Author's Notes: Here's Chapter Nine! Enjoy!
Chapter IX
Tristan felt his fingertips tingle as he watched Iliana leave to check on the rest of the men. A part of him felt bereft at her departure, but considering how she was a sister figure to Gawain and Galahad, he didn't want to keep her away from them at the same time.
However, he couldn't help feeling the desire to touch her again. Her skin was so soft against his calloused touch when he caressed her cheek and wiped her tears away. The way she leaned into his palm, combined with the look in her eyes, made him want to pull her into his arms and hold her close. He could get lost in her eyes fairly easily; it was like getting lost in the sight of the bright, blue sky up above.
"She's really gotten into your head, hasn't she?"
Dagonet's question snapped him out of his daze, and he turned to gaze at the silent, stoic healer he called his brother, who had a smile forming on the corner of his lips. There was no point in hiding it; he knew from the start of Tristan's attraction to the girl, and how his developing feelings for her were only getting stronger with time.
He didn't say a word, but he didn't have to, for Dagonet got the confirmation from his silence and the look he caught in his eyes.
"Why don't you let her know instead of dancing in circles around her on the topic? How is she going to understand why you're acting the way you do if you don't tell her?"
There was another moment of silence before Tristan ultimately spoke up.
"I still have yet to fully understand the darkness that's clouding her heart."
"Is that right?" Dagonet asked.
"When I watched over her last night, she muttered in her sleep about how she killed her mother and father," Tristan explained. "Even though neither of their deaths is her fault, she holds herself accountable for them."
"Basically, she thinks she doesn't deserve the life they gave her since it was at the expense of their own," Dagonet stated. "She views herself as a cursed being for what happened to them."
His words stunned the scout, making his heart skip a few beats. How could this girl see herself as a curse when he saw her as the most beautiful person he ever laid eyes on?
"She needs someone to help her shine again the same way she shined when Leoric was still alive," Dagonet explained. "Perhaps you're the ray of light that can break through that darkness, Tristan. I can already tell that she's become your light because of how you've been with her.
"If anything, Leoric probably wanted her to come here to ensure that she didn't surround herself in the darkness that he found himself comfortable in during his time as a knight. Honestly, if he hadn't met her mother, he probably would have been dead already."
The thought of Iliana dead made Tristan's blood boil. The inability to gaze into her bright blue eyes felt like more than he could handle. If anything happened to her, his heart might as well stop beating at that point.
"The only thing I want is for her to let me in and open up to me," he explained. "I want her to be comfortable enough in my presence that she can let her guard down."
"And the only way she will be comfortable is if you stop being so distant and approach her directly," Dagonet stated. "Sometimes, to get what you want, step out of your comfort zone and brave the unknown."
The room fell silent, but the healer knew Tristan understood what he was saying.
"At the very least, lie down and get some rest. You can worry about her when you've regained your strength," he announced.
As he did what he was told, his mind wandered to a pair of sad, blue eyes watery with tears.
Iliana made her way to the stables after checking on the rest of the men. Gawain and Galahad double teamed her with their bear hugs, and Bors wasted no time ruffling her hair as he gave her a hug of his own. Lancelot was still as flirtatious as ever, but she gave him the benefit of the doubt with a hug from behind to ensure he didn't pull her into his lap. She thanked her father that he had answered her prayer and they were all mostly fine, except for some minor cuts and bruises.
The only thing left was for Tristan to rest and recover while he healed from his injury.
When she got to the stables, a bit of a chaotic scene greeted her. Jols and the keeps were attempting to tend to the horses, but they were antsy and refusing to calm down. Siria was whinnying and feeling restless in her stall, and Arion was attempting to calm her down while also trying to keep himself calm. She didn't hesitate to approach the dappled grey mare and stroke her neck, hoping it would provide her some relief.
"Hi there, gorgeous. I know you all had it rough out there, but you're okay. You're safe now."
The sound of her voice was enough to calm the mare down, and Iliana rested her forehead against hers. Arion nudged Iliana's cheek with his nose, and she nuzzled against him in response.
"I haven't forgotten you, love. You needed a little help in calming her down."
"Ili! Good to see you!"
Jols's greeting made her look up and pull away from the horses.
"Greetings to you too, Jols," she said with a smile. "You seem to have your hands full at this very moment."
"I've dealt with much worse than this. How fares the men?"
"Tristan sustained the worst of it with a slash across his abdomen, but it wasn't life threatening," she replied. "The rest of the men only had minor cuts and bruises."
The squire breathed out a sigh of relief.
"Those damn Woads…" he muttered with a shake of his head, and Iliana placed a hand on his forearm.
"While I'm not for the Woads and their rebellious actions that have caused a lot of pain and suffering over the years, I also understand where they're coming from," she explained. "They just want to live free in their own country. Being Sarmatian and Greek, two races that Rome conquered and are using for their own personal gain, I know how the Woads feel. It's what my fellow kinsmen from both sides of my family have been feeling for so many generations."
After a beat of silence, Jols nodded and patted her hand.
"You really are something, Ili. I really believe your father brought you here for a reason."
She gave a small, sheepish smile.
"I still have yet to figure that out, but I'm sure I will in due time."
"While you do that, think you can help me again with the horses?"
Her smile widened slightly.
"Just tell me what I have to do."
After spending two hours helping Jols and the keeps with the horses, Iliana made her way to the graveyard. The sun was setting behind the horizon, but it was still bright enough that she could be out without worrying about the darkness and what lurked behind it.
When she arrived at the graveyard, she made her way around the full perimeter and offered her prayers at each grave. She recognized several of them from both the Roxolani and Hamaxobii tribe, and she wondered what must have been going through the minds of both her father and Andres with every fallen brother they laid to rest.
It must have not been easy, especially when you have no choice but to move forward knowing that YOU could be next to fall in combat. The life of a knight fighting for a cause not of their own.
She paused when she came across a grave that did not have a sword, and she sat down in front of it when she saw she had a pleasant view of the sunset from that spot.
"I wonder whose grave this is," she mulled out loud.
"It is my father's."
She jumped slightly at the voice that spoke up from behind her, and when she looked over her shoulder, she saw it was Arthur.
"Apologies, my lady. I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay. I wasn't expecting anyone else to be here."
He gave her a small smile.
"Mind if I join you?"
"Make yourself comfortable, my lord," she replied.
He nodded and sat down next to her.
"So, this is the resting place of the man who commanded my father and his fellow brothers-in-arms," she stated.
"My father told me if ever died on this island, he wanted to be buried with his knights," Arthur explained.
Iliana nodded.
"Was it in combat?"
"Aye," he replied with a nod.
Now it makes sense. Excalibur belonged to his father. Now it belongs to him, she thought.
"What about your mother?"
There was a moment of silence as he looked down at the ground, his jaw clenching for a moment before he spoke up.
"Merlin and his men killed her when I was still a child."
His mother's British blood provoked Iliana's shock, even though she didn't express it. It made little sense why they would kill one of their own, especially considering how fiercely loyal the Woads were to each other.
"I'm sorry to hear about that. Tell me, do you seek revenge against Merlin for her death?"
"To an extent, aye," he replied with a nod, looking up at her.
After a moment of silence, Iliana spoke up.
"Can I give my two cents on the matter? Be warned that you may not like what you hear, but I want you to hear it."
The look in her eyes combined with her serious tone made Arthur realize how serious she was, and with a gulp, he nodded.
"Anger and the lust for vengeance will eat you up alive from the inside, and just as it will consume you, it will also destroy you," she announced. "I have this feeling deep in my gut that there's more to the story of your mother's death than from what you remember. Just like how there's two sides to a coin, there's two sides to a story. If you really wanted the Woads annihilated, you wouldn't have spared as many as you had. There's definitely more to you than meets the eye, and I don't think you know it yet."
The commander was stunned silent, but before he could say anything, she continued speaking.
"I advise you to keep an open mind as opposed to a one-track one from here on out, Arthur. When you open your mind, the world opens up to you. You are a good man, and I can say that because of the man my father ultimately became at the very end."
After another moment of silence, Arthur nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.
"I know your father is not the monster that the stories make him out to be. If he truly was, you wouldn't be here right now, and my men and I wouldn't have had the chance to meet you. You have no reason to feel hesitant because of what other people have thought of him, Ili. So, if you ever need anything, don't be afraid to come to me, the men, or Vanora."
He spoke those words as if he sensed her fear. Knowing that he would have no reason to lie to her, Iliana nodded.
"Can I ask something of you?" he asked.
"Of course," Iliana replied.
"I encourage you to talk to Tristan," he announced, catching her by surprise, to which he didn't miss by her taken aback expression that formed on her face.
"Allow me to explain," he said before she had the chance to speak. "Since your arrival here, Tristan has been watching over you to ensure your safety. You may not see it because of the way he is, but he cares about you. He just doesn't know how to approach you without frightening you, considering his presence alone strikes fear amongst most of the townsfolk.
"He intimidated you when the two of you first met, and it took you a moment before you relaxed in his presence. He didn't want to make you feel that way again, and he did the one thing he could do: keep his distance and watch you from afar."
This revelation surprised her; she hadn't really thought of her first meeting with Tristan, having brushed it off after arriving at the Wall, but she didn't think the way she reacted bothered him as much as it did. Then again, he was a man with the ability to mask his emotions, and despite him being difficult to decipher, she had a feeling that there was more to the man that hid behind his wild bangs and braids.
"Arthur, I'm not fearful of Tristan. I just don't know how to approach him without giving him the wrong impression," she explained. "However, from the times I've observed him, I see a man with only his silence and distant nature for company, wrapped around the finger of the loneliness and darkness he knows too well."
Her words surprised Arthur, and the look on his face asked of how she figured it out.
"Besides my father, I had another tutor in one of his fellow knights. He's of the Hamaxobii tribe, which is the same tribe Tristan is from, and he taught me how to scout and observe."
"Who is he?" Arthur asked.
"His name is Andres."
She smiled at his shocked reaction.
"My father told me he's a skilled scout. You learned from the best, Ili."
Her smile widened slightly.
"Is he still alive?"
"He is," she replied. "Before I left Sarmatia, he was preparing to travel. I'm betting he's on the road to his destination or he's already there doing what he has to do."
As she wondered where Andres was at now, one of the traveling messengers arrived, interrupting the moment.
"Excuse me? Lady Iliana?"
"Yes, sir?" she replied.
"This letter arrived for you from the coast of Ireland. It's from an Andres of Sarmatia."
She barely contained a gasp as she took the letter from him, and with a nod, the messenger left.
"So, he made it to Ireland. Thank God," she said, breathing out a sigh of relief.
"Read the letter. I'm curious to know what he's been up to," Arthur said with encouragement.
With a nod, Iliana tore into the envelope and pulled out a piece of folded parchment. Unfolding it, she read it out loud.
My dearest Iliana,
I'm assuming you and Arion made it to Hadrian's Wall safely and fulfilled your father's last wish if you're reading this letter. For that, I am very grateful you did, and that means you're finally in safe hands with the now grown up Arthur. I'm currently in southern Ireland helping tend to some Greek villagers that have fled from the invading Saxons. They are on the move up north and have claimed many of the Greek settlements there, destroying and killing everything not of their own. As I prepare to have these survivors escorted within the next few weeks, I hope the Saxons do not intend to come to Britain soon.
However, I have picked up rumors of them planning to come to Britain during my travels. Unfortunately, I have no solid evidence to back up this information. All I can really do is hope it's just hearsay and nothing more.
I hope to be in Britain soon, and I hope to see you and Arthur. I still remember the skinny boy struggling to keep up with his own father during our servitude. I miss you, my little pupil, and I hope you're doing well in your new life at the Wall.
-Andres
"Damn, Andres. What the hell have you been getting yourself into?" Iliana asked as she looked over the letter again, feeling her heart stop at the mention of the Saxons.
"I have heard of the Saxons, and they are definitely not to be taken lightly," Arthur said. "At the very least, we can breathe, knowing they're far from Britain just yet.
"I'm surprised that he remembers me after all this time."
"Wait until he sees that you're no longer the little boy he remembers," she said with a giggle that made Arthur chuckle and smile slightly.
"I really hope that's soon. I would like to see at least one of my father's men again in this lifetime," Arthur mused.
"You will," Iliana said with assurance. "As old as he is now, Andres isn't the type of man to slow down. Speaking of which, I might as well pen a letter of my own to him so that he's up to date on what's been going on with me. I'll let him know you said hello."
"Thank you, Ili," Arthur said. "Hopefully, he gets here before they officially discharge the men. Will we see you at the tavern later?"
"Of course," Iliana replied. "I'll see you then, Arthur."
Iliana breathed out a sigh of relief when she finally put the quill down. It had taken some time, but she finally finished writing her letter to Andres. She had relieved the burden by writing about it to the one person who understood her best. As she waited for the ink to dry, she allowed herself to re-read what she wrote to him.
Andres,
I'm thrilled to have heard from you. I had been wondering for this past month whether you made it to Ireland safely, and I'm relieved to know that you did.
I've been enjoying my life at Hadrian's Wall so far. Arthur and his remaining knights have all been wonderful to me, and I work as a barmaid under Vanora, who is the lover of one knight, Bors, and the mother of his eleven children. I also help Arthur's squire, Jols occasionally with the knights' horses and Arion. They've grown to admire him in such a short period, and there's one mare amongst them that adores him. She's a beautiful, dapple grey mare by the name of Siria, and she belongs to Tristan, the Hamaxobii scout of the knights.
Out of all the remaining knights, Tristan was the one to capture my attention. Quiet and distant, but also observant and very perceptive. He's also very handsome in that dangerous sense that I know coming from the Hamaxobii tribe. He's been on my mind a lot lately, and I'm not sure of the reason. I've barely known him for a month now, but I can't describe what he makes me feel. I only wish that you were here to give me some advice since you always know just what to say, but it seems it will have to wait until I hear from you. I miss you, and I hope to see you soon. Arthur says hello, and he's looking forward to seeing you again.
-Iliana
By the time she finished reading the letter over, the ink had dried, and she sealed it and wrote Andres's name in front of the envelope. She found the messenger from earlier, and he was happy to make the trip back to Ireland. As thanks for his generosity, she tipped him a little extra coin before he went on his way.
Based on the orange hue of the twilight sky, Iliana saw that she still had some time before she had to be at the tavern for work, and she headed to the infirmary to check up on Tristan. She stopped by the market along the way and picked up a small basket of apples, courtesy of the gracious lady that ran the stand.
When she walked in, she saw Dagonet was still around, putting away some supplies and herbs. However, it was fairly quiet compared to when she was here a few hours prior. When Dagonet looked up and saw her, he smiled.
"Ah, Ili. Coming to visit before you head off to work?"
"Aye," she replied with a nod. "Judging by how quiet it's gotten, I assumed you cleared the men except for Tristan?"
"Aye, my lady. They were on their way to the tavern once I gave them the okay."
Iliana chuckled.
"Of course. How has Tristan been since I left?"
"He's doing well. Your healing abilities have done him a lot of good. He could recover in as little as a couple of days, thanks to you."
Her eyes widened slightly; she didn't realize her healing ability was as effective as it was.
"Come. Let me take you to him."
She followed behind him to the room where Tristan was at, and after Dagonet poked his head in to let him know she was here, he stepped away to give them some privacy. Before he left, he placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm not sure what's holding you back, but I have a hunch your father wanted you to come here not only to meet us knights but also to shine a little light into the darkness surrounding Tristan's heart," he spoke in a gentle tone. "In the fifteen years we have been comrades, none of us have ever seen him be so protective of a woman. When he really wants something, he usually takes it, and that has included release from the wenches that frequent the tavern."
She felt her heart clench at the mention of the wenches. While she acknowledged Tristan was a man and had other women before she came along, she couldn't help but cringe at the fact that he found comfort in women that she believed weren't worth a second of his time. A man like him deserved better than that, but was she really the woman to give him that when she wasn't so sure of herself?
"As impossible as the man can be to read, there's no doubt in my mind that he wants you," Dagonet continued. "The only reason he hasn't made his move yet is because there's still something about you he wants to understand."
Iliana tilted her head to the side.
"If you want to know, you'll have to ask him."
With a smile and a pat on her shoulder, the healer left, and Iliana felt her pulse quicken and her thoughts race as she approached the cracked door. Tristan probably deciphered much about her, and she deciphered information of her own about him, but what all had he discovered that she hadn't spoken of?
One thing was for sure: she was going to find out as she pushed the door open and made her appearance known.
Tristan looked up when he heard the door creak, and he saw Iliana walk in. With the rest of the men having left for the tavern, it was just the two of them. He took a moment to study her floor length, long-sleeved, crimson red dress that hung off her shoulders. It almost looked like fresh blood had morphed into a dress that was snug into her slender figure, and he couldn't help but internally acknowledge that he liked it a lot. Her hair was down yet again, split down the middle and flung over both her bare shoulders.
When he looked up, Iliana had a surprised look on her face and her cheeks flushed a slight shade of pink. It was then that he remembered he had taken his shirt off per Dagonet's orders when he wanted to check on her treatment of his wound, and he didn't bother putting it back on. Thinking back to her treatment, Tristan came to realize that she had a caring and gentle touch. She was careful as she cleaned the wound and applied the salve, and whenever he felt a stinging sensation, she would pause and wait for him to relax before resuming where she left off. Dagonet taught her well, but he had a feeling that she learned from another before she came to Britain.
He looked back up at her as she regained her composure, but her cheeks were still flushed as she approached him and sat down on the edge of the bed. He watched as she set the basket she held down on the side table and pulled out two apples from it.
"I thought of you when I went to pick these up," she explained. "I was just going to get a couple of them, but the lady that ran the stand insisted I take a basket. I'll leave it with you as you recover."
He nodded his thanks as she handed him one apple, and when he couldn't find his knife, she lifted the skirt of her dress up to her calves and pulled her knife that was strapped to her sandal. She flipped it in the air, the blade landing in her palm, and she handed it from the handle's end to him.
"Thanks," he muttered before taking it and beginning to cut into his apple.
"I'll need it back before I go to work. I may have you and the men watching me, but I never know what's lurking in the shadows when you all are not looking."
He chuckled; he knew what she meant, for he had caught drunk men in the past preying on women after catching them by surprise from the darkness. The thought of one of them attempting to assault her made his blood boil, and whoever had the guts to do so would reap the penalty of his wrath.
He caught her stealing a glance at his bandaged torso, and when she saw he was watching her, she looked away as she ate her apple. Strands of her hair fell in front of her cheek, covering her face, and after setting her knife down on his lap, he reached out with his free hand to push them behind her ear. He felt her tremble beneath his touch, but it wasn't out of fear. It was out of longing, and probably feeling embarrassed at being caught, Iliana tried to look away.
"Don't look away from me, Ili. I want to see your eyes."
He used the gentle tone that he reserved for Siria and Talia, and following a deep breath, she turned to look at him. Two of his fingertips stroked her cheek and moved down to her jawline, his eyes never leaving hers as he found himself lost in a sea that was a pretty, bright blue color.
The silence between them dragged on, save for them chewing on their apples, and he finally broke the ice.
"Why do you believe you're responsible for the deaths of your parents?"
He saw her eyes widen slightly, which is what he expected. He knew she wanted to run, but he kept her in place with his eyes.
"The night that you passed out drunk, I heard you mutter about it in your sleep when I watched you," he explained. "You can't blame yourself for what was out of your control."
She scoffed.
"You don't know me well enough to make that judgment, Tristan."
He didn't miss the trembling in her body language and the defensive tone in her voice, confirming that he hit his mark.
"There's no point in denying it, Ili. I know more about you than you think. The smile you present never reaches your eyes, and while it may fool the children, it doesn't fool me.
"Not to mention you hide behind the walls that you've put up around your heart."
Her silence confirmed it for him.
"Do you know what I see?" she began. "I see a man drowning in his own loneliness and darkness that's plagued him his whole fifteen years of being under Rome's thumb, and possibly even longer. I know what I'm talking about, having seen it in my father's eyes when I was growing up."
Now it was his turn to be silent; just as he deciphered much about her, she had come to her own discoveries about him.
"Silence is the loudest message one can send. If you've heard mine, I've heard yours in the moments you've been around me," she explained. "Look, if I gave you the wrong impression when we first met, I wasn't trying to. Like I told Arthur, I didn't know how to approach you without giving off the wrong message. I want you to know and understand that I'm not fearful of you.
"However, I have an understanding that there is more to you than meets the eye and whose silent message I've heard."
His fingers descended to her neck, stroking her pulse, which he felt racing beneath his touch. He watched as she bit her bottom lip, and his heart pounded in response.
"Are you willing to brave the unknown, Ili?" he asked.
"As the daughter of the most feared Sarmatian warrior Rome has ever come to know, braving the unknown is all I've ever done," Iliana replied. "Yet, this frightens me the most, because I don't really know what to do or expect."
She gestured between the two of them with her finger.
"I would rather see you try to brave the unknown and find the happiness your father wanted you to have," he assured her gently, handing her back her knife. "He would not want you to feel guilty for what he knew wasn't your fault. You've been his ray of light that cut through his darkness since your birth, and you still are, even though he's passed."
She didn't speak, but the look in her eyes spoke the message loud and clear. However, he didn't miss the hint of sadness lurking behind them as she took her knife and slipped it back on her sandal.
"The main issue I have is that I feel I'm not worthy of a noble knight like yourself. You deserve better than a cursed girl like me."
Before he could say another word, she pulled herself away and was out of the room, leaving the scout in a surprised, speechless state as he watched her go.
End Notes: And there's a little tension in the making! That's it for this week. Check back next week for two new chapters, maybe three if you guys would like three chapters. Let me know!