Disclaimer: I do not own King Arthur (2004).

Rated: M for mature language and adult scenes that may not be appropriate for some ages.

Promise Queen

Chapter 1: Meet Again

I stared up at the rusty ring above me that attached to the ceiling. The chains that held my arms up connected to the annoyance that kept me from my freedom and all my hope. But all was not lost on me as I pulled myself up. I used the muscles that I had developed in my past years to support me as I turned my body upside down as my feet pressed against the ceiling. I counted silently to myself before I began to put all of my weight on the chain and ring. My legs pushed against the ceiling to add more strain to the abnormally strong metal links. The muscles in my legs began to tire quickly with the loss of blood flow to them but I continued to push against the ceiling, hoping and wishing for some sort of weakening. But all too soon I had to stop with a single whisper.

"Aeron!" the Woad princess hissed my name as a warning.

I stopped struggling for a single moment to catch the sounds of banging from above. I held my breath as I listened and slowly lowered my feet back to the ground so that I would not give our guests any un-benevolent thoughts. I listened closely to the voices as the banging ceased and footsteps were heard. The familiar voices of the monks, in their frightened and insane manner, rang eerily in my ears.

The monk's praying came to a halt as the footsteps got closer. "Who are these defilers of the lord's temple?" His insanity had always peaked my interest as to where it had come from.

"Out of the way," a new voice said. The anger and disgust that rippled through that one voice was enough to calm me in knowing that not all men relished what had been done here. The fact that he had a familiar accent that was native to my land added even more comfort as I let some of my muscles relax slightly. "The work of your god," the same voice continued to someone else in the room. "Is this how he answers your prayers?"

"See if there are any still alive," commanded another new voice. This voice made my body tense. It was empowered and commanding, a voice that you listened to whether you wanted to or not. But at the same time the voice was also kind and through it you could almost imagine how the person would react to any situation he was faced with.

The sounds of chains being cut through by the edge of a sharp sword rang through the cramped dungeon and were quickly followed by the clang of the metal door falling to the packed ground. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of possible freedom from this retched hell hole that I had been condemned to. Those sounds were followed briefly by one of the monks hissing and then the liberating sound of steel slicing through skin, bones, muscles and other organs rang in my head like the sweet tune of a nightingale.

I opened my eyes again as I heard the insane monk speak again. "There was a man of god," he said. His voice was too calm for a sane person at such a time.

"Not my god!" the first voice claimed before I heard footsteps coming closer to Guinevere and mine's cells.

"This one's dead," said the commanding voice again.

"By this smell, they are all dead," said a voice that was more accented than the rest. I could just picture the wild beast such a man would be on the battlefield. "And you, you even move and you join him," the voice continued and was accompanied by the sound of a moving flame as though he was using the burning object to indicate something.

The sounds of the hinges creaking and banging against the packed walls continued and a fourth voice called out to one of the others. "Arthur!" My eyes shot open at the single name. Say his last name, I hissed in my mind. Give me some hope of finding him. But the fourth voice continued only to the little boy he had rescued. "You must not fear me," he said with a kindness in his voice. But it was rough and I knew that although the man may be kind he had an intimidating form.

The closest cell cage sounded as they cut it down and I knew that they had found Guinevere in her cell. I smiled slightly for her.

Then a man dressed in armored garb came around the corner to where my containment was hidden. He was blonde with wild hair that reached down to his back in braids. "Arthur," he called over his shoulder. This was the man who contained the wild beast inside himself.

A man with short, dark hair joined him. He was dressed as many of the Roman officers I had seen in my travels. He was Roman that was true but his eyes spoke of other lineage; a deep, mossy green that shone even in this damp light and darkness.

I smirked as they approached cautiously towards me. "Oh…don't be shy," I said, making them freeze. "I don't bite unless provoked."

"You are Sarmatian?" the Roman asked. He had the commanding voice. So this was the infamous Arthur Castus.

"That I am," I replied with a kinder smile. "If you would be as kind as to release me I would much appreciate it."

The blonde, who was also Sarmatian, nodded and moved forward. Arthur moved forward to catch me if needed when the Sarmatian knight cut the chains that helped to support me. I stared up at the rusted ring again as my kinsmen pulled out a dagger to cut the chains with. He looked to Arthur then for the ok and the Roman commander nodded. The knight moved swiftly as he cut through the chains that held my arms up above my head.

As I was released I stumbled forward and groaned as my broken ribs moved in an unpleasant way. I made it a few feet before I stumbled again and almost fell to the ground. The Sarmatian got to me before I could fall though and lifted me up into his arms so that I wouldn't strain myself. Arthur, with a nod of assurance from the knight, took up Guinevere and carried her away. Everyone else had left the dungeon and I was glad for even a moment's peace.

Outside it was snowing and the air was cold but the warmth of the knight who carried me spread through my limbs and kept me from shivering.

"Water! Give me some water!" Arthur called out as he carried Guinevere to somewhere where he could tend to her.

I heard other murmurings, mostly about the boy and his dead family, but I drowned it out as I drank from the canteen pressed to my lips. From my shroud of hair that covered my face in dark strands I took in all the knights I could see. The one who cared for the boy was a tall man with a scarred face but his eyes and hands were gentle as he handled the boy like glass. There were three on horses. One was a large man who looked a lot like the giant. Another was a boy who was younger than me even. He had facial hair that I assumed he tried to use to look older than his years. The last one I could not see, but I heard him speaking in a mumbled voice about the woad princess I had come to know as a friend. The last knight that was there was staring over Arthur has he cared for Guinevere. His gaze held a multitude of emotions ranging from annoyance to slight understanding.

Suddenly a voice that was more annoying than the gods' fickle minds yelled at the gathered knights and flipped a switch in my mind. "Stop what you are doing!" the lord, Marius, demanded.

"What is this madness?" Arthur growled as he stood up to confront the evil man.

"They are all pagans here!" Marius replied as though it answered everything.

"So are we," the young knight said with slight malice in his voice.

"They refuse to do the task god has set for them!" Marius declared. "They must die as an example!"

"You mean they refuse to be your serfs!" Arthur yelled back. His anger was rising by the second and I was glad that the fury was not directed at me.

"You are a roman," Marius said in a snide voice as if he was lecturing a child who had dishonored him. "You understand. And you are a Christian." His evil gaze turned to his wife who kneeled beside Guinevere to give her comfort. "You! You kept them alive!" he accused before slapping her across the face.

Before anyone could react, I had taken the dagger from the blonde knight's belt and lunged at Marius, pinning him to the ground. I held the knife to his throat and his guards came forward to stop me but he cried out to them, telling them not to do anything. "You are a vile man, Marius Honorius," I hissed. "I would take pride in cutting off your ears for what you have done to the boy, your nose for what you have done to Guinevere, your tongue for every bad thing you have called your gentle and caring wife, each of your fingers for every soul lost in that dungeon, and lastly your eyes for what you have done to myself," I growled at him. "But it's your lucky day that these knights want you to live so that they themselves can go home," I said before releasing him.

He watched me with wide eyes as I backed away from him and his men. As I departed I pushed my hair up out of my face so that I could see more clearly. A collective gasp went throughout the knights as I exposed my face to them. I knew what they stared at.

The tribal markings that spread down the right side of my face and down my neck only to disappear under my clothes had caused a lot of people to wonder at their meanings but these men knew their meanings and they were awed by it.

The young pup rode up close to me so that he could get a better look at my markings. "You are a Valkyrie? Blessed by the Goddess?" he asked.

I looked up at him with a lazy smile. "Aye," I sighed. "That I am. And who are you, young pup?" I asked.

He blushed slightly. "I am Galahad," he replied. "What is your name?"

"A-"

"Her name is Aeron," said a voice from behind me. I froze at the voice and felt the prickling of tears at my eyes.

"Tristan?" I whispered his name. I knew it would carry on the snow laden wind that rushed past me.

"How do you know her name, Scout?" Galahad asked, looking over my head.

"Aeron…" he whispered my name back to me.

I spun around and ran straight into his arms, wrapping my own around his lean waist. His arms wrapped around me in return as he held me tight and close to his warm body. I felt his hands in my hair as he weaved his fingers threw the black strands that hung around me in a mess. I took a deep breath as I buried my nose in his chest. The smells of cedar and grass still clung to him but now he smelled of leather as well.

"I thought I'd lost you," he whispered into my matted hair.

I laughed lightly and pulled away from him to bring my hands up and cup his face. "And I you," I said with tears of happiness in my eyes.

"Will someone please explain to me why Tristan is hugging a girl and knows her name before the rest of us?" Galahad groaned in frustration behind us.

"Yes," the knight who had watched Arthur said. "I would like to know as well," he continued with a smirk.

Tristan looked up at his fellow knights with a new air about him. "Brothers, this is my wife, Aeron," he said.

"No wonder Tristan has never touched another woman before," the big knight said from atop his horse with a laugh.

"Lancelot could take lessons from him," the giant said with a smile.

"Let's move out," Arthur called after he and the giant had settled Guinevere and the boy into one of the caravans.

"You'll ride with me," Tristan said as he led me to his horse.

"Aidan…" I said to the horse as we approached. I pet his velvet soft muzzle and he moved towards me as he remembered my smell. "It's good to see you again, old friend," I replied to his greeting as Tristan got into the saddle. He reached down for me after he was situated and brought me up to sit in front of him so that he could keep me warm.

"You may sleep if you wish," he whispered in my ear as we began to move.

I smiled and leaned back against him and let myself sleep for the first time in several weeks.