Katemary77- Glad you guys think I did well with the fluff! Thank you :D
Neverletmedown- You might be a bigger fan then I am O.o
Calliann- It's ok, he won't die:P
elvenstar5- ten bucks says…I can't say, it would give away the entire ending :X
Sheiado- I plan on many more chapters, the story is not even close to being over yet :3…and I'm glad you liked the picture!
Sarah- XD that's a direct way to put it.
Dw- Her reminding him that she saved his arse might be in the next chapter :P
AngelsBlade- It's what happens when you have off school for two days thanks to snow.
Lenao- If I was a supernatural being…this story would be at 50 chapters, and I would also have a Lancelot/OC, Galahad/OC, and Jack Sparrow/OC fanfic running at the same time xD…
Siopao- Psh, yea. 3 and yea, I know the hands are in a…odd place XD…I hate drawing them, and that's the only way I could think to hide them while she was in that position. XP…
OP- Dude:D 3
Perberaidien- XD update on the way. Glad you liked it!
SpectralLady- Thanks a bunch, glad you enjoyed it :D
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Chapter 20- Drinking Games
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It didn't take them long to make it back to the abandoned town. It was a good thing Arthur had found another horse, or Lancelot would not be with them right now. Yes, maybe having Lancelot with them was not on her list of good, but she had only been to the wall twice and neither times had she bothered to learn her way around. Lancelot had agreed to help them locate the place Dagonett had usually gotten his supplies, which was fortunate enough that he remembered.
"The housing were they store herbs and medicines is further towards the outskirts, but take him into one of the rooms of the inn and try to stop the bleeding as much as you can, it will not take me long." Lancelot told her, and then rode off.
She had managed to get Tristan off the horse, which made her happy that he was basically prone to fainting, unlike her. He was still wide awake, and allowed her to drape his arm over her shoulder to support the weight he could not with his deep injury.
"If you die on me, I will kill you!" She mumbled aloud as she helped him up the winding staircase to the inn rooms. 'When the Bishop gets back, I will force him to make inns that have rooms on the ground' she mentally swore as they had some trouble climbing the stone staircase.
"If I die, I will be dead, so save your threats." He muttered back incoherently, the tone of his voice indicating that he was indeed feeling pain from his wound. Well, she could imagine that a long dagger right through the upper leg did hurt! If anything, she should have slapped him for not showing it.
It was strange, at the time she did not feel nervous at all…she felt more adrenalin and awareness of what needed to be done.
The wound was deep, and had probably even hit bone. This meant that it would have to be stitched up, something she did not enjoy doing. Now she began to feel nervous, because she knew that to get to the wound, Tristan would have to shed all the clothing that covered it. Not that she hadn't seen anything beyond that already, but her stomach still did flips thinking about it.
She was thankful that the wise scout had nearly read her mind as he stood on his good leg and pulled out a dagger from...somewhere, and cut a large hole in the breeches were the wound was. It was big enough now for her to not ask him to remove his attire, and she did not know whether to sigh with relief or regret.
After getting him onto the bed, keeping him in a sitting position with a pillow for him to lean on, she took one of the sheets and ripped them, using the smaller piece of it to wrap up the wound until Lancelot returned.
They sat in silence for a few seconds, her sitting on the side of the bed close to him. Apparently he knew what he wanted while she was lost in thought- he tugged her down close to him, so that their faces were close. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks again, and felt a surge of happiness. But then the question came to her…
"Tristan," She said quietly, grabbing his attention. They looked each other in the eyes, and she mustered all the courage she had in her. "I love you…" She spoke, breathing into his ear. "Is that how you feel?"
At first he did not answer, and seemed caught up in thought, seriousness enveloping him. The long strands of hair in his face were partially hiding his eyes from her view, so she could not read them.
"It depends on how you define love." He answered, holding her hand in his, hers soft from years of womanly work and his hard from years of fighting. She lost all train of thought as he brought his lips to her, surrendering to him again for the second time that day; she felt her heart nearly jump from her chest as they lunged themselves into the moment.
They were interrupted, however, as Lancelot had finally located the room.
"Bloody hell! I leave you for mere minutes and you're already at each other! I wish I could find that kind of commitment in one of the barmaids." He grumbled as Vrena shot up, seeing him walk in and sit down many of the essential items she would need- fresh cloth, alcohol (she was surprised he hadn't drank it while getting there), containers of ointments and healing herbs…and she was thankful that he had the brains to bring a small needle and some thread. Tristan eyed the needle with a disturbed look, but took the gaze away as she undid the bed-sheet cloth from his wound. The bleeding had only died down a bit, not enough.
She did the first thing she knew had to be done, and that was to clean out the wound. Vrena knew it would be terribly painful, but this was Tristan. He would live.
She undid the top to the alcohol and poured it out onto the wound- she regretted pouring too much at once, because the scout let out a cry of pain, one she had expected never to hear- but it disappeared as quickly as it came and he took a deep breath, trying to block out the burning sensation.
She took a clean cloth and dabbed away the wet liquid, and then began to tie the string to the needle. She saw Lancelot shiver and Tristan close his eyes, wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into.
"This might hurt." She warned. She wished she would not have to do this…but they had to close the wound somehow, or the bleeding would never stop.
"Oh, really?" Lancelot added sarcastically as Tristan just braced himself for the pain to come.
Throughout the rest of the ordeal, though, he remained quiet and collected, as he usually was. Grimacing a bit here or there…but he proved to be very skilled at dealing with pain as much as he was with dishing it out.
As she was almost done sewing up the wound, Arthur and the other knights had made it to the town and filed into the room. Vrena still needed time to work, though, and urged them to leave. She told them that they could see him when she was done, thus leaving them alone again. From outside she could hear chattering and moving- the caravan had returned.
She applied some of the herbal remedies that helped close wounds overtop of it, then took some of the long strands of cloth to wrap it all up. She was proud that she remembered how to do all these things from being in Tirth for so long- it was there she had watched all the women tend to knights and soldiers that came by now and then for help, and there were she had decided to learn herb lore and how to treat wounds.
After staying there with him for a while, Vrena heard her stomach growl in pain…she had not eaten since the day before. Tristan told her to go get something to eat, and when she refused, nearly booted her out of the room. She was sad to leave him by himself, but Arthur had been waiting outside the door.
"How is he?" The Roman commander asked her, trying to glance past the door.
"He will be fine, you may see him now." And without a word more, she walked quickly away from the area before she could turn back around.
All the townsfolk on the street seemed to be celebrating the removal of the Saxons from the wall, and she watched as all Bors' eleven bastard children jumped around him like wild animals. She could not suppress laughter as she headed over to Guinevere, who had changed out of her Woad-like outfit and was now back into a dress.
Her and Guinevere both obtained food and drink, and before Vrena knew it, the sun was setting. It was amazing how quickly it all seemed to fly by.
At the time, she wanted to feel happy- they had all made it out of the battle alive and in one piece; and from what she had heard from Guinevere, her and Arthur had gotten together. That was why Lancelot was in such a bad mood this morning. His bad temper must have taken a turn, though- at the moment, he was chasing a humored Galahad who had stolen a special glass container of brandy he had just bought…it must be important. She and Guinevere could not hold in laughter as they watched the two peruse a wild chase around the active town.
Everyone seemed to be indulged in festivities, having a good time…
After her and Guinevere had chatted for a while longer on womanly topics, Vrena decided that a bath was desirable, because both of them smelled like blood and death. Not knowing were she could cleanse herself, she let Guinevere lead the way to a small lodging. In the back, apparently, there was a place to bathe.
"Sit your clothes were they will not get wet…I would suggest there on the bench." Guinevere said, pointing towards it. They both removed their clothing, having no shame around other women. When Vrena first removed the emerald-colored tunic she wore at the battle, along with the tight undershirt she had borrowed, she saw that some of her bruises from so long ago were finally beginning to disappear.
When she and Guinevere had relaxed themselves into the large metallic tub filled with warm water, she put a hand to her stomach and realized that she had lost weight over the past month. Too much of it…it was almost to the point were she could see her rib cages. She would have to return to a normal diet, starting today.
She kept the hand on her stomach as Guinevere began washing both their hair with herbal mixtures that filled the air around them with a natural aroma of flowers, and she sniffed at the scent…but then her mind wandered back to her abdomen.
"You look worried about something," Guinevere pointed out, causing Vrena to snap up her head quickly. How much did she need to explain to get this woman to understand the reason she seemed deep in thought? In her mind Vrena counted the days since she had last had her cycles, and discovered that it would be around this time they returned…if she did not get them, that said enough right there.
"Ah, more happened between you and Tristan then I thought." Guinevere caught on quickly, damn her. Her friend was now smiling a devilish grin like one Lancelot would show when he was 'suggesting' things. She didn't know whether to run and hide from further inquiring, or answer truthfully.
Avoiding a discussion on such topics, she dunked her head into the water to wash away the herbs, and wrung it out until it was nearly dry. Guinevere did the same, and they began to dry off with the towels given to them by the owner of the lodging.
While they were not paying attention, a hand lingered in unnoticed and grabbed hold of Vrena's white undershirt, and only at the sudden movement of the color did Vrena fling her head around to hear the laughing voice of Galahad, and the hand retreat behind the curtain.
"Ay!" She yelled, but already she could hear the man's feet running successfully away, and knew that by now he was out of the inn entirely, running for dear life.
"Men…I'm surprised he didn't take anything else." Guinevere laughed, but Vrena did not find this funny!
Counting on her fingers, she only had two shirts left now. Her white baggy undershirt that revealed a bit too much chest and was wool, which made it quite thin- and the bloody green tunic that she would not put back on. Without her tight undershirt, it would be very cold outside, and she had yet to receive the clothing Guinevere had requested from the inn owner.
But no, no, no. Galahad would not get away with this, no matter what. She would hunt him down and leave his corpse to the crows. She would join Lancelot in the chase to get their items back.
Throwing on the large wrinkly white undershirt, she buttoned it up quickly, then threw on her underskirt and decided to make her own sarong. The baggy undershirt fell down low past her waist, being originally a man's shirt. The underskirt only went to her knees. That was all she needed.
Running out to the lobby, she demanded the inn keeper supply her with a thin white bed sheet and some thick, long rope. He gave her an odd look, but left and returned with the items she had wished for. Folding the large sheet in half, it wrapped twice around her waist. She tucked it in, then tied the rope tight around her waist to keep it there…she stuck the first layer of the sheet into the rope to secure it even more, which left some of the underskirt showing…but she didn't care, she just wanted to kill Galahad!
She thanked the inn keeper, and then ventured out into the town. She her eyes scanned around, but could not see any sign of Galahad or Lancelot.
Then she finally spotted them- as she had guessed, the one who had stolen her undershirt was Galahad, and Lancelot was still hunting him. They were running closer to her, and from the look on his face, the man seemed to be having the time of his life. Until he saw her, of course.
Galahad stopped in his tracked and mouthed what she believed was an 'shit!', then turned the other way, only to see Lancelot coming from that direction. He could not run to the left, or he would slam into a wall- so he darted off to the right, undergarments and liquor in hand.
"Galahad! You dirty bastard, give it back!" She yelled and began the pursuit.
"Over my rotting corpse!" He laughed from a distance, and Vrena growled in annoyance. She just wanted her undershirt back, for god's sake!
"Then so be it!"
It was not hard to keep up with him- she was light and loved running, but he was still fast. Lancelot caught up with her as they both ran after the sly and cunning Galahad.
"What he take from you?" Lancelot panted, out of breath. She could only imagine- he had been running half the night trying to get his drink back.
"Who cares, lets just get him!" She yelled, and the two of them ran faster. Heads turned as they kept running, some laughing at the playful knight who had stolen from them…it was indeed funny, but she would not laugh until she had her clothing back! She was sure the same went for Lancelot and his fancy drink.
She became annoyed as the crowd of people grew larger, and they lost sight of the culprit.
They were now in the town square, were men were at tables gambling, and torches lit the area. She knew Galahad was somewhere around here, hiding. Looking to the left, she saw the amused looks on Gawain, Bors, and Arthur's faces…she also saw that Tristan had been helped out of his room, and was sitting down in a chair near Gawain, who had been throwing knives at a board.
"Galahad, you're a dead man walking!" She yelled through gasps of breath, catching the attention of some onlookers. "When I find you, you will loose all that hair of yours, even in places you did not know it existed, I swear it!" And with that, both she and Lancelot spotted him- running out from behind a table of gambling men, darting and swerving through the masses.
"There!" Lancelot yelled, and with that, they ran after the stealing bastard…She would have loved to talk with Tristan, but her clothing came first.
They didn't get far when from their side, Galahad dart past them like an arrow, and Vrena quickly turned and watched in disbelief as he ran towards the other knights, a pleased grin on his face, laughing aloud.
"How the hell?" Lancelot yelled, turning back around. This was beginning to get frustrating.
Neither of them moved, and instead watched as Galahad was about to run past Tristan- the scout shot her a look, and then stuck out his good leg just as he ran by. Galahad tripped over it and fell flat on his face, the bottle of liquor surprisingly not shattering. Her undershirt was still tight in his hands though, as he lay defenseless on the ground. Now was her chance.
Her and Lancelot both ran forward, but she got there first and showed no mercy.
"I'll teach you to take my things!" She yelled and literally pounced on top of Galahad, causing him to groan as his body pressed against the ground; she reached for her undershirt, but he held it out so she could not reach it, laughing hysterically at her attempt to reclaim it.
She flung herself off of him, and quickly kicked him in the groin- which she had no trouble aiming for, because he was still on the ground. She laughed at the moans of pain that came from the crowd of on-looking men, even Tristan could not resist a sour face. Galahad yelped and crawled up into a ball on the ground.
Her undershirt had dropped to the ground, and she quickly picked it up while his guard was down, grinning triumphantly.
"Never, ever try to steal from me again, young Galahad, or my swears may very well be promises!" She warned as Lancelot came over, picking up his bottle of liquor from the ground, quickly popping off the top and taking large swigs of it.
Seeing that he was still grimacing in pain, she gave Galahad her hand and helped him off the ground. Never the less, he was still smiling from his accomplishment.
Not wanting to leave now that she was there, she pulled an old trick out of the book of clothes-changing. She put the undershirt over her head and removed her arms from the sleeves of the baggy white shirt, then managed to pull the small tight one down underneath it- an easy trick. She put her arms back into both, and then adjusted them from the outside. She felt better now.
She sat down on the bench next to Tristan and caught her breath. All of them were here now- the six knights, her, and Guinevere who had finally showed up. Gawain had brought over two more benches and Bors brought over a table, and they all sat around it, discussion overcoming them.
And that, was when Lancelot did something he never should have done. (A/N: Yea, the thing I've been rushing to get to! Sorry about that XD…)
"We should play a game of drinking, whoever can down the most before passing out wins!" Gawain suggested, but Lancelot suggested otherwise.
"No, no. I've done that once already today. Lets play a different game…but everyone needs to agree to play it, or there's no point." He said, looking to all of them, mainly her and Tristan. Both Vrena and the scout sent each other a look, and agreed. Maybe it would not be so bad. She would try hard not to drink too much, for she had no idea how well she could hold her liquor.
"Agreed then! Vanora, sweet, bring us as many shot glasses and jugs as you can carry on your serving dish!" Lancelot yelled to Bors' wife, who groaned in annoyance. But Vanora came back over with what he wished for- eight large glasses for alcohol, and five large containers of the drink, which she doubted they would use all of.
Then she grimaced. Or would they?
"This one is gonna be a better fighter then anyone south o' north of the wall one day…" Bors exclaimed as one of his bastards came to sit in his lap.
"That's because he's mine, haven't I told you that already?" Lancelot grinned. Vrena decided not to laugh with the others at this- she would have a child of her own soon if she did not show signs of getting her cycles during this moon.
"Alright, gents and ladies! The object of this game is to purposely get as many people drunk as humanly possible. We go in a circle, and everyone says something they know they have not done, but someone else has. For instance, if Bors were to say that he had not slept with Vanora in a month, I would take a drink, because I have. Simple as that. We keep going until no one can manage to put glasses to their lips." Lancelot explained, and Vanora whacked him hard on the head with her serving tray.
Everyone grabbed one of the large glasses and waited for more directions from Lancelot, who was rubbing his aching head already.
"Aye, fine. I'll go first, how about that?" He said, and opened the first heavy tank of beer. All of them poured the drink into their large mugs and awaited him to begin. Finally, he did, and they all listened intently to his statement.
"I have never had my clothing stolen away from under my nose." He grinned slyly to her, and Vrena glared as she raised her mug to her lips, taking a sip of the drink that burner her throat as soon as she swallowed. She noticed that Gawain also took a sip.
It was now Galahad's turn, and now she was beginning to regret joining in on this game. But she could not quit now, she would miss all the fun!
"I've never been trampled on by a pony" He said with a serious look on his face, and everyone laughed as Lancelot rolled his eyes and took a drink. It was Gawain's turn.
"I've never been threatened to have all my hair chopped off." …Both Galahad and Lancelot took a drink. It was now Bors' turn.
"I've never slept with someone else's lover." He said, glancing to Lancelot, who took a large swig of alcohol. They all laughed as Gawain looked around nervously before also taking a drink.
"May I ask who it was?" Arthur said through laughter and Gawain just allowed an innocent look to cross his face.
"Three years ago on that mission we were sent on near Gaul. You know who." He answered, and all the knights, even Tristan seemed, amused. Speaking of Tristan, it was his turn.
He was silent for a few second, and then finally thought if something.
"I've never consumed more then three glasses of this in one sitting." Vrena had to laugh as everyone excluding him, Guinevere, and herself, took a long guzzle from their mugs. And then she froze- it was her turn.
She did not know much about these people, so it would be hard to come up with something good. She thought hard for a few long seconds, and finally managed to muster something from the back of her mind…she remembered something Lancelot had said a while ago that Guinevere had passed onto her as they had been talking earlier that day.
"I've never slept with two people of the opposite sex at once." She said, smirking at the now wide-eyed Lancelot.
"Who told you?" He asked, glaring at her as he took a drink.
"Oh, no one." Vrena smiled as her and Guinevere slapped their hands together triumphantly. It was now her turn.
"I've never been beaten up by a woman," Guinevere grinned, and laughed when every man lifted his glass and drank, even Tristan. It was Arthur's turn.
"I've never disguised myself as a barmaid to sneak beer from a tavern."
"Damn it…" Lancelot murmured and again dove for his glass. Vrena noticed that they now had a crowd of spectators- people interested in watching the eight of them drink their way through the night. Even some of the gamblers had been distracted by the game…it was Lancelot's turn again.
"I've never locked myself in a closet." He said. Vrena groaned- she had wandered through the church in Tirth once, and accidentally locked herself into a room that held all the offerings made to Agustius…they thought she was a crook, but in the end she got out of it. She, along with Gawain, Arthur, and Galahad all took drinks.
"I've never gotten sick from drinking." Galahad said, and Lancelot sent him a death glare.
"I have a feeling I'm not about to be spared..."
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About a half hour later (and nearly fifty drinks for Lancelot), the circle was still up and going, but now a bigger crowd surrounded them. Vrena was surprised when not many relationship-related questions arose. But now many things were crossed off the list, it would turn up sooner or later.
Tristan had only sipped from his glass once during that time, and Vrena about a dozen.
"I've never been hit on the ass by a door," Galahad said, and Lancelot grimaced, but took a quick swig.
"I thought that would have been forgotten by now…"
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Fifteen minutes (and seventy drinks later for Lancelot), most of the knights were anything but sober, and even Vrena was beginning to feel woozy. The only one who was not under influence now was Tristan, who was still sitting calmly in his seat, his glass only half empty.
"I've never shed my clothes and attempted to fly off the top of the wall." Gawain said, and Lancelot laughed in disbelief.
"I was sleepwalking! I didn't do it on purpose."
"If it makes you feel any better," Vrena said, "I launched myself from a tree before." Everyone laughed at her confession.
"Why did you do that?" Asked a drunken Lancelot, slamming his mug onto the table.
"When I was little, one of my friends dared me three gold pieces to land on a high-ranking Bishop who was coming to collect money from Tirth…unfortunately, I missed and landed into a fire one of the house-wives had just assembled." She explained, receiving drunken looks of awe from everyone at the table.
"Didn't it hurt?" Gawain asked her curiously.
"Oh yes, I nearly burned to death." She replied a bit too calmly, "I survived though. I think that was when the witch rumors began spreading."
They all looked to Bors for the next testimonial.
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Another fifteen minutes later, Vrena watched as Lancelot nearly fell off his bench from pure intoxication. That was when the statement finally sprang up, the one she had dreaded.
"It's been two days, and I haven't slept with anyone!" Lancelot chimed in a drunken tone.
Vrena and Tristan both held the other's gaze for the first time that night, and then picked up their glasses uniformly, taking gulps from their mugs. Arthur and Guinevere also sent each other looks as they too downed more from their own.
To make it worse, Galahad was also drunk and curious.
"The person I slept with isn't at this table!" He laughed, and Vrena shot Tristan another a look of amused guilt as they again picked up their drinks, Vrena finishing off what was left of her third mug and Tristan finally reaching the bottom of his first.
Vrena scowled. It was now the couples being dogged on. Which was bad- Guinevere was drunk, and knew things that the others didn't.
"I haven't removed someone else's clothing besides my own in a week." Gawain joined in. Tristan and Vrena both refilled their mugs and took another gulp of the alcohol, and so did Guinevere and Arthur. It wasn't good that in this game, everyone seemed to know when you were lying. They had no escape.
Lucky for her, Bors moved back onto different topics, and they avoided any more questions of such…until they made it back to Lancelot.
Vrena nearly choked on air at what he said.
"I haven't gone far enough with a lady to get her with child."
Everyone had their eyes on Vrena, whose face had turned as red as the flames lighting up. She and Tristan looked to each other, not knowing if he should drink to it or not. Guinevere also glanced at Vrena, but then turned away as to not attract any more attention towards the poor girl, who was now a nervous wreck.
No, we will keep it a secret…Vrena shook her head a bit so only Tristan would notice, and he turned around to face the table's occupants again- not reaching for his glass, and the turn moved on to Galahad.
That, they would have to keep secret until she could prove otherwise.
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Well…that was interesting.
I think I've made the future plot obvious by now :P
Of course, some things are still going to happen while the knights are at the wall. –Wink wink-
Oh yea, not to be to blunt about it, but…you know…should it be a boy or girl? X
And I will now take requests for scenes! Got one you would like me to write? Feel free to tell me.
III Cari III
