May I call you PRETTY RECKLESS?(Lancelot)

[evelyn]

The forest was empty that day, silent besides the noises of the wild. With the sun high in the sky, beating down on the ground below, the air was humid; filled with the sticky feeling that accompanied it. Most in the village near by were staying inside, keeping to the shade to find some relief from the heat. But to a wanderer, such luxuries were hard to come by. So naturally, the shade of the forest and the cool of the lake were the next best thing. This being the case, the young gypsy girl has picked here to spend her short time.

Clutching the ends of her green dress in one hand, she wades into the water slowly, her bare feet feeling the soft earth beneath the lake. She shivered, letting out a small laugh as the fish swam around her feet and ankles. She continued to wade in, letting her dress float upon the water's surface. The water was delightfully cool and so clear, she could see everything below her. A sharp whinny made her turn her head, a smile coming to life on her rose-colored lips.

"Hush now, Marianne. Just because you don't like lakes doesn't mean I'm going to stay out of them," she called back. Her chestnut mare just snorted, tossing her regal head before laying down in the cool shade beside her companion, a black stallion by the name of Alister who was currently sleeping. The young girl just grinned and turned, wading even further into the water so that it came up to her waist. While she would normally bath nude, she wasn't so sure who would be in these words and on a bright sunny day, it would be hard not to spot her. I'll just have to wait until tonight to properly bath. She reached up, removing the green ribbon from her hair. All at once the curls of brown that had been piled into a bun atop her head only moments before came cascading down in a waterfall of shining locks.

"That's better..." she murmured quickly before taking a deep breath and diving under the water. The cold rushed against her, making her body shiver quite bad for a second as she opened her eyes. With fogging vision, she propelled herself foreword in the water, her delicate feet kicking lightly. She loved to swim, to see another world so close that she could reach out and touch it. Fish swam out of her way, fearing the strange new creature that had invaded their home. She smiled under the water before moving up wards, finally breaking the surface with a small gasp. The young girl was well in the middle of the lake now, using her legs and arms to keep herself above water.

[Deleted]

Lancelot had decided to go on one of his explorations in the forest. He had just run into Gwen in the market area of the main square of Camelot. Many of his old feelings had been re-kindled, and he was wondering whether he should even think about spending any more time in Camelot, or even the surrounding territories and villages. He had to admit that he felt the most comfortable out in the open areas and in the forests. Staying within the walls of Camelot, or any other city, just felt too confining to him. Fortunately, he traveled light, so if he decided to move on it would be an easy decision to act on.

Much of this area, of course, from his previous visits was quite familiar to him. He had already crossed several streams, each of which, his black Arabian stallion, Sher-Fore, had taken the opportunity to take a long drink, and to munch on some grass. At each of these places, his horse's actions had given him the chance to ponder what he, Lancelot, should be doing. Shortly he had progressed through a good distance of forest, and came to the edge of a goodly lake.

He thought, at first, that it was likely that he would be the only at the edge of this body of water. However, after a few moments, he heard a horse's whinny, and he he knew that it was not his own. Within moments, though, he heard a decidedly female human's voice respond to the horse's reaction. He smiled at the words he heard, and his lips curled into the slightest of smiles. "I'm afraid that you'll find that horses have a decided independent streak and attitude, especially when they feel that we haven't done enough. So I wouldn't necessarily expect her to be that agreeable. I may be wrong, but past experience would seem to bear that view out." He saw her trudge out into the deeper waters and saw her remove the ribbon from her hair, and the cascade of hair that descended about her shoulders.

Lancelot remained unsure whether she had paid any attention to him anyway. She seemed to be entirely consumed with her experience in the clean, but cold water of this inland lake she had found. As far as he could tell, despite having clothing on that would naturally restrict her movements, she appeared to swim quite well he thought. If she had not heard his comments, he thought, her general direction as moving her rapidly toward him, and she would soon discover his presence. He wondered exactly how she would react and what she would say. He didn't figure his uncertainty would last long .... probably a few moments at best. "Mademoiselle,I hope I am not startling you ..... I mean you no harm."

[evelyn]

Upon surfacing from the cool water, a distinctly male voice reached the young woman's ears. She turned, surprised to find a rather handsome man with his horse, not far from where she had just come up. He had dark brown hair with a small curl to it, something very unlike the gypsy boys she had known with their wildly long hair. He seemed very clean cut, at least from distance it appeared so. And he was dressed as a night, but from where, she did not know. She treaded water for a few moment more, studying him silently before calling back.

"Only for a moment was I startled, dear sir." With that, she went back under the water, swimming closer toward the man until she could stand with ease. Slowly, she made her way out of the water, like a nymph rising from the surface. Yes, he was as clean cut and handsome as he had first appeared, though his features were more clear now. her dark eyes latched with his, both equally intense it seems. A smile graced her lips as she came fully out of the water.

"My name is Evelyn. May I trouble you for a name, sir knight?" she requested, watching him carefully. He may have said he meant her no harm, but she was always wary with travelers. Not many were as they seemed. She walked further out onto the bank, water running down her to the ground and her dress sticking to her body. Her eyes turned to his horse. A noble steed for a hopefully noble knight. She looked back to the man, sweeping some strands of wet hair from her face.

"If it isn't too personal, what purpose does a knight have out here in the woods, alone on top of that?" she asked casually but carefully, the smile never leaving her face.

[Deleted]

He watched her come out of the water, from some distance across the lake, and turn, responding to his voice. He had been initially surprised to find anyone at all, but having recovered fro his surprise, he thought that she showed the grace of one with angelic form. He wondered, at least for a few moments whether he was being magically charmed. The distance was great enough where he could see few details, but he thought he wouldn't be surprised to see her suddenly with wings.

Happily she had spoke, saying that she had not been startled, which he smiled back in return, glad to see that she apparently was not frightened. Suddenly, though, he saw her turn back to the water, and swim toward him, exiting the water just yards from his spot on the shore. He was heartened to see the same smile on her lips as she came out of the water as he had seen across the expanse of the waters of the lake. He still wondered if the lake might be enchanted as he took her appearance in. "I am glad at that .... I had no wish to disturb your privacy." Especially one of your beauty, he thought to himself silently.

As she came out of the water, and her soaking wet clothes clung to every curve of her body, Lancelot was awestruck by her beauty, once more .... this time at close range. "Um ....um ..... yes ..... Evelyn ...... that is a beautiful name ..... suited for a beautiful woman ...... milady. Myself? I ..... I am Sir Lancelot Du Lac, formerly of the Earl of Huntingdon in Wessex, as well as a former knight of Camelot." It was only by remembering his responsibilities and duties as a knight that he collected himself. He also noticed the attention she was giving to his horse, which was not unexpected. He was a fine physical specimen of his breed.

"No ... no ..... it is a reasonable question. Truthfully, I hate feeling confined by city walls and love to explore these woods, even though I am somewhat familiar with them. As far as the other goes, my martial skills have been such that I have never feared for my safety, whether I be alone or not. Besides, if I am merely responsible for myself and not another, I am able to be better focused. The question could as easily be asked of you .... why you are out here without escort, I think."

[evelyn]

Evelyn stifled a laugh as he stuttered. It was quite adorable really, for she had never heard a knight stutter like that. She gathered her hair into her hands, twisting and squeezing it in an effort to remove as least some of the water. Droplets ran down her eyes, finally dropping to the soft earth at her elbows. Wessex and Camelot eh? Why, how curious. I wonder why he is no longer a knight of Camelot. Evelyn tossed her hair over her shoulder once more, her eyes never leaving him. A small grin etched its self upon her lips at his closing words.

"Well, Sir Lancelot, the answer to your question is simple. I never have an escort. I am a gypsy you see, a wanderer of the lands," she explained simply. While her words were true, many would wonder why she was alone without a camp of other gypsies. Though when asked, she usually paid them no mind. She moved closer to Lancelot, stopping in front of his horse. She laid a soft hand on the beasts neck, crooning softly to him as her hand moved along his coat.

"This is a fine mount you have, Sir Lancelot," she said, turning her head to smile at him. She hoped he would not mind her petting his horse, for she certainly would stop if he did. Struck with a sudden idea, she turned to him.

"You must be hungry after your travels. Would you care to have dinner with me? I surely have enough." Without waiting for an answer, she moved past him, heading toward her camp and sleeping horses. A stone circle was set up; firewood and kindling already set up inside. A little ways from the fire pit and near a tree was a strange structure. Almost like a covered wagon in the days of the Old West, her home was indeed attached to a large wagon. Strips of thick, multicolored material was pulled tight, stretching over and up to create a roof and four walls. On the back of the structure was a finer sheet of purple cloth, creating a door to the inside. In front of the wagon and outside the large, almost tent-like structure was a seat, big enough for two to sit and control the horses. She slipped inside this now, calling out to him in case he followed.

"Go ahead and tie your mount near my own, I shall be out in a moment." With that she closed the cloth-door, slipping off the wet green dress. Her white slip clung to her even more, see through thanks to the water. She slipped that off as well, drying herself quickly before pulling on a simple dress of light blue. Pulling her hair into a ponytail, she slipped on her cloth shoes and came out.

[Deleted]

Much to his surprise, Lancelot could have sworn that she had just swallowed a laugh. For his part, Lancelot could not remember having been embarrassed by someone of the opposite sex, at least not like that. He had heard stories about gypsy travelers before, but had not run across such a distinct representative before. He watched he wring the water from her hair and saw the excess droplets of water bead up on her body and slowly drip off on to the ground, and he had to restrain himself from babbling. He watched, though, as she tossed her hair nonchalantly over one shoulder, as her eyes seem to be always taking him in, as he took in her smile.

Finally, though, she spoke, answering his first, somewhat mis-spoken questions. He had never been confronted and challenged with such beauty basically in his face before, and so he had not reacted well. He tried his best recover from the shock, however, with the easy smile that he had become known for. A Gypsy .... well yes ..... that would be obvious. "Never? I would think that it would be wise to have at least one companion, especially if you were underwater and unable to see someone who might just wander up."

He noticed now that she was becoming even more adventurous, moving closer, admiring, and stroking his horse's coat. The sound she made while she was doing it was quite soothing and calming, he thought. "Yes he is. He's a black Arabian stallion, and he's been with me many months now. He's quite intelligent. Sometimes, in battle, its as if he can sense my thoughts. Anyway, he's one of the best companions I've ever had. His name is Sher-Fore." In many ways he considered him to be his prize possession. Ordinarily, he didn't allow him to be handled by any one. But she seemed different.

Lancelot supposed that what she had just said was as close to an invitation as he was likely to receive. It wasn't as if she really expected an answer either. She just assumed that he would agree, he supposed. He got the feeling that not too many males turned down her requests or suggestions. He shook his head with slight amazement, dismounted, and began to lead Sher-Fore in the direction she had indicated. "Yes ... we haven't eaten in a bit, so I would be pleased to sit down for a meal ..... with you. As long as you think that there is plenty, I suppose it is fine."

She had gone inside a curious structure, and as she bid him, he tied Sher-Fore up near her horses, and waited somewhat awkwardly to come back out. Within a matter of moments she was back out, with both her hair and clothes transformed. However, he was finding the image of her coming out of the lake a difficult one to shake.

[evelyn]

As Evelyn stepped down the fold down steps, she took a moment to study him once more. It was more than his handsome looks that she admired, but the grace at which he moved. She stood a moment, just watching him with a soft smile. Sir Lancelot is truly a knight, and most likely a very fine one at that. I wonder...why did he leave Camelot? Could he be one blessed with magic, like me? Is that why he left, because of Uther? She walked foreword once more, taking two stools from beside her wagon-home and setting them by the fire. She smiled at him.

"Sit, relax. You must be tired after your travels," she said calmly and pleasantly. For one who had just met the man only minutes before, she was quite calm around him. her posture was relaxed, her movements full of grace and an ease of someone who has known their companion for years. She hummed softly as she worked, cutting up vegetables and dropping them into a pot. Her voice was soft and pleasant as she hummed, her eyes focused on her work. Dried meat, fresh vegetables, and herbs all went into the pot, mixing with water and broth to create the stew for their lunch.

"Would you mind lighting a fire?" she asked him, looking up from where she was working. She was kneeling on the ground opposite him, the ingredients in baskets beside her and the pot before her. She smiled at him before going back to work, her humming starting up again. She paused a moment to untie her hair for the wet strands weren't drying very well in her ponytail. Her hair flowed down her back once more, still slightly damp from her swim. Her cheeks were flushed a slight pink from the heat as she placed the pot over the fire, stirring the stew quietly.

"Lancelot...I know it isn't any of my business and you don;t have to tell me if you don;t want to but...why are you no longer a knight of Camelot? It's a beautiful place, and the king and prince aren't too bad, if not a bit arrogant," she said, well aware that she was babbling a bit. She bit her lower lip in order to stop her babbling and looked to him once more. She waited quietly, wondering if he would tell her.

[Deleted]

The original vision was a difficult one to get out of his head, but the one in the blue dress wasn't a bad one to replace it with either, he thought to himself. He tried to refrain from being to obvious in evaluating her appearance. After all, he was a knight, although not one of Camelot, and he had to maintain a certain decorum and distance. However, he got the distinct impression that from her short distance, she was evaluating him as well.

If he didn't know better, he thought that she betrayed the slightest of smiles. However, he didn't know if it was a result of what she thought was his reaction to her appearance, or if she was favorably inclined toward his, or if she was simply glad to have some company. He reasoned, though, that it might be that she just had a pleasant disposition, to which he he just shrugged his shoulders. While he considered the several different possibilities, she had stepped forward, and grabbed a couple of stools and set them by where the fire would be, he thought, with the implication that this is where they would sit.

Finally, she spoke, offering him one of the stools. "Gladly, mademoiselle. However, I am not too tired. I have had the opportunity to rest by the roadside, in the forest, at several places, as I've traveled from the northern edges of Wessex. However, I am not unfamiliar with this area, even though, currently, it is not my home. I thank you for the kind thoughts, and the stool is fine. After Sher-Fore does make a fairly comfortable place to travel on," he said looking at his Arabian stallion.

This woman did surprise him to a great extent. She must be as fearless as a knight, he thought. She was willing to swim, basically unprotected, just now. And here, although she did not know him, seemed as comfortable with Lancelot as if they had known each other for years. She seemed quite comfortable with fixing an evening meal for the two of him, he assumed. He found it all, so far, to be quite an extraordinary situation, here in the middle of the forest.

Before sitting down, he had removed his weather-beaten brownish-green traveling cloak, which revealed his uniform and colors of the Earl of Huntingdon, as well as his 2 long-swords, sheathed down over his back, with just the be-jeweled hilts extending above his shoulders. There were also the 6 throwing knives that were stuck in his belt, meant for throwing or close combat, as well as the rounded shield that hung over his back, in the manner of the ancient Spartan Greeks. He had just sat back down, when she had made her request. "Of course, ma cherie," he said quickly arising, gathering some dry kindling that he had seen by a nearby rotting stump. The taking a couple of cords of wood that was there for the fuel, he removed a piece of flint from his pocket and within moments the kindling was a fire and the wood fuel was beginning to burn. Once his task was completed he sat back down on his stool. He watched her as she untied her ponytail and went to work over the pot that, by the smell of it, was that of a cooking stew. Although, he thought to himself, there was the smell of herbs and seasonings that he was not familiar with. It did serve, though, to markedly increase his appetite.

He wondered when she would begin inquiring some things, some information of him. He didn't have long to wait. He didn't mind, though, outside of knowledge of Merlin's magical abilities, he had no secrets that he felt obliged to keep. "That's quite all right. You are my host, and there are some things, I imagine you might want to know of your guest, he smiled. "Yes .... yes ..... they are both a bit arrogant, but basically good. The Prince, though, has the tolerance, I think to be a better king. His father is a bit rigid, but perhaps that comes with being king for so long. The truth is that only men of noble blood can become a knight of Camelot."

"Although my family may have been noble in France, I am not of noble blood here. I used a falsified seal of nobility to gain entrance to knight training. Although I passed all of the tests for knights, an in fact, was knighted by Uther, once the truth was known I was stripped of my knighthood and sent to the dungeons. Arthur released me, and I helped destroy the Griffin. Arthur wanted me re-instated. but the king would not relent. So I left for Wessex where I had served before, but the Earl there granted me my knighthood. I'm afraid there's not much more to tell," on second thought, deciding to say nothing of rescuing Gwen and what had brought him to Hengest's castle, and his rivalry with Arthur over Gwen.

[evelyn]

Evelyn gathered her skirt slightly, standing and making her way over to him as she started his tale. She sat beside him on the other stool, letting go of her skirt and watching him. She listened to him quietly, shaking her head about the rule. I always thought that was quite silly... She continued to listen to him, watching his face and studying him. His tale was a simple one, and she was quite impressed that he had defeated a griffin and lived to tell about it. He must be very brave. His tale ended as quickly as it began but still she remained quiet, watching him, her piercing eyes trained on his. He's leaving something out....something important to him. Evelyn remained quiet, turning to stir the stew.

"It seems quite silly that just because you are not of British noble blood, you can not be a knight...I've met many a man, and woman, who can fight better than any other knight. Yet, just because of their blood, they are not allowed to become a knight..." she said, staring into the stew. Her lips were set in a frown and her brow was slightly furrowed. No, she did not like that rule one bit. It was silly and ridiculous. Just another way for the royals to remind their servants and people their place. Her frown deepened. Just because a child was not of noble blood, they had hardly half of the rights a noble child had. Talent could be wasted and ruined without the proper care. Great heroes, knights, scholars, and artists, plus many more, were lost all the time thanks to blood.

She squeezed the wooden spoon as she held it in her lap, her gave becoming one of fury. Why, she herself has been looked down upon many a times because of her gypsy blood. And not only was she a gypsy woman, and entertainer at that, she was a bastard child. Her mother wasn't married when she was born and after Evelyn came into this world, no man courted her with the intention of marriage. Blood and status, it meant nothing. They were simply titles, given to those who were unworthy of them. They should use their power for their people, not to better themselves. And yet, here was a knight of bravery and honorable intentions, and he had to lie to become a knight here in England!

"Ah..." Evelyn looks down as she let out a soft cry of pain. She had gripped the spoon too tightly and when she moved her left hand, she saw a red mark from it. In the center of her palm and the red mark was a large splinter of wood. It stung badly and she bit her lip against the pain.

[Deleted]

Lancelot watched her out of the corner of his eye as she slowly made her way over to where he was as told her his story, at least part of it. He wasn't completely sure how far to trust this striking woman that he had just met. She was showing him considerable hospitality to this point, he considered, but he learned that different people often had ulterior motives and their own agenda. He noted that as she drew closer that she seemed to be watching him, especially his face, studying him as he was studying her, he expected, not knowing if she should trust him or not. Finally, though, she turned from her observations to stir the stew he saw, somewhat relieved.

"Perhaps ..... I have known many such individuals myself ..... fighting men ..... who if organized into a single fighting force could take on any group of nobles that could be thrown at them. However, Uther's Code makes it quite clear ..... no exceptions. After I killed the Gri..... ...... um ..... Arthur and the King got in quite a row over me. I guess Arthur felt he owed me because I basically sav...... um ...... its not important. Anyway, for the sake of peace between them I left Camelot and went back to Wessex to serve the Earl of Huntingdon there." He could tell by the look on her face as she stared into the stew that she was not happy with his story.

He heard a sudden squeal of pain, and heard her drop the spoon and saw the red of blood, as well as the splinter in her hand. Lancelot sprung up from his stool, with his lightning-quick reflexes he was deceptively fast, especially compared to the pace he normally moved, taking her wrist in one hand, and removing the splinter with the other. "Here now, stew needs seasoning, but none of that red spice!" He had her dip her hand in the pale of water that sat to the side, removed it after several moments. Fortunately, it appeared to have been just one big splinter and there were no remnants left behind. "Do you have any herbs for the treating of wounds such as this," he inquired.

[evelyn]

Her hand throbbed with pain, her heartbeat seeming to be in her palm. More blood began to bead out slowly, running down her palm and wrist slowly. She looked up with a bit of surprise as the man beside her moved quick. Her hand and removed the splinter quickly. She mumbled out a soft thanks as her cheeks burned in embarrassment. She felt silly, having him take care of her when he had no need to. A small hiss of pain found it's way between her lips as the cold water stung her hand. While it was necessary to clean the wound, it still hurt like hell. Evelyn nodded, taking her hand from the water and standing.

"Yes. Follow me," she said with a small smile, going toward her covered-wagon like home. She moved aside the thick leather door before stepping in. The light came in through the fabric sides, giving the inside a dreamy look to it. For looking so small, it was actually a bit spacious inside with no crowding. in the center was a small wooden table, nailed down to the floor with two chairs around it. A woven cloth was draped over it in tablecloth style, reaching almost all the way to the floor. Another thicken, larger, and much softer cloth was laid over the whole floor, creating a nice carpet. In one corner was a pallet of pillows with one sheer sheet and one thicker blanket over it. There were some bookcase looking furniture that was also nailed into the floor with glass doors to make sure their contents didn't fall out. There were also chests with strange designs carved into them. One was larger than the others and open, showing colorful clothes in different styles.

Evelyn went to one of the shelves, opening the glass door and pulling out a jar of herbs and some gauze. She set the on the table before rolling up her sleeve.

"Would you mind helping me wrap it?" she asked, looking over to him. In the hazy light, the water droplets still on her hair seemed to slightly shine and her skin glow. For her, this was truly a flattering light.

[Deleted]

Lancelot realized that even though there was only one major splinter and not several small ones, it had to be a painful injury for her. He knew the more quickly it was removed, the better it would be for her. Since she was quite comfortable in being out in the forest alone, he imagined that she was quite capable and prepared to take care of an injury such as this. He heard her whisper of thanks, and smiled. "Think nothing of it .... its only a small repayment of the kind hospitality you have shown me." It was easy to see that the sudden shock of the cold water was painful, but the wound did have to be cleaned.

She responded to quickly to his question about the healing herbs. He would have been quite surprised if she had not had them, or knew where to acquire them. If she had not, he would have simply taken her to see Gaius, although he didn't know how he would have been welcomed. He did know that Gaius would not have turned away a patient in need. He followed her into her wagon, and he had to admit that he had never seen its like before. It was a cross between a sleeping quarters, a dressing room,and a living space. As a person who had originally been trained as a carpenter he found the exquisite pieces of furniture to be quite interesting. "Well its been some time since I've seen anything like these pieces," he said carefully running his fingertips over the the different designs he found in the wood, wondering what tool and/or technique had been used to make them. The multi-hued clothing was as attention-grabber, but it was the furniture that captured his attention.

As he analyzed the designs he saw out of the corner of his eye that she had opened a compartment to withdraw something .... he assumed for her wound. "If you don't mind me asking, what are you using."

He watched her roll her sleeve up as he responded, "No, I don't mind .... whatever I can do to help." He broke away from his focus on the exquisite furniture and was by her side in a moment. He was once more captivated by her beauty, while he waited for her to tell him what to do.

[evelyn]

Evelyn set the jar and the gauze on the table, glad that they had already cleaned her small, but painful wound. She opened the jar with a bit of difficulty and the sweet perfume of flowers drifted out. She used her other hand to gently apply the mixture to the wound. As she knew would happen, the mixture stung slightly, but she was able to ignore it for the most part.

"I'm using Cleavers, Comfrey leaves, and Echinacea. All have healing and soothing properties, making them ideal for this. The healer of my camp often taught us young ones her remedies in case we were hurt while she wasn't there," she said softly, her eyes distant. She remembered her camp well. The rich scents of spice, herbs, and flowers always had hung over the air. There were homes like hers everywhere, each housing a different family and business for when the camp ventured into towns. She remembered the singing and dancing that always happen before breakfast and after supper. Evelyn shook her head, ridding herself of the thoughts that made her homesick. I made my choice. She smiled at Lancelot, giving him the gauze.

"Thank you for helping me. Not many would," she said, knowing far too well most people's thoughts on gypsies. She used her other hand to tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear as she waited for him to wrap her hand. her intense eyes moved from her hand up to his face, watching him quietly.

"Lancelot...if you do not mind my intruding, may I ask why you seemed so sad before when thinking of Camelot and your time there? It seemed that you had more reasons to be sad than just the reason you told me before," she said softly and intimately, as if she had to speak quiet so no one else would overhear them.

[Deleted]

Lancelot thought, given her likely independent spirit, that she would want to do as much as she could, herself. She handled everything pretty well, as if she had more than sufficient experience. Since she was obviously alone here, he wondered how long ago that she had left her people, and why. Sometimes people did things because it was their choice, and sometimes because they were forced to. He wondered which group she belonged to.

"An interesting mixture, that is. Is it something that you came up with yourself, or was it passed on to you from others?" He committed the mixture to memory so he could write it down later. One never knew when things you learned, sometimes by accident, my come in useful later on down the road. It seemed that his line of conversation triggered something in her memory. At any rate, it seemed that the expression in her eyes indicated something. He assumed it wasn't all bad, since, in a few moments, she responded to him with a smile, as she handed him the gauze.

"Well, one would be tempted to say that a knight is not supposed to act like most. I was taught from a young age, though, that when we can we are supposed to help our neighbor, since we don't know when we are going to require their help. So, sometimes its about simply doing the right thing, and others its about self-preservation," he chuckled. He saw her tuck several strands of hair, as he expertly wrapped the gauze into a fairly effective bandage. He did have some experience from the battlefield after all. He did not see, though, nor would he have understood the intense appraisal that she was giving him with her searching eyes.

Well, yes, it was intruding, and yes, he did mind, but he swore to himself that he would not show it. "Well, certain things are more private than others .... but I'll say that it involves a girl, and another who loved her as well, and so that there would not me problems between the girl and my .... friend, and between me and .... my friend, I stay away from Camelot as much as I can, " he said with a face without a smile. "Some of us definitely have more luck on the battlefield than in other places," he chuckled.

[evelyn]

"The healer in my camp always taught us little ones her secrets. She hoped to find an apprentice, or at least someone that would keep her remedies after she died. And even if we had no interest in healing, her remedies were always helpful in situations like this," she answered softly. Thinking about her old home always seemed to bring a pang of homesickness to the young girl.

“Some knights are not as noble as you may thin, Lancelot. Some abuse their status. Actually, many do. And even more do not uphold the code they swear to,” she said softly. His touch was warm and gentle against her injured hand. It was nice, being taken care of one more. Evelyn had forgotten the feeling of it long ago. Since her mother died, she always took care of herself. She bandaged and healed all her injuries, wiped away all her own tears, and made herself her own woman. She has never known the touch of a man really until now. She never allowed the men in her camp to treat her wounds. It was pleasant actually, the rough hardness of his hands against her soft ones. Now I understand why girls always make such a fuss about needing to be taken care of. His next words made her smile softly in sympathy.

“We girls always do seem to complicate things. We steal hearts and hold them captive, not releasing them until the man is only a hollow shell of himself. If it any wonder that the Sirens of myth were female? It is because all females are like that, even if we do not know it. We are temptresses and betrayers to our own hearts,” Evelyn pulled her hand softly from his, gathering up the leftover gauze and replaying the lid on the jar of herbs. She moved over the cabinet, opening the glass door and placing the jar and gauze back in their proper places.

“You forget that love is a battlefield within itself, Lancelot. Our hearts are constantly at war with our minds and others. And if you look closely, I’m sure you shall see that you are more admired and desired than you seem to believe,” she said with a smile in his direction. Yes, it was easy to think that why Lancelot has his heart set on that one girl, he has many admirers. He was a handsome man, and a knight at that. He was kind, gentle and honest-as far as she could tell at least. She was glad that Lancelot had happened upon her only not but an hour ago. She was glad that she was able to meet this man of true knightly quality.

“Shall we go check on the stew? It should be ready by now,” she said with another smile. Evelyn closed the glass door and brushed past him, heading toward the door.

[Deleted]

Lancelot thought that that was the way it should be. "I think in most cities or villages, that has always been the way of things .... how important knowledge was passed, from one generation to another. Knowledge like this is important to be taught and passed on, don't you think." He noticed that suddenly she seemed to have a far-off look in her eyes, but could think of no reason for it.

"Well, I can't really be concerned with some knights and the actions that they take. I can only control mine, and I know how a knight is supposed to act. Yes, I have seen the abuses of both knights and kings. That does not change how I know that I must behave. I follow my own rules, not others." He noticed that she made no attempt to withdraw hew smaller, more delicate injured hand, from his larger and stronger one. He wondered, even given her background, how often she had allowed another person this close to her, especially a man. He noted, that she did not make a great attempt to move away from, or push him away, and he smiled down at her.

He was surprised that he had told her as much as he did. It was generally not wise to be so forthcoming, but he had left out enough specific details so that he was fairly sure that the individuals could not be identified. Outside of that, he had made sure not to make any mention of Merlin, so that the secret of Merlin's magical powers would remain that, just a secret. Lancelot, upon listening to her response to his abbreviated explanation merely shrugged his shoulders. "I doubt its on purpose, mademoiselle. It just .... happens .... that way. Yes, hearts do get stolen and damaged, enough for one to forswear any future love or entanglement. Love can make it difficult for a knight to maintain his honor, especially if it interferes with his worn duty."

Finally she withdrew her hand from his. She began to clean up the various healing supplies and herbs, and putting them away into their proper places and cabinets. "I have never looked at it in such a way, but it often does leave damage and woundings in its wake, of that I will agree. However, I think you greatly overestimate how this knight is looked on by others. After all, I am simply an average knight, who seeks to what is right, and to do it is good, as the knightly code would dictate."

He heard her sudden request, realizing that he had forgotten all about the food. "Why yes, lets go and sample the fine results of your work," he smiled as she passed him by and he followed her back out to where it was cooking.

[evelyn]

Evelyn smiled and made her way down the steps and out into the blistering heat. The fire crackled and she smiled, the smell of stew in the air.

"I think it's almost ready," she said. Evelyn gathered up her skirt a bit before sitting down on the stool. The broken spoon lay by her feet. She carefully picked it up and tossed the thing into the fire.

"And Lancelot, I think you underestimate yourself greatly. You're very handsome, kind, and from what I can tell, blessed with a good heart." Evelyn smiled at him before going back to the stew. A nice, cool wind started to blow in from the lake, making the heat of the late afternoon almost bearable. Evelyn brushed a few strands of hair from her face, resting her elbows on her knees. Her deep eyes stared into the fire. The flames reflected gold in her dark eyes, bringing an eerie light to them.

The trees around them rustled with the soft breeze and the sounds of singing birds rang all around them in a beautiful song. It was a relaxing place; full of pleasant serenity. Closing her eyes, Evelyn took a deep breath, loving the smells of the rich earth that dived into her senses.

"Sometimes, when love is the topic, you just have to open up your heart and let it in."

[Deleted]

Lancelot dutifully followed her out and down the steps, back to where she had been cooking the stew. He was quite warm in his uniform, it still being in the heat of the day, and as they moved near the fire, but the breeze off the water did help a bit.

"Yes .... well .... it smells ready," he smiled. She did not look as what he had imagined a gypsy to look like. He thought that she moved with uncommon grace, but he still wondered why such a pretty creature would be out here by herself. There were generally only two basic reasons that would normally be given. She had either been cast out, or she had run away from something.

He watched her throw the spoon into the fire, as he thought it was big puzzle, and in many ways she was an enigma. She broke the silence, by commenting, by implication, on what he had told her about himself. "I disagree. I know how good a fighter, a swordsman, even a carpenter that I am or could be. What more to life must there be than those? Aw, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I don't see that there is much to look at here. Besides, its not a good idea to judge on appearance. How do you judge my heart, anyway?" He did think, though, that her beauty, was reflected in her eyes, as the light of the fire seemed to enhance them.

As dusk approached the cooling effect of the breeze off the water seemed to grow stronger and more effective. the cooling, after such a hot day did seem to have a relaxing effect .... one that was soothing at least. "Oh, mademoiselle, such a thing can be dangerous, especially if the heart and mind are not used to such things," he smiled slightly.