Disclaimer: nope nothing nada! I mean I wish but I don't!
COMPANION
The knights mused that Ardiath may possibly be quieter then Tristan on their journey towards Sarmatia. But unlike Tristan they found she impressed her mood on them. Around her they were solemn and reserved, afraid that if they joked she would have an extreme negative reaction. This was taking its toll on them. Gawain and Galahad found their minds full of witty things to say and they bit them back. Lancelot shot her resentful looks.
Tristan stared down and glares on her behalf as she seemed utterly unaware of what was going on around her and transfixed with the perpetual grey clouds and setting.
She wasn't useless though. She fetched fire wood and helped cooked. She rode her horse near the back so it wasn't as if she was intentionally intruding on their merriment.
Ardiath knew that she was putting the knights on edge. They may have thought she didn't and she did not want to place Tristan, who had taken on a protective role, in the compromising position of choosing between his friends and his sister in law.
They had stopped for the knight and after setting up their new tents, it looked like rain after all, she disappeared for about half an hour to collect firewood. She came back holding a measly armful and the knights assumed there was not much firewood in the area. There was actually plenty but Ardiath had gotten preoccupied, which happened less and less frequently.
But the ground had been very muddy and her booted feet sunk deep into the ground leaving tracks. There were other tracks around the mud. Some people, probably locals, and some animal and it made Ardiath wonder. Her husband had tracked people with their footsteps but what had that meant. A footstep was not a person, it was progression. Showing movement. You could not determine bad or good from footsteps.
She looked at hers with growing interest. What did hers tell her? Not much. They did not tell her that she had black hair and icy eyes. They did not say whether she cut herself or not. There were clumps of grass in the mud, trodden down and destroyed. Ardiath felt a detached moment of sadness before turning back to the task at hand.
They had lit the fire and cooked some meat, sitting around the campfire in silence when it had started to rain. The knights bolted for their tents. They despised the rain. It made them think fondly of Bors who hadn't come with them. Preferring to stay with his children. He had promised to wait till the knights were back to marry Vanora. Vanora had tapped her foot impatiently and shifted her baby to the other hip when she heard that.
They heard a laugh outside and drew back their tent flaps to see if it was raiders. Their eyes widened when they caught sight of Ardiath. Head flung back and arms outstretched looking the happiest they had ever seen her.
She was dancing in circles swaying in time to the wind.
"Gods, she must be freezing," Gawain muttered to Galahad who was sharing his tent.
Tristan and Lancelot exchanged looks from their tent a little to the left. The rain was not gently oozing from the sky but pelting down harshly against her skin.
Ardiath was cold and the rain was stinging a little but it was rain. The first rain since Joachim died and she was letting it wash her clean. It couldn't reach her broken heart but it took away the horrible aches in her body. The feeling that she was dirty and cramped, which she found impossible to rid herself of before now came gushing away in the new cold.
And she had laughed. It had gurgled up and slipped out before she could think or repress it. It felt incredibly good to express herself. It was something genuine that wasn't sadness.
She knew the knights were watching her. She didn't move for them or try to block out their watchful gaze. She danced and danced until she was so tired she couldn't move and then she stopped and stood in the rain. Her hair was plastered flat to her head and dress clinging to her body. The rain slid over her face, down her nose, over her cheekbones and clung to her eyelashes. She ran her hands over her face, pushing her hair back and closed her eyes.
When she opened them again she locked stares with Tristan. Meeting his brown eyes, which were, in some ways, as cold as hers. Tristan saw how calm she looked but for the first time fully aware. She was completely inside her mind and in the moment, which hadn't happened since the Saxon invasion.
Tristan pulled himself out of the tent to stand just outside in the rain too. As it washed away the top level of her sadness it took the edge of his guilt. He could think of his little brother without shooting pains in his heart that made it hard to breath or think.
"What are you doing Tristan?" Lancelot demanded. Tristan shrugged. He had no idea. He only knew it felt better out there in the cold and the wet for some reason.
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Ardiath found herself alone in a campsite with Galahad a week later.
He looked like he wanted to break the silence but just couldn't bring himself to do it. He would open his mouth and then shut it. Then he would open it again and struggle to find words but he never managed them. He turned his eyes downcast and continued cleaning his sword feeling embarrassed.
"What?"
Galahad brought his head up quickly and found Ardiath staring at him quizzically. Her face was soft and there was a tiny upturn of her lips.
"I wanted to talk," Galahad stuttered.
"About?" Ardiath asked warily. She did not want to talk about their original fight or Joachim.
"About anything!" Galahad said, "This quiet is not good for people. Makes us forget we exist with others."
"Alright. Speak then!"
Galahad repeated the same opening and closing of the mouth that he had done previously. Now he had been put on the spot to come up with a conversation he couldn't for the life of him think one up!
"Weapons!" He blurted out and immediately regretted it. Maybe that would bring up painful memories about her husbands demise.
Ardiath's face didn't change, "What about them?"
"Do you have one?" Galahad asked.
"Yes."
This startled Galahad. "Really? What kind?"
"Just a Saxon dagger that I stole. I don't think it is very good," Ardiath said.
"Can I see?"
Ardiath worked the blade out of its hiding spot and handed it to him. He turned it over slowly and nodded.
"It's crude but that's to be expected from the Saxons. It's strong though and will drive true," Galahad said.
"I am not sure how to use it properly," Ardiath confessed.
"You should ask Gawain or Tristan to help. They are the best of us," Galahad said.
"What am I the best of?" Gawain's voice travelled through the air, "I know I am the best looking but…" He trailed off when saw Ardiath and felt immediately bad for joking.
"I was telling her that you are the best knife fighter and that you might teacher her," Galahad said.
"You were having a conversation?" Gawain blurted out before he could stop himself.
Ardiath narrowed her eyes. "Thank you."
Gawain grinned apologetically and lowered himself onto a log near the pair. "You are just very quiet."
"Men. They say they want a silent woman and then when they have one they complain."
It took them a moment to realise she was not serious. They smiled relieved.
"So you would like to learn how to use a dagger then?" Gawain moved the conversation along.
Ardiath nodded and pointed at the dagger Galahad was holding. "That's mine."
"Where did you get a blade?" Gawain was clearly confused. What little he knew about Ardiath led him to believe he had been a simple village woman living on the coast.
"I stole it." Her blue eyes glittered.
The men laughed, tickled by the thought of a woman stealing from the Saxons. Ardiath felt a smile taking place on her face and couldn't stop it. Their laugh was infectious and put her in a better mood.
"Do we have to lock up our weapons?" Galahad asked.
"Well if I have to stomach one more night of your cooking I may use your own weapon against you." Ardiath tried to keep her face straight but failed.
Gawain snorted and sniggered in Galahads face, who looked very offended.
"Well I don't have to worry. You can't use the weapon well." Galahad tried to sound brave and haughty.
"For that cause alone I would teach her," Gawain promised laughing harder.
That evening Galahad did not cook but Lancelot who had returned with Tristan carrying a wild animal they had hunted. They noticed the change of mood but said nothing. Ardiath did not always join in on their jokes or laugh all the times but the atmosphere was better and not so pressured. They no longer resented Ardiath's presence.
AN: I think I like shorter chapters for Traitor. Yeah I have really nothing to say except I was trying to show the progression of Ardiath's character and the healing process she is undertaking.
MD666