Chapter Twelve
Galahad paced in front of the church's doors. To go in or not to go in, that was the question. He ran a hand through his already tousled hair and sighed.
The whole day he had been unable to concentrate on anything but Juliana. And he desperately needed to talk to her. He had to know whether or not she'd been as effected by their kiss, or rather kisses, as he had been.
The heavy wooden doors of the church loomed over him and Galahad quit his pacing as his eyes rested on the plain, dark wood. What was he thinking, he couldn't face Juliana. No doubt she regretted her actions and, even at that moment, was probably praying to her god for forgiveness.
So what was Galahad doing going to talk to her about how much he had grown to care for her? Juliana would not, and could not, reciprocate his feelings. So what was the point?
With a sigh, he turned from the church.
No, he thought, turning back to face the doors, why should I keep my feelings hidden? Why shouldn't I tell her? I love her. Surely that must mean something.
At the word love, Galahad paused. True he had known himself to be in love with Juliana, but to go in there and tell her that was different from admitting it to himself. She would reject him, of that Galahad was certain.
Just do it. The little voice inside his head spoke up. Just go in there and do it.
Closing his eyes, Galahad sought insight to his quandary. And then, propelled by a burst of courage, he pushed open the doors and walked inside.
> > > > >
Gawain didn't know how he came to be at the church, or why he had even sought out the young nun that Galahad seemed to be so entranced with. All he knew, was that he had been driven, as if by an invisible hand, to the very spot that he now stood.
In front of him, the nun was looking at him through frightened eyes. Gawain surveyed her body openly, not used to having to hide his appraisal of women. From the small bit of her that he could see, he could understand why his friend was so captivated by this woman.
Gawain had seen her before; he remembered her eyes as the ones that had peered at him over the wall and he remembered her from that day when Arthur had sent him to fetch Galahad from the plains. That time she had had her hair released and Gawain could remember the very thoughts that he had had of her. Thoughts that had made his blood boil with lust and desire.
He raised a hand to brush against her pale skin, and he couldn't help but think that that skin would be as soft as a new born babe's. She flinched as his work-roughened fingers moved against her skin, but she made no attempt to move away from him. Gawain admired that. She was frightened, and yet she stood her ground. She showed the one quality that every knight should possess.
A hot tear touched his finger and it was only at that moment that he realized she'd been crying. Gawain wanted to reassure her, to tell her that he would not harm her. But, at that moment, he wasn't sure what orders his body would take: to leave the girl alone, or take her in all her untainted beauty.
To do that, to have her in such a way that no man was allowed, right there in the center of the church would have been a great blow to the Christians. Gawain knew that with one wicked action, he could tear this one woman's faith to shreds and, in the process, rid Camelot of at least one Christian.
But just as that one evil part of his mind was winning out, the doors behind him opened and Gawain felt himself being pulled roughly away from the young woman. He was turned around and came face to face with the furious expression that Galahad wore.
> > > > >
A coldness filled Juliana as the knight's fingers brushed against her face. She wanted nothing more than to get away from him and his impending actions, but her feet felt as if they had been nailed to the floor. Her body was paralyzed, unable to move in any direction much less move in order to escape.
Tears, hot with fear slipped down her face. One by one they slid, down her cheeks and her chin and then falling onto the cold stone floor. A shiver ran through her body, and Juliana felt herself begin to tremble as she continued to stare into the icy depths of the knight's eyes. She could not tear her gaze from his, no matter how hard she tried. He stared back at her, his own gaze reading the fear within her.
It felt like an eternity that they stood there, his hand on her face and terror running through her veins. But they stood only a few seconds before he was yanked away from her by an unseen savior.
He turned, his body continuing to block that of her rescuer's. Juliana wanted to see who had saved her, but her feet sprang to life at that moment and quickly carried her from the sanctuary and up the stairs to her apartment.
> > > > >
"Galahad-"
He didn't wait for Gawain to finish his sentence before punching his once closest friend in the jaw. Gawain's head snapped to the side and his hand came up slowly to rub the aching joint.
Galahad was fuming with anger. What right did Gawain have to touch Juliana?
The moment that he walked inside the church, Galahad could sense that something was not right. He had seen Gawain at the altar, a nun standing in front of him. Her face had been hidden by his friend's broad shoulders, but Galahad knew that it was her.
Gawain looked at him, his own eyes filled with the same anger that Galahad felt surging through his veins. His blood was boiling and his fingers itched to wrap around the hilt of his sword. He was ready to fight.
"What the bloody hell was that for?" Gawain seethed, spitting out bits of blood that would forever stain the stone floor.
Galahad did not reply with words, but with another punch thrown. Gawain grabbed the fist and twisted Galahad's arm behind his back. The younger knight winced as his muscles protested the action. He never had been able to best Gawain in hand-to-hand combat.
"You need to cool off friend." The last word was spoken with an edge. Galahad struggled against Gawain's hold, but to no avail.
The older knight forced him outside and Galahad had just enough time to take a deep breath before Gawain forced his head into the nearest rain bucket.
His lungs felt tight as he struggled further against the hand that kept him beneath the water. Just when he thought he was about to pass out, Gawain pulled him up.
Sputtering, Galahad pulled free of Gawain's hold and pushed his friend back from him.
"You had no right." He huffed, trying to regain his breath.
"No right to what, to dunk you in the water, or to visit your little friend?" Gawain asked, clearly annoyed at the quick tempered actions of the young knight.
Anger renewed at the thought of Gawain touching Juliana, Galahad glared at the other man.
"Both." He seethed. His anger was further incensed by the laugh that erupted from Gawain's lips. He launched himself at the knight, wrapping his arms around his waist and tackling him to the ground.
> > > > >
Arthur surveyed his two knights as they stood before him with cuts and bruises on their faces and hands. How long they had been fighting in front of the church, Arthur did not know. What he did know, was that the argument must have been about something of great importance for these two close friends to come to blows.
"Well," he said, breaking the silence that had settled over the three of them, "what do you two have to say for yourselves?"
Arthur couldn't help the grin that came over his face as he spoke. This was just too comical. To think, two grown men acting like little boys in a scuffle.
They remained stubbornly silent. Arthur sighed. If this was what fatherhood was going to be like, than he'd rather be childless.
> > > > >
Three months passed. Three months in which Gawain and Galahad spoke to each other only when need be. Three months in which Juliana remained cloistered inside the church, not leaving even to paint.
The harvest festival was swiftly approaching. The full moon would be in two days and then it would be time to light the bonfires and give thanks to the gods which the villagers worshiped.
During those days before the festival, Mother Superior and the nuns were hard at work trying to convert people, to make them see the sin that rested within the ploy of the festival. The only nun who did not try and speak to the villagers, was Juliana. She dared not go out into the streets for fear of running into Galahad or the knight that had cornered her inside the church.
Whilst the nuns were at work, so, too, were the knights. They helped to bring in the wheat and the hay, and to cut it and dry it to store for that winter. Galahad remained a safe distance from Gawain, unsure of whether or not he'd be able to contain his temper should the other knight be within close distance of him. So the two worked in separate fields, each doing more than their fair share of work so that they could tumble into bed at night, too tired to do anything but sleep.
And so, when the moon was full and three spirits were at discontent, the harvest festival arrived.
> > > > >
Outside of her window, Juliana could see the bonfires that littered the now empty fields. She could see the shadows of the people that ringed the fires as they danced and drank and gave in to the desires of the flesh.
She sighed. Just once, Juliana wished that she could have been given a different life to lead. A life where she could be free of restrictions and live the way that she wished. But she couldn't. Her mother had left her on the church's steps for a reason, and Juliana wanted to fulfill the desires of a woman she had never known, yet longed to be close to.
A cool breeze filtered through the window, brushing against Juliana's face and making her hair graze her cheeks. The intoxicating scent of burning wood and leaves assailed her nose and Juliana breathed in deeply. She loved that smell.
Laughter carried on the breeze, traveling the far way from the fields to the town. Juliana sighed once more.
It was late, everyone else was no doubt asleep, and Juliana felt the stirring of rebellion inside of her. It always happened like this. Late at night, when no one else was around, she would get the urge to walk through the dark and drink in the wickedness her actions loaned to the beautiful night.
I can't do it, she protested the feeling, not tonight. I could run into a drunk man or- but she did not finish her thought that she might run into Galahad or into the other knight. And, if either were drunk…Juliana shivered. She did not want to think of what might happen.
But still, the feeling was there and it was growing stronger. Soon she would be unable to resist its tug and she would give in and let it over take her.
So why delay the inevitable? She thought, grabbing her cloak and leaving her apartment.
> > > > >
Ooh, what's gonna happen now? Lol. Juliana might just get herself into some trouble out there at night, with all those people celebrating. Hmm, wonder who she might run into. Oh gosh am I evil or what? Hehe. Please review and tell me what you thought.
PS. Next chapter should be pretty long since I have a lot that I want to cover, but I make no promises.
Wander of the Roads: Thanks for the nit-picking. You're really helping me see where some of my errors are in writing.
KnightMaiden: Sorry to disappoint you, but this is a Galahad story. Gawain's just a nice bit of drama.
KingArthurgirl: Yeah, sorry 'bout making Gawain seem evil. He's really not, that's just kinda how he comes off to Juliana. I'll try and make his softer side come out more in the upcoming chapters.
CHELSEA, TRISTANLOVER, greenDayzIdiot, Evenstar-mor2004, Lady Marek, homeric, the sarahnater, grullo-cowgirl, problemgirl088, and Winged Seraph: Thank you all so much for reviewing. You guys really help me keep motivated in writing this story. Thank you for all your insight and encouragement.