Winter Wildflowers

Chapter 11

Day 135

Despite Knightley's surprise attack being unwanted, and quite frankly startling, Ofelia had started to grow accustomed to them. As they battled, day by day, slowly he weeded out the repetitive routine swings and jabs, and the more it felt like dancing. The more Ofelia battled him, the more she realised how much she would never achieve his mastery of the sword. He handled it as a dancer and ribbon, it flowed through the air, twirled, and fluttered through the sky. In contrast, Ofelia's developing style grew closer to that of a wild animal. Growling, barking, shaking, then a snap. She noted that, though her aim had well improved, she lacked grace. Knightley either hadn't seemed to notice or had figured that it was not of great importance. Ofelia still intended to improve it.
Ofelia also dwelled upon his unfathomable intentions, how his actions spoke differently to his words. He truly did intend on marrying her, using her as a vessel for his offspring, but with the anger and abuse she had endured, how did he expect her to comply? Even if she had, the harshness inflicted on her body would most likely leave her infertile. A man of his significance must know that. She ground her teeth.
She would simply run away when she arrived at the mainland, she decided. She would lace her armour in meat and leave it for the wild dogs, and swiftly disappear as though she was eaten alive. Or maybe she would tell the preacher of all his ungodly deeds and the preacher wouldn't permit them a marriage. Maybe, she would even entertain the idea for a little while, to seem realistic, then leave him stranded at the altar. He wouldn't be able to keep a watch on her whilst trapped on the alter. Ofelia looked up to his back, he lazily watched the road ahead of them as they travelled. She clenched her jaw.

"Gypsies!", The eldest of the men called out as they neared the end of a long travelling day. Ofelia carelessly glanced up, spotting them to her left. They danced through the forest, women dancing barefoot in the frosted grass, shimmering tambourines in hands, singing wind instruments in others. A slight smile graced Ofelia's lip. It had been long since she'd heard music beyond a drunkard's sloppy jeer. At once all the men began to store their belongings in their steed's pockets, clicking them shut and placing their hands on their hilts.
Ofelia simply walked. She didn't have anything for them, it was a small possibly that they'd want her sword, but she doubted they'd lack the intelligence to try to steal the weapon.
The singing women neared, dancing as they did, interrupting Knightley's travels in a flurry of colourful fabrics, trinkets, and braids. Ofelia laughed, gaining a woman's attention. With a titter, she began to sway her way, dancing as she did. They sung in harmony, their voices mingling with their chimes and drumming. These women didn't speak Ofelia's language, their tongues sounded quicker and they pronounced sounds in a way Ofelia hadn't heard before. She watched the woman, laughing. The woman then took her arm and twirled her with her, Ofelia let the woman lead, swaying her skirt to and fro.
Knightley grumbled and sighed, leaning back on his horse to share an irritated look with his leading men. He then dipped his hand deep into a pouch and retrieved a small bag of coins, tossing a small number to the ground.
Ofelia frowned at him. Eagerly, a woman snatched it up before continuing her dancing. They lingered for a little while, scoring a few extra coins before detaching from Knightley's men and dancing off into the forest. Ofelia watched them, her heart strangely tight.
"Gypsies.", Ansley grumbled, shoving a little bag back into a satchel.
Ofelia continued to watch them disappear into the forest and as the men kicked their steeds back into action, she hesitated on following, a sudden mistiness glazing her eyes.
They were so beautiful. The music, the dancing, the femininity. How she missed such parts of her previous life. She swallowed and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her gown. She had been so numb, so drowned in a gruff, harsh, aggressive world that she had forgotten what women were like. What she was like only a few months prior. She glanced to her hands.
"Get a move on, lady!"
She slowly leant into her walk before shaking her head and jogging to catch up.