Misunderstandings

Ardeth awoke to a warm, plush body cozied up next to his; voluptuous breasts pressed against the side of his chest; a small, feminine hand lay over his heart, a thigh across his waist. They had left the tavern early for Lorelei's abode and spent a rather active night in one another's arms, which was why Ardeth was waking up in her modest dwelling. Lorelei was a laundress and occasional seamstress; a genuinely nice woman who loved to laugh, and generous in bed. Ardeth was careful not to disturb her as he got out of bed. He felt the loss of her body heat as he pulled away. The floor was cold and he searched for his socks which weren't anywhere near each other.

A giggle halted his search. He turned to a now awake Lorelei who was holding the rogue sock in her hand. He smirked and took it from her, then went about dressing himself, well aware that she was watching without shame.

"Are you sure you do not want to stay?" she asked. Her hair was mussed and she was wrapped in the rumpled sheets like a treat not fully unwrapped.

Ardeth tucked her soft hair behind her hear. "I can't. I'm helping my mother with birdhouses today." To his surprise, she didn't laugh, but only smiled as if such an activity sounded pleasant. "You're not going to tease me?" he put his tunic on, then scanned the room for his jerkin.

"No," she said. "I think it is lovely that you spend time with your mother." There was a note of wistfulness in her voice.

He belted his jerkin and slipped his boots on. "Where is your mother?"

"She died three years ago."

A genuine express of sympathy crossed his face. "That's awful." He couldn't imagine losing his mother or father.

Lorelei shrugged. "She had a hard life, and is at peace now." Ardeth squeezed her hand and her heart thudded.

By now, the other occupants of the fortress were up and out, beginning their days, the sounds of wakefulness reaching through the thin walls of her quarters.

"I better not keep my mother waiting," he said.

Lorelei nodded, taken aback, but very pleased when he gave her a kiss goodbye.

Ardeth left feeling well. The bright sun hit his face, and he had to adjust his eyes after being accustomed to the dimness of Lorelei's room. He nodded good mornings to familiar faces as he passed. His father was just descending the stairs inside of the keep as Ardeth entered the building. Tristan smirked at his son knowingly.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

Ardeth smiled. "You could say that."

"Hmm." At least his son was choosing wenches a bit more carefully now. Over the years there had been plentiful accusations of paternity on Ardeth from money-grubbing chits or women desperate for marriage to a strapping man of noble blood.

"Is Walida awake?"

"She was just stirring when I left."

"I'm helping her with birdhouses today."

Tristan nodded. "She is looking forward to it."

"Indeed, I am!" Raja's voice was like a fresh spring morning as she walked gracefully down the hallway. She wore an outfit of blues that complemented her raven hair and silver eyes that were sparkling this morning from a night of good rest. Her tunic was a lighter blue than her hose, jerkin, and boots. Her eyes noticed the bruise on her son's neck. "Oh, love-" But her words of concern were truncated when she realized what the "bruise" was. "Mmm-hmm," she hummed with a mother's intuition.

Ardeth flushed and fidgeted with the collar of his jerkin to hide the love-bite she had already seen. Luckily, his father saved him from further inquiry. Raja was just about to fuss with Ardeth's rumpled hair when Tristan pulled her to him by the waist to shuffle her away. Raja pursed her lips together indignantly but let it slide. She gave Ardeth a kiss on the cheek and told him to eat a good breakfast.

Ardeth hurried up to his room for a quick wash and change of clothes.

"Hello, Ezra!" he greeted upon seeing Ezra the Mouse on his made bed. He picked up the small creature and gave him a petting on the head with the pad of his forefinger. Ezra twitched his whiskers in response. It didn't take long for him to get ready, and soon he was heading towards the tavern, Ezra in tow who rode on his shoulder. The tavern wasn't too crowded, most of the morning rush already waning. He spotted Lucan and took a seat across from him, immediately taken notice of his friend's wan features and bloodshot eyes. Lucan gave Ardeth a half-hearted smile in greeting. Ardeth didn't question him, he knew Lucan would get to it in his own time.

He ordered and they ate in silence until it was disturbed by Ardeth's cousin, Samara, plopping down next to him with her usually exuberance.

"What is so exciting at this hour?" Ardeth asked.

He was close to both of his twin cousins, the other being Miribelle, or Miri, for short.

"Boys, of course," Miribelle interjected dryly, taking a seat next to Lucan.

Samara stuck her tongue out at her, who rolled her eyes. They were essentially identical, but their personalities differed like night and day. Samara loved jewelry, makeup, and clothes. She flirted shamelessly with the men, much to her parents' chagrin. Mara always took great care with her appearance, hair in place, clothes tailored, fabric bright. She disliked dirt and work, and never took to archery or swordplay. She loved horses but did not like cleaning up after them. But Lancelot told her if she was going to have a horse of her own then it was her responsibility to care for it.

Miribelle took to all the things her sister had not. Swordplay, archery, dagger throwing, real horse-back riding as she liked to call it. She wore her clothes simple. Hose, tunic, jerkin, a dagger strapped to her belt. She wore no makeup or baubles, and her dark curly hair was always plaited and fell mid-back. And to her father's relief, she wasn't yet into courting.

"Ardeth," Mara began, and her cousin knew that she was about to ask for a favor.

"She wants you to be her chaperon in the tavern tonight," Miribelle finished.

It was a constant quarrel between Mara and her parents about the refusal to let her socialize in the tavern at night. The men were too old for her, and when they were in their cups, it was no place for a young girl to be. But when she had turned sixteen, they reluctantly consented that she could patronize the tavern, but only with a trusted chaperon – Ardeth. But he was also protective of his cousins, more like a brother to them really. Ardeth was wary of any man ogling either of the girls, and he worried that Samara would get herself into trouble without a watchful eye.

"Please?" Mara entreated in her sweetest voice.

He gave her a droll stare, and Ezra took that lull in conversation to peek out of Ardeth's jerkin, causing Samara to squeal and shuffle down the bench. Miribelle laughed.

"Ezra," Miri said, gently taking the mouse from her cousin's shoulder.

Ardeth noticed that Lucan was not sharing their revelry. His blue eyes kept darting to the door and back to his plate.

"Not tonight," Ardeth answered. "My mother and I have a chess game in progress." Had he named anyone else, Mara would have whined and tried to cajole him into changing his mind.

Instead, she sighed, but said, "Tomorrow?"

"Fine," he conceded, wincing at the high pitched exclamation of excitement. Samara thanked him profusely, before bouncing off, presumably to tell her parents and brag to her friends. Miribelle followed her, Ezra with her, saying to Ardeth that she would take good care of him.

With his cousins gone, Ardeth turned his attention to Lucan. "Bad night?" he ventured easily.

Bad night, Lucan thought caustically. He had a bit of a headache from the one-too-many servings of ale he'd consumed after Ardeth had left with his lady friend. After Rhiannon had entered the tavern to observe Ardeth. His spirits low, along with his sense, he had followed the woman who'd been flirting with him all night to her quarters. He vaguely remembered drunken fumbling and the woman atop him before all his clothes were off. He was disgusted with himself, for he never did such things. And to his shame, he couldn't recall her name. And worse, he had left her room while she had still been asleep, sneaking away like a thief in the night.

A loud laugh bounded through the building from the throat of a woman entered the tavern. Ardeth looked to see who it was, recognizing the woman's face, but unknowing of her name. But next to her was Rhiannon, Cassandra's closest friend. Ardeth wondered if Cassandra had told Rhia about her attempt to seduce him in the woods. Probably so, he figured, he didn't think Cassandra would be able to keep something like that to herself. But something else chased those thoughts from his mind, the expression on Lucan's face, the tender want in his blue eyes directed at Rhiannon. Things began to connect in Ardeth's mind. He had seen Rhia come into the tavern last night; saw her look at him and then Lucan, her eyes echoing the very same silent yearning that was now in Lucan's.

"You should talk to her," Ardeth said.

Lucan blinked. "What?"

"You should talk to her," Ardeth repeated, this time with a smirk that said Lucan's laconic attitude wasn't fooling him.

"Who?" Lucan asked, still trying to remain indifferent.

"Don't pretend you do not know who I'm talking about."

Lucan still remained quiet; he didn't want to admit to himself that he was irrationally angry with Ardeth for garnering Rhiannon's attention. "Why would she welcome conversation with me?" he blurted acidly.

Ardeth was a little stung from his friend's tone, but tried not to take it personally. "I think she would. She came in here last night."

"I know."

"Then you saw her look at you." Ardeth thought his words would bring, at the lease, surprised pleasure but Lucan's pupils contracted and his lips curled with scornful dubiety.

"Don't patronize me, Ardeth," he said.

"You think I would make this up?"

"I saw her. I saw her look at you."

It hit Ardeth like a blow to the gut. Gods, Lucan was angry with him because he thought Rhiannon fancied him, though Ardeth suspected the girl had only come into the tavern at Cassandra's behest. It bothered him greatly that a woman was the cause of friction between him and Lucan. They had never competed for a woman; if one knew the other was interested in a certain woman, then she was off limits. Well, Ardeth damned well wasn't going to let this misunderstanding pit them against each other.

"You're right," Ardeth conceded. "She did look at me, but then I clearly saw her gaze at you." Before Lucan could speak, he said, "And I'm fairly certain Rhia only wanted to spot me because she was asked to."

That made the ire fade from Lucan's eyes, only for confusion to replace it. "By who?"

"I'll explain later, but listen, I saw Rhia look at you, very much like you were looking at her a few minutes ago. And I wouldn't be telling you this unless I was sure."

He didn't want to believe him, but he knew his friend wouldn't buoy him with false hopes. So, if Rhiannon had looked at Lucan, it must have been after he had looked away. Damn. Damn! And now he felt terrible for taking his misery out on Ardeth. He groaned low, rubbing his temples to ease the pounding in his head.

"You bedded that woman, didn't you?" Ardeth mused, amused and sympathetic.

"Gods, Ardeth, I don't even remember her name!" His forehead fell into his hands. "I left before the sun came up."

Ardeth chuckled. "Well, I can't help you with that, but her name is Moira if that makes you feel any better."

"A little." Lucan sighed. "I'm sorry for being ill-tempered."

He shrugged. "I understand."

Lucan discreetly scanned the room for Rhiannon, but she had gone in the back of the tavern with her lady companion. He hoped she wasn't looking for work in here; he didn't like the idea of Rhia being harassed by patrons. "So, who asked her to go to the tavern?"

Ardeth winced. "Come on, I'll explain on the way to the stables." He put some coin on the table and then he told Lucan about Cassandra, his blue eyes widening as Ardeth went on.

"Do your parents know?" he asked.

Ardeth nodded. "They both understood."

Lucan wouldn't have expected anything less from Tristan and Raja. But he was shocked by Ardeth's tale. He didn't know Cassandra that well, and didn't like judging someone before getting to know them, but her actions were not gaining a very favorable opinion. Then it occurred to him. "And she's dragging Rhiannon into this! Doesn't Cassandra know that it is dangerous for a woman to walk alone at night around the area of the tavern? Yet, she sends Rhia there!"

It was always something to witness Lucan get worked up because he was normally so even-tempered. His lips were pursed tightly and he was shaking his head as he thought about how wrong the situation was. Before they could speak more, they'd reached the stables where it wasn't the best thing to discuss personal matters.

Raja was already here, saddling Odin the Second. Horus the Second was perched nearby. She paused to greet them. Ardeth's horse, Lord Ra, snorted and immediately went for his rider's head when he was within range. Thor, Lucan's mount, was equally pleased to see his human. Ardeth prepared Lord Ra for his outing.

"Oh, Lucan are you ill?" Raja worried, observing his bloodshot eyes and wan pallor.

Lucan grinned sheepishly when Raja inspected his face and checked for fever.

"Ah," she said with knowing sympathy. It wasn't like Lucan to get deep into his cups. "Your father is in the healing room, I'm sure he has something for your ailment."

Lucan nodded. He certainly needed to do that before his own mother saw him. Dagonet's wife, Anna, had accepted him into her arms and treated him as if she had borne him herself. The first time he'd been aching from a drunken binge she had tsk-tsked from one end of Britain to another and had not stopped fussing over him until his headache was gone. Then she would go on about her father who had ailed from drinking too much and his father before that.

Not too long later, Raja and Ardeth were on their way as Lucan went to see his father.

TBC....