Vals of the Mandrake [open]

[Lavinia Aquila]

The city of Hadrian was bathed in a soft, ethereal light of twilight time. The city seemed to slow down as the day changed into night. Children ran to their homes, preparing for bed, as the knights and the creatures of the night crawled out of the woodwork to begin their drinking and fun. As the men gambled, drank, and fondled their women, Lavinia, stood in a barn wearing a brown tunic.

Lavinia did not always spend her nights in a barn, but tonight was a little special. Tonight she was practicing her dancing. During the day she was busy running chores as an assistant seamstress and at night she would normal mingle with the revelers or perform in front of King Arthur and his knights on special occasions. But every so often she would find time and a quiet place to dance.

She had not been trained at a young age, but Lavinia had taken to graceful body movements quite quickly. She had at least been a very active and happy child before her parents and her master had died. But now she was a free woman, free from the bonds of Rome and slavery. And her dancing reflected that. Sometimes she would dance slow and graceful and sometimes she would dance with a wild abandon which was alluring and mesmerizing.

Lavinia's hips swayed back and forth as she took her delicate steps, the non-existent music playing in her head. Normally she would have delicate bracelets around her ankles that chimed when she stepped, but she did not want to make noise as she silently moved through the barn. The animals were quiet today as if they were intently watching her dance, afraid to break her out of her trance.

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[Galahad]

Galahad was late and he hated being late. Late meant less time for himself in the evening. Late meant that he would have less time in the tavern, less time to get something to eat and drink and less time to get some sleep. Huffing to himself in annoyance he gently tugged on the reins of his mare, guiding the beautiful animal into the barn. He had been out on a small patrol along the wall. It was nothing serious, just a regular routine to keep an eye upon the strongholds of the wall, check the defences and to keep an eye out for Saxon’s or any that might want to attack. As always for the last few weeks the ride had been completely uneventful, probably the most exciting thing he had seen was a bird flying overhead with a small mouse in its beak. But the ride had taken longer than Galahad had wanted and now he was late getting back to the fort. Night was falling and the golden rays of the sun were dying upon the horizon.

Tilting his head to the side Galahad stretched his neck, unaware for a moment that anyone else was in the barn. It was a quiet place one in which the brunette had spent a great deal of time in over the years. The smell of the hay, the sound of the horses shuffling in their stalls always reminded Galahad of his beloved home in Sarmatia. The brunette was so lost in his thoughts of his childhood that at first he did not notice the beautiful young woman dancing before him.

Blinking Galahad paused, his deep blue eyes falling upon the image of Lavinia. He knew her instantly for she often danced in the tavern at night – much to the delight of any man that saw her. She was beautiful and Galahad could not help but stand and watch, his fingers still gripping onto the reins of his mare. The way Lavinia swayed back and forth, the movement of her hips, the twirl of her dress about her long legs it was all captivating… hypnotizing.

[Lavinia Aquila]

Though it was silent in the barn, inside Lavinia's head there was music and drums and the sound of her beads and coins rattling as she spun and stepped around the room. In her mind she was wearing a luxurious red silk dress with gold, ruby, and pearl beaded sashes that spun around her and in her dark hair sat a beautiful gold headpiece. But in reality her dark curls wear pinned away from her face and falling our of the braids and bun she had put it into earlier in the day.

But as Lavinia danced, her arms moving gracefully about her, she was suddenly removed from the trance by a noise, the only noise, other than her, in the barn. Lavinia opened her hazel eyes and looked around, her arms dropping to her side and her hair falling more out of her braids and bun. Her brown tunic stopped moving and hung limp around her legs, but was tied to accentuate her bust and thin waist. As she looked to see what the noise was she saw the most handsome man she had seen since traveling to Briton. He had a mop of curly brown hair and delicate, boyish features which were very attractive. But what caught her attention the most was the kindness in his eyes.

Lavinia's first reaction was to smile at this handsome young man, but then she quickly grew suspicious, and then suppressed that and left only the feeling of confusion. She did not expect to be interrupted tonight as she never had been in the past. Her brain began to fire up as she went through the catalog of people she knew and was able to place his face. He was Galahad, one of Arthur's knights and had fought at Badon Hill. Lavinia turned herself to completely face the young knight.

"Eager to see a preview of the next festivities entertainment?" Lavinia asked teasingly. She had never spoken to him before, though she had admired his beauty from afar.

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[Galahad]

The corner of Galahad’s lips twitched upwards in a playful smirk as the beautiful brunette turned to address him. Honestly he had not intentionally tried to get a view of the young woman dancing, but now that he had he certainly did not regret it at all! Lavinia was one of the most beautiful women that Galahad had ever seen, not just because of her looks but there was something about the way she danced. She was so smooth and fluid, her movements determined and yet free. It reminded him of battle, of wielding a sword. One had to move with grace and ease and yet with determined strokes and purpose.

“Not intentionally… “ Galahad said the smirk still gracing his lips. Not intentional but certainly not unwelcomed. His blue eyes roamed up and down the slender frame of the young woman before him. She was dressed simply, not in the lavish dresses that she wore when she danced for an audience. And yet, despite the lack of silk and jewels she looked just as beautiful. “Are you practicing a new dance for your audience?” Galahad could not help but ask curiously.

[Lavinia Aquila]

Lavinia cocked her head slightly to the left, a corner of her mouth turning upward as Galahad smirked. She knew she was in no danger at the moment and so her posture relaxed slightly and she began to breathe. She could feel his eyes wandering over her and her skin tingled. She kept her own hazel eyes fixed on his face and his blue eyes. She always liked blue eyes as it reminded her of the ocean and the vast sky above. Blue eyes in some ways made her think of freedom as sky was freedom to a bird and ocean was freedom to a fish. Lavinia enjoyed her freedom with each breath, though the fear of being recaptured always hovered at the dark edge of her mind.

Lavinia raised an eyebrow as she continued her coy smile when Galahad opened his mouth. No, she believed it was not intentional. No one knew she came here to practice. Some people did not even recognize her with out the silk, jewelry, and paint. Perhaps even Galahad would not have looked at her as she was now if he had not seen her dancing, she thought. But then she was faced with a question. Lavinia slowly analyzed what he was asking, thinking of the best response.

"Perhaps it is, perhaps it is not. Do you like what you see?" she asked, meaning the dancing she had just been doing, though she allowed the ambiguity to hang in the air. Lavinia shifted her weight slightly and let her hands clasp in front of her. She had delicate, fine hands and had often been complimented on them. It could be that people noticed them more because she generally could not keep her hands still. Sometimes when she spoke, she would gracefully move her hands to emphasize her words, or the would twirl a strand of her hair, but right now she wanted to be still and calm in front of this young knight.

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[Galahad]

At Lavinia’s words Galahad’s smirk grew even wider. He had to control his smile so that his facial expression did not give his thoughts away. But his deep blue eyes glittered never once leaving the beautiful blond that stood before him. He watched as she clasped her long slender fingers together in front of her and was silently glad that she used them to enhance her dancing rather than to wield a weapon – she was far to mesmerizing to be caught by the horrors of battle. Letting his eyes drift upwards Galahad’s blue orbs locked with Lavinia’s hazel eyes. There was something about those eyes, something deeper, captivating. As though Lavinia could see deeper than the average person, look further into ones soul. It was a chilling and yet exciting thought all rolled into one.

“Perhaps I do… Perhaps I don’t…” Galahad replied, his turn to play but this time he was unable to stop the smile that spread broadly across his lips. Of course he liked what he saw; he very much liked what he saw! He had seen the beautiful brunette dance on several occasions before and each and every one of those times he had greatly enjoyed what he had seen. He had also enjoyed the images that lingered in his mind once he had returned to his room at the closing of the evening. After all he was a man, a man that greatly admired a beautiful, graceful woman – not that Lavinia needed to know any of that of course!

Shifting from one foot to the other for a moment Galahad’s long calloused fingers tightened around the reins of his mare. Those hazel eyes were still watching him, studying him perhaps as his own were doing to her. “You know this is where the Sarmatian’s stable their horses” the Knight stated, somehow feeling the need to state why he was here, interrupting Lavinia’s dancing.

[Lavinia Aquila]

Lavinia was pleased to see his smile widen and Lavinia's own smile reached her hazel eyes and her skin glowed slightly from both her smile and the dancing she had been doing. She felt her hands clasped together and mentally kept them in check from fidgeting. She did not want to appear like a little girl who could not sit still. A small curl fell from behind her ear and grazed her forehead and the tip of her nose and she slowly raised one hand and brushed it away before clasping her hands again. She then became painfully aware that she was in her brown tunic, and not even her best one. But she refused to show her confidence wavering and continued to smile proudly and she held her gaze.

She could tell that Galahad had understood her ambiguous question and was a little surprised that he did not notice the state of her attire. Her heart calmed again as she felt herself warming towards him even more. There was something about him that intuitively felt good, though she could not put a finger on it as to why. It was almost as if she could tell him something and open her heart and feel safe, but she knew she would not do so, not yet if ever. But she liked the feeling she had right now in front of him.

Lavinia took a step closer, and yet managed to keep her distance from the young knight. Her hips swayed sensually as she did. Of course she was emphasizing it a little, but she knew that with men she had to emphasize her femininity and even sometimes bring out her doe-eyed innocent look. Of course Lavinia was a lot more innocent than she liked to admit. Despite the horrors and things she had seen and been through, she still had kept some naivety and innocence about her.

Galahad then spoke again and Lavinia subtly and slowly nodded her head. She understood why he said that. He might feel embarrassed for walking in on her, though this was more his stable than hers. But then a playfulness took over her and she responded.

"And you know I am not a stable hand," Lavinia responded, a twinkle in her eye.

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[Galahad]

He knew she was no stable hand and for that he was eternally grateful. There was something about those hands, long slender fingers which Lavinia moved and used with such grace and beauty. Galahad watched as she lifted a single hand, those long fingers brushing away a stray dark curl which had fallen across her forehead. There was purpose and yet such ease about her movement, as though with a mere movement of those hands she could hypnotize even the most strongest of men. Swallowing Galahad blinked and turned his attention back to Lavinia’s delicate face, his grin lopsided as she spoke.

“Of that I am glad for I would hate to see those hands covered in dirt and manure…” He snorted playfully but his grin faded as a thought came to him. Better to have ones hands covered in dirt and muck than to have the permanent stains of blood and life embedded within each finger. To have hands that danced and worked for a living rather than to have hands that took life and were forever stained crimson.

Galahad sighed softly, not even realising that he had been staring down at his own hand which was gripping tightly onto the reins of his horse. He coughed and lifted his face, shaking his head slightly as though to banish any such thoughts away. That was the past and this the future. Dark curls bounced around his forehead as he turned his face to look back at Lavinia.

“This is no dancing hall and yet you are still here,” Galahad teased, the playful grin quickly returning to his full lips. “I have never seen you practicing here before.”

[Lavinia Aquila]

Lavinia continued smiling, her eyes sparkling as she watched Galahad. She could see that thoughts and feelings were passing through his head and she allowed a small giggle to escape when he spoke again. But she remembered that once not only her hands were covered in mud and dirt. It had taken a long time to wash off the dust from slavery as well as escape and travel. She had not always been able to keep herself clean and put together. She was thankful that she now had a safe home and a wash basin.

But then she noticed a change in Galahad. A darker thought was shadowing his face and she wanted to step forward and caress his cheek. Lavinia was not usually a physical person, but she was maternal and had an instinct to protect and comfort. Whatever she felt in Galahad made her want to comfort him and embrace him, but she knew she could not. First, she did not want to be too forward, and second, she did not even know the knight very well. But as his thought past, Lavinia was able suppress her desire to touch him. She allowed her smile to reappear and light her face again as he finally spoke again.

"Well, usually there are no curious knights interrupting my practice," Lavinia teasingly scolded. She had lightness to her voice, trying to erase the earlier dark cloud. She gracefully spread her arms out as she said, "Here there is enough room to practice and no one other than me comes here at night." She then clasped her hands together again. "And what brought you here so late?" Lavinia asked, trying to turn the attention toward him. Lavinia then stepped forward and began to take the reins of Galahad's horse, prepared to take the horse to its stall. She did like to keep busy.

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[Galahad]

Curious? Galahad was always curious! It was a trait he was well known for! In his younger days if there was something going on about the fort then he just had to find out what it was. He had his youth and size to use for his advantage and compared to some of the other knights he was quick and agile and could sneak into places others couldn’t. Maybe it was because he was a slave and thus no one but Arthur felt the need to inform him or the other Sarmatians about what was going to happen or perhaps it was just his own curiosity. Whatever the reason Galahad was well known to have a deep desire to learn and know more. He could not help but snort loudly yet playfully at Lavinia’s teasing. If anyone was out of place in this barn it was her and he could tell that she knew such a thing.

Deep blue eyes watched every graceful move as Lavinia seemed to sweep across the ground, closing the distance between them. Galahad watched as her long arm reached out and those delicate, beautiful fingers wrapped around the reins of his mare. But for his part Galahad’s fingers only tightened around the reins and he did not move his hand. He was a Sarmatian through and through and horses were in his blood. From his very birth he had been taught to tend to and protect the majestic animals and to treat them with as much respect as one would a brother for one never knew if the horse they cared for was a friend come back to earth. To touch, or dare to touch a Sarmatian’s horse was a very bold move and Galahad could not help but smirk, his eyebrow twitching upwards towards his brow.

“Bold as well I see….” The brunette commented aloud, hand slipping down ever so slightly upon the reins.

[Lavinia Aquila]

Lavinia could not help but giggle at Galahad's snort. Though she tried to act older than her years, sometimes she still was a young lady who wouldn't mind frolicking in a meadow and giggling with friends. But any such childhood had been denied to her from the moment she was born. It was interesting how no one was ever asked if they wanted to be born, but they had to make due with what life gave them. And that's what Lavinia tried to do, though it was difficult on some days. Sometimes she would make an excuse and claim things would be easier if she found a love, but she knew she could not rely on such things.

Lavinia's brow furrowed as she watched Galahad's grip tighten around the reins. She looked up at him, a look of confusion on her face. He was much taller and yet his size was not imposing. She suddenly realized how close she put herself next to him and hid a blush. But she noticed his smirk and wondered if he was toying with her, or if it was something deeper. She never had a horse of her own so she could not understand the bond unless it was explained to her.

Lavinia continued to look up at Galahad, a quizzical look on her face when she noticed his hand slipping down toward hers. Suddenly she was unsure of his intentions, but instead of drawing back immediately, she allowed herself to sort through her thoughts and emotions. She found this knight to be extremely handsome and she found herself enjoying his company, but she felt her old untrustworthy feelings taking grip on her soul and mind.

"Perhaps a little too bold," Lavinia said slowly as she let her hand slip from the reins, but she remained where she was, close to the brown haired knight. Suddenly she found herself not wanting to move from her place and she felt slightly uneasy, but at the same time excited and intrigued. The molecules of her skin were vibrating, waiting to see what would happen next.

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[Galahad]

Galahad watched as Lavinia’s delicate fingers uncurled from the reins and slipped down and away, her hand falling to her side. He blinked and looked up, catching the look on the young woman’s face. He instantly wondered if he had offended the beautiful dancer with his statement and actions with his hand. If he had it was most certainly not his intention, but to his very core he was a Sarmatian and one thing that one should know was that Sarmatian’s were very possessive of their horses.

The corner of Galahad’s mouth twitched upwards in a soft smile that he hoped came across as somewhat reassuring to the young woman. “I simply meant that you are bold to come to close to a Sarmatian’s horse… you do know how possessive we are of our steeds?” Galahad asked, his eyebrows raising upwards in question.

[Lavinia Aquila]

Now that Lavinia's hand was free of the reins, she wished she had something else to hold on to, put pushed that thought from her mind. She let her hand clasp the skirt of her tunic as she looked up at Galahad and then looked down. She could be confident a few feet away from the tall knight, but up close she could feel the heat from his body and she knew that in one second he could be touching her. She had not really been touched since she had arrived at the city. There had maybe been one kiss when she first was settling in, but then she found out the boy had a sweetheart and so she promised not to come in between anymore lovers. Even if she had to sacrifice her own happiness, but with Galahad she did not know what to think or what promises she could keep.

Lavinia looked up again and saw Galahad smile and so she returned it with one of her own. "I would not know. I am neither a Sarmatian nor acquainted with the customs. But now that I know, I shall be able to not repeat that mistake again." Lavinia was aware that she was sounding formal and she felt terrible for that. She did not want to push this knight away and so she thought of what she could do to correct the situation.

"In fact, you are the first of Arthur's knights that I have met." Lavinia's smile widened as she continued to look up and regained her ease, though she still felt his closeness in the back of her mind.

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[Galahad]

From the way Lavinia looked up at him and then away Galahad could tell that he had made the young woman feel uncomfortable. Again it had not been his intention to do so and he felt as though he could have cursed himself. He had never been as smooth or skilful with women as say Lancelot was. He liked them just as much and greatly enjoyed watching them, speaking with them and spending time in their company but he… he just did not seem to have the same skill and ease as Lancelot had. Although saying that he was by no means unaware of the sways of a woman – he had had the pleasures of many beautiful women throughout his years and had learnt a thing or two along the way. Just unfortunately not as much as he would have liked regarding the initial conversations and introductions!

Once more Galahad’s eyebrows shot upwards when Lavinia stated that he was the first Sarmatian Knight she had met. He was honestly surprised by this and would have bet many coins on the fact that Lancelot would already have tried to woo the beautiful dancer. She had danced several times for their entertainment and Galahad knew that any beautiful woman would immediately catch Lancelot’s eye. And Lavinia was one of the most beautiful women that Galahad had ever seen. Yet it was not just her physical beauty that caught his eye and drew him in, it was also the way she moved, such grace and ease as though she were on the battlefield yet wasn’t.

“Well I’m not sure if that is good or bad” Galahad snorted, running his free hand through his dark curls. “I meant no offence in my words I just… one thing you must learn about us Sarmatians is that to us a horse is the greatest gift. There is no other animal like a horse. Legend has it that the souls of mighty Sarmatian warriors whom have fallen on the battlefield return in the greatest of horses.”

[Lavinia Aquila]

Lavinia had been telling the truth when she said he was the first knight. Of course his mind would jump to Lancelot, but since she had made her escape after each dance and had avoided night time revelries, Lancelot never had a chance to confront her. But Lavinia did desire the company of the other knights and women. Still, the city felt new to her and she was alone. Lavinia had learned to be alone, though it was difficult being thrusted into the situation. As a young girl she had frantically searched for someone to cling to, but there had been nobody. Now she had difficulty finding the same connection she had desired all those years ago.

Lavinia listened to Galahad, her eyes watching his jawline as he spoke. His voice was kind and appealing. Lavinia did enjoy listening to voices. She had a knack for them. Once she could place a name with a voice, she would recognize the voice easily.

"That is beautiful," Lavinia said, after the knight finished. "I wonder if we all come back as animals after we die," she mused, more to herself. Lavinia tried to contemplate which animal she would be. A lion, or a bird? Perhaps a sea creature. She did not know though. But she then pictured Galahad as a beautiful chestnut stead and smiled to herself, her childlike innocence showing through her hazel eyes.

"I suppose it is a comfort to have such a connection with another being. Especially being so far away from home." Lavinia knew what it felt like to be away from home, though she did not know where home was. It was not in Rome anymore, but neither was it in Thrace where her mother's people were. But was in Briton where her father's people were? Or was it someplace else? Lavinia could feel herself growing smaller and lost in the vat country, but her senses brought her back to the stable. Galahad's presence was grounding.

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[Galahad]

Home? Where was home? Was it here in this cold almost forgotten country where he had been taught to be nothing more than a slave and a killer? Where he had been dragged up, beaten, kicked, humiliated by the Romans all for their enjoyment. Where he had learnt to brand a sword and shoot arrows in the sheer hope to survive? Where he had loved and lost and created bonds of such strength and trust that not even death could break them now? Or was it his beloved Sarmatia? His childhood where he had learned everything that it was to be a Sarmatian. Where he had played with his sisters and tended horses with his father. Where the ground was golden as far as the eye could see and night meant warm fires and joyful songs.

“I think home is where the heart is” Galahad finally said, his voice deep but soft. Home was not a term he wanted to think about to often for it confused him. His home was Sarmatia but his loyalties were with Arthur and all he knew now was this life of struggle and death. Blinking several times he turned his deep blue eyes to look down at Lavinia, a soft smile gracing his lips.

“Briton is not your home?” The Knight asked curiously. He could not tell from Livinia’s accent where exactly she was from nor did he know anything about her, except that she was beautiful and he found himself desiring to know more.

[Lavinia Aquila]

Lavinia smiled and felt the warmth of his statement spread over her. She wanted to lean into him and close her eyes and feel like she was at home, but instead she kept their distance. "I wish I could feel that, but perhaps one day I will." Lavinia now felt slightly older, the child fleeing from the memories of hardship and loss. She knew that she was damaged and that she should repair herself, but she could not. Only when she was dancing did she feel completely whole and at peace. But at this moment she felt pretty close to that.

Lavinia's hazel eyes widened like a deer when Galahad asked her about Briton. No one knew that she was a runaway slave. She was afraid that she would be sent back to Rome and to Tertius and she could never let that happen. She would fling her fragile body off a cliff before she went back to slavery. Of course her accent had been flawless when she had lived in Rome, but over the years her traveling had seeped into her voice and she had picked up different accents, though they were subtle.

"My father was Briton," Lavinia replied, concealing the fact that she was hiding more. "But I had not know this country until I had come here recently. I have been a traveler, though now I want to settle down." Lavinia had liked the stories she had heard of King Arthur and thought that this city and Briton could be the home she was looking for and desired, even if she was just a lowly seamstress and dancer. She had dreams of settling down with a family, though she did not know if she could give up dancing.

"Perhaps Briton is not so bad a place to call home." Lavinia smiled.

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[Galahad]

Her father was from Briton but Galahad could not help but noticed that Lavinia did not say that she was from Briton. He also noticed the way her hazel eyes widened as he asked her where her home was. He could tell that something was amiss, as though it was a delicate subject for the young woman. The curiosity within Galahad immediately made him want to know more. What was it that seemed to upset Lavinia about home?

“You wish to settle down here? In Briton?” Galahad asked the shock quite clear in his voice. He grunted, shaking his head and causing the dark curls to bounce around his forehead. “Has no one told you about the weather here in Briton? It seems the gods forgot this country and give it nothing but ice and snow….” Galahad laughed and shook his head again. Although the freezing nights did give a Knight the opportunity to find a welcoming partner to find warmth with!

“What else do you do with yourself dancer?” Galahad asked, trying to steer the conversation away from home which obviously seemed to be uncomfortable for Lavinia, but also trying to find out more about the young woman. As he spoke he took a step away, gently tugging on his horse’s reins and beginning to guide the animal to its stall. Looking back Galahad grinned and winked, he liked the nickname dancer, it suited Lavinia well.

[Lavinia Aquila]

Lavinia's wide eyes widened more as she took in what Galahad was saying. At first she thought he was surprised that she wanted to settle down. But she was at a marriageable age when women desire comfort and family of their own. But as she stayed silent and listened, she realized he was more concerned about the location rather than her desire. "Briton is as good a place as any and King Arthur is as good a ruler as any. I've been to many places, but only Briton can I say that I feel more at home than anyplace else." Of course home in her mind was still the villa where she was born, but she could never go back.

Lavinia smiled as she watched Galahad's dark brown curls bounce around his head. There was something boyish about him, though he was obviously somewhat older than her. She suddenly had a desire to run her long fingers through his curls and caress his cheek, but she again suppressed those desires. She found herself having to suppress a lot around the knight.

Lavinia slowly followed Galahad as he guided his horse to its stall. Her steps were slow and graceful as she made sure to stay a little ways behind him. "I sew during the day. Mending, embroidery, and clothing construction," Lavinia responded. She noticed how he called her "dancer" instead of her name and wondered exactly what that meant for him. She knew that profession was very important in knowing a person. Through profession one could know the status in society and have a general understanding of a person's personality. Lavinia was rather artistically minded. Perhaps if she was a man she would have been a great fighter. She did have a fire inside herself that sometimes longed to be released. But she did so through dancing.

"And what do you do, knight?" Lavinia responded, cocking her head to one side, a bemused smile on her face.

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[Galahad]

So she was a seamstress, quite a respectable job really. Even after all these years in Briton Galahad still struggled to sew up the tears and tatters he got in his clothing. He usually pricked himself with the damned needle, or ended up sewing the material into a big lump which would itch and stick into him. Most of the time he tried to bribe Vanora to help him using his best puppy dog eyes or promising to mind some of her children for a few hours – that usually worked! Galahad wondered if Lavinia made her own dresses, the ones she danced in. They were beautiful, the way they seemed to have a life of their own moving about her body. If she did then truly she had a remarkable talent.

Guiding his mare into her stall Galahad stopped when Lavinia asked him what he did with himself. She referred to him as Knight so surly the woman knew who he was and what he did, but if she asked then he saw no reason not to boast… at least just a little!

“I protect the fort and all its inhabitants” Galahad replied with a cheeky smirk as he stared at Lavinia’s beautiful hazel eyes. He winked and then shrugged bending down slightly to start unbuckling his saddle, “I am a Knight. I fight, I kill, I risk my life so that others may be safe.” It was simple but true.