Hey,
here is the fourth chapter, up and ready. To explain how I've changed
it a little, here are some things - Isabelle is only known by Vanora,
Tristan, Lancelot and Marcus Vorenus. The others know her as Safir.
She is still pregnant. Lancelot has been taken by a Roman woman. Her
name is now Isabelle instead of Isabella. Please review and let me know
what you think.
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Here is a RP Site, created by me for people who want a chance to play a character they have always dreamed of. I do not own anything that is related to the games/movies that have contributed to help me build this site. The link is;
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Chapter 4
Lancelot stared up at Isabelle, not believing that she had come all this way - just to help him. "Isabelle." Luckily, Arthur had not yet returned with Dagonet, so it was safe to say her real name, otherwise she would not have even answered him. Tristan may have looked like he wasn't paying any attention, but he was.
"What is it?" she replied, kneeling down beside the bed. Even though it took nearly all his strength, Lancelot eased himself up onto his elbows.
"I… I… Thank you," he said, reaching out to touch her cheek. "I think you'd look pretty with your long hair." He moved his hand to finger a strand of her lose, wavy, short brown hair. Isabelle went red in the cheeks at how he was treating her. Her feelings for him went beyond friendship, just as her feelings went for Tristan, but she would never be able to tell him - one, because of his ways with women and two, they would eventually be caught and she would be exposed - maybe after their service they could when in Sarmatia, if they survived.
Her exposure would probably mean her banishment. She took hold of his hand and slowly pulled it away from her hair.
"You know that there can never be anything between us Lance. We would get caught," she whispered. Tristan was stabbing the seat of his chair with one of his daggers, trying to block out their words. Isabelle stood up and walked over to stand beside Tristan just as the door opened. Arthur entered, followed closely by Dagonet. He looked at Safir, who merely nodded in greeting before gesturing towards the bed, where Lancelot was laying down once again.
"How will we get him out of here?"
Isabelle spoke - in her boyish accent, of course - "If you and Dagonet can get him out the window, I'm sure that I can get him to the forest and to the wall in two days, while you act normal around the Roman woman and leave at first light."
Arthur smiled at his youngest knight and ruffled the boy's hair, earning a growl from the young knight. "I think that's the safest idea and it might actually work." Dagonet nodded from where he tended to Lancelot, while Tristan merely stood and walked out.
- - -
Isabelle nodded at Dagonet and Arthur as she helped Lancelot support himself onto her shoulders. "See you soon, my friends." Arthur and the healer knight watched as the fifteen year-old kept to the early morning shadows, hiding from the sentries on the fort walls.
"Isabelle, have I ever told you that you are the most beautiful Sarmatian woman I've ever seen?"
"Lancelot, you're hurt," she replied, smiling when she found her horse still waiting for her, patiently tethered to the tree. Helping Lancelot up into the saddle, she climbed up behind him and leaned the tired knight back against her body as she urged her mount forward. "Come on girl. Let's get as far as we can away from this place."
- - -
Tristan raised his bow and aimed cleanly for the target on the other side of the archery range. Something moved behind him and he spun, coming face to face with the Roman woman. She smiled, hoping that he would lower the bow. Tristan's arm never once faltered as he stood before the woman.
"You're a barbarian, like all your kind. I know how to tame you, though. Give you what you want more than anything in the world," she said, pushing the bow down as she began to circle the knight. Tristan watched her. She knew of nothing that he wanted, so how could she give it to him.
"You don't know what I want."
"Safir. I know the young knight is a girl. I visited the wall once, to see my brother. I must say, she could've fooled me, until I saw her smile. With her short hair and bound chest, she can fool your friends. You know of her secret as does the younger knight. What would you be willing to do, in order to protect her?"
Tristan looked at the ground. For once the past seven years, he had not once shown any emotion around people. At the mention of Isabelle's exposure though, he felt his passive expression falter. He then felt the eyes of a few men on them. "I'd kill you; whore, if you did not have your guards bows trained on me."
Her eyes widened in surprise. The knight was better than she had first guessed. "Well, you and I need to come to some sort of agreement, then. Say, you for her? A strong man in my bed is what I need."
Tristan looked at where her hand lay on his chest. "Lady, you are a witch and four years my senior. This will be our agreement; you never speak a word of her true identity, and I'll let you live."
His words were low and harsh and he meant every one of them. She pulled away, nodding slightly. "Good. But, don't worry knight. I'll have my way soon enough." Turning, she stalked off, her back straight and her body rigid as she made her way back inside.
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Night came sooner than expected for Isabelle, who rejoiced at finding a cave - hidden behind a waterfall - for their resting place. Dismounting, when they entered the cave, she remembered to check Lancelot for fever the way Dagonet had taught her to. He mumbled something incoherent as she began pulling him off the horse. Creating a small camp and lighting a fire, so she could see, Isabelle shifted Lancelot onto her bedroll and covered him with another blanket. Putting the back of her hand to his forehead, she withdrew quickly at feeling his skin was cold, very cold. Dagonet had once told her, that in order to heat another person's body was skin to skin contact. Looking over at Lancelot, she found him laying there, shivering. Making a choice, she moved over to Lancelot and put her hand to his cheek, making him stir.
"Isa…"
"Sh. It's alright. I'm here. Lance, I need to undress you. You're freezing, I have to keep you warm," she explained as she moved and began to unlace his boots. Looking down at herself, she knew that undressing meant showing Lancelot the scars and bruises from Vorenus's torture. But this put Lancelot's health in even more trouble if she didn't.
He would do the same for you, if it was your life in trouble her mind shot back. Sighing back the tears, she slowly began to unlace the ties of her armour and pull it off. Lancelot moved slightly and Isabelle froze. He still had his pants on but she was still afraid of being naked around men, especially Lancelot, who had known so many women. Continuing to undress, Isabelle climbed into the bedroll and eased Lancelot out of his pants. Many times when they were younger, she had seen him naked, when they had gone swimming and she had to stay on the bank, using the excuse that she couldn't swim to keep the others from pulling her in. This was different though. She was a fifteen year old girl who was lying naked with her closest and dearest friend. Taking one of his hands in her smaller ones, she pressed a kiss to his palm and laid it over her waist. Her hands moved to his chest and she shut her eyes, moving closer to him as she did. His body was cold, but strong and his breathing sounded normal. Resting her head beneath his chin, she slowly ran her hand up and down his chest, trying to heat his body back up, but also swallowing at feeling the muscles beneath her fingertips. A memory came to her mid and she shuddered at the thought as she shut her eyes, giving them some rest.
Arthur had asked someone to check in the stables one day for Lancelot's necklace, he'd dropped it somewhere. Being the youngest of the group and Lancelot's closest friend next to Arthur had chosen to help look. The stables had been deserted when she had entered, so she didn't receive any strange looks or questions as to what she (he, Safir) was doing. She had found the necklace in Morrigan's stall.
Lancelot usually helped her tend to her mare, Morrigan, which was probably why it was there.
"Ah! Little knight." She had turned sharply, and gasped in fright. Marcus Vorenus was leaning against the stall door. "Come here."
Isabelle knew that Vorenus had guessed she was a girl on her first day here, so there was no point trying to trick him. Carefully and timidly, she had stepped closer to him, knowing the penalty for disobeying a Roman officer. In that one step, that one moment when she was within his reach, he had grabbed the eleven year old and forcefully shoved her into the tack room. Her smaller body had been pinned to the wall by the Roman's hands. She had fought for merely a second or two as he pulled their clothing undone. Pain had made the eleven cry out. He had covered her mouth in order to silence her screams, but no one would have even heard her, for she was inside the tack room, the door was shut, the Roman held her prisoner and there was no one else in the stables. When the Roman had finished his business with her, he had dropped her to the ground.
"Tell anyone…"
"I won't, I promise," she struggled quickly. He merely smirked, fixing his clothing up as she did, her cheeks stained with tears.
"I'll come to you. Try and do anything funny and you'll pay," he threatened. Even as she watched him leave, a feeling of despair, weakness, self-pity and fear had washed over her. When she had been able to walk again and the last of her tears were wiped away, she had gone to Lancelot's rooms. No one had been in there, so she had placed it on his desk and had left.
Isabelle jolted awake. She felt tears threatening to fall, and try as she may to hold them back, they slid down her cheeks. Forgetting that she was laying half across a naked Lancelot, she buried her head into his chest. Arms slid around her and she pulled her head away before looking up into Lancelot's now open eyes.
"Isabelle." She felt her eyes start to roll back and felt Lancelot's arms tighten around her when she fainted. He hadn't realised their current condition, until Isabelle had fainted. "Why do you keep fainting?" He would question her on it when she woke up. Feeling better than what he had been, he grabbed his pants and pulled them on, before moving Isabelle into a better position. Looking at her, he felt himself tempted to remove the blanket, but his conscience got the better of him. His gaze moved to her face and he sighed heavily before kissing her on the forehead. Pulling away, he sat beside the fire. She had said Vorenus's name when she had been asleep. But why?
