What If…
Written By immortalwizardpirateelf-fan
M-Romance"Action"Adventure-English
Disclaimer: I do not own the copyright for King Arthur or any recognizable celebrity or fictional personality, not of my creation, depicted in the movie or this fic. They belong to either their inventors or themselves. I do not own the settings, and any songs used belong to their original artist.
Author's Note: To let you know I love reviews. And I'd appreciate having anyone and everyone review. Any comments, questions, suggestions, requests and constructive criticism (If I wrote something wrong or got something in the canon wrong, let me know and tell me how I can fix it) are welcome. Remember the more you review, the more I write.
bold memories"dreams"premonitions
'italics' thoughts
"underline" Woad language
"speak" Latin
"speak" Sarmatian
"speak" Briton
"speak" Saxon
Reference Note: Any references to Wicca and its practices are thanks to the research I did using the following books:
Conway, CJ. Celtic Magic. St. Paul: Llewellyn Publications, 2004.
Conway, CJ. Wicca: The Compete Craft. USA: The Crossing Press, 2001.
Sabrina, Lady. Exploring Wicca. Franklin Lakes: New Page Books, 2001.
PROLOGUE
Historians agree that the classical 15th century tale of King Arthur and his Knights rose from a real hero who lived a thousand years earlier in a period often called the Dark Ages. Recently discovered archeological evidence sheds light on his true identity.
By 300 AD, the Roman Empire extended from Arabia to Britain. But they wanted more. More land. More people's loyalty and subservient to Rome. But no people so important as the powerful Sarmatians to the east. Thousands died in that field. And when the smoke cleared on the fourth
day, the only Sarmatian soldiers left alive were members of the decimated but legendary cavalry.
The Romans, impressed by their bravery and horsemanship, spared their lives. In exchange, these warriors were incorporated into the Roman military. Better they had died that day...For the second part of the bargain they struck, indebted not only themselves... but also their sons. And their sons and so on, to serve the Roman Empire as Knights.
Their post was Britain – or at least the southern half. For the land was divided by a seventy-three mile wall, built three centuries before them, to protect the empire from the native fighters of the North.
So, as their forefathers had done, they made their way and reported to their Roman commander in Britain – ancestrally named for the first, Artorius – or, Arthur.
CHAPTER 1
452 C.E.1
The plains were dry and bare as two horses and their riders rode over the plains. One of the riders, a boy, looked to be about 16 years old and had shoulder length dark brown hair that was decorated with a couple braids framing his face, tanned skin, athletically built body, and a tattoo on each cheek. He also had expressive brown eyes and the beginnings of a beard and moustache on his face. He was tall too, nearly six feet in height.
The other rider, a girl around the same age as the boy had waist length auburn-brown hair that was plaited down her back, lightly tanned skin, a slightly built body (thinks of a ballet dancer), grey eyes and rose-colored lips. She was tall for a woman, standing at five feet seven inches. She positively towered over her younger siblings, and at times, even her mothers.
Spying something in the distance, they stopped looking around and ignored the scenery surrounding them as their gaze rested on a group of riders in Roman Armor riding towards their little village. The Romans had come to collect…once again… on the blood contract made over 100 years ago.
The girl scowled and turned towards the boy, determination, anger, hope, and desperation on her face. "You are not leaving without me husband," she told him in no uncertain terms.
The boy threw her an amused look. "I am not am I?" he teased.
She nodded. "Correct, who else will watch your back, and save your sorry arse when you get into trouble," she grinned.
The boy shook his head, his passive expression still on his face. "As you wish my love," he told her.
"Well now that that's settled Tristan, let us go meet these Roman bas…I mean soldiers," the girl corrected herself as she urged her horse into a gallop. Tristan narrowed his eyes and urged his horse into a gallop as well and followed his wife back to the village.
Tristan soon caught up with his wife and as his horse ran astride hers, he grabbed her around her waist and quickly moved her from her horse to his so that she was seated in front of him. She looked up at him, a look of fond exasperation on her face and in her eyes. "Tristan…" she said exasperated.
He chuckled slightly. "You can't get away from me for long Sha'ri," he told his wife. The girl, Sha'ri, rolled her eyes and nestled into Tristan's embrace as they rode into the village.
As they rode in, they were met by both their families. Their parents and sisters knew that if Tristan was to be called up, there was no way that Sha'ri would let him go without her.
The young couple dismounted, and was about to make their way to their tent to pack their things when Sha'ri's mother, Arianna, asked worriedly, "What is wrong? We did not expect you all back for another fortnight."
Tristan and Sha'ri looked at one another before coming to a quick decision and then turning to their family. Sighing, Sha'ri spoke, "The Romans have come for Tristan."
Shocked gasps and loud protests rang through the crowd.
"But…But you two were just married," Tristan's mother, Cordelia (named after the Goddess of summer) said stunned.
"We know mother," Tristan sighed, "but there is nothing that were can do."
Tristan's father, Connor, was about to speak when a Roman officer rode into town. Everyone stopped talking and stared angrily at the Roman, who looked uncomfortable under such scrutiny.
After a few more moments of uncomfortable silence, the officer spoke up. "My name is Cladius and I am a General in the Roman Army," he announced as if it were to mean something to the crowd, "I need the boys who are between the ages eight and eighteen, and whose fathers served for Rome. Now!" he barked out.
Tristan, Sha'ri and two other boys stepped forward. Tristan wrapped an arm around Sha'ri's waist and she in turn leaned into his embrace, her knives hanging off her waist. The Roman looked at Sha'ri in shock before an angry, but slightly amused look crossed his face as he dismounted from his horse. He walked over, stood in front of Sha'ri, and asked, "What do you think you're doing girl? There's no use for girls in the army. Go back to your mother."
Anger flashed in Sha'ri's grey eyes, darkening them to nearly black in color. "I am not letting my husband leave without me. So you better get used to the idea Roman," she spat the last word out as if it dirtied her mouth just to say it.
The Roman's eyes nearly bugged out. No one said anything about the boys they were ordered to be bringing to Britannia possibly being married or betrothed. Squashing his anger at the way this…demoness, yes that was a good word to describe her, treated him he looked at the three boys who were standing in front of him and realized that the boys were only nine, thirteen and the oldest was sixteen. Therefore, he assumed that the sixteen-year-old was her husband.
He did not have time to deal with this. If he didn't let the girl go there was going to be a huge problem…one that resulted in him…dying a most painful death. Of that he was certain by the determined look in the eyes of the crowd. It was also going to be a problem if Rome found out about it as well.
He sighed, this was going to be a…no it needn't be a problem if no one knew about it. Yes, that was the way to do it. He would order the three other men who were there to help him to be sworn to secrecy. And if anyone did say anything, he could claim he didn't want to get killed, as he went alone into the village, which was peaceably cooperating…even if they didn't like it. Yes, that's exactly what he would do.
He looked back at the young couple and said sternly, "Look, I am putting my neck on the line here for you…but you, milady, can come along," shifting his glance so he was looking and talking to the other two boys as well he ordered them to get their things packed.
Half an hour later, as everyone was mounting their horses, The youngest boy, Galahad, looked at the Roman and asked, "Where are we going and how long are we going to be there?"
The Roman looked at Galahad sternly before answering with a gruff, "You're going to Britain and your length of service is going to be fifteen years."
"Fifteen years?" the blond thirteen year old said softly, "We'll not be home for another fifteen years?"
Sha'ri looked back at the younger boy, Gareth, and plastered a smile to her face. "Don't worry Gareth, I'm sure the time will pass quickly, you'll see."
Gareth looked at Sha'ri and tried to return her smile. She had always treated him and his brother Galahad as if they were her own younger brothers. He'd be wrong if he said he didn't appreciate her offered comfort. She was like an older sister to him and Galahad
Tristan and Sha'ri looked at one another and shared a glance that showed they were thankful to have one another and not be separated for a decade and a half.
Three months later the group of travel-worn men/boys and one pregnant female finally arrived in the port on the Island of Britain. Moreover, they were about to meet their commander, a man named Artorius Castus, also known as Arthur.
(1) C.E. stand for Common (or Christian) Era