a/n: ok... i know a number of you are looking me exasperated because i didn't update... well to tell you the truth, i wasn't happy with it and thought that i could expand on the character Leana a little more. so in my efforts i stummbled upon the novel king arthur and read it... let me warn those who are now going to hunt it down... Tristan is a little more out of character in the book. he doesn't get to do the "I aim for the middle" but im not going to tell you you does it. he talks ALOT more but is still the kick ass archer and scout. it also expands more on Lancelot's life style and, of course, Arthur's and Gwen's. and for those who should really know for their future fics, Merlin is Gwen's father, and she was put in the cell for not giving into Marius' attempts to bed her. Lucan was put in there for spitting in a priest's eye/face. and i think thats all im going to tell you, you'll have to read for yourself. anyway, i made this part more gorrey and bloody and depressing. Bane, Leana's wolf is still in the story, and Leana is more hateful towards the Roman's even more. She is still a scout, healer, hunter and kick ass swords women. and i replaced her baton blades with scimitars that look like Tristan's. So with out further adue, I present the prologue to feathers and fur. r&r plz!

Feathers and Fur

Prologue

Tristan

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 the 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 had they 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…

Leana waited outside the horsehide tent as her brother was being tended to. He was given a fatal illness, and was not expected to last much longer. He was only ten years of age… three years younger than her and seven years older than their youngest brother who was only three. Anto was his name, the three year old named Will. Leana was thirteen, a respectable age. She had earned her war tattoo at the age of seven, killing some men of a Germanic tribe, looking for land to conquer. She was hunting when they sprang upon her; she was thankful for the teachings that her father and the warrior women had taught her. The men might have been fatigued and didn't expect a fight from her, which would explain why she was able to take them. There were only four anyway. She felt pride within herself as her mother, the high priestess of their tribe, gave her the marking on her cheek. She had already received the marking for her first hunt on her neck, a wolves' paw; the process should have been painful, but they gave her a type of mixture with mare's milk, making her dazed and in a dreamlike state, so she felt only small tingles while they went on with the process.

Leana jumped again as she heard her brother give another loud cough. It pained her to simply sit outside of his tent instead being in there to comfort him. However, that was a job for her mother, the high priestess. Leana had learned a great deal from her mother. Knowing advanced healing, learning patients, and know when to show respect. Her father was a former Sarmatian knight, bond to serve Rome for 15 years. He was deeply troubled for his son as he sat with Leana outside Anto's tent. She knew why too; the Romans would be coming soon, expecting her father to give up his eldest son. They only took the boys if they were ten or older, so Will was safe. Unfortunately, they might take her father back to serve. The tribe doctor and her mother came out of the tent with sad looks on their faces, silently saying that the chances of him making the night were slim to none. Her father stood up and embraced his wife. Leana simply looked down at the ground in sadness, thinking back to the fun times that they had together. Without saying anything, she got up and went into the tent; she didn't care about protocol at the moment, she wanted to see her little brother before he decided to leave his family.

What she saw nearly broke her heart. He was pale, with a green tint to his skin tone; his black hair was mussed up and caked with grease. His eyes were turning yellow and his lips were dry. His face looked pushed in, symptoms of him not being able to eat without keeping something down. She swallowed her own fear though and sat next to him. When she placed her hand on his forehead to brush some hair out the way, she nearly recoiled from how hot he was. Tears were coming down her eyes as she started to hum a tune that he always asked her to sing when he couldn't sleep. His eyes drifted slowly to a close, and his shallow breathing became regulated. A faint smile came on her lips as she continued her song. She would play it on the wooden flute that she carried with her at all times, but the sound was too sharp, at least too sharp for this boy's hearing at the moment.

She spent the night in his tent, singing to him until she eventually fell asleep sitting up. When she woke, he was still breathing, but it was worse than what he was before. He was awake too, staring up at the tent's top agitated. He could never sit still. She laid her hand on his head once more and he seemed to ease up a bit. Leana then started to hum again, the same tune as last night. When he fell asleep, she exited the tent to see to her chores that she was charged with. She played with Will for a few minutes until she heard she heard her mother start wailing. A stone seemed to form in Leana's stomach, knowing what had happened… Anto had died. As her mother and father prepared Anto for his burial, she kept Will busy. By the end of the day, it was time to mourn her lost brother. To honor him, she played his favorite song on her flute and put a circlet of flowers and grass on his burial mound.

The next day, the Roman's came, ready to take any sons that the tribe had. Unfortunately, Anto was the eldest son; all the other boys were ranging from 4 to 1 in age. This caused an uproar with the Roman soldiers, who started arguing with the men of the village. They were to hand over either themselves, or their sons, or have their tribe and people killed. The commander caught sight of Leana by the fire, sharpening her beloved scimitar. Her father caught sight of this and stepped protectively in front of her.

"Give us the girl or we will take her by force." Ordered the commanding officer. She stopped in mid-stroke with her whetstone when she heard the order. Panic flooded through her at the thought of being at the mercy of Roman pigs that cared for nothing but themselves. Her father didn't move an inch. Leana glanced away from the scene to the hilltop where she spotted many boys around her age. They looked sad, angry, empty and defeated. "You! Girl!" shouted the commanding Roman. She looked to him wide eyed in fear when he mentioned her. "You fight yes?" he asked in broken Sarmatian. It sounded like mud or vomit when he spoke their language. When Leana didn't give an answer the Roman called over a man that held a burning torch. Leana looked from the torch to the man, to her father who was still standing protectively in front of her. Hesitantly she nodded, fearing that he would drop the torch on the haystack that a soldier put out. The officer turned to her father. "She will do nicely. Hand her over and your tribe will be unscathed." He muttered to her father. Her father turned and looked at her. Their eyes locked and one word came from his eyes. Run… And she did. She ran as fast as she could away from the Romans, away from her brothers, away from her mother, and away from her tribe, her home.

She ran into some near by woods and climbed up the thickest tree. To her horror, she saw her people being killed; worst of all, she saw them set fire to everything as well. As quick as she climbed up there she was down and running back. She knew that she most likely couldn't take them all, hell, it would be a miracle if she could take one; she didn't care about that at the moment, she needed to get back and defend her people. Her sudden surge of blood lust stopped short when she was disarmed, and grabbed from behind. She stopped moving when they put her in a restraining hold and they had her look in front of her. They had her baby brother, Will, tied to one of the few wooden crates the tribe owned. The same commander came up to her and gave her a hard slap across the face; so hard… she tasted blood. Tears started to spill down her cheeks more from the shock than the pain. However, her tears and sobs were unleashed when they showed her the heads of her parents, dripping fresh blood from where the necks and shoulders once connected; they're faces forever frozen in frightened faces filled with anguish. She kept her head down, trying to look away from the sight, but they grabbed her by the hair and forced her to look. Leana then heard Will screaming, she sniffled and looked to her baby brother who was wailing because of the restraints that they had him in.

"So, will you fight for Rome? Or do we have to take another life?" the commander questioned cruelly. Leana struggled, trying to see if she could make a finale escape; no use, the Roman was too strong. "Answer me you filthy wench!" he barked. One of the soldiers that was near Will came up behind him and twisted his finger; a sickening crack sounded and Will wailed and screamed even more. Leana's tears became an endless stream.

"Stop it! Stop it you're hurting him!" she cried out. Her voice was hoarse and her throat was dry, but her heart was breaking, and so was her mental strength.

"Then join us you bitch!" the commander hollered back at her. She hung her head, for they were no longer latched onto her long dirty blonde hair.

"Fine, yes I will fight for Rome! I will fight in my brother's and father's stead! Just let him go!" she exclaimed exasperated. The Roman dogs smiled with her desperate answer, knowing that they got what they wanted.

"We will let him go then…. We will let him go to his gave!" the commander said. Her head shot up in time to see the same Roman who hurt Will's finger pull out his sword and take Will's head clean off. Leana never cried so hard in her life as the bloodied stump of a head rolled lazily on the ground after it dropped, fresh blood was spilt. She could have regurgitated her breakfast, but she didn't. The smell of blood was making her dizzy, but she stayed strong, though she still cried. She cried until her tears were gone and then the soldiers restraining her let her go and shoved her forward. She was broken, she had no more tears to cry.

"Gather your things wench, and find yourself a horse." Ordered the commander. Quietly, she picked herself up and picked around the half charred campsite that she used to call home. She found her father's sword, his bow, her mother's knives, and her amulet that she always kept with her. Her brown mare, Astell, was already waiting for her to mount her. Once everything was gathered, she rode up to the commander, an emotionless, empty, defeated look on her face. Her dark green eyes were now grey-green and puffy from the crying. She couldn't speak; her throat hurt her too much. Then, without a word she glanced at the charred and slightly still burning land that she was leaving; then rode up to the group of boys that were crying themselves, looking away in either pity or anger at the Roman's, either way, they felt her pain.

As they traveled, Leana spoke to no one. The other boys tried to get her to talk but she wouldn't; she barely even noticed that they were talking to her, for her mind was off in the distant memories of when their family was whole again. She constantly fingered her flute that was strapped to her belt. She didn't play; she didn't have the strength to. There was a group of boys who always stuck by her. Two were brothers and shared one cousin. Two were exceptionally close as well as another pair. The there was two who stayed to themselves most of the time. She didn't know their names, not yet anyway. Her head was swimming with so much other thoughts that every time she tried to commit their names to memory it always slipped out, like a bucket of water that had a hole; so she gave up and continued riding until they were to stop.

She was sent out on the hunting parties to gather food; she came back with the most. She stayed away from the groups of boys, keeping to herself. She drank water, trying to get her voice back. She gave up on humming, the only thing that seemed to take at least a fraction of the depression away. She eyed her flute dangerously, wondering if she should risk drawing attention to herself just so that she could have some comfort. She decided that she would risk it and took it out. Softly, she began her tune, and continued playing softly. Only the group of boys that kept close to her seemed to notice that she was playing; however, none of them dared to venture forth, knowing that she was in her comfort zone at the moment.

When her delicate tune ended she felt somewhat better about leaving home; however, that did not replace the dread that filling up inside her when she would be looking forward to going home to nothing. She tried humming again… but her voice was lost. It was probably better this way, for she had nothing to say anyway. She felt eyes upon her; when she looked up she saw that the friendly group of boys that always rode near her were watching. One was silently inviting her to join them around their fire. Hesitantly, she got up and walked towards them, and sat down, sitting so that she wasn't touching anyone. The one that invited her over smiled kindly at her, trying to make her feel welcome among them.

"My name is Dagonet. Those three over there are Gawain, Gareth, and Galahad," he introduced her to the three boys who were related to each other, then motioned to a stout but muscular boy beside him. "This is Bors. Those two over there are Kay and Percival; and the two over there are Tristan and Lancelot." When Dagonet finished introducing the boys they all looked to her for her name. She tried to speak but her throat was still sore and her vocal cords refused to work. She picked up a plank of wood and took out a knife and proceeded to carve her name into the plank. When it was finished she held it out to Dag who took it and looked it over. "Leana is it? Your mother was an Amazon?" he asked. She nodded her response and then started fingering her mother's amulet that she carved herself. Dag seemed to realize that he brought up unwanted thoughts and quickly apologized. However she shook her head and waved her hands out in front of her, doing her best to tell him no harm done. He seemed to get it and nodded.

"Alright you maggots, time to go to sleep! If anyone of you starts to straggle behind, prepare to face some lashings in the morning!" shouted what would be the second in command. Leana rolled out her sleeping roll and fell asleep instantly when she laid herself down.

When she awoke in the morning she found it was before the group of boys that she was with did. Quickly, she got her things together, grabbed some of what was left of last night's dinner for breakfast and then went to ready her horse. She still couldn't find her voice, though she still couldn't find any reason to talk; knowing that the first thing that she would say was an infinite number of insults and curses towards the Romans who were escorting them to hell. The boys were finally woken up and they quickly readied themselves.

The long months to Britain were agonizingly dreadful. Mainly because each step they took was another step away from their home. When it came to getting on the ship that would be transporting them they all said their silent goodbyes to home and said their nonverbal hellos to hell on earth.

When they finally arrived, they were put through gruesome training in camps, training from sun up to sun down and were treated with less respect than a dog would be given. It was one day their commander would be personally picking out his knights. When they first saw him they were all shocked to some extent; after all they were young as well, what made the commander so different? His name was Lucius Artorius Castus. He and Lancelot soon became inseparable and together they picked out their army. When they came to Leana Lancelot offered a slight smile and nod towards her, who returned the nod and gave only the slightest of smiles. Arthur caught sight of the exchange in greetings and walked over to her, Lancelot following.

Leana stared at the boy as he approached, putting one of her swords down from sharpening; it was her father's. The boy offered her a kind smile, his eyes filled with pride, though not for himself. He extended his hand towards her to shake hers.

"My name is Arthur, what's yours?" he asked. She hesitantly took his hand but couldn't respond. With a semi-pleading look in her eye she looked to Lancelot for help. He knew that she couldn't talk and immediately stepped up to help her.

"Her name is Leana, she can't talk. She lost her voice and hasn't been able to get it back. Her home was burnt down when they came to her village, and they killed her entire village and family. She is one of the best sword fighters here, being able to wield two swords, and is excellent in archery. She has excellent tracking and hunting skills, and has a good eye. She stopped a fight that was between Galahad and another boy." Lancelot gave the basic over view of her. Arthur nodded in approval then turned to Leana.

"Is this true?" he asked. She nodded, happy that she was now getting yes and no questions. "You fight with two swords?" another nod. "Would you fight for equality and freedom?" he asked finally, once again she nodded, only this time she gave him a faint smile which he returned. He understood that, he understood that she would remain loyal to him. He then nodded to Lancelot and continued looking around for more additions to his army.

When he was gone her smile faded a little, this would be their friend but also the one who would sentence them to death without meaning to. She was happy though that he wasn't underestimating her and treated her like an equal. She tried to hum again, this time a small cracking note sounded but only for a brief moment. Happy that she got that far she tried again, nothing happened this time. She was depressed again. She reached up and stroked her mother's amulet again. A slight tingle shot through her fingers which issued a small squeak from her throat. What on earth? That was strange… mother's stone never did that before. She thought to herself. She looked at her right hand, then the left; they were both tingling but it wasn't as pronounced as before. On the tips of her fingers were newly made dark blue markings of what looked to be wolf claws. Very strange… she continued to find explanations, running through all of the religious teachings that she and other children have been taught by the elders. She found nothing that related to this. Maybe one of the other boys knows. There are other tribes that have their own beliefs… Maybe Dagonet knows! With that thought she quickly sheathed her sword, packed up all her stuff with her horse and hurriedly searched for Dagonet.

Eventually she found him; he was by his horse giving it the needed attention that every Sarmatian knows a horse needs. They were connected to the majestic beasts when the master chose the horse and the horse the master. She smiled at his lovely animal, black filly with a white star on the forehead. He caught sight of her from the corner of his eye and turned slightly so that he was paying attention to both females. From the inquisitive look on her face, she wanted to ask him something.

"What is it Leana?" he asked, still as friendly as possible in her opinion. Her held her hands out, palm side up and showed him the dark blue wolf claw markings. He looked at them with a puzzled expression then at her. He reached out to touch them and he took an instant step back. It was her turn to give him the perplexed look. She cocked her head to the side.

"I think I just heard your thoughts Leana. No don't look at me like I'm crazy because this is what I think." He said to her, who was still continuing to give him the incredulous look when he gave his theory. She thought of something and held her hand out again. Hesitantly he took it.

"Can you hear me?" she asked in her head. Dagonet was shocked to hear a girl's voice inside his head, but he was also relieved that he could finally hear what her voice sounded like, and she wasn't tied down anymore, she could finally be independent.

"Yes I can. Clear as a bell too. You have a nice voice Leana." Dag complemented.

"Thank you. It's nice to be able to use it." She thanked him. Then she just remembered why she had come to him in the first place. Apparently who ever was touching her hand could also hear her thoughts because Dagonet looked thoughtful for second.

"No I haven't heard of anything like this in my tribe. Sorry." He paused when he saw her look on her face. "What?" he asked innocently.

"I didn't say anything… I was just remembering what I was doing here… I think you can hear my thoughts as well." She explained calmly. Dagonet nodded, this made sense… in a way. The fact that she had this ability was a rather strange because neither she nor he ever heard of this happening. Though it was an amulet of an Amazon priestess that she more than likely got it from. A priestess' jewels contained magic and power from the gods, they must have transferred some power to her because even with out the amulet on or touching her, the ability still worked. Then they tried it with gloves that covered the fingers, it didn't work. This was a good thing and a bad thing for her. She didn't want the Roman's to find out, but firing arrows with leather gloves was a pain.

After more experimenting, they found it had to be the hand, not the arm or wrist; the hand or fingers were what made it work. Leana also found that she could communicate with horses this way, which made things easier. Leana felt better knowing that she still had a voice, and thus continued training with her fellow brethren and were finally made Knights of Artorius, or otherwise known as Arthur…