King Arthur does not belong to me.
At First Light
Chapter I
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A figure made its way into the stables unnoticed, managing to blend innocuously against the noisy crowd. The darkness hid most of the stable, and the celebration outside served as a cloak against any unwanted attention. Quietly it took one of the saddles that hung nearby, and carefully slung it onto a waiting horse. The horse made a startled noise, so the figure ran a soothing hand against the horse's neck, managing to calm it.
"Where are you going?"
The figure stilled and lifted its head, letting what small light fall upon its face. Limpid eyes of a young girl looked up to look at the source of the voice. "I'm going back to the village."
"It not yet safe to go beyond the Wall. As much as we've defeated the Saxons, I cannot guarantee that there are no longer any of them around." Lancelot reached the girl, who had already mounted the brown mare.
"My brother needs me-- and I don't wish to burden you further with my presence."
"This is not a insipid band of thieves that you are used to evade." Lancelot stated flatly. "If these men find you, they will no doubt play with you first before they grant you your horrible death."
The girl's eyes wavered from his steady gaze, her hands tightening around the reins. "I have to go."
"Lancelot!" Bors called from the door. "Arthur's looking for ya, where tha hell have you been?"
"Just a moment, Bors--" Lancelot said over his shoulder. "Erin!" Her brown mare shot forward, and out into the celebrating throng.
Erin barely got a mile before Lancelot's horse came galloping after her. She was a good rider, and hers a fast steed, but Erin was no match against a determined Knight. Amidst her kicking and struggling, Lancelot hoisted her up to his horse easily, as if reminding her of her weakness.
Erin hung her head in bitter defeat. She hid beneath her hood as much as she could, thankful for the shadows that hid her tears…
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Erin closed her eyes for a moment, blotting out the images that came unbidden from her mind. Everything was still so clear, and time did nothing to alter her memory.
"Hey…" A gay, merry face came into focus, framed by a wild mass of sandy curls that were tied haphazardly into a bun. Sounds of merriment permeated her reverie, along with raised voices, breaking glasses of the town's famous tavern. "If you stare any longer at that man, he's gonna come over and propose to ya."
The man in question dribbled his last drink down to his chest and promptly passed out. "I was not staring at him, Aly."
"Then why don't ya drink what you' been holdin, and be that pleasant company tha you are. Tis not good to think too much."
Erin thought of this for a moment, and then grinned, raising her mug to toast her friend.
"To us Ladies." Alyssun winked, and curtsied, grabbing the edge of her skirt and raising it in a mock bow.
OLD A/N:
We're going to have more character development for Lancelot, and I wanted to present him in a different light. In what way? well, you just have to read on guys, ;).
It's a short chapter, but I'll make up for it in the succeeding chaps.
Atwood
