Disclaimer: I own nothing of King Arthur but I do own the character Bellatrix.

Author note:

Sorry I can't reply to individual reviews, running short of time. I just wanted to say that 'Bellatrix' means female warrior. Please enjoy…and of course…REVIEW!

Chapter 1: Pride and being jaded

Boring. Boring. Boring. That's all my life was. I spent my days healing the sick, eating and sleeping. What was my life? BORING!

Tristan kept even more silent that usual, which was driving me to the brink of insanity, as was his staring. We'd been in four arguments in the past two days. It consisted of me shouting at him, him glaring at me a hissing something in return and each of us coming close to using our weapons to solve the problem. And we would have if Arthur hadn't stuck his nose in our business.

I glared at the both of them and walked out of the stables calmly, with my head held high. Tristan followed shortly after telling Arthur, as Bors and Lancelot walked in, that I was the most insufferable annoying woman he'd ever met in his life. It didn't help his fury when Bors muttered that we should get married. I heard him and knocked the back of his head. "What lunatic would marry him?" I asked before going back to my shop.

Tristan froze in the doorway of the stables upon hearing my words, clenched his fists, and walked out with no expression on his face. "That woman…" he muttered as he made his way to his room.

Bors and Lancelot smirked at Arthur who looked worse for wear. "They'll keep fighting," Bors said, in a calm voice. He pulled his horse saddle off the rack and carried it to his horse. "When the shit really hits the fan, I'm going to plan his funeral."

"Why his?" Arthur asked as Bors tied the latch around the horses belly. "Why won't Tristan kill her?"

Lancelot snorted. "Have you learned nothing? She's faster."

"Definitely," Bors agreed.

"He won't know what hit him," Lancelot said passively. He put a hand to his chest and said, "I feel for him, really, but she's a woman with the temper of a canal horse."

"Not something you want to get involved in," Bors agreed, pulling his horse out of its stall by the reins.

0-0-0

As a tears slipped down my cheek Vanora handed me a mug of milk. "Drink this dearie," she said softly and sat down opposite me.

I looked around the empty tavern quickly before taking a sip of the milk. Ally, one of the pretty bar maids patted my hand kindly after just having listened to my whole…ordeal. I smiled at her as she sat down beside Vanora. "I don't know why we fight so much," I muttered tearfully. I looked at the ceiling, blinking away me tears and said, "I mean, it's not as if I hate him or anything."

"He drives you crazy," Vanora said knowingly.

I nodded.

"He says things that if were said by another person wouldn't hurt so much," Vanora continued. I nodded and Ally smiled.

"The moment you tell one another you hate each other, you feel a pang in your heart," Ally said.

I froze and thought about it for a moment, "I've never said I hated him."

"And him?" Vanora asked. "Hasn't he?"

"Well, he's not one to talk about that sort of things, is he?" I asked. "I mean…he's come close to it but…I've always managed to turn the tables and cut him off before he gets really angry."

Ally blinked and fiddled with her hands. "Do you fancy him Bella?" she asked curiously.

I coughed on the milk I was drinking and wiped my mouth as I tried to compose myself. "What?"

Vanora giggled. "You do, don't you?"

I looked at her in shock. I felt as if I was being put on a pedestal and being assessed. "I..I do not," I said in a small voice.

Do I? I do not fancy that…killing machine! I looked at both women and shook my head. "You're out of your minds if you think that," I told them.

Vanora clicked her tongue but did not say anything more as Galahad and Dagonet walked into the tavern. I gave them both a small smile and looked down at my hands. My head suddenly felt light and wheezy. "I'm going to bed," I muttered. I bid the Knights goodnight before heading to my room in the inn.

"But..," Vanora began, as I left, "it's only sun down."

I flopped down onto my soft bed and closed my eyes. Everything hurt at the moment. I couldn't even think without having my mind bombarded with thoughts of him. Why did he irritate me so? Did he hate me? I don't know.

0-0-0

That night in the tavern, it was one of the busiest nights they'd ever had. Ally, who had taken great sympathy to Bellatrix, gave the knights the cold shoulder; especially to Tristan. She put down his mug of ale and scowled at him before walking away.

Tristan looked around the table for an answer as to why all the barmaids were acting oddly and received a set of shrugs. Brushing it off as a 'female thing' he continued to watch the tavern in silence. Where was Bella?

'Why am I thinking of her?'

His question was soon answered when Bors inquired the same thing to Vanora.

"She went to bed hours ago," she said dismissively. "Poor girl," she added dramatically.

Tristan clenched his jaw as Vanora gave him a withering look before retreating to the bar. Why did she have to go and tell the whole world about their arguments? Wasn't it bad enough that they fought?

He didn't like making a scene of things. If only she wasn't so…annoying, he'd be able to live his life in a calmer way. But no, she had to be everywhere and make sure that…that everyone knew her. Why couldn't she just be less of a people person? It added to his anger that she was always being propositioned by men and it took him of all people to help her out of the rut. Not that she hadn't been grateful; he rather liked the look in her eyes when she thanked him for helping her.

A flutter emerged in his chest as he thought of that look. What did it mean exactly?

0-0-0

My life before coming to Britain was so different. Seas of sand and green grounds and…the palace. It was lovely. I remember by mother telling me not to run barefoot on the cold floors because I would become ill. It was always so hot that sometimes I could not help but take them off. My sister, she was older than me, would always sneak off at night to the lake where, at first, I thought she was there to relax and bathe. That was until I realised that she was having an affair with one of the soldiers.

My sister – the heir of the fortune and more importantly, throne, was having an affair with a poor man who was in charge of the house security. I couldn't fault her though. He was a very handsome man, who as I heard personally, told her he loved her and their plans to run away together. That was until my idiot father decided to betroth her to another man. I didn't like this new one very much. He had a strange look in his eye and I knew the only reason he wanted to marry my sister was because she was beautiful and rich.

So the plan was set in motion. My sister, Isabel, and her lover, Emanuel, fled from the house a few days before the wedding. Isabel came into my room just before leaving and handed me a leather bound necklace and kissed me goodbye. "I love you, Bella," she whispered. I can still hear her voice as she said those words.

I have not seen her since that night. Upon realising my sisters deceit, her betrothed, Adam, was shamed and declared for my whole family to be killed for my sisters actions. My mother, being the intelligent woman she was, packed me a small bag and with my nanny boarded me on the first ship to Britain.

It was a wonder to me as to why my nanny, Andrea, was so loyal to my mother. I arrived on Britain's shores with her under the cover of a poor slave girl and moved to the village where two years later, it would be attacked by the Saxons and I would be raised my Knights.

I often think of Isabel. Is she happy? Does she have children? Does she think of me often? I don't even know what happened to my parents. I doubt that they would have thought much of me since sending me away. I was always referred to as the spare. The heir and the spare is what Isobel and I were to our country. Not women, or a warrior; which is what my people are famous for being, but merely royal blood which would be married off to the richest man to ensure a growing royal family for the Spaniards.

I pulled at the necklace my sister had given me all those years ago and stared at it. No one would love me. Why should they? My life is a lie and I have been brought up in a place where people think I'm something I'm not.

The next day I opened my shop earlier than usual. I had slept so much the previous night that I found myself awake before dawn. Arthur came in early and told me that there would be guests arriving at Hadrian's Wall from a distant land. Why would they want to come here?

A Roman official arrived in the morning, accompanied by the Knights, and in the night large black horses pulled up in front of the Wall.

"Who goes there?" called the Roman guard.

"I am Adam, second cousin to the King of the Spain," called a man wearing a hooded cloak. "I am here to see Arthur Castus."

"Welcome," Arthur said curtly. I stood beside Dagonet looking at the man curiously. I'd seen him somewhere before. "I trust your journey was safe."

"As well as can be expected," Adam replied shortly. He looked around at the group of Knights and gave them a simple nod in greeting. Arthur stepped aside as the Roman official, a tall robust man with a head of curly blond hair, greeted the guest.

Behind Adam stood six men. All of them had tattoos on their faces and bodies along with a golden bangle on their right wrists. I stepped further into the shadows, not wanting to be seen by these people, and walked backward into my shop where I closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief.

The Gods were not with me on this day. The door suddenly opened and I jumped back in shock. "What are you doing?" I demanded, clutching my chest to reduce the rate of my heart beat.

"Why did you sneak away?" Tristan accused. "Arthur is looking for you."

"I didn't run away," I snapped.

"I didn't say you did. I asked why you snuck away," he said, knowing he was getting on my nerves again.

I gapped at him for a moment before demanding that he get out. "You are driving me insane with this!" she yelled at him. "Now, get out!"

"No," he said under his breath. "Why did you sneak away?"

"Because I' tired and am not in the mood to see people at the moment," I said in a huff.

"You're lying," he said in a dangerous voice. He arched an eyebrow in mute question. I glared at him and joyously said, "I'm not going to tell you."

He narrowed his eyes, but showed no emotion, and raised himself to his full height – which was quite tall in my opinion. Still I was not intimidated and thought of an idea. I pulled him by the sleeve to the side of the room. I stood on the chair and now looked down at him. Tristan chuckled and shook his head. "You're a funny girl," he said.

"I know," I replied, crossing my arms across my chest and looking down at him smugly. "Now will you get out?"

"No," he said simply. He was not going to win this. I glared at him defiantly for a long moment before smirked at me, pulled me off the chair and before I had time to yell at him for ruining my moment…he kissed me.

"What the-"

Tristan broke the kiss, still holding onto me, and looked at a bewildered Galahad. I smirked and pulled Tristan back to my lips by the collar of his tunic. After the door closed a pulled my mouth away from his. "Ha!" My pleasure quickly melted away at the smirk on his lips. I looked at him accusingly. "How did you-?"

"It's not hard to realise," he said airily. "Your skin is sun kissed, your hair is dark, your eyes are darker…you're Spanish."

"How long have you known?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him as my fury rose.

"Since we found you in the village," he said calmly, but I knew he felt cocky.

"And you've never said anything because…" I waved my hands around asking for an explanation.

Unusually for Tristan, he smirked at me; again. "Why did you do that?" I demanded of him secretly hoping he was going to give me a different answer to the one I knew was coming.

"Kiss you?" he asked. He arched an eyebrow, took my arm by the elbow and led me to the door. "Because it was fun."

"Fun!" I demanded as he opened the door to reveal Bors and Lancelot listening in. I looked at them angrily and yanked my arm from Tristan's grip. "It was the worst I've ever had in my life," I snapped, taking a moment to enjoy his bruised ego – but he showed no emotion. Instead, he lent in closer to me and whispered, "You loved every moment."

Lancelot gapped at us both. Angrily, I shoved my way through the men and stomped up to the main building. The man had broken my last string of patience. How dare he! I looked back to them and scoffed as the stood by the bottom of the stairs, afraid to climb in case my temper waved further than my arms length. I lifted my skirts, held my head high and walked to the crowd of men who were congregated outside the meeting room which held the round table.

Arthur smiled at me as I drew nearer. Dagonet and Gawain leaned their heads together. Gawain whispered, "They had another fight. He's glaring at her and she's putting on airs."

Dagonet smirked but straightened up as Tristan went to stand beside him. "At it again, eh?"

Tristan clenched his jaw and glared at me as I casually greeted the guests. I spared a glance at him before following Galahad into the meeting room. What was I doing here again?

Author Note:

So what do you think? Enough drama? Is it funny because I'm not naturally gifted with humour? The story is dark but romantic…can anyone guess why Adam is in Britain? Review please.