A/N:
Sweet A.K: Thank you! I'm trying to really incorporate the whole 'unrequited love' thing into it as much as possible, because I think far too many authors just don't deal with it at all. Thanks for the review!
je suis une pizza: Lol. A pizza who no one like. I love it. Poor little creature indeed. I hope there is enough of the other knights in this chapter to satisfy you. If not, let me know and I'll try to write some more in. I'm glad everybody likes that Lance didn't fall immediately in love with Cor. Good stuff. Thanks so much for the reviews and support!
Andromahke: Thanks for another great review! I'll probably keep the rating here, though it might go up for a future chapter. I'm trying to focus on Lance's relationship (or lack of) with Guin, so I'm glad you like it. Hope you like this chapter!
Shorty51: Thank you so much! I hope this was quick enough for you and that you enjoy this chapter!
Szhismine: I'm glad you like the mythology! I've always loved that kind of stuff and I'm so happy no one has complained about it, cos it's not going away! Thanks for reviewing!
Evenstar: Good! Don't worry, you won't have to wait too long and there will be plenty of fluff and sexual tension in the chapters leading up to it. I just admit, I hadn't thought to hard on what Bors does now he is retired, but now that you've asked, he still attends any of their meetings, but doesn't go out and fight. Now he spends his time being a father to his many children and making more of them. Heh. Thanks so much for the support and reviews!
i wish i were a cloud: Really! Thank you so much for saying that! I thought his last line was very fitting too, and I tried to make it so it wasn't hugely obvious. Lol, your story isn't porn either. It kinda made me laugh when I read that it was, because I've read some pretty graphic stuff on this site and this most definitely is not bad at all. Though it may get a little more… heated later. Thankyou so much for your continuous reviews, and don't worry about the length of them. The longer the better! Lol, I haven't said it too much because I wanted to keep the focus away from Corin's looks as much as possible, but her hair is a blonde goldeny colour. My best friend is from one of the Greek islands and Corin's appearance is based partly on her. She has very gold skin, gold hair and blue eyes. Hope you like this chapter!
Valia-Elf: Lol, I'm glad we share the same opinion! Thanks so much for your reviews and support, I appreciate it beyond words. Hope you like this chapter!
Elemmire: And I love you! Thanks so much for reviewing. I'm glad you like how I'm portraying Lancey, though he may get a little sappy in the future. I'm a hopeless romantic at heart. But never fear, I promise lots of drama and angsty angst. Hope you like this chapter! And as for the reward, you'll just have to keep reading…
Flaming Mushrooms: Oh my, you are my favourite person! Your reviews are so encouraging and inspiring! Lol, I can promise lots of internal conflict, don't you worry about that! As for the whole unrequited love thing, I can't just give away my plot, now can I? But you're sorta on the right track. I'm so happy everyone likes that Lancey is still in lub with Guinevere. I actually hadn't read the story of Echo and Narcissus when you mentioned it, although I had heard of it and knew the main gist. But I just read it then. Uh. Such a sad, unfair story. But then, most Greek myths are that way. Lol, if you're a geek then I am too. We can be geeks together! I'm so glad you like the convo between Lance and Cor, especially that line you pointed out. I didn't want her to come right out and say it, and I thought that was a nice way for her to say it, especially considering Artemis is Goddess of the Moon. And keep rambling! I love reading your reviews so much! Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Hope you like this one…
Summary: Years after the battle on Badon Hill, Lancelot has resigned himself to a loveless life, ever watching from the sidelines. But his hope is slowly restored when he meets a young woman, who fills his life with light, like the rising of the moon.
Crescent Moon
By katemary77
Chapter Six: Her Midnight Throne
How like a queen comes forth the lonely Moon
From the slow opening curtains of the clouds
Walking in beauty to her midnight
throne!
- George Croly
A few weeks later only moments after Apollo had driven his fiery chariot across the sky, Corin, fully healed and aching for some physical activity, found herself with a borrowed bow in the archery yard of Camelot.
Drawing a slim arrow and placing it to the bow, Corin drew the string taut and fired, embedding the wooden shaft deeply in its target. Smiling faintly, Corin nocked another arrow and aimed. She was just about to fire when –
"You're up early."
Jumping, Corin let the arrow go and watched dismally as it sailed and sunk into the board at the other end of the field, three hands from its intended mark.
"You missed," the deep, accented voice said, and Corin turned to find the knights' scout standing directly behind her, his dark eyes glinting with amusement under his choppy, unevenly cut hair.
"I can see that," she said dryly, setting out to collect her spent arrows. "And why are you up so early?"
"I thought I asked you that," Tristan joked at her retreating back.
"Nay, you did not," Corin threw over her shoulder. "You merely commented on the hour."
"Oh," he nodded. "I wasn't sure. Thank you for confirming that for me."
"Anytime, Sir Knight," she mumbled, yanking her arrows out of the heavy wooden board.
They spent the next hour or so arching silently, each discreetly peeking at the others technique and trying to discern any weaknesses. Tristan could find almost none in Corin; her aim was perfect, her skills honed by many years behind a bow. Her only failing would be that she was slightly limited in far-range shooting, as she was not as physically strong as he. Corin, however, noticed that the scout often clenched his fists irritably at his sides, nonetheless furtively, and on occasion he would wince with pain as he loosed his arrow.
"Hey! You were starting without us!" came a sudden call from above them.
Turning, Corin and Tristan found Gawain and Galahad looking down on them from the castle. "Starting what?" Corin yelled up to them.
"An archery tournament!" Gawain shouted. "We want to see which of you is better! You two stay right there, we'll go and get the others."
Sighing, Corin and Tristan nodded as the two young knights above rushed off to find their friends.
Galahad, turning to face them once more before they rounded the corner, grinned cheekily. "And don't you fire another arrow until we're there!"
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"Are you sure you are fully healed, Lady Corin?" Tristan asked as the other knights took their place in line.
"Yes Tristan, I assure you I am perfectly fine."
"And you dressed fittingly for an archery competition?" he said, glancing down at her pale rose gown.
Growling softly, Corin turned to the man. "Please, Sir Knight, it is only a dress! Stop making excuses!" she cried exasperatedly.
Bors laughed raucously, as did the other knights. "That's right, lassie, you tell him," the boisterous knight chuckled.
Arthur, the only knight who was not taking part in the competition, surveyed the growing crowd. "The first part of the tournament will test speed. Each contestant is given twenty arrows in the quiver upon their back, and the aim is to see how many each can shoot within fifteen seconds. When the first whistle sounds, they will shoot, and will stop by the second whistle, when we shall see how many of my noble knights will remain in the competition against Lady Corin," the King said with a wry grin. "I will give a count before we start."
"One…two…three!" Arthur gave a shrill whistle, and the air was filled with the sound of bowstrings and arrows cutting through the air and the dull, satisfying thwack as each arrow hit its target.
All the knights had exceptional shots, but it was still clear who would make it to the second round. Corin, Tristan and Galahad waited patiently while their arrows were returned to them and the boards at the opposite end of the field were moved a further twenty feet away.
Arthur's piercing whistle sounded once more, and Corin drew her hand back to the quiver behind her, aimed, and fired, repeating this eight times before the time, cut shorter than before, was up. Surveying the targets, Corin saw that Tristan also had eight arrows embedded in his target, but Galahad only five. Bowing and giving Corin a sly wink, the youngest knight retrieved his arrows and left the archery line.
"Sir Tristan and Lady Corin have made it to the second and final part of the tournament, which will decide the winner," Arthur told the excited throng of people. "The marks will be set sixty feet away and each shall fire his or her arrows into the target. Every time they hit the bullseye the board will be moved twenty feet back. This will be continued until there is one remaining archer, who will be declared winner of tournament."
"Ready… aim… fire!"
THWACK!
The boards were moved to eighty feet.
"Ready… aim… fire!"
THWACK!
The boards were moved to a hundred feet.
"Ready… aim… fire!"
THWACK!
A hundred and twenty feet…
"Ready… aim… fire!"
THWACK!
A hundred and thirty feet…
The game continued until the sun was high in the sky, and both Corin and Tristan had reached an amazing 340 feet away, almost at the end of the huge training field.
Letting out a low breath, Corin reached behind her, nocked an arrow, and aimed carefully. She knew it would be her last shot.
"No praying to your Lady, Corin," Lancelot said slyly from where he watched with the King.
She scoffed, her eyes narrowing on the bullseye. "Do you really think I would pray to my gods over something so little as an archery competition?"
"I'm praying to mine," Tristan said quietly as he watched her take aim.
"I would be too, Tristan," Galahad laughed. "You're about to get beaten by a girl."
Smiling sweetly, Corin released the string and watched as her arrow sailed in an ark, embedding itself directly in the middle of the distant bullseye. "Your shot," she told the other knight, giving him a brief nod.
Tristan frowned and pulled an arrow from his quiver.
"Come on, Tristan, do it for all of us," Bors growled. "Don't let this little snip of a girl beat you!"
Tristan nodded slightly and pulled the string taut, his face briefly contorting in pain, before loosing the arrow, immediately dropping his bow to the ground after he did.
Corin didn't need to look to know that the arrowhead would be mere millimetres from the centre.
The crowd gave a collective gasp.
"Lady Corin wins," the King announced to the crowd with a slightly surprised tone. After a short moment of astounded silence, the gathering of Camelot's citizens burst into raucous applause, each calling out praise and congratulations to the golden-haired girl.
Corin nodded meekly and turned Tristan. "You are a worthy opponent, Sir Knight," she told him sincerely. "That would have been my last shot."
The knight nodded and smiled as his comrades swamped the lady before him, accepting her commiserations with dignity.
"We will have a dinner tonight to celebrate," Arthur told the knights and Corin.
They all let out similar shouts of delight and moved in one throng toward the castle to celebrate, leaving Tristan standing alone on the field.
Or so he thought.
"What ails your hands, Sir Knight?"
Tristan looked up sharply, astounded that someone had discovered his troubling appendages. "It is nothing," he murmured to the girl, flexing and unflexing his fingers. "Just a little ache is all."
Corin frowned. "I could help you, if you would let me. It would be a shame to let something silly like pride stand in the way of using your hands, for it will only get worse."
Tristan nodded silently and stalked off, taking his bow with him. "Congratulations, Corin," he threw over his shoulder. "You truly are an admirable archer."
She spoke her thanks and sighed. The scout loosing the full use of his hands would be a huge disadvantage to Arthur and his knights. Grumbling incoherently about silly men and their silly pride, Corin strode quickly off the archery field, a nice hot bath foremost in her mind.
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Corin sat at the small vanity in her room and gently let her long hair loose of it's braid, running her nimble fingers through the tangles before sweeping up the sides into a twist at the back of her neck, the remainder falling down to her waist.
Walking over to her cupboard, Corin carefully rifled through her newly made dresses before coming to a stop at the deep scarlet gown Guinevere had told her to wear, being the most elegant of her wardrobe. It was a beautiful dress, with a wide scoop collar that showed the curve of her neck, and delicate gold ribbing at the hem and waist. The only problem was that it was Roman styled, with slits from the shoulder to elbow, and Corin had not yet shown her arms in the company of others since her days as a priestess.
But she could not so blatantly go against what her Queen and friend had asked of her, so she slipped the dress over her head determinedly, giving herself a firm nod. And just as she had slid on her slippers, a soft tap resonated around the room. Corin stood up curiously to see who was at her door.
"Lancelot!" she said in surprise as she swung the heavy wooden door open. "Is everything alright?"
The dark knight smirked and gave Corin a short bow before offering his arm. "I come to escort the champion to dinner."
Corin tilted her head back and laughed. "And would you have escorted Tristan to dinner, if he had won?"
Lancelot shrugged. "Luckily, that question need never be answered as you, my fair lady, beat him so soundly. So, will you allow me to escort you to dinner, Corin?"
She curtsied and smiled, looping her left arm around his right. "As you wish, Sir Knight."
They ambled down the hallway in amiable silence for a while, before Lancelot glanced down and stopped suddenly in his tracks, pulling Corin's arm out of his. "You have a tattoo," he said idly, his eyes fixed on the small crescent moon on the inner side of Corin's forearm, just before her elbow, with an arrow running through it and a star settled in the corner.
"Yes, every servant of Artemis is given the moon," Corin told him. "The arrow that pierces mine represents my being huntress and defender of the temple, and the star is Sirius, brightest in the Heavens, and symbolises my standing as High Priestess.
Lancelot nodded and placed her arm back in his as they continued walking. "Did it hurt?" he asked curiously.
"Yes," Corin admitted. "Quite a bit, actually."
"I can imagine," he replied dryly, guiding her into the dining room.
"Ah, and here she is," the King, standing and raising his goblet to Corin along with the rest of the knights and the Queen as the Greek hurried to her seat. "Let us raise or drinks to Corin, who has finally done something that none ever thought possible; beaten our enigmatic scout at his own game."
Corin blushed prettily as Tristan, grumbling good-naturedly, threw her a cheerful wink and drank deeply from his chalice.
"To Corin!"
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"More wine, Corin?"
"Oh, yes please, Vanora," the Greek girl gushed, "that would be lovely!"
"I think Corin may've had enough wine tonight," Tristan said smugly from the dark corner where he sat, carefully cutting up and eating an apple with his knife.
Corin's eyes widened. "Entirely untrue!" she denied promptly, her voice full of disbelief. "I don't know how you could suggest such a thing, Sir Knight, it is downright scandalous!" Standing up indignantly, Corin set out to the bar where Vanora cradling her newborn babe, but found herself to be slightly hindered when she was pulled into the lap of a rather inebriated knight.
"Corin, sweetling, where do you think you're going?" he said, burying his curly head in her shoulder.
"Sir Knight!" Corin cried, "I am a Lady! Not some woman of ill repute! I really do think you should remove your hands."
Galahad groaned and nodded into her back. "You're right, Corin," he mumbled, releasing her from his tight hold. "I'm so very sorry."
Corin stood and laughed, placing a kiss on his brow. "No harm done. Can I get you anything from the bar?"
The youngest knight groaned again and shook his head. "No, Corin, I think I've had enough tonight."
Nodding, the priestess turned to resumed her trek to Vanora, but once again found herself to be impeded, but this time by a broad chest that she ungracefully bumped into.
"Ow."
Chuckling, Lancelot, whom the chest belonged to, steered Corin over to a chair and sat her down.
"I think this shall be the last time I accept an invitation to the tavern, Lancelot," she said, rubbing her forehead gingerly.
"Ah, but Gawain and Galahad can be a most persuasive pair," he joked, looking her over to make sure she had obtained no further injuries from their small collision. "But this may be the last time I allow you anywhere near large quantities of wine."
Corin growled. "I am not drunk," she insisted. "Just… pleasantly numb."
"Well, Corin," he informed her, "there are plenty of other ways to achieve this 'pleasantly numb' state, let me assure you, that do not involve six goblets of wine. Would you like me to take you back to your room?"
"As long as you promise that you won't try and show me any of these other ways," she said half-seriously, only then noticing how many malevolent glares she was receiving from the women in the room.
"Sold. Up you get, then."
After many theatrical goodbyes, Lancelot and Corin were out of the tavern and walking through the quiet streets of Camelot, on their way to the castle.
"I remember the very first time I got drunk," Corin said fondly. "I was only thirteen or fourteen, and I had snuck into the wine cellar. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about." She laughed gaily. "I must've drunk a whole bottle of our finest wine before Acheron found me."
"And how much trouble did you get in?" Lancelot wanted to know.
"None!" Corin cried triumphantly. "He scolded me very briefly, before taking down a bottle of his own. Always had a soft spot for me, Acheron."
When they had reached Corin's room Lancelot made to step inside but was stopped by Corin's hand on his chest. "Uh uh," she said playfully, waggling a finger at him. "Don't even think about it, Knight. I've heard enough stories about you."
Lancelot moulded a look of mock-hurt onto his face. "You wound me, Corin! What you are suggesting had not even crossed my mind!"
"Nevertheless, it is late and I must go to sleep," she told him. "Besides, you have a tavern and lots of lovely bar wenches to get back to."
Lancelot shook his head. "Sleep sounds good to me too, Corin. Goodnight then."
Catching his arm before he turned around, Corin impulsively lent up and placed a soft kiss on Lancelot's cheek. "Sleep well, Sir Knight."
And she closed the door on Lancelot, leaving him standing bewildered in the torch lit corridor. 'I am a lady of Artemis, that is all,' she had told him some weeks ago, and Lancelot would spend many nights contemplating exactly what that meant.
A/N: La la la. Review! Hope you like it. If you did, tell me! Just letting all you lovely people know that very, very unfortunately I have started school. (Sigh.) Year Eleven. Uh oh, only a little while to go and then this little girl will be in uni! What a scary, terrifying though. So yeah, what I'm trying to say is that updates might not be so frequent, as I try to have a few chapters ready and waiting before posting. But I'm still avidly writing, so don't fret, I shouldn't slow down TOO much. Now, review!
