A/N: I hope everyone enjoys this chappy! I apologize for the long wait!
Shyare walked into the pub that evening with a bright smile. Her cause was sitting on the other side of the room with a babe in his hands. She walked over to Lancelot who happened to be by himself for once.
"Did you name her?" Shyare asked while interrupting him as he cooed at the babe.
"Her name is Seofretta."
"No Sarmatian name?" she inquired curiously, "What's it mean?"
"Little Elf," he said softly while looking at the little girl, "Her mother was a Celt and had strong beliefs in magic and such."
"You know she looks like you."
Lancelot was startled and turned towards her. She simply laughed, "What? Did you think she'd be blonde with green eyes?"
He smirked, "She has my good looks."
"And I suppose that'll mean all the boys will be chasing her?"
Lancelot narrowed his eyes. No boy would take a step towards her. Not if he could help it. Shyare laughed and left him to his scowling. She was heading back to cleaning glasses when someone grabbed her waist. She smiled when she felt Tristan pull her into his lap.
"Where are the kids?" he asked gruffly.
"Oh…I don't know," she responded off-handedly, "Probably with Bors's bunch."
He looked at her for a moment, "I have a surprise for you."
"Really?"
He nodded, "But it must wait for tomorrow."
Shyare pouted, "Why?"
"Because it is dark out."
"We'll have to find someone to watch the kids."
"I've already taken care of it," he replied smugly.
"Do they know what my surprise is?"
"Do you think I'd actually tell them?" Tristan scoffed.
"Fine," she replied while flipping her dreadlocks, "I wait until tomorrow for my surprise."
He shook his head at her. Hopefully tomorrow would turn out well.
Shyare lay in her bed asleep. Her blankets were kicked to the ground and a pillow was clutched in her arms. Her night at the tavern had lasted into early morning. She didn't budge as the heavy door creaked. Tristan smirked at her. He quickly grabbed her arms before she could injure him, but forgot about her legs.
Shyare sat up bolt-right and looked to see Tristan rubbing his chin. She managed to knee him just beneath his jaw. Shyare placed a hand over her own mouth and scooted down on the floor.
"I am so sorry!" she yelped while helping to his feet, "I didn't realize it was you!"
"You never do," he mumbled.
"Well, now that you're in here…" she began, "What did you come for?"
"Your surprise," Tristan reminded her.
"Oh! I forgot!"
He shook his head, "Bring extra clothing, your sword and meet me in the stables."
"Where are we going?"
"I can't tell you."
She scowled. Tristan was not one to give information generously.
Fifteen minutes and Shyare was in the stables. A small leather bag was slung of her shoulder, and her sword at her waist. She smiled. Tristan was on his own stallion, holding the reigns to Alexander. Achilles whined behind her. She looked at the black wolf and patted his head.
"I'll see you soon," she whispered, he turned his head and trotted off with a head held high.
Shyare swung herself onto the stallion's back. She looked at Tristan curiously, "I suppose you're leading."
He nodded and bolted out the doors. Shyare rolled her eyes and dashed after him. They were away from the wall and into open plains. It was unusually hot out and she welcomed the wind that rushed past her. The sun shone onto her face. She smiled to it; her tan had been fading over the past few months. She opened her eyes just in time to see Tristan ducking between the trees.
Shyare followed Tristan for nearly two hours. He finally came to a halt. Shyare found herself in a large clearing. The sun rays beamed down at the area. She didn't notice at first, but grinned as she saw a small lake whose water sparkled. It was crystal clear. A good sized water fall poured into it from a cliff above. She hopped off Alexander in a daze. Tristan leant against a tree and watched her with a barely noticeable smile.
"You found this?" she asked him.
"This and more," he responded.
"More?" she repeated with an arched eyebrow.
Tristan nodded. He placed an arm around her waist and led her a little further down the lake. A small wood boat was on the shore, paddles inside. Shyare didn't bother to say anything; she pulled Tristan into a tight hug and kissed his cheek.
Shyare pulled away and began taking her boots off. She unbelted her sword and tugged off the heavy tunic, leaving herself in breeches and an undershirt. Tristan looked at her as if she were crazy.
"What are you doing?"
"What do you think?" she retorted, "I'm not passing up the good weather."
With that she began to go up the hidden path to the top of the cliff. In a few moments she was on the top.
"Come here!" she called down.
"Don't you dare jump!" he bellowed, "You'll kill yourself!"
"Come and stop me!" she teased.
Tristan crossed his arms. He was not going to chase her. There was no way in her right mind that Shyare would actually jump.
"Suit yourself!"
Shyare didn't jump, she dove head first off the cliff with her arms over head. Tristan's eyes widened. She disappeared into the roar of the water fall. Tristan wasn't worried at first, but after a few moments, he didn't see her surface. He began pacing. Just as he was about to go in after her, her head popped up, dreadlocks spread around her. He let out the breath that he had been holding.
"You could've died!"
"I love you too!" she responded with a smile.
Shyare smoothly swam towards Tristan. He sat cross legged on the shore. She pulled herself out of the water and laid next to him, letting the sun rays dry her. Tristan smiled at her when she closed her eyes. He began pulling his own weapons off, along with boots and shirt. Shyare didn't take notice at first, but cracked open an eye when she heard a splash.
She looked in the water to see Tristan's head pop up. She grinned and waded in after him. They swam about for the next hour or so. They went on the land again, Tristan pulling out some bread and an apple. They silently munched. Shyare was done and got up, heading towards the boat.
She now noticed that it wasn't just a row boat, but a sail boat. Shyare began hooking the sails to the mast. Tristan leaned back and observed. She looked so natural while working with the sea craft. The sails finally billowed to one side. She motioned for Tristan to join her, but he shook his head. Shyare shrugged and pushed the boat into the lake, hopping in at the last moment.
It was only a minute before it was off on a strong breeze. Shyare used the tiller to make it go around the lake once. She was in the center of the lake when she noticed Tristan had disappeared. She pulled in the sail so she could rest for a moment. In her short stop, the boat suddenly flipped to one side, capsized, now turtled actually. She went the other end and saw Tristan swimming away.
Shyare rolled her eyes. She grasped his arm and pulled him back. "You're obviously not much of a sailor."
She half crawled onto the haul of the little wooden boat and grabbed the rudder, ready to flip it right side up when it stuck. The mast was caught on something in the clear lake. She looked over to Tristan who still thought he sunk the boat. She motioned him over. He arrived swiftly.
"Pull on the rudder until the boat rights itself in about a minute," she explained quickly.
"What's a rudder?"
She looked at him like he was mad, "The wooden piece sticking out from the haul," he still looked at her questioningly, "Don't let that fall through the boat," she said in exasperation while putting his hands on it, "I'll be back in a moment."
Without any hesitation, Shyare took one breath and dove beneath the surface. Tristan could see her clearly, her dreadlocks flowing behind her. She looked like one of the mermaids the sailors at port had spoken of when he first arrived in Britain. Suddenly Tristan was broken out of his trance as the boat moved upward; he began pulling on the piece of wood that Shyare had called the 'rudder.' The boat turned towards him, it was now on its side in the water. He thought it was going to fall back again when he felt another force besides his own. Shyare was beside him. The craft suddenly pulled free from the water and was right side up. She grinned at him, and then pulled herself on board like a natural. He struggled on after her.
She lay across the vessel, leaving herself prey to the sun. Her eyes were closed and dreadlocks spread behind her. Tristan simply sat and watched. He had never seen her so relaxed. This is where Shyare belonged, not in a fort fighting off Romans and Woads. She was exotic, perfect and meant for the sea. Tristan found it hard to believe she was from Sarmatia; she looked to be from a place of tropics, where war did not exist.
"You're beautiful," he said softly, not even realizing he had said it out loud.
"Am I?" she inquired, wary of his words.
"Yes," he confirmed, "You should never be taken from water."
"If only life could be so simple," she whispered, forcing herself to close her eyes.
Shyare could almost taste the salt in the air. If she only reached a little further, she might even touch the boiling sea heated by the sun. What she would do to have a moment on her ship again! A sudden breeze came across to chill her, shaking her from the past and memories. With a sigh she sat up and looked at Tristan. His hair was still wet, his braids fallen out.
Without a word, she nimbly tied braids into his hair. He didn't protest, but leant back on the boat and enjoyed it. She smiled down on him. She rubbed a thumb across his tattoos. Tristan's eyes snapped open, he grabbed her hand.
"That tickles," he growled.
Shyare laughed at him. He suddenly stared at her intently. The studied each other for what seemed like an eternity. She blushed and looked away.
"Where are your markings?" he asked curiously.
"Our clan doesn't have any," she responded with a shrug.
"Would you give yourself any for marriage?" he inquired cautiously.
"Are you trying to ask me something?"
"Yes," he said with a nod, looking her straight in the eye, "Will you marry me?"
A/N: I'm leaving it here! You have to wait for her reply! Sorry for the cliffy! Please review, no flames!