Becoming of Age Again
By: Sheiado

Author's Note: I haven't done any chapters for this story for awhile. However, I am going to publish out random scenes that I had written out in a notebook. All are during different age periods for my character, Claire, and the Knights. Some are comical, some are romantic, and some are very serious scenes. Due to it being so long since I've last written, I figured that I can at least publish what I had to get my idea out. So, here we go.

Random Scene I: Age 14-16

After my laughter had calmed down, I took one look at his thunderous expression and ran for all that I was worth.

"Oh, no, you don't!" I heard him hiss behind me.

Despite my morning jogs in order to stay in shape, I knew that I wasn't going to be the victor by the end of this valiant attempt at a get away chase.

I felt his hand latch onto the back material of my tunic, his arm propelling me backwards. A startled yelp escaped my lips just as I went sailing blindly through the air, only to land unceremoniously onto the hard ground with a loud thud.

I gazed up at him from my sprawled position, not surprised as I saw him begin to take advantage of my rather dour situation. I felt him straddle my stomach just as his hands effectively grabbed at my wrists, pinning them on both sides of my head.

I found myself gazing up into a pair of very incensed brown eyes.

Thick wet droplets fell from his matted curly hair, sluicing down across the skin of my neck.

"Do that again and I'll kill you," he threatened, his voice dangerously low.

I gazed up at him with an upturned eyebrow, unperturbed by his open hostility. "You can try but I don't think you'll succeed... besides, you really need to learn not to take everything so seriously. Kind of takes the fun out of life, don't cha think?"

"As far as I'm concerned," he spat, his grip around my wrists tightening, "fun and life shouldn't be used in the same sentence here. There isn't anything 'fun' about this life."

Despite his restrictive grasp turning painful, I refrained from wincing and gazed at him with a hard stare, my amusement diminished.

"Can you, for once, stop being an asshole for, oh I don't know, five minutes? A little water never hurt anyone and you're acting like a three-year-old having a temper tantrum!"

"First you get me doused with water and then you insult me! The only one acting childish here is you. Shouldn't you have grown up to be a lady already?"

I knew that had I actually been a young, naive girl of fourteen I would have, in all likelihood, been upset by his "insulting" words. Instead, I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please, spare the horseshit and stop being so overly dramatic. And FYI, I may be many things or on my way to many things but a "lady"certainly isn't one of them... now get the hell off of me!"

"Well, with that mouth of yours streaming out that sort of language, I imagine you won't ever become one," He replied, then smiled slowly at me, intent flashing in his eyes. "In fact, I think you're well on your right way to becoming nothing more than a local tavern whore."

My eyes narrowed. "You are such a self-centered, bullying, jack ass! The day I become a tavern whore is the day you finally get your permanently stuck head out from your rear-end!"

His lips curled into a deliberate, humorless smirk, his grip around my wrists loosening as he leaned forward from his perch atop of me. His face hovered over mine as he whispered, "Considering it isn't there to begin with, I guess your day starts now... tell me, Claire, what price do you imagine for yourself, hmmm?"

My eyes narrowed into slits just as he moved his face into my neck, his nose nuzzling at my skin just as his lips scraped against the outer shell of my ear.

I was, by far, not anywhere near close to being an idiot. I knew "the game" he played. It was one that he likely had the moronic assumption that he could win being the "experienced one" out of the two of us.

A young "maid", as they liked to call these sad excuses of young women with absolutely no backbone whatsoever these days, would not know what was happening or would be too frightened to react. He wanted to instill fear and uncertainty in me.

I wanted to laugh outright at his antics.

Once again the asshole miscalculates and underestimates me... go figure. You'd think he would have learned his lesson by now.

'Word from the wise, Lancelot,' I wanted to say, 'Assumption is the Mother of all fuck-ups. And you just stepped into one...'

Even though I'll admit that my traitorous body was responding to him as it should... well, my hormones were raging ones and it had been years since I had last been with a man from my previous life... I still knew that I had a part to play.

I released out an involuntary shudder just as his tongue gently caressed the outside of my ear and I smiled inwardly, my mind working just right in-tune with my body.

I bit back a moan just as he moved his lips against the pulse at my neck and squirmed against him, creating a sweet enough friction to have him stirring against me.

I wanted to smile gleefully as I felt him press himself more fully against me.

I knew then that I was winning the battle. Whereas, in this particular moment, he was loosing.

The gloating bastard probably thought that he still had the upper-hand, I mused.

Wrong! The tables were soooo about to be turned on him...

"Lancelot," I breathed.

"Yes," he mumbled, his nose back to nuzzling my neck.

"I have a question," I murmured.

"Hmmm?"

Using all the strength I possessed, I shifted my weight upwards and turned, rolling both of us over until our positions were reversed.

I crossed my arms in triumph from where I sat straddled on top of him. "Is that a dagger in your pocket or are you just that excited to see me?" I asked with feigned innocence.

I then shot him my most taunting smirk, reveling in his shocked expression, just as I all but leapt off of him.

"You little-"

Both of our heads snapped as a throat was cleared.

A very bemused Tristan stood not far from us. Though his lips were set into a firm line, I could see the amusement dancing in his eyes.

Lancelot all but scrambled up from his position on the ground, his face flustered at obviously having been caught red-handed during one of his attempted "games" on me.

I had to refrain from laughing outright as he cleared his throat, gave a jerky motion of acknowledgement toward his fellow knight, albeit avoiding the other man's eyes, and walked away in a heavy but urgent stride.

After he was gone, I let loose my laughter, unable to hid it for even a moment longer. "Oh my God! Now THAT was funny!"

Tristan shook his head, a rare smile curving at his lips as he gave out a low chuckle. "Tis rare to catch Lancelot in a moment of embarrassment."

"Not for me it's not," I gloated, quite proud of myself. "Good thing it was you and not Bors or Gawain. He'd never live it down."

Tristan nodded. "Neither Bors nor Gawain know of your secret, girl. They would have intervened with anger."

"Yes," I replied, sarcasm dripping from my words, "Cause I'm just such an innocent of the world..."

Tristan regarded me with a serious frown, ever as always taking up the role of scolding older brother. "Lancelot knows not either. You must be careful as not to play with fire, Claire. It burns as you well know."

I raised any eyebrow at him. "I'm fourteen going on thirty, Tristan. I think I know my own mind and playing with fire is a game I've long since stopped playing."

"Hmmm. So you say."

I rolled my eyes at him. "So," I began, changing the subject. "Was there a point behind your visit today?"

"Yes," he replied, a slow grin pulling at his lips as he slung a long sack across his shoulders. "Your first archery lesson."

Next scene coming soon... (Another Claire and Lancelot Scene) Reviews Welcome!