Disclaimer: I own nobody, but the characterization of Madb, a Celtic goddess of war.

Rating: PG
Summary: Tristan dies and finds a strange woman waiting for him. (A companion piece to the 'Forest of Eternal Slumber' and 'The Dead Lands') ENJOY!

Feedback: Welcome (extremely welcome!)

Queen of the Underlands

Tristan opened his eyes; he gazed upon the gray sky above him, smoke filling the air as it had during the last battle. There was one man to kill, one man who had beaten him down, and now, feeling rejuvenated, Tristan knew he could beat his opponent.

"Caaww!"

The cry of the raven alerted the knight and he saw, in the distance, a black shape cascading through the wisps of smoke, circling down to him. Tristan felt a searing pain, that of a memory, the hawk he had released in his death.

Swooping down, the raven came at him fast, but deftly landed and perched atop a sword mounted in the ground. Turning to his right, staring at the raven with suspicion, Tristan rose despite the reoccurring pains he felt from being a warrior. "Hello, new friend," Tristan smiled, finally standing, and nodded to the raven in reverence, "might I have my sword, then?"

Tilting its head, the raven studied Tristan for a moment and when the man moved, the bird flew off in a flutter of feathers. Smiling after the aviator, Tristan watched as the bird continued to stay close and circled around him several times. Finding this behavior confusing, even for a bird, Tristan moved to his sword and plucked it from the ground.

There was a great thundering from the skies and when Tristan turned to search for his comrades he came face to face with a pale young woman, her eyes like that of the sapphire Sarmatian sky, and her hair black as ebony, spun by the moon herself.

For a few moments Tristan was held by her beauty, there was a scar across her cheek, and even despite all her markings and strangeness she was pristine in appearance. Blue woad marked her bare skin, her lips red despite the cold and when she breathed, her nostrils contracted, producing steam like some sort of angry bull.

"Woad," Tristan said in distaste suddenly, "what business have you with me, woman?"

Taking a step forward, Tristan felt a great sense of ferocity in this woman, her eyes holding his without question or obedience. The woman was as wild as the boar, as free as the falcon, and as commanding as a lion, but she was clearly Woad.

"Welcome to the underlands," The woman said, her deep voice and commanding, "Sarmatian."

Without further words, the woman turned and disappeared into the fiery depths behind her, glancing back only once in invitation. Tristan followed quietly, noting the woman's physique, much fuller than Guinevere's, and she wore barely any clothes, except for animal skins covering her most precious and abundant parts.

Passing through the gray air, Tristan tried to keep up with the woman who, with spear and shield in her grasp, continued toward a forest not far from them. Tristan noted the greenery, too dense to pass through with a horse and it would be just as hard to pass through by himself.

A blue eyed glance from the woman in front of him and Tristan felt chills, her eyes so cold and fearless. Now was a chance to speak. "What are the 'underlands'?"

"My realm." Said the woman. "The realm of the warriors, the warlords, the men of blood and boldness. Would you be one of those men, Sarmatian?"

So when you died in a strange land, their gods were now your gods. Had he died? Tristan couldn't remember dying. "That is for your own choosing, woman."

A frigid smirk was his reply and she looked back to her destination, the forestry was only steps away now. Suddenly a raven cawed loudly and landed in haste on a branch before them.

"Ah, my dearest friend," the woman said, petting the bird, the silver rings she wore covered in runes and capped with black rocks, "what news have you for Badb?"

"Badb…" Tristan repeated the name beneath his breath, knowing the name and yet still lost.

The raven took to a short flight and landed on Badb's shoulders, cawing again once more, it's black, soulless eyes on Tristan. Badb turned to face the warrior, her cold eyes studying him harshly. "Death took him, my friend," Badb reached up and stroked her pet's feathers gently, "his fate is decided."

Once again the raven cawed, as if in argument to the goddess, and so she nodded in reply. "Should Cernunnos gather word of this, he will certainly grow very cross."

Seeing the woman's agreement, the bird spread its wings and flew away. Badb looked to Tristan once more. "You are cursed then, warrior, to walk the world of mortals once more," Badb said, "your thread was cut short and the fates wish to make amends."

"Back to the world of warfare and waste." Tristan replied with a smirk, sheathing his sword. "Will I meet my companion once more?"

"It is she who bartered your release." Badb smirked, walking toward Tristan, who quickly explored the woman's body with ease. "You should thank her."

With that, the goddess took her spear and ran it through Tristan's heart, making him cry out with pain. "Badb!" Tristan cried out. "I am not ready!"

The shrieking call of a falcon could be heard overhead and when Tristan opened his eyes he saw the sky, gray and familiar. The smell of the smoke choked him and the shouts of dying men made him go stiff.

There was a dot in the sky then, something was swooping through the smoke, and there she landed, perching atop Tristan's sword. "Old friend…" Tristan smiled at his hawk and she cried in reply, "thank you."

Making another call, the hawk then disappeared into the smoke, and then the groaning sound of men came closer. "Tristan!"

Tristan grunted when Galahad came near and leant down to help him. "Tristan, are you all right?"

"What does it look like, you idiot?" Gawain shot back, moving to Tristan's side. "He needs a doctor, hurry, Galahad, help me."

Tristan coughed, tasting blood. When he looked to the sky a raven spiraled in the air above him.