Alright, I've had a few questions running through my mind that I need help with.
We all can picture the knights and Arthur in this fanfic, for obvious reasons, but I was wondering if you could cast the other characters (Elaine, Lamorak, Kay etc.) with any actor or actress, American, English, Australian whatever, who would they be?
I'll read your reviews if you have any ideas, and in the next chapter I'll give you mine.
Enjoy!
Chapter 14
A Knight Alone
After bidding the crude Cardinal a good night, Arthur made his way towards the stables, where he knew most of knights were likely to be. The night was beginning to set around him, as he walked down the alley. It was warm, the rains from the previous days dissipated, and many of the villagers were out in the streets. Two boys ran past Arthur, nearly crashing into him. They stared up at the Roman commander, with fear in their eyes, but Arthur smiled down at them, gently ruffling the hair of the one closest to him. They beamed back at him, before scurrying off.
When he entered into the large doorway which led to the stables, Arthur eyes met the sight of all eight of his men training and riding their horses about. Lancelot and Kay were in the middle of what seemed to be an interesting, but friendly sword fight. Bors sat beside Dagonet, who sat sharpening the blade of a large axe with a wet stone, and jeered at every move the two combating knights made. Lamorak and Galahad were each upon their horses, while Gawain sat near them on the benches. Tristan sat above Gawain, mending a hole in his leather shirt. Arthur cleared his throat, getting the attention of each man.
"Ah, the prodigal son of Rome returns," Lancelot said, before striking down upon Kay suddenly. Kay just barely deflected his blow
"Not fair, you ass."
Arthur chuckled before moving to sit next to Gawain. "Don't let me interrupt."
Lancelot smiled, "Right, Kay, it's your move."
Bors shouted, "It's been your move for an hour."
Kay waved off the older knight's insult, before swerving around a striking at Lancelot.
"Hey, Arthur?" Lamorak asked from his horse, "Why is that old clod here?"
"Who, do you mean Gawain?" Galahad said. Gawain launched a chunk of half-eaten bread at the knight.
"The Cardinal?" Arthur waited for Lamorak to nod his head in agreement, "Oh, he says he is here to observe the well-being of certain assets of Rome a little closer."
"Which...really means...that..he...has run low on...blind...wenches," Kay responded in between blows from Lancelot's twin swords.
"Yeah, he's come to see if there's any here perchance," Galahad snorted, as he lead his white mare back toward the stalls. Jols, who had finished moving Elaine's possessions into her rooms, entered the stable, and took Galahad's reins.
"Most likely," Arthur laughed, than sat back against the bench behind him. He rested his arms behind his head and extended his legs out before him. The men were surprised, but very pleased to see Arthur at ease for once.
Tristan finished mending his shirt, than stood to move down closer to the commander. A thought had been running through his mind ever since Arthur had introduced Elaine to the Cardinal.
"Why did you not tell the Cardinal that Elaine was the healer?"
Arthur looked up thoughtful into the sky, but did not grow unnerved by his scouts question. "It was not necessary."
"Why not?"
"Well, I'll admit, I already knew that the Cardinal intended to journey here," Arthur chuckled, "he always enjoys thinking he surprises me with his arrival, thinking he's somehow outsmarted me. It would be a surprise, if he didn't always send half of his belongings to the Wall a week before he arrives."
Gawain chuckled, "What a fool!"
"But why did you not tell the truth about Elaine's purpose here? Surely he must know of Rome's command for her to be brought here," Galahad said, walking up after seeing to his mare. He was wiping his short sword with a small, red rag, as he neared Arthur and the others.
"Cardinal Aurelius is, believe or not, not considered one of Rome's more finer, respected clergy member," Arthur said sarcastically. "Rome doesn't always send him many orders."
"Still, why did you not tell him exactly who she was?"
Arthur's face grew serious again. "We still do not know Rome's intentions fully enough, concerning Elaine. The order only said that the Celtic Healer was to be brought to the Wall and that we were to wait for further instructions. I just don't think we should tell anyone about who Elaine truly is, certainly not to the Cardinal, until we know what Rome wishes of her."
Lancelot, after finishing his training with Kay, cocked his eyebrow up at Arthur, as he sat down on the bench next to him.
"I cannot believe it. Arthur doesn't completely trust Rome's orders for once."
"It is probably for the best," Kay said, as he sat on the other side of Dagonet, "for Elaine's sake, that she not be to involved with anything to do with the Cardinal. But what do you think Rome wants with her?"
"I do not know," Arthur said sitting up, a troubled look on his noble face.
"Nice Kay, just when he was starting to relax for once, you make him go mad again," Bors said.
Arthur looked up at the older man smiling, before he stood.
"Good night, men."
"No Arthur," Galahad protested, but did not move to stop his commander. "Come to the tavern with us."
"I would, but alas, Elaine has been alone in her room all night. Knowing how she is about being trapped in doors, she's probably clawing at the walls already. Good night."
The knights shared a hearty laugh, as they bid the commander a good night, before slowly rising from the benches, one by one, and making their way out of the stables. All nine spilled out into the streets, their laughter waking up half of the sleeping houses as they went by.
"Ahh, they want another drink."
Vanora slammed her wooden tray down upon the bar, where Bors sat, his son, Gilly, sitting up on his lap. Bors was telling his son about his latest battle, in the hopes that it would encourage the boy to become a little more aggressive with his own fighting.
"Here, woman," Bors slipped his arm around Vanora's waist, pulling her to him, while still steadying Gilly on his left knee, "give us a kiss."
Vanora giggled, but pushed gently against his broad chest. "No, I have to work."
But despite her excuses, the two lovers got more and more affectionate. Gilly made a face, before slipping of his father's knee, unnoticed as he ran off to tackle one of his brothers. Vanora giggled against Bors lips, as his strong hands moved up and down her back.
"Excuse me, but some of us would like some more ale."
Lamorak hopped up on the stool next to Bors. Bors ended his assault on his lover reluctantly, before turning annoyed to the young knight. The seven other knights came up merrily behind Lamorak, each spreading out in the small bar space.
"Do you mind, boy."
Lamorak shook his head, "Only because I'm usually forced to."
"Watch your tongue, Lamorak," Vanora pointed her small finger at him, as she smiled slyly.
"Anything for you, Vanora, but," he tapped his empty mug loudly against the hard wood of the bar, "I still could use that ale."
Vanora glared as the other knights, Bors included, laughed. She made her way behind the bar, but found that Tristan blocked the entrance. He leaned up against he wall, his long legs extended far out in front of him, as he bit into a glossy green apple. Vanora frowned. She had gotten to know all the other knight quite well, all except Tristan, for he was very quite and seemed a little dangerous. Vanora was a very brave woman, but deep inside, she feared the scout more than anything else on the earth. She didn't hate him, for how was it fair to hate someone you hardly knew, she just didn't wholly trust him.
Tristan noticed Vanora's nervous look. He knew she was frightened of him, as was most of the barmaids and wenches at the Wall. Personally, Tristan liked Vanora; she was a decent woman, a rare thing in such a dark place. He moved his legs up, straightened his back against the wall, as she passed by quickly.
"So, who was that woman?" Vanora asked the men, as she busied herself retrieving more ale for her pitcher.
The knights halted. They remember what Arthur had asked of them in the stables, but weren't sure that they couldn't just tell Vanora.
"She looked like a queen or something. I've never seen such a gorgeous gown in all my life, and those stones in her hair. I heard someone say they were pearls. Pearls? I'd only ever heard of them. Oh, but she was just as beautiful of face..."
"You are babbling Van," Bors nudged at her arm across the Bar. Vanora shut her mouth, but narrowed her eyes at him.
"Well if you'd only tell me who she was, than I wouldn't."
"She's...Well, she's Arthur's sister," Kay said, as he leaned both his bulky forearms down upon the edge of the bar. Vanora nearly dropped the pitcher as she poured ale into Lamorak's waiting mug. Some of the cold brown liquid splashed upon the young knight's sleeve, causing him to jump off the stool.
"Van!"
The woman ignored his exclamation, "Arthur's what?"
"His sister," Lancelot repeated, his trademark smirk emerging over his face.
"Arthur has a sister?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Well she's very beautiful."
"And quite talented with a bow and arrow. And sword. And dagger. Oh, and these strange looking knives," Gawain rambled on.
"She can fight?"
"Yeah." Tristan spoke for the first time.
She turned to look at the scout, as she asked, "Like a Woad?"
"More like a Celt, I guess." Galahad scratched his messy beard.
"A Celt?"
"It's a long story."
"She possesses a perfectly quick tongue, as well," Lancelot said, as his eyes stared down into his mug, a genuine loving smile on his face. Vanora noticed this, as little taken aback by such an expression on the scoundrel of a knight. She could not recall a single time where Lancelot spoke of a woman in such an admiring, kind tone before.
"Does she now? Well, Lancelot, I am sure you enjoyed her cunning mouth."
The sly smirk returned once again, as Lancelot looked devilishly at Vanora, "Regretfully, not in the way I'd like to enjoy it."
Vanora shook her head, and Kay punched Lancelot's arm hard.
Lamorak, looking quite upset, retorted, "Oh, but how she always seemed to defeat Lancelot with her words." Lamorak told Vanora of the many things Elaine had said to Lancelot. Vanora laughed so hard, tears feel down her cheeks, and Lancelot's jaw turned hard, as he took forceful gulps of his ale.
"Oh, I like her already! What is her name?"
"Elaine."
"Ahh, that is such a pretty name. Come, tell me more of this Elaine."
Tristan couldn't stand to listen to the group any longer. He had to get out of the bar, out of the tavern, out of the streets. 'Hell, I need to get out of the fortress.' There was no way he could stand to listen to them talk of Elaine. For all he could think about was her, and he didn't need his thoughts to be encouraged.
Tristan silently slipped out of the tavern, completely unnoticed by Vanora or any of the other knights, or so he thought. Kay watched as Tristan left.
He strode quickly towards the stables to retrieve his steed. He needed to rid his mind of her, and a hunt would do just that. His focus would be on the kill, and not on her face. Her face, surrounded by white light, her dark silky tresses, her pouting rose lips, deep dark eyes...
Tristan froze. Gods he was mad.
The Woad warrior yawned as he got up from his seat next to his companions. He made his way into the clearing to relieve himself. The forest was cloaked in utter darkness. Tristan was hidden behind a huge oak tree, bent over low to the ground as he neared his target. His footsteps fell silent upon the forest floor, his shoulders moving up a down with each step, as if he was a wild cat of sorts. With fierce dark eyes, the skilled scout had no trouble seeing the world in the dark; his senses always seemed to be a little more heightened than the average man. Tristan reached behind him, retrieving a single arrow from his quiver, and notching it into his bow. He waited in silence, before he was to strike.
The Woad neared the oak tree, coming from a small campfire in the woods, where three others like him, sat. They were sent by Merlin to watch the happenings at the Great Wall, especially those involving the lady of the Knights. The blue woad yawned again, but was cut short when an arrow hit directly through his throat. The others heard the disturbance, and quickly ran into the clearing. When they reached the fallen comrade, who still struggled, not near to death quite yet. There was no one in the clearing, and the warriors frantically searched the woods. They weren't left waiting long, when another mysterious arrow shot through the air, and point-blank into the eye of another woad. Tristan burst through the trees, swinging his long sword, slicing an arm off, than running the third Woad through. The fourth, and last, charged the scout, wailing like a madman. Tristan quickly spun around, hacking the man through the stomach. The scout stood still, fury and excitement running through his veins, and his heart thumping hard against his chest. The three dead woads lay at his feet, and scout looked down upon them. He lived for this, for the hunt. It was the only thing he knew that calmed him. Yet, as he stood there deep in the British woods, dead bodies he'd mercilessly slain at his feet, Elaine's face came into his mind. His heart beat even faster than before, and his hands began to tremble. He hated himself. This was not him.
"Argh."
Tristan turned to see the first woad struggling with the arrow lodged deep in his neck. Blood gurgled in his mouth, and spilled down his face like a stream of water. He was attempting to escape. The scout walked slowly to him, and stood over the woad, a mask of no emotion whatsoever placed over his face. Fear filled the woads eyes, as he stared helplessly at the man standing before him. Tristan was unaffected. He quickly swiped his sword down upon the man's chest. The fear disappeared as the woads eyes darkened.
Tristan stood over the bodies, alone in the woods. This, was who he was.