Only three reviews? I'm insulted! Oh well...

Camreyn-You and lindalee4 are now my favourite reviewers for many reasons; lindalee4 because she always offers me sweets (greedy Chiara!), and you because not only have you reviewed every chapter, but you also give me long and inspiring reviews. Skeletons in Leofwen's closet? This has sparked an idea for a whole other story...keep you posted on that. Bug me enough about Tristan, and I may let him live...

Katie Moore-Does he die? Read on and find out...

lindalee4-Thank you! I like to be your first twice-reviewed fanfiction...Please don't go to a CSFFA group-ChiaraStorm FanFiction Anonymous group! Please keep reviewing as well! Have you seen my above comments about you?

You know I was complaining a lot about Biology and formaldehyde? Well yesterday I had another treat...watching my teacher dissect a pig's organs! I nearly threw up when she hacked a ring of cartilage off and wore it on her finger, second only to when she held the trachea up and it was covered in hanging bits of meat and fatty strings. I left the room and almost threw up in the toilet. I have been a vegetarian for almost eight years now but if I wasn't before, I would be now. Please, avert my nauseous feelings and review!

Blessed Be

ChiaraStorm

X: War I

Metropolis watches and thoughtfully smiles
She's taken you to your home

It can only take place
When the struggle between our children has ended

Ealusaid sat on the wall. Her head was spinning and she was hoping that the air would restore her natural calm. She let the breeze flow over her skin and sink into her brain, letting it cool and soothe her. She had to get into a state of mind where she was ready to kill Saxons-not hard, well, not usually. But today was different. The air tasted of electricity and hostility, and she was tense. She wanted to let go, forget everything except the terrible joy of battle. Today, it was hard to do that. It was so tough. There was more than her sister's lives at stake here.

Somehow she found herself standing up. She was balanced right over the parapet and watched the Saxons intently.

Leofwen crept up behind her. "They're very ugly, aren't they?" Their braided beards reminded her a little of Tristan, but they were ugly, with contempt curling about their features. One of them in particular made her heart freeze. She hid it well, but it scared her more than she'd ever felt before. She did not have Aibhilín's gift of Imbas, but she had a feeling of dread. She forced herself to listen to Ealusaid's answer.

"No worse than anyone else" Ealusaid shrugged.

"A bit like Griogair"

Ealusaid laughed. Griogair was a boy in the tribes, who, at some point had become infatuated with Leofwen. He was short and boorish, even then, and Leofwen had tried to be kind and still try to make him understand. He was apparently slow-witted too, and Leofwen had resorted to being very blunt, which was extremely forthright in everyone else's language. He had carved his name next to her name into a tree near their encampment, and Leofwen had spent years trying to file it off. When they moved camp, Leofwen had sighed.

"Thank the Goddess I don't have to keep worrying about someone asking if I love that stupid hog of a boy Griogair"

Upon hearing that, Griogair had soon lost his infatuation with her.

Ealusaid tried to steer the conversation back into sensible waters.

"We need to leave the wall, before they see"

"Why oh why then did we even bother coming back?" Leofwen grumbled.

"So that the lovers can love" Ealusaid teased. They walked down to the ground.

"How did your own talk go with Galahad?" Leofwen asked in a singsong voice.

"Nothing I'm going to tell you about"

"I'm the elder sister, and I command you to tell"

"Even when we weren't sisters, I wouldn't have told you"

"How long have you known that we were sisters?" Leofwen asked her after a pause.

"Nearly all my life" Ealusaid admitted.

"It must have been hard to keep the secret"

"It was" Ealusaid said softly.

They reached the ground and found Lancelot, Aibhilín, Arthur and Guinevere waiting for them. Arthur turned to them.

"Thank you" he said. "And your people"

Ealusaid nodded courteously. "It is what we should do"

"And we'll enjoy it" Leofwen put in. Everyone smiled a little, but they were fake. They were all scared; it was just that everyone had had a decade and a half (give or take) of hiding it.

Lancelot protectively pulled Aibhilín closer to him, and Aibhilín didn't stop him. She wanted time to stop, to preserve this moment forever. She wasn't sure that she could cope with this aching feeling of loss and regret. She had to stop. She was a Woad, and Woads fought. She could not fight feeling like this. She had to disassociate herself from all that was around her.

Guinevere reached for her hand, and Aibhilín put her slim paw in hers. She walked away, and only looked back once. She had seen the world in Lancelot's eyes once. Now, she saw it again. She drowned in it.

"We need to go" Ealusaid nudged her gently. Aibhilín walked, hating herself for taking each step.

They made it out past the wall, and then Leofwen turned on her. "What was that? I've never seen you so unexcited about a battle"

"You know why" Ealusaid told her.

"So? This is our opportunity to kill a few Saxons"

"Just because you've got the emotional capacity of a spider doesn't meant that we all have" Guinevere snarled at her; Leofwen stuck out her tongue at her.

"Besides, if she gets killed Lancelot might just kill himself in a fit of passion"

"You really do have the emotional capacity of a spider don't you?"

Aibhilín ignored them, but she was secretly pleased. This was teasing, not the nagging that she'd been getting ever since they'd met the knights. "Are you supporting my love now?"

She saw a shadow of a glance pass between them. "Well-" Leofwen began.

"Umm-"

"Ahh-"

Aibhilín slapped Leofwen lightly on the arm. "Tell all, pray"

Ealusaid caught Aibhilín and stopped her walking. "I just want you to know I had no part in this"

"In what?" Aibhilín asked, her suspicions aroused.

Guinevere sighed. "Before we left, Dauídh told me that if anything...odd happened to you-"

"Something brilliant like falling in love?" Aibhilín said sarcastically.

"-we had to make sure that you remembered your culture and not become a knight's whore" She threw up her hands as if to ward off her sister's anger. "His words not mine"

"What!" Aibhilín cried. "On whose orders?"

"Dauídh" Guinevere put an arm around her sister. "We are so sorry. We decided last night that we had to tell you"

"Sorry!" Aibhilín exclaimed "You tried to sabotage the best thing that ever happened to me and you're sorry!"

"Our whole lives we have been following Dauídh's orders. You too. Do you change that now?"

"I follow them, though not blindly" Aibhilín countered. "I can think for myself"

"Dauídh could have you banished from the tribe for this" Guinevere reminded her. "You would never be able to return to your own people again"

"If you are an example of my people then I wish that I could leave them"

A warning bell was set off inside Ealusaid. She could feel Aibhilín's sincerity-it rang out in every syllable of her words. It was final, complete.

It was a verdict of banishment.

Leofwen tried to turn her to them so that they could look her in the eye, but Aibhilín wriggled out of her grasp, and fled through the forest

Back in the camp, they all separated. Aibhilín applied her blue war paint alone, in a clearing away from the main tribe. So far she had not talked to anyone, especially not Dauídh. She heard shuffling footsteps from behind her. She knew who it was.

"Why?" she asked.

"I was scared for you" he told her honestly. "I did not want you to change the course of your own destiny"

"Maybe it was meant to be changed" she said in a tone of equal calm.

Dauídh shook his head. "I have seen your future Aibhilín. It does not lie with him"

"Then that destiny is wrong"

He caught her by her shoulders. "Listen to me, daughter! He is fated to die. You cannot change that"

She was shaking and she couldn't stop. "That does not mean I'm not going to try"

Dauídh sighed, and left her, not saying anything to her or looking back. Aibhilín tried to apply her paint, but her hand was shaking badly. She put down the beaker and paced about just for something to do. Finally, she sat down, buried her head in her hands and sobbed.

Guinevere made her way out of the undergrowth. She put her arms around Aibhilín and rocked her slightly.

"Why does everyone want to hurt me?" her sister wept. Guinevere shushed her, but Aibhilín broke out of her embrace and threw a stone at a tree trunk as a way to release her anger. It pinged off and disappeared into the undergrowth.

Guinevere stood up and stood by her sister in silence.

"Why does no one opposed you and Arthur?" Aibhilín asked, not unkindly, but merely curiously.

Guinevere shrugged. "Dauídh must have seen that it is my destiny" She winced on the tactlessness of her words, but then again, Woads were not renowned for diplomacy.

"Why is being with Lancelot not my destiny?" Aibhilín, a warrior who never cried was again on the verge of tears. "It feels so...right"

Guinevere made her sister look at her. "I believe that you can make your own destiny. If you belong with Lancelot, then you will be with him"

Aibhilín smiled at Guinevere. "Thank you" She hugged her sister. She was glad that she had the old Guinevere back, not the one who opposed Aibhilín's judgement. When Guinevere pulled away, she picked up the paint. "I'll finish you"

Aibhilín stood up straight. She was a warrior. Love had no place on a blood-strewn battlefield.

Ealusaid watched and waited as the last procession of knights left the fort. They were all sombre and solemn, with no-one talking or joking.

Bors looked around. "I can't take this" he muttered (even though Ealusaid could not see or hear this) He pulled his horse out of the line and galloped up the hill towards his commander. Ealusaid gasped. She had not been expecting that.

There was a rustle of leaves, and Leofwen threw herself down next to her sister. "I've been keeping guard for ages. What happened?"

"Bors went to fight with Arthur"

"Is he crazy?" Leofwen said. "He's got freedom. Vanora. And eleven bastards!"

"More are going"

Leofwen squinted. "Oh no. Is Lancelot going?"

Ealusaid nodded. Leofwen sighed, then stiffened as a new though came to her. "If Aibhilín sees that, she's going to die"

"She's not the only one"

Both girls left to prepare for bloodshed, unable to stare any longer at the funeral procession.

The four sisters stood in front of the line of Woads. They were wearing leather outfits that allowed for maximum mobility, with quivers and sword slung across their backs. Every inch of their bodies were flecked with blue war paint in swirling and intricate symbols of power, bloodlust and survival.

Leofwen seemed to be leading everyone. She stood there, hands around her bow, ready but her body was relaxed. Ealusaid was her usual calm self, her eyes seemingly fixated on the enemy and Arthur, but she was keeping a sisterly eye on Aibhilín too. Guinevere was tense, stiffened with the bloodlust that swirled in her veins. Aibhilín was the only one who seemed nervous.

Aibhilín looked up, and studied the horizon. Ealusaid and Leofwen braced themselves for an outburst, but she merely dropped her gaze and the grip on her bow tightened. Leofwen could feel the increased tension in the air, and also Aibhilín's need. She looked over at Ealusaid. "If he dies, she dies" she mouthed to Ealusaid.

A sudden movement made them all turn. Arthur was standing, ready as the Saxon's charged.

"Archers, fire!" Leofwen yelled. The first rank of archers fired, while the second loaded. The first ducked and the second fired, giving the first a chance to reload. The result was a steady hail of arrows.

The arrows helped, but did not stop the onslaught of Saxons.

"Bows away" Leofwen commanded. She pulled out her sword, and held it lovingly, almost praying for a nice amount of Saxons to kill. She suddenly swung it aloft-that was the symbol.

They all charged, Aibhilín included. She let the bloodlust rise and take her whole. She was ready to kill now.

Leofwen was everywhere, plunging her sword into every Saxon she saw. Some tried to fight her, but they were slaughtered instantly. Her blade hummed through the air, slicing and stabbing as if it had a life as its own.

Ealusaid was everywhere and nowhere, completely invisible until your back was unprotected. Then she was there, making sure that you stayed alive even at risk to her.

Guinevere and Aibhilín fought back to back, taking no prisoners. Just having her oldest sister there made her feel confident. Powerful. It stopped her thinking and just made her forget everything.

She looked up, and gasped. She froze and received a gash across her chest as a result. She didn't feel the pain. She was so scared that she felt no pain, only a cold, still centre in the middle of her chest.

Lancelot was fighting for his life. He knew it, and Aibhilín knew it. She plunged a dirk into a particularly gorilla-like Saxon and tried to run over the battlefield to him, but another Saxon cuffed her from behind, and she fell back. Soon she was fighting for her life as well.

Leofwen thrust her dagger, in and out in a rhythmical dance. She looked up, and saw Aibhilín. She was winning her fight, which was remarkable. She cast a glance at Lancelot, and her eyes locked with Leofwen's. Her question was evident in her eyes.

A horde of voices raged inside Leofwen's head.

Help Aibhilín

Help Lancelot

Save yourself

Aibhilín doesn't need help

But Lancelot does.

Can't we help them both?

Or neither?

She's my sister. What I do to him I do to her.

Saving him saves Aibhilín.

Leofwen hated herself for most of them, but she knew that the last voice was speaking the truth. She pulled out the dagger of the second dance.

She threw the deceitful dagger across the field.

It caught him in the throat. He choked, and fell back, dead. Lancelot fell back too, exhausted but breathing easily.

Thank you Aibhilín's eyes spoke.

Leofwen realised that she was breaking an elementary rule of battle; she was standing still. She twisted around and was confronted by a reeking odour of sweat and grease. A huge Saxon was standing there, sword raised. Leofwen tried to pull out her own, not realising that she had thrown it away. She stared up at him helplessly.

Aibhilín knocked her assailant to the ground. She looked up, and breathed a sigh of relief that Lancelot was OK. She fought her way over to him, but a cry made her turn around suddenly. She caught sight of Leofwen, and her sister's fear was unmaskable. Leofwen's eyes were wide and scared and she was completely vacant, as if she could not decide whether to fight or flee.

She took too long to decide.

The Saxon drew his blade almost lazily across her throat. Leofwen put her hands to her throat, but she could not mask the blood that spurted over the field. Aibhilín felt bile rise in her throat as her sister's organs and blood sprayed forth. Aibhilín had watched death for years. In every battle there had been death. Just not like this. She watched horrified as her sister toppled forwards. The Saxon raised his sword and slashed it again across the back of her neck. Aibhilín could not stifle a gasp as the bon splintered loudly and more of her sister's blood coloured the battlefield. Leofwen's life force was ebbing away. She spluttered up blood and struggled to stay on her feet. Finally, Leofwen fell to the floor. Her spirit had left her body before she hit the ground.

I'm so horrible to my characters...

Blessed Be

ChiaraStorm