Disclaimer: see Chapter 1.

A/N: In case anyone doesn't know, the Woads are called such because of the blue paint they wear—called woad. I just wanted to clear that up because Dayn makes mention of it. Also, please note, there is a scene in this chapter that is suggestive of rape-most of the action is not really overt, but if you're squeamish about reading that sort of thing, you might want to consider skimming over it.

Oh, and by the way, this chapter is a bit harder to follow then usual-just keep in mind that the scenes in this are happening simultaneously...I think you'll figure it out. If not, let me know.

I don't usually dedicate chapters, but this chapter goes out to everyone who has expressed more interest in Niamh, because a sizeable portion of this chapter concerns her.

Chapter 13: The Fall of Darkness

Niamh hadn't been able to stop trembling since they'd arrived, terrified that at any moment, the Roman captain would come for her. She stayed close to Tristan and used Caderyn as a shield, hoping that his muscular form would hide her from seeking eyes.

Tugging nervously on a strand of her hair, she followed behind Tristan and the others as they trekked up the hill to lay Cei to rest.

It was a melancholy air that wrapped itself around the remaining knights as they prepared to bury one of their own, a task that had become all too familiar as the years had passed. Except for Dagonet, who was being tended to by a healer back at the garrison, all of the knights were in attendance, plus Jols, Orainne, and Niamh.

Dayn watched with a cold heart as Arthur pounded Cei's sword into the ground by the burial mound, his feelings carefully locked away behind expressionless eyes. Orainne stood at his side, her fingers locked in his icy hands.

No one spoke as Bors stepped forward with a flagon of ale and held it out to Arthur. Without a word, Arthur accepted the proffered flagon from Bors' outstretched hands. He gazed around at each of the knights, looking at them intently as he held the flagon up.

"Today, we salute our fallen comrade, and with this, we honor him." Arthur took a swallow of the ale and then with a deep sigh, poured a bit on the ground. He passed the flagon on to Lancelot, who accepted it silently. Arthur looked once more at the mound from which Cei's sword rested, nodding respectfully before he turned and walked back down the hill.

Lancelot took a long swig of the ale before pouring some over the earth as a final offering to Cei. Passing the flagon on to Gawain, he followed Arthur, his heart heavy as he fingered the amulet that he still wore around his neck.

The gesture was repeated by each of the knights as they said a final goodbye to Cei, and the mood was one of poignant sorrow, as they remembered all of the knights who had gone before them, of friends lost, never to return. Most of the knights followed in Arthur and Lancelot's wake, until only Caderyn, Tristan, and Dayn remained. Niamh watched, her heart aching for the loss that she could see in their eyes.

Dayn was the last to take the flagon, and he took a swig before he poured the remaining ale on the burial mound. He let the empty flagon drop from his fingers, and he felt a distant sense of satisfaction when it shattered against the ground. He stared down at the pieces, silently vowing to avenge Cei's death.

"I'm sorry for your friend, Dayn," Orainne said softly, leaning close to him. Putting his arm around her, he pulled her closer, leaning down to whisper close to her ear.

"Don't be. They're going to pay."

"What are you planning?" she murmured, looking up at him with questioning eyes. Dayn was about to respond when he caught sight of Niamh's eyes on him, gazing at him with a combination of worry and suspicion.

"I can't tell you here. Later. I need you to paint me tonight," he said, thinking of the intricate blue designs that would soon cover his exposed skin.

"I'll get the woad and return to you soon," she said with a nod. With a kiss to his cheek, she slipped away from him and slowly melted back into the shadows and mist of the forest. Niamh watched them before leaning into Tristan, whose eyes were searching the skies for his hawk.

"Tristan, I think you should watch Dayn. I have a terrible feeling that he's planning something dangerous."

Considering that he had plans of his own, Tristan wasn't too inclined to interfere with Dayn's business. But he couldn't tell Niamh that. Whatever Dayn has planned, it's sure to be a distraction that I can use to my advantage.

"Worry not for Dayn," he said softly. He looked down once more, bidding one last farewell to Cei before he turned to walk back to the garrison. Niamh followed after him, afraid of being left behind and having to return to the garrison alone. Tristan heard her behind him right before her hand slipped into his. He tensed for a moment before he slowly relaxed, having started to adapt to Niamh's displays of affection.

As they neared the garrison, Niamh began to tremble, her hand becoming icy in Tristan's grip. His hand tightened around hers as he tried to comfort her in the only way he really knew. She tried to give him a smile, but she knew it wasn't very convincing.

She wasn't sure what was going to happen now that they were back. She had taken to sleeping at Tristan's side, safe and secure in the knowledge that he was there beside her. But now that they were back, she felt as though she were drifting in a sea of doubt. What if Tristan wants me to leave? What will I do then? Fear gnawed at her, as she wondered what she was supposed to do, and unsure of how to ask.

As though he sensed her thoughts, Tristan began to speak, his eyes never leaving the path before them. "I told Jols to have a cot brought to my room. It's yours for as long as you wish."

"You did that for me?" she asked, touched by his concern for her. He'd never really shown express concern for her, or anyone for that matter, and she felt a warmth in her heart when she thought of how he was showing that concern for her.

Tristan didn't respond, settling for a simple nod instead. And Niamh expected nothing more. She smiled, her nervousness fading in light of the knowledge that Tristan cared about her. Even if he only cared a little, it was enough for her.


Dusk was falling and inside the tavern, most of the knights were well on the way to being completely inebriated. Caderyn held Hummingbird on his lap as he taught her the rules to a new game he'd learned from a passing traveler. Gawain was well into a lewd song about a dancing girl, and Galahad was laughing drunkenly at the words, thoroughly enjoying the song despite how badly Gawain sang it.Niamh winced, thinking that the flagon of ale on the table was looking more and more appetizing with every line Gawain sang. Bors had Gilly on his lap, and Gilly was begging him rather unsuccessfully for a sword of his own. Lancelot's attention, as usual, was on the tavern wench who sat in his lap. Aldric was speaking quietly with a few Greeks who were traveling through Britain, and Niamh wondered if Aldric harbored a secret desire to travel to distant lands. Tristan seemed oblivious to the goings-on around him, his thoughts turned inward, and Niamh wondered what so held his attention. Glancing around, she saw no sign of Dayn or Orainne, for neither one of them had been seen since leaving the hill.

Finally, she could take no more of Gawain's off-key singing, and she stood, picking up a small cup of wine.

"I'm going to see if Dagonet wants company," she told Tristan. "I'll be back shortly."

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked, his discerning gaze coolly examining her face for signs of worry.

"No, I won't be long," she said, kissing him on the cheek before leaving. There had been no trace of the Roman captain, and she was feeling quite confident that he would bother her no more. He must fear Tristan, now, she thought comfortingly.

Reaching Dagonet's room, she slowly opened the door, peeking inside. Dagonet was lying in bed, propped up with pillows and sleeping comfortably. Not wanting to disturb him, she tiptoed inside and set the wine on the table by his bedside. Hearing a slight rustling in the corner, she turned to see Lucan asleep on a pallet in the corner. She smiled and quietly walked over, picking up a blanket from the foot of Dagonet's bed. She gently draped it over the sleeping boy, tucking it around his shoulders and smoothing his hair back from his forehead. She gazed at the two of them one last time before she left, still smiling.

She carefully closed the door behind her, and she had just turned to go back to the tavern when she was viciously grabbed from behind and a hand came up to cover her mouth.


After watching Niamh leave, Tristan stood and sought out Vanora who was busy refilling cups and flagons with ale or wine.

"Vanora." She turned with an exasperated look, thinking he was just one more drunken customer wanting another drink.

"Oh, Tristan, it's you," she said with surprise, for it was very infrequently that Tristan approached her. "What is it? Do you need another drink?"

"No. I have to leave for a time. When Niamh returns from seeing Dagonet, tell her to remain here until I come back.

"And where will you be?"

"Never mind that. I shouldn't be long."

"Very well then," Vanora said. Her gaze suddenly shot past him, and her eyes widened in alarm. "NUMBER NINE, you get down off that table right now!" she yelled across the room. She charged past Tristan, hurrying to reach the five-year-old who was standing on a table with his hand out to help Number Ten up as well. Tristan watched the chaos for a moment more before he slipped outside and headed for the stables. Stable boys knew everything.

When he reached the stables, the stable boys were rough-housing in the hay. Catching sight of him, the oldest boy shoved the others off and came to his feet, desperately trying to straighten his tunic into some semblance of order.

"Nice try, boy, but the hay in your hair ruins the effect," Tristan said in a rare burst of mirth. The boy blushed a bright shade of read as the younger boys giggled, and he ran his hand through his hair in an unsuccessful attempt at shaking the hay out of it.

"Can I help you with something, sir?"

"I need information."

"Information, sir?"

"Yes. I need to know if you saw a man taking a woman from the garrison about a week ago."

"Well, sir," the boy began with a sheepish smile, "an awful lot of men come through here with women. Sir."

"This woman wasn't going by choice. It would have been a Roman man, a captain."

"I saw him," one of the younger boys said, stepping forward with the confidence of youth. "He looked real mean, Dathan," he said, addressing the oldest boy. "He took that pretty lady, and she looked real scared."

"And you said nothing?" Tristan asked the boy, his hard gaze boring into him.

"He's a Roman," the boy said with a helpless shrug. Tristan could not fault the child, for none of the Britons were capable of standing up against the Romans, especially not a small child. "I'm sorry," the boy said, looking dejectedly at the floor.

"Think no more on it," Tristan replied. "I'm going to take care of the matter myself."

"Be careful, sir—he's got mean eyes, that one," the younger one said quickly. Tristan turned his own gaze on the boy, letting him see the chill of death come into his eyes. The boy's eyes widened and he stepped back in fear and awe.

"Is—is that all, sir?" the oldest boy—Dathan—stammered hesitantly. Tristan nodded and turned to leave, because he had what he'd come for: proof that the man he'd suspected was the one who had harmed Niamh.

Not wanting to scare Niamh by leaving her alone for too long, he headed back to the tavern. Caderyn had best be sober enough to look after Niamh while I handle our dear Captain. Otherwise, we're going to have words. But when he entered the tavern, Niamh was nowhere to be seen. Grabbing Vanora by the arm as she passed by, he spun her around and grasped her by the shoulders.

"Where's Niamh?"

"Oh honestly, Tristan, must you always be so dire?" she asked impatiently, shrugging out of his grasp. "She hasn't returned, yet. Now, if that's all, I've got drinks to refill," she said, moving past him. A dark look came into Tristan's eyes as he watched her walk away. Niamh should have returned by now. She wouldn't have tarried. So the question remained—where was Niamh?


"Did you really think you could escape me, bitch?" The familiar voice sent icy chills down her spine, and her heart pounded. She struggled in his grip, but she knew well enough that her strength was no match for the captain's. He dragged her backwards, pulling her into a darkened alley between the barracks and the Wall, and fear filled Niamh as she desperately sought to escape him.

Swinging her around, he backhanded her and knocked her to the ground. Gods, please no, she prayed as the world spun in dizzy circles around her. The Roman straddled her, grabbing at the hem of her dress as his malicious gaze promised pain. Niamh closed her eyes, sobbing, as she waited for the blows he was sure to rain down on her. But nothing happened. She opened her eyes to see the captain frozen, a knife at his throat. Niamh looked past him to see who held the knife, and there in the shadows, a small figure stood.

"Run, Niamh," Orainne said, holding the dagger firmly against the captain's throat. With a choked sob, Niamh scrambled out from under him, pushing her dress down with shaking hands. The captain remained still, fully aware that the knife at his throat was held in steady hands. "Go now, Niamh," Orainne murmured, her eyes never wavering from the Roman.

"But…I can't leave you here, Orainne," Niamh cried, tears rolling down her face, her body trembling.

"You don't need to worry for me," she replied, her voice sounding oddly like Dayn's—cold and emotionless.

"But, what if he catches you?" Niamh asked fearfully.

"He won't. Now go!" With a last worried look, Niamh turned and ran. As soon as she was out of sight, Orainne slid the knife ever so carefully along the captain's throat, seeing the sweat trickle down his face as he agonized over whether she was going to kill him. Bringing the knife up to his face, she allowed the blade to slice his cheek before she backed away, melting once more into the shadows.

The captain stood, his legs trembling, turning from left to right as he vainly sought who had threatened him. But there was no one there. That's alright, the captain thought with narrowed eyes, I know her name. Orainne.


"Hey, Tristan, where's Niamh?" Caderyn asked, coming up beside Tristan with Hummingbird on his shoulders. "I thought you wanted me to keep an eye on her for you. And don't tell me you changed your mind, because I stayed sober just so I could watch her like you asked me to."

"She went to check on Dag. Hasn't come back yet. It's been awhile."

"Are you going to go look for her?"

"Yes," Tristan said. It wasn't like him to worry, but he couldn't help but fear that something may have happened to Niamh.

"I'll come with you," Caderyn replied with a worried look of his own. He reached up and plucked Hummingbird from his shoulders, setting her down in a chair where she quickly popped back up to stand in the seat of the chair.

"Caderyn, I wanna come look for Niamh too," she said. "I'm a good finder! I play Hide-n-Seek with Number 5, and Number 6, and Gilly all the time, and I always find them!"

"Not this time, Hummingbird. You stay here." Caderyn followed Tristan out of the tavern before Hummingbird could argue with him.

They started at Dagonet's room, verifying that Niamh was not inside before they spread out from there. Tristan picked up tracks in the dirt, noting the smudging of the footprints that signified that at least one person had been dragged away from the door. He gave Caderyn the news in a grim voice, feeling worry gnaw at his gut.

"We should split up, cover more ground," he told Caderyn. "I'll go east, you go west. We meet up at the tavern afterward." With a nod, Caderyn went left, leaving Tristan to go right. After what seemed like an eternity, Tristan was no closer to finding Niamh than he was before. Stopping at a wall, he braced himself against it, and lowered his head wearily. He couldn't give up, he knew, and he wouldn't. He was straightening when he felt a tug on his hand. He looked down to see Hummingbird staring up at him with a smile on her face.

"I'll help you look for Niamh, Tristan. I know all the good hiding spots!" Tristan looked down at her with suspicious eyes.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Not really," she answered, hedging a bit as she took his hand and set off at a brisk pace, which due to the shortness of her legs, wasn't all that brisk. "Let's go this way," she said, pulling him towards the barracks.

"I don't think she'd be there," Tristan told the precocious little girl. "There's nothing that way but barracks."

"Well, have you already looked there?" she asked him plaintively.

"No."

"Then how do you know she's not there?" Tristan didn't have an answer for her, which caused him mild irritation. She skipped along as they walked through the barracks, oblivious to the seriousness of the situation. It was all a game to her, but Tristan knew all too well that this was no game.

"Which one's your room, Tristan?" she asked as they walked along the corridor of rooms.

He pointed to the door of his room, and she broke away from him, charging at full speed for his room. "I want to see!" She shoved open his door and came to an abrupt halt in the doorway. Disarmed by her sudden stop, Tristan hurried forward, and she looked at him with a worried face. "I found her," she whispered as he came up beside her.


Orainne hurried to the courtyard of the garrison, Dayn's dagger still clutched tightly in her fist, the woad paint in a small pouch at her side. She stayed in the shadows, afraid of being approached despite the dagger she carried. Her hands shook as she recalled what it felt like to have the knife at the Roman's throat. How Dayn does it, I do not know. I almost had to kill a man, and I shake with fear. Dayn kills all the time, and it bothers him not. She didn't understand her fear, but she knew that she didn't want to go through it again. I hope Niamh found safety. She wanted to look for Niamh, but time was pressing. Soon, though. She would have killed him for Niamh's sake, if he'd tried to go after her again, but she was glad the task had not fallen to her. Tristan will take care of it, she thought, as soon as I tell him. For I'm sure Niamh will not speak of it.

As she approached the pillars that lined the courtyard, a hand shot out of the darkness, grabbing her wrist in a firm grip.

"You're late," Dayn said as he pulled her into the shadows. Orainne's heart skipped a beat until she recognized the voice of her lover.

"I'm sorry. There was trouble," she said softly. Dayn saw her trembling, and looking closer, he noticed the dagger in her hand, a sliver of blood still on the blade.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, taking the dagger from her shaking hand with a worried look.

"No, I'm alright…It's not my blood," she whispered. Her own actions had frightened her, and she found it difficult to look him in the eye. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she struggled not to let Dayn see.

"What happened?" He swiped the flat of the blade against the side of his leg, wiping the blood on his pants, as he awaited her answer.

"Niamh. She was attacked by a Roman man. I was so afraid, but I couldn't leave her. I used the dagger you gave me so that she had time to run."

"Did you kill him?" Dayn asked gently, taking her hand in his own.

"No…I just cut his cheek, that's all. Only so that Tristan would know which man to pursue. But, it frightened me," she said in a shaky voice.

"It's alright," he said pulling her close. He kissed the top of her head, and hugged her comfortingly. "You did well, Orainne." She sniffled once more before she pulled away.

"I brought the woad, Dayn. It's time." Dayn nodded, and he grasped her hand to lead her to his room. Darkness had fallen, and vengeance would wait no longer.

Orainne made quick work of painting Dayn's face, neck, and hands—the only exposed parts of his body—with the blue swirls and designs that the Woads were known for. Orainne smiled in admiration at the way the woad blended with the dark dragon tattoo that extended down from his face and neck.

Dayn pulled a cloak on over his shoulders, lifting the cowl up to obscure his features. It wouldn't do to have someone notice him with Woad designs all over his face. He secured his sword in the scabbard at his back before turning to take Orainne's hand once more.

"You should return to the village, Orainne. I don't want you here if something should go wrong."

"Not yet," she said firmly. "I need to know that Niamh is alright, first." He opened his mouth to argue with her, but she cut him off. "No, Dayn. Niamh is my friend, and I would know what happened to her before I leave."

"Very well," Dayn grumbled. "Come. Perhaps Caderyn will help you look for her while I take care of the task before me."


Niamh huddled in the corner of the room, sobbing, and Tristan was at a complete loss, having no idea how to comfort a crying female.

"You go make her feel better, Tristan, and I'll go tell Caderyn that we found her," Hummingbird said in a commanding tone. She ran out before Tristan could stop her, and he spared no worry for her, knowing that the six-year-old was quite adept at moving in and out of the garrison without anyone the wiser.

He slowly walked forward until he reached Niamh, and he knelt down, placing a hand on her shoulder. She shied away from him, as though she didn't recognize him, and he softly said her name. She looked up at him with swollen eyes, her face streaked with tears, her bruised cheek turning blue. She slowly went into his arms, trembling as he held her. She sobbed into his tunic, her fingers clenching the fabric tightly, and Tristan felt a wave of helplessness come over him. And he hated it.

"I thought he was going to leave me alone," she cried. "I should have let you come with me!" He slowly rocked her in his arms, sitting against the wall with her cradled against his side.

"Was it the captain?" She nodded, her hand coming up to cover the bruise on her cheek.

"I thought so. I'm going to take care of it, alright? You have nothing to worry about. I'll keep you safe." He picked her up in his arms, holding her close to his chest as he walked to the bed and laid her down gently. He sat beside her, smoothing her hair away from her face and wiping the tears from her eyes.


Dayn was leading Orainne back toward the tavern in an attempt to find Caderyn when he suddenly saw him being pulled across the yard by Hummingbird.

"Caderyn," he called out. Caderyn slowed to a halt to wait for Dayn and Orainne to catch up, ignoring Hummingbird pulling on him. Catching a glimpse of the blue paint on Dayn's face, he raised an eyebrow, but refrained from commenting.

"Not now, Dayn," Hummingbird said impatiently, pushing Caderyn from behind in a vain attempt to get the large knight moving. "We've gotta get to Niamh."

"Niamh?" Orainne asked excitedly.

"Orainne is worried about her," Dayn explained. "Do you know where she is, Hummingbird?"

"Of course I do," the little girl said, puffing her chest up proudly. "Now, come on!"

"NUMBER EIGHT!" The voice bellowed out, coming from the direction of the tavern and Hummingbird jerked to a stop, wincing at the sound of her father's voice.

"WHAT!" she yelled back.

"Your mother wants you in bed now!"

"I'm busy, Papa! Tell her I'll be home in a bit!"

"Now, girl! Don't make me come get you, Eight!" Hummingbird's shoulders slumped and she looked at them unhappily. "Niamh is in Tristan's room. I gotta go home now." Dayn suppressed a smile as he watched the little girl trudge back to the tavern where Bors waited before he turned to Caderyn.

"Can you take Orainne with you, Cade?"

"Sure. But where will you be?"

"It's best if you don't know. If someone should ask, you can honestly say you know nothing," Dayn replied. Caderyn gazed at him for a long moment, as though trying to decide whether to pursue the issue.

"Very well, Dayn," he agreed finally, not looking too happy about it, but knowing that Dayn was right. "May the gods go with you, and guard you on your way." Dayn turned to Orainne, taking her by the shoulders to stare in her eyes.

"Caderyn is going to take you to Niamh," he told her. "I'll try to come for you, but if things get out of hand, I want you to return to the village without me, and I'll try to catch up later. Do you understand?"

"Yes, of course. Be careful, Dayn," she said, giving him a peck on the cheek. With one last lingering smile, she took Caderyn's arm and allowed him to lead the way to Tristan's room where Niamh waited. Dayn watched them until they were out of sight, his own smile fading as an icy rage welled up inside him. It was time.


A/N: This chapter was supposed to be a lot longer…if you read my URL, you already know. But I realized that there was simply too much going on in this chapter, so I just decided it would be better to break it up a bit. Stay tuned for the action—things are definitely going to heat up in the next chapter. Keep reviewing for me!

chiefhow: Yeah, you really nailed the difference between Tristan and Dayn—definitely different in the temperament department. Hope you liked the tribute to Cei here. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope to hear what you think of this chapter.

Camreyn: The thing about Lancelot taking Cei's amulet…I'm not so sure it was guilt. I saw it more as him hanging on to Cei. Everything is so confusing for him right now, and he wants so badly to believe in something, to hang on to a time when things were simpler. I don't know…I wrote it, I know, but it's such a complicated sort of emotion to explain. But if you want to look at it as guilt, that's fine. Lance will be hanging on to the amulet for a long time…I see him wearing it with his own for the majority of his life. Anyways, thanks for the review. Can't wait to hear back from you!

Abeldina: Thanks so much for reviewing! I'm glad you came back to it, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter, too. Keep reviewing for me!

Aelia O'Hession: I'm glad you read the story and enjoyed it! It was partly thanks to you that I cut this chapter up…it was getting busy, and I worried that it might start to get confusing if I had so much going on in this chapter. Yeah, I seriously considered letting Dagonet die in the lake scene, and that was the plan for a long time, but when it came down to doing it, I found that I had gotten way too attached to him to kill him off. Oh, and I'll keep you in mind if I need help with those Celtic deities. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you'll review this chapter as well!

ModestySparrow9: It was so great to hear from you again! I hope you enjoyed the Tristan scenes in this chapter. I tried to give him and Niamh a little more "air time" so to speak. Most of the next chapter will center around Dayn again, but Tristan does have that little matter of the captain to tend to, so he'll be getting some attention as well. Oh, and I emailed you…hope you got it…I'll get back with you soon!