Wow! It's been a long time since I've even been on this site. I randomly watched Casino Royale last week, and the second I saw Mads Mikkelsen my brain shot into Tristan mode. I decided to reminisce a bit and re-read some of my old fanfics for King Arthur, and this was the first one I decided to read. And while doing so...I was compelled to fix a lot of things. Heh.

So it's been nearly two years. I'm going to revise every single chapter, re-write stupid parts, and fix those old FFNET glitches that would string words together. I hated them.

I hope that those who still read King Arthur fanfiction (I wonder how many? Hmm...) find that these changes make the story more worth-while. Enjoy!

Much love, Cari.


Chapter one- Severance


Arvin wasn't going to last much longer.

The cold snapped against Vrena and her once beautiful, now bloody and dirt-covered steed. The snow was beginning to fall harder than ever, and even though she knew it was just her mind playing tricks on her, she could still hear the hooting and yelling from the maddened town folk.

Her back was screaming at her to stop, to just lie down and give up. It felt like hot fire burning every inch of her body, searing from head to toe, but she refused to stop riding. She was much more afraid of what was far behind than what would be lying ahead.

From past knowledge, she knew that she was close to the wall, where one would cross into Roman territory…just a bit further and they would make it, hopefully alive.

Someone there would take care of her. Or would they do as her sister had done?

Stand there and watch her die like an imbecile?

Vrena sneered at the thought, but then regretted it when more pain flashed through her. Just the slightest movement made her ache horribly-- but then hell, she had managed to stay on a horse for this long.

She could feel it now. More then she could feel the blood in her once-smooth black hair, or her bruised face, or various other places with slashes and cuts. She wouldn't stay alive much longer.

Despite the horrifying sting in her body and the fact that moving the slightest would worsen her wounds, she did the only thing she thought reasonable.

When all else fails, and you're about to die, rely on your horse. The damn beasts are smarter than you think.

Resisting urges to impulsively cry out in pain, Vrena shifted herself so her stomach was on the saddle, and got into the most suitable position possible –if it was possible- and twisted her wrist around the reign to secure herself.

It was going to be a long ride. But she would be dead by the time they got there anyway, it didn't matter anymore.

Nothing mattered anymore.

She no longer felt the burning of her body, only the burning in her heart…everything had been burned. Her life was almost over.

The searing throb of hatred was the last thing she felt before drifting off into unconsciousness.


Wow…did I write that?

Short little chapter, I know, but It doesn't really count as a prologue…so I had no choice but to make it a chapter.

Anyway, not all the chapters will be this short! Be happy.

Anyway…yay? Nay? Burn?...-whips out lighter-