Author's Notes: Here comes the third chapter! Enjoy!
Chapter III
"My, my. I never thought I'd live to see the day that I see a woman of both Sarmatian and Greek blood," Lancelot commented after watching Iliana leave the council room with Vanora. "I'd love to have her in my lap."
His flirtatious intentions made Tristan look up, his brown gaze narrowing slightly at him. The jovial knight took notice, and he couldn't help but smirk in response.
"If you don't want me attempting to sweep her off her feet, don't let her out of your sight, Tristan. I'm sure that won't be hard with your sharp, observant gaze."
Lancelot did not know how fortunate he was to be on the other side of the table, where Tristan couldn't reach him. If the scout had his way, the probability of him killing the flirtatious warrior was extremely high. Hell, if looks could kill, he would have been dead in his seat by now.
"I think she made it clear she's not interested in you, Lance," Dagonet commented with a smile. "She saw right through you without even having to try."
Lancelot merely chuckled.
"Don't think her rejection will stop me that easily."
That statement only added fuel to the growing fire raging within Tristan's veins. Earning him another haughty smirk from Lancelot, the scout stayed silent as he pulled out an apple and his knife to cut away at it piece by piece.
"All eyes will be on her tonight," Bors said. "She might even make the local wenches jealous of her beauty.
"If they even try to harm her, I know Vanora and the other barmaids will come to her defense if need be. They're always good at having each other's backs with confrontations, and you never get in the middle of two women brawling it out unless you want to sign your own death warrant."
"Okay, knights," Arthur called, his call bringing the room to silence. "I think we can probably continue this at the tavern tonight. We are not due for another mission for a while, but we all know that is quick to change in a short amount of time. For now, let's make sure Ili is welcome and comfortable, and ensure she and Vanora have the help they need."
He then turned to Lancelot, giving him a look.
"I'm serious, Lancelot. Be mindful of your manners. I'll grant her permission to kick your ass if it comes down to it."
The rest of the men chuckled at Arthur's threat, and Lancelot put his hands up in mock surrender, not saying a word.
"Knights, you're dismissed until tomorrow," Arthur announced.
The men stood up from their seats, and before Dagonet passed by Tristan, he placed a hand on the scouts' shoulder.
"I can tell that she intrigues you. Follow Lance's advice and monitor her. Any man, including him, wouldn't pass up the chance to sweep a girl as gorgeous as her off her feet."
A beat passed before Tristan nodded his head and made his leave, heading for the stables to tend to Siria and maybe get to know Arion a little better.
Iliana felt the eyes of the villagers on her and whispers of conversation about her as she followed beside Vanora. She attempted to not feel too awkward; she was the new girl in town, and she expected to have heads turning in her direction. The thought of being stared at in every direction while she worked at the tavern caused her to gulp.
"I wouldn't worry too much, my dear," Vanora assured, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "If anything, I will watch over you, as will Arthur and the men. Most of the patrons know not to mess with them or their charges, and considering you were with Tristan when you arrived, it's a guarantee that they will not touch you."
"That really doesn't surprise me," Iliana spoke when she finally found her voice. "Those of the Hamaxobii tribe have a dangerous, intimidating vibe amongst the people surrounding them."
"And you would know that, being half-Sarmatian," Vanora said with a nod.
"Aye," Iliana replied. "One of my father's comrades is of the Hamaxobii tribe, and he was the one that taught me how to scout and observe during my time in Sarmatia."
"Well, that explains why he's had his eye on you back in the council room."
Iliana looked at the older redhead, a curious glint in her eyes.
"In all the years I have known Tristan, I have never seen him possess such intrigue over a woman," Vanora explained. "Quiet, perceptive, and distant are the words I would use to describe him. Except for Jols, the men, and myself, he intimidates the townsfolk so much that they won't even dare approach him or make eye contact."
Iliana nodded; Andres had intimidated her at first before he opened up to her, and it was the same with Tristan when they first met. If there was one thing she learned, it was that there was more to someone than just their appearances. The only way to really understand someone is to get to know them.
"Loneliness is one hell of a silent killer," she said, a hint of sadness in her tone. "It doesn't take long for it to eat you up inside and slowly torture you."
"Sounds like you speak from experience."
"You can put it that way, aye," Iliana said with a nod.
Vanora was about to inquire further, but stopped herself upon seeing that they had arrived at the tavern. Iliana took a moment to study it in full, and she found herself impressed. Multiple tables and chairs surrounded the perimeter of the vast courtyard and an outdoor bar, which had a doorway connecting it to the building, comprised the outdoor tavern. In the center of the courtyard, she saw a group of about ten children running amok; the boys playing with wooden swords as if they were warriors. She allowed a small smile to form on her lips at the sight of them; it reminded her of her childhood when she and the rest of the children she grew up with played knights and warriors.
"Children!" Vanora called, which caught their attention as they halted their playing, surprising Iliana.
"Are all these children yours?" she asked in disbelief.
"Aye. Including a three-month-old baby, Bors and I have eleven children," Vanora replied.
Iliana was sure she would have dropped from shock. How did a woman that had at least twenty years ahead of her keep up with eleven children? She could barely keep up with at least three of them.
"Ma!"
Iliana turned towards the direction of the call, seeing a young boy of about six years run towards Vanora with a bouquet freshly picked from the grassy plains outside of the town. For a moment, she saw an image of herself at that age in his young, innocent expression, with her father watching and then attempting to chase her.
"Are those for me? Thanks, Gilly," she said with a smile before glancing at Iliana from over her shoulder.
"Before you hand me those flowers, how about you introduce yourself to my new friend over there?"
She nudged him in the back with a gentle push, and the little boy slowly walked towards Iliana. The young girl smiled as she crouched down on her knees so that she was at eye level with him.
"Hello there, little one," she greeted.
"Hi," he greeted back shyly.
"I'm Iliana, but you can call me Ili for short. What's your name?"
"Gilly. My name is Gilly," he replied, fidgeting with the stems of the flowers he held before holding them out to her. "I'll let you pick one. Do any of these flowers stand out to you?"
She tilted her head to the side as she took a moment to gaze at each of the flowers amongst the bouquet. Ultimately, she settled on a white daffodil that was set up directly in the middle of the bouquet and plucked it from the rest of the flowers.
"I'll take this one. Thank you, Gilly. You're a sweet boy."
"Daffodils are the first flowers to bloom in the springtime," Gilly pointed out. "It's said they represent rebirth and new beginnings. Did you come here looking for a new beginning?"
There was a moment of silence before Iliana spoke up.
"I guess you could say that I am looking for a new beginning, Gilly. I'm hoping to start over here at Hadrian's Wall after losing my father two years ago."
The boy simply nodded, and he leaned forward to give her a small, gentle kiss on her cheek.
"I hope you find what you're looking for here, Auntie Ili."
His actions, encouraging words, the kindness in his tone, and that he called her "Auntie" surprised her. She wasn't expecting to be accepted so quickly and easily, and she forced herself to swallow the lump that formed in her throat while also fighting back tears.
"Thanks. I hope so too."
She reached out to ruffle his short, cropped hair, and he smiled at her in response.
"Well, how about I show you to your room and you can relax for a bit before you start work?" Vanora suggested. "I'll call for you when it's time."
Iliana nodded as she straightened up.
"After you, my lady."
It was quiet in the stables when Tristan got there, save for the snorting of the horses. He saw Siria in her usual stall, and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of her. However, he discovered Iliana's horse, Arion, in the stall next to hers, and witnessed Siria nudging the cheek of the great white stallion with her nose, surprising him. When he nudged her back affectionately, the scout wondered how the two horses grew so fond of each other in such a short period.
He whistled softly as he approached the stalls, and he saw Siria's ears perk up before she turned in his direction. She stuck her nose out towards him, and he caressed her cheek with his palm.
"Hey, my gorgeous girl," he cooed as he stroked her neck, to which she responded with a whinny of approval as she nudged his cheek. When he heard Arion let out a whinny of his own, the scout turned to look at him. There was a curious glint in his eyes, and for a moment, a pair of bright blue eyes flashed in the depths of his mind.
Siria nudged him towards the great stallion, and after glancing at her from over his shoulder, Tristan reached out to stroke the stallion's neck. He whinnied in response, but Tristan felt a flow of tension coming off of his broad frame.
"What's wrong?"
The stallion gestured towards the open door of the barn, and he saw the sun brightening up briefly off in the distance towards the direction of the tavern. He put two and two together. Arion was concerned because he could sense that Iliana was anxious. He thought she handled herself well back in the council room, unless it was something else driving that said anxiety.
"Hey. Don't worry. I've got her."
Arion let out another whinny that was a little more relaxed. However, Tristan still felt the tension flowing off of him. In honesty, a part of him was concerned about her, and it was a strange feeling to him. Perhaps it was because he thought there was a ray of light (as her name implied) somewhere within her, waiting to make itself known.
He pulled his hand away from Arion's neck and let out a sigh. This behavior was not like him, nor was it like him to feel for anyone other than his brothers, Jols and Vanora. What was about it about this girl of both Sarmatian and Greek blood that made him care so much?
Thinking it over, Tristan couldn't help but acknowledge that it was the combination of the fact that she was part Sarmatian, and that she was the legendary Leoric's daughter. Supposedly, he possessed his tribe's instincts of a wolf, but he was also bloodthirsty and killed for release. It reminded him of himself and his way of thinking, making him wonder if Leoric had a similar mindset. At the very least, there was a woman that accepted him for who he was, despite his infamous reputation. Only a select handful of people would have seen the real Leoric, just like how only the men, Jols and Vanora, knew the real Tristan. He thought that no woman would accept him, while Leoric found someone that did.
Arion and Siria snorted, snapping him out of his thoughts; he had lingered on the thought of her for too long, and it was about time to head to the tavern. A part of him boiled over the thought of other men leering at her, and with the knowledge of so many eyes on her, he needed to be vigilant if he was to ensure her safety. He would worry about the effect she had on him later, for he had something bigger to worry about. He gave both Arion and Siria a last stroke on each of their necks and left the stables, hoping to make his usual spot off in the corner and position himself to watch Iliana and the patrons.
It took every bit of strength Iliana had to not break down in the upstairs bedroom that she now called hers after washing the dirt and grime off her hair and body. The doorway in the back of the outdoor bar connected to a loft that housed the said room, and she would be close to Vanora if she needed anything. She placed the daffodil she plucked from Gilly in a simple vase and rummaged through the dresses that Jols brought to her from Arion's saddle. Having collected a share of Greek style dresses from the seamstresses she met during her journey to Britain, she had a variety of them to choose from.
Not wanting to attract too much attention to herself, she ultimately settled on a simple, floor length, sleeveless dress with a high neckline that didn't expose her too much. A shade of bright green embroidered with gold trimming on the sleeves and the area just below the breasts. It was simple, yet also elegant at the same time. However, she could move about freely and the dress wasn't too long to where she had to lift the skirt to walk. If she was going to be moving about a lot, she needed to be comfortable and not trip on her own two feet.
She pulled her blonde hair back into a simple, low ponytail, and she pulled two strands to hang freely down her cheeks. Once again, simple, but elegant.
She was studying her look in the mirror, twirling and swishing her skirt, when she heard a knock on the door.
"Ili?" Vanora's voice called from the other side of the door.
"Come on in," she called back.
Vanora opened the door, and when she saw her, her eyes widened in awe.
"Wow. I'm curious to know how many other dresses you have. This really shows your Greek roots, my dear.
"You may even make the wenches envious of you, and a part of me is dying to find out if that's the case."
"I saw a couple of them giving me dirty looks when Tristan escorted me to the council room earlier," Iliana pointed out.
"Don't take it too personally, dear. The men have their 'ways' of handling what they've seen and dealt with in this servitude to Rome," Vanora explained. "Tristan takes pride in not sleeping around with the wenches as much as Lancelot, Gawain and Galahad, but that doesn't mean he isn't entirely immune to those carnal desires."
Iliana nodded, being reminded of her own pride and dignity with her physical purity.
"Hmm…" Vanora muttered, taking a moment to study her.
"What is it?" Iliana asked, feeling a little uneasy.
"I was trying to see how you captured Tristan's attention. I have never seen him look at a woman the way he looks at you," Vanora replied.
While she felt the scouts' gaze on her during her discussion with the men, Iliana wondered what kind of look he had. A part of her was grateful that he couldn't see her face from the angle she was at, but she also wondered what he deciphered by her body language and behavior.
"I don't know why he finds me captivating. There's really nothing interesting about me."
"Then perhaps you're not seeing what he's seeing," Vanora pointed out, which made the young girl raise a brow at what Tristan exactly saw in her.
"You'll see what I mean in due time, dear," she assured. "For now, let's head down to the tavern. I'll teach you the basics, make sure you're off limits, and you'll be on your way to serving ale with little trouble in no time."
Unable to speak a word, Iliana simply nodded and followed her out of the room and downstairs back to the courtyard. Sure enough, it was filling up, and she saw the knights entering. She smiled at them as they acknowledged her, and when her eyes locked with Tristan's, she felt her heart flutter. She felt Vanora nudge her, and when turned to look at her, she gave her a wink, causing her to chuckle.
I'm not the one for him, Vanora. I lack what he needs.
Once again, the voice in the back of her head from earlier was telling her differently, but she ignored it and shook her head as she got ready to work.
The tavern was filling up when the knights finally arrived. The usual patrons were getting themselves comfortable, and the wenches were flashing more cleavage and thigh than normal as they prepared their seductive wiles for the males. As the men split up to have their respective "fun", Tristan took his usual spot in a table off in the far corner. He leaned against the wall behind him and propped his feet up on a wooden stool just across from him. As he pulled out his knife to cut into an apple, he heard the pouring of liquid and saw someone set a clay cup down before him. When he looked up, he saw it was Iliana pouring him a drink.
"This is my thanks for escorting me here. You're my first customer."
His gaze locked with hers for a moment, and he nodded at her before she turned to go serve another table. He watched as she worked, Vanora checking on her occasionally to make sure she was okay. The bright green dress she wore made her look like a maiden that came from the nearby forest, and the gold trimming complimented the color and style. He also noticed that she tied her hair back, and with the two loose strands hanging down her cheeks, he had to acknowledge that she looked beautiful.
He noticed a couple of male patrons leering at her, and when one of them made a comment about her, Vanora was quick to smack him upside the head and tell them both to mind their manners. The same went for two other barmaids and the men, with Lancelot attempting to flirt with her occasionally. Whenever he did, he would look at him and smirk, causing Tristan to narrow his eyes in response.
As Bors predicted, the wenches were eyeing her with envy, but none of them made a move to insult her. Vanora and the other barmaids made it clear to them they would suffer the consequences if they uttered a single, degrading word.
When she came back to the bar, she took a moment to steal a quick glance at him before grabbing another full pitcher and assisting Vanora with a group of Roman soldiers that just sat down. The look she had in her eyes was a combination of curiosity and longing, making him wonder what triggered it.
Unfortunately, he had little time to dwell on it when cheering broke out from where Gawain and Galahad were at. They were about to play another knife throwing game, and Bors waved in his direction.
"Oi, Tristan! Come join us! Galahad could probably use an ass kicking!"
It had been a while since he used his knife for anything other than cutting apples and killing enemies. After finishing his apple and drinking his ale, Tristan rose from his spot and headed to the gathering, holding his knife by the blade, ready to take part in a fresh round.
"Vanora, what are the men doing?" Iliana asked, gesturing towards the gathering as she walked beside the redhead back to the bar.
"They're playing a game of knife throwing," Vanora replied. "Gawain and Galahad are usually the ones that play, and Tristan jumps in occasionally. The primary goal is to get your knife as close to the center of the stool as possible.
"If you want to watch them, go ahead. You did great tonight."
She nodded and watched from the bar, leaning against a wooden post next to her. Gawain was the first to start it off, his knife hitting a couple of inches above the center. Galahad went next, his knife closer to center, but was off to the right by an inch. Last, there was Tristan, and with a casual hold of his knife by the blade, tossed it, landing dead center. She couldn't help but giggle at the annoyed looks Gawain and Galahad had on their faces before they collected their knives for another round.
"Would you care to try a round, lass?"
Dagonet's voice cut through the silence ringing in her ears, and she turned to look at the tall, fearsome, yet gentle knight.
"Oh. I don't know. Maybe. I'm not sure."
His sudden question startled her, and he smiled at her before they watched a second round. It was the same order as before. Gawain threw first, his blade landing about three inches above the center. Galahad followed, landing his blade dead center, causing him to smile and earning him a face from Gawain that made Iliana giggle. Unfortunately, his victory was short-lived, for when Tristan threw his blade, the tip landed on the hilt of Galahad's knife, which caused Iliana's jaw to drop slightly.
"Does he do that a lot?" she whispered to Dagonet.
"From time to time, aye," he replied. "Still want to try it?"
Iliana looked up at him, and after stealing a glance at the stool with the knives still intact, Iliana kneeled down to pull her knife from its holster in her sandal. She flipped it in the air before taking aim from where she was at, using her left arm to steady her right as Dagonet watched her with interest. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and once she let it out, she let the knife fly. The blade landed on the hilt of Tristan's knife, causing everyone to turn her way in surprise as she giggled.
"Well done, lass," Dagonet complimented, patting her on the shoulder.
"Okay. I challenge you to a match, Ili," Galahad announced boldly, pointing a finger at her.
Iliana tilted her head, giving him a look.
"I accept. Best two out of three."
Gawain pulled her knife from the stool and handed it to her as she approached the crowd. She pulled Tristan's knife, turning to face him as she flipped it in her hand and handed it to him. She noted the intrigued look in his eyes as Galahad aimed his knife and threw. He cursed as the blade landed a few inches to the left of the center, earning him some teasing from Gawain, Bors and Lancelot, and laughs from Arthur, Dagonet, and the crowd. She stepped up, aiming the same way as before, and threw the knife, following another deep breath. It landed dead center, and whistles and cheers broke out amongst the crowd. She giggled at the pout Galahad had on his face, and she leaned forward slightly to get a closer look while smiling her sweetest smile at him.
"Come on, Galahad. I wouldn't want you embarrassing yourself in front of everyone here."
Her teasing earned her a growl from the young knight, and he was quick to collect the knives. She watched him throw his own knife and surprised her when it landed close to the center. When he gave her a smirk, she took aim, and with a small smile and a giggle, threw the blade. The tip landed dead center once again, shocking everyone and, most of all, the young knight himself.
"Looks like I won this one," she announced, going to collect her knife.
"Vanora, a drink for Ili. On me," Galahad called, to which the redhead nodded and poured a cup of ale, handing it to the young girl.
"Thank you, Vanora. Thank you, Galahad," she said, proceeding to take a hearty gulp after raising it.
"Want to call it an evening, Ili?" Vanora asked. "I think I've got it from here."
"Are you sure?" Iliana asked.
"Aye. You did great today, and I know you've had a long journey to boot. Go on and turn in for the night. About the same time tomorrow, okay?"
"Aye. Thanks, Vanora. Thanks, everyone."
She downed the rest of her cup in a few gulps before retreating to her room in the loft. Changing into a simple slip, she pulled the sheets back and plopped down on the pillow, allowing herself to drift off into a much-needed and earned slumber.
End Notes: Check back sometime next week for more chapters! Depending on your feedback, I may post sooner!