Disclaimer: I still don't own King Arthur. Don't sue.
Author's Note:I forgot to do one of these on the last chapter, but thanks to everyone who reviewed! You guys make my day! Anyway, this chapter has quite a bit in it, a little fluffiness, some humor, some fighting, and one of my favorite scenes that I've ever written. You guys will know it when you see it.
love you guys- Charlotte
Chapter Seven
Helena had quickly recovered from her head injury, and was up and about the very next day though she was plagued with a horrible head ache and sudden bouts of dizziness that kept her from being very useful at all. It was noon, and Livia had already awakened with the worst hang-over in history, but Helena hadn't bothered to tell her twin what happened yet. She was afraid that the memories were too fresh in her mind and that Livia would become ill or over-exert herself with worry. Helena had only bothered to make her a cup of willow bark tea for the headache and some green tea for her sister's nausea caused by both drinking both the alcohol and the willow bark tea before she left her twin to her own devices and decided to spend the day outside.
Dressed in a simple green dress, she wandered inside of the fortress, occasionally ducking into the shadows whenever she spotted a Roman guard, and generally enjoying the warm sun as it beat upon her face. Out of sheer boredom, she ended up helping Vanora clean up the tavern and get ready for the men to come during the night while they were off-duty, finding herself enjoying the woman's company. For a while she had been a little nervous about Vanora, thinking her to be as loud and callous as her husband, but while she held the youngest of the children while Vanora cleaned mugs and chatted with her, Helena realized that the woman was as genial as anyone else.
"Bors'll marry me some day, I suspect. He'd be sooner if I just put his balls in a vise, though," okay, perhaps Vanora was a little callous, but she pulled it off in such a way that it wasn't so much offensive as it was funny.
"He seems a very nice man," Helena agreed. "And I'm sure he loves you, I don't think he'd have so many children with you otherwise."
"Oh, you are an innocent thing yet," Vanora said with a smile, pinching her cheek. "Men aren't afraid to father bastard children, dearie. In fact, many of them take pride in the vast numbers of children. I suppose it's some sign of virility."
"Really? But having children is such a big step. I thought it would be as important to men as it is to women," Helena said with surprise, adjusting her grip on the baby as it started squirming about in her arms. Vanora shrugged, then took the baby from Helena.
"I think he's hungry. Will you feed the children for me? They're around here somewhere, I've already got their lunch together, you just need to round them up and give them their dishes," Vanora said. Helena nodded and Vanora disappeared elsewhere to breast feed the baby.
It took a half-hour to get together the dozen children of Bors' family and even longer to get them settled in, so Helena was quite glad when she realized that the lunch that Vanora had prepared for them was meant to be served cool rather than warm, a good insight on the other woman's part. While the children sat around a long table at the tavern and ate, Helena sat at another, watching over them and sipping a cup of tea to help with the dreadful headache that she had. After several fights at the table during which Helena had to detach number six from number three, the lunch was finally finished and she sent the children on her way while she began the long and arduous process of cleaning up after them, not wanting to make Vanora do all of the work. However, she was interrupted with picking up bits of bread, meat and cheese that the children had either been flinging at one another or attempting to eat, when someone tapped her on the shoulder.
Helena let out a little shriek of surprise and would've fallen over if a strong hand hadn't fixed around her upper arm and held her upright. She whipped around, about to fight her attacker when she met a pair of twinkling blue eyes attached to a body clothed in the armor of a Roman guardsmen. For a moment she wasn't sure whether or not she was about to be attacked, when she remembered that this man was Alaric, who had saved her.
"I've been looking for you, I though I would check in and see how you are feeling today, milady," he said in a rather quiet voice as if he wanted to keep the conversation private. It didn't take long for her to realize why. Several feet away were several other guards who were glaring daggers at both of them, and she supposed that Alaric was a little concerned that they would give them some trouble. It wasn't like they were trying to hide the fact that they despised the two.
"Oh, I'm quite fine, thank you. The knock to the head was a bit rough, but I'm feeling much better otherwise," she replied. "I never got a chance to thank you so, uh... thank you."
He shook her proffered hand with a slight smile and nodded to her.
"There's no need to thank me. I'm just sorry I didn't get there sooner, milady," he replied. "I'm glad that you're well."
"Thank you, but please call me Helena. The 'milady' thing hardly suits me, though I'm sure you could charm my sister with it for quite a while," she informed him, and was happy to see that he laughed.
"Yes, I've had the pleasure of having several conversations with Livia, she's quite a lively one. Did you know she's got quite a gift? The other day she warned me that I better keep my feet, and right after I left, I tripped over a wandering goose."
"Oh, it was probably a practical joke," Helena said, mentally cursing her sister's inability to keep her abilities to herself rather than showing off to any handsome young man she could find. "Livia does so love to laugh."
"Is that something you both share, or are you the somber twin?" he asked her.
"I hardly know," she replied truthfully and resumed cleaning up after the children. "I suppose I'm somewhere in between somber and carefree."
"That's a wonderful way to be," Alaric replied. "And your devotion to your sister is incredibly admirable. I've heard rumors of some of the things that you've done for her, and I have to say, I've never heard of such love for one's sibling. Personally, I couldn't wait to go off to be a guard and leave my sisters back home."
"It's hard not to love Livia," Helena replied. "I've known her all my life, and I'm still not tired of her."
Alaric smiled at this and glancing back at the guards glaring at them, took Helena's hand and kissed the knuckles lightly, which surprised her greatly. Wondering if perhaps she should run away now, or wait to see what was going to happen next, Helena was stuck somewhere in the la la land of 'fight or flight', and almost missed Alaric's words.
"I must be going now, Helena, but I would very much like to see you again. Would you allow me to?" he asked. Helena wasn't sure if she liked his forwardness so much, but he did save her and she didn't want to be ungrateful, so instead nodded her approval, watching as he walked away in a slight daze.
"Oh, who was that dear?" Vanora asked, coming out from the back, holding the baby and smiling as she watched Alaric walk away. "Have you found yourself someone?"
"Oh goodness no, he and I just know each other from several unfortunate incidents," Helena replied. "I hardly even know him."
"Well you ought to get to know him, he's certainly a pretty thing," Vanora commented. "Not as pretty as some of the knights, but pretty nonetheless."
"I hardly know him," Helena replied in shock. "I wouldn't even consider him in such a way!"
Vanora laughed at her, handing Helena the baby again, who was rapidly falling asleep now that it had a full stomach. Meanwhile, the older woman set to finishing cleaning up, finishing much more quickly than Helena would have, a well-learned trait from motherhood.
"Perhaps there is someone else you would rather have?" Vanora suggested, hiding the all-knowing grin upon her face. "Perhaps Lancelot? Or maybe Tristan?"
"You talk too much, Vanora," Helena grumbled, a frown on her face. "Change the subject, you're making me fairly uncomfortable."
"Ah, the awkwardness of youth, how precious," came Bors' loud voice from behind Helena, making her jump and almost lose her grip on the sleeping baby. He took the little bundle from her, cradling it in his huge arms lovingly and giving it a scratchy kiss on the forehead. "I see you've taken to my Vanora, perhaps you'll be willing to sit with the children for us while we..."
"If you don't finish that sentence, I'll consider it," Helena interrupted him quickly. "I'm sure Livia would love to play with the children for a while."
"Oh yes, I like children," came a soft voice from behind her, and Helena looked around to see her twin standing behind her, dressed in another one of her fine gowns. Her hair was wound upon her head and covered in a lace veil that made Helena mentally shake her head. Some days, Livia could be so impractical. "Hello Helena, I was hoping we could go on a walk, since I'm feeling better now."
"Of course. You don't mind, do you Vanora?" Helena asked the tavern mistress, who shooed her off to spend quality time with her sister. That morning, Helena had removed the bandage from around her head and she was more than grateful that she had done so now that her sister was sober enough to be able to notice it if it was there. "So what did you want to speak with me about, Livia?"
"How did you know I wanted to speak with you about something?" Livia asked the way she always did when Helena predicted exactly what she wanted or what was bothering her. Her twin was too blind to realize that Helena could pinpoint nearly every emotion she was feeling at the moment just by looking at her, and had more than once accused Helena of being a reader.
"Well, you wouldn't want to come see me unless it was something important, seeing as you and I have been seeing each other every day nonstop for several years now," she replied, watching with amusement as Galahad stared at Livia when they passed him.
"You do know me so well, Helena," Livia replied. "I... I wanted to know why you didn't tell me what happened last night. Did you know that Tristan came into my room this morning and told me everything, right after you brought me that horrid tea? Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to bother you with it Livia. This is the safest place that we've ever been since mother and father were killed, and I don't want to ruin it for you just because some drunken guard attacked me. I'm not even that badly hurt," Helena reasoned, and was surprised when her sister maintained the look of irritation on her face.
"I know that you're trying to take care of me, but this is just ridiculous Helena. You could've been killed when that arrow got you, and you didn't tell me a thing about it until the knights found out. And now you're doing it again, trying to protect me when you get yourself hurt. I may be weak, Helena, but I'm not completely useless," Livia's voice was harsh and irritated, losing the pleading that it had earlier. She was truly angry with Helena, who understood why but wasn't about to condone her sister's anger.
"I know that, Livia. But you've had a hard time of it with the nightmares and the visions," Helena replied. "I just want to keep at least a little bit of the evil away from you, at least the bit that I can actually fight off. If it means keeping the truth from you, then so be it."
"You are so self-righteous. Do you think you're some kind of hero, Helena?" Livia's voice was unexpectedly venomous, and Helena took a step back as if she had been physically struck. "You think that I'm not trying to protect you from something. Helena... if you knew what I've dreamed, you would never be able to look me in the eye again. And you think that you can go and keep things in the physical world a secret from me just because I keep things in the supernatural world a secret from you. I bet it makes you feel important."
"I'm just protecting you, you stupid git!" Helena finally burst out, watching as her sister blinked in shock. "You think I wanted to be burnt with hot irons for you, sister? You think you're even worth that? I keep telling people what a wonderful person you are, and how happy I am to be your sister, but if I knew what I would have to bear for you, I would've let them take you in the beginning. And do you want to know why? Because you are the most ungrateful wench I've ever met! I set aside my entire bloody life to protect you! I could've been married back home, I could have had children. God knows they weren't after me! But I set aside my entire future because you needed me. And do you know what you give me in return? Nothing. Bloody nothing. I resist the greatest of pains because I'm sure that at some point you'll actually appreciate it, maybe even thank me, but instead I bear it all silently and watch as you ignore what's right bloody in front of you! For a bloody reader, you're not very intuitive!"
"What in the hell are you talking about?" Livia's voice was shaking, though whether it was from anger or fear, Helena wasn't sure.
"Torture and rape, Livia. That's what happened when we were captured. Torture and rape. There, I've stopped keeping it a secret from you. Now you can live with it too," and with that, Helena walked off, feeling both guilty and extremely relieved.
It was about two in the afternoon when Tristan decided to head out to the training field and practice with his bow and arrow for a while, his hawk soaring above him somewhere, probably looking for food while she followed her master. For some reason, the animal was the only thing he could ever claim a complete attachment to. While he was loyal to Arthur and the other knights, and thought of them as brothers, he knew they would never understand him quite as well as his hawk did, though he wasn't quite sure why he believed it that way. She seemed to find something in the training field as she began circling, and Tristan headed over, surprised to see there was already someone there, shooting arrows rapid fire into the target. He was even more surprised when he realized it was Helena.
"I'm not so sure you should be handling a bow and arrow in your state," he said, creeping up behind her. She jumped slightly, letting lose her arrow, which hit the target regardless. Helena turned to look at him, and he could see a bit of annoyance flash through her eyes before she calmed again. Apparently, she was having a bad day. He could tell by the hard grip she had on her bow, the way her knuckles were turning white.
"My injuries are not that horrible, Tristan. I think I can manage a bow and arrow," she replied, picking another arrow off of the ground and stringing it in the bow expertly. "Besides, this is a good way to spend my time. I've fallen out of practice and need to make sure that my skills don't get too shoddy."
"I didn't mean your injuries, I meant with how upset you are with your sister," he replied, standing next to her and stringing his own bow. Helena hit the bull's-eye before turning to him with confusion written on her face.
"How did you know?" she asked, her voice irritated, though not at him. She picked up yet another arrow.
"I don't think there is someone who doesn't. You both were yelling quite loudly in a crowded space, and we've got nothing to do but work and gossip around here," he replied, and was surprised when Helena actually laughed. "What's so funny?"
"I was just picturing you knights all sitting in sewing circle, gossiping like old ladies," she replied with a smirk, letting another arrow fly in a graceful arc, meeting its mark perfectly. "I imagine that I'll have quite a bit of apologizing to do. Livia's such a favorite around here, I'm surprised I don't have an army marching after me at this very moment."
"Actually, most everyone has taken your side," Tristan replied, carefully aiming and hitting the target at the exact spot Helena's arrow had hit, splitting it in two. She looked impressed, but didn't comment on it, stringing another arrow but not firing it.
"Why my side? I'm taciturn and all sorts of unladylike," she replied with a frown. "Perhaps they mistook me for her? People do seem to do that quite often. The other day, Galahad started propositioning me until he realized that I wasn't Livia. I've never seen a man turn that particular shade of red before."
"No, it's well known that you have suffered greatly through the trials. They pity you as they pity the horse with the cruel master who uses a whip rather than giving commands," Tristan replied and watched as she fired the arrow again, splitting one of his arrows in two. "You're quite good."
"Thank you, I've had a lot of practice," she replied, "but a bow and arrow is only useful from a distance. Up close, it's too difficult to fire."
"Do you know how to use a sword?"
"I'm pretty sure I know which end to hold," she replied with a slight smile. "But other than that, no. My father found no need to teach me sword-fighting, and the bow and arrow practice was meant for hunting with the scout."
"I remember you mentioning him," Tristan commented, stringing another arrow and firing again. "What was he like?"
"His name was Matthias. He was probably the most graceful and quiet man I've ever met in my life, more than you and Dagonet combined. He taught me almost everything I know," she said with a blissful smile on her face as she reminisced about better times. "I met him when he was only a teenager, a Sarmatian like yourself sent over to work for my father. I was probably four or five years old, and I used to follow him everywhere. It drove him completely crazy, but he started taking a liking to me after a while and taught me the art of scouting and the ability to read someone's face. He was like the big brother I never had."
"What happened to him?" Tristan had stopped shooting arrows to listen to her, but began again once she stopped speaking. It was strange to him that she could hold his attention well enough to make him stop training. Helena was probably the only person who could hold claim to that ability.
"Right now, I imagine that he must be on his way back to Sarmatia. His fifteen years was completed recently, and I'm sure that my cousin had no choice but to let him leave," she replied. "I'm happy for him. He used to tell me stories about his home when we got stranded in the woods overnight. He loved Sarmatia more than anything, and was hoping to track down his family and resume living with his tribe. I hope he finds them."
"It's not always easy," Tristan told her. "Many of the tribes are nomadic. The likelihood of being able to find them is very low, as is the likelihood that any of them are still alive. The Sarmatians and the Romans may have a kind of treaty, but that doesn't stop Rome from mindlessly slaughtering hundreds and hundreds of Sarmatians every year just for the hell of it. Entire tribes have been wiped out by their blood-lust."
"Another reason why I'm glad I'm not fully Roman," she replied. "I only vaguely remember Sarmatia, but I would like to go back there some day. I remember it being beautiful, much brighter than it is here in Briton. With wide, open fields of long grass and a sky so blue it hurt your eyes just to look at it."
"You've been there before?" Tristan was surprised by this. He knew she was half Sarmatian but he had assumed that she spent her entire life living in the town her father manned.
"Of course. My mother took Livia and I there for a trip when we were seven or so. We managed to find the tribe she had lived with, and stayed with them for several weeks before we returned home," she said. "The women adored Livia, I think they made her more spoiled than she already was, the way they babied her."
"And yourself?"
"I was dubbed the 'useless twin' and allowed to roam. I was happy to do that, mind you. There are plenty of beautiful things to see in Sarmatia."
Helena reached down to grab another arrow and saw that she was out. Seeing it as well, Tristan thought for a moment before speaking.
"Come, I'll escort you back to the fortress," he offered, and was surprised when Helena linked his arm with hers, picking up her bow with her other hand. Half way to the fortress, however, she stopped walking, planting her feet firmly on the ground. "What?"
"I just remembered that I don't want to go back," she replied in an almost childishly frightened tone.
"Why not?" Tristan asked, pulling on her arm and admiring her stubbornness when she didn't budge an inch.
"Because now everyone knows what happened and they'll all be saying that they're 'sorry' for what happened to me, and I'm going to have to look Livia in the face again after I've yelled at her for the first time in my life, and I don't think I can do it," she said, speaking so quickly that all of the words combined until it was just one massive word. Tristan couldn't help but laugh at her, something he hadn't done in a long time. She looked at him with an arched eyebrow. "What are you laughing at?"
"You, mostly," he replied, an unusual smile on his face. "You're the unbeatable Helena, who could probably take a sword to the gut but manage to tie her sister's shoes for her in the meantime, and you're afraid of some little confrontation? Half of this is going to be completely forgotten about by the time Lancelot gets into another argument with his wenches when they get angry over his non-monogamous ways. As for your sister... well, she could use a good yell or two every once in a while. She's just lucky you aren't violent. From what I heard, people thought you were going to punch her."
"I would never punch my sister!" Helena replied in shock, then sobered. "I mean, I'd think about it, and maybe daydream... but I'd never actually go through with it. I think."
"See, that's exactly what I wanted to hear from you for all this time," Tristan replied, taking her arm. "You've finally admitted that you don't like taking care of your sister all the time, and quite possibly don't like her as a person. That's all I wanted."
"You are a very simple man, Tristan," she replied after a moment, and began walking again. "If only we could get rid of that Cardinal I think all of my problems would be gone for the time being."
"Well, that could be any time now," Tristan replied. "Arthur was only to receive some updated orders from Rome and send the Cardinal back with news of the situation in Briton. He should be leaving any day now."
"I hope so," Helena replied, leaning her head on his shoulder with a yawn. "If that man attempts to get me into his bed one more time, I think I may have to remove a few vital parts to make sure he keeps to his vow of celibacy."
"Well that's harsh," Tristan replied with a wince. "Couldn't you just give him a slap on the hand instead?"
"No, I think he'd learn more from it if I did otherwise," she told him with a rather charming smile.
"Well you can't blame the man for trying. Any of us would, with a beautiful girl like yourself," Tristan hadn't even realized what he said as they entered the fortress, going straight to the weapon's room near the barn. Helena looked at him in surprise.
"Did you just say I'm beautiful?"
"What?" Tristan asked, internally kicking himself while he looked at her with feigned confusion.
"You did didn't you?" she said with a slightly accusatory voice, barely able to hide her smile. "Well Tristan, I had no idea that you were that kind of person, trying to make overtures at me. I'm quite shocked, really."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied, hanging her bow up next to his.
"Yes you do. You think I'm beautiful. I may have to write down the date. What is the date anyway?" she asked.
"June 3rd," he replied.
"So, June 3rd- Tristan says I'm beautiful and it turns out he's quite the philanderer. I learn new things every day," she teased him.
"Cut it out," he said in a warning voice.
"Never. You won't hear the end of this for at least a week," she replied with a smile.
Tristan tackled her into a pile of hay unexpectedly, and Helena let out a screech that quickly dissolved into giggles as she pushed him off of her with surprising strength and pinned him down herself, sitting on his stomach and holding his wrists by his sides. A moment later, Tristan rolled her back over, pinning her wrists above her head and smirking down at her as he laid on top of her, barely leaning any of his weight on her.
"I win," he whispered in her ear as he tried to ignore the sensation of her beneath him. Helena laughed at him, but apparently had given up as she conceded defeat.
"Maybe this time you've won, but you better watch out next time, Tristan. I'll beat you yet," she replied, trying to escape from his grasp.
"Oh will you?" he asked her, refusing to relinquish his grip, enjoying the moment far too much.
"Oh, I will," she replied with a smirk, picking up her head a little to look him in the eye.
Helena looked more beautiful just then than Tristan had ever seen her look before. Her blonde hair was mussed, hanging loose down her back as she usually wore it, her eyes bright with exertion and laughter, and the faint color in her cheeks gave her a youthful appearance that made her positively stunning. Not knowing what he was doing, Tristan leaned forward, his lips brushing against her own softly, testing to see whether or not she would push him away as he released her wrists. Instead, her right hand reached out to softly brush his cheek and Tristan deepened the kiss, wondering exactly what he was doing and why. Her hands tangled in his hair as she began responding more and more, and Tristan forgot for a moment that what he was doing was entirely too questionable, allowing himself to lose all thought as he kissed Helena. Suddenly, a loud voice rang out, parting the couple with gasps of surprise.
"TRISTAN, HELENA, COME QUICKLY!" it sounded like Arthur, and they both jumped out of the hay, Helena hastily brushing it off of her dress and out of her hair. It didn't take long to find out why someone was yelling for them. In the open center of the fortress, near the tavern, the Cardinal and a few of his men stood together, and the Cardinal seemed to be holding a squirming girl in a gown a little too nice to be wearing as a day dress. It took Tristan a moment to realize that it was Livia struggling in the Cardinal's grasp.
"That man takes his sex very seriously," Lancelot commented as he stood on Helena's right while Tristan was on her left.
"I know what this girl is!" the Cardinal proclaimed, spotting Helena and fixing his beady stare upon her. "I know that your sister is a mystic and you've been protecting her! As a servant of God and the Pope, I am obliged to take care of the problem, she will be killed under the charge of heresy."
"Oh dear Lord," Helena gasped softly, then stepped forward to do one of the stupidest things that Tristan could've guessed of her. "Let Helena go!"
"What?" the Cardinal was confused.
"What?" repeated Lancelot. Now Tristan was confused, and apparently so was everyone else in the courtyard, who stared between the two girls (one of which had to be Livia, and the other Helena, though no one was sure which was which), trying to distinguish which was which.
"I am Livia! Release my sister and take me!" she pleaded and took a step forward, which was when Tristan realized the girl he had kissed was not, in fact, Helena. The step she took was too graceful and flowing to be anyone other than Livia.
"Stop it Helena!" shouted the girl being held by the Cardinal. "Stop it, you're going to get yourself killed!"
"Shit, I don't know which is which," Lancelot murmured. Tristan nodded in agreement as Arthur joined the pair, looking as lost as everyone else was.
"I hate twins," Arthur murmured. "And I hate whichever one is Helena right now because whatever she's doing, she shouldn't be doing it."
"She is Helena!" the girl advancing on the Cardinal pointed to the struggling girl in Livia's clothing. "We switched places! We knew that you would be coming after me after she let it slip that I was a reader in the open. Don't kill my sister, take me. I am the heretic. I've been on this Earth far too long, leave her be and take me."
"Stop it Helena! Please, just stop!" pleaded the other girl, who was still trying to fight off the Cardinal. "I'm Livia, Cardinal, not her."
"She's a liar. Helena's always been a convincing liar. I'm Livia, can't you tell? She's clearly the much more attractive one," the girl in the green dress reasoned, not far from the Cardinal now, who looked like he genuinely wasn't sure.
"You know, I think I'm going to get a nosebleed from this confusion," Galahad murmured from somewhere behind them. "Isn't someone going to do something?"
"There's nothing we can do, we're under command from the church," Arthur replied. "If we interfere, we'll all die."
Tristan was looking between the two girls, trying to figure out which was which, and completely unable to tell the difference. Before, he had been able to distinguish between Helena and Livia by movement alone, but the finely dressed one wasn't moving all that much except to persistently struggle in a manner that could've belonged to either girl, and the one in the plainer clothing could have been either girl. At the moment it was impossible to tell. Both girls were even speaking in the far more sophisticated accent that Livia used. Tristan had a feeling that whichever one Helena was, she had been practicing for something like this for quite some time.
"Can you prove that you're Livia?" the Cardinal questioned. "Perform a reading, show me your heresy."
The girl looked about the crowd, her eyes finding the group of knights standing together easily. She pointed to Lancelot with a sure look in her eye.
"That man there, Lancelot. Within the next week, he will be confronted by all of his wenches because they want him to settle down with only one of them, tired of his non-monogamous ways," the girl predicted.
"It's Helena. She's Helena," Tristan realized. "It has to be, I told her the same thing would happen only fifteen minutes ago or so."
"That doesn't mean it's her. Livia might not be able to do a reading without direct contact with someone," Gawain replied.
"You and Helena talk about me when you're alone?" Lancelot interjected, sounding surprised. "Are you floundering that badly for conversation?"
"Shut up, Lancelot," Arthur cut in, then rose his voice. "Do another reading, Livia."
The girl's eyes fixed on him, and Tristan watched that familiar flicker of annoyance right before it was calmed. Had he ever seen such an expression on Livia's face? He didn't think so. The girl turned to one of the guards of the Cardinal and looked him over for a moment before speaking.
"You're Sarmatian, and you've got only three years left on you contract before you can go back home to your tribe, but you're worried about going back because you aren't sure whether or not you'll be able to find them again because they're nomadic, and there's a possibility that they're dead," she said calmly, and once again Tristan was sure that it had to be Helena. But when she walked, she was like Livia, as was when she spoke.
If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, looks like a duck, it must be a duck, his mind reasoned with the old proverb. Using that sentiment than the girl in front of him had to be Livia, but he still wasn't sure.
"You're right," the man said with wonder in his voice. The Cardinal released the girl in the fine gown, who stumbled back. He grabbed the girl in green by her loose hair, dragging her after him, and out of the fortress. Tristan, Lancelot, Arthur, Gawain, and Bors chased after the Cardinal, getting ready for a fight while Dagonet and Galahad retrieved the girl in the gown, making sure she wasn't injured.
"Which one are you?" Galahad asked and the girl looked at him with a dazed expression on her face.
"I don't even know anymore."
Meanwhile, the Cardinal had dragged the girl in green out of the fortress by her hair, throwing her to the hard ground. He was still surrounded by several guardsmen, but Tristan was certain he could take them down himself, which was exactly what he intended to do if Arthur didn't do something soon.
"Livia, occupant of the fortress at Hadrian's Wall, you are charged with heresy and treason, and are therefore sentenced to death by beheading," the Cardinal roared, kicking the girl in the side until she rolled onto her back with a groan. "Griffon, come."
The guard that the girl in green had done a 'reading' of stepped forward, drawing his sword hesitantly. Tristan watched as Lancelot quietly drew both of his swords, and did the same, drawing the sword across his back. Gawain was already readying his battle axe that he had been carrying with him. Bors fisted his knives. Even Arthur was drawing his weapon, to his utter surprise. Tristan had thought Arthur was going to keep his pacifistic opinion during all of this but apparently he was wrong. Without giving any warning, Tristan jumped forward, taking out the guard closest to the Cardinal with a sharp swing of his sword, catching him under his arm, where there wasn't any armor to speak of. The man fell with a shout, dying almost instantly as Tristan withdrew his sword.
Lancelot targeted another one of the guards, their swords clanging loudly as they met. Bors and Gawain went after yet another, Arthur the one still attempting to shield the Cardinal, and Tristan jumped forward to go after the one that was trying to kill the girl in green. The large man was clearly frightened of the scout, the shaking of his sword giving away how afraid he was. Tristan, however, had no mercy for someone who would kill a woman. He found the whole idea distasteful. He skillfully swung his sword about lazily, meeting the mans. It seemed that the guard was taking him to be a fool as Tristan took his time fighting him, wanting to make the guard underestimate him.
"Why do you want to protect the little whore, anyway?" the guard asked with a sneer. "Did she give you a little rough and tumble before you came out here?"
Anger flared red hot through Tristan, and abandoning the lazy swings he had been doing, he brought his sword down with incredible force and speed, sending the other man's sword flying across the field. A harsh kick sent the potential executioner to his knees. It was then that Griffon began to plead with him.
"Come on, now, sir. I'm a Sarmatian, same as you, I'm just trying to get my way home. Don't kill me, I've got a family," he pleaded. Tristan didn't care. His sword swung over his head and then down, effectively beheading the guard, splattering blood everywhere. The body slumped to the ground with a loud thump. The others finished off their prey rather quickly, and sheathing his sword, Tristan made his way over to the girl, who had been unable to move from where she had been thrown because of the men fighting around her.
Carefully, he knelt down next to her, helping her sit up carefully to make sure she hadn't been injured badly. That was when he noticed the thin white scar running across the young woman's collar bone. He couldn't help but sigh, partially from relief, but also because of annoyance.
"You are such an idiot, Helena," he murmured and she looked at him with eyes filled with fear that was slowly fading away. She looked about her at the dead bodies with a look on her face that wasn't so much revulsion as it was indifference. It seemed death didn't bother her.
"That escalated fairly quickly. I was kind of thinking I would've gone on trial or something," she murmured. "But I suppose a field of dead bodies is about the same result, trial or not."
"You could've been killed. You realize that, don't you? Arthur didn't want to make a motion against the church. He was afraid of what was going to happen in retaliation," Tristan said to her, helping Helena stand.
"I know," she said with a sigh. "But it was either I die, or Livia dies, and my conscience won't let me choose the latter. As much as I despise being her caretaker, I would never let anyone kill my sister."
"If you ever do anything like that again, I'll kill you myself, got it?" Tristan threatened her, hands on her shoulders.
"I second that motion," offered Arthur, who was leading the Cardinal back into the fortress at sword point. "I'd do it now, but I'm busy being excommunicated."
"You didn't have to do anything, though I'm pretty sure they would've killed Livia anyway as an accomplice unless she slept with him," Helena replied, taking Tristan's arm familiarly. He was surprised how easily she slipped out of the more formal accent she had imitated from Livia and into her normal voice, and the way that her steps became less ladylike, her strides lengthening and her boots completely silent on the grass. She was even beginning to carry herself differently from when she was pretending to be Livia. What an accomplished actress this vexing woman was.
"You're a foolish thing, Helena. But you've got huge... whatever it is that women have, for standing up to the Cardinal like that," commented Gawain as he passed them, shouldering his axe. "Do it again and I'll shave your head."
"Well now I know I'm not going to do it again," Helena replied.
"Good," Tristan replied, reveling in the feeling of Helena resting her head on his shoulder.
"Did I scare you?" she asked.
"A little," he admitted.
"Is it because you think I'm beautiful?" she teased him, and Tristan removed his arm from hers to put it around her shoulders.
"Shut up, Helena," he replied, but smirked despite himself.