Disclaimer: I don't own King Arthur (Duh). I do, however, own this story line. It is not stolen, and the original characters (most notably Helena and Livia) are of my own creation. The events depicted within this story are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to any person living or dead is merely coincidental.
Author's Note: I know, I know. It's been a while since I've put up a story, but I actually plan on finishing this one. Well, that is, if I get reviews! This first chapter does include Arthur and several of his knights, but it is entirely in the POV of an OC. Please leave a review and tell me what you think!
3 Charlotte
Chapter One
It wasn't until Hadrian's wall was only a few miles away and clear in their sight that Helena became aware of the fact that she couldn't feel anything below her waist, though whether it was from the cold or the blood loss, she wasn't certain. She had been riding for hours and hours without rest, still managing to stay upright only by the grace of God, and her stubborn will not to fall off of the large black stallion she rode upon. Next to her, her twin sister Livia was drifting off in her saddle, a sight that worried Helena immensely, forcing her to poke her sister awake, lest she fall off of the saddle.
Helena winced when she drew out her arm to poke her sister awake, feeling more flesh tear at her wound. On the left side of her stomach, a broken-off arrow shaft protruded ominously from her flesh, blood dripping off of its tip at intervals. The only doctoring her wound had received so far was the wrapping of a bed sheet around it to catch the blood and hopefully stave it off a bit, though she couldn't tie it tightly for fear of causing more damage upon herself than was already inflicted. The pain was bad, but it was bearable enough, and if Helena ever doubted herself, she just needed to remember that if she didn't stay alive, there wouldn't be anyone to watch after Livia, and the idea was frightening enough for her to wake up a little as she felt herself drifting off. Attempting to ignore the light-headed dizziness that had overcome her, Helena kept her sharp eyes trained on the woods that they traveled through. It had not been a good idea to travel through Woad territory the way they were, but there was no more a direct path to Hadrian's Wall and Artorius' fortress there, and Helena intended to get herself and Livia to safety as soon as possible.
Once again, she could spot Livia drifting off in her saddle, and Helena whistled loudly, awakening her sister once again. The two were exhausted, yes, but they couldn't afford to stop and rest. Helena wasn't sure if she'd be able to get up again if she were to lie down, and the idea that her dear sister would be all alone in a strange world was enough to keep her fighting the urge to lay down and die. For the past few nights, even before she had been shot with that bloody arrow, Helena had remained sleepless, choosing instead to keep a constant watch over the campsite they had made, or just unable to sleep at all no matter how tired she was. Livia, on the other hand, had been plagued with violent nightmares. Ones that made her screams ring loudly through the woods as she struggled to fight off her insistent and invisible attackers. When Helena wasn't keeping watch, she was comforting her weeping twin, speaking to her in the hushed tone their mother often used to keep them calm.
"I'm tired, Helena. Can't we stop for a little while to rest?" Livia's voice was strained, and Helena knew that her sister's request was not her normal complaint that could be taken lightly and handled loosely. No, Livia truly was about to fall out of the saddle. However, Helena couldn't risk stopping. Especially not in this area, and while they were so close to Hadrian's wall.
"Why don't you come climb up behind me and sleep? I'll take care of your horse," Helena offered, slowing enough for her sister to almost fall out of her horse's saddle and into Helena's. Livia tiredly rested her head on her sister's back, and Helena fought to ignore the wave of pain sent through her body when her twin wrapped her arms around Helena's waist. She couldn't show weakness, not when they were being watched so closely, which they certainly were. Helena could almost feel the Woads watching them as they trotted through the forest.
Helena took a hold of the dapple mare's reigns and clucked the horses into a faster pace, hoping to clear the woods and get into the field separating them from Hadrian's wall very quickly. The longer they staid in the area, the more likely they would be attacked by the natives, and Helena wasn't up for a battle at the moment. She was curious as to why they hadn't been attacked yet, but she supposed there was a chance that the Woads didn't see them as a threat and were letting them pass without peril, though she had never heard of such a thing happening before. If they knew who Livia was... well Helena was fairly certain that neither of them would still be alive at the moment if the Woads had the slightest inkling of what was passing through their homelands.
The steady beat of the horse beneath her was lulling Helena into a slight stupor that she fought off with great difficulty. She looked down at her wound only to find her tunic stained with fresh blood that the bedding had failed to absorb. She was starting to get the feeling that perhaps she wasn't going to be alive for very much longer. Judging by the tingling sensations running up and down her numb legs, her body was slowly giving out. Helena could only hope that she got Livia to the wall before her body finally gave up its battle and sent her back to the realm of heaven. If she failed Livia, Helena was certain that she would be sent to hell instead, even if she was to survive.
Spurred on by the fear of her own demise before reaching the wall, Helena clucked the horses into a gallop, heedless of the difficult terrain. She was no master horseman, that was for certain, but she knew how to get them going. She was just lucky enough to have a pair of horses that weren't stupid and could feel the tension in the air around them. They dodged trees and jumped over fallen stumps with ease, something she appreciated greatly as she felt the blood loss begin to affect her mind, making it wander easily. She wasn't in the right state to go through a difficult trail.
"Only a little farther," she reassured herself, and almost let out a whoop of joy when the horses broke the tree line, and she found herself in the field in front of Hadrian's wall. She raced the horses even faster, their feet pounding gracefully on the ground. They passed a large tree, and finally Helena found herself at the large gate that was between her and freedom.
"Who goes there?" called a guard from atop the wall, a man in full armor, who looked down at her menacingly. Trying to look as pleasant and innocent as possible while hugging her torso with one arm in order to hide the bloodstain expanding on her shirt, Helena looked up at him to answer.
"My sister and I request permission to enter. We need a place to stay and some medical care," she called back up to him. "Tales of the great Arthur and his Sarmatian knights reach even as far as we live. We are praying their generosity is as vast as the stories say, or we may well die right outside your gate, sir."
The guard considered her for a second before turning to someone unseen upon the wall and nodding to them. Before Helena could actually become nervous about it all, the gate began to open up. Helena let out a barely audible sigh and felt her sister stir behind her. How strange that her yelling up to the guard had done nothing to awaken Livia, but the slightest of sighs immediately roused her.
"Are we here already?" her voice was groggy, but Livia was unmistakably awake and looking about them with wide eyes.
"Yes, we're here," Helena replied, smiling slightly. "I suppose Arthur and his men are as good as everyone makes them sound, thank God. I was worried for a moment."
Once the gate had opened enough, Helena took the two horses through the doorway, holding their reigns with her left hand while her right arm still rested across her stomach, hiding the wound on her side. If worse came to worse, they could send for a healer that they could maybe afford with the small purse they carried. Otherwise, Helena was fine to take care of herself, at least she hoped she was.
As they rode in, Helena and Livia were immediately greeted by three men on horses, all of which were well-armed. Livia's surprised stir behind Helena meant that something strange had assaulted her strange twin's senses about the men, and Helena wished she could see her sister's eyes to get an idea of what she had seen. The visions had started when they were only three years old, and since then Helena had been the one always taking care of her twin, younger than she by only two minutes but a great deal weaker due to their different bringing up. While their father had Helena out working in the fields and doing heavy lifting, their mother had Livia inside, teaching her the ancient art of 'reading'. Yes, they were both literate, but it was a different sort of reading that Livia could do and that Helena had never been gifted with. It was not something that Helena was unhappy about. She knew how horribly the visions taxed her sister's psyche, could see it every time their eyes met. She could sense it when her sister turned away with bright eyes upon meeting a new person, trying to hide the effects from her twin. But Livia had always know she couldn't hid anything from Helena, and as much as she didn't want to admit to her weakness, very much appreciated her sister's invaluable help.
"Welcome to southern Briton," greeted the man seated on the horse in the center, one with piercing green eyes and dark hair. Judging by his roman armor and the way that his men looked to him, Helena guessed he was the leader of the trio, but it wasn't until she looked at the men alongside him that she realized who he truly was.
To the man's right was a man with a head full of curly dark hair and wickedly dark eyes that immediately took in every inch of the incredibly uncomfortable Helena. He wore two swords at his back, and road with a deft grace that did not go unnoticed by the young woman.
To the man's left was another man, whose brown hair was braided in random places, and hung in his face, obscuring Helena's view of him. However she could see the tattoos that adorned his cheeks, and Helena knew he had to be a Sarmatian. There wasn't a single person in Briton or Rome who would adorn themselves as such that wasn't a Woad. It was his eyes that held her for a moment, a piercing darkness that seemed to absorb her, taking in every inch and then delving even deeper, just in one glance.
"Thank you for granting us entrance," she replied to the leader, who could only by Arthur judging by the Sarmatians that followed him so closely. "I am Helena, this is my sister Livia."
At this, Livia poked her head out from where she had been fairly hiding behind her sister, and the men caught sight of her. Helena knew exactly what they saw, for she saw the same thing every time she looked in the mirror. A head full of long blonde hair that ranged from shades the color of platinum to strands the color of the darkest ash. Pale skin brightened from exertion and the ride, and grey-blue eyes that observed everything and said nothing in return. There wasn't an inch upon Helena's body that wasn't the exact same upon Livia's. However, there wasn't a single doubt in Helena's mind that at the moment, she wasn't looking her very best. She was steadily becoming more and more aware of the sleeve of her tunic being soaked with blood where it lay over her wound and warming the flesh beneath. She needed a healer, and soon.
"I am Arthur, these are my men, Lancelot," first he gestured to the man on his right, with the curly hair. "And Tristan," and then to the man with the braided hair and extremely piercing eyes. "Come to my fortress, I will have someone see to your needs."
"Thank you," she replied in earnest.
Livia dismounted from behind her and took up her mare once more, her nap sustaining her well enough to ride to the fortress on her own. Helena very much suspected that her sister's movement was due to pride more than awareness. To be seen riding on the back of her sister's horse would probably be mortifying to Livia. It was her sister's pride that most entertained Helena about her. She would often do rather ridiculous things in order to hold her pride intact, and Helena would watch from a distance and shake with laughter until she had to go clean up after her sister's newest incident.
"You are a Roman?" addressed the one called Lancelot, who had flanked her to her left while Livia was to her right. For a moment, Helena considered her answer before deciding that telling him the truth was probably the best thing to do. If she started telling lies, she'd end up telling too many and would be unable to keep her story straight enough to be plausible.
"Our mother was a Sarmation, actually. But our father was a Roman, yes," she replied. "Before Livia and I were born he was a soldier for the army, but instead he chose to move to northern Briton and watch over a colony."
"And your mother? She lived with you?" he seemed genuinely interested, and Helena couldn't help but wonder how much of Sarmatia he actually remembered. When she was younger she had visited her mother's homelands once, and her memories were still vivid of the beautiful place.
"Yes. She was his wife," she replied, taking pleasure in the small shock of surprise that ran across his face. She didn't blame him. Most of the time, when Sarmatian women were impregnated by Roman soldiers, they would be forced to give up their bastard children or serve as the man's concubine. That her father had married her mother was an admirable and very strange thing.
"Oh, Helena, look!" exclaimed Livia, pointing forward, and Helena diverted her attentions from Lancelot to the stone fortress that was materializing in the distance. She had never before seen such a grand structure in her life, and spent a moment staring open mouthed at the tall walls surrounding the city, crowned by Roman soldiers in uniform.
"This is my home," introduced Arthur, gesturing to the fortress ahead of them. "You and your sister are welcome to stay here as long as you wish, for as long as you are within the walls of my home, you are guaranteed safety."
Helena couldn't help but give a weak smile. It would have been the wide, brilliant smile that shone on her sister's face at Arthur's words if she wasn't suddenly much more aware of the sharp pulling at her side and the rushes of warm blood soaking through the sleeve of her tunic. Her wound would be exposed to the knights at any moment and there wasn't any doubt in her mind that they would notice. These men weren't famous for being unperceptive.
"There is something wrong," the man called Tristan stated, the first words she had heard him say since she met him.
At first, her eyes scanned the protective barrier for some sign of trouble, but she saw none. Finally, when she turned to Tristan, mouth open to ask what he meant, she realized he was looking at her when he said it, his eyes fixated quite pointedly upon her right arm still hugging her torso closely. She looked down, expecting to see that the wide sleeves of her tunic had not concealed the blossoming bloodstains upon her shirt, but it wasn't visible unless she lifted her arm slightly, where it was beginning to stick to the fabric from the sticky blood.
"Your side, why do you hold it like that?" Lancelot seemed to have caught on to Tristan's stare, and Helena felt the slightest of panics begin to rise within her as Arthur turned in his saddle to face her as he still rode forward. Livia was looking at her as well with a rather obvious look of horror upon her face. More than ever, Helena wished she could have taught her sister to school her features better.
"Oh, I got hurt in our travels. It's nothing serious, I assure you. I planned on visiting with the healer the moment we entered the fortress," Helena replied quickly, and realized a moment later it was too quickly to be brushed off lightly. There was no doubt in her mind that her ruse had been revealed. Would the men kick them out, believing her to be a threat because of the people hunting her sister? Or would they believe her if she said that it was just from a Woad that had attacked them?
"Is that so? Show me then, I know a few things of doctoring," Arthur had placed himself between Helena and Livia and was looking at her with a serious expression on his handsome face.
For a moment, Helena hesitated, but realizing that there was no point in it, she removed her right arm from around her waist to reveal the large bloodstain that it had been covering. She heard Lancelot mutter a loud curse, and Arthur had an unreadable expression on his face that she very much suspected was one of shock. Tristan looked on impassively. Livia wasn't looking at all, her eyes fixated on the ground in front of her horse. Helena knew her sister didn't react well to blood and other such things, and would get even woozier if presented with the blood of her kin. When they were children, whenever Helena managed to hurt herself, it would be Livia who cried, and not her.
"What happened to you?" Arthur managed to choke out.
"I was caught by a Woad's arrow a day ago. We don't have the medication to care for it, and I didn't want to pull out the arrow. I figured the bleeding would be much worse if I did so," she replied. "It's really not a problem. I can barely feel it."
"That's not a good thing," contributed Tristan.
"We must get her to Dagonet, and quickly," Arthur commanded. "Tristan, take her onto your horse and ride ahead of us."
"But what of Livia?" Helena immediately protested. "I cannot leave my sister."
"We will take care of her. You need to see a doctor," Lancelot replied, and Helena felt Tristan lift her easily out of her saddle before placing her upon the horse in front of him with ease. It was as if she weighed nothing, and considering that Helena hadn't eaten in days, sacrificing her share of the food to her sister instead (though Livia wasn't aware of the fact), she wouldn't be much surprised.
"But Livia..." she protested again, but her twin cut her off quickly.
"I'll be fine, Helena," she said sharply. "Go see to yourself."
Without warning, Tristan's horse set off at a hard gallop, though its rider hadn't made any movements that suggested he had commanded it to do so. Helena found herself unwillingly clinging to him to keep from being thrown from her precarious position upon the saddle. One of his arms wrapped around her shoulders to keep her balanced while the other held the reigns to direct the horse, and Helena felt safe enough to stop panicking. But it was then that she truly began to feel the wear and tear her body had gone through over the past few weeks. It had been so long since she had properly slept, or eaten, or been able to bathe in something that wasn't a half frozen over stream. Sheer exhaustion accompanied by blood loss made her eyelids feel rather heavy, and it wasn't until she had actually done it that Helena realized she had fallen asleep.