Author's Notes: As promised, here's Chapter Seven! Enjoy!
Chapter VII
Tristan was up from his seat almost immediately when he saw Iliana was going to fall, and he was quick to catch her before she could hit the ground. Her cheeks were a shade of pink thanks to the alcohol in her system, and the scent of lilac and lavender that was flowing off her person began invading his nostrils and sense of reason. He brought her head to rest against his chest as he wrapped one arm around her back and positioned his other arm under her knees to lift her up.
When he lifted her, he discovered how light she really was. That, in combination with how skinny she was, explained why she passed out so quickly.
"She passed out, didn't she?" Gawain asked with a chuckle as he noted her sleeping form.
"Oh. Sorry about that," Bors said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "Guess I pushed her a little too hard to enjoy herself."
He approached them, reaching out to ruffle her hair as she slept.
"I applaud her, though. Five ales before she passed out, especially considering how tiny she looks."
"No joke. She's a lot smaller than I expected her to be," Galahad said as he studied her.
"At the very least, let's get her up to her room so that she can sleep it off," Vanora announced, giggling at her new barmaid as she slept in Tristan's arms.
"I'll stay with her until she sobers up," Tristan announced, surprising Vanora and the men.
"Let me go get a couple extra blankets and a pillow," Vanora said, leaving for her and Bors's personal quarters. Tristan adjusted the sleeping Iliana in his arms, and once he had a solid hold on her, he made his way to the loft she was staying in.
The men were watching him with intrigue as he carried her off.
"He likes her. It would be the only reason he'd be so willing to stay with her and watch over her," Galahad pointed out.
"The problem is that he'll never acknowledge it out loud," Gawain commented, taking a hearty sip of ale from his cup.
Lancelot realized that his days of flirting with Iliana would soon come to an end.
"Oh, Tristan. How I wish I could be in your shoes."
"What Tristan wants, he'll take, but how will he approach that mindset with a woman?" Bors asked.
"Tristan wouldn't take Ili by force," Dagonet replied. "Even if he truly wants her, he would only take her if she reciprocated those feelings."
"So, what in the blimey hell is holding him back from being honest with her?" Bors asked.
"There is something else about her, which I believe he wants to find out first before he even takes that leap," Dagonet replied. "Have any of you noticed how when she smiles, it doesn't reach her eyes?"
The men all looked at each other and nodded.
"He wants to find out what's triggering that first. He's probably deciphered a lot about her in the many times that he's followed her and watched her in the past month.
"However, that's been nagging at him since they first met, and he suspects it has something to do with Leoric's passing. The knowledge that he can't figure out the source of the darkness in her heart bothers him. I believe he wants Ili to let him in, but he doesn't know how to approach her.
"Yet, despite her slowly opening up to each one of us, something is preventing her from opening her heart up completely."
"Ili has only been here a month," Arthur chimed in. "There's probably several aspects about life here that she still has yet to adjust to. We just need to give her time, and we'll be there for her whenever she needs it. This transition is still new to her and when she's ready to talk, I'm sure she'll let us know."
The men all nodded in agreement, staring at the loft and wondering about the half-Sarmatian, half-Greek girl that touched each of their hearts and captured the heart of their scout brother.
Tristan took care as he carried Iliana upstairs to her room. As light as she was, her passed out self also meant a little extra weight for him to carry, but it didn't prove too difficult for him. Her breathing was steady, and on certain occasions, she would rub her cheek against him. The tip of her nose occasionally tickled his neck when she did, making his heart race even more at the realization of how close they were.
When he reached her door, he was grateful to discover it was unlocked, and he had to push it open with his foot thanks to his arms being occupied. After they were inside, he used his foot to close it and carried her over to the bed. He pulled back the sheet, and he gently set her down on the mattress. He removed her boots, setting them down at the foot of the bed, and then he brought the blanket up to her chest. She shifted in the bed until she was comfortable, moving her head to the side and exposing her neck to him. Unable to resist temptation any longer, Tristan reached out and caressed her neck with both his index and middle finger. Beneath his calloused touch, he felt how smooth her skin was, which only fueled his desire to touch her even more. He paused when she stirred in her sleep, leaning into his touch, but to his relief, she didn't wake up, allowing him to touch her for a little while longer.
The moonlight shined through the window next to the bed, causing her face to glow beneath its pale hue. Even in the darkness, Iliana seemed to have a way to glimmer through it. Yet, that same glimmer was not present in those blue eyes that he had grown to adore in the month he spent following her and watching her. Although her eyes were closed, Tristan could still see the sadness reflected in them.
A sudden tap on the window from behind him snapped him out of his thoughts, and when he turned to see what it was, he smiled when he saw it was Talia. He approached the window and opened it, letting her in while giving her a stroke on her chest.
"Hey there, beautiful," he greeted.
She reached down on the table for some seeds, and glancing between them and her, Tristan realized Iliana had been feeding them to her. His smile widened slightly when he grabbed a handful of them and offered them to her. She let out a small cry towards Iliana before proceeding to scoop the seeds up in her beak.
"She had a little too much to drink. Don't worry. She'll be okay. I'm watching her," he said in that soft tone he reserved for her and Siria.
Talia let out another soft cry in response before scooping up some more seeds in her beak. He watched as she finished eating, and right when she scooped up the last of the seeds, there was a knock on the door, and she flew off into the night.
"Tristan?" he heard Vanora call from the other side of the door.
"Come on in."
The older redhead opened the door slowly, revealing herself as she carried a fur blanket, a spare blanket and a pillow.
"Here you go," she said, setting the bundle down on the floor before turning to look at Iliana. "How is she?"
"Out like a light. She'll sleep it off for the rest of the evening," he replied.
She chuckled, reaching to brush her hair out of her face before turning to face the scout with a serious look on her face.
"I'm going to ask this straight out because I care for Ili as if she were my daughter, and I won't say anything unless she asks. Do you harbor feelings for her?"
Based on the way he was looking at her, Tristan knew that there was no sense in concealing the truth when she already knew. Having been around the men for basically the entirety of their servitude, she knew them inside and out.
"I am drawn to her, but it's her personality that has me entranced more than anything. Her Sarmatian and Greek heritage intrigues me."
Vanora nodded as she glanced between the two of them.
"A girl of the two races that stood up to Rome would stand out amongst the crowd. However, it's the fact that she's the daughter of the most lethal Sarmatian warrior Rome has ever recruited that really makes her stand out.
"He had to have taught her how to fight."
Tristan saw from the corner of his eye the sword that he remembered Iliana had strapped to her waist when they first met, leaning against the wall next to the trunk. He walked over to where it was, picking it up by the sheath with his left hand, and with a firm grip on the hilt with his right, unsheathed it slowly and carefully as Vanora watched. Once the blade was out, he set the sheath down on the table and took a moment to study it.
The first thing he saw was the engraved picture of the sun with a ray of light shining down, a reference to the meaning of Iliana's name. There was also lettering engraved in the blade and around the picture that he didn't recognize, and he assumed it was a Greek saying. When he turned the blade to see the other side, the Sarmatian lettering engraved into it surprised him. He had seen nothing like it since he left home, and it provided him a sense of comfort that he hadn't felt in a long time.
When he reached out to touch the blade, Tristan found out that it was slightly dull, and he reached into his pocket for the whetstone that he always kept on him for his own sword.
"Well, I'll leave you to it, Tristan," Vanora announced. "Have a good night, and call for me if you or Ili need anything."
When he nodded, the redhead left, leaving him alone with the sleeping Iliana. He watched her for a moment longer before beginning sharpening her sword. It was a scimitar; the blade curving at the end, which was identical to his own. It was also lighter than his sword, and based on its weight, she could swing it gracefully and also move swiftly to dodge an incoming attack. He pictured her holding the hilt with both hands, pointing the tip forward as a few Woads came at her, and before they got the chance to strike, they were down in one fell swoop. He wondered if she killed anyone with this sword, and if so, how many?
He flipped the sword to the side with the Sarmatian lettering, taking a moment to study it as he ran the whetstone over the blade. It took him a bit to decipher what it said because of his dialect having gone rusty throughout the years, but he recognized it was an old saying of the Roxolani tribe.
"Possess the instincts of a wolf and you're capable of even the toughest of hardships."
Growing up in the lands neighboring the Roxolani, Tristan was all too familiar with the stories surrounding them. Warriors of the Roxolani were wolves in human form according to what he was told: fierce and deadly in battle, loyal to their companions, and tender and loving with their women and children. Leoric was all that and more, but only the warrior side of him was told in tales. Except for his remaining comrades, hardly anyone knew of his wife and Iliana, and the people would find it hard to believe he settled down and raised a child. Iliana's presence proved that there was more to someone than what the stories told.
He felt the edges, noting how much of a difference there was after sharpening. The blade was definitely sharp enough to kill, and he couldn't wait to see her use it for real.
He reached for the sheath, slowly sliding the sword back into it before placing it atop the table. When he turned back to look at Iliana, he heard her whimper and watched as she buried her face into her pillow. There was a brief twinkle in the corner of her eye as the moonlight shined, and a tear came down.
"Father, I'm so sorry. I've failed you. Please don't leave me…"
He felt his heart sink into the deepest pit of his stomach at her words as he stood up and approached her, wiping her tears away from her cheek. Did she feel at fault for Leoric's passing? Was that the darkness that had been plaguing her heart and mind? If there was anyone to blame for Leoric's death, it wasn't her, but the one that inflicted the battle wound responsible for the illness that ultimately killed him.
"I killed Mother too. She died giving me life. I don't deserve to live…"
If anything was to shock the scout into a stupor, it was this statement. Why would she blame herself for something that was completely out of her control? While he didn't know her mother, he knew that she would have wanted Iliana to live the life she gave to her. What was it she really thought of herself to believe that she didn't deserve the life her parents had given her?
After wiping away a few more tears, Tristan got ready for bed. He spread out the fur blanket and fluffed out the pillow before removing his boots and then throwing the spare blanket over himself. Usually, he would have taken his tunic off, but he didn't want to make Iliana uncomfortable in case she woke up before he did. Before allowing himself to drift off to sleep, he stole one last look at her, wondering what was going on in her mind.
When Tristan woke up the next morning, the first thing he did was rub the sleep out of his eyes and sit up. His back and shoulders were stiff as he stretched, the result of sleeping on the floor. When his vision cleared, the first thing he saw was Iliana. She was still asleep in her bed, and as he took a moment to gaze at her, he wondered how much longer she was going to be out before she finally came to.
Just as he stood up and put his boots on, there was a soft knock on the door before it cracked open to reveal Vanora.
"Good morning, Tristan," she greeted before looking at Iliana. "Ah. She's still sleeping."
"I'm not sure how much longer she'll be asleep," Tristan said.
"Guess I'm here to relieve you of watching her," Vanora announced. "Arthur called for a meeting, according to Bors."
He nodded as he folded up the blankets and set the pillow on top of them. He adjusted his boots and shirt, allowing himself one last look at Iliana.
"Don't worry about her, Tristan. I've got her," Vanora assured.
He left without a word, leaving the redhead with the young girl that was only adding to his growing intrigue.
Somewhere in a dark abyss, Iliana wandered. Where she was going, she did not know. She wandered for what felt like an eternity until she saw a silver lining off into the distance and heard Talia's familiar cry before seeing her silhouette flying towards the lining. Following her, she stepped into the light, and the next thing she knew, she was reverting to her nine-year-old self in the grasslands of Sarmatia.
She sat on a log that was buried in the grass, enjoying the clear sky as blue as her eyes as the sun graced the open field with its light and heat. Be it you ran in the field or took your horse out for a ride, there were plenty of fields to explore for an adventure.
Off in the distance, she saw a boy gathering some wildflowers to give to a girl that was close to her age. She could tell that he liked the girl, and she reciprocated those feelings as she happily took the bouquet that he made for her. As happy as she was for them, she couldn't help the sting that nagged her heart at the belief that a man, when she finally came of age, would never love her.
She was so distracted by the depths of her thoughts that she didn't hear Leoric call for her. The handsome, older, Sarmatian warrior followed her gaze, seeing the two kids, and with a small smile, made his way over to her with two plates of freshly cooked food in hand.
"It's lunchtime, little one," he announced as he sat down by her and handed her a plate.
"Thank you, Father. I must have not heard you. I'm sorry," she said as she took the plate and tore into the drumstick, the juices filling her mouth as she savored the flavor.
"No apology necessary, my sweet girl," he said, reaching out to ruffle her hair. "What troubles you?"
"I wish to fall in love someday, Father. I hope there's a man out there who will want to love me."
"And so you shall, my darling," Leoric said in a gentle tone that was reserved just for her. "When you finally come of age, you will be a beautiful woman that men will throw themselves at your feet, and they will beg to court you.
"You will look just like your mother when you finally get there. I can already tell."
Iliana smiled slightly at him, and he reached out to wipe a tear that escaped her eye.
"How did Mother capture your attention?"
He let out a small chuckle before he spoke up.
"When I first saw your mother, I knew that my heart belonged to her. She felt the same for me, and she was the first outside of my brothers-in-arms to not cower in fear when she learned who I was.
"At first, I believed it was too good to be true. I tried to stay away from her, but she wanted to chase after me, and when she caught up to me, she held onto me and never let go. When she professed her feelings for me and told me she wasn't fearful of me, I knew she had my heart."
"How will I know if a man has captured my heart?" Iliana asked.
"He will be all you ever think about," Leoric replied. "At the mere thought of him, your heart will pound. It will feel that you have butterflies in your stomach, and you will want to be enveloped in his scent and his presence all the time."
At that moment, her mind conjured up the image of Tristan perched atop Siria with Talia on his arm, and as she breathed through her nose, she inhaled the scent of the earth, burning wood and pine.
"When it all comes together, you will feel it in your heart, and you will only be able to resist it for so long before you can't fight it anymore," Leoric announced. "When you fall in love, you will know, my darling ray of light."
Iliana groaned as a bright light hit her face, causing her to bury her face into the fabric of her pillow. Her head was pounding, and after a moment of keeping her eyes shut, she slowly opened them. She used her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as the pain rocked her temples like no tomorrow.
That's right. I passed out after I finished my fifth round of ale, she thought as her memory came back to her. God, Father, please grant me the relief needed to take this horrendous hangover away from me.
A familiar cry from the window startled her, and she saw Talia looking at her with a peculiar look in her eyes.
"Morning, Talia," she greeted, allowing herself to sit up. Blinking a few times to clear her half-blurred vision, Iliana saw her sword was on the table as opposed to against the wall next to the trunk. In addition, there was a fur blanket, a spare blanket, and a pillow folded on the floor near the door. Was somebody here? Did they spend the evening watching her as she was in her drunken stupor?
She had little time to dwell on it when a knock on her door interrupted her thoughts.
"Ili? Are you up?"
She let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding at the sound of Vanora's voice.
"Come on in," she called.
The door swung open, revealing the redhead as she carried a bowl of the same stew she fed Bors on her first morning at the Wall, along with some bread.
"Good morning, dear. How are you feeling?" she asked with a chuckle as she pulled up a chair from the table and sat down across from her.
"Like I got beaten upside the head," Iliana replied, wincing as a wave of pain racked her skull.
"I'm not surprised. In fact, it impressed me you kept up with the men last night," Vanora stated, handing her the bowl. "Eat up. You'll feel better once you finish it."
Iliana nodded and took the bowl, setting it in her lap as she ate it. It was just as she remembered Gilly telling her on her first morning: bland and bitter, with a hint of spice. She made a face after downing the first few bites, and Vanora tore off a chunk of bread, which she ate to help counter the taste.
"Did someone stay in the room with me last night?" she asked once she got halfway through the bowl and ate another piece of bread.
"Aye. Tristan did," Vanora replied.
Iliana nearly choked on her latest bite at the revelation, but she regained her composure as she forced herself to swallow it.
"What's the last thing you remember?" Vanora asked.
"I remembered downing the drink Galahad gave me after winning our knife throwing game," Iliana explained. "I went to go collect my dagger when everything around me spun, and that's the last thing I remember before I woke up."
Vanora giggled, causing her to give her a look before she spoke up.
"Tristan was up and by your side in a matter of seconds when he saw you were going to faint. He caught you before you hit the ground, carried you up to your room and put you to bed. I got him those spare blankets and pillow, and he stayed the night here."
She stole a glance over her shoulder at Iliana's sword.
"He also sharpened your sword while he was watching you."
Iliana couldn't think of any words she could use to describe what she was currently feeling. Tristan went to all this trouble to take care of her at the expense of his own time, telling her that there was more to the man beneath his silent, distant nature. Yet, as touched as she was by the kind gesture, it also confused her. Why did he even bother, and why did he care so much for her?
"Where is Tristan?"
"Oh, you just missed him," Vanora replied. "Arthur called for a meeting earlier this morning, and he had to leave."
Iliana felt a stinging sensation hit her heart as she barely swallowed the last bite of stew from her bowl. At the very least, she wanted to thank him for taking the time to take care of her. Vanora, seeing her disappointed expression, was about to say something to comfort her when a familiar voice called out.
"Ma!"
The two women looked to see Gilly standing in the doorway, panting heavily as if he ran all the way here.
"Gilly! Are you okay, dear?" Vanora asked.
"Auntie Ili! You're awake! Please come to the stables!" Gilly cried, grabbing her hand and tugging her.
"Whoa, whoa, Gilly. Slow down," Iliana cooed, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Calm down, take a deep breath, and then tell me what's going on."
He nodded and did as he was told, and when he let out his breath, he calmed down and looked Iliana directly in the eyes.
"You need to come to the stables, Auntie Ili," he explained. "Pa and the men have to leave for a mission, but the horses are restless. They refuse to listen to any of their commands, much less leave the barn. Uncle Tristan asked me to come get you."
Iliana couldn't help but chuckle as she handed the empty bowl back to Vanora, a small smile forming on her lips.
"Let me get changed and I'll let you lead the way, little man."
Gilly was holding Iliana's hand as they made their way through town towards the stables. She changed out of her fancy dress into a simple, long-sleeved white tunic that hung off her shoulders with bell-shaped cuffs and ruffles at the top hem, and a simple pair of black breeches. The black, leather lace-up boots from last night encased her calves over the fabric of the breeches, highlighting her toned legs. It had been a while since she wore an outfit like this, and it was easier to maneuver around, plus riding Arion more comfortably if she was up for it.
When they got to the stables, Iliana could sense and hear the chaos coming from inside.
"Pa has been getting the brunt end of a lecture when I went to go get you," Gilly explained. "I heard he pushed you to drink as much as possible."
"Aye. He did," Iliana said with a nod. "Luckily, your mother's stew kicked my headache and woke me up. Maybe once the men see me, they'll calm down, as will the horses."
The two of them approached the open door that led into the barn, Iliana pulling Gilly against the wall and out of sight. They looked at each other for a moment, and when Gilly nodded at her, Iliana took a deep breath as she hummed a tune and slowly stepped around the corner to enter the barn. The men didn't even notice her; they were so frustrated with their horses that they couldn't acknowledge her presence.
"In the woodlands low, born of ice and snow. There's a maiden weeping tonight. Snow falls softly 'neath the winter moon."
They all stopped and looked in her direction, her expression soft and loving as the horses stopped being fussy and trotted their way towards her. She smiled as they all stared at her in anticipation, and she petted them and gave each of them her affection.
"Forest bare and white, she dwells there by night. Listen to her cry sorrow's song. Tears fall softly 'neath the winter moon.
"Breathless, icy bright, daughter of the night. Oh, who do you cry for? Keening softly 'neath the winter moon."
She felt the eyes of the men on her, but she shrugged it off as she stayed focused on the horses.
"Traveler passing through, feet all bare, his smile was true. His eyes shone with starlight. He walked softly 'neath the winter moon."
When she began singing the next verse, her thoughts immediately turned to Tristan when she turned her attention to Siria.
"Love made my heart soar, you're the one I've waited for. Stay with me forever. She cried softly 'neath the winter moon.
"In the snow he stayed, from my side he did not stray, my hands could not warm him. He died softly 'neath the winter moon."
Siria gave her an affectionate nudge, and she couldn't help but smile at the gesture as she sang the final two verses.
"In the woodlands low, born of ice and snow. There's a maiden weeping tonight. Snow falls softly 'neath the winter moon.
"Breathless, icy bright, daughter of the night. Oh, who do you cry for? Keening softly 'neath the winter moon."
The horses whinnied in approval, including Arion, who was still in his stall watching everything that transpired, and the horses finally settled down.
"Much better, my friends. Now, will you stop giving the men so much grief? They have a mission to fulfill."
They all whinnied, which confirmed that they would behave like they're supposed to. Bors approached her and patted her shoulder.
"Am I happy to see you, little lassie. I thought for sure I'd never stop being lectured about how drunk I made you."
She chuckled as she reached to pat his hand in assurance.
"Luckily, Vanora's stew that I saw you eat on my first morning here saved me from one of the worst hangovers a girl could ever experience. Don't worry about it, Big Boar. Maybe next time, you guys won't be called on a mission."
"Thank you for showing up and taking care of that, Ili," Arthur said. "I thought we would never get out of here. Plus, now we know who has been singing and soothing both the horses and the townsfolk for the past month."
This revelation surprised Iliana. If Arthur's words were true, perhaps she should sing more often.
She gave each of the horses a little more affection, and when she got to Siria, the mare leaned down as she pressed her forehead against hers.
"I owe your master a thank you. He took care of me when I got too drunk last night. It's going to have to wait until you get him home safely," she said to her, and she let out a small snort in response. Once again, she felt Tristan's gaze studying her, and she could only wonder what he was thinking now as she kept her eyes and face away from him.
"What's this mission all about?" she asked.
"There's been sightings of Woads south of the Wall and they've been attacking the bordering Roman patrols stationed there," Arthur replied. "We're going to go have a look, and we should be back before nightfall."
Iliana nodded before she turned to look at each of the men, and she even glanced at Tristan from over her shoulder.
"Be safe. All of you."
"Auntie Ili!"
Gilly's voice snapped her out of her trance, and she turned to face the boy.
"Ma mentioned wanting to take us out to the field where the flowers grow. Do you want to join us?"
She smiled at him.
"Of course. This is also an excuse for me to take Arion out, too."
Her words made the great white stallion whinny in approval.
"Since you were so kind to invite me, Gilly, what say you to riding Arion bareback with me?"
End Notes: A little chivalry from the silent, distant scout as he tends to Iliana. I can't help but swoon over the thought. *giggles* The next chapter will be out sometime tomorrow! Check back! The song Iliana sings is credited to the song, "Winter Moon" by Erutan.