Okie dokie…new ff here. I know I have one going and a Troy fic, but this came to me and I had to put it down. I am actually quite pleased where this is going and thought I would get all your wonderful thoughts.
So this is post movie and of course, all the Knights live. I do not own anything associated with the movie King Arthur since I do make references to it, so anything you recognize, not mine.
Just thought I would let you all know, I, do not own Finchad mac Garrchon, he was actually a King of Leinster who died in 485 nor do I own Coirpre mac Neil who was the King of Tara. He killed King Finchad in 485. Not that it applies to my story, but thought I would letcha know. Other than those names, my story is not historically accurate, sorry if that bothers some.
Keela, (kee-la), Derived from the word "cadhla" meaning "beautiful"
Raging colours of blue, red, yellow and green danced across the stone floor, the floating dust motes glimmering with colour, as rays from the shinning sun burst through the stained glass window creating an almost majestic appearance. Despite the beauty of it all, the room was tense and silent as the two men shifted uncomfortably in their seats while they watched the distraught woman before them, her beautiful features contorted in pain, her eyes slowly appearing lifeless and her poise deflating.
Keela swallowed the lump that was forming deep within her throat and tried to will the tears away. Taking a deep breath, she sucked up the inevitable and squared her shoulders, standing tall and confident as she was taught. "When?" she asked lowly, her voice defeated and at the same time dejected.
"We leave at first light," her father replied dryly, a slight frown forming on his aged features as he watched his daughter.
Keela could only nod, her voice sure to crack if she even thought of forming words. She had never hated her father nor thought ill of him, but at this moment she could honestly say that she did. She had screamed at him like a banshee, stopped talking to him for weeks and even thrown a childish fit, but despite all her attempts, he would not budge…she was being forced to marry.
Fallon stood from his place next to his father and took tentative steps towards his twin. Her face had become unreadable as she stood as tall and proud as she always did. It was her eyes that were betraying the emotions that were wrecking havoc on her body. "Sister, I understand this—."
Keela clenched her fists to prevent herself from striking her brother. "You really don't," she hissed through gritted teeth cutting him off. How could he even think to speak such words to her? He was a man and therefore automatically blessed with the right to live his own life in anyway he saw fit. She once again cursed the male gender. It was their narrow-minded thinking that decided they had the right to dictate and rule women's lives as if they were cattle. Whoever came up with that decision better pray to whomever it is that they pray to that they never meet her or they will certainly be having a very intimate discussion with her swords. Yes, a very intimate discussion indeed she vowed to herself in an attempt to distract her thoughts from the present issue.
Fallon sighed and turned to his father, his eyes pleading with the older man to reconsider. King Finchad shook his head sadly in response to his son's look and rose from his throne taking quick steps towards his fuming daughter. She and Fallon were all he had in the world to remind him of their mother and he hated to do this to her, despite what she thought. "Daughter, Sir Lancelot is an admirable warrior, a strong man and will take care of you. He is King Arthur's first Knight and next in the line for the throne until a heir is provided. It is a formidable match," he reasoned in another lame attempt to try and ease her pain. He knew by the look in his daughter's eyes that she couldn't care less, the man could be a pig farmer or a God and she wouldn't care. That was one thing that made her so special. She loved everyone and anyone regardless of the blood that flowed through their veins, the position or status one held in life or the colour of your skin it made no difference to her. It was one's actions and words that she based her opinions on.
Keela raised an eyebrow at her father before furrowing her brow in anger. "Do you think that matters? Do you think that makes this any easier?" she hissed, her voice raising as each word left her mouth. "Have you heard the tales of him, hmmm?" she questioned her finger pointed in her father's chest. He had heard and he only hopped that the man would learn to love her as everyone else did.
"He is a lover of woman. Uses them to suite his own pleasures then tosses them aside to move onto something better," she was yelling now, tears welling in her eyes as she vented. She had heard plenty about the great Knights of the Round Table, how honourable they were, but she still couldn't believe she was being forced to marry the one with the worst reputation. She could have handled it if he was quite and bloodthirsty like the scout, but a man who loved woman merely for the pleasure they brought him was too much for her. She didn't know what he looked like or anything of the sort. If he was a womanizing pig that must mean he was pleasing to the eyes…Right? She did know that he had never been bested in battle, wielding twin swords as if extended limbs. That was something and so far the only thing she found interesting.
King Finchad sighed and shook his head sadly, doing his best to push aside his doubts about the Knight in that regard. He really didn't have a choice. "I know this is difficult, but you are doing this for the good of your people. Would you rather I send you off to marry Garvan?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. He knew when her shoulders slumped he had won the argument. This was hurting him as much as it was her. But he had faith in the infamous Knight; at least that was what he had made himself believe. Lancelot may love woman but he also had an unwavering reputation of honour and was a fierce warrior. He would take care of his beloved daughter, and if not, well...he had made it quite clear to the King of Britain that he wouldn't hesitate to place the man's head on a spit should Lancelot break her heart or harm her in anyway. Only he and Arthur knew of the threat and he knew that was enough.
Fallon had his own qualms with the Knight. It was really quite simple in his mind, he would trust his father's judgment but if the man broke his sister's heart or harmed her in anyway shape or form, he was going to kill him. With those thoughts and the sight of tears in her beautiful eyes, he wrapped his arms around his sister and held her as she clung to him and cried, an emotion very few ever saw. This was torture for him as well. A part of him, a large part, his other half in fact, was being ripped away from him. They were twins and had never been apart for long periods of time. They did everything together, literally, and he was going to miss her to the point where he knew he was going to be physically sick. "I am sure you will learn to love him as mother did father," he cooed, his large calloused hands weaving through her golden curls in an attempt to sooth her, and himself for that matter.
King Finchad just stood there and watched his children embrace. They were a blessing from the Gods for he could not have asked for better children. "Keela," he addressed softly, his large hand pulling her shoulder away from Fallon so he could see her.
Keela took a deep breath and turned away from Fallon and looked at her father. The man who had raised her indifferent to the fact she was a woman, gave her all the liberties and freedom of a man, until now.
"The world is an unfair place and unfortunately we are all pawns in it. I am sorry you are a victim of your times," his voice was gentle and soft, one only saved for his children, as he pushed a stray curl over her shoulder and gazed at her with fatherly love. "But you my daughter are strong, brave, and beautiful in all ways that count. You make us proud and will continue to do so," he praised, stopping to wipe a tear that was slowly cascading down her delicate cheek. "I hate to do this too you, but it is either him or Garvan and I would rather walk on hot coals than see you marry that barbarian," his voice dripping with hatred at the very mention of Garvan. He shuddered as he thought of his Keela being in the fowl man's arms and instantly reached out to pull her close knowing that he had made the right choice.
Garvan was the son of King mac Neil of Tara, a rising clan that was no better than Saxon's in Keela's opinion. Garvan was just like his father: crude, selfish, arrogant and the very definition of evil. There were rumours that King mac Neil was planning on invading Britain and Keel knew that was the main reason for the alliance. Keela's clan was not only the largest but the closest to the British shores and her father shared a relationship with the former Woad leader, Merlin. They had always been close allies and now with the new King, Merlin had thought it best to form a real alliance and in order to do that, it had to be through marriage. Since Arthur allied the Woads by marrying their Princess, the next to the throne was to marry.
Keela straightened herself as she pulled away from her father and sucked in a deep breath to clear her mind. She will make her father, her family and her people proud. She understood her duty but it didn't mean she had to like it, a point she was going to make very clear. "I understand father but I still don't like it. I can not guarantee I will love the man but I will try…anything is better than Garvan. If you say he is honourable then I believe you," she said softly trying to convince herself more than anything.
King Finchad beamed at his daughter and pulled her to him again, kissing her hair as he held her in their home one last time.
Lancelot wouldn't look at any of them and continued to have a new found fascination with the silver goblet clutched far to tightly in his calloused hand, his jaw clenched and muscles twitching in an attempt to keep the raging demon at bay while the others discussed his future.
Arthur shifted nervously in his seat as he glanced at a seething Lancelot. "When are they to arrive?" he asked, the colour of his face slowly fading as he hated himself for being the cause of Lancelot's pain. If there was another option, another way, he would not hesitate to have taken it, but sadly there wasn't.
Merlin sat at the other end of the table, his head resting on his palm, a finger tapping an aged, chiselled cheek. He looked at Arthur then to a brooding Lancelot who had been everything but cooperative throughout this entire ordeal. He thought the young man reflected a spoiled, selfish child who was not getting his way and it infuriated him. The Knight had no respect in his mind…well, he knew that was an extreme exaggeration, but at the moment that was how he felt. "They shall arrive on the morrow," he answered returning his attention to Arthur who was acting as if he had sentenced his first Knight to death. Merlin scuffed at how ridiculous all this was.
Arthur sighed and smiled slightly when Guinevere squeezed his hand for encouragement. Lancelot had been livid with them for the arranged marriage to the Irish princess. He had gone so far as to threaten to leave Camelot and return to Sarmatia if the arrangement was not broken. It had taken a month for Arthur to calm him down and another for him and all the Knights to convince Lancelot that it was in the best interest of Camelot, for all of Britain. They had guilt him into it, all knew it, but it was the only way.
"What does she look like?"
All heads turned to Galahad who only shrugged innocently. "Well it is a legitimate question? We don't know anything about her, what if she looks like a toad?" he said in defence to all the shocked stares he was receiving. He was actually attempting to lighten the thick tension in the room, but judging by the glares he was receiving, especially from Guinevere, he knew that his words were not perhaps welcome, at least not how he worded them he concluded wincing at how it must have sounded.
Gawain's hand shot out and smacked Galahad on the back of the head jolting it forward. "Not a good time for such questions," he growled under his breath to the younger man, ignoring the dark scowl he received in return. He understood Galahad's attempt, but being tactful was not usually one of Galahad's strongest qualities.
Lancelot paled having thought that over plenty of times. It was one thing to be forced into marriage, but if she was as ugly as they come, there was no way he was going through with it. He didn't care about duty or honour or Britain, for if he was being forced to marry she had better be pleasant to look. If not, he was saddling his horse and heading straight for Sarmatia. He would not go through life married to a 'toad'. He didn't care if he sounded shallow, he knew he was to a degree, but everyone drew a line somewhere.
"Galahad, looks aren't everything," Guinevere scolded, her dark eyes narrowing in on the young Knight who gave her a sheepish look.
Galahad gave another half shrugged as Merlin chuckled actually appreciating the question. No one had asked about Keela and he had found it unusual. "I have not seen Keela in many years but when I did see her, she was a beautiful thing. Her twin brother is the eye of many ladies and Keela has had countless marriage offers," he informed with a smile on his face as he thought of the young girl he had met so many years ago. His grin only grew as each of them stared at him with blank expressions, except for Guinevere who had an excited smile on her face. He knew his daughter was looking forward to a female companion who was close to her age.
Lancelot scoffed not at all affected by the praise the old Woad was giving the Princess. He didn't care what he thought. "And why then am I forced to marry her when there are plenty of wanting men out there?" he asked speaking for the first time, the anger evident in his voice as his fingers now played with the sleeve of his black tunic in an attempt to calm himself.
Merlin again just stared at the first Knight who was glaring murder at Arthur, his gaze only softening when it settled on Guinevere. He knew the turmoil the Knight suffered from, many did. Lancelot's supposed feelings for the Queen had not gone unnoticed by the Shaman and he only hopped that Keela could win his tortured heart. "That is not for me to say," he lied. He knew why, he knew all about Keela, but he felt it was her duty to tell, not his.
This only seemed to infuriate Lancelot all the more as he clenched his jaw and glared again at Arthur who only gave him a weak smile in return. It was plainly evident to all in the room that the Knight was soon going to kill someone; it was a toss up between Arthur and Merlin at this point.
"Well…" Arthur said, his tone light, as he cleared his throat and leaning forward, his arms resting on the table, "I am sure she is lovely and we will welcome her and the King when they arrive." He pointed his gaze at Lancelot indicating that no matter how the Knight felt, he would be respectful. The threat King Finchad had made should his daughter be mistreated echoed in his ears. He understood really, what father wouldn't react the same way. He knew he certainly would.
Grumbling in anger and meeting Arthur's look with a glare that would make demons cower, he shoved his chair back with such force it toppled to the ground as he strolled out of the council room, the double oak doors banging loudly as he exited with every intent on getting piss drunk.
Bors only shook his head with a chuckle and took another swig of his wine; he enjoyed watching the younger Knight fret. He himself actually pitied the poor lass for it wasn't an unknown fact that Lancelot was not a one woman man and being a father himself, he felt for the situation she was being forced into. "Well, this should be exciting," he mused before bringing his goblet up to his mouth for another swig.
Okay, let me know what you all think.
