Chapter Two: Two Knights and a lot of Stomach Somersaults

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The full moon fled to the cover of the clouds as the darkness of night settled at last, a slow, calm freeze now brushing the earth soothingly. An owl hooted in the background, loud and close to the presence of Jon Cow and Catherine Tadpole, both of whom were now coming to a close with the horse riding training; midnight had arrived and so a good rest was in store for them considering the journey ahead.

“We were supposed to set off tonight, in all honesty, you know,” Catherine mumbled, trying not to sound too desperate. She observed the young boy hop off of the horse and join her stand amongst the soggy soil. “We’ll be hours behind schedule. Let’s just hope you’re a quick learner…” She flashed a smile to him, leaving much to be adored.

“You won’t be disappointed.” Jon reassured her, slipping an arm around her wintry shoulders, brushing the straw-hair out of the way. Catherine gave an unnerved shudder, but he refused to move. “Where’s my room, by the way? Owl said she’d find me a room.”

“Marly also has several traits in common with a drunk…” Catherine said, pulling away from Jon’s friendly grasp. She may have felt warmer with him against her but the goosebumps she’d received in the process were just as chilly in their own sense.

She shot into a power walk towards the army of tents. The two of them were many metres out into the distance, by themselves. Declining to stick around by himself or leave her, Jon followed suit, quickly catching up to her.

“Uh… True! S-so where do I stay tonight?” He stuttered, fearful the previous action taken had rattled his friend.

“Hmm… We could request a free tent – doubt there is any free, though… But they can’t refuse…” Catherine sighed, halting and turning back to the curly haired boy. Stop acting like this… “Or—“

Jon’s ears perked up in an interested manner. “Or…?” He blinked.

A bubble of air rose in Catherine’s heart and she froze, staring him directly in the eyes. Damn, damn! “O-or… You— you could sleep in the stables with the horses…” She nodded, the voice at the back of her mind ushering her on. “…And you could pick one you found compatible for the journey!” Catherine laughed to herself nervously, making it seem loud enough for a little joke. She turned around, striding unswervingly in the direction of her tent. Damn… Damn…

The walk almost lead her to be short of breath from the speed she was travelling at – especially in the tear-freezing weather. Silence entwined the spirit between Catherine and Jon until the pavilion came into arms length, when the two knights brought themselves to a standstill beside one another. They looked at each other closely, as if searching for some secret or lie well hidden beneath the depths of the liquid-convinced pupils.

“Don’t worry,” Jon began; his voice slightly shaken. “I’ll find Marly. Thanks for the training. I’ll put it to good use…” He studied her pale face one more time before giving up, and each muttered their farewells before departing.

Catherine watched after him and exhaled a great heap of stressed breath. Why do you act like that around him? She thought, shaking her head and brushing the long strands of hair from her face. She returned to her own personal camping tent, relieved of any unnecessary moves Jon had further to make on her.

Inside glowed with an ominous green, thanks to the moons radiant light in the enriched, navy sky. She zipped the front door up and landed herself down on a stood by the provided sleeping bag. It wasn’t much, or anything even remotely luxurious, but she put up with it… After all, tomorrow was the last tedious day anyone would have to spend at this campsite.

There was just enough light for the blonde haired assistant to see her hand vaguely, as she moved into a cross-legged position on the sleek sleeping bag.

“Hmm, travelling with Jon will be different… I hope he doesn’t think I am his slave…” She shifted her eyes about suspiciously in fear of someone eavesdropping. “…The normal kind of slave, that is. I’d be his other slave any day—!” She coughed, noticing her speech reached a note a tad too loud.

Picking herself up, she motioned over to a little bag and pulled a small white candle and a hand full of matches out, returning to her spot on the “bed”. She fumbled around clumsily in the dim illumination of the moon, eventually managing to light it and placed it down on the floor beside her, praying it wouldn’t fall.

“Catherine! —Are you there?”

Catherine jumped a mile out of her skin, clutching at the linen cloth that was, figuratively, her heart.

“Cath—?” The entrance unzipped to bring characterisation to blisteringly cold winds and a red faced Jon. “There you are!”

She blinked, holding the quilts around her bare arms desperately. The candle flicked insanely, licking at the air and just as it went out, seemed to hiss in great discomfort, thus shrouding the two in darkness once again.

“I’m sorry – uh…” Jon muttered apologetically. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, just hurry.” Jon quickly shut the front part of the camping shelter and stopped dead, noting the scene before him seemed slightly questionable. “What’s wrong, Jon?”

“Did I thank you for the training?” The knight in training laughed jokingly to himself. The sight of Catherine lying beneath the covers caused his stomach to flip, but she remained situated in the same way… Seemingly enjoying the young boys discomfort. Is this her strange idea of revenge? He wouldn’t be surprised if she pulled a guy out from underneath the duvet any time soon. He blinked. Okay, maybe I would.

“No, really, what’s wrong?” She gave a concerned expression, demanding utter seriousness. He supposed to sudden breach into her domain hadn’t exactly left her in the most pleasant of moods.

“Well, Marly said there are no free rooms. I need an – um… Roommate, she says.” An awkward silence followed. “…She probably knows there are rooms left; she’s just having me on.” He winked suggestively. Damn you idiot! He thought, giving himself a strict, mental slap. Bad thing to say…

Catherine raised an eyebrow in horror, but chose to ignore Jon’s latter remark. “Well you can’t sleep in here!” She then smiled. “Mr Smith, next door, will let you in, though.”

“Hah, I wasn’t asking to sleep in here!” Jon retorted; he seemed to brighten from his unusual frenzy of stuttered sentences. “But yeah… Goodnight…” He turned to leave, his footsteps causing high-pitched ‘scrunching’ sounds against the material of the tent, but seemed to risk a halt at the door. He looked back at the frame of the assistant Knight and smiled, receiving a warm smile back from her. “And thanks.”

“’Night,” Catherine whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear, and with no further ado, the cause of her enormous stomach somersaults was gone. “He’s beginning to scare me…”

She hummed to herself, pulling the quilt over herself fully and resting her head down on the rock hard pillow. An owl hooted from far away, sending a whirl of goosebumps up the young woman’s arms. She shut her eyes slowly, taking note of the candles silence and slept.

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