A/N:Thank you all for the lovely reviews, you are wonderful!
Tracy137: You're about to find out. Oohh, I love your fic. Thank you for reading this! Hope you enjoy the chapter.
Exile of Numenor: I know what you mean. I am agreeing. The real ceremony took almost a whole day, I think. I've reread it a couple of times since I read your review and wish I could go back and redo it. I hope you like this chapter.
KAfan: Lol, it ain't over yet. No way. As your about to see. Hope you like all the drama. Hehe.
Dw: Thank you for the review! Hope you like this chapter.
LANCELOTTRISTANBABY: God I know. I wish I could have a Lancelot to have my way with whenever I felt like that. Heh, that gives me an idea for a fic… Hope you enjoy this chapter.
Sheiado: Lol, knocked the boots. I like that. Entertaining? It was supposed to be mushy and romantic. But if you were entertained… Lol, I am a pervert, but hey, you read it. Lol. Argh! What's happened to your fics! I was so into Immoratl Knight, and Templar was getting really good too! Update, woman! Here's another chapter for you. Hope you like it. And go easy on the caffeine, mate.
Andromahke: Thank you! You make me blush. And it's about to get a whole lot more complicated. I'm glad your appreciating the symbolism. Heh, I just finished writing a chapter for the future, it is positively loaded with symbolism. Hope you enjoy this one though.
Evenstar-mor2004: A very good question. Lol, I didn't even think about that. Oh well. Most of these fics are loaded with historical inaccuracies. I guess that shouldn't be my excuse though. Thanks for pointing that out. And thank you for the review! Hope you enjoy this one.
JDEPlova: I'm glad you're enjoying it! Hope you enjoy this chapter too.
The green lama: Lol. Don't be too blunt, hehe. I'm glad you enjoyed the Artemis stuff. Billie Joel, huh? Have to say I've never really heard much of his stuff. Lol, thirty chapters? At the moment it's looking like 16 will be it. Sorry! Hopefully it lives up to your expectations. I hate getting to this part of a fic, you feel like you have to live up to so much cos so many people are watching. I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Meraculas: Lol, I'm glad you have popcorn because there certainly are a lot. Glad you've liked CM so far! Thanks for the review. Hope you like this one.
Scarlett: Thank you for reading and taking the time to review! I really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy this one.
Sarah: Thank you for reading and reviewing! A history buff, hey? There's so much to know! It's suffocating sometimes, just how much there is to learn. I only wish I had that funky superpower superman has, you know how he reads really quickly? That would be so cool. Thanks again, hope you like this chapter!
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 world with light, like the rising of the moon.
Crescent Moon
By katemary77
Chapter Twelve: Sunset's FireThe
young moon has fed
Her exhausted horn
With the sunset's
fire.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Corin awoke in the warm circle of Lancelot's arms. Pressing her eyes tight together, she stretched her body like a cat, bones creaking and groaning with the movement. Exhaling loudly, she opened her cornflower eyes to find Lancelot watching her, an amused expression on his face.
"Pleasantly numb?"
Her face contorted in confusion for a moment, but then she recalled a night long ago when Lancelot has escorted a drunken priestess back to her room.
She gave a quick grin. "Absolute bliss?"
He laughed and gave her a fleeting nip on the nose. "Naturally." Shifting, Lancelot slid his mouth across Corin's and gave her an easy, slow kiss. "I love you," he told her, pausing to utter the words.
"And I you," she smiled, before wrapping a loose sheet around her body and clambering out of the bed. "I should be off; Tristan will be waiting for me to bind his hands," she explained.
Lancelot nodded and kept his eyes trained on her movements, how she washed her face in the small basin in his room, how she struggled to flatten her tangled hair, and soon, how she stood bashfully before him.
"Er… Lancelot?"
"Huh?" he mumbled, snapped out of his trance.
"I need something to wear," she clarified, biting her curved lip.
Lancelot's brow furrowed. "But your robes are just there," he said, pointing out the delicate white pile by the bed. "Can't you wear them?"
Corin shook her head. "No, not anymore. They're my priestess robes, and I am no longer a priestess."
"Oh." Lancelot thought for a second, then jumped out of the bed, seemingly unaware of his nakedness. Rifling through his drawer, the knight soon triumphantly pulled out an old shirt and trousers. "Have these for as long as you want," he told her. "I no longer have use of them."
She smirked, a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks. "I beg to differ, Sir Knight, I believe some clothes would suit you nicely right about now."
Lancelot looked down, realised he was unclothed, and then grinned up at Corin lecherously. "Oh, do you not enjoy the look of my naked body, Corin?" he asked, prowling towards her.
She laughed brightly and held a hand up to cover her eyes, the other clutching the sheet closed at her front. "Put some clothes on, you debauched libertine!" Still giggling, she peeked through her fingers. "Though I must say, you've the body of a God."
He smiled. "Except for all the scars."
Frowning gently, Corin moved toward him and, with the sheet still clutched in her hands, tossed her arms about his neck, effectively covering them both in the light material.
"I think they give you character," she said softly, her eyes glimmering at his. "Every scar has a story; you have many."
"As do you," Lancelot replied, running a calloused finger along the harsh scar that marred her hip.
She nodded and then pulled away from the embrace, quickly pulling on her borrowed clothes. "I must go. But I shall see you later on, yes?"
Lancelot smiled and pulled Corin in to a deep, yearning kiss. "Yes."
"Then I'll see you later," she smiled, and then was gone.
Whistling a happy tune, Corin meandered down the hall with Tristan at her side, her eyes bright and gleaming.
"You're in an awfully good mood today," Tristan observed, glancing at her from under his many scattered braids. "This wouldn't have anything to do with you arriving at your room today in Lancelot's old clothes, would it?"
Corin grimaced. She had requested that Tristan wait to go to breakfast until she was dressed, so there was no doubt in her mind that he had not noticed her previous outfit.
"Perhaps," she said offhandedly, gazing down at her royal blue dress. "But let us not speak of that." She linked arms with the silent knight. "What do you think will be served for breakfast today? Honey cakes? Fruit? Eggs? I think I feel like bacon with…"
The Greek trailed off as she noticed the sole occupants of the dining room. Lancelot was kneeling by the Queen's chair, his hand resting on her swelled belly as the Queen beamed down at him.
"Can you feel him?" Corin heard the Queen ask Lancelot softly, referring to the growing baby inside her. "I just know it is a boy."
Her eyes travelled up to her lovers face on which was an unreadable expression, to all but Corin.
It felt as if her heart was cracking into a thousand tiny pieces.
Lancelot's face displayed emotions she had never seen before, unreadable to the well-trained eye. Devotion, worship, adoration, and whole, complete, unquestionable, undeniable love.
Lancelot was looking at the Queen the way he had never looked at Corin.
She felt a tremble shake her body, and looked up to Tristan who was standing the silent sentential beside her, an odd look of something akin to regret upon his face.
With one last look at Lancelot and Guinevere, and image that would be burned into her mind forever, Corin turned and fled.
He still loved her.
He still loved her.
Lancelot could feel it in his bones, shaking him down to the core.
He still loved the Queen.
"Can you feel that Lancelot?" she asked in her strong, ethereal voice.
Yes, he could. He could feel the soft, almost indistinguishable beat of a heart.
Her child.
Arthur's child.
He could also feel a set of dark, angry eyes watching him.
Looking up, his own dark eyes fell upon Tristan, who was gazing at him with such unadulterated fury that he actually felt a tingle of fear travel down his spine.
But then it clicked.
"I should be off; Tristan will be waiting for me to bind his hands…"Corin.
Startling the Queen, Lancelot jumped up and flew to the door.
"Where is she?" he demanded of Tristan, who stood still as a statue in the doorway. "Where did she go?"
Tristan did not blink, his eyes remaining where Lancelot had knelt on the floor. "I know not."
"Then I must find her," the knight said frantically, motioning to go through the doorway.
The scout didn't move.
"Get out of my way, Tristan," Lancelot spoke harshly.
He stayed, his face cold and impassive.
"Get. Out. Of. My. Way," the knight breathed lowly.
"What are you going to do, Lancelot?" Tristan spoke, his indecipherable eyes finally flickering to Lancelot's face. "Kill me?"
"Please, Tristan, just move!" the knight pleaded, trying a different tactic.
Nodding shortly, silently, Tristan stepped away from the door. "Go. Go and explain to Corin why you are such a fool."
She was nowhere.
Lancelot had been searching all day, and now the sun was far in the West, preparing to sink beneath the far hills.
Walking dejectedly past the throne room, Lancelot decided to try the battlements one last time.
He found her silhouetted against the setting sun, her long figure casting shadows across the stone.
"Where were you?" he demanded. "I was looking for you."
"I went to the fields," she answered quietly, her eyes never turning to his.
Lancelot shook his head. "No you didn't. I checked the stables three times, Callisto never left."
She laughed softly, under her breath. "I didn't take Callisto."
"Why not?" he asked sharply.
Her eyes flicked to his, but only for a moment. "Because I knew you to be looking for me. And I did not want to be found."
Lancelot sighed angrily. "Listen, about this morning, nothing happened, okay? I promise you – "
"I know nothing happened, Lancelot," she cut in, still speaking only so he could just hear her. "But why should that matter? You lied to me," she breathed. "You are still in love with her."
"No!" he began, taking a step closer to the woman before him. "No, Corin, I love you – "
"Do not deny it, Lancelot," she spat turning fully to look at him. "It is worthless. Do not lie to me again. You are still in love with her."
"You don't understand," he hissed already feeling the pent up rage that had resided inside him for so long boil in anger. "You have no idea what it has been like for me, these past years, it has been torture."
She shook her head. "This isn't about you Lancelot, this is about us! I am in love with you, and I am yours. But I will not be second best. I will not be the person you settle for. I am worth more than that."
"But I am not in love with her!" he shouted angrily. "You are not the person who I am settling for, I love you!"
"STOP LYING TO ME!" Corin cried, her eyes wet with tears. "Just – don't – "
"What do you want me to say, Corin?" the knight interrupted sharply. "Do you want the truth?"
Her face calmed. "Yes, Lancelot, the truth," she said, numbly, flatly.
"Fine," he began harshly. "Yes, I am in love with her, captivated by her. The way she moves, the way she speaks, the way she looks. I am in love with her," he spat. "But I am in love with you, too!"
"You cannot have us both, Lancelot," she sighed wearily, luminescent tears trailing down her cheeks.
"You're right!" he cried. "I can't have you both, I can only have you!"
Corin reeled back as if she had been struck.
"Wait, I didn't mean that – "
"I think I should leave."
The words, uttered softly, echoed in Lancelot's mind, driving deep to his core.
"What?"
Corin shook her head, her hand moving to capture a tear as it rolled down her cheek. "I think I should leave," she repeated, not quite meeting his eyes.
"And go where?" he breathed. "Back to Greece? You can't, you would be killed…"
"I know that," she replied snappishly. "Faustus. He is a kind man, I will go to him."
Lancelot trembled at the tone of her voice and stepped forward, grasping her shoulders roughly in his hands. "You cannot leave me," he said thickly, forcing her to look into his eyes. "You cannot."
Corin blinked and struggled to get away from his tight grip, but he would not yield. She struggled further, a pained, panicked look flickering in her eyes, but he would not let go.
"You cannot leave me!" he repeated, knowing in his mind that he must be bruising her, hurting her, but he could not let go.
It was not until she whimpered quietly, her face twisted in panic, that he released her, stepping back in shame and fright.
Her fingers skimming over the dark red marks he had left on her skin, Corin sent him one last startled, frightened look and whipped around, striding of the battlements and into the deepening dusk.
"Leaving?"
Corin surveyed the shocked, upset faces of the King and Queen and wondered, not for the first time, if she was doing the right thing.
"Only for a little while," she replied, squashing that thought down. "You understand, don't you?"
Arthur nodded gravely and consulted the parchment before him. "If you really want this, Corin, if you really want to leave, then you are free to go. A caravan is leaving early tomorrow morning, it will pass Birdoswald. You may go with them."
Corin nodded and wiped a salty tear from her cheek. Stepping forward, she knelt on the dais and took both Arthur's and Guinevere's hands in her own. "I want you to know how grateful I am of what you have given me. You have freely offered me a new life, something I could have never hoped for after the temple fell. Your Majesties… Arthur, Guinevere, I cannot express how thankful I am."
The King smiled bittersweetly at her and helped her rise. "You have never needed to thank us, Corin, and that still stands."
Smiling through her tears, Corin placed her hand over Guinevere's belly. "I'll be back for him," she assured the Queen. "I promise you I will be back for him."
Turning, she descended the steps and made a slow, heavy track across the room. As she neared the door and moved to push it open, Corin heard a sudden flurry of movement and turned just in time to catch the Queen as she hurtled towards her.
"I will miss you terribly," the Woad whispered, embracing her friend tightly. "And whatever it is you are looking for, I hope you find it."
She moved slowly but fluidly, attaching a few bags of her belongings to Callisto's saddle. Irritably, she brushed a stray lock of hair away from her fair, and in doing so noticed the uncontrollable shaking of her hands. Growling, Corin clasped the offending appendages together in an attempt to calm her nerves. She was jittery, prickly, starting at the smallest noise.
"You're really leaving."
Lancelot stood in the middle of the stables, his face contorted in an odd mixture of sorrow and scepticism.
Corin nodded. It was true. She had already said her brief goodbyes to Vanora and the other knights, leaving them short but bittersweet.
"I thought – I thought you – "
"I do," she interrupted smoothly, quietly, not needing volume to slice through Lancelot's cracked speech. "I'm just not sure that you do."
"Don't leave," he whispered, as if his very soul would shatter if she moved away. "Please don't leave me."
Corin let out a broken moan. "I have to! Please don't do this, don't make it harder than it already is."
But then she noticed something that tilted her world upside down, if only for a moment.
Lancelot was crying.
With dulled, dismal movements, he walked over to her and sunk to his knees, burying his face in her stomach. His arms wrapped around her waist and held her in a tight lock as he wept into her dress.
"Please don't leave me," he gasped. "I love you – I promise I love you… don't leave, don't leave."
Corin attempted to break free from his death grip, but he was too strong.
"Let me go."
"No," Lancelot murmured stubbornly, his voice muffled through the folds of her dress.
"Lancelot," she whispered, "please let me go, I need to go. Please?"
He loosened his hold somewhat, and looked up at her.
Corin bit back a gasp at his face; she had never seen a man more broken.
"Tell me what to do and I'll do it. Anything, Corin, to make you stay."
She bit her lip, willing the words not to spill forth. "Tell me you love me. Look me in the eyes, Lancelot, and tell me that you love me. Tell me that I am the only woman you love."
He looked away.
A sob tore from Corin's throat that ripped Lancelot's heart in two.
Gently easing herself from his slackened grip, Corin took Callisto's reigns and quietly left the stables.
She didn't look back.
A/N: Sob sob. Not too dramatic, I hope. Please don't hate me.
More bad news. This fic is drawing to a close. I just wrote the draft for the last chapter. That's so scary. I'm going to try something new. Following are a list of questions I'd love to have your ideas on, a kind of research for the stories I have running rampant in my head. You don't have to answer them if you don't want to, or you can answer some or all. But I thought they'd probably be advantageous to any writer who wants to use the feedback, which I will happily send to you via email. So anyway, here they are. Be honest.
Was this fic too fast-paced/ too slow-paced?
Was there too much action/to little action?
The length of the chapters (usually around 10 pages) – too long? Too short?
How quickly I was updating – too slow? Too quick?
Corin – was she too perfect? Did she need to be more flawed?
My mild smut – should I never do that again? Heehee.
Too romantic and mushy? Not enough?
The quotes/poems at the beginning. Did you like that? Was it just stupid?
What was the worst thing about it?
The best?
I'll think of more of these.
For my next fic, I presently have two ideas, both of which I will eventually write. But I'm having problems choosing the one I should do first. I'm not even leaning towards one. What do you think?
Possibly my take on Tristan/Isolde. But different. Ultimately just a Tristan/OC fic with aspects of Tristan/Isolde in it.
A fic not unlike Crescent about a girl from a different culture. Tristan/OC.
What do you think?
Feedback appreciated.
