I haven't forgotten you!!

Sorry it has taken my so long to update. I have been distracted with something sparkly (;o)) and between that and Spring Break and sick kids, this was the soonest I could get it up.

Anyway, let me know what you think and enjoy!!

#2 Caught

The water was blessedly cool and I soaked in it with relish, feeling the sweat and dirt of the past few days sloughing away in the comforting liquid embrace. The scent of the forest and sounds of the leaves moving in the breeze and birds twittering in the trees healed the bits of my soul that had been thinning in the constant noise of the village. I dove repeatedly to the bottom to scoop the clean sand and scrub my scalp and body clean. When I was finished and gleaming pink, I let the water carry me as I lay on my back and looked up into the sky.

For all the humidity, the sky was a bright, clean blue, it was later in the day and the sun had passed its highest point, but it was still light out. Every once in awhile a bird would wheel over head, floating on the breeze and I felt at peace. It had been a long while since I had felt so like myself. Here, I did not have to hide, here, I was safe.

When the sky began darkening and my stomach began rumbling, I knew it was time to return to the real world. I rolled from my back to my stomach and slipped beneath the water, swimming like a fish. I had learned to swim almost as I had learned to walk and I loved the water. The feeling of weightlessness and the clean use of my muscles strengthened me when I had not been as active as I would have liked. I surfaced when I felt the sand under my body and stood, the water running into my eyes and down my body. Invigorated, I shook myself like a dog and pressed the remaining water from my long hair. When I brought my face up, I froze, my calm mood dissipating like a fog in full sun.

Standing silently, my clothing clenched in his hand, was the scout. His eyes were hard and pitiless as he looked me up and down, taking in all of my markings, the story of who and what I was. He may not have understood fully, but he knew enough to know they meant I was his enemy. He had no sword, which was not unusual, the knights rarely wore their weapons when they were in the village and he must have followed me from there, but I knew he had an assortment of various knives on him and from the cold expression in his eyes, I knew he would not hesitate to use one should I try and run and running was not an option.

He said not one word, but held my shift out to me, his eyes seeming to dare me to take it from his hand. I clenched my jaw and stepped forward, ignoring every instinct I had. He was a predator of the most dangerous kind and I was without even my clothing to protect me. No innocent and young creature could have been more exposed than I. He released my shift when I took it, but offered nothing more and when I had shrugged the thin cloth over my head and tugged it into place; he turned on his heel and stalked toward the village leaving me to follow.

If he thought by keeping my dress and slippers, he could prevent me from running, he was mistaken. My feet were tough and I knew how to run silently even without shoes and I didn't mind being dressed in only my shift. I didn't mind it in the forest, but as we neared the trees edge and came closer to the village, my steps began slowing. The scout's determined steps did not falter. He was apparently unconcerned with the fact that I was half dressed and that because I had been wet when I dressed, my light shift was transparent in quite few places I would rather it weren't.

I stopped stubbornly in the last shade of the forest and would not move. He, not hearing my footsteps, paused and turned his eyes darkening in a way that had me almost taking a step back.

"I'll not walk through the village like this." I said.

He took a menacing step toward me and I barely prevented my sharp in take of breath, "You will or I will drag you by your hair." His voice was barely above a whisper, yet it raised the hairs on my neck. Like a cornered animal, I contemplated making a run for it. He saw it in my eyes, "You will not get far before I bring you down." He stated matter-of-fact and I knew it to be truth.

"At least let me have my dress. You can keep my slippers if it makes you feel better." I snapped. He chuckled humorlessly.

"Scared?" He taunted.

The villagers, though of my blood, would not appreciate me in their midst. The markings clearly visible under my wet shift and on my bare skin set me apart as a rebel and the rebels were none too kind to those who had given up their freedom without a fight. Often, needing food or other necessities we couldn't easily obtain, we stole from them, making their already difficult lives harder. We made roads dangerous to travel and most importantly we made the Roman invaders despise them more. There was little forgiveness of my kind, no matter that we fought for the freedom of our land.

The scout was close to me, closer than I liked but I would not move away. He smelled of horse and forest. He was taller than I had realized and broader through the shoulders and his eyes had flecks of gold in them. But for all my fear, a half-tamed wildness radiated from him and called seductively to the beast in me. We were alike, him and I, more than he knew or wanted to admit and it terrified me.

"I do not fear death." I said in a flat, almost bored tone.

He smirked and suddenly grabbed my arm in an iron grasp. He turned and dragged me along beside him.

I had to half trot to keep up with him, for I knew he would drag me along the ground if I fell. I was the enemy and he was angry. His brutal pace made it impossible for the villagers to see me clearly, which I suppose was a blessing, but they saw me and his rough treatment of me and it caused a stir. The story would be out before long. I hoped I was dead before then.

As we neared the barracks, another knight hailed the scout, but he was ignored and I did not see if he followed or not. My heart was beginning to pick up, where was he taking me? He jerked my arm painfully when I would have balked at entering the doors to the knights' chambers and I knew there would be bruises. An unreasonable fear rose up in me and made me careless and when he slowed to prevent me from breaking away, I took the opportunity to punch him. I put all the effort into it that I could and caught him on the cheekbone just under his temple, which could have been a devastating blow. It must have caught him completely off guard because his grip loosened enough for me to twist free and I would have made it outside before he recovered had the knight who called to him, not been directly behind.

I looked directly into his startled blue eyes before shoving him, but I was turning at the same time and so was off balance. At a word from the scout, the fair knight caught me and pinned my arms to my sides. I struggled fruitlessly for several moments before I became still and stood breathing heavily and shaking like the dry leaves in autumn and about as noisily. The scout, having fully recovered grabbed a hank of my hair and pulled me from the grasp of the fair knight, to his credit, let me go before I lost too much hair.

I blinked back the tears of anger and pain as the scout hissed, "Try that again and I'll make sure there is nothing left of you for Arthur to try." I stared defiantly back at him.

"Tristan?" the fair knight asked. He was confused no doubt at the violence he saw in his fellow.

The scout turned his eyes, "She's Woad."

The fair knight's jaw dropped, "But she's been here for some time."

The scout gave a curt nod and again started up the corridor. I saw nothing more, but the fair knight's heavier footsteps echoed loudly and I sighed inwardly and gave up all hope.

Relief flared brief and bright when we passed the scout's room and did not enter it, but died just as quickly when I recognized the door I was to go through. It was to Arthur's study and once the door had been pushed open, I was shoved so violently that I fell against the edge of a heavy oak table, hitting my elbow hard enough to break the skin and I began bleeding. I righted myself and ignored the pain and trickling blood to turn my eyes on the scout who stood shoulder to shoulder with the fair knight, blocking my only exit.

"What is the meaning of this?" Arthur asked pushing his desk back into place. I turned back to him and stood sullen and silent.

"Show him." I flinched at the harsh and hating voice of the scout and turned my head to him. He had left the side of the fair knight and was now quite close to me.

"I am not going --" That's as far as I got before he hit me. It was a unexpected, savage backhanded slap that nearly took my head off and had me fighting to keep my feet as I hit the corner of the desk again, this time with my hip. My head swam and I raised a hand to my cheek and fought the stars I saw.

"Tristan!"

The shocked exclamation came from behind me. When my ears had stopped ringing and my sight had stopped blurring, I was surprised to be facing a broad back I could not see around and Arthur was standing at my right. The air in the room was tense enough that I could taste it and under the metallic scent of my blood, I could smell anger and surprise.

I peered around my protector, thinking how ironic it was that he had stepped in front of me. I was quite certain that once he knew what I was, he would immediately regret that action. The fair knight had a hand on the scout's arm. I saw the dark haired man shake off the fairer and stand glaring at the man in front of me.

"Perhaps you should know what it is you protect, before you go any further, Lancelot," He snarled. So it was Arthur's first who stood between me and my tormentor. His shoulders tensed though his casual pose did not relax and he turned to eye me quizzically at the same moment Arthur did.

I brought my hand away from my face and looked at the two pairs of eyes waiting expectantly. The scout hissed at me again and as my eyes flicked to where he stood, I saw the fair knight's eyes glittering in rage. I realized then, that he had only restrained the scout out of reflex, not because he was trying to keep the man form murdering me. I glanced back at Arthur, but clad only in my shift with my arms and half my chest exposed, he had seen enough to know what had driven his scout to such violence. I saw the muscle in his jaw ripple ominously while at the same time, Lancelot's dark eyes went black as a demon's. Those dead, flat eyes frightened me more than the thought of death at the hands of the scout ever had and I backed up until I hit the table and almost fell over it.

Lancelot

I almost felt sympathetic of the fear that I saw in the eyes of the girl as she backed from me, but her kind had killed too many of my brothers for my compassion to go that far. Tristan had been right, had I known what she was; I would have let him beat her. Her eyes widened as she recognized that we knew what she was and her face lost what little color it had had, making already the florid bruise and smear of blood, transferred from her hand to her cheek, on her fine features all the more shocking, but she stood and straightened her shoulders and raised her chin with a defiance that would have surprised me had I not been close enough to see how she clung to the table to still her violent shaking and keep her on her feet.

"Why are you here?" The girl's head snapped to Arthur. She seemed to understand that the quiet voice was more dangerous than if he had roared. She didn't answer, only stared at him, blue eyes wide yet bold. Her rash defiance demanded retribution and I felt the beast that lived in me raise its head to the extent that I had to clench my fists and grind my jaw in order to control it.

It was my bane. A rage that too often bordered on madness, brought about by my incarceration here, brought by the deaths of so many country men at the hands of these wild people, brought by the injustice of the world and the scent of the girl's deep fear and the sight of her bright blood. You would think that after all this time and practice I would be able to control myself better, but I couldn't. It took several seconds of complete concentration to allow the raging blood to recede and for me to reign in the monster and feel myself. It had always been this way. Tristan was not the only one with demons to hide.

"I asked you a question, girl?" Arthur took a step towards her and she drew back. She turned her head to stare at the wall beside him.

"I was sent to spy." Her voice was a mere thread of sound.

"What have you learned?" Arthur asked.

The girl had nowhere to go and her eyes were beginning to lose their brash expression and turn wild. They were wide and rolling and flickered unceasingly from each of us and the door that Gawain guarded with folded arms, giving voice to her frantic desire. She was like a wild animal trapped with no way out and unless we calmed ourselves; we would force her to attack and she would break herself upon us in her attempt to escape. By the mark on Tristan's face, I could guess she already had once. I doubted he would let her survive a second attempt. He was not a forgiving man.

The girl's head jerked from side to side in answer and her increasing fear was all the answer Arthur needed. He nodded and relaxed enough to take his seat once again. I always wondered how he did that, calmed so quickly and as if he had never been angry. He was as hot-headed as the rest of us, only better able to push it down. His calm manner made it possible for us to relax, though I don't think Gawain was in danger of losing control. He was an animal in battle, but it took a lot to provoke him and I doubted this slender girl -- not quite a woman, with fear filled eyes would be able to do it, perhaps had he met her armed and on the field, but not here. Here he only regarded her stonily.

"Have you a name?"

The girl blinked and it seemed to take her a moment to realize that Arthur's tone was no longer so threatening. She took a breath and let it out slowly, "It's Kellan." She said in shakily.

"You know that is an offense punishable by death?" Arthur's voice had taken on a bored quality.

The girl's chin came up again, though it's trembling ruined the look of defiance this time, "Yes."

"But you learned nothing?"

Her eyes narrowed in bewilderment, "No." she responded somewhat uncertainly.

I sighed to myself and kept myself from shifting my weight in annoyance, I knew where he was going with this. Arthur would some day save the world, or so he liked to believe. Any other commander would have killed the girl instantly, without a second thought, or thrown her to his men to do with as they pleased, but not Arthur. No, he rarely punished people with death and never with torture.

"You have been here for six moon spans, have you not?"

The girl's golden brows lifted in surprise as I am sure did mine – even Tristan appeared mildly surprised. I remembered seeing girl, but she was young yet and I hadn't paid enough attention to know how long she had been here. Arthur knew these things, though. He knew all the movements of the people who came in close contact with him and his men – this included servants.

"About that," she seemed more confident now the greatest danger had passed.

Arthur sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture that I knew all to well. "You will never return to the forest again." He declared without looking up.

At his decree, the girl's face again went white and she looked as if she would have preferred him to give an order of execution. I had a feeling we would have all preferred that as well and Arthur did not let me down.

Arthur's hand dropped from his face and he settled back in his chair, examining the girl for a moment, "Since you have learned nothing and will continue to learn nothing, you will stay here." Then he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his eyes taking on the look of the commander he was, but surprisingly the girl did not back away as she had from me. "Should you even be seen looking in the direction of the forest, you will be executed on the spot. Should you ever be found with anything that could be considered a weapon, you will be executed on the spot. Should you ever be seen speaking with any of your get, you will be executed on the spot. Do I make myself understood? There are no second chances here."

The girl nodded numbly, the fight leaving her as it slowly sank in that she was to be a prisoner here for the remainder of her days. I think she would have cried had she not been in our presence, the tears were very close to the surface casing her eyes too look like a rain washed lake. Again I almost felt pity for her. At the end of the time of my servitude, I would go home; she would be trapped here forever. But the thought of the death she might have dealt, for all her tender age and sweet features, hardened my heart against her.

Arthur continued, "And you will be placed in the care of one of my men, until I can trust you."

My jaw dropped and I felt the same shocked reaction from Gawain and Tristan. Tristan raised an eyebrow in disgust and pinned Arthur with a hard look as he shook his head from side to side and left the room in one of his melting movements. Arthur thoughtfully pondered Gawain who would be the perfect choice. He was nurturer, easier to get along with than everyone excepting Dag. Gawain had taken Galahad under his wing from the first; caring for the young boy in the same manner he cared for his brother. He looked after Galahad still, always taking the lead, though Gareth had been gone for years now and there seemed no reason. But Arthur must have decided Gawain would be too soft because after a pregnant pause, he turned his eyes to me. I couldn't repress the warning I gave him as I stared back.

"Lancelot will be you keeper."

After a moment of silent argument, I dipped my head in compliance but could not stop the mocking inflection in my voice, "Sir."

"Keep me updated."

I looked over at my commander and friend, then turned my attention to the girl standing in front of me. I took her by the arm, in the same place I noticed Tristan had dragged her about with and pulled her from the room none too gently.

"Come girl. We will get a room ready for you."

Once the door was closed behind us, I heard her take a deep breath and then she wrenched herself away from me with more strength than I would have thought a girl young as she could possess.

"Get your great, dirty hands off of me." Her eyes flashed and she snarled in a way that made me think perhaps Arthur should have been more adamant about Tristan being her keeper. It was going to be a long couple of years.