So, I think my story will do well, which makes me happy that I can help start a new frontier of Fanfiction. So those who may be curious, the Raider and the Orochi will later become involved, but not for a while. It's mainly focused on Jacklyn and Tristan for now. Also, if anyone else was curious, this story WILL evolve into a romance later on. Between who, I won't say. But yeah, this won't have much fighting, more just an attempt to set the plot for the next chapter, which will occur as the 2nd mission of the story. Can't wait! R&R!
(Three days after the previous events)
Holden Cross growled as the warband of viking soldiers appeared from the forest around them; they hadn't been prepared for such an ambush. He quickly placed his helmet upon his head and grabbed his halberd. Cross charged from his perch and charged into the thick of the skirmish happening.
He roared as he swung his halberd with crushing strength; sending their marauders flying back. His soldiers were surrounded almost completely by vikings. He growled as he kept slaughtering every foe in his path.
He backed up when four berserkers charged at him; he readied himself as they approached. The first one lunged for him, he only stepped to the side and used the blade of his halberd to nearly cut the viking in half. The bloody mess of the first berseker fell to the ground in a heap.
The other one caught him off guard and drove an axe head into the Lawbringer's shoulder; he growled in pain before reeling back with his armored elbow, stunning the viking.
His soldiers were being overcome around him, he knew he would never be able to fight them all off on his own.
Suddenly, he heard the clattering of armor approaching; he smirked behind his helmet as he knew who was on the way.
"Charge!" a rough, husky voice growled, almost two-dozen captains appeared from the forest behind the vikings; with them, came two familiar wardens.
Their armor was painted in orange and black colors and designs; with roars, the two and the captains crashed into the vikings' flank.
The warband had no chance of recovering after being flanked by the wardens and their soldiers. Tristan growled as he cut the marauders down, left and right.
He used the hilt of his sword to send one on their back, drive his blade into another's shoulder, using the blade as a mace. He spun around and beheaded one behind him. The other warden filled the gap he had made.
Jacklyn growled as she began sending marauders on their backs dead in waves of twos or threes. She thrust her sword forward, lifted the soldier off his feet, and threw his corpse off of her longsword. The female warden span around, cutting a marauder in half with one mighty swing; the corpse of bloodied armor and flesh fell down into a pile, leaving the dirt below it red.
She flipped around, and her sword collided with another, but it wasn't an enemie's sword.
She smirked behind her helmet as she realized her blade had collided with Tristan's own. She could tell he had done it on purpose.
They both began laughing, their helmets almost fell off from it; their soldiers and Holden were finishing off the remaining vikings. Holden sighed as he was facing the last berserker.
He tripped the viking with the hook of his halberd, before using the pointed spear-blade at the end to stab the berserker directly in the chest.
Jacklyn and Tristen were startled as blood curdling cries erupted from the brush behind them; two more vikings appeared.
The first had metal and leather armor covering his body, a shield on his left arm, and a short-sword in the right; a helmet that only showed his eyes and mouth. To his side, another one charged out; most of his upper body was showing, a metal helmet with two short horns pointing downward rested on his head; this one looked more brute than warrior, he carried a large two-handed axe in hand.
Tristan looked to her and gestured to the shield bearing viking, he focused his attention on the axe-wielding one.
When he thought to be prepared, he was thrown off as the raider charged him with a loud roar, the viking slammed into him and began carrying him back for almost three yards.
"Tristan!" she cried before jumping back from the Warlord's sudden attack. She had no time to worry about Tristan as she was forced to face the warlord.
He rapidly swung his sword at her; she shoved him back with strength behind her shoulder; he fell back a bit. She raised up and brought her sword down, only for him to raise his shield and take the momentum completely out of her attack.
He bashed her across her helmeted head with his shield; she was almost knocked out by it, but managed to stay on her feet; she readied herself again.
Tristan rolled out of the raider's way as he charged the warden. He used his longsword to create a long gash along the viking's back. Blood trailed from the wound, but he didn't seem to care.
He spun his axe around, Tristan ducked under it, but received a knee to the face from the raider. He thanked his lord for having a helmet. He stumbled back with a dazed feeling in his head. The raider brought his axe down to crush Tristen with the blow; the knight managed to use his sword to block the attack, before using the hilt to bash into the raider's gut, winding him.
The raider fell back, but too slowly as Tristan lunged forward, his sword going right through the raider's chest, the viking spat loudly as his life slipped away. He collapsed to the ground, blood leaking from the wound.
He pulled his sword from the viking's corpse and looked to Jacklyn, who was still fighting the warlord. She was quickly losing ground and growing exhausted from constantly having her attacks stopped by a shield.
Jacklyn roared as she made a final attack, but the warlord simply chuckled as he side stepped her tired attack. He kicked her feet out from under her; she fell to the ground within seconds. He stood over her and prepared to drive his sword into her skull...but before he could, a long sword's blade was buried down to the hilt within the warlord's chest.
He coughed blood and stuttered, dropping his sword and falling to his knees; as he fell, it was revealed to her that Tristan had snuck up on the viking and just saved her life. He pulled his blade from the viking's chest. He looked to her and reached out to pull her to her feet; she gladly took it.
When she got to her feet, she looked to the warlord, who still breathed and was still coughing as he died; she decided to put him down.
She lifted her sword tiredly before finally raising it above his neck, and bringing it down; the blade beheaded the warlord, his corpse crumpled to the ground, blood sprayed onto the dirt, painting the dirt red below them.
Holden approached them, having seen the whole mess of duels occur. He had seen Jacklyn fight the warlord, he and Tristen both knew she had chosen to be too defensive against someone who relied on defense, it could have gotten her killed; but they would worry about it later.
She sighed tiredly, she turned to Tristan, removing her helmet along with him. Out of nowhere, she lunged at him, wrapping her plated gauntlet covered arms around him, holding him close as she hugged him.
He would have been winded if not for his training, her strength was unimaginable for a woman; he was stronger by a long shot, but compared to the ladies in their castles and villages, she was incredibly strong...of course, having to wield a longsword that is their weapon AND shield, would make anyone strong.
"Thank you." she said with exhaustion evident in her voice.
He blushed lightly, it was honestly a comedic sight, a strong, independent knight, blushing to a lady's affection.
She released him, pulling back a bit, he admired her now short hair. To improve how she can wear her helmet without worrying about her once long, flowing head of hair that needed to be tied back. She hadn't expected her hair to change so quickly; her hair had somehow naturally started to wave and curling.
Her hair being short was different, but he had to admit, it looked absolutely gorgeous on her; though he would never say that aloud.
"It's good you both returned when you did, I don't think I could have fought them all off alone." Holden removed his helmet, handing it to a captain along with his halberd.
"Only doing our duty to the legion, Cross." Tristan bowed his head slightly.
"Well...we lost a few dozen men-at-arms, but it won't be long til we join the entire army, wait til you see it...thousands of soldiers uniting under the Blackstone banner." he smirked, but Jacklyn was now confused.
"How many soldiers does the Blackstone legion hold?" she asked, he thought about it for a moment.
"I believe by now, around five-thousand men-at-arms, two hundred captains, and several dozens of wardens, lawbringers, peacekeepers, and conquerors. Also, if our plan works, we'll soon receive four-thousand mercenary militia soldiers." he sighed, she was shocked.
"Why does the Blackstone legion need so many mercenaries?" she asked, he shrugged.
"My guess is that our lord wishes to have the most vast army as of now. She has been building this army for several years now. Mercenary militias however are soldiers who we need only pay to send them to the front lines. And if need be, hold them back as the last line of defense." he knew more than he let on for.
"Well...I'd say we've scouted the vikings' position enough...we need to return to the encampment and prepare to rendezvous with Stone tomorrow." they sighed, signaling their soldiers to move out.
(Hours later)
Tristan and Jacklyn had gotten their armor off shortly after their return. Tristan removed his linen shirt, revealing his toned, and long worked muscular build. He began unwrapping the bandage tied around his lower torso.
She said nothing as she inconspicuously and metaphorically drooled over him; being a woman still meant she admired men of his build.
The marks that had been left from the flail attack at Daubeny's fort had gotten better, but still needed to be covered up by bandages.
He looked at the fresh bandages, but couldn't wrap them around himself, but knew Jacklyn was right behind him.
"Uhhhmm…Jacklyn…could you…?" he gestured to the roll of bandage, she nodded.
"Of course." she sighed as she grabbed the roll. She unlaced it and pressed the beginning layer to the top of the wound. She began unrolling as she pulled it tightly, several times around his lower torso; she ignored the fact that each time she added a layer, her hands grazed across his hardened abdomen.
When she had completely covered the wound in two layers of the cotton bandage, she tied it in a fine, strong knot.
He sighed as he could cover himself back up with his solid white shirt. His pants he had on were just comfortable cloth pants held by a roughly crafted belt, and connected to his boots. She chuckled as she saw his favorite knife tied around his waist, but she had never asked about it.
"I've always wondered...what makes that knife, the one you always carry when your armor's off, so special?" she asked him, he looked to her before drawing it.
It was a fine blade, the metal was shined enough to see your reflection in it; the blade, like their swords, curved on both sides and pointed to a point at the end, a familiar insignia of the Iron Legion forged of silver on the hilt.
He sighed before starting. "This dagger was given to me by my father, he got it from my grandfather before...well...the cataclysm...he died trying to evacuate our capital's people. He told my father, who said, when he gave it to me, this dagger represents what the Iron Legion is...was...strong, forged from the toughest of material, and was a shining example of hard work, skill, and determination...that this dagger is a symbol of what we are." he looked at it for a moment, she thought of it for a while, his grandfather…? Who was he?
"Tristan, who was your grandfather?" she asked out of nowhere.
"He...his name was Tywin, the Defender, second in command of the Iron Legions...before the shifting of the world." she was shocked, his grandfather was practically a royal ancestor to him.
"Why did you join the Wardens? While you could be living a life of luxury?" she asked him, he sighed heavily this time.
"I...I've never liked lives of leisure, why sit and have things done for you, while so much bad is transpiring just outside your door? I wouldn't sit idle while my people struggled...so...I learned to fight, joined the army for a while, made a name for myself...and here I am." he grinned.
"Do you ever regret it?" she asked.
"I'd rather be here, instead of being served the finest meals daily and having whatever I wished for at my will...if I want something, I NEED, to earn it, not be given it." he said in a low tone.
After minutes of silence, he spoke up.
"So...who was your family before IT happened?" he asked, completely forgetting that one dark fact about Jacklyn.
Her eyes widened a bit, he suddenly felt a pin deep down in his stomach as it dawned on him what he just asked.
She looked down with wide eyes, he felt awful.
"God...Jacklyn, I am so sorry, I forgot about...well...that." she shook her head.
"No...it's...fine...just something I can't discuss by choice..." she sighed, laying herself on the dark red rug she used as a sleeping roll. He shook his head, knowing he had just opened up old wounds for her.
He was silent when he finally removed his boots and laid himself down onto his own bedroll. The entire camp started becoming quiet as only a few guards were awake to patrol.
As sleep overtook them, he heard her whisper to him-
"Hey...Tristan?" she asked.
"...Yes…?" he responded slowly.
"Thank you..." she said.
"For what?" he asked.
"For being my friend, and for being at my side to look out for me..." she grew quiet again.
"You...you're welcome." he whispered in response, getting no further talk from her as he could hear her light breathing, she had fallen asleep.
He rolled onto his side and sighed as he dozed off. Tomorrow, the time for battle would be upon them.
HEY! So This chapter was shorter, but I can't help that. I'm not used to writing over 2k words, only when I'm really into it, can I write over 3k, but hopefully you will enjoy it, kind of a different chapter, don't wanna progress too quickly. I'll see you all when I make chapter 3!
