Disclaimer: i own nothing but my characters...
Vintersong: thanks for reviewing
lucillaq: Rhyne and Gwen are not real sisters, but call themselves that for a reason you will find out this chapter. The next few chapters are probably going to be really emotional...if you cry easily in stories like me...well, that is if I write it good enough...
Morwen12: thanks for reviewing...glad you like it
LancelotTristanBaby: thanks for reviewing
KnightMaiden: that's true...no visuals...lol
WARNING: And Sparrow got kidnapped...an if you get really quesy with abuse and stuff like that you may want to just skim over the part in this chapter where it goes back to Sparrow...and sorry about it...but the next few chapters probably up to the end will be very emotional...well, if I write it well enough...so be ready if you cry easily when you read stories and stuff...
Justice Will Rhyne
Chapter Twenty-Five- Fairy Tales
Rhyne was trying to avoid Arthur as much as possible. She did not want him to corner her alone and force information out of her about Guinevere, and why they called each other sister. They were not real sisters of course, but they were vowed to the Great Dragon as sisters. Rhyne rode along side Lancelot most of the first day with the caravan, or else she rode in the wagon carrying the injured, helping to care for them. She knew all the knights were curious on how they knew each other, but none pressed the issue. They felt the tension between both her and Arthur, and her and Tristan, so they forced themselves not to say anything. Rhyne was not speaking to Tristan either. He was scouting mostly, only coming back to report and rest before going out again. That is where he was now, and would be gone for most of the night.
Rhyne walked through camp towards the wagon carrying the injured. Rhyne looked at the scar on her right palm. It was still a little pink from being reopened a few weeks ago. It was the scar that only she, the Dragon and Guinevere share. It was the first cut that she and Guinevere sisters. She only opened it a few times.
Rhyne saw Dagonet, with Lucan wrapped and sitting in his lap, with Tarí on side of him and Bors on the other leaning against one of the wheels of the wagon, small fire before them. Apparently, Dagonet was telling her a story which Rhyne thought very odd. Bors was the one to tell the stories, Dagonet adding some things here and there. Tarí's laugh was light and cheery. Dagonet smiled brightly at her, and continued with the story. Lucan was smiling as well, though, very weakly. A fever began to rise in the little boy when Rhyne helped Dagonet set the broken bone in Lucan's arm.
Rhyne smiled as she walked closer to the scene in front of her. She had never seen Dagonet smile so widely. She stayed in the shadows, hearing them speak. "…and so in the height of our interest and surprise in what Jols reported, we all made our way to the stables to see for ourselves." He paused for a moment.
"And what did you see?" Tarí asked impatiently.
"Rhyne was indeed trying to teach Tristan how to dance, but he was failing miserably. His feet always going the wrong direction. His hands never on time or in the right place. He even tripped over his own feet once, and that is very unusual for Tristan. You never see him look awkward anywhere, only around Rhyne. It was a hilarious sight." The three of them laughed.
Rhyne snorted and walked form the shadows. "Of all the stories to tell her, you must choose that one," she smiled in mirth.
"Tarí was wondering how you came into our presence, and that memory came to mind," Dagonet explained with a smile.
"And you just couldn't resist," Rhyne added. There were laughs all around. "Fine, fine. But don't embarrass me in the process."
"And what of the scout?" Bors asked.
"Oh," Rhyne smiled. "You can embarrass him all you like." She chuckled.
"You two are having a rift." Dagonet said. It was not a question.
"I snapped at him when I shouldn't have, that's all," she breathed.
"Just walk up and kiss him," Bors suggested. "That will make it all right."
Rhyne eyed her friend with amusement. "That doesn't work for all of us, Bors."
They laughed and Rhyne walked to the entrance of the wagon but stopped. "You do know if Tristan hears you telling that one, he would kill you."
Tarí gasped. "He wouldn't!" She laid a hand on Dagonet's arm.
Rhyne smiled. "Oh he would." She climbed into the wagon and heard Tarí begin to plead with Dagonet to not get killed on her account. Rhyne shook her head and smiled. They would be good for each other. Rhyne walked to the back of the wagon where Guinevere was sitting up against the back wall, furs wrapped around her. "Greetings sister," Rhyne said in the British language.
"Greetings," Guinevere replied. They took each other's right hands. Where their scars resided.
"Your father is worried for you," Rhyne spoke, as they continued to speak in the same language.
"You have seen him?"
Rhyne nodded. "A few times."
"Is he well?"
"As well as can be expected. How long were you down there?" Rhyne said in disgust.
"I honestly don't know. At least a few weeks. Though, it could have even been a few months," Guinevere answered.
"Why?"
"Why do you think?"
Rhyne growled. "Did he get that far?"
Guinevere shook her head. "No, thank the Gods. I got lucky because you and the knights came." She took Rhyne's hand. "Thank you."
"I was not the one who saved you," Rhyne smiled.
The Woad nodded her head. "How goes it with Arthur?"
"He is more stubborn than I thought. But I have seen a change in the last few days. I think he needed to see proof. Perhaps you can help me with the rest?"
"Me?"
"I have seen the way he looks at you, and you at him." Rhyne smiled again, but wider. "It could help us."
"He doesn't know I am Merlin's daughter. That would be a bit of a shock for him."
"He will know soon enough, but I do not think it will matter in the long run."
Guinevere eyed her sister. "What are you planning?"
"I think Merlin knew this would happen. All of it, all along. He wants to meet Arthur," Rhyne explained.
"How do you know that?"
Rhyne closed her eyes. "He is close." She opened her eyes again. "Can't you feel him?"
Guinevere shook her head. "I am too weak. When does he want to meet?"
Rhyne closed her eyes again, and heard a whisper in her mind. "Tomorrow night," she said with she opened them again. "Arthur is wondering why I know you. He wants to ask, I can see it in his eyes. He wants to know why I call you sister."
"Will he take the truth well, or will he think you betrayed him?"
"I don't know," Rhyne breathed. "But it must be done." She took a deep breath. "I heard you today, speaking to him when he relocated your fingers. "The famous Briton that kills his own people." Rhyne smiled. "Nice touch."
"It's true, is it not?"
"Yes it is, but I think that one statement has taken him aback more than anything else he has ever heard." They laughed and Rhyne sighed. "You had better sleep; we will travel all day tomorrow." They took each other's hands again and Rhyne left the wagon. The three sitting by the fire never saw her exit.
Rhyne walked over to the fire Lancelot sat by alone and took a seat across from him. "Rhyne?" Lancelot called over the flames.
"Hmm?" she looked up at him.
"Why are you sitting with me?"
"No reason," she shrugged. "Either with you or alone."
"And Tristan?"
"What about him?"
"Have you two spoken at all today?"
"Does everybody know we have not spoken?" she snapped plopping onto her back, staring up at the growing moon.
"Well, neither of you talk that much to begin with, and when you don't talk at all, it's not that tough to miss." He sighed. "What happened?"
"I snapped, and we had a disagreement."
"About the girl." It was not a question. Rhyne looked from the moon to Lancelot. Her face showed nothing. "How do you know her? Arthur said you called each other sisters." It was a seriousness Rhyne had not seen from Lancelot before. "Why are you friends with her? She's a Woad."
"So am I," she answered simply, laying on her back and gazing at the stars once more.
"You are one of us," Lancelot corrected.
"Who has a British Princess for a mother, who is a Princess herself?" Rhyne did not want to talk about this, not yet. Lancelot figured that much with the tone she used, so he kept silent.
Bors and Dagonet continued to entertain Tarí with stories of their childhood and the beginning of their adventures. Their conversations settled down for a few moments as Dagonet put Lucan to sleep beneath the cover of the cart. Once he sat back down Tarí was looking wistfully into the flames before them. "How did they fall in love?"
"What?" Bors asked.
"Rhyne and Tristan…how did they fall in love? They seem so different from each other. How could after that many years of separation, they love as fiercely as they do?"
Both Dagonet and Bors were silent for a long moment. "That, I think," Dagonet smiled lightly, "will have to be something you ask her." Tarí looked back into the fire. "But I think that they are the only ones who truly understand one another. They are both complicated people." She smiled. "Now we all should rest. We will be traveling all day tomorrow." Soon Tarí slept in between Dagonet and Lucan, Bors not far from them.
In the morning, Rhyne helped get the villagers ready for their long trek through the East Mountains. Tristan had not returned to the camp until the sun was rising. He had camped out on the trail. Probably a good thing, for both of them. Just before they were ready to start their long journey again Tristan came galloping up on his dapple grey. He galloped right passed her. She could not tell if he looked at her because of the hair in front of his eyes. Rhyne looked down sadly than went back to work. Tarí came up next to her, loading the pile of blankets she used last night onto the cart. "Still nothing?"
Rhyne looked at the young woman. "No. But we don't talk much to begin with. It was never needed. A simple look or touch can say a thousand words."
"You two seem the most unlikely pair. How is it that you fell for one another?"
Rhyne smiled warmly. "We were children. My father had just died, protecting Arthur's father who died as well. Arthur and I might as well be brother and sister. There were twenty five of them in the beginning."
"Twenty five? And now there are so few."
"For fifteen years they served. Now only six remain." Rhyne closed her eyes a moment, and then smiled again. "We all became good friends. At first Tristan was very distant, like he is now. But one night, when I went up to the battlements, I began to cry for my father and mother. Then I realized someone was there with their arms around my shoulders comforting me. It was Tristan. I cried for hours onto his shoulder. I was ten at the time, and he was thirteen. He carried me home that night."
"That is so sweet," Tarí gave her cute thoughtful smile.
Rhyne chuckled. "Oh but it gets better. The next morning, he brought me a rose when he came to breakfast. I helped in the tavern with those who became my foster parents. It was from that moment on we were inseparable. He continued to help teach me the sword and bow, I showed him how to sneak out of the fort and to a small lake in a thick of woods, and he was the one who was there for me when I cried."
"Is that how you came to love him?"
Rhyne looked up at the grey sky. The clouds moved east, and for a single moment, a hole in the sky opened and the sun peeked through the darkness, then it closed once more. "I fell in love with him not because we were the same, and not even because we were different, but because the way we saw the world the same. We saw it differently than everyone else, but we still learned from each other. Everything grew from there."
"That's what Dagonet said. That you understood each other." Tarí smiled and Rhyne nodded.
A/N (This is where the warning applies...so you might want to skip ahead to the next break...)
Her head was throbbing. Her eye lids were sore as she lifted them. Sparrow groaned at the brightness of the light. She went to lift a hand to shield the gleam from her eyes and realized she couldn't. Her hands were bound, as well as her feet, and a cloth was wrapped around her mouth. Panic set in she began thrashing her body about to try and loosen the binds. A voice made her stop. "Quit!" Two strong hands grabbed her shoulders roughly and turned her around on the bed. The memories of last night flood back to her and her eyes widened in fear. "The Bishop should be on his way soon." She did not hear him, but instead went looking around the room. She did not recognize it. They were not in the inn. It must be the village.
Sparrow closed her eyes and a single tear fell down her cheek. There was no way out. They sat there are waited. The man occasionally looked at her with a lustful smile on her face. Sparrow decided to close her eyes permanently and think. She still had her dress on from last night and carried nothing on her that would be able to cut through the rope on her hands. She cursed her self for being so stupid. Somewhat for talking the tes from him, but mostly for not having a knife on her. Her thoughts traveled to Lancelot as the door to the room was opened a group of three men entered. One she recognized as Bishop Germanus. Despite her fear, Sparrow glared at him as he gave her a smile. "Hello my dear. I trust you remember me." She didn't move. "Yes, well. We have some things to talk about. Remove the cloth," he ordered.
One man moved towards her and she shank backwards, but he pulled her tied hands to him and yanked off the cloth over her mouth. Sparrow saw the flash of a dagger at his belt and lunged for it. She was too quick for him, and stabbed him in the shoulder. He howled in pain. Sparrow was suddenly pulled backwards and slammed against the wall, making her fall to the ground. She got to her hands and knees and left a swift kick in the ribs which made her hunch over in pain.
She was picked up and dropped back onto the bed where her hands her unbound and retied one to each of the bed posts over her head. The same with her legs. She was going nowhere now. The Bishop sat on the bed next to her and laid his hand on her stomach. Her muscles tensed under his touch, and she was glad it was a dress she wore and not a tunic so he could reach underneath. "You are quite a beautiful girl. Like your mother." His fingers moved up her torso and squeezed one of her breasts. Sparrow clinched her eyes tight as the men standing behind him laughed.
His hand rested there, and Sparrow opened her eyes and spoke firmly. "What do you want with me?"
He laughed. "I want nothing with you. It is your mother. We are old friends."
"She is no friend with a Roman Bishop, of that I am sure."
"Well, not exactly friends." Sparrow could barely stand his smile. "We met once before. Before you were born, and I have not liked the way she has treated me since my arrival."
Sparrow's eyes narrowed. "You will get nothing from me," she said through clenched teeth.
"Oh darling, it is not the idea at all." He paused. "You are here because of what an insolent, barbaric, savage whore your mother is." His tone hardened with every word.
Sparrow's gaze never faltered. She knew what was happening now, but she would stay strong for as long as possible. "Know this, whatever it is you do to me, it will come back to you three fold. They will not let my suffering go unpunished. You will only be adding wood to the fire."
"No, no dear. They have not the courage to strike me, if they live that is."
"Oh they will live," Sparrow said. "Their will is stronger than you think." Sparrow gathered spit in her mouth and blew it out of her mouth hard, hitting the Bishop square in the face. His men rushed forward, but he put his hand up and they stopped. Sparrow smiled with what little satisfaction it gave her. He wiped the spit from his face and saw her smirk. He slapped her hard with the back of his ringed hand. She showed no reaction, only turned her passive face back to him and said nothing.
He smiled and stood. "Have a good time, dear." With that he left the room.
The three men looked at her expectantly and stepped forward. Sparrow tried to look unfazed, but the closer they got the more her barrier between strength and panic lowered. Then as one man tied the cloth around her mouth again and another lifted the skirt of her dress, she creamed and tears began falling. She feared for the baby, and prayed to any and all Gods that existed to save and protect the life growing inside of her. Sparrow struggled against them as much as they could, which did not put up much of a fight. Two men cut the bindings from her feet and spread her legs wide, as the third climbed on top of her. She pulled at her wrists so hard she felt a bone pop out of place, but it did not faze her. She closed her eyes tight as he got into position grabbed her hips roughly and drove into her hard. She screamed, but it sounded like no more than a moan of pleasure on the other side of the door to the people walking past. They took turns with her that day, and abused her late into the night.
Soon the caravan was on its way and Tristan went out scouting again. It began snowing. Rhyne was riding next to the opening of the cart which Guinevere sat at the opening of with a fur wrapped around her. They shared an occasional word here and there in their native language. There was a while in which Lucan sat in the Woad Princess's lap and she sang him a song. It involved the movement of her hands, and Rhyne soon began singing along. She had sung the same thing to Sparrow as a young girl. Lucan laughed and smiled merrily. The knights slowly drifted near to the voice of Guinevere who had not spoken to them much at all. She was looking much stronger than she had the past night, Rhyne decided. Soon Lucan was thoroughly exhausted and went back to sleep.
"So how is your knight?" Guinevere asked Rhyne in their language.
"As well as can be expected."
"He did not look friendly this morning."
"Yes, well, lover's quarrel, what can I say." The women chuckled.
"What did he say about Sparrow?"
"He considers her a daughter now. It appears I finally have a family," Rhyne smiled down on her sister.
Guinevere repeated the smile. "I am happy for you, Rhyne. After everything you have gone through, you deserve a little peace."
"Yes well, that is not going to happen until he Saxons are defeated…and if we by some miracle live threw it," Rhyne looked ahead and saw Lancelot and Arthur staring back at them. "They are looking back here again."
Guinevere looked forward as well. Arthur was now moving his horse towards them. The two sisters looked at each other and smirked wicked. Rhyne knew what she was going to do. It would be the first time Guinevere could truly speak to him. This should be fun, Rhyne thought. Arthur stopped his horse opposite Rhyne, and gave both women a look before turning his gaze back ahead. "My father told me great tales of you," Guinevere said.
"And what did you hear?" Arthur did not look at her.
"Fairy tales. About people so brave so selfless they cannot be real…Arthur and his knights. A leader both Briton and Roman." Rhyne smiled. "But you chose your allegiance to Rome. Those who take what does not belong to them. That same Rome that took your men from their homelands…"
Arthur turned his horse abruptly and he disagreed with the jerk. "Listen, Lady. Do not presume that you know anything about me or my men."
"How many Britons have you killed?" she asked calmly.
"As many that tried to kill me," Arthur replied. "It is a natural state of any man to want to live."
"Animals live!" Guinevere angrily snapped. "It is a natural state of any man to want to live free, in their own country!" She stared at him a moment, then smiled again. "I belong to this land, where do you belong, Arthur?"
"Is that why they tortured you, because you were free?"
"Far too free." Arthur looked at Rhyne at the answer. He had heard it before.
"How are your hands?" he asked softly.
"I'll live I promise you." Guinevere gave him a flirty smile. "Is there nothing of my land that appeals to your heart? Your own father married a Briton. Even he must have found something to his liking." With that Arthur galloped away. Lancelot fell in beside Rhyne and glanced back a Guinevere. "Tis a beautiful country is it not?"
Lancelot looked around and shrugged. "If you say so."
"And where do you come from that compares? The Black Sea. This is heaven for me."
"I don't believe in heaven, I have been living in this hell." Without thinking Lancelot continued. "But if you represent what heaven is then take me there."
Rhyne snapped her head at him and smacked him hard behind the head. Guinevere looked disgusted. Rhyne had told her this knight was with Sparrow. She snorted when Rhyne hit him. "I pray that you are far more deft with your sword than with your flattery." Sulking, Lancelot rode away.
The rain picked up along with the white flurries. Rhyne looked up at the sky and grimaced. "A bad omen."
"Aye," Guinevere nodded grimly and brought the fur tighter to her body.
They made their way to the place they would camp that night. Tristan had reported back that the area was safe and Arthur sent him out again. Tristan passed Rhyne with no intention of looking at her was his hawk jumped from his shoulder to hers. "Hello there, girl," Rhyne smiled and scratched the bird's head. It nibbled on her ear as Tristan came trotting up beside them. Rhyne turned to him and her smiled faded a bit. "Tris," Rhyne said simply.
"It seems she wants us to speak," he replies passively.
"Yes it does." Rhyne just looked at him a moment, then turned away. "I never meant to insult you like I did," she sighed. "But I am tired of people asking how I am doing." The hawk flew into the sky at that. The both watched her go.
Tristan looked back at Rhyne and saw how he refused to look at her. He reached over and pulled her chin to force his eyes to him. They just looked at each other a moment before he crushed her lips to his. She smiled against his lips as the kiss went deeper. Tristan pulled her onto his lap and tightened his grip around the small of her back. When they pulled apart Tristan whispered into her ear. "I'm sorry."
"I missed you." They kissed again and then Tristan lifted her to her own horse.
"I have to go, but will see you in the morning." He gave her one last kiss and rode of behind them.
The camp was settled and night was falling. Rhyne sat with Dagonet, Bors and Tarí as they readied fire and ate some of their stored food. They were telling stories again, but Rhyne kept the back of her mind open to listen for Merlin's presence. Rhyne was in the middle of laughing, remembering a certain scheme she planned against Lancelot when they were children.
"So, because of his arrogant self," Rhyne laughed as she spoke, "I came up with a plan."
"Oh, yes!" Bors bellowed. "You would never believe the evils the Little Witch carries."
"So what did you do?" Tarí asked.
"We got the prettiest boy we could find around the same age and paid him a generous amount of money to play along. The amount did not matter to us, for the laughs would be worth it," Rhyne explained. "So we dressed him up as a girl, dress make-up and all and told him the plan."
"We all hid in the rafters of the stables and waited," Dagonet went on. "Lancelot came wondering in, and soon after the boy followed. Automatically, Lancelot moved to woo her."
"And with our instruction, we told him to play plain hard to get, and then give him, and let Lancelot go on and do his thing," Rhyne smiled.
"And so…what happened?"
Bors told the end, "Lancelot kissed him, and the boy removed his wig!" he paused so all could laugh. "The boy pointed up at in the rafters and Lancelot turned."
"He had the most horrified look on his face I have ever seen, and we could not hold our breath anymore, we laughed so hard!" Rhyne said.
"That is so cruel!" Tarí exclaimed with a merry look.
"Yes," Rhyne nodded. "But is will never be forgotten."
The stories went on as the sun set and the moon rose into the still stormy sky. It began to snow again, and all tightened their cloaks around them. Hawk snuggled close to Rhyne and she wrapped part of her cloak around him. Her thoughts traveled to Tristan as she looked ahead of her. She saw Guinevere speaking with Lancelot across his own fire. She watched closely, for Sparrow's sake. But nothing happened. They had short words and Guinevere walked away.
It was not long after that when Rhyne felt a surge at the back of her mind. He was ready. Rhyne closed her eyes and whispered to Guinevere in her mind. She got the message. Rhyne stood. "I cold, I have to walk for a while." The three nodded at her. "You coming, Little Brother?"
Rhyne walked into the forest and saw Guinevere leading Arthur away, she followed them silently.
How was it...good...bad...too much...?