Disclaimer: nothing that you recognise belongs to me.
Kyrie glanced over at Lucy and bit her lip to keep from smiling too obviously. The blonde girl was doing her best to pay attention to the customers in the tavern, but it was obvious that her mind was not on the job, and given her untidy hair and the haphazard lacing of her dress, Kyrie had a fair idea why.
Not that she could judge, she thought ruefully. Several patrons had had ale slopped over them when she hadn't been looking where she was going, and while her cooking wasn't yet as life threatening as Lucy's, it was certainly not up to her usual standard. Meeting the other girl's eyes, they both smiled knowingly at each other. There would be time later to gossip and giggle, but for the moment it was enough just to be understood - to be hold secrets that held joy rather than sorrow.
"Van!" Bors's voice bellowed through the tavern, and his lover slammed down the ale jug that she had been filling. She had been run off her feet that afternoon, both the usually dependable Kyrie and Lucy distracted and careless. She didn't really mind - indeed guessed the cause of their inattention and wished them well, but it did make her own job a lot more difficult.
"Sirs." With a slightly sarcastic smile, she carried over a fresh pitcher to the knights' table, and was only slightly mollified when Bors pulled her onto his lap and hugged her to him.
"Get off me, you big brute," she said with an attempt at outrage. "Some of us have work to do."
Bors gave a hearty chuckle and kissed her on the cheek. "Such a beautiful woman must earn a rest every now and again. Let Lucy and Kyrie take over."
"Lucy and Kyrie are distracted," Vanora said dryly, giving Tristan and Galahad a knowing look. "And if I'm not there to keep an eye on them, then the whole tavern will end up poisoned by Lucy's stew."
"Lucy's cooking?" Arthur glanced at the tavern owner with a slightly perturbed expression upon his face. "Are you sure that's wise?"
"It's not wise it's prudent," Vanora said, sliding off Bors's lap. "A little bout of sickness and a couple of days in bed alone," she looked pointedly at the scout and the youngest knight, " might give everyone a chance to regain their wits." Tossing her red hair back she kissed Bors thoroughly and winked at the knights. "If I were you then I'd prepare for another couple of weddings in the near future," she said to Arthur. "Either that or you are going to have to look for new girls for me to recruit to the tavern."
The king laughed. He had known Vanora since they were both teenagers, and she was one of the only people who took no notice of his titles and privileges. She had been the first girl that he had kissed, and while his heart belonged to Guinevere, it was nice that the fiery red-head remained a close friend and as feisty as ever.
"You actively encourage the poisoning of my knights?" Arthur shook his head in mock rebuke, but his words were amused; he had seen the difference in Galahad and Tristan and inwardly rejoiced at their happiness. "If you were a man then I'd have you strung up for such disloyalty."
Vanora was familiar with this game and looked at the big Roman with innocent eyes. "Were I a man Arthur, you would have defeated the Saxons an awful lot quicker." With a wink she headed off to the kitchen muttering about fragile Samartians in a way that, had the words been uttered by anyone else, would have resulted in bloodshed.
Kyrie watched the exchange of words between her boss and the King with reluctant admiration.
"She really knows no fear, does she?" she muttered to Lucy.
"Hmm," the blonde girl muttered non-committedly. She had sat with Vanora too many times when Bors was away and the red-haired woman wound tight with worry ,to be completely convinced by her act, but she had never tried to talk to her about it. When your lover fought for Rome and left you at the whim of men who had never even set foot in the country, then you dealt with it as best you could, she reasoned. Glancing at the back of Tristan's shaggy head, she inwardly acknowledged that she herself had chosen the same fate, even as her heart soared at the mere sight of him. Sighing, she hefted the large bucket of dirty water from the sideboard and kicked the back door open without spilling too much on the floor. "I'll be back in a minute," she called to Kyrie, who, attempting to salvage the somewhat burnt beef stew, nodded but did not look up.
Tipping the water onto the grass behind the tavern, Lucy watched as it split into rivulets before disappearing into the ground. The air was cool, the sky darkening as the sun slid behind the hills, and for a brief moment she just stood and watched the forest, enjoying the tranquillity. The past few days had been beyond confusing, and while she was careful to keep an eye out for trouble and stay close to the tavern, it was nice to have a moment to gather her thoughts. When we are married, Tristan had said, and he of all people was not one to let words slip without meaning them. Indulging herself, she imagined a house full of laughing children with golden eyes, a man who would hold her tightly at night even when her hair was as grey as his. It seemed strange to feel so happy, so complete, given the circumstances, and swinging the bucket beside her, she vowed to speak to Llynya as soon as she had a chance. Kyrie was sweet, but far too preoccupied to give advice at the moment, and the older woman always listened and spoke fairly, even though she might have to endure an I told you so, Lucy thought ruefully. The brief flash of movement at the corner of her eye almost went unnoticed, but far more alert than she usually was, Lucy caught it and ducked out of sight without thinking.
It took a moment to recognise the figure that was slinking towards the forest; the figure moved with the shadows, but once identified she was impossible to miss. Guinevere. Lucy dropped the bucket, her heart pounding. Upon the Woad princess's back was the unmistakable shape of an a bow and quiver. Guinevere was going hunting, and this time her prey was far more dangerous than deer, she realised. For a moment she hesitated - go back to the tavern and warn Arthur or try and stop the future queen? Guinevere was almost out of sight, and she knew that there would be no finding her if she did not want to be found. If she could only talk to her or at least make enough noise to ruin any of her attempts at stealth , then perhaps she could make her reconsider. Picking up her skirts, Lucy raced down the meadow, her hair flying, her feet stumbling and skidding over the uneven ground. Guinevere was fast, but she showed far more care than her pursuer, and it did not take long for Lucy to catch her up.
"Guinevere? Lady?" Lucy slid to a halt at the head of the main path, her heartbeat thundering in her ears, her breath ragged. Looking around desperately, she saw no sign of the queen and inwardly despaired. Guinevere was a Woad who had years of experience in the woodland, she was a village girl who was capable of getting lost in their tiny village. She had no idea where to start looking, or even if she should do so at all. Backing up, she jumped in fright when a voice spoke behind her.
"What are you looking for, Lucy?" Guinevere slid from the trees with a grace that was almost ghostlike, however her eyes flashed with irritation. "You shouldn't be out here alone."
"Neither should you." Lucy spoke without thinking, fear and relief overcoming any attempt at propriety.
The young Woad gave a half laugh and appraised the other girl , before pointing back towards Hadrains Wall. "Go home, this is not your fight. This has nothing to do with you."
"On the contrary," Lucy narrowed her eyes, "I've seen the ghost… things… I've seen you. I won't let you hunt them alone. Swords don't work, arrows don't work - I won't let you kill yourself for no reason. Please my lady, go back to Arthur, he'll know what to do."
"Arthur." Guinevere's expression softened, but she looked warily at the forest ahead and made no move to go back home. "This is not Arthur's fight, he does not know what he faces. If my father will not face Brigid then I will."
"You love Arthur, don't you?" Lucy said quietly. "Do you really think that he would want you to risk your life for him?"
Guinevere gave a bitter laugh, her beautiful face suddenly seeming far older than her years. "I have fought for less, I have seen others die for less. I love Arthur, but he is a warrior as am I. We fight and we do not live in fear. Go home Lucy, this is not your fight."
"I.." Lucy made another attempt to plead her case, but faltered at Guinevere's expression. The Woad woman's dark eyes were wide, her expression almost curious. Turning slowly, she looked down at the arrow embedded in her back, just above her hipbone, with detached surprise. There had been no sign of the enemy, no twang of a bow string, and Lucy found herself unable to do anything but blink in disbelief at the scene before her.
"Run." Guinevere's voice was calm, but her face twisted as the pain registered. Shoving the girl in front of her forward, she choked out the order once again. "Get out of here Lucy!"
"I…" Panicking, Lucy stumbled a couple of steps before reaching out to the wounded girl. "Not without you, come on… we can…" Her voice was abruptly cut off as something slammed into her shoulder, sending her tumbling onto the woodland floor. She watched as a dark cloaked figure tied Guinevere's hands behind her as though far away, and when her own arms were pulled back viciously, the sudden blackness that sent her into oblivion was a blessed release from the pain.
A/N Sorry for not replying to any of my lovely reviewers - FFNet doesn't seem to be sending out any alerts at the moment, so I figured that you wouldn't get any replies before I've finished the whole story lol. They were very much appreciated however. Please accept an early update as an apology : )