Chapter Nine

The days passed as swiftly as a snail crawls along the ground. The air was damp and humid with the threat of rain. The sky was darkening daily and the clouds hung heavily on the horizon. But still the rain did not come. Camelot's citizens were on edge as they awaited the deluge. Many believed that this was the gods' ways of showing Arthur their displeasure in him allowing Roman footsteps to soil Britain's pure earth. Such whisperings soon reached the ears of Arthur and his men. The king denied such claims, stating, instead, that the weather was simply off. But still the people were tense, awaiting some form of action that would speak true the events that were happening.

Juliana sat in her room, staring out the window at the dark land. It was midday and still the sun had yet to show its face. She was growing restless. Mother Superior would not allow her to roam, nor to continue her painting beside the stream. Cabin fever was setting in and Juliana wished for nothing more than to escape the drab stone walls that kept her locked inside. With the days as dark as they were, it was difficult for Juliana to know just how long she'd been stuck inside. Her guess: nearly a week.

The threat of rain was getting to everyone. Even the most jovial of nuns were beginning to become testy and irritable. Within the church's walls, many spoke of God's revenge upon Arthur for allowing Camelot's people to worship false gods for so long. But no matter who plotted revenge against who, the situation remained the same.

Sighing, Juliana turned away from her window. The sight was beginning to make her depressed. She needed sunshine. She craved it as a starving man craves food. The sun and its warmth were one of the few things that kept her from going stark-raving mad every day that she lived inside the church. The days of continual darkness were taking their toll upon her. Juliana felt herself growing languid and unmotivated to do anything. She was tempted to lay in her bed, covers pulled over her head, until the sun returned. But she could not do that.

Her cloak lay on the edge of her bed. The piece of drag fabric called to her, imploring her to throw it on and allow it the independence for which it was formed. The call was strong. Juliana resisted at first, but she put up a weak fight and soon relented to the cloak and the freedom which it promised. She threw the cloak on over her shoulders, pulling the hood on over her headdress and tying the strings beneath her chin. With one last glance at her darkened room, Juliana closed the door behind her and sought out the wide open plains of Camelot.

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Galahad tried to rid himself of Zephaniah throughout the week, but her presence was like a splinter beneath the skin: constant and irritating. He felt horrid for leading her on as he had done, but not horrid enough that he would continue to see her despite the fact that he cared nothing for her.

Zephaniah was there when he went to bed at night and when he woke in the morning. She cheered for him while he was in the practice fields, and watched his every movement with adoring eyes. At the tavern she sat beside him, claiming Galahad as hers and warding off the few brazen women who dared to try and take him from her. The only time that she was not with him was when Arthur called a meeting of the knights or sent Galahad on a special errand. The young knight learned to how to love those trivial meetings and those miniscule tasks which Arthur set him to. They offered him a brief reprieve from Zephaniah's presence, a reprieve which he quickly longed for when his tasks were finished.

He stood in the stable, gently brushing down his mare after his midmorning ride. Zephaniah had not seen him return, thankfully, and Galahad wanted to make the most of the few moments that he had to himself. So he brushed his horse slowly, wanting to take all the time he could.

Outside the air was heavy, burdening upon the lungs of any who dared to venture from their walls. A mist hung in the air, making everything damp and unbearable. Galahad's own clothing was wet and clung to his body most unpleasantly. Camelot was devoid of activity. The villagers choosing to remain indoors and escape the horrible weather. An unusual silence hung over the small kingdom, and Galahad felt both unnerved and at ease with the silence.

A rustling by the stable door stilled his hand. His eyes moved to the open door just as a cloaked figure hurried past. Curious, Galahad left his horse in her stall and followed the figure.

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The open space of the hilly plains did nothing to stifle Juliana's restlessness. If anything, it only intensified the feeling. She stood out in the open, head tilted back to gaze up at the heavens, her headdress lying abandoned on the earth at her feet. Her hair hung limp around her face, the dampness of the air settling easily within the long locks, forming tiny droplets which stood out like diamonds upon the fiery hair.

Through her restlessness, a feeling of peace slowly settled upon Juliana. Nothing could do more for her spirit than being outside, alone with God's creation. She breathed in deeply, letting the heavy, rain filled air, weigh down on her lungs. Even with the threat of a storm, Juliana couldn't deny the beauty of the land that surrounded her. If only she had thought to bring her paints with her, she could have captured the fierce beauty of oncoming storm. But she had not brought them with her, and so she was left with nothing more than her mind's eye to help her remember the world at that moment.

"What is a nun doing out of the church all by herself?" The familiar voice sent unwanted tremors down her spine. Juliana need not look to see who stood behind her. She could almost picture his teasing smirk, the slant of his eyes as they laughed at her. It shouldn't have been, but the picture was pleasing to her.

"I am enjoying the small amount of freedom that I can steal." She replied softly, remaining still. If he wished to see her face let him be the one to move for Juliana had no desire to.

"If you must steal your freedom, then why do you continue in the life that you lead?" His words brushed against her ear, startling her. He was so near that she could practically feel his body pressing against hers.

Juliana's senses were running wild. Her heart beat rapidly inside her chest and she was certain that he could hear the rapid beating.

A weight settled on her shoulder. Ever so slightly she turned her head to see his hand lying there. That strong, muscled, calloused, hardworking hand which had fought for the freedom that the people of Camelot now enjoyed. Juliana shook herself from her thoughts. No, she could not be drawn in by him. She would not allow herself to become weak to his tempting.

He moved so that he was beside her. She could feel his gaze on her, his eyes boring into her profile. But she would not look at him. She would not give him that satisfaction. Jaw set, she willed her eyes to remain on the plains ahead of her. But his presence would not be so easily ignored.

"Juliana." Her name whispered from his lips was like releasing the plug in a barrel of wine. Her emotions flooded her. Feelings, foreign to her body, welled in the pit of her stomach. A desire unlike anything she'd ever felt before engulfed her with the ferocity of an ocean gale.

He hooked a finger beneath her chin and forced her to look at him. Juliana tried to resist, but her resolve was gone. The very stubbornness that had ruled her for so many years gave way to his touch like the sand gives way to the sea's tide. She felt herself trembling at his touch and she hated herself for being so weak, so womanly.

Galahad's eyes stared into hers, as if he could read her thoughts and emotions if he just looked long enough. His thumb caressed her bottom lip and Juliana had to close her eyes to the overwhelming flood of emotions that coursed through her veins. He did things to her, things that Juliana wished she could ignore. But to do so would be futile. How could you ignore something so powerful? Especially when you wanted it so badly.

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Galahad could see the desire in her eyes, the want that he was so sure reflected in his own eyes. He hadn't meant for such an encounter to occur when he'd first followed Juliana. But the moment that he saw her, hair loose around her shoulders, he'd lost all reason.

The second his skin connected with hers a shock went through his system. It was as if he finally understood what it was like to fully love a woman. Yes, love. For surely that was what he felt for Juliana. Love in all its unadulterated glory; pure and whole and powerful enough to drive even the strongest man to his knees.

He wanted to kiss her. But something held him back. The fear that settled in her eyes, hidden by the desire and passion that burned there, caused him to still. How could he kiss her, tell her just how deeply he felt for her, when she was like a frightened infant? One small move and she could flee, like the doe when something startles her.

Running a hand through her hair- as he had so longed to do, Galahad tried to calm his beating heart. How could a woman such as she stir such emotion within a knight hardened by years of battle? Her hair was soft against his fingers, silky and smooth. Galahad fought his instinct to crush her against him and struggled to take a slower approach. Juliana would need that. She would not like it if he simply took what he longed for. Of that he was certain.

"What are you doing to me?" He asked softly.

"I could ask the same of you." Her reply was quiet, and Galahad had to strain to hear her.

Her words tugged at him, making his desire for her only burn hotter.

Thunder cracked in the distance and the hills around them grew steadily darker, but the pair noticed not any of these things. Instead, intent upon each other's gaze.

Galahad moved closer to Juliana, fighting to move slowly and not startle her. Their bodies were soon flush against each other. His hand slipped from her hair to the base of her throat, where he could feel her pulse beating rapidly. Juliana's lips were parted in the most alluring way as she breathed heavily, fighting her own desires. Galahad saw his opportunity. She was waiting and willing and the moment couldn't have been more perfect.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he lowered his lips to hers, his eyes intent on hers the whole time as he waited for some sign of protest. She gave none. Galahad took that as his sign to continue and he placed his lips against hers.

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I think I'll leave you all right there (laughs evilly) and you'll just have to wait till the next chapter to see what happens next. So, please review and tell me what you thought. We're moving in just a few days, so the next update won't probably be for awhile. I hope you guys can wait that long, if not, too bad. Lol. Anyways, I'll leave off my rambling now so that you all can go and press that pretty little purple button and leave me the reviews that I'm dying to read.

KnightMaiden, TRISTANLOVER, greenDayzIdiot, grullo-cowgirl, and problemgirl088: Thank you all so much for reviewing.