Timeless by SheWalksWithRavens
A/N: I have decided that even though characters may have the same name as they did in the past, that it isn't going to be addressed by the characters. Of course they grew up knowing about King Arthur, they are in Britain, that's a given. But the fact that they all seem to have the same names just isn't going to impact the story in any shape or form. That being said, keep in mind that love is never easy and there are always obstacles. That I think is what this story is going to evolve into, a story about overcoming obstacles to get to what you want. And though I didn't state this previously, I think you all know that if I owned anything I wouldn't be on Thanks to my reviewers:
Prissy and Bregan- I am glad you enjoyed this so much. And I saw the trailer for that movie also, it looks like it could be good. And don't you worry, your other favorites are a part of this story.
Jenni- Does Tristan seem that way? I think it is more that he is just drawn to Isolde, this crazy insane woman who is a free spirit. To be quite honest, I think Isolde has a better idea than he does at this point.
Daydream1- I love your hyper nature. The movie is out this January actually. And I'm very glad you enjoy my story and find it to be realistic. And I had no idea that Lancelot and Gawain were disco Kings, you learn something new each day. :)
Also thanks to LancelotTristanBaby, Hunt4Max and Ancalime! To the rest of you, keep reading and keep reviewing.
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Isolde was smiling like an idiot the entire drive home. Laughing to herself about the strangeness of the situation she watched the scenery fly past, letting her hand glide upon the air as it hung out the window. Waiting as a group of teenagers with their own Bridget at the center of the pack crossed the road, Isolde was too distracted to notice that she was across from Vincent's house.
He however, saw Isolde the moment she pulled up and he rushed out to greet her. The sound of his voice calling her name destroyed her moment of perfect bliss and she looked up at him. The smile she wore for Tristan was mistaken as a look of elation for seeing him and he grew more bold.
"Isolde, I am sorry about what happened last night at dinner. Honestly, I did not think...if I had thought it would have upset you as it did, then I would not have accepted your Mother's offer."
"Vincent, its fine...really." Isolde said quickly.
"If you would let me make it up to you, I mean we can just go grab a pint down at Bors' & Vanora's and just talk some things over. We left a lot unsaid..." He trailed off and gave her the smile that he only reserved for her.
"You know what? Lets have that drink...and we'll talk everything out that way it can stop being awkward, deal?" Isolde said remembering what her Mother had said.
"Brilliant! You won't regret it I promise you. How about I pick you up at around 7?" Vincent continued.
"Vincent, its stupid and pointless for you to come get me when you live half-a-block away from the pub and I'm a good fifteen minute drive out of the way. If you want I can swing by and get you, or we can just agree to meet at 7."
Isolde did not want Vincent picking her up. If Vincent picked her up, he would think it was a date. Her Mother would think it was a date and that they were getting back together, and then she'd start planning for a double wedding.
"Alright, alright. You try and be a gentleman and they become feminists. You try to respect their dominance over you, and treat them as equals and they become critical saying chivalry is dead. I can't win with you, can I?" He said chuckling.
"Probably not, but that has never stopped you from trying. I'll see you at seven."
Isolde waved and sped off back in the direction of her house. However, she had one important stop to make to visit a very old friend before she would return to the zoo that was her childhood home. After a successful visit, and an assurance that everything she had asked for would be ready for her later, she regretfully went home but not before taking the long way back.
Her afternoon was spent appeasing her Mother, by "visiting" old friends. In other words, Cordelia wanted to drag Bridget and Isolde around to their neighbors houses to show them off. Bridget was obviously there to display the giant rock that had attached itself to her ring finger, and Isolde was there for 'moral support.'
After being so helpful to her Mother and sister, she managed to escape to her bedroom feigning a headache and took an hour long nap. (Well at least it had started off planning to be a two hour nap but some how along the line it evolved into three.) Waking up she realized that she looked hideous, her hair was sticking out every which way but the right way, her clothing was entirely wrinkled and there was a slight discoloration of her chin where she had drooled on herself.
"Perfect. It will scare away Vincent, then I can let Tristan think I'm crazier than he already believed." Isolde muttered as she pitifully tried to adjust her appearance.
She glanced to the clock and saw that it was 6:15 and she began a string of courses which would make a sailor blush. Throwing everything from her bag on to her bed she realized she had brought nothing suitable to wear. Isolde assumed that this weekend would be spent like all the rest, listening to her mother rattle her about anything and everything until she locked herself in her room and read.
Drastic times, called for drastic measures and taking what little dignity she had left, Isolde marched across the hall and knocked on Bridget's door. Her sister opened it slowly, surprised by Isolde's appearance.
"What on earth? Did Mum need me or something?" Bridget said tapping her foot as she crossed her arms.
"No..Is it really that bad? Look Bridget, this kills me to say this. Trust me, but if you could lend me something to wear tonight I'd take back the statement I made about you being the promiscuous spawn of Satan." Isolde blurted.
"The what!" Bridget's mouth fell to the floor.
"Oh...well..yeah you see...sorry about that? But really, can I just borrow something?" Isolde pleaded.
"What are you getting all dolled up for anyways?" Bridget stated as she walked to her closet and pulled open the doors to reveal an array of stylish clothing.
"I am meeting Vincent for drinks... then I am meeting Tristan." Isolde said slowly.
"Wait...You, Isolde Pritchard, are going out with two men tonight?" Bridget said in disbelief.
"Yes.." Isolde muttered as she looked at the clothes half-afraid and unsure of what to wear.
"On two separate dates?" Bridget continued.
"Yes...stop badgering me and just help me find something to wear...please?" Isolde pulled out a slinky black dress and held it up to her body but Bridget snatched it out of her hand.
"You are in no way wearing my Dolce & Gabana dress. Besides, you'd stretch it all out and it wouldn't look good."
"Alright...sheesh. How about this?" Isolde pulled out another dress, except this one was saffron colored and made of a light weight cotton material.
"Honey, you aren't going to the beach. Ok, so drinks first... that's easy enough. But are you coming home after or going straight out with Tristan?" Bridget queried.
"I am not sure." Isolde said looking confused.
" Right, so one outfit for the evening. Ok, put on these jeans, this halter, and that leather jacket. Wear your black boots, a touch of eyeliner, some blush, a clear gloss on your lips and straighten your hair."
"Bridg, I don't have time for all that... I have to meet Vincent at 7." Isolde protested.
Bridget just pushed a phone into her older sister's hands and yelled at her to call Vincent telling him to meet her at 8 instead because Bridget was having a "wedding crisis." Following her instructions, Isolde did just that and Vincent seemed slightly annoyed but willing to reschedule.
Hanging up, she quickly showered and changed clothing. Finding that the jeans and leather look actually suited her quite well. She had begun to apply her make-up when Bridget burst in and took the eyeliner out of Isolde's hand doing it for her because apparently it wasn't even. Then Isolde was forced into a chair where Bridget meticulously straightened her hair, so that the mass of curls that had gone to the middle of her back was now silky straight and fell to her hips.
"Isolde... let me cut it." Bridget whined.
"No, absolutely not you are not touching my hair!" Isolde screamed.
"Please, please, please. Its just so... boring to have hair like that." Bridget scrutinized.
"My hair is not boring thank you very much." She huffed.
After hearing a screaming match taking place upstairs, Cordelia arrived on the scene with a few choice words for the girls who were making so much noise when Parkinson was on. Instead she found a very glitzy Isolde, and Bridget fighting over a pair of scissors.
"Girls stop this at once!"Cordelia shouted and both girls cowered away.
"Now, will someone tell me without having a screaming fit, what is going on?"
"I think Isolde should cut her hair." Bridget said firmly.
"I couldn't agree with you more." Cordelia stated.
Isolde sunk down in the chair. Her hair, her precious hair that she had only cut once in her entire life, ( Galahad put gum in it when he was six) was going to be hacked off. It was like losing a limb, and she wasn't about to go without a fight.
"No." Isolde crossed her hands over her chest.
"What do you mean 'no?' " Bridget said, her mouth hanging open.
"No, I don't want ridiculously short hair like you, I personally think long hair is more feminine and pretty than what you did to yourself."
"Excuse me, 'what I did to myself?' Isolde, open your eyes, this isn't the medieval times, its 2005. Please, do us all a favor and try and look presentable for once in your life." Bridget spat.
"Give me the scissors Bridget, I'll do it." Cordelia took the silver sheers and stepped up behind Isolde.
Isolde tried to get up to run away, but she was pushed back down into the chair and a towel was wrapped around her shoulders. Then she felt it, the dreaded first cut and the weight being lifted from her head. It was like she had nerves in each strand of hair, and every cut just made her sink lower and lower into herself.
"There, we are finished." Cordelia said smiling.
Bridget looked it over and smiled widely as well. Isolde looked at her hair through the mirror while hiding partially behind her eyes. What she saw made her drop her hands completely, her mother had been remarkably kind to her, only taking off 6 inches of hair instead of the original foot threatened by Bridget. It was still rather long, but it wasn't impossible.
"I can't believe I let you do that." Isolde stammered.
"Yes well, you look better for it. Now, finish getting ready, its almost 8 o'clock." Her mother shooed her from the chair, brushing any stray strands from her outfit.
Finally when Isolde found freedom, it was five minutes after 8 and she had to speed to make it to the pub without appearing really late. The pub was unusually packed tonight, but when she saw that a football game was on the tele, she understood why. England was famous for their football hooligans, and Isolde was damn proud to claim she could be one as well.
Standing on her tip toes, she saw Vincent was sitting at the bar and she took the stool next to him with a large smile. It took Vincent a minute to register that he was looking at Isolde and he spat his beer back into the bottle.
"Blimey, Isolde. You look wonderful." He said recovering slowly.
"Thank Bridget for that. All of this was against my will." Isolde signaled to the woman behind the bar, Vanora that she wanted a Guiness, before taking off her jacket and setting it on her lap.
"I will the next time I see her." Vincent said with an appreciative glare.
"Well, well, look who we have here Bors' the loudest, foul mouthed Manchester United supporter in all of Cumbria." Vanora called to her husband who was at the other end of the bar.
"Yeah, well she should stop looking so smug now that Manchester lost Beckham." He called back as he served a few more men.
"Its good to see you to Bors." Isolde said with a smile
"Aww.. Come here darling. How've ye been, eh? London treating you alright?" He said as he came around the bar and picked Isolde off the floor giving her a crushing hug.
Bors was hardly a small man, and though he could be as gentle as they come if the mood struck him, he wasn't a man to mess with. Vanora threw a dish rag at her husband, who had only wedded her after the birth of their fifth child last summer, and yelled at him to set her down.
"London is wonderful. The pubs are rubbish, they've got nothing on yours." Isolde said returning to her seat.
"That's right. You here that everyone, Isolde here says I have the best pub in all of England!" Bors roared over the noise to receive a chorus of cheers.
"I forgot how much everyone here seemed to love you." Vincent said taking Isolde's hand in his.
Isolde pulled it away and pretended to have to adjust her contact lenses, while giving him a brief smile. She wasn't ready to have Vincent touch her again any time soon, not after what he did.
"Naw... they just missed having something to look at other than Bors' bald head." Isolde shouted, receiving an "I heard that" from across the room.
"I know I missed you." Vincent said softly.
"Well, you know what? You should have thought about how much you were going to miss me, before you hit me." Isolde spat.
"Isolde, here isn't the place for this." Vincent said fearing for his life, if Bors knew that Vincent had laid a hand on Isolde, he'd break his neck for sure.
"You are right, you don't even deserve public humiliation. Why did you want to meet me here tonight, in all honesty Vincent what did you think was going to happen?" Isolde pushed.
"I thought that you might see that I've changed... That maybe we could get back what we had alright?" He spat as he clenched and unclenched his fists, a move not missed by Isolde.
"Vincent, I've moved on. You should too. Look I'm sorry if you can't get over what happened between us, but I have. Now if you would please excuse me, I have to go to the loo." Isolde shoved past him and negotiated through the crowd.
Once inside the bathroom, she went into the nearest stall, shutting the seat and sitting down upon it as she pulled out her cell phone. Isolde had no idea of who to call, but decided that her flat was a safe place to start. It continued to ring until the machine finally picked up and she started laughing to herself over the message: "Hello boys and girls, you've reached Karissa, Shelby and Isolde...we cannot in any condition come to the phone right now. So you know what to do, leave a message after the beep, cheers loves."
It had taken them seven separate attempts to record that without one of them saying something out of sync or cracking up laughing, and you could still here the occasional giggle on the one they ended up using.
"Hello Karissa and Shelby, its your favourite roomate. I just wanted to check in to make sure that you didn't set the bloody place on fire with your horrid cooking. I'll be home on Monday, see ya then pets."
Isolde hung up the phone and briefly adjusted her shirt before heading back out to the bar. She saw Vincent with the waitress her mother had mentioned yesterday hanging all over him. Isolde fought back the urge to scream out "Wench!" But she realized, what did she care? Vincent was not her boyfriend, and being jealous over him was a waste of time. Walking casually over to her stool she picked up her jacket and slipped it on tossing a fiver out on the bar counter for her beer.
Vincent looked startled and started to push the waitress off him but Isolde stayed him with her hand.
"No, don't get up. Honestly, wouldn't want to interrupt something. Just so you know sweetheart, he snores, is a lousy shag and drinks milk from the carton."
Isolde surprised herself with her boldness, attributed it to the stout alcohol and without turning around walked out of the pub into the cool night air. Now that Vincent was out of the picture, she only had to worry about Tristan.
Tristan, the enigmatic man of mystery who stole her muffin and Isolde was afraid that in time he could easily steal her heart. No, she was over reacting, he wouldn't do that. This was an infatuation nothing more. Once the glamour of their meetings disappeared he would be just like any other man, and she would go back to being the girl in the shadow of her younger sister.
But at least she had tonight, and she intended to make it count. Leaving her car outside the pub, she walked off her buzz and headed to finish off the surprise that she had begun to work on for Tristan.
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One...two..three...Scream with me AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Now, that I've gotten that out of my system, let me say that I am as addicted to this as you all are. And you are probably wondering, how does that work, she's the author she knows what's going to happen? Well, I don't. I have no idea of what's going on in the story till I write it. I will try and get chapter 4 up tonight so we can see her meeting with Tristan. But I make no guarantees. Review if you can and Happy Holidays!
