Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for my own characters. Anything/anyone you do not recognize belongs to me. I may use lines and/or quotes from other sources, which are not my own, later on in the story. I'm not quite sure though-so I'm being un-specific. Those (if I do choose to use them) also do not in anyway belong to me.

A/N: Review responses for the last two chapters are at the end of this one.

Choices

Chapter 13: Calm Before the Storm

The remainder of the trip to the wall had been uneventful. Lancelot had stayed on his horse, riding in silence among the knights. Lena had not found the sleep she desired within the wagon, and instead occupied herself with speaking to Etta as they journeyed.

"You must have been dreadfully afraid though, with a dagger at your throat." Etta had been asking about Lena's ordeal with Marius days earlier. "Lena? Weren't you?"

Lena breathed a small laugh. "I've been in worse situations."

Etta scoffed disbelievingly. "What's worse than that? Being defenseless and at a man's mercy—I can't think of anything much worse." Lena didn't respond, but only watched as Etta shook her head somberly. "I suppose it's different for your kind, though." Lena raised a brow, and Etta continued. "I mean, being taught to fight from the time you were knee high to a pig's eye. All you wild women must be used to having knives thrown at you."

Lena let out a genuine laugh. "Wild women?"

Etta laughed as well. "It's what the priests and monks called you. Vagabonds, criminals, and animals who let their women run wild and wreak havoc." Lena's smile fell a bit, but Etta didn't take notice. "What mindless sheep we were! You lot were certainly frightening from far away, but really, up close you Woads are just like us—If everyone took the time to get a better view they'd see it as well." Lena cocked her head to the side, weighing Etta's words. "You're certainly wild in comparison to the Romans, but I dare say women like me could do to be a bit wilder. Romans just don't like the idea that a woman could be as capable as a man with a sword." She chuckled a little. "They're afraid of what the wives they beat would do if they got a dagger in their hands. Good for you though. I've always wanted to learn how to handle a blade." She finished quietly, almost sheepishly.

There was a pause in which the two women watched each other, an unspoken, newfound respect passing between them. Once it ended, Lena broke into a large, honest smile.

"If you'd let me," The Woad said seriously. "I'd love to teach you how."

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Upon their arrival at Hadrian's Wall the group was received by Bishop Germanius, who immediately plastered on a glib smile once he had spotted Alecto. "Ah! Good! Christ be praised! Against all the odds Satan could possi–" The Roman boy backed away towards his mother. "Alecto! Let me see you! You have triumphed! Young Alecto! Let me see you! You are here!" He stared at the young man in confusion, none of his warmth reciprocated.

The Bishop's eyes swung to the knights, who stood menacingly beside the wagon. He laughed nervously before speaking to them. "Great Knights. You are free now! Give me the papers." He ordered his servant. "Come, come! Your papers of safe conduct throughout the Roman Empire!" No one moved. Instead the Bishop received only glares. "Take it, Arthur." He spoke, his frustration evident. Still glares. Germanius laughed nervously again.

Arthur moved in front of the man he had once respected. Face to face, Arthur wondered why it was he'd ever respected the Bishop at all. Standing there, it was becoming increasingly evident that Germanius was nothing. "Bishop Germanius. Friend of my father."

He nearly spat before walking away.

The Bishop's look was nothing less than shock, but he recovered quickly, training his eyes on the knights who still stood, stony and unforgiving, before him. "You are free. You can go!"

Lancelot finally grabbed the papers from the box and handed one to each of the Knights. To Bors he gave two, as Dagonet had been moved to the infirmary and was not currently present. "For Dag. Take it to him."

Bors looked disgustedly at the papers Lancelot had dropped into his hands. "He could be dead by morning! This doesn't make him free! It's nothing!" He yelled, his eyes focused on the bewildered Bishop. "We're already free!" He pounded a fist to his chest before walking away, on his way to see Dagonet, no doubt.

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As soon as the caravan had arrived, Lena had been dragged into the infirmary, despite her most valiant protests. Etta had forced her into a cot beside Dagonet's, and then proceeded to shove a bitter liquid down her throat which she claimed would do wonders for Lena's slight fever. What Etta hadn't mentioned was that a side effect of the drug was extreme drowsiness. Lena had collapsed into a peaceful (and induced) slumber before she knew what hit her.

Hours later, she opened her eyes to find her vision clouded, her head heavy, and her mind foggy and slow. Lena shook her head and blinked several times, trying to clear away the mist that had somehow settled over her body and brain.

She looked around in confusion before spotting the empty glass Etta had made her drink from earlier. Lena mumbled several incoherent curses and shook her head violently in another attempt to rid herself of the after effects of Etta's medicine.

It was growing dark outside, Lena could tell from the one window that had been left slightly ajar to allow for fresh air. She smiled in the dimness as she made out the form of Bors, sleeping fitfully in a chair near Dagonet's cot. She lay back down and closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the peacefulness of the room. It would not be peaceful here for a long time again, she realized sadly.

Lena was jolted from her thoughts when the sound of distant voices began approaching. Two people were whispering somewhere around the corner. She sat up in bed and strained to hear.

"I don't think so, Galahad. I can't leave my charge." A familiar and distinctly female voice could be heard.

Etta! And Galahad! Lena smiled satisfactorily at her discovery. She continued to eavesdrop, but could not make out the words Galahad was speaking.

"I can't!" Etta responded to whatever the knight had said.

"Only for a few moments. You need a break, Etta."

Yes! Take her away, and I can get out of here for a while! Lena thought excitedly.

"Ham bones is there if anything should happen."

What? Ham Bones? In the excitement of planning her escape, Lena had forgotten to listen closely enough. The Woad shook her head and nearly laughed at her own stupidity.

Etta began speaking again. "I suppose you are right. And she won't be waking for at least another hour. Bors is capable enough to call for help…" There was a pause. "All right. But only for a few minutes."

Galahad let out a little victory whoop, and then the voices grew quieter once more, as the pair walked away and turned another corner.

Lena swung her legs off the cot, her toes meekly making contact with the cold floor. She waited a minute before rising and slipping on her leather sandals. Pausing at the door Lena poked her head out to make sure the coast was clear. She cast one look back into the room before casually walking into the hallway. As she sauntered along, Lena realized that only days ago she had snuck away from under Dagonet's watchful eye in much the same manner.

As she continued her stroll another familiar voice became audible in the distance. Lena approached the room from which Arthur's voice flowed. "Merciful God, please, give me Your guidance in this, my hour of need. Give me the strength to do what You see fit." Lena stopped in the entrance of Arthur's room. He had left the door ajar and from her position, Lena watched Arthur, bathed in the strange glow a dying fire in the hearth of his chambers provided. He stood on his knees, eyes closed, hands clasped, his face tilted upwards and appearing almost golden from the light cast by the shrinking flames —a man of faith begging his Lord for aid. The Woad's heart wrenched. He was unknowingly beautiful and crushing all at the same time.

Lena didn't realize, but she must have sighed softly at the sight, for Arthur's eyes snapped open and flashed towards her suddenly. A moment of silence passed before either spoke. "Forgive me." Lena started as she made her was further into the room. "I didn't mean to intrude."

"Its fine, Lady." Arthur spoke as he stood up. He gave her a once over before continuing. "I thought you had been placed in the infirmary under Lady Fulcinia's orders."

"They were Etta's orders, and you needn't worry." Lena perched herself of the edge of seat as she explained. "I'm much better now."

Arthur gave her a suspicious look before sighing and sitting himself down on the edge of his bed. They sat in somewhat awkward silence for a while. Lena's strange eyes danced over the room until finally landing on the broken pieces of what looked like a large clay coin. She picked the two largest fragments up carefully and fit them together before holding them out to Arthur. A pained look flashed across his countenance briefly.

"Pelagius." He explained somberly. "He taught of freedom and equality all throughout Rome. He was like a father to me." Arthur made no attempt to hide the sadness in his eyes.

"I've heard of him." Lena said softly. "He taught here, in Britain, did he not?"

"Yes." The knight smiled a bit, as if remembering something fondly, though the sorrow was still evident in his gaze. "But he returned to Rome when I was still a boy." The sadness in his face was replaced with anger quite suddenly. "Alecto informed me not a day ago that Pelagius was excommunicated and killed. Killed by Bishop Germanius, the man who sent my knights on the mission we have just returned from. The man who slept in this very room a night ago." Arthur ran a hand through his dark hair in frustration. He looked at Lena pleadingly, desperately. "The Rome I fought for is gone. I don't know what I believe in anymore"

Lena smiled knowingly. "Yes you do, Arthur." The Roman gave her a confused look. "Maybe Rome isn't what it once was to you. Maybe your heart does not belong there any longer—maybe it never did. But that only changes where you are. The things you had faith in are all around you. Freedom and equality—goodness, justice, love—those things still exist in the world, Arthur." Again she gave a knowing smile. "You just have to know where to find them, and when to fight for them."

This time Arthur returned the smile. "I spoke to your cousin earlier. She said that these are my people." He shook his head uncertainly. "Do you think that as well?"

The Woad leaned forward, her voice and eyes both serious. "I know it." Lena saw the doubt that still lingered in his gaze. "But that means nothing until you do."

"I —" Arthur was cut off by a knock at his door and a hurried voice.

"Arthur. Come to the wall now." Lena and Arthur exchanged one concerned glance before dashing out of the room.

They were both impatient by the time they reached the wall, and quickly ran up the steps to find a worried Lancelot. Guinevere stood behind him, anticipation evident on her face. Arthur and Lena looked over the wall and finally saw what it was everyone had been watching.

Saxons.

Or more accurately, their camp fires.

At least a hundred tiny fires dotted the field before them. That could mean nearly 700 Saxons. Lena had expected as much, but actually seeing it before her made it all the more frightening. The other knights had arrived by now and stared in disbelief at the army sitting at their feet. Arthur stared out at the flame-speckled field before shifting his gaze to his knights. He looked down upon the crowd of villagers, then back to his knights. His eyes connected with Lena's haunting own for a second, but he looked away. Then his gaze fell on Guinevere. Her eyes, warm and dark and confident, spoke a million words. And then he knew.

"Knights. My journey with you must end here. May God go with you." Arthur nodded once before climbing down the stairs. Lancelot looked scornfully at the two Woads before running after his friend.

"Arthur!" Lancelot called out as he chased after his commander. "Arthur, this is not Rome's fight. It is not your fight." His eyes were pleading now. "All these long years we've been together, the trials we've faced, the blood we've shed...What was it all for, if not for the reward of freedom? And now when we are so close! When it is finally in our grasp - look at me!" Lancelot grabbed Arthur by the arm, forcing him to stop. "Does it all count for nothing?"

"You ask me that?" Arthur furrowed his brow. "You who know me best of all?" Arthur gave him one more look, and then began to walk away again. Lancelot would not be so easily deterred.

"Then do not do this! Only certain death awaits you here." He had to make him understand. "Arthur! I beg you! For our friendship's sake, I beg you—"

Arthur grabbed Lancelot by the shoulders. "You be my friend now and do not dissuade me. Seize the freedom you have earned and live it for the both of us." He shook his head, almost apologetically. "I cannot follow you, Lancelot. I now know that all the blood I have shed, all the lives I have taken have led me to this moment." Arthur paused for a second, replaying Lena's earlier words in his head. "This is my freedom. This is my choice. " Lancelot watched despondently as his closest friend walked away.

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Lena had stayed up on the wall. The panicked crowd that had been at the scene earlier had slowly filtered out, and now only several remained, watching the Saxon army. The young Woad's eyes weren't fixed on the fires, or the Saxon beasts who mulled around them. Instead she looked up, her gaze examining the countless stars and luminous moon.

A pair of arms engulfed Lena from behind, and for a moment she thought it was Lancelot. But then a voice followed the arms, and Lena knew it was Balor who stood with her.

"Do you remember the summer when I was 15?" He asked, stepping away from her. Lena nodded and he continued. "We found that pond and swam everyday. You, me, and Guinevere." He laughed at the memory. An honest, quiet laugh. "And Anlaf followed us there every single time…to read Guinevere the poetry he wrote!" He laughed again, not mockingly, but happily as he began to recite one of Anlaf's more memorable pieces. "Guinevere, oh Guinevere, you are the sun in my sky, shining brightly in the noon—"

"You are the mutton in my pie, and for you the flowers bloom." Lena smiled as she finished for him. Balor laughed heartily, and again Lena saw the youth and mirthfulness she had always adored in him. It was times like these, when she remembered why they'd been so close. For all his shortcomings, Balor was still a good man. "We had so much fun then." Lena whispered, looking back toward the sky.

Balor moved to stand behind her once more, his eyes lost in the stars as well. "We were quite the pair, Lena. You and I." His voice was lacking the cockiness Lena had grown to dislike. "We still could be." Balor placed a warm hand on her shoulder. His touch was not possessive or presumptuous as it had been earlier. It was a gesture of kindness. Of comfort and friendship. Of hopeful and unassuming affection.

Lena was not fortunate enough to experience this, however. As soon as Balor's hand had landed on her bare shoulder, Lena's eyes had gone white and her body had frozen.

She stood helpless and in a fog, watching the scene before her. Balor, blue war paint and all, was fiercely cutting Saxon after Saxon to ribbons. Lena followed his movements over the battlefield. Dead bodies and other warriors melted out of her way. Balor. He was the only thing she could see clearly. Lena watched as another average, incompetent looking Saxon began to fight her friend. But this one was faster and more skilled than the others. He caught Balor off guard.

Before Lena or Balor realized what had happened, there was a sword protruding from Balor's abdomen. The Saxon withdrew the blade and Balor fell to his knees, eyes wide and confused. And then, with one more swing of the blade, Balor's head lay several feet from the rest of his body, horror still marring his young face. Lena couldn't move. She watched helplessly as the murderer walked away, his back to her. Short and bald—those were the only characteristics she had time to identify before he disappeared. He could be any one of the Saxons.

How could she stop this without knowing who to stop?

And then her own voice filled her head, "Three for one, three for one…" It chanted over and over. Lena stood there, Balor's head at her feet, her voice fogging the air, whispering the same words again and again.

"Are you all right?" Lena blinked twice and the Saxon fires were back in front of her.

"What?" She asked, confused.

"You gasped so suddenly, I thought something might be wrong." It was Balor, still behind her, right where he had been.

"I'm fine." She managed to croak.

"All right." He removed the hand from her shoulder. "We both need rest, Lena. Tomorrow holds our destinies; it would not do to be sleepy." He laughed. She tried not to cry out.

"I just want to watch the sky a bit longer." She whispered instead.

"All right." Balor nodded. "I'll leave you then." He began to walk away but turned suddenly to face her again. He looked at her boldly before speaking. "I—I hope you know how much I care for you, Lena." The Seer smiled softly.

She knew. And she knew he was waiting for some kind of response in return. Some kind of "I love you" that she could not give. How could she when her heart was already in someone else's hands? Lena's thoughts stopped dead for a second, but remembering Balor in front of her, she brushed it off quickly.

If tomorrow was his death day, how could reject him? Instead of speaking, Lena did the one thing she honestly wanted to do. She threw herself at Balor, wrapping her arms around his neck, and burying her face in his shoulder.

"Be careful tomorrow." She mumbled into his chest, though she knew it could not change anything. Telling him of the vision couldn't change it either. It would just make his last hours miserable.

Lena took a step back and looked at the boy she had known since her second day as a Woad. He wasn't much of a boy anymore, she corrected. His eyes though, they would always be young. And maybe his heart too. "Goodbye, Balor." She was trying desperately to keep from crying. This could be the last time they ever saw each other.

"Say goodnight, Lena, not goodbye."

"Goodnight, Balor."

Yes. His heart would stay young too.

As Lena made her way back to the infirmary, she thought of her own heart, and the realization she had accidentally come to pertaining to it. It already belonged to someone?

Yes, moron!, she answered for herself. It belongs to him. Lena laughed despite herself.

She was in love with Lancelot.

And as a mental image of the knight floated into her mind, so did a voice that disturbed her to no end.

It was her own.

"Three for one, three for one." It whispered again and again.

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Wow, okay. It's 3: 30 in the morning and I'm about to pass out…but I had to get this finished. This chapter was driving me crazy. Sorry that it was such a long wait, I was gone on vacation for two weeks and didn't have any way to work on this.

I'm not so sure about this chapter. I feel like it came out really weird and crazy and doesn't make a whole lot of sense. Especially the end and the whole dead Balor part...Eh, please tell me what you think. I'd love to hear what you guys all thought.

I don't know when the next update will be, as I'm resuming classes in less than a week. I can't believe that I've been writing this story since the end of last summer. A YEAR? Weeeeeiiird.

Review Responses:

Mae: Thanks, and monkeys are pretty cool.

Sorceress Misha: Lena did get a bit better in this chapter, though she's still going to be plenty conflicted. But what's a story without any conflict? I wont be making things easy for them too soon.

TriGemini: Thanks! And, yes, Lena's past and her father do really suck…but that's a whole lot of what makes Lena who she is. And Lancelot does realize that the sight it hard for her to deal with, but he's being a bit of a selfish moron…I sort of thought that was more in character of him then just being like "That's cool, lemme help you." Thanks for your other review as well. Yup, Balor's got it bad for Lena.

Irishfire: Thank you! I always love your reviews- this one made me feel so much better about those chapters. And I'm glad you liked Lancelot in the vision. I wanted to explain part of her past without making it too boring, so I figured, why not just have pretty boy stand around? That always makes things more interesting. Oh, and, you know, the little tiny part where it's a huge character development point. Lol. Thanks again.

Evenstar-mor2004: Well, I think all the worth-proving is going to take place next chapter…but I hope he's a bit more in character by now.

LANCELOTTRISTANBABY: Thank you! I hope you like this chapter. And I've probably already said this, but I like your penname.

Raz 42492: Oye, I hope there's chemistry between them by now. They're all admitting to being in love and what not. Lol. I would have smacked her father a couple of times myself if I could have.

AngelTears1328: Thanks!

HyperSquishy: Haha! Lol, I really disliked Balor in the last couple chapters as I was writing him. But I hope you saw the okay side of him in this one. Don't worry though; he'll be going away eventually.

Kay50: Thank you very much

Kal's Gal: Lol…I'm quite happy to hear you state your mind, please, go right ahead and do so again. I think I might have gone a bit overboard when I was trying to make Balor unlikable before. Maybe this chapter redeemed him a bit? Though he's still not right for Lena.

Neveah101: Wow, thanks. Haha, don't worry, I've had much worse stalker moments myself…erm, I mean….what? Yeah, but thanks for your review, It made me feel a lot better about the whole getting flamed thing.

Okay, that took FOR-EV-ER….I'm going to go sleep for the next 16 hours….

Thanks all!

Blue