The Lady's Champion
A FGB novella for belli486
Inspired by the Lancelot romances of Cretien de Troyes
Set during the time of courtly love and romance
Medieval Lancelot-ward and his Lady Bella.
Enjoy!
My eyes darted around the dusty field, taking in every nuance of the tourney available to me. The tiny slit in front of my eyes severely impaired my vision; but after years of practice, I was able to size up the field. Already, the hot sun beat down on my armor, baking me as I sat atop Demetri, my warhorse. He pranced in place, eager to begin the competition. As we waited, I balanced the wooden lance in my hand and measured my worthy opponent.
Sir Emmett of Buckinghamshire sat high upon his charger, enchanting the raucous crowd by playing with his lance. His horse, Felix, was dancing in place and putting on quite a show as well. Sir Emmett was known throughout the land as the best jouster in England. He had never been beaten since being named the Warlord's Champion. Today, I would end his winning streak.
I had entered the lists anonymously, heralded only as the Red Knight; my silver armor was adorned with a scarlet red sash. I was the newest member of Lord Carlisle Cullen's cavalry, and today was my chance to prove myself. Only he knew my identity, and it was my job to make sure he never forgot my name.
The trumpets blasted, and the seneschal scurried out onto the field with the lists in hand to announce us to the crowd. The peasants craned their necks from the sidelines and whispered guesses as to who the unknown knight could be. As the man on the field cleared his throat, the masses grew quiet, waiting. The only sound was the impatient snorting of the horses ready to go to work.
"God save the King!" he cried, his practiced voice carrying over the field and to the waiting ears of the plebeians. "Lord Carlisle Cullen gathers his best and finest warriors here today for this, the final tourney of the day. To honor his King, our Warlord will put his best knights to the test for your viewing pleasure. To my right, please welcome the Warlord's Champion, undefeated in the tourneys, Sir Emmett of Buckinghamshire!"
The crowd erupted, and Sir Emmett raised his lance above his head, bringing their cheering to a frenzy. I knew my place and the role I was supposed to play. I walked my horse a short way down the jousting line and held my gauntlet up to the crowd, thumb held high. Slowly, I turned my thumb downward, and the crowd frothed at the mouth with boos and jeers for my disrespect of their champion.
"And to my left, the unnamed challenger, The Red Knight!"
The boos and jeers reached a fever pitch as I walked Demetri back to the starting point. I raised my lance in salute, and Emmett raised his as well. We both bowed our heads to each other as the seneschal hurried out of the way. I waited until he brought his lance down before I began to lower my own. It garnered the reaction I wanted from the crowd; I could hear the din of the crowd through my helmet as they chastised me for keeping my lance raised after the champion. It was a great disrespect to him and his status, but it took the crowd to the right level of frenzied excitement.
I knew that the warlord was giving his signal, but I could not see him. The trumpets blasted three times in quick succession, and we were off. I spurred Demetri, and the thundering of his hooves filled my ears. I leveled the lance, watching as the point bounced precariously in front of me. Emmett's lance was not in my field of vision yet, but I sat strong in my saddle, preparing for the hit that never came.
As his lance came into view, I saw that we had miscalculated. Our lances broke when they collided as we galloped past each other, neither of us moving more than an inch in our saddles from the impact. We immediately circled around and readied ourselves for another assault. Benjamin, my page, had my new lance ready and waiting for me, and I snatched it up as I passed him. The boy scurried out of the way of Demetri's powerful hooves. Emmett was ready at the other side, and I positioned the lance, fixing my aim more carefully as the trumpets began to sound again.
Demetri rode sure and straight, and this time, my lance connected with my target. I felt the jolt run up the lance as it crunched against my opponent's armor. I felt the weapon collapsing, but didn't see my opponent flying through the air. I turned my head and saw that the lance had hit him in the shoulder. It wasn't enough to unseat a clever jouster such as Sir Emmett. I dropped the lance and cantered past him, my hand extended for my next lance.
This time, I held the lance lower. I balanced it better. I held it tighter. And when it connected, I knew I had found his gut. I felt his lance connect with my shoulder. The combination of his weight against my lance and the blow he dealt me was enough to send me flying off the horse. However, I looked up to see my opponent in the air as well.
I landed and rolled out of the way, instinctively trying to avoid the deadly hooves of the warhorses. I dropped the lance as I stood and began reaching for my long sword. The helmet would get in my way, but I needed to maintain my anonymity, now more than ever. He would fight differently if he knew who I was.
I held my sword aloft in my left hand, waiting for him to catch his breath and stand up after his fall as was the courtly tradition.
"Thank you, knight," his muffled voice called from under his helmet.
I bowed, still holding my sword out in front of me. The clang of metal was my only clue that he had not given me the courtesy of waiting for me to finish my bow. I parried and thrust, surprising him with my quick reflexes. I charged him when he expected a retreat, and it brought him to his knees.
"Bastard!" I cried, calling him out for advancing as I bowed to him.
"Whatever works, my friend," he grunted under the weight of my sword.
My sword was true, but he was powerfully strong. He pushed me far enough away for him to regain his footing and parry my advance. The metal of our swords sang out across the tourney field amid the roar of the crowd. I continued to play with him, parrying and thrusting expertly with my left hand until I grew weary of the game. When I had backed him up enough, I threw the sword in the air and caught it with my right hand. The crowd gave a collective gasp of surprise, and then I continued the assault.
Within minutes, I had him exactly where I wanted. Positioned directly in front of the grandstand, I knew the warlord and his lady watched the action. I cuffed him over the head with my sword, knocking him to the ground and then positioned my sword at the exposed skin of his neck.
"Is quarter given, My Lord?" I asked loudly.
The entire tournament field was silent as they watched their champion lay out on the field at the mercy of my steel.
"Quarter is given, Red Knight," the warlord called to me in a lazy voice.
"Do you yield?" I asked the knight lying in front of me.
"Yea," he grumbled. "I yield. The field is yours."
I removed my sword from his neck and placed it in the dirt at my feet. I removed my helmet and knelt before Lord Cullen and listened as the crowd began to whisper my name through the stands.
"That's Sir Edward."
"He comes to the court from Aquitaine I'm told."
"He's new, but he's the best knight in all the land."
I continued to look at the ground as I waited to hear my name called in victory.
"Rise, Sir Edward," Carlisle Cullen called from the grandstand, "our champion of the day."
I stood and offered my hand to my fallen comrade.
"Bastard, am I?" Emmett said as he took my hand. He removed his helmet to reveal his face lit with an impish grin. "Hiding your identity from me? I would have never gotten up from the unhorsing had I known it was you!"
He pulled me to his chest, and we embraced quickly, the fight over and all disputes settled, before we turned to face the warlord. There, standing beside him, was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was a vision in a flowing cobalt gown with ribbons adorning the waist. Her hair, braided intricately with pale blue ribbons to match those on her dress, hung heavy down her back in a flowing mahogany mane. Her skin was creamy and pale, touched with a faint blush of color.
Her eyes took all of the wind out of my lungs. She stared at me intently as if she knew and understood I was cataloguing her appearance. She was unembarrassed by my brazen glances; in fact, she seemed to arrange herself so that I might get a better view. I could see the way her dress was gathered under her breasts and the way the fabric fell perfectly over her stomach. I noticed the white kerchief between her bosoms, her favor. Immediately, I craved it.
The beautiful lady was stepping forward, and it was only as I saw her move that I realized Lord Cullen had been speaking these past few minutes as I stared. All eyes were on her as she stepped in front of the Warlord. He leveled her with an irritable glare as she smiled back at him.
"What is it, my wife?" he asked, his voice thick with exasperation.
I locked my jaw in anger, listening to him address her in such a manner. It was not my place to defend her, and she didn't seem troubled in the least by his tone. She held her calm, perfect smile in place as she continued to look him in the eye.
"I wish to bestow my favor upon the champion," she said softly, her voice gentle as a breeze.
The warlord laughed indulgently.
"It is kind of you to bestow your token on our friend and champion, Sir Emmett."
"No," she said firmly. "The champion of these lists. I wish to bestow my token upon Sir Edward, the Red Knight."
She turned around, fixing me with her deep brown eye, and if possible, her smile grew wider. Her hand seemed to move in slow motion as her fingertips grazed the soft flesh peeking out of the top of her gown. I ached to be those fingers and feel the softness of her skin beneath my hands. When she pulled the white fabric from her bosom, I noticed a black and gold decoration at the edge. It was the profile of two swans, one black and one gold, with their necks intertwined in an intimate embrace.
I knelt before the lady, my head bowed before her in reverence for this gift. I felt the air stir in front of me and knew that she had come down from the dais. Suddenly, the white kerchief was hanging before my eyes, and I could smell her patchouli perfume upon it. I brought my hands up and grasped it gently in my fingers. She let it flutter down around my hands, making the musky perfume bloom into the air. Without thinking, I crushed the fabric to my lips and kissed the favor before looking up at her.
Her lips were pursed in an amused smile as she watched me lower her favor and then tuck it beneath my breastplate so that it would lie close to my heart. I reached out tentatively, grasped the edge of her long sleeve, and brought that to my lips as well. I held her eyes with mine as I kissed the fabric and watched as her eyes darkened and her lashes lowered. I smiled against the fabric before letting it go.
"You may rise, Sir Edward," Lord Cullen called gruffly.
I did so slowly, letting my eyes travel up her body until I was looking down at her still smiling face. She was a small woman, coming to no more than my shoulder, but her presence filled the tourney field.
"If you are quite done, Lady Isabella …," Lord Cullen said, the same angry tone in his voice.
"Actually, my dear husband, I am not. I have not chosen a champion as of yet," she said boldly.
"But, my lady," he said quickly, looking over at Sir Emmett. "We already have a champion."
"No, you have a champion," she argued. "It is quite uncommon for the Lady of the court not to have her own champion."
Carlisle's clear, pale face became red with anger, and I watched the two of them carefully, knowing that the lady was pushing her husband in a most extreme manner. However, with all of his subjects watching him attentively, it was likely he would give her what she asked for. My heart nearly burst out of my chest in anticipation. The warlord took a deep breath and smoothed the lines on his face before answering her.
"Very well," he said, his voice now bored. "I suppose you want Sir Edward, then?"
She averted her eyes slowly, looking in my direction.
"I do, indeed."
"Kneel, Sir Edward," Lord Cullen said, his voice disinterested in the proceedings.
I knelt before him and watched as he came to stand beside his wife. He pulled out his long sword, and I bowed my head in preparation. I felt the weight of his sword on first one shoulder and then the other. I heard the whispered voice of My Lady as the sword was raised again and sheathed.
"Rise, Sir Edward of Dordogne, our Lady's Champion. May you serve her well and protect her to the death."
"I will not fail you, My Lord," I said as I rose.
The couple walked together back onto the dais, their bodies moving together but staying intentionally separate. I noticed the way that Lady Bella reached for his arm as they approached the step and the way he seemed to hesitate before offering it to her. Perhaps it was my over-eager mind, but I fancied a grimace upon her face as she touched him. Would she grimace so if it were my arm she was touching?
The formalities taken care of, Emmett and I walked back to the stables so that our pages could remove our armor and we could tend to our horses. We heard the jesters and jugglers putting on a spectacle for the crowd. Removing the armor was a long and tedious process. The crowds were dispersing by the time that we were able to curry our horses.
I was brushing Demetri when the sound of hushed, angry voices met my ears. They came from just outside the stable. I could tell that it was a man and a woman speaking, but I could not hear any distinct words. I looked up and saw that Emmett was listening too, though I doubted he was able to understand what was being said any better than I.
The voices ceased and both of us craned our necks to see who was speaking. To my great surprise, I saw Lord Cullen walk by the wide stable door with another woman by his side, her arm held tightly at his side. Behind him, Lady Isabella walked slowly. Her head was held defiantly high as she looked after her husband and the woman he escorted. A hectic blush colored her face, but she refused to look down. She walked steadily, regally, past the stable.
I had a sudden urge to run to her, to take her arm in mine, and escort her wherever she was going so that she wouldn't have to walk alone. I wanted to shield her from the stares of the common folk, those who could not understand or who would take her pain as weakness and use it against her. I wanted to champion her, but this was a pain I could not save her from.
When they were out of sight, I looked over and saw Emmett watching me. When I met his eyes, he chuckled and shook his head.
"You poor sot," he said. "Of all the women in court, you fall for the wife of the Warlord?"
I opened and closed my mouth before pursing my lips and looking at him levelly.
"What was that about?" I asked. "You seem to know so much … tell me."
Emmett looked around and then walked across the stable to stand outside Demetri's stall.
"Lord Cullen has been with the Lady Esme for years now," he said quietly. "They were lovers from the time that they were both young. His marriage with Lady Isabella is but a political match, and everyone at court knows this. They do not even bother to share a bed. Although, I've never seen him flaunt Esme so blatantly in public like this. Perhaps his lady's show with you this afternoon displeased Lord Cullen, and he is teaching her a lesson."
"With me?" I asked, immediately approaching him angrily. "She did nothing below the bar today. She gave me her favor and chose me as her champion."
"Lord Cullen was right," he replied. "The Warlord's Champion acts for her as well. Choosing a different champion was a move against him. Not that I care, mind you."
He smiled at me, and I could not help but return his guileless happiness with a faint smile of my own. Still, knowing that my own actions might have caused My Lady a public humiliation left me with a feeling of unease. I had to make it up to her.
After brushing down the horses, Emmett and I parted ways to array ourselves more appropriately for the night's festivities. I pulled the heavy wool shirt over my head and stood before a mirror to assess the damage from the lists. The bruise on my shoulder was already black in the center where the lance hit and was beginning to purple around the edges. It would be best to get a poultice on it, but I was eager to join the festivities. I wanted to see My Lady again. I pulled on my dress shirt and tucked her favor inside against my heart. After affixing my cloak, I hurried to the festivities.
She was in the hall, a vision in her blue dress, sitting at the head table next to her husband who was ignoring her in favor of the other woman sitting to his right. He had placed his mistress in the favored spot. It was a slap in the face to his wife to be sure. I assumed she wouldn't look my way, but as soon as I was fully into the room, her eyes snapped to my face.
Her expression made my heart soar. First, a blush bloomed on her cheeks and then a smile spread across her lips. She was happy to see me. I bowed my head to her and smiled more deeply. As I traversed the hall, we lost eye contact, but I was able to see her searching for me. It sent a thrill of pleasure through my body to know that she was eager to see me. What's more, I felt hope. Perhaps my presence at court could bring her some happiness, for it was clear she found none in her marriage.
The night dragged on, an endless parade of food and courtly obligations. As the champion of the lists, many of the ladies sought my hand on the dance floor. Though I met each one with a bow and a smile, I was constantly looking for the other, the one who had stolen my heart when she gave me her favor.
It was nearing the end of the night. My shoulder was aching, and I was bored with the courtly obligations set before me. My pallet in my tent was calling to me along with the dreams I knew would follow of the lovely Lady Isabella. In an instant, however, my mood changed when the scent of patchouli surrounded me. I knew she was close by. I turned to find her standing behind me … waiting.
Without saying a word, I extended my hand to her, and she took it. Immediately, I felt the fire of her touch coursing through my veins. I brought her fingertips to my lips gently and then twirled her round to begin the carol, one of the traditional chain dances. As we ducked and swayed, passed and curtsied, her blush became more evident. Always, as we passed each other, she would reach out her fingertips and brush my hand, sending sinful tingles up my arm. As the music was drawing to a close, I took her hand in mine and spun her round again, holding her near the end of the dance around her waist.
"Meet me behind the stables at the entrance to the forest," she whispered quickly. "Go after this dance, and I will follow within a quarter hour."
Before I could agree or even acknowledge her invitation, she had pirouetted away from me. I made a courtly bow before backing off the dance floor and exiting the hall.
As I walked through the flame-lit hallways of the castle toward the outdoors, my heart raced in my chest. What could she want? What would she say? I still felt her burning touch upon my hand, searing against my skin and setting my blood to boil through my veins. I wanted nothing more than to touch her again, feel the softness of her skin next to mine and see the blooming blush that my touch inspired in her.
I couldn't allow myself to hope for something such as that. It would be wrong to pray for such a liaison, and yet, I did. I prayed for her to choose me that I might heal some of the hurt I could see in her eyes. I wondered how long she had been unhappy and what it would take to see her smile. I somehow doubted that she had truly smiled in a very long time.
I waited, impatiently pacing the entrance to the forest, for what felt like several hours before I heard the soft padding of her footsteps. She had come. She walked through the darkness, and as she approached me, she lost her footing, stumbling into me.
"My Lady," I murmured as I caught her in my open arms. "Are you…"
She leaned more heavily against me and on instinct, I pulled her close to me. I heard her breath catch in her throat, and I understood that I had misinterpreted the feel of her body against mine. She had simply stumbled; she did not want me.
"I apologize, My Lady," I said softly. "I should not have been so bold."
She did not pull away. Instead, her face moved closer to mine, and I could see her pearl white teeth cover her bottom lip before she bit down in hesitation. Her eyes widened as she looked up at me, asking a silent question that I did not understand.
"My Lady?" I asked.
She reached up on her toes, and her face was ever closer. I felt the pull of her, the heat of her body against mine. I could almost taste the musky scent of her perfume as it wafted around her as she moved. Her tongue darted out of her mouth, wetting her lips, and without thinking, I brought my lips crashing into hers.
She was warm and tasted of red wine. When my lips touched hers, I heard her sigh softly; and it spurred me forward, bringing my arms around her and cradling her to me, treasuring the feel of her body against mine. Her hands trailed up my chest and around my neck. I almost expected her to push me away and slap me; instead, she pulled me closer and opened her mouth to mine, tentatively touching her tongue against my lips as if asking a question.
With a soft groan, I pulled her lip into my mouth, tasting the sweetness of her against my tongue. Her tongue found mine, and we danced a more intimate dance than before, tasting, exploring, and devouring each other until we were left panting, leaning our heads against each other.
"Not here," she panted, placing a light kiss against my chin. "Take me somewhere … anywhere … so that we might be alone."
Kissing her once more, I led her through the forest at a fast pace to a clearing I had visited earlier in the day as I hid myself during the lists. I did not wish to be seen much during the fighting, and so I spent time lounging about until it was almost time for my entrance. It would be the perfect spot to be alone with My Lady.
Once there, she was back in my arms, pressing herself against me and begging me to continue kissing her. It was a request I gladly complied with, finding the soft, sensitive patch of flesh at the base of her neck and holding her to me. She brought her hands to my hair again, and her kisses became frantic, pleading. I pulled away from her, lavishing kisses on her cheeks, her eyes, her forehead.
"Tell me what you want, My Lady, and I will gladly give it to you."
"Call me Bella," she said huskily.
Bella, my heart sang. It fit her better than her formal title.
"My Bella," I murmured, my lips finding hers again and moving softly against them. "May I call you my Bella?"
"Always," she whispered.
My hands, shaky and unsure, moved over her body, touching, feeling, and constantly questioning whether my touches were wanted. She sighed against me, wordlessly giving her assent as I moved against her. When my fingers found the soft swell of her breast, her breath hitched, and she moaned my name. The sound of my name on her lips brought my mouth desperately to hers, kissing her roughly and crushing her against me.
I continued moving my hands against her breast, reveling in the soft moans my motions brought forth from her. She slipped her hands beneath the loose strings of my shirt, running her fingers across my chest and through the hair there. Her fingers made circular motions until they reached my shoulder where she pressed her fingers into my flesh, making me moan slightly in pain, not pleasure. She immediately recognized the difference.
"I hurt you," she whispered.
"It is nothing," I said quickly.
Without a word, she pulled at the laces of my shirt, catching her favor, which I had tucked close to my heart, and tugged the shirt off of my shoulders until my now purple and blue bruise was on display in the moonlight.
"Edward," she breathed.
She leaned forward, kissing the bruised skin gently, almost reverently, and running her fingertips softly over my shoulder. She walked around behind me, running her fingers over me as she went as if memorizing the planes of my body. She explored my muscles, the dips and curves of the scars I knew so well, kissing and murmuring over the size and number. It was as if she tried to make up for being absent from my side when I had received them, loving away the old hurts that she had missed.
As she came around the other side, I took her wrist in my hand and brought her fingertips to my lips. I had never felt so loved and whole as I did in that moment, feeling her worship my old wounds. I wanted to heal her wounds, though I knew hers were far deeper than my own. I looked up to find her smiling softly in the moonlight at me.
"Make love to me, Edward," she whispered, bringing her free hand to my face. "Show me what it is to be loved."
She brought my hand up and placed it over her heart where I could feel the soft fluttering beneath my fingers. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting myself feel her satin skin beneath my hands before I opened my eyes and began to move my hands over her body with purpose. She was so beautiful, vulnerable in that moment. Though I had been with whores before, I had never been asked to love a woman before. And I wished to give her everything.
I undid the satin laces of her bodice, and her dress fell loose around her arms. Running my fingers along the curve of her shoulders, I lifted her heavy plait off her neck and bent down, kissing my way along the line of her collarbone. She shivered as I moved my hands down her arms, loosening the fabric as I went and pushing it further down until her breasts were exposed. I stared in awe of the creamy pale skin that glowed in the moonlight and the hardening rosy tips. She blushed and looked down, embarrassed or ashamed; I could not tell which.
"You are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on," I whispered, gently running my fingers down her chest until I heard her gasp. "May I touch you?"
"Yes!"
Her voice was a throaty plea, which sent shivers of desire through my body. I tried to move slowly, worshipping her body as I moved and explored, but as my hand cupped her heavy breast, I could not quiet the groan of need in my throat. I kissed her neck passionately, covering the soft skin with my mouth. Touch, taste, sight, sound, smell … everything was Bella. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled her body close to mine so that our bare chests touched.
I stepped away from her for a moment, taking the cape I had hung over a tree and laying it upon the ground. I pulled my shirt that she had loosened over my head and stood beside the makeshift pallet, holding my hand out to her. I could not offer her a bed, but I would offer her as much dignity as I could muster.
She came to me, and we began the delicate dance of removing clothes. Hands trembling and nervous laughs escaping our lips, we moved together cautiously and soon feverishly, desperate to feel each other's body fully. At last, she was bare before me, and I exhaled shakily. She was more beautiful than I could have ever dreamed, her skin almost shimmering in the filtered light.
Her fingers moved cautiously down my chest and over my stomach, swirling and teasing the sensitive skin. My body reacted to her touch, and her eyes widened in response. Fascinated, her fingers continued downward until her warm hands surrounded my length, touching and stroking me.
"Bella," I sighed, leaning into her and feeling her body against mine. "Lay with me, my lady."
Her title held new meaning to me, knowing that for tonight at least, she was mine. I pulled her over to my cape and lay down with her, cradling her head on my arm and kissing her softly. I was in no hurry and let my fingers trail lazily across her skin, memorizing the spots that made her moan.
As I approached the soft triangle of hair at the apex of her legs, I felt the warmth and wetness waiting there for me. I traced the delicate skin of her thighs until she lifted her hips in anticipation, eager for my touch. She was silken heat under my fingers as I traced her entrance. She brought her hand to my face, angling it so that she could look into my eyes as I entered her. We both groaned in pleasure as my fingers began to move within her.
I explored, moving slowly and luxuriating in the soft moans of pleasure coming from her lips. I moved deeper within her, my fingers surrounded in her heat, until I came to something unexpected … something that made me freeze and pull my hands away from her body.
I kissed her gently, soothing her when she whimpered at the loss of touch and ran my hands over her to quiet her.
"Bella, please," I murmured, hushing her. "Are you – have you – is your marriage consummated, My Lady?"
Bella moved her hands immediately to cover herself in embarrassment as she shook her head. She was a virgin, untouched by her husband. I pushed aside the anger at his dishonorable behavior and began to soothe her, seeing the silver tear slide down her cheek. She stilled my hand where it lay on her chest and shook her head quietly.
"You don't want me either," she whispered.
I pulled her close to me, almost crushing her with the force of my embrace.
"Never think that," I said fiercely. "I can't imagine wanting anything more than I want you."
"But … you stopped touching me."
"Only because I would not take that from you in this way," I said softly.
Her brows furrowed as she looked up at me.
"Do you not see?" I asked. "If your marriage is not consummated, it is not valid. We can contest it and … you can be free of him."
Another tear fell down her crumpling face as she continued to shake her head.
"He will never let me go," she said hotly, tears choking her voice. "My land is too valuable to him."
She placed her head gently on my shoulder, and I kissed her forehead. I wanted to reassure her that I could make him see reason, but I worried that I was being too forward. Perhaps she didn't want my help—or my hand.
"Do you wish to be free of him?" I asked.
"More than anything," she said, her voice cold. "I hate him, but I have no other choice."
"What if – I could offer you another choice?"
"You cannot throw your life at court away," she said, tangling her fingers in my chest hair. "I cannot ask that of you."
"I don't want this life if I cannot have you," I said. "If you'll have me, I'll take you away from this life."
She sighed softly and leaned into me.
"It is a beautiful dream," she murmured. "You already hold my heart; would that you could hold my body every night as well."
"I swear to you, I will free you of him," I vowed.
She looked up at me and smiled sadly.
"If it can be, so let it be done."
I could tell that she didn't believe it could be done but was willing to allow me to try. That was all I asked of her for tonight. Her fingers moved from my chest to my hair to my face, bringing me closer to her. I kissed her gently, unwilling to enter into relations that could jeopardize my plans, but she was insistent. Needy.
I brought my hand back to her center, stroking and teasing the small nub of nerves. She whimpered and pushed at my hand with her hips.
"I want you," she sighed, "all of you."
"And you shall have me," I promised. "But I will take you to my bed as my wife, not sully you beforehand. Allow me to pleasure you in this way, my love. We'll have forever for the rest as soon as the truth is revealed."
I kissed her deeply, moving my fingers faster until she cried out and clenched around me, sighing in completion. As she collapsed against me, I felt her hands flutter against my cock, stroking, touching.
"Does this feel good to you?" she asked innocently.
I clenched my teeth against the groan of desire.
"It is not necessary," I hissed as she continued to move against me. "I wish only to please you."
She brought her face in front of mine and smiled devilishly.
"And you did," she whispered. "I wish to make you feel as good."
I could not stifle the moan of pleasure as her fingers gripped me, moving tentatively up and down my length. It was clear she had not touched a man like this before, but her hands were heaven upon me.
"Am I doing it correctly?" she asked. "I want to please you so much, Edward."
I nodded, my hips moving involuntarily with her hand as she said my name.
"Show me," she whispered.
I covered her hand and showed her how hard to hold me. She moved her hand up and down, slowly, torturously. When the sensation became too much, I could not stop myself from rocking with her, and she increased her speed with me. I felt my body tightening, tensing, and then finally releasing. I cried out her name as I came against her, and she pulled me close to her, cradling me in her arms.
I helped her dress again, kissing her body as I pulled on her clothes and murmuring promises of my love to her. She returned my promises, telling me that she had found her purpose when she looked into my eyes on the tourney field. My heart soared with the possibility of fulfilling her purpose with my love. I walked her to the edge of the forest, and it was there that she insisted we part ways. She was right; it would do neither of us any good to be discovered now, so close to our goal.
"I will see you on the morrow, my Bella?" I asked quietly, pulling her close for one last kiss.
"On the morrow," she whispered, her lips feather soft against mine. "Edward."
She was gone from sight in a blur of blue fabric and patchouli fragrance. I watched her disappear through the stable and turned to make my way to my own tent, knowing my dreams of her body would pale in comparison to the reality of her.
I awoke in a haze of confusion, reaching out for her and finding my hands empty. I had dreamed of her, and my dreams were more real than I could have imagined. I wanted more of her. I squeezed my eyes closed against the encroaching dawn, wanting to hold on to the dreams of her as much as I wanted the reality.
"Get up, man!" Emmett's booming voice startled me out of my reverie. "Have you not been told? The entire court is in a buzz. The Lady Isabella has been abducted from the grounds. The Warlord is in a rage, saying that she ran from him!"
"Ran from him?" I asked, dazed, as I got up from the pallet. "Where does he think she's run to?"
"No clue," he said, throwing me my woolen shirt and holding out my sword belt. "No one believes the girl to have run. It's just a matter of finding the villain who snatched her. Every knight will be needed, especially her champion."
When the morning sun hit my eyes as I ran from the tent toward the stables, my eyes caught a pale blue ribbon fluttering from one of trees in the distance.
"Emmett," I called. "Ask Benjamin to ready Demetri. I will be there presently."
I ran toward the stand of trees, my heart in my throat as I saw the fluttering piece of fabric hanging from the tree. I approached it cautiously, my hand on the hilt of my sword. It was one of the ribbons from her hair; I could tell both by the color and by the mahogany strands of hair still clinging to the ribbon.
No, she had not run. She had been taken. Here. Minutes after our rendezvous. Whoever took her, did so with force and against her will.
My thoughts and plans for the future were buried in rage as I ran blindly for the stable, eager to get to horse and find my Bella. I ran full on into Lord Cullen who grabbed me by the shoulders and laughed raucously as I tried to push past him.
"In a rush, young Edward?" he asked, a bemused smile upon his lips.
"My Lady," I said, my breath coming in heaping gasps as I looked past him wildly to where my page readied my horse.
"Yes," he said. "Your lady. She has left you, hasn't she?"
His lazy voice angered me, holding me from my goals. I chose to ignore the obvious assertions he was making.
"I don't believe that she left of her own will," I said, furrowing my brow. "And neither do you."
"It's of no concern to me now," he said. "She is gone, and of course, we will make a good show of looking for her. But I doubt we will find her. And then, I will hold her land,s and she will no longer be here to bewitch you, my boy. You see, you are of far greater use to me than the girl."
My rage boiled over as I pushed past him, nearly knocking him over. His amused laugh spurred my anger further, and I spun around to face him.
"Your courtly ideals are admirable, son, but really you will be wasting your time on your journey. She is far away by now."
"I will find the Lady Isabella," I swore, my voice raw with anger and fear. "And when I do, I will come back to find you."
"Idle threats, Edward, will do nothing to further your place in my court. But I shall forgive you in time."
I spun on my heel and left him. Despite what he had said, she could not be more than ten miles from the court. If I rode quickly, I might be able to catch up the kidnappers and take them by surprise.
I was not worried about riding out on my own, but I was glad to see Emmett's resolved face greet me as I entered the barn.
"Didn't sound very broken up, did he?" Emmett asked as we hurried over to our armor.
I grunted in reply, too angry to answer.
"I'll accompany you, brother, if you'll accept my help."
I turned to him and looked at him seriously.
"If I succeed, there likely won't be a place for me here," I admitted.
"I don't champion scum," he said and spat in the hay.
I shrugged and turned back to my armor, pleased despite my taciturn acceptance. I feared that I would need all of the help that he could provide.
A/N: This is the first of three chapter of this story. If you are familiar with the Lancelot legends and romances that began with Chretien de Troyes' "The Knight in the Cart," you might see some elements of those romances in this story. First, I want to thank Belli486 for buying me in the FGB auction. I hope you enjoy this first installment. Also, I need to thank my betas and pre-readers: Savage_Woman, swimom7, bookjunkie1975, and nitareality; you ladies rock the castle! I hope you all enjoy this short novella. Leave me some love, because you know it makes me happy. Thanks! ~Jen