Do you know what I've discovered? I think that most of you, naming no names coughElvenstar5cough need a course of anger management. Seriously. Oh well, I almost cried writing the first version of her death, but it was just romantic crap, oh she's dead, ah well, romantic crap, so I changed it for the more gory version (insert evil laugh here).

I honestly never knew so many people like Leofwen. She was never exactly my favourite character, but she's nicer in the last chapter. She's more human. And, by the way, the next chapter is based mainly on an idea that Camreyn gave me. If you like it, thank her!

Veronica-Good thing I didn't kill Gawain off in the last chapter, otherwise you'd be really angry! I'm glad you're addicted to my story-don't break the habit (lol)

Chiefhow-Of course vegetarians rock! I really seem to be surprising people with how I killed Leofwen. Thanks for the review!

ChildlikeEmpress-Really? I didn't feel like she was very real to me, but I'm glad you like her. I was considering making her and Tristan get together but it didn't seem right. If he died, I couldn't see Leofwen grieving, and if she died, I couldn't see Tristan grieving. I wasn't sure how it would work. Also, there's more to Leofwen than meets the eye...

ElvenStar5-It must have taken you ages to type the word 'evil' 45 times! (Also, I fear you will soon be very very very angry...

Camreyn-Really long review! You're just like me-you like to analyse every part of the chapter. You make me realise things I didn't know before about this fic. I think you know more about it than me! I loved the internal struggle the most of all. That part took only like two minutes to write because it all flowed really naturally. I thought that was Leofwen's character down perfectly. P.S Yeah, my teachers are very weird. Yours aren't? P.P.S Some of your other points will be answered in later chapters or now. I'm just in a rush. Thanks for reviewing so faithfully. CS

Katie Moore-Yep, grossing out people makes me very happy...joke!

MonDieu666-Thanks! Your fanfic's brilliant as well, I'm loving it!

lindalee4-'My fingers are speechless'...great line. Thanks for giving me a much needed laugh. I haven't depressed you too much, have I? I always wanted to kill someone off, as I like writing death, deceit and love scenes; they're the most emotional. I also was going to pair everyone off, but then I was like that is so unrealistic! And also Leofwen was so opposed to Lancelot and Aibhilín I thought it was unlikely she'd do the same.

I have a confession to make...I cried when writing this, OK? This is the chapter I agonised over the most. Please review, otherwise it was all for nothing... (sob). I also wrote a lot of it whilst watching Pearl Harbour, the scene in the middle where everything's on fire and all the people are either alive and sad or dead and covered in blood whilst floating the water. Also, the scene where Danny dies. That is so sad. That would have been another way for Leofwen to die-protecting a friend and then dying in their arms. Think of that while you read this. (I never got the end of Pearl Harbour-does Rafe just raise Danny's kid himself? I wouldn't!)

Blessed Be

ChiaraStorm

XI: War II

Somewhere like a scene from a memory
There's a picture worth a thousand words
Eluding stares from faces before me...

Ealusaid fought hard and well, revelling in the moment where you penetrated your enemy with your sword. The moment where all of the blood was spilled. The moment when you knew you'd won. She focused every energy in her body onto that.

Then she saw Leofwen. She was covered in blood and maimed viciously, but she was still beautiful. Her wide blue eyes were still the eyes of her sister. Her eyes were full of fear, but they were still Leofwen's eyes. She would not let her die alone.

"Goddess" she whispered as she fought. "If this be your will, I will die too, if it will bring Leofwen back"

She waited. A Saxon came at her, spear up and ready.

She did not move.

If this be your will...

He threw the spear

I will die too...

And missed.

If it will bring Leofwen back.

Ealusaid gasped. She could not bring Leofwen back. Nothing could. She had passed beyond her power and her sight. She was gone. Ealusaid threw the first dagger and killed the Saxon instantly. She then paused, and realised something.

She was so scared. There was blood everywhere and most of it her sister's. Ealusaid could hear nothing but the blood rushing into her ears and her heart pounding painfully. She stabbed and thrust the first dagger into Saxons. She never used the third dagger. It was not worth using on these scum.

Ealusaid stared at the body of her fallen sister. She heard a black hole sucking void of a scream and realised it was coming from her own throat. Her sister was lying murdered on a field of battle, and yet somehow she did not yet feel remorse. All she could feel was white-hot anger that consumed her insides and gave her power. Her scream was a growl of suppressed rage bubbling over her cup of control. She swung her sword with renewed vigour, almost as though she believed that when she killed enough Saxons, Leofwen would come back. She held onto this hope and killed viciously. When she had a spare moment in which she wouldn't be killed, she ran.

She ran as though she had wings on her feet. She ran over to protect Leofwen's body from all other forms of attack. The huge Saxon was leaving her corpse, now that she was dead, and returning to the fight. Ealusaid threw the death dagger at him. It collided with a sickening squelch in his shoulder blade. He turned around with a bellow of rage and charged at Ealusaid. She threw the third dagger. It was time for it to be used. This one landed in his heart, along with an arrow and a spear. She neatly skipped aside of his falling body and turned around. Aibhilín had her bow aloft and Guinevere's spear arm was still outstretched. She smiled faintly at them. At least they could avenge Leofwen's death together. Aibhilín and Guinevere understood the smile and returned to their positions of killing. Ealusaid

Guinevere ignored everything that she heard. She ignored Leofwen's death cry and she ignored Ealusaid's scream. She concentrated only on the terrible joy of killing and made her sword sing as she thrust and plunged it into Saxons. It was something she had to do. She could not yet think about Leofwen. Her sister. The one she had got on with better than everyone else.

It was she and Leofwen that went adventuring together. It was the two of them that always practiced their sword skills together. They were the ones who preferred swords to bows or daggers. They fought each other in play and fought beside each other in battle. She had a lifetime of memories that had now come to their premature conclusion.

Guinevere swung the sword again. A chant echoed in her mind, and she used it as a rhythm for her sword.

Leofwen's dead, Leofwen's dead, Leofwen's dead, Leofwen's dead...

She forced herself to stop when all the Saxon's surrounding her were dead. She twisted around and saw the man next to Leofwen's body.

Her murderer.

She did not think, she only she only acted. She pulled up a spear from the ground and threw it as hard as she could. Into that throw, she poured all of her rage, her sorrow her remorse. She poured in everything she was feeling right now.

It hit him in the place where his heart should have been. He sank to the floor and Ealusaid turned, giving her a slight smile. Guinevere returned it, but it wasn't real. Inside her heart was breaking, breaking, breaking into tiny shards of glass that would kill her from the inside.

She sank to her knees and stuck her sword into the ground, using it as a prop. She felt as though a spear had been stuck in her. She couldn't breathe or speak or move. All she did was think about the fact that her sister, her friend, her comrade and her ally was dead. She was never coming back.

She looked up just in time to see Arthur behead the Saxon general. She dug her sword into a few more Saxon's with renewed vigour, but they were fleeing the battlefield. She was glad. She wasn't in a killing Saxon's kind of mood anymore.

Aibhilín stared numbly at Leofwen's body. Already, the blood was flowing slower, and her skin was turning grey. Her face was contorted in pain and her hand had loosed hold of her sword.

Aibhilín closed her eyes and turned away, walking over to Lancelot. She couldn't bear to be near her dead friend now. Maybe if she turned away, Leofwen would be alive. It was only be a dream. But her thoughts decided to betray her.

Leofwen isn't coming back. She's dead. She died an agonising, excruciatingly painful death. And do you know what? You could have prevented this...you saw it. You knew what was going to happen. Why didn't you stop it? It's your fault Leofwen's dead. It's all your fault.

"It's not" she whispered so quietly it was little more than a hiss. But the words brought with them a strange relief. The tight band of pain and guilt loosened around her chest, and she found it easier to breathe.

She knelt by Lancelot and placed a hand on his head. "You utterly stupid man" she told him. "I told you not to come back" She leant down and kissed him softly. "Thank you"

He placed one hand over hers. He stared up at her. "You're bleeding"

"I'll be fine" she assured him firmly. She took his hand and helped to pull him into a sitting position.

"Where's Leofwen? She saved me" Lancelot asked.

Aibhilín looked away. Anywhere but at Leofwen's body. "She fell" she told him.

Lancelot drew Aibhilín unto his arms, and a single solitary tear dripped down Aibhilín's cheek. "She always said she'd want to die in battle" she managed to say. "She must never have realised about who she was leaving behind"

Guinevere stood by the knights. She wasn't ready to face Leofwen's body either, because that would have meant that it was true; that she was never coming back. She counted faces. Bors, Gawain, Galahad, Arthur..."Where's Tristan?" she asked.

"He's dead" Bors said, with tears shining in his craggy face. Guinevere looked to the left of her and Tristan's body was there, scarred with battle and blood.

Arthur stood a way away, staring at the sky.

"It was my life to be taken" he whispered. It was so quiet, yet it held so many emotions-grief, anger, regret. "Not this! Never this!"

Guinevere watched him. She did not know who he was talking to, but right now she needed someone to blame for Leofwen's death. She tilted her own head to the sky. "If you were going to kill Leofwen, you might as well have killed me, for I do not know how to live without my sister" she whispered angrily. "Why did she have to die? She had so many people who will miss her" Her voice grew stronger and angrier. "She was not meant to die! It can't have been her time yet" She hung her head and placed her hand over her face, fingertips resting on her forehead. "I don't understand" She needed to understand why. It all made no sense. If she kept thinking about it, trying to find meaning it would consume her.

She stared up at the knights. "Why did you all come back?" she asked them as a means of distraction and as ending her fatal curiosity. "You were and are free men"

"It's not a case of being free men" Gawain told her. "This was a case of doing what's right"

Guinevere smiled faintly. "Thank you"

"Come on. I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to"

Bors turned to Lancelot, who had come over with Aibhilín. "See you're alive then"

"Only by luck or fate"

Fate. Destiny. The wheel of life that cannot be stopped. The chances in your life that are dictated by something higher than we are ever meant to understand. This was what had killed Leofwen and Tristan. This was what Aibhilín had believed her entire life. Now, it didn't feel like truth.

"You told me that we make our own destinies" she whispered to Guinevere. "Why did Leofwen die?"

"I'll tell you when I know" Guinevere smiled faintly.

Ealusaid made her own way over. She went straight to her sisters. Her skin was stained with blood-Leofwen's. "Is she-?" Guinevere asked, holding on to a futile piece of hope.

Ealusaid nodded. "Our sister is dead"

"Sister?" That captured Galahad's attention.

"She was our half-sister" Aibhilín explained in a blank tone which was her way of trying not to break down and sob. She was now covered in blood, tattoos and tears.

"And she didn't know until this morning, because that bastard didn't tell us" Guinevere was shivering with anger. "He saw this. He knew"

"He wouldn't have let her die if he knew" Ealusaid protested. (The knights were understanding none of this)

"If he believed it was her destiny, he would have" Aibhilín said, understanding dawning on her. "If he believed that it was meant to be he wouldn't have"

"Umm-sorry to interrupt, but we're dying of curiosity here" Gawain interjected. "Who's this he you keep mentioning?"

"Dauídh-Merlin if you want. He's our father and he has the gift of foresight" Ealusaid explained without thinking how careless that was.

"Like Aibhilín?"

"He's much better than me" Aibhilín said. "And he must have let her die because the bastard thought it was her destiny" She couldn't help it. She let out a strangled sob. "And now she's dead. I hope he's happy"

Ealusaid looked away. Even though it was Dauídh who had derived her of her natural status, he was still her father and she still respected him. She noticed the Woads leave the field as silently as always. She, Guinevere and Aibhilín did not go with them. They stood together with the knights.

"Where do we go from here?" Ealusaid asked.

"I don't know"

"I do" Aibhilín's voice was stronger. "We bury Leofwen and then we mourn"

"And then what?"

"We live on and Leofwen does not" Aibhilín's voice was shaking, but she managed to say it. Her words were cold and barren, yet there was sense in them.

Ealusaid put and arm each around her two sisters. "Come on. Let us leave this place of bloodshed"

"Not without her body" Aibhilín ducked out of the hug and went over to Leofwen. She and Guinevere picked her up and gently slung her over one of the surviving horses. "Sleep well, my sister" she said quietly. She walked over to Lancelot and stood beside him, knowing that he was in need of comfort as much as she was. They walked away, hearts heavy and weary.

The battle was won, but it was a flat and empty victory.

Please review. I'm depressed...Pearl Harbour and writing emotionally empty death scenes don't really make for happiness. Make me feel loved!

Blessed Be

ChiaraStorm