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'Thoughts'
"Speech"
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KING ARTHUR:
Fallen Knights Return
Chapter Eleven – Rage and Passion
After Merlin left, Tristan once again curled protectively around Sandrina. They were just dozing when a small voice could be heard coming into the room "Mama? Tristan? Can I come in with you? I missed you…."
Tristan raised his head and looked at the child; brown eyes regarded blue ones, then he smiled "come Bethan, come and rest with us..." San's words fell into his memory 'she loves you as much as any child could love their father…'
The girl crawled between them as Tristan made room. She quickly settled, carefully so as not to disturb her mother, and a contented sigh left her lips "I have come home…."
He felt his heart contract. Sometimes he was not sure he liked the emotions these two females provoked in him; but he also knew, as sure as day turned to night, he would rather die this moment than have his life as it was before them.
This was how Sandrina found them all when she awoke a few hours later; snuggled together, one of Tristan's arms casually slung over them both. Bethan tucked contentedly into him, her head against his chest, bunching his shirt in her hand, almost as a comforter; his hand holding her own arm his fingers stroking it in his sleep, she wondered absently if this motion was what woke her? She smiled, 'a family…could they really be a family?' She saw the contented look on Tristan's face, and the smile playing on her daughter's lips as she slept. 'They could be…if fate let them…they could'.
But she also knew now what Merlin had been trying to tell her – she felt the rage in her, if anyone threatened those she loved; this life she had come to love, she would kill them - cut them down with no remorse.
Her strength of feeling frightened her, but also empowered her; she felt a strange emotion awakening in her. A strength she never knew she possessed, and realised this was how she had survived so long - they would never know the full extent of her treatment at the hands of Marius, and others, over the years. What good would it serve? Most were dead by her hand, and those that weren't had probably perished at the hands of others.
"I have come home….." she smiled, a deep smile that touched her heart.
Tristan opened his eyes at her voice "and you will never leave."
Dagonet knocked the door "Is Bethan there Tris? Lucan's looking for her, he woke and she was gone."
"She is. Do you want her?"
"Only if she wishes to keep Lucan company."
Bethan nodded sleepily, kissed her mother and rested her forehead on Tristan's and got off the bed "I am coming Dag, is he with you?"
"Oh Bethan, I was so worried! Next time tell me!" cried a frantic Lucan, distraught at waking to find his playmate and constant companion missing.
Sandrina and Tristan exchanged a knowing look "it seems as if there is another attachment forming" she said.
"He is a good boy…she could do worse."
"Do you know why she does that?"
"What?"
"Rests her forehead on yours? She rarely does that with anyone; I and Lucan are the only others she shares that closeness with."
"Closeness? Surely a kiss is more affectionate?"
"Nay, not to Bethan – she values eye contact. She believes the eyes are the windows to the soul. By having eye contact that close, she believes that you can see her soul and she can see yours. She believes souls can touch; she, as she told me once, believes by doing that her soul kisses yours."
Tristan's calm face remained passive and he said nothing, but inside his heart contracted once more. "As I said Tristan, she loves you deeply – I truly believe she would mourn you full as much as I, should you ever perish."
Something about what she said brought Merlin's words to mind, and he told her what had been said between them; no bitterness in his voice as he told her Lancelot had been Merlin's first choice for her….
At first she was angry that Merlin would be like that; but then thought if there were to be problems involving Lancelot, she could see why the shaman would think it would be better for her to be with the other knight. But she could not help loving the one her soul cried out to be with.
She stroked Tristan's face as he watched the conflicting emotions do battle within her.
"He spoke the truth Sandrina, that is all. But what problems could there be where you would be better with Lancelot?"
"Hmm" she looked thoughtful "I had wondered….I have seen the looks exchanged sometimes between Guinevere and Lancelot. Arthur is a good man, but rarely shows the passions that Guinevere feels. Lancelot is all passion."
"Do you think they would betray Arthur?"
"I don't know…not now, nay. But if I think things are changing I will intervene. I feel all our fates depend upon them remaining true to Arthur." She hugged him "but it is not something to be concerned with now. Naught will probably happen, they are good people and both love Arthur dearly."
However, both of them lay for some minutes mulling certain memories in their minds. Knowing how powerless they felt to resist their feelings for each other, they who had rigid control over themselves; could they honestly expect anyone else to fare better?
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Later that day, she was trying to rise when Lancelot came in "What are you doing now? You nearly died not two days ago and now you are trying to get up…is the bed really so abhorrent to you that you feel unable to stay in it a moment longer, even with your beloved scout beside you!"
She laughed and them grimaced "Do not cause me mirth Lancelot, it hurts me! As for Tristan, he is gone to do exactly that – scout. So there is no reason to lie abed any longer! But then I would expect a connoisseur of beds such as yourself not to understand that; it is a shame brother, that your own bed does not always charm you as much as the ones near the tavern!"
"Vixen! If your sword were as sharp as your tongue we would all be in mortal danger!" he laughed.
"Brother….I…." she touched his arm.
"Not to worry, sister….we are all more than glad you are returning to yourself, but I do think today is not a good day to rise. You can barely stand, and Tristan would kill us all for allowing it; do you want our blood on your hands over this?"
She laughed, and grimaced again "I swear you do it on purpose! Nay, I will sit a spell then." she sat down and pondered for a moment. "Lancelot… you would remain true to Arthur, wouldn't you? I know Guinevere is….such a lady; not like others…but she is…" she tailed off unsure what to say, though her eyes spoke reams.
He looked puzzled "I am many things Sister, but no betrayer to my King and my friend; he who is as much brother to me as you are sister. She was…is…special to me, I admit that. But I would not….could not…but if you feel...ever…..that some unspoken line is being crossed, well then – tell me; though I may not be polite about hearing it!"
The fact that he did not rail and argue concerned her, it meant the thought had crossed his mind; but at least she had his blessing to ensure it remained there…in his mind.
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The days passed, and finally the knights relented and let her leave the bed; she was almost mad with the confinement - she had not been constrained like this for a very long time, and found it difficult to deal with.
Tristan found her one morning struggling to get dressed as she paced around the room.
"You should not be up."
"I should not be abed…. I.am.going.mad confined like this Tristan. It is wrong to cage a living thing so…" she was very agitated.
"It is…it is…but you must be well. You are of no use to anyone if you die…" he turned to fetch some weapons from his kit, he was to spar with Gawain for a short while.
"Why must you always be so bloody reasonable!" Her temper had started to rise "Who cares if I die!"
He spun round and gripped her tightly by the shoulders, his eyes glared even as his voice remained even and his face passive "All of us care…I care."
"If dead I would free; I cannot stand this…prison any longer, I am not used to being shut up so!"
With one swift movement he swept her up into his arms and walked outside with her to the courtyard.
The breeze immediately blew in her face, the horses in the stables stamped and whinnied and the hawk circled overhead calling a greeting to her.
She closed her eyes and drank in the fresh air, the feeling of freedom; then looked up at the blue sky; saw the hawk wheeling high….then all too soon it was at an end…
"Come, let me see to your wounds..." and he returned her to her…no, their….room – for he had not left her at night since the battle, and she doubted he ever would now.
She relented; as he stood her back on the floor she lifted her sleeve. He saw the one on her arm had healed nicely and the one on her leg was healing well too, its stitches had been removed the day before. Then he checked her side, that too was looking very good, 'the stitches could come out tomorrow' he thought.
"One more day San…one more day…that is all…"
"I'm sorry I was cruel…but…."
"You hate being shut up…I think I got that…" a small smile ghosted his lips.
"Another joke?"
"As I've said, I do have a sense of humour. Is it because of Marius?"
"Yes…there were many things he said to me, as well as did….."
"Like what?"
"He told me he would make sure I would never see the sun again – he would make me so ugly, no man would ever want me or love me….."
"He was wrong - I love you; with every beat of my heart and every breath that I take."
She touched his face "I love you too…full as much."
He smiled and kissed her. "Just one more day San" he said against her mouth.
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The following morning at daybreak Merlin came to remove her stitches; he was pleased to see her recovering so well. Things were stalling with her away from the knights, fate had set things in motion; but for the game to be played out, all the players had to be present.
As soon as the stitches were out, San was up and dressing "Be careful child, you must still watch that wound on your side."
"I will, I will…." She was impatient to be outside - the breeze blew through the window.
"It calls to you…"
"Aye…aye, it does. It always has…I never understood before..."
"But you do now?"
"A little, Tristan makes it easier; he is so……still. I think he could see a blade of grass growing…" she smiled and shook her head in wonder at the man she loved so "he makes me more and more aware of the natural world around us. He was teaching me, before this" she indicated her side "to fight with instinct; not anger or planning, just instinct."
Merlin was pleased; he could see now why fate had chosen the scout for her. Her elemental abilities would help her be a better fighter and healer, but the scout would teach her to be a more effective warrior; and a warrior was what this game needed. Not just on the battlefield; nay, someone to fight to preserve this new beginning, to thwart the evil that was gathering on the horizon, was going to have to be a warrior.
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A few days later Sandrina had a chance to prove what a fighter she was……
She had been helping at the tavern; Arthur had ensured she was placed there almost permanently now. He felt that way she could be with the knights, and one in particular, as much as possible; with the odd stint in the stables purely to ensure the horses were happy. If she did not go there regularly to see them, they would become fractious and difficult to handle, even the knights' mounts.
She had been clearing up, when she had heard an altercation between Vanora and a very drunken man. She was unsure as to who he was, only that he was being very abusive –something about one of the children knocking his drink and he wanting a free refill.
However, Vanora was not easily cowed – too used to these drunken brutes "Shut up! I saw not a drop spilled!"
"Whore! Give me more ale; but free, or I will be free with my blade!"
Vanora ignored the idiot and stalked outside to throw the night's few broken crocks away. Sandrina saw the drunk and a crony of his follow her; a sharp breeze blew round her, sending chills down her spine. The feeling of dread was there once more, and she flew the way Vanora went.
Tristan immediately sensed her change of stance even before she started moving towards the back of the tavern. She passed him with a face of ice, and he immediately started to follow; the others, although drunk, sensed something was amiss and began to rise with him…
Sandrina came out of the back of the tavern as the larger man; the one Vanora had argued with, backhanded her across the face. The other woman, well used to abuse from customers, stood her ground which only enraged him more; sensing this, with one swift movement she was in front of Vanora pushing her out of the way.
"Leave her be and walk away, and you will live through this night…both of you." She said mildly, glancing at his friend and marking his position.
"You think you would best me wench! You think you would win!"
She glanced at Vanora "run!" she muttered. The other woman fled shouting "ROOOUUSSS" as she went, trying to raise the knights unaware they were already approaching. "Aye...I do."
"Go ahead little woman, take your best shot…." He grinned to his friend.
A breeze started to blow gently around her; Sandrina threw her left arm out as if going to hit him with it, but punched him square in the face with her right - breaking his nose. She then grabbed his head by his ears and head butted him. As he fell to the floor, she sensed a movement and her right arm flashed out - holding her dagger to the other man's throat.
"Don't upset me…."
The other man stammered and stuttered, raising his hands up in submission instantly. She pocketed her dagger and spat on the man on the ground, now trying to rise, blood pouring from his nose "Scum!"
As she started walking away, she felt him rise behind her; her hands already at her back as he swung her round by the left shoulder "No woman beats me, you'll lose…"
As she rotated round she stepped back and drew her daggers "on the contrary" she stepped forward cutting his throat with her left hand, "I" then stabbing him in the chest with her right "win".
Sensing someone approaching her from behind; her body pivoted and her left arm swung round automatically dropping the dagger held in it and grasping the other man by the neck "and you" cutting his throat with her right hand "lose".
She let him drop to the ground and bent to retrieve her other dagger.
She glanced and saw the first man feebly grasping his neck with one hand and trying to grab at her ankle, she stepped back onto his arm viciously with her left heel before swinging round "you" stabbing him through the heart with her right hand "should have walked away" she told him mildly.
Finally knowing both men were dead, she bent to wipe her bloody blades on the legs of her breeches. A movement in front of her caught her eye and she looked up to see all the knights standing there open mouthed "Knights! What? What?"
"Remind me never to upset you, sister…" Lancelot smiled; all had sobered up quickly in anticipation of a fight, but had quickly realised they were not needed "you have a fiery temper on you."
"I will brother, but you will not listen I'll wager!" she grinned and walked away.
As she came level with Tristan he nodded proudly. "Fought well and with precision."
Bors grabbed her and hugged her tightly, causing her to gasp in pain. "Bors, my side….my…side…"
"Sorry, sorry" he let go immediately and stepped back "I was just so grateful - I couldn't lose my Van…she is the only one who would suffer me, bear my brats…" Vanora hugged him, knowing what he was really saying.
"It is alright, just a little sore." San lifted her shirt - the scar was a vivid red, but no damage was done. "Merlin says it will be a little while before all is healed completely inside the wound. So long as you don't squeeze me to death, it will be well!" She laughed.
She walked on as Tristan caught her up, trailing fingers across her cheek "you did well."
"They were drunk…."
"Not that drunk….you fought well. You did as I taught you; you stayed calm and aware of your surroundings – sensing them. We will make a knight of you yet."
"I'd be content to be a scout - one as good as the man who serves Arthur." She smiled, then grimaced as a yawn overcame her "I am tired".
"We should go home then, Bethan will wonder if we've abandoned her" He kissed her deeply, ignoring the cheers of the other knights as they came into view.
"I know one knight who will be a happy man on the morrow!" crowed Lancelot.
"Well, it won't be you!" laughed Sandrina "For I saw Lynette leaving with Morgan from the Smithy not five minutes ago. Maybe if you go and beg, she might let you watch."
"Harpy! One day that sharp tongue of yours will cut you!" cried Lancelot in mock outrage.
The other knights roared with laughter at the exchange; their San was back.
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Minutes later San checked on the other children and Bethan in the smaller of the two rooms. "Mama? Did you fight?" asked Bethan.
"Why?"
"You have blood on your face…"
Sandrina wiped her face "It is not mine, but someone else's. I was helping Vanora…."
"Did you win?"
"Aye."
"Good; what shall we dream of Mama?"
The nightly ritual had begun; Tristan never tired of hearing it. The way she described it; you could almost feel the wind on your face and the sun on your back, hear the birds singing, the rumble of thunder and see the crackling lightening in the sky……..
"What do we always dream about little one? A wide open plain and us riding as fast as our horses will gallop across it; the sun on our backs, blue sky above us and the wind in our face, the freedom that comes with being able to run as far and as fast as you wish with no one to hinder you.
The solitude of a quiet wood with no disturbance save your own thoughts and the call of a bird; the excitement of a thunderstorm, where the thunder calls your name and writes your dreams in the lightening.
That is what you should dream about Bethan; what I always dream about…."
The silence told her that once again her daughter, like the others, was finally asleep. She leant across and kissed her hair "and to know that there are at least two people in this world that cares if I died tonight. You fill my soul with pride and my heart with love Bethan….because of you I have not lost all faith in mankind, and I found the courage to love." She turned to Tristan "You …."
They went into the other room; he watched her gingerly easing off her tunic.
"Let me help you…"
He helped her out of it, his touch sending burning sensations down her neck as his fingers brushed her skin.
She turned to him; his eyes full of passion he dipped his head and kissed her "are you well?"
She knew what he was asking "I am very well!" and wiggled her brows; he smiled against her lips.
"I love you San…you are my soul…" this time the kiss was deeper and longer, leaving them both breathless in its wake. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed her eyes, her cheeks and her mouth before trailing burning kisses down her neck…..
He picked her up and carried her to the bed "I promise to be gentle," he whispered.
"I know you would be nothing else with me, ever…." They lay on the bed for some time just enjoying once again their closeness, their warmth, their kisses as they had every night since she'd come back to him.
He kissed her "Never leave me San…" She arched her head as his hands and lips began to explore each and every scar….
"Never, not even Heaven could keep me from you……"
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Hours later, spent and happy – they lay twined in each others arms. She was his completely now….in every way; as far as God, the Heavens, or any deity was concerned they were together for eternity.
Sandrina was too happy to immediately notice the distant rumble of thunder……
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Fate now had all the players….so its game begins; and Destiny allowed its wheels to turn forward, this time down a different path.
