Fanfic ~ A Long Winters Night

Jan 13, 2008 10:08

I was inspired to write a fanfic while on break this winter. Below the cut is the result. I have always adored the Sarah McLachlan song "Song for a Winters Night" and while listening to it last December....well, this little ficlet seemed to materialize in my head. Most of you know I'm a huge King Arthur fan....so it is a KA fic. *laughs* And please be gentle with me....as I am a novice fic writer.


Title: A Long Winters Night
Warnings: None/rated G for everyone
Characters/Pairings: Cara (OC) and Arthur/no pairings
Author's Notes: I don’t own Arthur despite of how much I dream of it. Just a romantic, angsty drabble for my own pleasure and inspired by the Sarah McLachlan song “Song for a Winters Night”. Thank you to 
sasha_b  for being my beta on this. *hugs* Feedback is Love.

*     *     *     *

If I could only have you near to breathe a sigh or two,
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love on this winters night with you.

The fire in the hearth was fading; the lamplight was growing dim while she read the letter in her hands again.

…..held the outpost at Aesica although suffered numerous injuries among the men. We shall be on the road presently and arrive home in a fortnight……

The dispatch had arrived three weeks previous and not another since. The letter also contained mention of low supplies and concerns over the harsh conditions at Aesica. But the familiar scrawl made no mention of the author’s well being; an annoying habit of his in every bit of correspondence sent back to Camboglanna. But this time, the fact that they…he…should have returned several days ago had the woman beside herself with worry. He was always on schedule and punctual to a fault. Not this time. She had continually poured over the letter seeking some hidden message in between the lines….some sort of further explanation or a personal sentiment….but none ever materialized.

At long last, she carefully placed the scroll back on the tabletop and turned her gaze to the orange cinders in the hearth where a gathering of tiny flames still rose above the timbers. They cast eerie shadows on the wall as they danced in their attempt to keep warmth in the room for a little while longer.

This long winter’s night, as in every night preceding, the furs covering the expansive bed had been drawn down at the waiting. A clean pitcher of water anticipated its owner on the washstand. A fresh brew of warm spiced wine had slowly chilled in its container on the table, accompanied by yet another full meal gone cold.

“I would give my mother’s love for him to walk through those doors at this very moment,” Cara half whispered as she lifted her gaze to the heavy wooden doors at the far end of the room. She sat at the end of the long table with an empty mug her only company while she had held vigil for his safe return yet again through the night. She unconsciously chewed on the fingertips of her left hand while studying the grain patterns in the broad panels of the doors. Fatigue drew tiny dark circles beneath her crystal blue eyes and her heavy lids threatened to shutter closed.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *

All of the knights had wives, lovers, children and various mistresses awaiting their return. All of them had ‘someone’ to come home to…..save him. Odd that no one waited for him. How was it that all these years he’d remained alone, isolated and without companionship? He was noble, fearless and faithful. He was the best of them despite his humble demeanor. Perhaps deep down inside he knew his fate, knew that there was no place in his world for gentler things…the kindness of a woman’s heart…nothing in him to merit the gift of adoration by another. He had taken too many lives in the name of duty and Rome to deserve something so precious as love.

It was nearly dawn when Arthur and his knights rode through the main gates at Camboglanna; exhausted, chilled to the bone and hungry for quieter days. The mission to Aesica had taken weeks longer than it should have, but their orders were at last fulfilled. Arthur was the last to leave the stables, seeing to each man before finally slinging his saddlebags over one shoulder and crossing the courtyard to the building containing his private quarters. As he walked, the crisp cold air stung at his cheeks and the snow covered flagstones made a crunching sound beneath his hobnailed boots.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *

At last Cara resolved to return to her own tiny room to briefly freshen herself up before starting another day’s work. Another day of waiting.  With luck, at least a dispatch would arrive with some hint of news. She stood up from the wooden chair that she had occupied for hours and yawned; her back protesting the sudden movement after having remained curled on the unforgiving piece of furniture for so long. And then the door suddenly opened - Cara nearly gasped in surprise and relief. Both of her hands immediately grasped at the folds in her linen dress in a quick desperate attempt to straighten her appearance for him.

Without preamble, Arthur pushed open the door to his quarters and immediately placed his saddlebags next to the tall chest to his left before he actually noticed that he was not alone. A slow smile graced his weary expression as emerald eyes fell upon the familiar face of Cara, the woman charged with tending his personal quarters.

“Arthur,” Cara somewhat stammered his name and slightly bowed her head out of respect and sudden embarrassment at being found alone and presumably waiting for him. But when she finally allowed herself to meet his gaze, the woman could not suppress a genuine smile for the man she had come to practically worship. Cara’s brow then creased as she took in his weathered appearance…..but breathed a sigh of relief in seeing no signs of serious injuries.

“Cara,” Emerald eyes softened for a moment while Arthur’s gaze lingered on the gentle features of the woman’s face. He then briefly surveyed the room and noted the plate of food on the table and the fading fire in the hearth. The poor woman must have been attempting to keep up his quarters in anticipation of the Commander’s return. Arthur slightly shook his head not quite understanding why Cara went to such lengths on his behalf. No one should. Out of habit he began to remove his protective armor, vambraces first and then moved on to the ties of his breastplate.

“You…you must be exhausted…” Cara began while closing the distance between them and reaching out to help Arthur with the clasps on his armor. “….allow me to help with that,” She said while making quick work of the binds along the side of Arthur’s breastplate. He smelled of dust and leather and horses which made her wrinkle her nose while she began her work. The Commander, too fatigued to argue, allowed Cara to take over the chore. Besides, her tiny fingers were much more suited to the task than his thick, sword calloused digits.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *

It had been nearly four years since Commander Castus and his men had rescued Cara and her younger sister from the desolate remains of their small village. A terrible summer storm had taken the lives of nearly every villager, including Cara’s elderly parents. Arthur had personally carried her back to Camboglanna that day and given her another chance at life among the commoners at the outpost. Cara had been frightened at first, expecting the Roman Commander to force her and her sister into slavery -or worse- in return for taking them in. But she soon learned that ‘this’ Roman officer was different.

Cara had been a witness to the callousness of the mighty Roman army several times while carving out a life for herself and her family near the great Wall. She had also fallen victim to the army’s ruthlessness as a young girl. Cara still carried the scars across her chest and throat; a painful reminder from the night she had refused to be bedded by a Roman soldier from a nearby fortress. The whip had made unsightly slash marks on her fair skin, unfortunately leaving the young Cara undesirable to any possible suitors that could have secured her future.

Until Arthur, no Roman had ever shown the compassion that he and his knights had the day they rode in aid to her village. And he had not asked ‘anything’ in return while offering shelter and a chance to earn wages working at the outpost. Cara had never forgotten Arthur’s empathetic reaction to the numerous long scars on her throat; he had offered the services of his medicus and had treated Cara respectfully and without pity. The first man to do so ever in her life…thus earning her respect in return that day.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *

“If you are hungry I can fetch a fresh plate of food,” Cara offered while moving on to unlace the straps along Arthur’s side that secured his metal cuirass to his torso. The Commander obliged by lifting his arms to give Cara better access to the task. She wanted to ask what had kept him; she wanted to inquire about his health and she longed to tell him just how much she’d missed him these long weeks he and the knights had been away. But she knew she’d sound like just another silly ‘female’ should she give voice to such emotions. At least Arthur was home again, and for all that Cara could see….unharmed. She would worm the details out of Jols later.

“All that I require is drink and a long sleep,” Arthur answered with a yawn that nearly split his face. “Thank you, Cara,” He added as Cara began to lift Arthur’s armor away from his chest. With the two of them working together, Arthur was quickly freed of his armor and he rolled his shoulders while Cara placed the cuirass on the dressing stand.

“I will prepare your wash bowl then,” Cara said as she turned back to face her Commander, foreseeing that he’d wish to clean up before climbing into the awaiting bed. Arthur was scratching at the thin tunic he wore underneath his armor as if he could not bear to wear it a moment longer. Cara stepped around Arthur and lifted the back of the material from where it had been tucked into his black leather riding trousers; helping the Commander to remove it. Her fingertips lightly brushed against the bare skin at his lower back; the contact immediately causing a flutter in her belly. Also standing within such close proximity of Arthur, his scent enveloped her…a strong mix of musk and leather and masculine that she knew only as ‘Arthur’.

Cara fumbled with the material as she lifted the ends of the tunic up and over Arthur’s head. She silently prayed to the gods that her Commander had not noticed her nervousness as she accepted the shirt from his hand and deposited it into the soiled linens basket next to the dressing stand. I am behaving like a silly little girl…I am nothing more than his servant. Cara reminded herself of her place and straightened her posture when turning to face Arthur once more. But the sight of him standing before her bare-chested with brilliant emerald eyes focused on only her….made Cara’s knees weaken with the power of his magnetism. Foolish girl.

“Yes, thank you,” Arthur answered before crossing to a tall chest against the wall and using the furniture to brace himself while toeing off his boots; seemingly oblivious to the affect he had on Cara.

For a moment, Cara had forgotten what she had just suggested. Oh yes, wash bowl, you foolish girl. She slightly shook her head at her own blushing behavior and went immediately to the wash stand to prepare the bowl for Arthur. She retrieved his shaving tools and a clean cloth and then lifted the large pitcher of fresh water from the floor to fill the wash basin on the stand.

Arthur was almost an enigma to Cara. The man was stunningly attractive, polite to a fault and the hardest working Roman she had ever seen. He showed genuine compassion without expectations and constantly displayed total selflessness in regards to all matters towards anyone he encountered. Yet, Arthur appeared to be a solitary soul despite almost every person in the fortress clamoring for his attention. And somewhere over the years, Cara’s admiration and appreciation for Arthur had grown into something much deeper. But she knew he’d never look upon her as anything more than a willing laborer in his service….and how could she expect more from someone of his standing and stature? Cara was well beyond the marrying age at twenty and seven summers, she was horridly disfigured and not of noble blood. Besides, she had no doubt that Arthur would marry well once his service to Rome was fulfilled. And live out the remainder of his days in some regal villa with a stunning wife and beautiful children. Cara had no place in that world.

She completed the task of filling the wash bowl and bent to place the empty pitcher on the floor. Turning rather quickly, Cara nearly collided with Arthur who had stepped up behind her eager to make immediate use of the prepared wash stand.

“Pardon me,” Cara managed in a voice barely audible as her eyes avoided looking up to meet Arthur’s emerald gaze. But due to his towering height, she now found herself staring directly at his bare chest. And the distinct lines in his throat seemed to draw her eyes upwards towards his stubbled chin and full mouth. She blinked in an attempt to break the spell and stepped aside to clear the path for the Commander. But her legs wobbled and she visibly stumbled for a brief moment before regaining her senses. Arthur must have assumed Cara tripped and reached out a hand to steady the woman. Yet Arthur’s fingers grasping, albeit gently, on her upper arm only brought a flush to her cheeks. Still, Cara reached over and placed her small hand on top of his either in an attempt to reassure Arthur that she was fine…..or a small glimpse of her hearts true will….

“I….I am just tired,” Cara explained with a weak smile. A plausible explanation as she was  exhausted beyond comprehension from having waited up all night…again….for Arthur’s safe return. He smiled down at her and Cara felt another strong flutter deep in her belly. And why had he not removed his hand from her arm? Did the man truly aim to torture her so?

“I will be on my way….unless there is anything else that I may do for you?” Cara asked working hard at keeping her voice steady and neutral.

“No, thank you, Cara,” Arthur’s hand slid from Cara’s arm and the contact was broken.

“You look exhausted. I would have you find rest now,” Arthur continued in a slightly stern tone with his head cocked somewhat to the side, indicating that it was an order and not a suggestion. He then offered a smile that Cara would have liked to believe expressed true affection for her. But she quickly reminded herself that it was a daft notion, although she readily returned the smile before turning away from the Commander and exiting his quarters.

Cara had no memory of her short walk across the compound to reach the tiny room she shared with her sister in the servants’ quarters. She did not feel the cold winter air or notice how the fresh snow crunched beneath her shoes with each step. But after hearing the latch click shut behind her once she’d reached her destination, she released a deep breath and slumped back against the hard wooden door and squeezed her eyes shut thanking the gods for his return this day. As Cara brought a hand up to languidly brush over her face, his scent once more filled her nostrils from where she had touched him. For a moment, she held the palm of her hand over her mouth and simply inhaled the essence of ‘him’.

“I would be happy just to hold the hands that I love……” She softly murmured to herself before curling up on the small mattress in the corner….and drifting off into a contented slumber.  “….and you'll be once again with me.”

~End.
 

writing, king arthur, fanfic, 2008

Previous post Next post
Up