A/N: Sorry about the wait – I've been very busy with school. I've been so busy that I should be doing homework, but I'm updating instead. School is annoying, however much one likes it. Luckily, the holidays are in three weeks which means a lot more time for writing, which, of course is never a bad thing. Also, at the start of the holidays I'll be posting a new story I've started writing, keep your eyes peeled in a few weeks xD
Disclaimer: Okay, I'm adding to it. I only own Honor. I don't even own Phaedra. Hang on…I own the character Phaedra, but not the name. The name was snagged from Greek mythology.
Honerbright: I take it that you like it xDDDD --takes cookies-- why thank you my brilliant lil Gemzeh. Note. Galahad loving. xD
Lancelottristanbaby: so do I, I find it fairly easy to imagine him as a father…which would be hard for him to really do, but of course here, he thinks that once Honor is healed, someone will take care of her and he can go back to his womanizing ways…so he thinks…
Kal's Gal: thanks for the review xD I takes it that you're enjoying it. Hope this pleases.
Gwenn0: oh thanks for the kind words indeed xD well, Honor is good for Lancelot, in more ways then one. Remember the feeling he got when he was holding her in the village. I'll keep my story as long as people are interested in it xD and probably beyond too. I find it refreshing too, to see Lancelot as a gentle sort of person. It's very fun to write because I can be as sweet as I like while writing his character (because of the fatherly touch), instead of the macho knight. I hope you enjoy the chapter xD
Wanderer of the Roads: --patted-- thank you ma'am xD so do I. I hate them with a passion. Of course they can't! Gawain might get some in future…that's an idea xD or possibly Dagonet…hm… to tell you the truth, I don't rightly know who "they" are either. Or though I think I know. It seems impossible. I know. I actually quite adore Lancelot like this, though of course, who could say no to the macho and oh-so-cute knight? xD mwah that would make the story have a twist…them lovers on the side. Intriguing…ooh and keep your eyes open, I'll be doing a Lanceh romance, no posting it, in the holidays – approx. 3 weeks. Evil? Of course! Yes yes, they'll get really really drunk in the next chapter, I seem to make this one all Honor and Vanora – expanding their fragile relationship. Yes precious! Plotting precious, we must oh yes precious! You'll get semi-Arthur angst next chapter, as well as Lancelot, Galahad and co. and Guin will arrive. It does suck indeed, so get on again xD hurry up and update Destined To Be…I needs the Heather xD
Daydream1: hehehe thanks xD I was trying to figure a title…and then I thought of the plot and it snapped. It was amazing! xD ooh that's a very good storyline, to be a love child. Although so far I don't really see it happening. Yes they do have a bond. It's so sweet, I love Lancelot and Honor to death xD all the knights thought that, you're not the only one…she is old for 5 xD hehehe thankies for your kind words and I hope you enjoy the chapter xD
Voldie on Varsity Track: What have I ruined? I'm scared. Whats happened to Lancelot?
It took over an hour to calm Honor down. When the sobs finally subsided, she still lay in Vanora and Lancelot's arms stifling hiccups and sniffs. Finally, after Honor was too weak to do much, Lancelot pleaded with her to let Vanora bathe her, which, to his surprise, she allowed. Both Vanora and Lancelot could scarcely hide their astonishment at Honor's weak, weary and quiet "If you must Lancelot." She had agreed at letting Vanora touch her. Lancelot couldn't believe it, but even being who he was he didn't say anything having realised there was a fragile truce between Vanora, Lancelot and Honor. Anything they did or said would have a tremendous effect on Honor no matter whether it be good or bad.
"Let's get the rug off shall we?" Vanora's soft, but cheery voice broke through Lancelot's thoughts.
Lancelot blinked as he refocused his eyes to the scene spreading out before him. He was leaning against the closed door, watching the two women closely…or at least until he fell asleep. Vanora was perched precariously on the edge of Lancelot's bed next to Honor, who had her knees under her chin, but was sitting up, one hand on Vanora's leg – whether it be for support, or simply to feel someone close by, Lancelot didn't know. The point was, was that Honor was allowing someone to become close to her. The rug had fallen around her waist, revealing a blackened, tattered dress, which was hanging off a burnt, blackened, bloodied body. Lancelot silently cursed the Saxons.
Honor stared at Vanora, which was an amazing thing to do, considering there was swelling around both her eyes.
Vanora smiled sweetly at Honor. "You'll feel better once you've bathed, I can promise you that Honor. It always feels horrible having dirt and dried blood over one's body?"
Vanora nearly fell off her perch, while Lancelot shot straight to his feet with what happened next. Honor spoke to Vanora.
"I wouldn't know. I've been like this for longer then I care to remember," her voice was low and husky, her lips cracked and bloodied, from days in the sun without any protection whatsoever.
Looking at Vanora's amazed expression, Honor chuckled, a deep sound from her throat, obviously it hurt her, due the cracked sound of her vocal chords. However, it was brilliant in the adult's minds that she did even that.
"You are surprised, no doubt?" Honor said, again very quietly.
"I…I think we both thought that you had fled to wherever the knights found you when the Saxons attacked your village," Vanora answered.
"My village? It would be no such thing, although I would dearly love to call it my own," Honor replied.
"But…the pit…it was underneath a house," Lancelot stuttered, amazed. "You must have…"
"I escaped from them shortly before the Saxons attacked. I told the villagers. A man hid me there," Honor said.
"Them? Who is 'them'?" Lancelot asked, moving over to his bed and kneeling in front of Honor.
Honor looked over Lancelot's head to the door and didn't say anything.
Lancelot stared at her.
Vanora shook her head at Lancelot. Reaching over to Honor she said clearly "here, let's get this off you." She took hold of the rug and pulled it over Honor's lap, so her legs were exposed.
"Lancelot," she gestured to Honor.
Realising what she meant, Lancelot stood and then picked Honor up, very gently while Vanora grabbed the rug and threw it onto the floor. Lancelot gently put Honor back on the bed.
"Lancelot, I'd be very thankful if you would stay here and help me get Honor into the tub, and then you can go to the tavern and join the knights," Vanora said, looking at Lancelot.
"Should not the maids assist you?" Lancelot asked baffled completely as to why Vanora was asking him to stay and watch Honor be rid of her dress.
"They could not carry Honor," Vanora reminded him gently.
Lancelot was at a loss of words.
'He is so sweet when he is baffled,' Vanora smiled inwardly. "I mean Lancelot, you may close or eyes or what you will while I help rid Honor of her dress. Then I can help her be wrapped in a towel and you can carry her to the tub, where, having put her in it without any water, you may leave. I can do the rest. Oh, I might require some assistance afterwards though."
Lancelot stared, Vanora's words still having not fallen in place properly yet.
"Lancelot," Vanora said, authority seeping into her voice. "You may leave and stand outside the door if you will. When I call you, I would have you take Honor to the tub."
Lancelot looked at Vanora blankly for a few more seconds. "Oh."
Vanora smiled. "Good, if you've understood. Shoo."
Lancelot shooed.
In truth, he was a bit overawed by Vanora. 'Remember, she is a mother to many children and Honor will be another for her throng.'
Lancelot shut the door quickly and leaned against it, trying to get perspective on the events of recently. One thing he would definitely need to talk to Arthur about would be the maps…and 'them' whoever 'they' may be. Honor was very much a mystery to him, and everyone that had met Honor.
Honor stared at Vanora through her eyelashes. Vanora had turned from her, and was busy, rustling through Lancelot's chest of drawers, trying to find a towel.
"Aha!" Vanora was victorious. She had found a towel. The towel had been buried at the bottom of a drawer, with layers and numerous piles of clothes and scraps of material. "Now," Vanora turned back to Honor. "Once we've got the dress off you, we'll wrap you in this –" she picked up a length of material "-and Lancelot will take you to the tub.
Honor nodded slightly, watching Vanora closely. Vanora walked back to the bed holding the material. She carefully put the material down on the bed next to Honor.
The next few minutes were hell for both Honor and Vanora. Honor stood up, without any help, and then collapsed on the ground.
"Honor," Vanora breathed, sinking down next to Honor.
Honor grit her teeth and shook her head. "I can do it. Can I have your hand?"
Vanora stared at Honor for a second. Then, nodding, Vanora stood up and held out both her hands. Honor reached out to Vanora with both hands. Vanora caught them. Honor levered herself up partially, but then sank down again.
"Here," Vanora slipped her hands under Honor's arms and linked her fingers on Honor's back. Honor never lost eye contact with Vanora as that said lady lifted Honor bodily up. Vanora smiled encouragingly at Honor as Honor collapsed on the side of the bed. Honor was forced to put all her weight on Vanora as she stood up again.
"There," Vanora murmured softly.
The acting of peeling Honor's tattered dress from her body was one of the most difficult tasks that Vanora had ever undertaken. The dress – which Vanora guessed would have once been a light brown in colour – was partially black and dark red due to the amount of ash, dirt, mud and blood that had marred the simple beauty of the dress. The process of getting the dress off Honor was difficult. Dried blood and mud had caked over the dress, and on to her body, and Vanora had to yank it off in some parts, causing her patient to bite her lip very hard and close her eyes.
Finally, after minutes of yelps and curses, the last remnant of the dress was peeled off.
"Honor?" Vanora asked very softly.
"It hurts," was the only reply she received.
Honor was curled up in a ball on the edge of the bed, moaning quietly.
"It'll hurt more in the tub," Vanora nodded.
"Then I won't bathe," came the obstinate reply.
"You will pet, you'll become accustomed to the water," Vanora replied cheerily. "Now, do you mind moving ever so slightly? I need you to be wrapped in this."
Honor opened her eyes and looked at the cloth.
"Please? Lancelot waits patiently outside, ready for me to tell him to come in again, to carry you to the tub. He would very much like to see you clean pet," Vanora leant against the bed, looking at Honor.
After many pregnancies, it was obvious that Vanora knew what she was doing, and it was also obvious that she knew how to control children and teenagers. For, what had she done? She now had Honor wrapped around her little finger. There was something about Vanora that made everyone like her and love her after a short amount of time. Indeed, this was so with Honor and Vanora. Here was a friendship like no other.
Vanora watched as Honor looked hauntingly at her. The material was now wrapped around Honor so that she was "decent" as far as certain hormonal men were concerned.
"Lancelot?" Honor whispered, the haunting look never leaving her eyes.
"Aye, Honor. I'll fetch Lancelot for you. Now no moving about to much – you could hurt yourself badly," Vanora smiled, shivering inwardly at the look Honor was giving her.
Vanora could feel the pair of eyes digging into her back as she walked to the door. Opening it, she poked her head around the edge of the door.
"Lancelot," she poked the knight in the ribs.
Lancelot opened his eyes, blinked and looked at Vanora.
Vanora tilted her head back towards the room and smiled sadly at Lancelot. "She's in a bad way Lancelot. Physically, she's burnt, worn, her body looks terrible. I can see whip marks that are never ending. Blood has encased her stomach, upper arms and thighs."
At the mention of the word 'thighs' Lancelot jerked upright and stared at Vanora, a burning question evident in his eyes.
Vanora shook her head slightly. "I don't think so Lancelot. She's just been wounded. Badly."
Lancelot closed his eyes for a second, reopened them and looked back at Vanora.
"Thank you," he uttered. "I…I am eternally indebted to you Vanora…"
Vanora smiled. "Come, Lancelot."
Lancelot followed Vanora into his chambers like a dog would follow his master. 'Indeed', Vanora reflected to herself, 'sometimes Lancelot was very much like a little puppy.'
Gawain grinned as he watched Galahad. Since arriving in the tavern not an hour past, Galahad had enchanted, and had been enchanted by a red-headed lass not like Vanora, but even more fiery if that was possible. Red hair, blue eyes, and a fiery personality. Chuckling, Gawain turned back to his drink – she would keep Galahad on his toes that night.
"Hey," Bors nudged Gawain.
Gawain blinked and looked at his companion.
"He is struck by love," Bors chuckled. "Or at least – lust."
Gawain grinned again, as he watched Galahad pull the girl into his lap. Now, what was her name again. Phaedra? That was it. She must have been named for the legend. Desire. That was one word that suited both her and her namesake.
"Love is a very great thing," Gawain replied to Bors, dramatically. "I wonder if we even dare to wonder what love can do to us."
"Give us bastards for one thing," Bors chuckled, his mind wandering to his lover and should-be wife, Vanora.
"True, true," Gawain replied, nodding, and downing more of his ale.
"Which reminds me…have you seen Vanora?" Bors put down his own drink, and stared at Gawain.
"Last I saw of her, she was talking with Lancelot, looking very mysterious," Gawain smirked. "Perhaps, the greatest lover of Vanora is no more, his place been overthrown."
Bors stood up. "What!"
"Calm yourself Bors. Gawain speaks the truth, Vanora is with Lancelot. Unfortunately for him however, they have a charge – Honor. Vanora is loyal to you…or isn't that obvious to you?" Tristan's quiet tones intervened.
Bors sat down again, cursing under his breath.
Exchanging glances, Tristan and Gawain then watched their friend mumble obscene things.
Dagonet shook his head. "You truly are idiotic Gawain. Do you not realise that when Bors gets his uninhibited mind back, he'll maim you?"
"As if he could hurt me!" Galahad said gallantly, purposefully forgetting the times he had been thrown to the ground by the fierce giant.
Amidst the sniggers of Dagonet and the raised eyebrows of Tristan, Gawain returned his gaze to Galahad and Phaedra, who, by this stage, were whispering words of love to each other.