A/N: Thank you Guest, Buckhunter, LadyWallace, GuestM, SnidgetHex, Guest, and pallysAramisRios for reviewing! I'm glad you liked the start of it. ^_^ To answer your question, Guest, I could imagine Lily being played by Jenna Coleman or Naomi Scott.

Chapter 2

The next time Lancelot woke, his head wasn't pounding as badly. He sat up slowly, just to be cautious. There was a dull ache still, but he wasn't overwhelmed with dizziness, so that was a marked improvement. He was alone in the hunting lean-to, which was made of just a slanted board propped up on two ends by thick poles. Moss hung over the edges and cushioned the ground beneath him.

He ventured out and roved his gaze around the surrounding woods. Several yards away, he spotted Lily standing next to a tree that had split down the center of its trunk, half its wood splayed outward in a bow of fractured splinters. The base was still connected, and Lancelot watched curiously as Lily ran her hands up over the split. To his amazement, the wood began to creak and graft its fibers together. With one hand beneath the broken bark and the other on the trunk, Lily somehow brought the sundered sections back together and held them still, until after several long moments the tree was whole once more.

She stepped back and turned around, gaze meeting Lancelot's.

"You have magic?" he said.

She quirked a considering look at him. "Is that so strange?"

He faltered. "No, it's just…where I come from, magic is not practiced openly, and not many have it." Nor had he ever seen magic do something like that.

"Our magic runs in the veins of my people," Lily explained. "Though, my gift is a bit more pronounced than most." She gestured to the healed tree as though that were evidence enough. "You haven't told me your name," she went on.

"My apologies. It's Lancelot. Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome. If you're ready, we can go."

Lancelot nodded eagerly. He was anxious to search for his friends.

Lily picked up a satchel and slung it over her shoulder, then started walking. "We'll take a path along the shore in case there are any more of your shipmates nearby."

Lancelot was grateful for that as he fell into step behind her.

The sea was calm and pewter grey, a dull contrast to the storm the night before. Jagged rocks rose in spires out amongst the tide and along sporadic cliff faces, and Lancelot realized he had been lucky not to have been dashed against them. To their left, dark pines and coniferous trees rose into a low hanging mist, but it was already beginning to thin and the sun peeked through, glinting off two snow-peaked mountains. One stood on the eastern side of the island in the direction they were walking; the other sat further back on the opposite end.

"You said your village is a few leagues?" Lancelot spoke up.

"Yes."

It wasn't yet noon from what he could tell by the sun's position. "What were you doing all the way out here?"

Lily canted a look at him over her shoulder before facing forward again. "I was foraging plants. Some only grow in certain spots on the island and it can take an entire day's trek to retrieve them. The leaves I used for your head injury was one of them."

Lancelot reached up to probe the welt on his forehead. The swelling seemed to have gone down some, though he couldn't be sure. He perked up as he realized Lily might be able to help with their quest.

"Do you know of a flower said to heal any ill, even magical ones? The dóreaastrum?"

"Many plants have healing properties," she replied.

"Yes, but this one is magical," he pressed. "That's why we sailed all the way out here. Our queen back home has been cursed into an eternal sleep and there's no other way to save her. But this flower might. Surely you know of it." He quickened his pace to draw up alongside her, hope squeezing his heart.

Lily flicked a sidelong look at him and didn't slow her stride. "We can ask the village elders about it."

Lancelot couldn't help the crushing wave of disappointment; if the flower was, in fact, real, surely it would have been well-known among the people of the island.

Lily suddenly pulled up short as two rugged looking men dressed in leathers and furs emerged from the tree line to their left. Broadswords hung from their belts along with coils of rope. Lancelot tensed in response to Lily's obvious guardedness, but he was weaponless, his sword and armor somewhere either on a battered ship or at the bottom of the sea.

"Look what we have here," one of the men said tauntingly, a hand reaching for the rope at his hip. "More spoils."

"You're a long way from your village," Lily warned. "Back off."

"We're not exactly close to yours, either," the man rejoined, both of them drawing their swords from their scabbards.

There was nothing Lancelot could do as the men strode forward and seized him, wrenching his arms behind his back to lash some rope around his wrists. Lily looked furious, but there wasn't anything she could do to stop them either. Another rope was looped over Lancelot's head and around his neck, and his captor gave it a harsh yank to get him moving. Lancelot gritted his teeth against the indignity of being dragged along like an animal.

Lily wasn't restrained, but the other man grabbed her arm and manhandled her along as they moved deeper into the island's forest until they came to a camp. Lancelot was stunned and relieved to see Percival and Leon sitting on the ground, back to back with their arms bound behind them. At least they were alive. They looked equally glad to see him, though their situation certainly wasn't ideal.

There were two more men at the camp, and one of them strode forward, a delighted gleam in his eye. He had a shaved head with a tattoo on the side and a scruffy face.

"Liliana, it's lovely to run into you."

She shrugged off her captor's arm and glowered at him. "You're on the wrong side of the island, Sklaar."

He spread his arms in a feigned gesture of innocence. "We were out hunting and came upon trespassers."

Lily pointed at Lancelot. "He is under my protection, and by extension his companions. Let them go and leave before my father hears of this."

This Sklaar smirked, unbothered. "So feisty," he said with a leer. "You'd make a fine wife."

"Let them go," she repeated firmly.

He ignored her. "You know a union between the two of us would benefit both our clans."

Lily merely glared back spitefully.

Sklaar let out a quiet snort. "Since you're so concerned for their well-being, you can accompany us." He then signaled his men, who started getting their other prisoners on their feet and shoved them closer to Lancelot.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

Percival gave a clipped nod. "Have you seen anyone else?"

Lancelot regretfully shook his head.

"I hope Arthur and the others have received a better reception," Leon muttered.

The island natives left their campsite as it was, their meager supplies strapped to their backs and their prisoners in tow. Lily was nudged into marching alongside the knights, hemmed in by these scoundrels who kept their swords drawn and ready to use.

"My father won't stand for this," Lily snapped.

"Come now, we're just enjoying a leisurely stroll through your territory," Sklaar replied. "This is hardly a kidnapping."

Not for one of them, maybe. Lancelot stumbled over a rut and received a tug on the rope around his neck for his trouble. He shot a scathing look at his captor.

They pressed on for a little while longer until they came to a stream. The men shoved the knights toward the shallow crossing while Sklaar turned to face Lily.

"And this is where we part amicably," he said with a cheeky smirk. "I look forward to treating with you again, Liliana."

With that, he hopped across the stream to the opposite bank. Lancelot cast a look back at Lily visibly fuming at Sklaar's back before he received another push to keep going. They quickly left the stream and Lily behind and continued to trudge through the underbrush. Having their arms tied behind their backs made it difficult to keep their balance over some of the uneven terrain, not that their captors cared. At least the one holding Lancelot's lead finally let the rope drop so he could use his arm to push some foliage aside; the frequent tugging of the line had been chafing his neck.

They hadn't been hiking very long but Lancelot's headache was returning with full force. He hoped wherever they were going wasn't much further. He was getting thirsty, and dehydration wasn't going to help his head either. He didn't bother asking what these ruffians wanted with them. No doubt Leon and Percival had tried when they'd first been captured.

One of the men suddenly pulled up short and held up a fist, posture stiff and head tilted slightly as he slowly roved his gaze around the surrounding woods. The other men went equally taut and still.

"Cath palug?" one of them whispered.

His companion didn't respond, still poised and listening. Lancelot didn't hear anything, but then there was a faint crinkle of leaves, and the man yelped as his legs were suddenly yanked out from under him. He landed on his back with a hard thud, then went careening away beneath the ferns as though something had dragged him off.

Lancelot and his friends reflexively shifted so they were standing back to back, eyes frantically scanning the area for what was attacking them. Another of their captors went down with a shout and disappeared into the foliage. Then some vines came dropping down from the tree tops and lashed around the remaining two. They barely had a chance to react before they were flipped upside down and left to dangle. Lancelot gaped in stupefaction at the sight, wondering if the plants were magical or carnivorous.

Lily came darting out from behind a tree toward them, knife in hand. She swiftly cut their bonds and then turned to head back the same direction. "Come on!" she yelled.

The knights didn't bother asking questions and bolted after her, Sklaar's muffled screams of rage sounding behind them. They ran for a short bit until Lily slowed down and stopped, looking behind them for signs of pursuit.

"That won't hold them for long," she said. "We need to get back across the stream."

"Who are they?" Lancelot asked, finally able to pull the rope off from around his neck. Lily's interactions with the men, particularly their leader, had been curious. They didn't seem like enemies, but neither were they friendly.

"Sklaar is the chieftain of another clan on the north side of the island," Lily answered. "I can't believe he came this far south. He had no right to take you prisoner like that."

"Thank you for coming after us," Lancelot said. "This is Percival and Leon. This is Lily."

Percival inclined his head in greeting. "Do you think they'll follow us back into your clan's territory?"

Lily pursed her mouth. "It's difficult to say, which is why we need to keep moving. Being that far out from my village made them bold. They wouldn't dare take aggressive action if our warriors were within range to respond."

"Hold on," Leon interjected. "What even happened back there? With the vines. It- it looked like magic."

"Yes," Lily replied simply. "You're welcome." She started off again, ignoring his horrified look.

"We're not in Camelot," Lancelot quietly reminded him. "Magic isn't taboo here."

Leon, to his credit, was quick to shake off his stupor. "My apologies," he said, falling into step behind Lily. "Thank you for helping us."

"I'm sorry you had the misfortune of meeting Sklaar. He is a brutish leader and his values do not align with the majority of the people who inhabit this land."

"Could our friends run into more men of his?" Percival asked in concern.

"I think it was just him and that small party. They probably were out hunting when they came upon you and saw an opportunity."

"What would they have done with us?" Leon asked.

"I'm not sure. Forced labor perhaps." She flicked a look over her shoulder at them. "Maybe sport."

That was an unpleasant thought. "Then we are even more in your debt for that rescue," Lancelot said.

Lily glanced back at him again. "It would have been a waste if I'd fished you out of the ocean for nothing."

Percival arched a brow at him, but Lily had picked up the pace and so Lancelot was spared from having to say anything to that. They reached the stream at a spot that was flowing a little more strongly than where they'd first crossed, but they were able to wade through it, the current rushing around their knees. Lancelot felt the chill arch up his spine and elicit a shiver.

Leon knelt to scoop a handful of water into his mouth, but Lily said sternly,

"Not here. We need to get away from the border."

Leon sighed but pushed himself to his feet and they continued onward. Lily unslung a strapped waterskin from over her shoulder and passed it to Leon, who drank greedily.

Lancelot's thirst was becoming more prominent as well, as was the pulsating in his skull. But they couldn't let themselves be captured again, especially when they had no means of defending themselves, outside of Lily's ability to apparently wield ivy like rope.

Leon passed the waterskin to Percival, who took a few small sips, then he held it out to Lancelot. But when Lancelot tried to take it, his fingers grasped air instead and he stumbled.

"Whoa," Percival said, halting abruptly and reaching out to grasp Lancelot's arm. "You all right?"

Lancelot lifted a hand and pressed a palm against his head, closing his eyes against the relentless pounding. "Sorry, just give me a minute."

He heard several footsteps draw closer.

"I'm sorry," Lily spoke up. "This morning I told you to take it easy but that mad dash could not have done your head any favors."

Lancelot hummed. "I just need a minute," he reiterated.

Lily took the waterskin from Percival and opened the flap of her satchel. She took out some small leaves and dropped them into the water, then covered the top and gave the skin a good shake.

"Here, this will help," she said, holding it out to Lancelot.

Now that he was standing still, he was able to grasp it, and he took a tentative sip, only to grimace at the slightly bitter taste.

"Honey makes it more palatable, but I'm afraid I don't have any of that right now," Lily said. She looked around the forest, mouth pinching with apparent indecision. "Can you keep going if we slow down a bit?"

Lancelot nodded. "We can't stop, I know."

Percival shifted closer, adjusting his grip on Lancelot's elbow with the clear intention of not letting go.

Lily nodded back. "Keep drinking that. There's a place not far with more water, and we'll be safe enough by then."

Lancelot took another sip and started forward, intent on not holding them back. Lily gave him one last measuring look before resuming leading the way.