Quick note to readers:
--Ok, so I just started on this fanfic site and I'm REALLY confused about adding chapters and basically EVERYTHING about this whole setup. HELP! Someone send me a very long, detailed list of how to work this thing. Really! Help me!
-- Also, this is a long chapter, I know. But I have all of these chapters saved on my computer for updates and such. I've written a lot and I just need to keep adding it. Midterms are comming up so I'm having trouble finding time to update. Please be patient. I'm REALLY sorry. (p.s. passionate makeout scene might be comming up in the next couple chapters....shhhh).

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History of the Kingdom of Aurelli (for all of you who are wondering).

It had started as a piece of land given to Bartholome Blokeshivek. Blokeshivek was a war hero. He had served under a King known as Laurelkane, who originated west of the Baltik Sea. After proving himself worthy, Bartholome was granted a large chunk of land connected to an even larger bit of land now known as Britain. Bartholmoe christened his land "Blokeshivek," and lived peacefully until he reached a ripe old age. Throughout his retirement years, Bartholeme retained his coresspondence with King Laurelkane. At one instant, Laurelkane did not respond to one of Bartholome's letters. Bartholeme became worried for weeks and weeks passed by and Bartholeme recived nothing. A messenger came one day. The messenger brought a single piece of paper. The paper was old and the Laurelkane seal that was once upon it was broken. As soon as the messenger had given the letter to Bartholome, the messenger galloped off. Bartholome returned to his quarters and opened the letter. The parchment had a smaller piece of parchment inside of it. Bartholome read it carefully:

Blokeshivek-
King Laurelkane, may his soul rest in peace, has forfitted his all of his land to the bordering countries around it. We have much reason to believe that this King was keeping a tight corespondence with you and we assumed that you had the right to know what happend. King Laurelkane died and with his death came the forfittion of his land.

Our sincerest appologies,
Advisors of King Laurelkane.

Bartholome stared at this small peice of paper for a long time. Had one of his dearest friends really passed away? Would Laurelkane really just give up all of his land? Bartholome knew that the king would not truly do this out of his own will. Bartholome looked to the larger parchment:

My dearest friend,
I write this letter in case of my death (should it happen sooner that I am expecting it to). I cannot express how much I value your friendship. I just wanted you to know that. The things we have been through, the battles we have seen, it shall all last in my heart forever. But now down to buisiness. In case of my death, it is to be written here that the land I have granted you is yours and your's alone. You do not govern this land. You own it, you rule it. With my death, you shall be my successor. If I loose my land, my country, my life, you shall be the one to carry on the legacy. You are the only one I would trust. My sons? None of them are ready for the responsibilty of a country. Should my country be invaded and my family killed, you would be the last of my family left. King Blokeshivek, the country will be your life as it has and always will be mine.

Your friend,
King Jaehabnas Namerak Laurelkane.

Bartholome rose to his feet, took the two letters and placed them between his linens upon his bed for safe keeping. Bartholome then went to his wife and told her of the news he had recived. His wife took his hand and squeezed it hard. Bartholome looked to her with determination and smiled.

--

As the years raced by, the Blokeshivek empire grew. Bartholome's sons grew strong and conqured all that came upon their land. The land grew only three sizes but the name grew bigger. Countries were acctually afraid of this tiny but powerful country. One of Bartholome's grandsons was unable to produce a male heir. Thus, the kingdom was left to a woman. She married a man of Roman decent and became an Aurelli. The last name of the royal family may have changed but the name of the country did not. The kingdom still kept it's Blokeshivek name- the name that drew fear into the hearts of brave men. The name of a warrior.

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Annabla had her clothing packed in her saddle bags and her hair pulled into a helmet. Her sword with its blood red hilt hung at her side along with a velvet black bag. The bag clanked from within whenver Annabla moved. She mounted Flask, the family's pure white stallion and waved to her father as she galloped past the castle's walls and into the forest.

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-Lancelot-

Lancelot was awoken by the hot sun beating on his face. He rose, feeling the same as the night before, and got fully dressed. Just as he was pulling his boots on, Arthur entered the room.

"Lancelot, you look amazingly better." said Arthur.

"Really? I don't seem to feel any better." replied Lancelot.

"I'm just glad that you are alive. So much has happend that I must tell you about." said Arthur. "But I am afraid that I do not have much time. I came in just to check on you. I have a meeting with the Bishop."

"Do not worry Arthur. I know it all. Michael told me. Go to your meeting. I'll be around the castle."

"Do not venture too far. You may hurt yourself."

"You know me Arthur, I live for pain." Arthur laughed and opend the door to exit.

"Mind that Bors is still sleeping. His lady came to visit last night. Galahad is not to leave his room and Gawain is out helping those hurt. Please do not ware yourself out."

"I'll be find Arthur." With that, Arthur left the room and ran to the room where the round table was kept, his boots clattering on the ground loudly.

Lancelot felt no hunger and could think of nothing to do. His current condition, and the conditions of the other nights limited him from things he used to do. Lancelot then thought of his beloved horse Winter. Lancelot left the castle and went to the barn.

Lancelot found his jet black steed and entered its stall. The horse had already been groomed and it shone like the moon on a cloudless night. Lancelot stroke the horse's neck and remembered his home. He remembered the day that he left his family. His father had told him that this horse would keep him safe and it always did. He remembered his father's words about how horses were fallen warriors. Lancelot's thoughts were broken by the sound of horns. Someone was arriving. But who?

----------

Annabla had changed to women's clothes, fixed her hair, and was riding over the drawbridge of the castle. Her hair hung in beautiful dark brown locks down to her chest and she rode like a man. She dismounted her horse and walked to the entrance of the castle.

"I am Annabla Aurelli, daughter of King Gegorio Aurelli and Queen Mary Aurelli of the Blokeshivek country. I come as a messenger for my father and I wish to speak to Artorious." Annabla proclaimed to the man guarding the door. From the west wall of the castle, Lancelot emerged and he looked to Annabla. He had seen her ride in, like a man, and was intrigued. Many women did not even ride horses let alone ride one leg on each side. The girl he saw was skinny but strong, tall and slim. She was wearing a crimson dress that held her bosom well. Her facial feature were all proportionate except for her eyes. They were slightly large and they were green, like the trees of the forest. Lancelot took her all in. She was beautiful in her own way.

"I am sorry, but Arthur is occupied at the moment. You will have to wait."

"I wait for no one. He will see me now." replied Annabla. Forcefull thought Lancelot. He walked-rather limped to the girl and spoke to the guard.

"I will take the princess to Arthur." Said Lancelot boldly.

"Very well Sir Lancelot."

"Follow me Princess." said Lancelot as he opened the door to let Annabla in. "Princess Annabla, from the neighboring kingdom I presume? Just East of this castle."

"Yes. It did not take me long to get here." Annabla said. She glanced at the man beside her. His features were strong. He was tall and he limped and winced with every step he took. "You are Lancelot."

"Yes I am Lancelot."

"They say you are the nobelest of all of Artorious' knights. That you fight with no thought. I've heard stories of Arthur and his knights. Is there any truth to them?"

"Stories are stories. Believe what you see." Lancelot said. This girl was starting to become annoying. Too many questions, he thought.

"I am seeing that you are hurt. Badon Hill's battle has done this to you. Shouldn't you be resting?" Annabla looked at Lancelot with concern.

"And shouldnt you be doing something ladylike like sewing or something?" Lancelot fired back. He did not like it when someone questioned his strength.

" I hate sewing," was all that Annabla could conjure up.

"What, and you enjoy riding and fighting like a man?" replied Lancelot.

"My mother died when I was young. I never had a real female figure to look too. Except for my maids and teachers." Annabla looked to Lancelot for his response.

"We are here," was all he said. Lancelot opened a large wooden door to reveal a room occupied with a large circular table. "We are all equal under Arthur."

"Yes I can see by the table. Announce me."

"Arthur, this is Princess Annabla, daughter of King Aurelli East of here of the Blokeshivek empire. She has come with a message and wished to speak with you at once," Lancelot announced. "Shes quite forceful," he added. Annabla looked to Lancelot with an angry face.

"Aurelli, yes I know of the family. Come, sit at my table." Annabla sat two chairs from Arthur's left. On Arthur's left hand side, a beautiful woman sat. She smiled at Annabla as if she knew something. Lancelot sat at next to Arthur, at his right hand. Arthur nodded across the table: "This is the Arc Bishop of England. Bishop, this is Princess Annabla of the Aurelli Kingdom."

"Yes, I know of your family. Christians yes? Strong family. I have met your father," said the Bishop with a nod.

"Artorious, I have come with a message from my father. He wishes to congradulate you on your vicotry. He is quite pleased and he has sent his finest stallion as a gift." said Annabla. Lancelot looked to her. Her nose was pointed slightly upwards with dignity.

"That is marvelous. I look forward to meeting your father."

"He looks forward to meeting you Artorious. He wishes to create peace between our growing terriotories. A bind, a friendship perhaps."

"Yes that will do fine. I extend and invataition to you and your father. I am to be wed within the next week and I'd be happy if you would stay and attend. I could send a carrige for your father if need be."

"I thank you for the invitation. I shall stay here until my father arrives. I will send word by messenger to him."

"Very good. Ah, forgive me. I have not introduced you to my future wife, Guinevere."

"Very nice to meet you Guinevere. Of what nation are you?" Annabla said.

"No nation. I am a Woad," said Guinevere proudly.

"A-A Woad? Not to insult you but Arthur you marry no princess?" Said Annabla with disbelief.

"I am in love. It does not matter where you are in society," said Arthur cooly.

"Forgive me Artorious. I did not mean to offend you. I am from a traditional family you see. I haven't seen much of the world yet, different cultures and such. I ask for your pardon."

"Fear not Annabla. I know of your situation. Guinevere will escort you to a dorm where you may reside for the comming days. Should you need anything, you will have a personal maid. Dinner is just after dusk."

"Thankyou Artorious. Your hospitality is greatly appreciated. I will speak with you at dinner." Annabla ended the convorsation and as Guinevere rose, the Bishop and Arthur started conversing again. Lancelot rose and exited the room before the ladies.

----------

"Oh it's perfect," gasped Annabla. The room was fully furnished. It has a large balcony and a golden canopy over the bed. The fireplace was not lit but the room still glowed from the sun outside.

"You will find that this is a busy place during the day." stated Guinevere.

"I am dreadfully sorry if I have offended you. I did not want my words to be so harsh. I have nothing against Woads. Honestly." blurted Annabla.

"I know, for you are of woad blood yes?" Guinevere said while unpacking Annabla's things.

"How..." Annabla began to say.

"Your mother. I knew her. She was a scottish woad with firey red hair. A warrior no doubt. Fierce with the sword. Your hair has no red tint but your face, it matches her's exactly."

"Who told you of this?" questioned Annabla.

"All Woads know of her. She is legend. Like Arthur and his knights." Guinevere smiled at the thought of the Artorian legend as Annabla sank into her bed and stared at the ground. "She died after you were born. Fighting." Annabla said nothing. "I have errands to attend to. As Arthur said, dinner will be served after sundown in the great hall. Sit with me and we shall talk." Guinevere exited the room and closed the door behind her. Annabla sat there. Thinking of her mother and sighed. She stood and walked to the balcony. A warm breeze hit her face as she opened the doors and walked onto the balcony. The view was breathtaking. As she looked around her, she noticed another balcony like hers two window down. This pattern continued across the side of the castle. She looked down and on the ground, she noticed two men talking. One was Lancelot, the other she did not know.

----------

"Lancelot!" said Bors gleefully. He too was limping just as Lancelot was. The two men sat on a bench. "Chap, we're both alive. An you look better than me."

"Really." Lancelot said. "How are your children? I heard that your Lady came a calling last night."

"They look nothing like you Lancelot."

"Wait until they get older Bors. They will take the shape of their father."

"You bastard." said Bors.

"You think your Lady came only to you last night? Why do you think I look so well?" Lancelot smiled. Bors punched Lancelot in the stomach. Lancelot clutched his stomach.

"Ach, Bors."

"You know I had to Lancelot. You're lucky I'm not to my full strength yet."

"Sure Bors. Say, now that we are not indentured. Are you going to return home?"

"Why would I? My family is here. Anyone from the past is dead. I have not home but here."

"So you stay then."

"Yes, for my lady." Bors smiled and asked: " Will you, Lancelot, return to your beloved Baltik home?"

"I will return eventually and search for my family. For now, I will stay until I am fully healed."

"Good, for Gawain is to return home after the wedding. He is going to go find a wife and start a family. It's what he's been wantin all this time."

"I know."

"Will you start a family Lancelot?"

"What right do I have to?"

"We were killing for the greater good. It is not a happy life when you are old and alone. I warn you that."

"I suppose that if I found a woman. The right one, I could. But now, I feel guilt."

"Aye, I feel it as well. Don't let it get to you Lancelot." Bors stood and said: "we should both be getting rest Lancelot. Will you attend dinner tonight.?"

"Yes."

"Jolly good. There will be dancing and drinking. I doubt that either of us will be dancing. It will be a fun time no doubt."

"I do regret not being able to dance. Your lady will be there no doubt."

"Oh stuff it Lancelot." With that, Bors got up and left to retire to his chamber.

----------

Meanwhile, Annabla had left her chamber and had been roaming the halls. She had met Galahad and had just been conversing to Gawain. She was quite smitten with the young knight. He was polite with a gentleman-like misdemeanor. He kissed her hand when he met her and offered her his hand when walking. Annabla found this man much more polite than Lancelot.

Annabla spent the rest of the afternoon bathing and preparing for the dinner. Her new maid- Cecil, was a quiet young lady with coppy blonde hair. Cecil tended to Annabla's every desires without fuss and did not speak at all. Annabla bathed in rosewater and dressed slowly. Just as dusk was hitting, Annabla was ready. Her hair was tied up in a pile of shimmering dark brown hair. She wore a green dress with a green lacy part that went over her corset. She placed the green neclace, the only neclace her mother had left her, around her neck. Annabla's overall ensemble brought out her gorgeous eyes making them seem almost demonlike.

Oh dear. I know not where the great hall is. I must find someone to escort me there Annabla thought. She walked down the hall and a man was walking in front of her. He had curly black hair and he was limping rather than walking. From behind, he looked handsome, clean cut, and ready for a dinner, despite his limping. Dear me he is handsome. This must be one of the knights I haven't met yet. Annabla came up from behind the man and before the man could turn around, Annabla wispered into his ear: "Now, are you a kind knight who can escort me to the great hall. I am terrrrribly lost and I know not where to go." Annabla stepped back and smiled. She had put on her helpless act. This kight would surly ablige to her- a helpless- gorgeous- lady unable to find her way.

"I know not if I am kind but I am sure I can escort you." The man turned around and set his eyes upon the woman behind him.

"YOU!" cried Annabla.

"And you!" said Lancelot with less enthusiasim.

"If I had known it was you I wouldn't have asked for your help. Good day Sir Lancelot." Annabla turned the other way and attempted to storm off when Lancelot grasped her by the elbow.

"The grand hall is this way, not that way" he said as she stopped. "I'll take you there." Annabla stopped to stare at Lancelot. His hand still firmly grasped her arm and she could feel her body tingle as she looked at him. He was extraordinaraly handsome. His dark eyes looked at hers as she looked him up and down. He was wearing all black with some light armor. His sword hung at his side and when she looked back into Lancelot's eyes he released her arm. He turned around and with a sigh he offered her his arm. She took it and they walked.

"Are you sure you know where you are going Sir Lancelot?" Annabla said. Lancelot did not answer right away. He looked to Annabla. She was radiant tonight. He looked to her neclace laid upon her bare skin then trailed his eyes to her cleavage. Then downwards to admire her dress. He looked to her beautiful face and sighed once more. Stuck up but beautiful." he thought.

"Of course I know where I am going. I've been here many times." Lancelot finally answered. Annabla's fingers were grasping Lanceot's elbow. She loosend her grip and found herself caressing his arm. Only a little bit though. Enough she thought, for her too feel but him to not.

"You are Artorious' confidant yes?"

"His best friend."

"I see," she said. After traveling down many halls and stairs, the two reached the great hall. "I'm afraid that I may not be able to find my way around this castle. It is very... confusing."

"It can be. You will get used to it. Now if you excuse me, I must take my place with the other knights." Annabla dropped her hand, and Lancelot walked to the right side of the enormously large dining table. He sat a chair away from the head's right hand next to Galahad. The Bishop would be dining at Arthur's right hand side this time. Annabla searched the crowded room for Guinevere and found her sitting at the head's left side. Guinevere noticed Annabla and called her over to sit next to her. Across from Lancelot.

"Have you met our remaining knights? This is Sir Lancelot, Sir Galahad, Sir Gawain, and Sir Bors," said Guinevere.

"I have met Sir Lancelot, Sir Galahad, and Sir Gawain. I haven't had the pleasure of meeting Sir Bors however." said Annabla.

"The pleasure is all mine miss." said Bors in a husky voice. He reached across the table, tool Annabla's hand and kissed it. Annabla blushed and when her hand was released.

"It is nice to see you again Sir Gawain." said Annabla boldly.

"Yes, it is nice to see you. You look ravishing tonight might I add." Gawain spoke on the quiet side.

"Why thankyou dear knight." Annabla said. Bors and Galahad whooped as if to make fun of Gawain.

"Find yourself a girl eh?" said Bors between his laughter and his snorts. Annabla simply blushed. She glanced at Lancelot across the table. He was sitting, staring at Bors and Galahad laughing but he himself was not laughing or making any comments.

"Sir Lancelot, I can't say that it is a pleasure to see YOU again." Annabla said cooly as th rest of the nights were conversing about something. Guinevere smiled and excused herself to go find Arthur.

"I'm glad you have such a good impression of me." Lancelot said.

"You've been rather rude to me since I've met you."

"It's in his nature lass." said Galahad. "Don't be offended by broody old Lancelot milady, he's rude to everyone," he said as he playfully punched Lancelot's arm. Lancelot looked up into Annabla's eyes and cracked a tiny smile.

"Presenting, Artorious and Guinevere. Also, the Arch Bishop of Rome." The guard announced. Arthur and Guinevere entered the room hand in hand followed by the Bishop.

"Dinner," said Arthur."Is served." With that, the maids and cooks came in with platters of food and laid them upon the table. Arthur took his seat along with Guinevere and the Bishop. As soon as they sat down, everyone began to eat. The clatter of food on plates and talking filled the room. Guinevere turned to Annabla and spoke.

"How are you liking our home?"

"I like it very much thankyou." said Annabla politley.

"Have you sent word to your father?"

"Yes. My letter will get there within a day and I will recive a letter back a day or so later."

"Excellent. How are the knights treating you? With the exception of Lancelot of course."

"They are all very kind. I can see why Artorious would have them as his knights."

"Yes, they are all good men. They have proved their worth a hundred times fold in battle. Especially Lancelot. I owe my life to him."

"Really?" Annabla questioned.

"Well yes. He stopped a man from beheading me. At badon hill."

"Wow. I didn't know."

"Yes of course. Get to know him. His is not as cold as he seems," said Guinevere.

"Perhaps," replied Annabla.