Disclaimer: I don't own anything, unfortunately.
SEAThey had to travel by sea to reach the mainland of Europe and the knights were dreading it. The one time they had travelled across the water was when they first arrived at Britain. They were young, untried and untrained. A sword was given to them and they were expected to do the best with it that they could.
They had picked up things, learned from older knights and let an instinct for survival guide them. They had done this until they were generally considered the best warriors in the land and they had been given to Arthur's leadership.
That one sea trip carried so many emotions that had unconsciously burned their way onto the knight's mind. Perhaps it was not the journey itself that had made them hate their brief time on the tossing turning ocean but a feeling. The feeling that they were surrendering their freedom for the next fifteen years in servitude to a cause they hadn't believed in.
"It looks wet." Gawain commented.
"It is the ocean," Lancelot observed, drly.
"I know that," Gawain replied flustered. "It's just that we thought we were leaving this forsaken island and it's rain behind. And now more water stretched out for miles before us."
"Forsaken?" Ardiath questioned. It was a soft question without emotion.
Gawain stared for a second wondering how to answer that. He didn't want to offend her or ostracise her in any way. Ardiath and the knights had only recently relaxed into each other's company. Joachim's memory was a painful rift between them.
It was delicate as the knights did not want to upset her with a careless remark and Ardiath had often slipped into states of complete distraction whilst her mind wandered far from the present.
That was why Gawain paused before talking. This was Ardiath's home and, while she had never been a rebel in the forest, she was most likely not going to well receive slander against her nation.
Gawain shouldn't have bothered over analysing his answer. Ardiath wasn't paying him any attention. Her breath was hitching in her throat as she saw her beautiful ocean. Seas were rough today and it raged furiously. Untamed and unstoppable. She had to force herself to remain beside the knights on her horse and not take off at a canter.
Her home had been only a few miles away. She could have ridden to see it but she didn't want to. She knew what would await her. Charcoaled ruins and rotting bodies of friends and her father.
"We camp here tonight and ship out tomorrow." Tristan spoke quietly for the first time. He had his careful eyes on the ocean also but he did not share the adoration Ardiath felt for what, to her, represented freedom. He saw it as a means home but it wouldn't be until he felt Sarmatian grass under his feet that he would truly feel the extent of his liberation and his damnation.
He had sworn to protect his brother before he left and what had happened. All he brought back was bad tidings and the widow of his brother. He had gone out of his way to ensure that she was not harmed on this journey, emotionally or physically. It was out of character for Tristan to care for a woman this way but these were no ordinary circumstances.
Honestly he did not feel anything much toward Ardiath. It was guilt that motivated him. Guilt at the death he had caused. Just as she claimed this trip to Sarmatia would heal her, he hoped assisting her would free his consciousness.
When he had made this silent bargain with himself to watch over her he had worried because what if she wanted to talk. Tristan was hopeless at talking. He was bad with people who were not his fellow knights. He didn't have to worry, she mostly kept to herself.
Finally the knights kicked their horses into action and Ardiath trailed behind them. They set up the tents and then busied themselves with the chores. Firewood was gathered and Galahad was delegated the duty of cooking.
"My poor stomach," Ardiath stated quietly when she saw Galahad bent by the fire. He gave her a small smile, relieved to see her making a joke.
"Don't worry, I'll try and make it edible," Galahad offered.
"You had better. You will ruin my reunion with the sea if I have a poor belly tomorrow."
"My reunion is already unsteady," Galahad confessed. "I just hope the lady ocean is of a fair temper when we sail."
"I'm sure if I ask her nicely she will comply." Ardiath stood and headed toward the ocean.
"Where are you going?" Galahad asked bemused.
"To beg her grace on your behalf!"
Galahad thought she was jesting but she continued walking. He shrugged. Ardiath always walked off. At first it had worried them with bandits and woads that resisted unification under Arthur but eventually they accepted it. They could only do their best to protect her and only if she allowed it.
Ardiath had wanted to go to the water as soon as it had arisen in her eyesight but she waited. She didn't quite understand what held her still when everything she had craved for was right there before her.
She slipped off her shoes when she reached the sand. She savoured the texture against her feet. The sand was cold to her feet; the sun had been hiding so there had been nothing to warm it.
It was grey with shells and seaweed, not the most beautiful beach she had ever laid eyes on but to her, in this moment, it was lovely. The water roared and crashed in huge waves. It was pounding the shore and each thundering sound sent a thrill up her body.
It was like a furious lover, welcoming her home violently, passionately. But still she approached slowly. Would the water remember her? Would its cool, living embrace still hold magic or had a Saxon touch perverted everything?
The first bit of water danced around her toes. The sea was no longer angry but playful. Calling her back, daring her in. Ardiath smiled. It still felt rare on her face, as if the muscles did not recognise the expression. Her eyes were not icy but soft.
She walked deeper and deeper in. The waves crashed at her and she had to fight her way. Each step was hard and it wasn't long before she was soaking and freezing. She laughed as a waved pushed her under. People unaccustomed to the water might call these conditions dangerous but she knew better. It was challenging certainly but not dangerous. There was not even an undercurrent pulling out to sea.
She played with the waves, weaving in and out dodging the most powerful crashes. It was a game she hadn't played for years. A thing she had taken for granted but no longer. Impulsively she began talking as if there was really a motherly essence that could listen.
She spoke of many things that made no sense. She asked for a smooth journey for Galahad. She showed the ocean her arm and it kissed the scars. The ocean forgave her. She just needed to forgive herself. It would take a while but she knew she must. As if sensing her revelation the ocean deposited her on the beach with a surging rush of water.
Ardiath lay on the beech and watched the sky. The sun was setting behind the cloud cover. Despite the overcast day she could tell when the sun was there and when it wasn't. It was getting colder and the wash of colours on the far horizon indicated so.
A face appeared above hers. It was Tristan. Ardiath didn't meet his eyes, instead looking at his feet. His father has said that one could tell a lot about a person by whether they removed their shoes or not when they were on the beach. Tristan hadn't taken his off.
Ardiath sighed. "You should walk barefoot on the sand. It's good!"
"You're soaking," Tristan stated. He immediately felt stupid. Of course she already knew she was wet. His power of observation must have been impressive. His internal berating did not show on his face, which he kept neutral.
"I was swimming. I missed the ocean," Ardiath explained as she stood. She automatically checked that her arm was covered. Satisfied that it was, she went in search of her shoes. Tristan trailed after her silently.
Back at the camp the other three knights stared at her. Dinner was ready and that was why Tristan had been sent to fetch her.
"If I had known that you would get this wet asking for a safe journey I would have stopped you," Galahad quipped.
There was a new light in her eyes that made her face seem warmer, more open. She nodded happily at Galahad. "I decided to swim."
"We can all see that," Lancelot said. She looked a bit like a puppy who had just stumbled into a pond and was delighted by the discovery. Now she was dragging her wet self home for inspection by the owner.
Ardiath went to her tent to change so she did not catch a chill in the night air. The men looked at each other around the fire.
"She seems better," Lancelot finally noted.
"I, for one, am glad," Gawain decreed with a mouthful of food. "All that tip toeing round made me edgy."
"You aren't a subtle one," Galahad said with a grimace as he caught sight of the food rolling around in Gawains mouth.
"But I am pretty!" Gawain said and swallowed the mouthful.
Lancelot shook his head. "I hate to say but I agree with Gawain. Grief is an ugly emotion for everyone, not just for the one who is the source."
It was if his words trigged the memory that Tristan was Joachim's brother and perhaps he may feel slighted by their casual addressing of grief but they could not see any change of emotion on the scouts face as he fished around in his bag and produced an apple. None of the knights knew that he had killed Joachim.
Ardiath re-emerged, not quite as exuberant as before but it was one of her better nights. Lancelot, Gawain and Galahad conversed about past conquests with Tristan injecting a word of two, to deflate an ego or to reassure that he wasn't a eunuch. Ardiath listened contentedly till she felt too tired to remain.
In the morning the sun was bright and the sea was still. The wind whispered softly as the knights approached the boat. Arthur had sent word, and coin, ahead of the knights so that the captain was ready when they arrived.
He welcomed them warmly, a native Britain from a village farther up from Ardiath's. His town had not endured the Saxon invasion and was lucky to survive.
"Clear skies and smooth seas," He grinned widely, "A blessing to be sure after yesterdays weather."
Galahad glanced at Ardiath significantly.
"I said I would ask," She said in answer to his look. He smiled but it was weak. He tried to decide if it was coincidence or if she was some water shaman. It was of course just good luck and his expression amused Ardiath.
The pitching of the boats unhinged the knights but it was a comforting rocking to Ardiath, much more welcome then the lurch of a horse. As the land got smaller and smaller Ardiath closed her eyes and breathed deeply. This was her chance for salvation and she was going to embrace it because if she didn't she was going to fade away.
AN: I wanted someone to update their story, which I loved and then they said they wanted me to update traitor so I thought, "hmm that's fair." So here it is. Review and be gentle I may be out of touch.
MD666