Disclaimer: As before please, for the love of God, don't keep making me write it out people:O) The tie that binds' and 'to cut the pain' that Lancelot carries out are actually true customs carried out in some Celtic and other similar traditions.
All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.
'Thoughts'
"Speech"
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KING ARTHUR:
Fallen Knights Return
Chapter Fourteen – Bloody Revenge
As the knights rode to the fort, a wind began to pick up; it blew round Sandrina, the Woads and knights looked on in amazement.
Suddenly, San's face paled "we must get back to the fort - NOW!" And she urged Hunter into a gallop "there is much trouble; come knights, our king has need of us!"
Tristan knew that look, she had had the same look the night Vanora was attacked; he spurred his horse into a gallop to ride along side her "Is it bad?"
"Aye, very; we must get there soon. It is the Celts…."
"Celts!" Said Lancelot, catching them up "San, the last time…"
"I am better prepared this time Lancelot - I will do naught to let you down….."
"You did not do so before; we merely worry about you my sister..."
She smiled "Don't - I have the wind at my back this time!" and she let Hunter have his head, the horse almost flying in front of them.
Odell riding behind knew he was looking at someone as powerful as Merlin, but one who did not realise it…...
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As they crested the hill, they saw the battle raging below. They all shared a look; the Woads had come to like these knights, and the woman. They instinctively knew she was more one of them than any other here.
The knights all looked at each other; Bors grinned "I fancied a fight!"
Tristan looked at her "be careful; I don't want another 5 days without sleep."
"There's that sense of humour again."
He smirked "remember you are my soul; I would not survive you long, San…"
"Nor I you…."
She loaded her bow, the Woads looking on in surprise that she could fire 6 arrows so quickly, and screaming with the men who were now her family she rode full tilt down the hillside; her arrows flying……."RRRROOOOOUUUUUUSSSSSSS!"
The battle was not going well for Arthur, with his knights and their skills missing he was faring sorely bad. The Woads were doing their best, but like his Briton men, they had not the skill and they were being slaughtered.
Then he heard it; the knights battle cry and looked up to see them, with San and the Woads, riding headlong down the hillside…… "Thank you God!" he muttered.
Her quiver empty; San drew her sword, and hacked at heads and limbs as she rode through the milling throng towards the fort. The wind blowing her forward, this time she listened. She saw Guinevere on the battlements, her face torn with emotion.
"GUINEVERE – THIS DAY WE NEED A WARRIOR, NOT A QUEEN!" She cried and waved her sword above her head "RRROOOUUUUSSSS!"
Guinevere smile "I AM COMING MY FRIEND! I COME TO DEFEND MY COUNTRY….AND TO FIGHT WITH MY HUSBAND!" The Woads and Britons who could hear her cheered.
The wind still with her, she fought her way to Arthur; who glared "You should not have brought her forth…."
"She needs to fight with you Arthur. Do not turn her into something she is not; you will rue it, trust me." San warned.
She leapt off her horse and hacked a Celt before her to the ground. Odell was being cornered by three Celts; she raced to him and hacked two down – Lancelot took care of the third. Odell nodded his thanks; as he went to turn, a breeze caught her hair.
"ODELL - MOVE!" The man instinctively fell to the side as she thrust her sword into the throat of a Celt that was coming behind him.
The wind blew to her left; something was not right - the Celts, they were not all the fighting the same.
"MERCENARIES! SOME ARE MERCENARIES!" She cried to Lancelot.
"SCUM!" he yelled as he took the head of another of the enemy to his left.
They changed tack, mercenaries fought with a ferocity that came with long years of paid battle and brutality. The Celts fought with passion, thinking right was on their side.
Brutality needed to be fought with brutality. She drew her dagger; spinning and turning, she cut and hacked with both sword and dagger, the wind guiding her - yet still she kept Tristan in sight as much as possible. Occasionally their eyes locked and she felt her heart contract.
Every time she looked at him, the wind changed to a breeze and she realised he would be safe this battle. Wounds maybe, still those she could tend, but he would not perish this day.
She looked round the crowd as the tide began to turn in their favour; waning spirits had been buoyed by their arrival - the Queen now joining her husband on the battlefield wearing her woadish clothes caused them to fight all the harder. Guinevere had not abandoned her people after all…
The two women found themselves fighting side by side "You fight well," panted Guinevere.
"As do you; but mark, there are many mercenaries - they are animals and we must be careful." They began to move apart.
After what felt like hours, when her arms ached and she had so much blood on her she felt sticky and sick with the smell, the enemy began to fall back.
The breeze swirled to her right; she turned and saw a group advancing on Lancelot and Dagonet - she tore over, this time the wind almost blowing her along; Guinevere running behind.
She swung her sword, putting her entire weight behind it; one of their enemy's heads rolled along the ground as she took it off with one swing.
She saw one of the mercenaries take a swing at Alima, the Woad woman who had accompanied them to the Bishop's, who had also gone to aid them. She tried to dodge the blow on hearing San scream a warning and almost did; but the sword bit deeply into her arm. Blood spurting, she fell….
"ALIMA!" San ran to her, hacking and killing as she went. The hawk looking down on the scene could see the path that San cut through the retreating enemy.
She had a sword to the man's throat forcing him to kneel, then a flicker of recognition ran through her "YOU!"
He staggered back as if confronted by a ghost. Lancelot dove forward to make the kill; but San's own sword blocked it……..
"NAY! Meet my owner - Jarlath." She smiled thinly.
The knights stood in stunned disbelief; on the battlements Merlin smiled, seeing the destruction that Sandrina had cut through the Celts and their mercenaries, he knew this time she had listened to the elements. He also saw the man with her sword to his throat, also blocking the dark knight's attempt to kill him, and Galahad's to the kneeling one's back; now they would see what she was truly capable of.
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Down on the battlefield; Lancelot, panting heavily, watched Sandrina "Is this the mercenary that Marius sold you to? What will you have me do, San?"
"Leave him to me; go now - you will not wish to witness this…" However, none moved; all transfixed by what was happening; but by then Sandrina was oblivious to their presence - she only saw another who had tormented, abused and persecuted her; he the worst of all.
"Should I kill you quickly; or make you suffer as you did me?" she asked the man before her, her sword digging slightly deeper into his throat.
"Should I allow my friends to beat and abuse you, as yours beat and abused me? Should I allow the women here to use you to relieve their sexual frustrations as you did your comrades on me? Should I force you to watch as I butcher people you know?
More over, should I lock you away in a pit and only allow you out for my own amusement; to beat you, cut you and abuse you?
Perhaps I should hold you down while you are raped by the owner of this fort and laugh as you beg for mercy, as I was by you and the owner of the house?" As she had asked each question, she cut into him and the blood now poured freely from him.
Jarlath was frightened; he was a coward, only brave when he knew he had the upper hand and he was fully aware that this time he didn't…
"I….I was under orders by Marius…." He stammered.
"You were not; his wife told me that you hated me full as much as he because I refused you when I was still able, as I refused him. But you more than repaid me for that….." her eyes narrowed.
"Both of you, you raped me; you held me down while he raped me - laughing! After I escaped I had people who would try to beat me as you did, and I learnt to fight back - to kill them as I will kill you for what you did, not only to me but other innocents! Do you know how much I want revenge?" she hacked at him again, nearly severing his right arm, the rage rising in her like boiling water.
Merlin watched; the moment had arrived…..they would see…..
Jarlath's screamed in pain, but carried on "I screamed for help, for some mercy Jarlath - and you laughed at me; you told me I deserved everything I got, because I would not bend to the will of Rome. What will was that; the will of men who wished only to abuse me at their leisure?" She was slicing into him now, heavier blows than before…
"I watched you butcher Woads; starve them, rape them and torture them just because they were pagans.
I say that you deserve this for your butchery; you will join Marius and his ilk in hell, and I wish you good journey!" She spat on him. Looking down at him, pouring blood, chunks of flesh missing from her savage blows – she showed some pity for the father of her child, with one swift movement she severed his head from his shoulders.
"I am not you; I will not torture to death…."
She turned and walked away from the bloodied and dismembered corpse, her face emotionless; the knights stood in stunned silence. They had never seen this side of San…..
Arthur turned, the others following his line of view, and took in the path she had cut through the enemy; they stared in disbelief at the savagery of her attack.
Tristan walked with her, she would not look at him; he felt the rage in her subsiding "We have all been there Sandrina; all felt the same bloodlust…" he nodded "I still do every time I fight."
"Really? I doubt you know what I was feeling; the rage I had in me. I wanted revenge, I wanted retribution; and not just for me, but for the others he helped slaughter." She closed her eyes against the memory "You will never know….."
He stopped her and turned her to face him "Nay, I may not – but I know you showed him pity at the end, I doubt we would've. I love you; you are for me."
"How can you want me now? I have been defiled! I should have told you; but I couldn't. I couldn't tell you what I was….." tears ran down her cheeks, causing clear streaks in all the dust and blood on her face.
He was moved, she never cried "Sandrina" He shook her, though his voice never rose "I do not care what others did to you; all I care about is now - you are mine and I love you. You are my heart and soul."
She looked into his eyes, and believed him.
She had been holding herself rigidly, trying to shut down her emotions for fear of rejection. Now she allowed herself to slump against him, he held her close – murmuring into her ear his love.
Minutes later she felt a hand upon her shoulder; she turned, it was Bors "If you hadn't killed him, I would've; what he did to you….let others do to you….he deserved worse….." he growled.
She smiled, still leaning into Tristan "Bors, my friend – there is no excuse for the butchery I have just carried out. But thank you for being such a loyal friend.
How is Amila? Did she live?" Remembering the one she had rushed to save, the catalyst to this.
"She lives, but will need help – her arm is badly injured and will need much work. I think Dagonet and Merlin will have need of your assistance in trying to mend the damage." Arthur spoke.
She could not look at him; he took her chin and lifted her head "I cannot say I agree with what you did San – but I do understand…..
As for Guinevere, you are right - I try too hard to make her a queen, I do not allow her to be herself; the self that drew me to love her. I will try harder…." Sandrina smiled and looked at Guinevere, who was staring at Lancelot.
The knight was doing his best to ignore the longing look she was levelling at him; and Sandrina's heart went out to him.
She wearily extricated herself from Tristan, looking at him with such love and devotion that it took his breath, and went to Lancelot's side. "Brother?" she touched his arm "You have such strength to resist" she nodded imperceptibly toward Guinevere "do you hate me for my weakness?"
In reply the knight hugged her fiercely to him "As to weakness, you have none; it is only your strength that keeps me from giving way to mine. I cannot believe you survived such butchery…" he shook his head in disbelief.
"But I would never, could never hate my sister. Those….things that you suffered at his hands - if you had not dealt with him, I would have; I think Tristan too would have welcomed the opportunity to deal with scum such as he, that would so injure one we love."
"And I" said Dagonet coming up "You are one of us San. We would not forsake you for a moment of madness; could we honestly say, if we had suffered the same, we would not want our moment of retribution also?
You have no need to worry about what you suffered, there is no judgement against you here; we love you as our sister…or more." he nodded at Tristan.
Gawain and Galahad nodded in agreement "Aye, you only did what any of us would have done. As to the other - we care naught for that, except you suffered so; we don't love you any less."
"But this…" she gestured to the swathe of dead bodies in her wake.
Lancelot shook his head "No more than any of us would do with similar skills; you are a warrior San, and you should be a knight. What say you Arthur! Make her one of us now!"
Arthur nodded "she has earned the title this day. But I doubt we can call her Sir Sandrina; it will have to be Lady Sandrina…" He smiled.
"You are a lady after all, dear sister; much against your will I am sure!"
"Agreed; and it will be in name only brother, and best not to forget it…." She smiled "You will never change me….."
"Nor would we want to….."
Up on the battlement Merlin knew that she had passed the final test of the knights – if they could cope with bloodlust such as this, the defilement she had suffered, and still not reject her then she was now truly one of them….
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She met him in the room that used to be Tristan's until he moved into her room. Alima was groaning and her arm was badly hurt; flesh hung down where Jarlath had cleaved it to the bone.
Merlin looked calmly at her "You had retribution?"
"Aye, a clean kill would have been better for my own peace – but I wanted him to at least suffer some of what I and others endured at his hands."
"They still accepted you despite that and your…..treatment at the hands of the Romans."
"Aye, and I love them all the more for it; especially him." she gestured to Tristan, who stood watching from the door "I thought I loved him as much as I could ever love another; but I was mistaken…I love him even more now."
Merlin smiled "That is as it should be….soon there will be more reason…"
"What?" before she could ask more, Dagonet drew her aside "it is bad San….very bad. She may not last."
"I will not let her perish…." She went over to the woadish woman "Alima, can you hear me?"
"Aye….it hurts San, it pains me badly."
"You have to fight Alima…you have to fight…You are Woad, you are Briton – you will not surrender."
She took some salt and made a circle by the bed – she took the woman's dagger and stabbed it into the middle "to cut your pain, to cut your pain in two."
The moaning subsided slightly – San shared a knowing look with Tristan, who was still in the doorway, whilst she worked with Merlin and Dagonet.
Merlin was proud of her, on many levels – she was embracing her heritage, she was endeavouring to ensure that fate's game ended the way destiny had decreed, and she was true to one who loved her as dearly as she loved him.
Lancelot entered the room "how fares she? She fought bravely today…"
"She is bad Lancelot; she will need someone to sit with her to ensure her fever is watched, and she does not pull her stitches, as I did." Seeing a reason to escape his own torment he readily offered to be the one.
Sandrina smiled "I assume your reasons are not all charitable?"
Lancelot smiled sadly "Am I that obvious?"
She hugged him "only to me brother, only to me…" she went to the door, and looked round with a heartfelt smile "You fight well on all fronts Lancelot; but your honour is where I aspire to be like you most of all…and why I am proud to call you brother…" and left him open mouthed.
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She went to see the children, to reassure them they were back, and in once piece. She did not tell them of what took place on the battlefield; she could not tell her daughter she had killed her father - no matter how much she knew he deserved it, no matter how much she knew Bethan viewed Tristan as her father in every way that counted.
So they went through their ritual, and for a brief moment Sandrina could escape the smell of death that still hung from her.
Once back their room, she and Tristan bathed together to rid themselves of the blood and dirt they were caked in.
Then they tended each others wounds. "More scars" she sighed, looking at the deep cuts on her arms and legs in the candlelight "I doubt I will have an inch of skin left that has not been scored in some way soon."
Tristan's chocolate brown eyes rested on her "and yet I have never seen you look more beautiful."
He trailed a fingers over her collarbone and down her side, tracing the vivid scar of the blow she took to protect him – he leant down and kissed it lightly, causing her to gasp "Do you know what you do to me?" she whispered, twining her hands in his hair and pulling his mouth up to kiss her…
"Only a fraction of what you do to me…" they lay back on the bed wrapped in each other's arms, and let the night roll over them as they loved each other….
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He sat through the night and watched the woman before him fight for her life.
Somewhere deep inside his soul, something stirred in Lancelot; he took a piece of cloth from her bandages and, remembering what Tristan had told him he had done for San, he carried out 'the tie that binds'……never realising what he was really doing….
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The players were once again victorious in the second round of Fate's game; and Destiny, pleased that another wrong had been put right, allowed her wheels to move on once more….
I know this is probably a particularly barbaric way of dealing with Jarlath; however the original draft was a LOT more bloodthirsty, but I toned it down...
I wanted to show that Sandrina isn't all sweetness and light, and it's the darkness in her that draws Tristan as well as the light. He is well known in the movie for his bloodlust on the battlefield; I just wanted to show that San is pretty much the same.
