/I don't own anything you recognize in this story. /

Prologue

--

We will never walk together over the fields of earth,

Never hear the birds in the morning.

Oh, I have lived with you and loved you

And now you are gone away,

Gone where I cannot follow

Until I finished all my days.

-Victoria Hanley, The Seer and the Sword

--

The sun shone gently over the rolling hills in the distance. It was a beautiful morning day, one that made a man whistle happily through the streets as he went on to his business, the housewife to sing to the heavens above, and the children to chase each other playfully through the dewy grass. Yet it didn't reflect the bleakness that still lay in Balian's heart.

His wife had loved the summer, loved the way the trees' branches swayed in the window and the gentle singing of the birds. But she never lived to see another summer day and it made Balian's heart break.

The pain still cut through Balian like a knife, even after nearly two years. They said time healed all wounds, but this one still cut anew every time he woke in the morning until his eyes closed at night. Nothing in the world could help ease the pain, just as nothing could bring Balian his wife back.

Balian's thoughts strayed to Sibylla as he pounded the heated metal. She was a beautiful woman, destined to be great among her people. He loved her like no other alive, but Balian knew that the woman was one that was beyond his reach. Sibylla of Jerusalem was one of power and prestige, and Balian was nothing more than a simple blacksmith, despite the fact that his father had been a powerful knight.

Balian stiffened and pounded the sword even harder. Sometimes he wished his father had never come back for him, hadn't told him of Jerusalem and his holdings there. Balian's life had been forever changed by that encounter, never to be the same again.

And now who was he now? A blacksmith, or the son of a powerful knight? Balian could argue both, but he only wanted the simplest life that could be offered, nothing more. But fate had other plans for him despite Balian's misgivings.

The pounding of hooves could be heard outside and Balian put his anvil down, wiping off the sweat that formed on his forehead. More customers, as it seemed and Balian had enough work on his hands as it was.

Stepping outside, Balian instantly knew these were no ordinary customers. They were soldiers, and ones from Jerusalem, or so it would seem. They were probably looking for him, and that didn't make Balian feel any better.

"We crusade to recover the kingdom of Jerusalem," one of the men on horseback exclaimed confidently.

Balian walked carefully towards them, wiping his hands gently on a piece of cloth. "Go till the men speak Italian and continue until they speak something else."

A second man urged his horse foreword, his presence showing an air of great power. "We come along this road to find Balian of Ibelin, who defended Jerusalem against the Sarcacens."

Balian fought the urge to roll his eyes. They probably wanted him to help in another crusade against the city, to try and recover what was once theirs. But Balian wanted none of it.

"I am a blacksmith," Balian answered the man carefully, trying to imply what he truly wanted.

"And I am the king of England," the man replied back.

Balian shook his head. "I am a blacksmith."

The man laughed loudly and slid off his horse, handing the reins to one of his men. "Do you think this wise, boy, refusing one of the most powerful men in the world. I could have you beheaded for your tyranny."

"I serve no man, my lord," Balian replied. "I only serve what is good and right in this world."

"Noble words, those," the king said. "And why not serve what is good and right in this world by coming with me and reclaiming our own?"

"Slaughtering millions and destroying lives for a material city is not what I consider good and right," Balian stated.

The king chuckled. "And what of Sibylla of Jersualem, would you abandon her to her fate?"

"And what is her fate, sir?" Balian asked, knowing he had fallen into a trap.

Richard chuckled. "Death, if she is lucky at all. Her husband had been killed in the fighting and who knows what will happen to her now."

Balian sighed, his hand tracing his moustache mindlessly. It was a double edged sword, and he didn't know what to do. If he stayed here, he would risk leaving Sibylla vulnerable to the monsters of the world, but if he went, he would be at the whim of his superiors. And which one would be worse?

Finally, Balian looked up into the king's eyes. "I will go to Jerusalem to see Sibylla. But don't think for a moment I have yet made my decision."

The king nodded, satisfied with the man's answer. "We will come for you in the morning, then."

Without another word, he climbed back up on his horse and urged away from the blacksmith's shop, disappearing into the distance. Balian watched them leave, a million thoughts running through his mind. What would it be like to see Sibylla again? Would she still love him? Or would she resent the man who refused her?

Balian sighed and turned back to his smithy. There would be only one way to find out and he would get there in time. If only his choices were simpler.

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Author's Note: I know it probably isn't historically accurate, but I needed something to create a story. So please don't shoot me don't just yet. Even the movies twist some things around to make the movies work.

I had to write this story because it has been running around my head for a while and I needed to write it for my own sake. Despite the historical accuracy, I hope everybody enjoyed it so far and I'll update as soon as I can. Don't forget to review, it makes the writer happy!