Title: Unsatisfied

Universe: Ironclad (2011) – Starring James Purefoy, Kate Mara, Brian Cox, Paul Giamatti

Acknowledgments: I do not own Ironclad or any of the characters. That honor is held by the writers, director (who also contributed to the story) and the following Powers That Be: VIP, Medienfonds 4, Rising Star, Silver Reel, Premiere Picture, The Wales Creative IP Fund, ContentFilm International, Molinare, Perpetual Media Capital, Mythic International Entertainment. I'd also like to thank God and his parents (James' not God's ;-) for giving James to the world. I'm sure James deserves some of the credit too.

Rating: T, for heavy petting and mention of lovemaking.

Author's Note: If you haven't seen the James Purefoy movie 'Ironclad' you really must. I first became a fan of Purefoy's through the Heath Ledger movie 'A Knight's Tale' (a must see movie for any Purefoy fan, though he doesn't get much screen time.) Another favorite of mine is George and the Dragon, with James as the lead. (This is another must watch, it's fun and a bit campy and makes several blatant references to other movie favorites. You have to watch it to find out which ones.) Also, for those of us who are already Sean Bean fans and have watched his 'Sharpe's' movies a gazillion times; Purefoy has a rather large role in 'Sharpe's Sword'. (I've only discovered that he played Captain Jack Spears. I've added it to my Purefoy collection in addition to the Sean Bean list it already occupied.) As to the movie: I have to warn you, Ironclad is Gory! For those of you like me who are weak against much bloodletting, I suggest you don't look at the screen for the fight scenes. It's easy to avoid, once the clinking and clanging is over then come the quieter moments. These are the ones to which you want to pay close attention. I call this fan fiction 'Unsatisfied' because that's how I felt after watching the movie. James Purefoy is unbelievable, both with the sword and in the more romantic moments of the film. I don't know the original actress who played Isabel, but I'm so glad Kate Mara took her place. The scenes that pass between her and Purefoy just staring at each other are enough to send the hormones into overdrive (or is that just me?). I rented this movie on Netflix and liked Purefoy's character enough to buy the film. I just wish they had played up the romance more. Added all up, the scenes probably aren't even 20 minutes of the whole film. If I knew how to make a movie montage for you tube I would. I was frustrated, to say the least, that there were no fan fictions of Ironclad. Unsatisfied that I couldn't find any FF's about any of Purefoy's many roles. As I don't watch anything to do with Serial killers, I can't seek satisfaction in what FF's for 'The Following' there might be. Therefore, I decided to write this piece. I know my love scene leaves a bit to be desired as well, but I try not to be too graphic. This is my take on Thomas' unaddressed back-story in the film, an answer if you will as to why he'd joined the Templars to begin with and why he struggled so hard to look at, let alone touch Isabel. I hope this inspires many of you to watch the movie and even more to write fan fictions. I'd write more myself, but I'm trying to concentrate on writing more original stories now than fan fiction. Though it's a much more exciting universe to play in, it doesn't pay the rent. To my fans: I will eventually get around to writing the ff's I've already promised.{Spoiler Alert} I took a little creative license with my fan fiction and had Baron de Cornhill commit suicide before Thomas and Isabel sleep together, though that isn't how it happened in the film.

IRONCLAD***James Purefoy***IRONCLAD***James Purefoy***IRONCLAD

Unsatisfied

by

Vani Joy Dotson

He couldn't take his eyes off her. The lady of the manor, wife of another man. He hadn't wanted anyone like he wanted her. As a Templar Knight, he'd been told never to look at a woman. According to the Order, looking was a sin. If it was a sin, then there had never been a greater sinner since Adam was thrown out of the Garden.

Thomas Marshall didn't only look, but he wanted her. He wanted her like he'd never wanted anything before in his life. He knew coveting another man's property was also a sin. He'd never envied anyone more than he envied Baron de Cornhill. The man was old enough to be her grandfather, but he was her husband.

Lady Isabel, beautiful, lovely Isabel. He told himself he could look, but he must not touch. He couldn't avoid her completely. He'd seek refuge in the barn trying to find tasks to keep his mind off her. Yet she was always there like a wound that continued to fester. If only she knew what she did to him.

Maybe she did. Perhaps that's why she was always popping up at his elbow just when he thought his mind was free of her. He couldn't blame her want for attention. She knew the day she married De Cornhill that hers was doomed to be a loveless marriage.

Had the man even gone to her bed on their wedding night? That was debatable. The Baron seemed more concerned with the company he kept rather than fulfilling the needs of his wife. Still, Thomas wouldn't touch another man's property. He continued to look, but not touch. God forgive his damned soul if looking really was a sin.

He had begun to doubt his faith when he learned that the pope supported a despotic king. To be honest, he had begun to doubt his faith long before he returned home from the Holy Land. He couldn't help but call into question the religion that recognized a man capable of such horrors. The bloodshed he'd participated in during the Crusades seemed small and insignificant compared the atrocities he'd witnessed firsthand at Darnay Castle by the King's own command.

His faith already shaken, it was no wonder that Thomas was so weak when it came to Isabel. That it was a mutual attraction there was no doubt. Yet… Thomas had his own personal code of honor, even before he'd joined the Templers. A code of chivalry.

One gleaned from the books he'd read as a child in the house of the woman who'd raised him; held him prisoner more like. The woman had taught him more than just reading and writing, she had taught him the ways of a man with a woman. She had summoned him to her chambers more than once throughout his stay; another reason he refused to touch another man's wife. Thomas' only escape was when he joined the Templers.

Taken from his home as a youth, he was raised by another in order to keep his father from taking up arms against the family that held young Thomas captive. Such politics weren't unusual in that day and age. Even Isabel's marriage had been a political one, a way for the Baron to secure more land and therefore more power. He cared little for his young wife or his duty to her as her husband. Apparently, the Baron cared more about amassing wealth than producing an heir.

If only Thomas had known what awaited him at Rochester Castle, he wouldn't have agreed to follow Baron William d'Aubigny. Rochester Castle was the keystone John needed to retake his lands from the Barons who had forced him to sign the Magna Carta. Baron d'Aubigny meant to hold the castle until help arrived. An uncertain gamble, to be sure, but if they lost, England herself would be led astray by the evil King John. Even now, John and the Danish Mercenaries he'd hired waited to lay siege to the castle.

Although Thomas had tried to keep his mind only on things pertaining to the ensuing war, he couldn't keep his mind off Isabel. She haunted his dreams, tortured his waking hours with thoughts of her. Her heavenly scent as she cleaned a small cut on his neck after their first conflict with John's men. Her sweet voice as she asked him questions about Templar laws. That innocent smile that turned up the corner of her mouth when she caught him staring.

Thomas had fought long and hard to keep himself untainted. Then the Baron De Cornhill had lost his nerve and hung himself in his bedchambers. Isabel had found him and it was her cry to which Thomas and the others had come running. He had been ready to defend her to the death, even if he couldn't attain her.

Rather than turn to her handmaid for comfort, Thomas had found Isabel in his arms. Then he found himself alone with her in her bedchamber, unaware how he'd even gotten there. Still in his embrace, Isabel had required of him something else. Unwilling to deny their attraction any longer, she had silently asked for his touch.

Caught up in the moment and unable to hold back any longer, Thomas had given in to his desire to taste, to touch, to feel. But just as he felt Isabel's hand on his chest, heard her soft moans begging to be nearer to him, he'd been reminded of the past and had pushed her away.

His sponsor had taught him much in the ways of lovemaking, but he had not gone willing to her bed; not at first. He'd even imagined himself in love with her once, until she'd found a new toy to play with. Heartbroken, as well as feeling used and betrayed, he'd fled for the safety of the Templers and the thought of certain death in glorious battle.

He wanted to believe that Isabel was different. That hers was a love as innocent as his own. Unwilling to give up on her completely, he looked over his shoulder at her. Could he believe that she wouldn't hurt him as his one and only lover had in the past?

As if sensing his uncertainty, Isabel hitched up her skirts offering herself to him on his terms. Oh, how he wanted her! Slowly, he turned back to face her. Shy and insecure because of his 20-year abstinence, Thomas approached the object of his desire.

Isabel seemed as awkward and uncertain as he was. It gave him hope. He reached out for her and clumsily pulled her close. He suddenly felt all thumbs, as he didn't know what he wanted to experience first. His hand that remained behind her, hugged the small of her back.

With his other hand, he reached out to caress her face, while she remained perfectly still; afraid of scaring him off again. Feeling her cheek, so soft and smooth; her warmth so ready and willing to be touched by him, made Thomas forget his past experiences until there was nothing left but the two of them. He leaned his head down to find her mouth, not closing his eyes until the last moment.

He nearly missed the mark, but his second attempt didn't. His first impression was correct, she tasted sweet. Not because of the wine she'd drunk earlier that day, but the very taste of her was intoxicating.

Effortlessly, Thomas remembered what he was supposed to do and deepened the kiss. Isabel gave of herself willingly to him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Reveling in the moment, Thomas took his time in discovering everything about her.

When mere touching and tasting was no longer enough, he slowly undid her clothes and laid her upon the bed. Divesting himself also of his encumbrances, he climbed into bed beside her. Silently, he asked her blessing to continue. Smiling up at him, she pulled him down on top of her. Taking his time so as not to hurt her, Thomas made love to Isabel. This time he was the willing teacher rather than the reluctant pupil.

Thomas rose early the next morning and got dressed, knowing that John wouldn't wait until Thomas had his fill of Isabel. Not that his need for her could ever be satiated. Yet as he stood over her, he couldn't help the smile that spread across his features. Then and there, he made a vow to God that if he saw them through the battle that he would take Isabel for his wife and love her all his days. It wasn't long afterwards that the alarm was sounded and Thomas joined in the fray.

Just when hope seemed lost, help came, the enemy routed. Only three survivors walked out of the castle to greet the Archbishop, who had arrived just in time with the new King of England. Thomas nodded to the French Prince who would rule their lands, drew Isabel onto his horse, and said his farewells to d'Aubigny's young squire, Guy; who proved himself braver than he himself knew.

After getting a release of his debt to the Order from the Archbishop, Thomas rode off towards his father's lands. He would introduce Isabel to his family, take her as his wife, and give her lots of children. He knew he would never be content only to look. From then on, he wouldn't let Isabel out of arm's reach and never again would she go to bed unsatisfied.