Katemary77- XD s'ok, a few times as I've been writing, I've accidentally confused Vrena and Vejha as well.
Dw- There will be some romance in this chapter, more in the next, and I'm planning on a massload (like, extra large Kentucky friend chicken bucket size) of romance in chapter 19 :3
Lovebuggy- ;-; I'm sorry! I'm gonna try to make it up to you guys with these next two chapters. Hopefully there will be enough romance to please you!
Siopao- XD become an insomniac like me, and you won't ever miss an update. And…whoa. I didn't know you could review the same chapter twice…I thought they like…blocked your IEP address or what-not.
Tenshikoneko03- Killing of Tristan would kill the story XD…and I can tell you, Lancelot will live, and he'll be in someone's eternal debt.
Etraya- XD I'll try to please you guys this chapter!
Sarah- Vejha won't become the main character EVER, because…well…read this chapter. :P
Perberaidien- Lots more fluffiness to come, believe me. :3
SpectralLady:P I love writing my Tristan/Vrena scenes. These last few chapters I've been just…explaining things, so there wasn't much action, but trust me…Vrena and Tristan will hook up soon!
Ecellegreenleaf- The lyrics to the song I wrote myself, then babel-fished the hell out of them XD…
Lenao- I'm glad you agree with me on Dagonett's death, and yea…translated, the song gets kinda messed up because you should never rely on internet translators. Heh…I should have come to you and asked YOU to translate it XD…say, if you translate it the right way for me (the English lyrics are at the bottom), I'll add some extra fluff next chapter :D
Gondorian Archer- ok, ok XD Glad you like it!
Esther'nEra-guardians-ofChaos- Yea, I know :X
Op- I'm sorry you hate me now ;; -sniff-
Calliann- Wish granted :P I added in a good 'from Tristan's POV' part near the end.
Babak- That scene will be near the end of this chapter :P
ElvenStar5- Glad someone still loves me XD…
RainySunshine- I would never kill off Tristan O.O…that would make me a really bad authoress.
Liduina- Sorry again for killing him ;-;…there will be ubber fluff soon!
AHEAD-OF-TIME WARNING: Chapters 18 and 19 WILL without a doubt contain fluffness beyond normal amount of fluffness. Just wanted to give you a hit :P
To the people who hate my guts and want me dead after the chapter 16 incident: Please understand that as an authoress person, it is my duty to write a good story. I wouldn't have killed Dag off if it would not benefit the story somehow. And if I would have let him live…imagine how…undemonstrative and impassionate the story would be! Everyone would be happy and cheery in this chapter, and that would really ruin the whole concept of the movie. Please understand, if Dagonett would have miraculously lived…this story would be so dull, all the intelligent people who review would abandon me, and I would have had to kill myself (don't take that too seriously.) So again, I am sorry!
-
-
Chapter 17- Aftermath
-
-
It was late that night Vejha had woken up with a jolt, gasping for breath. She looked around- the fire was out, everyone was asleep, resting their minds and bodies. Except her. She felt like she had just run a mile, panting heavily,dreaming as if she was watching herself from a distance, paying no attention to her own thoughts.
'No. I just…had a bad dream. I just need more time to wake up, come to my senses. I'll be fine.' She tried to reassure herself.
But after a while, the sensation of being apart from her body grew stronger...and she heard a looming voice she wished away only a day ago, coming back to haunt her. She felt her mind spin and she became confused, the sound echoing through her mind…
Kill her, she is so close, she does not deserve life. None of them do. Kill them all.
She began to panic, realizing that her body was trembling in the cold, reaching for the dagger she kept hidden underneath her skirts.
'No! Not now, not ever! Leave me be!' she tried to convince herself, but now the voice was overpowering, scrambling her head in all directions…she could not think for herself anymore, as if she was dreaming again.
She faintly saw the glimmering dagger in the moonlight, and her sister's sleeping form beside her, pale from fever and cold. No, stop yourself! She is your only sister!
But as she aimed the dagger, she felt a sharp pain in her ribs, and instantly snapped back to her own body, waking up from what seemed like a nightmare; a sharp pain engulfing her mind as she recognized the red flowing from her dress where the arrow had pierced.
Across from the dead fire, she saw the man from earlier, the one who had brought Vrena back from the woods. His bow was still in the air, prepared. But Vejha could not feel anger inside her…instead, she felt joyful. Joyful, relieved, and proud. Indeed, she had been wrong. She could not overpower madness. All she had done was spared herself some time with her sister. And this man, one of the knights…his hair braided and uneven, tattoos on his cheek bones, war markings…eyes were unemotional and tired. 'Had he been up all night protecting my sister from me?'
No one else had woken up at the noiselessness of their movements, but the man stood up and put another arrow to his bow, and at first Vrena thought that he would release it onto her again…but he aimed it towards the forest, where Vejha turned to see a cloaked figure, followed by none other then the Merlin himself, and the girl from earlier who had been sitting near the fire.
"Lower your weapon, Knight of the Round Table." Merlin spoke in his old, creaky voice. She barely remembered him; she had heard him onlyonce, from when she and her sister were small children.
Turning her gaze back to the arrow stabbed into her ribs, she could feel no pain. That she had already wasted so much of, there was none left to feel. She felt like a child again, as the cloaked woman walked up to her and kneeled by her side. The woman lowered her hood, revealing a familiar face- a face she remembered she had screamed at for answers of her past not too long ago…Vejha remembered that she had tracked this woman down, and threatened her until she told her the truth about the massacre, all those fifteen years ago.
"N-Naeda…" She heard herself weep quietly, and the brown-haired, elderly woman put a finger to her lips and hugged her tight, trying hard not to touch the arrow, that seemed to be seeping life from her with even second that passed.
"Shh. We do not want to wake anyone, child." Naeda hushed her. Vejha weakly nodded, a smile forming on her lips, and she began to feel weak, shaking…the arrow was indeed seeping her life from her, pouring it out in the color red, staining her dress. The man who had shot her with the arrow lowered his bow silently, still glaring at the Merlin.
"Rest well, my child, for you will not wake." Spoke the aged Naeda, stroking her cheek. Vrena closed her eyes, obeying as she always did. Silently to herself, she whispered goodbye to her sister; to all those she had let fall to harm because of herself, whom had lost the battle of sanity, and now lay dying on the earth, as she should have earlier.
She could not see, but she felt a presence move from across her. Not that of the man who had saved Vrena from death, but the commander…what was his name? Arthur. She had no idea how she knew this- but as the light seemed to slip from her, she knew that was his name.
She could see white, as if everything was glowing, even though she knew it was deep into the night. She heard her voice creak as her lungs stopped, and something in her mind sedated her as her body ceased movement, weeping with the joy of freedom. She felt herself slip away, slowly…
-
-
Guinevere watched as Vejha's body went limp in Naeda's motherly arms. Arthur had woken from the noise, but no one else stirred from their slumber asthe womanlifted Vejha from the ground, and strode over towards the Merlin. Naeda was the first to disappear into the woods, Guinevere and the old man staying behind. The sun was about to rise over the snowy hills, and by afternoon today, she had no doubt they would make it to the wall…the mission would be completed, but the war not over.
"Tell Vrena that her sister has left. She will understand." Merlin spoke to Arthur, who was still studying the scene. But he finally nodded, andlet theMerlin leave.The leader of the Woadslooked towards her, but she stood still; letting her body language tell him that she was staying put. The old man smiled, turned, and left.
Looking at the motionless body of Dagonett, Guineverewalked towards him and kneeled, placing her two fingers to his neck. Finding no pulse, she looked up to Arthur and Tristan. The sun was now riding over the hills, illuminating everything with a golden glow. They did not need to ask to know that Dagonett was gone.
Arthur kneeled himself down next to Dagonett and held his hands together in the Christian prayer he was reciting. Tristan -whom she could not tell was truly dispassionate at this point or simply doing a good job to hide it- walked over to a nearby tree and leaned his back onto it, crossing his arms and bowing his head.
Her head turned as Lancelot sat up to see his friend praying next to the immobile body. A passive facial expression turned to one of fury and annoyance. Pushing himself from the ground, he trotted off into the woods without a word to any of them. Galahad was the next to wake; followed by Bors, who had no sooner started to yell and shout at all of them, eyes filled with pain and fury.
Time seemed to fly for Guinevere and soon everyone was awake. Arthur was still kneeling next to Dagonett's body, which was now covered with a blanket, and the small Lucan was crying into Fulcinia's arms.
Vrena had woken up with her aunt, and at once looked around for the missing Vejha. Still wrapped in his cloak, she walked over to Tristan, and the two walked towards the woods in the direction Lancelot had gone a while before. No doubt he was going to tell her what happened, and would not appease the truth for her.
Timedrifted by faster then ever as many of the serfs began to re-load everything to the wagons; one of them which carried Dagonett's body, now covered completely from view. Tristan and Vrena had returned, with Lancelot close behind, still obviously filled with anger that was by no means secretive. Vrena's eyes were red, but that could have just been from her fever the day before. Nevertheless, the woman mounted her white steed, which seemed to be the onlything happy at the time; swishing his tail and neighing in delight.
Packed and ready, the Caravanedged closer to Rome. But that would not end their journey.
-
-
After hours of endless riding, they at last came to the wall, and the gates creaked open in welcome.
Vrena looked to Tristan as they dismounted their horses,as a richly-clothed Roman man came forward- a happy smile on his face. Vrena saw nothing to be happy about. Right when she had begun to trust Vejha again, again she was torn away.
Tristan told her the entire truth of what had happened before she awoke. Vrenadid not know whether she should be furious or thankful that he had brought down her sister, whom had been over her body with a dagger. So she decided on both, since they seemed equally suitable for the occasion. But he had also told her that a lady named Naeda came with the Merlin, and took her sister into the woods. She did not know what to think of this. She had not seen or spoken to Naeda in so many years, it seemed believable that the whole time her mother's friend had been among the Woads.
Though she was angry with him, another side of her wished that she could hold him, tell him how she felt. She wished that he would let her cry in his arms, let all her sorrows pour from her. But she withdrew from that thought as the wealthy man began to speak.
"Ah! Good! Christ be praised! Against all the odds Satan could possi-" But the priestly man halted his words as Alecto advanced forward from one of the wagons.
"Alecto! Let me see you!" The man continued to ramble, but Alecto did not seem pleased to be near this man who kept speaking in holy babbles. Even Vrena found it annoying, and heaved a sigh as the man patted Alecto on the shoulder.
From where she was, Vrena watched as Lucan ran forward from his own wagon, and searched frantically for Dagonett's body. Finding it, he ran quickly towards it. Vrena's blood boiled as two Roman guards flung themselves in front of him, nearly knocking him over. She saw Galahaddraw his sword; without delay, she let out a "yah!" as she slapped one of Arvin's hind legs hard. She loved how smart her horse was.
With the command, Arvin ran forward towards the soldiers.
Seeing the giant horse galloping towards them, they released Lucan and moved quickly out of the way, only to have Arvin chase one of them throughout the crowd of people. Served him right. The rich pastoral man gave her a glare, and she quickly whistled for Arvin to return to her, which she did. The guard her trusty steedbeen chasing let out a breath of relief.
All eyes were on Lucan as he removed the large ring from one of Dagonett's fingers, keeping it for himself. This caused Vrena's heart to ache…the poor orphaned boy had lost the only fatherly figure he had left. Fulcinia ran over to him, Lucan grabbing hold of her hand.
"Great Knights. You are free now! Give me the papers. Come, come!" The high ranking man laughed nervously. If he was the one handing them their discharge papers, it meant that he was indeed a religious figure. Probably a bishop. Those men were always trouble.
"Your papers of safe conduct throughout the Roman Empire! Take it, Arthur." He continued, and Arthur stepped forward. But he did not take the papers, only glared blankly at the man.
"Bishop Germanius. Friend of my father." Arthur said through clenched teeth, holding his threatening gaze before breaking it and disappearing from sight, not taking the papers.
Lancelot walked over and irritably snatched all the rolls of parchmentfrom the finely embroidered box, and began handing them out to each knight.
"You are free. You can go!" ushered the Bishop, who seemed eager to get rid of them. Vrena felt her blood boil again; had she the chance, she would have released Arvin on him as well. But that was not a wise thing to do, lest she get arrested by the Roman church. Not a good thing.
Lancelot tried to hand Bors the paper, but the large man did not answer, simply glared at the parchment as if it was a snake ready to bite. Lancelot called his name twice, and Vrena knew that this must be hard for him; for all of them. Finally, Bors took two small scrolls Lancelot had handed him- one for himself, one for Dagonett.
"This doesn't make him a free man. He's already a free man!" Bors shouted at the Bishop and threw the papers to his feet, letting them soil in the dirt. "He's dead!"
And with that, he also stormed off. Vrena watched sadly as all of this happened. She observed with slight amusement as Tristan walked up to the Bishop and examined the box, then took it without word. He walked over to Bors and said something Vrena could not hear, and then Bors took the box from him. The knights all filed away from the crowd, heading towards a tavern. Vrena did not follow them. They needed time to themselves to wash away the pain of loss.
For the time being, she led Arvin to the stables. After brushing him for what seemed like hours, she walked outside to see that the sun was still high in the sky, shaded by the misty grey clouds that always seemed to cover this land. She started tofeel grouchy, tired from all the events that had placed themselves on her shoulders. True, she did not have to worry about Vejha any more; all she could do was mourn.
She heard loud noises coming from the town's tavern, where the six knights had gone after burying Dagonett's body. She did not go to that, either. Even though she had been friends with Dagonett, it would only make her feel like she was intruding on the others.
Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned to see Guinevere walk up to her.
"Am I intruding?" asked the woman. Vrena shook her head.
"No…I am just wandering about with my lonesome self." She said to Guinevere, her face still frowning and austere from theunbelievable day. But that face quickly disappeared as Guinevere told her why she had come to bother her.
"The Woads want to know if you will fire arrows along side them, when the time comes to battle the Saxons."
Vrena's jaw dropped at this. Her? Fight along side Woads to fight off Saxons? When? Where? Guinevere quickly answered her unspoken questions.
"The battle at the ice was not the last. They will come again. Arthur has already agreed that he will fight, though will not ask his men for any further requests. You have talent with it, you know. The bow." Guinevere tried to persuade her. Vrena was not all that sure of how to react…she was not sure if she could fight along side the people she had been forced to abandon all those years ago.
Before Guinevere could talk any more, however, Vrena's heart jumped into her throat as none other then Tristan strode towards them quickly, looking her strait in the eye.
"Arthur requests your company." He said seriously; though at this point, she did not feel like taking it that way.
"In a bar? Please tell me it is not the kind of company that just came to mymind." She glared. She felt rebellion rise up inside her, and knew that she was only refusing to move because it was Tristan telling her too.
"Unless you want it to be. Do I have to heave you over my shoulder again and force you in? I imagine how far the minds of the onlookers will wander at that." He said back, giving her no choice. She scowled, allowing herself to kick him in the leg as she passed him. She knew Guinevere was smirking inside, but would not show it.
She turned to Guinevere and asked if she wanted to follow, but the woman shook her head and walked off, allowing Tristan to lead her into the direction of the tavern.
They made it to the rusty door of the place, and Vrena grimaced.
She did not want to walk into a pit of drunken wild men, she was no harlot. She made a disgusted face, and drew back her hand that was reaching for the handle of the door. As always, Tristan came to her rescue and opened it, leading the way.
The smell of alcohol and other crude things flung into her senses as she followed him in, keeping close. It was indeed crowded, and looked as if all the men present in the town were here. The sun had not even retreated below the hills, and here they were getting drunk already! Some men honestly made her want to wipe out the species.
She came into view of the table where the other five knights were sitting, all lost in their own kind of reverie. Some were indeed drunk; which included Lancelot, who had a woman perched on his leg. But that seemed normal, so she let it slip her mind. Galahad's head was resting on his arm, and he seemed asleep, a half-drunken mug of brew in front of him. Bors was anything but sober, looking depressed and on his fifth mug, from the look at the five large empty containers on the table.
Gawain was calmly sipping his drink, along with Arthur. It seemed that Tristan had downed nothing as of yet, which she was happy for. Though deep in her subconscious, she giggled at the thought of a drunken Tristan.
She had been about to place herself onto one of the wooden stools as a man came from behind her, slapping her rear, causing her to jump in the air in alarm. Shock rapidly turned to anger, she spun around to see a ruffian who was indeed drunk, laughing along with a group of men from the other side of the crowded bar.
Vrena, not being the kind to think before she acts, threw her fist as fast and hard as she could towards the mans face, nearly knocking him onto the ground. Lucky for him, two men behind him caught him in time. She could hear Lancelot spit out his drink all over thefloor and Galahad lift up his head to see what had happened.
Vrena quickly scolded herself as the burly man got up quickly, shouting some obscene vulgarities that the authoress did not feel like spelling out, and lunged forward. Vrena was now powerless; she had made her mistake and would receive her consequence. She closed her eyes tightly, awaiting the pain.
But as the man was barely a foot away from her, a sword flashed in the dark candlelight of the bar, and he stopped in his tracks. Tristan had stepped in front of her, and was glaring harshly at the man.
The stranger, now knowing that he was dealing with a Knight of the Round Table, retreated quickly. Vrena shakily sat into her seat, silently thanking him for saving her from possibly death, yet again.
"Didn't your parents ever teach you not to start fights in pubs?" Lancelot slurred and took another large gulp of beer, the woman who was on his lap leaving to go sit with someone else. Vrena wasn't going to answer that question.
"I don't see why anyone would want to come in here and drink that...stuff." She said, eyeing Lancelot's large mug of…whatever it was. The man smirked and laughed, taking another large gulp.
"Tristan and you are morecomparable then I thought…" He said, but quickly got up from the table, nearly knocking his stool over. "If 'y don't mind me, I'd like to go find some pleasurable company. Tootles!"Lancelot chimed...but it was obvious the knight was trying to keep his mind away from anything that reminded him of Dagonett.
Gawain mumbled something about him getting his ornaments smashed, but Lancelot ignored him and walked towards a group of barmaids, easily entering their conversation.
The table was silent, way back in a corner of the tavern. Loud noise was coming from all sides, and she dare admit it would only keep getting louder as the night progressed.
"Is there a reason you wanted me here?" Vrena asked, turning to Arthur. He merely glancedat herbefore turning back to his drink.
"We were curious as to where you will be headed after this is all over with. If I recall, your town wants you dead." He said honestly, sipping from his mug. Indeed he was right…but dare she tell him that she would be joining him in the last fight to rid the Saxons from Rome and Briton? But wait…when did she decide this? Vrena heaved a sigh. 'Just now, I guess…'
"Maybe I'll stay here; maybe I'll head to the isles of Glastonbury, I've always wanted to impersonate a nun. Or I could live among the Woads, paint myself blue and run wild…I'm good at cheating, perhaps I could join the British Rogue…or the Roman Rogue…does the Roman church hire rogues?" Sheaswered sarcastically, knowing that she would do none of these things. So what, she was having a bad day.
"Welcome to our world." Galahad said, holding up his mug as if to make a toast, but then sat it back down onto the table with a clunk.
"I'd love to return home. If it's still there. Word is that Saxons have been roaming in Sarmatia too." Gawain said.
"Well…that seems to throw us all off the same waterfall, doesn't it." Vrena said plainly. She had placed her elbows on the soiled wooden table, tugging at her long black hair, which wasn't helping its already catastrophic state.
She didn't dare look up from the table. she would see Tristan, get nervous, and make up some excuse to leave…which wouldn't help the fact that she was in a bar, and could be slapped on the arse by a drunken man at any given second.
"Interesting use of figurative language." Tristan said, leaning back into his chair, arms crossed.
"Interesting way to make fun of me." Vrena spat, her face now hidden beneath the darkness of her hair.
"Never said I was deliberately taunting you." He retorted. From the way her head was laying cheek-down on the table, she could barely make out his figure...but she knew he was as relaxed and impassive as ever. Indeed, she knew she should not fight with him- though he cared about people he knew, he did have a sort of blood lust. Nevertheless, arguing with him seemed like their own way of bonding.
-
-
"Well, don't act too hard." Tristan heard her mutter quietly.
"Watch yourself." He warned her in the same tone, knowing that she had two choices now: to shut up, or argue back. From experience, he knew that she did not take his threats indecently.
He watched as she flung her head off the table, turning to face him. Quite a twist of fate they were sitting right next to each other, where they always seemed to be when arguing. His leg was no more then a few inches from hers, and knew he would be kicked at leasttwice tonight. Not that he didn't enjoy it.
"I'd like to see you lay a finger on me!" …She was indeed testing his temper. Was she just fooling with him now, or was she serious? Either way, he decided to take her word of warning mockingly. He lifted one arm from its crossed position in front of him and tapped his finger on her head, causing her eyes to widen from an emotion he could not distinguish.
From down the table, Galahad and Gawain both laughed, and Arthur merely smiled. Bors was still downing himself in alcohol, on his seventh mug now. True, Tristan was saddened by the death of a friend and good warrior, but death was not something one should linger on. If there was one thing in the world that could be truthfully predetermined, it was that everyone eventually dies.
He let these thoughts linger as he felt Vrena's leg making contact with his, a hard kick no doubt, but one that didn't hurt. He watched as her face began to turn red at their sudden eye contact, and then threw her head quickly down onto the table again, allowing her wave-like hair to cover it.
He had to admit, he had no clue what was going on in her head. If she was engrossed with him or not, that was a different story. It was quite obvious to him that she enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed hers- until one of them said something to offend the other, of course.
Such a time had been the night before, the first time he had heard her sing. He knew nothing about her singing before, though everyone else had already listened to her once. He wished he would have been there for it both times, because her voice was beautiful when she wasn't yelling. It was mesmerizing, how her voice in hymn could attract his attention. When Bors' lady Vanora sings, her voice does not captivate, it only speaks. But when this girl sang, it was like listening to a divinity of some sort.
"Hones'ly, the two 'o you fight like a married couple. One reason I'm tryin' to avoid that d'cision..." Bors spoke in a drunken voice for the first time that evening, but he did not stop intake to look or listen to their response.
Vrena didn't move, thought for a few seconds, he could have sworn she stopped breathing. Him, on the other hand…had to agree. For once in his life, his mind was not just on fighting or bloodshed, or matters of the state.
For once, his thoughts had been captured and imprisoned by a woman. A woman who seemed to have no interest in him besides someone to argue with.
As if on queue, Vrena stood up quickly from her stool and didn't even look in his direction as shepushed open the door, escaping the tavern.
Everyone at the table seemed surprised as he waved over a barmaid andhelped himselfa mug of the alcohol, not taking his eyes from Bors direction the whole time. He wasn't the only one now that needed to rid his mind of a few things.
-
-
Well…I liked this chapter a lot more, mainly because I could get back to my traditional Vrena/Tristan-y stuff :D
That made me happy. Did it make you happy? I mean…I had to add some humor to this chapter, or it would be way too depressing and all of you would hate my guts.
Not like you already do.
III Cari III
