Disclaimer: I am poor and own nothing. And because I'm poor, this is my only source of entertainment, so please do not sue.
Authors Note: This story takes place before, during and after the movie and involves everyone's (well at least my) favorite Scout. Hope you like it, and if you don't please don't flame. Just don't read it.
Roxana rode hard as her and the small band of huntress she had been riding with made it back to where their tribe had set up camp for the time, her raven black hair flowing behind her as her ocean blue eyes focused on the path ahead. Normally the sixteen year old would have still been at her husband of two years side, but since a challenge had been issued, and a Iazyge woman never backed down from a challenge, they had separated into women against the men, to see who could bring back the most food for the evening. As she looked back at all the game they had collected, a smile warmed her features. The men didn't stand a chance, and while some would be insulted at being bested by the women, she knew her husband and father would be proud of her.
When the band of eight women rode into the small village, they were shocked to see all the sad faces and tear filled eyes. Roxana quickly dismounted her horse and looked around, noticing that the men's horses had already returned. Panic rose in her throat as she gripped her sword and began to move further into the crowd. Her mother's hand gripped her by the wrist, turning Roxana to face her.
"They saw them riding and returned early," her mother whispered to her daughter, fear in her eyes. "They will be here before nightfall tomorrow."
"Whom did they see?" Roxana asked worried, unsure of what was going on.
"The Romans. They have come for them," her mother said before crushing her daughter against her in a tight embrace. "I am so sorry my child."
Roxana's stopped breathing as the reality of her mother's words set in. The covenant. They would come for the sons of the Sarmatian knights. Her husband was such a son. She pulled away from her mother and ran towards their tent, as fast as her legs would take her, bursting through the flap, breathing heavily. He stood with his back to her, packing the last of his things into a saddlebag. "Tell me it is not true," she whispered, staring at him with hope filled eyes.
He turned to face her and the sadness that flashed in his eyes was enough to confirm her mother's words. Silently she rushed into his arms, burying her face in his chest as he held her, whispering soothing nothings in their native tongue.
"They have come to steal you from me then," she whispered, holding him tighter.
"We knew this day would come," was the simple reply.
"Yet that does not make this any easier," she stated, pulling back enough to look into his eyes. "I could go with you."
"You must stay here," he shook his head.
"Who are you to tell me that I must?" she pulled away from him, glaring daggers.
"Your husband," his face was impassive but there was a smirk in his eyes.
"That does not mean you choose for me," she replied curtly, crossing her arms over her chest and turning her face from his.
He placed two fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him. "You can care for yourself, I know this. But I want you here, where you will be safer. With our people. We decided this together long ago, why do you wish to change it now?"
"It is easy to say something when the event is far off and you feel, hope, beg the Goddess, that it will never come. But now," her voice trailed off as she reached her arms up around his neck, his snaking around her waist. "How am I to fight without you by my side?"
"Same as before," he stated nuzzling her cheek and kissing just in front of her ear.
"But you have always been at my side," she murmured as he continued his way down her neck and across her collarbone.
He grinned against her skin as a small moan escaped her lips, and ran his hands slowly up her arms, taking hers and entwining their fingers together before he looked into her eyes, resting his forehead against her own. "You will find a way, as you always do My Ana, and I vow to you I will return," he kissed her lips chastely as they continued to gaze at one another.
"Best mind that promise, or I swear to all the Gods, I will hunt you down and kill you myself," she replied dreamily, reduced to putty by his touch.
"Now there's the wench I married," he grinned before his lips descended hungrily down on hers. He lifted her easily against him as she wrapped her legs around his waist he carried her to their bedding, laying her down and kissing her fervently, removing clothing as she went.
"Not that I am complaining, but shouldn't we be preparing for you to go?" she giggled, drawing lazy circles down his arms as he kissed her body.
"I am preparing. This must be enough to sate us both for the next fifteen years," he growled as he kissed her again, nibbling her lip.
She paused and grasped his head in her hands, forcing him to look at her as she ran her thumbs over the tattoos on his cheeks, the same ones adorning the undersides of each of her wrists. One given to him the day he killed for the first time and the other on the day they wed. "You cannot speak truly?" she almost whispered. She had known this day would come, and then did not expect him to hold completely true to his vow to her. So long as he did not ever love another woman she could deal with him bedding them. At least, that is what some of the other, older wives had told her.
"I vowed same as you that day. No other woman shall know my bed," he stated, turning his head and kissing her palm. "Do you plan on sharing yours?"
"Never," she stated, reaching up and kissing him deeply. "No one could ever satisfy me as you do. You complete me mind, body and spirit. No man shall ever know my touch but you."
"I love you Roxana," he murmured against her ear, moving to kiss her neck. "And know that, no matter what happens, I will return to you some way."
"And I love you Tristan," she whispered, fear gripping her heart that this may be the very last night that they ever made love.