Spared

PART TWO

I know I said that this chapter was going to be on Badon's hill, I decided to squeeze in one more scene before it that may or may not be more than one chapter. So i can't give you the exact placement of the plot, you will just have to use the clues i give within the chapters to see where it is at.

She sat in the damp corner opposite of the body that rot day after day, right across her. The stench was unbearable, but after three straight days of bearing it, it became just a faint annoyance. It was the sight, that disturbed her, made her toss and turn in the small blink of sleep that she received. Without sleep, or any type of entertainment, she only had her mind to fine salvation in. But, her own thoughts were driving her mad. She had too much time to think, too much time to analize the smallest details, and as the days drew on, the newly gained knowledge, pushed her closer and closer to the edge of her insanity. Too much thinking could be bad for a person, and in her case, it was her worse enemy. All her thoughts, were only dark, morbid memories or plans, causing the hatred to grow within her. A couple more days in the cell, and she would truly go on a rampage. With so much time in her hands, she even thought of Scenarios. If he let her live, because he thought her life valuable, she would kill him for ignorance, and then kill herself. If he let her live because he thought she had something to live for, she would kill him for stupidity. If he let her live, just to smirk at her misery, she, in a fit of rage, would tear him limb from limb, slowly allowing him to slip into death...and then take her own life with a clean blade.

She knew what was happening too, and she knew the right alternative, 'just end it all, leave it all behind ' , but she couldn't find herself doing that. She couldn't tighten the grip around her throat until she found out why he allowed her to live, just so she could end up in this cell, rotting away. She even promised herself, that she would go through anything and everything, keeping herself alive just to get that answer from him. And she must of been pretty damn determined, because by now, a person without no one to go home to, nothing to do but think about a world that was already spoiled for them, would have slipped peacefully away. But she would not let go, she would not take the easy way out.(Just yet). She needed just to suffer a little while longer, to find out that one thing, so then, she could take his and her life at ease.

Salome snapped her eyes open alert as she was disturbed by banging sounds just near the door, past the staircase. She listened contently for a moment, ceasing when she heard voices beggining to trail from within. She gave a leftward glance to the cell across, to see if it was just her. But it wasn't, Gunivere was also alert. They caught eachother's eye only once, until both pairs of eyes became interested in the 'newcomers'.

However, the men the voices sounded familiar...couldn't be newcomers, because if they were, their voices would be shaken, but the voices that entered, were confident. Guinivere thought nothing of it, she was hopeless, and she stood curled in the corner. Salome, however, became extremly curious and hopeful, and she began to finally break the stiffness at her limbs by leaning to her left, bending her arms out of their cradling position, and gripping to the bars. When her grasp was firm, she pulled in her weak body, and put her head to the bars, waving her arms wildly, in desperiety.

She waited upong freedom, anticaptedly, just waiting for whomever it was, to open those gates, so she could spring out and run around like a wild animal, even if it would be running like a clumsy calf. She became rather impatient, as they were stalling by observing the place. 'like this place deserves a marveled stare' Salome thought bitterly as she began to smack her hand against the floor, not ceasing until she saw a pair of feet approach her cell.

She stopped in satisfaction, and moved herself a bit back, giving room for the gate to break in or out. She already put herself in a crouching position, so when the gate was open, she could fly out like a bored bird with need of space and exploration.

Salome didn't hesitate at all, she didn't even give a second glance at Guinivere to see if she was receiving the same assistance, and she exited out of there so quickly, that she fell over her own feet. She knew it, she just knew it. She wouldn't be able to walk, she couldn't even stand up without it hurting, and she couldn't help but actually become dependent for a second, as she grasped a random man's shoulders, for support. She, like no occassion before, actually trusted the man for a split seconds with the task of not dropping her, but when she looked up, and finally saw the face of the form that held her in his arms, she flew back, smacking against another. She whipped around, as if the presence behind her was him, but when she saw it wasn't, she felt dissapointed. She would have to wait longer...

She looked as if she were a crazy woman, haunted by the visions of ghosts, looking in alarm in every single direction as if she were expecting to see a glimpse of them. One tried to comfort her, but she wouldn't allow it. She didn't want to be touched by anyone, especially her enemy since the birth of her people, especially if it wasn't him. Oh, yes, she wanted him to touch her, just so she could transmitt her pain to him, like ligtning to a tree, her being the lightning. And she saved that pain upon her flesh, inside her gut, not to be tainted by anyone's feel but his.

After she viewed every face, saw that none of them was him, and she began to feel that she was needlessly lingering in a place where, she obviously did not want to be. So, summoning her running skills that pretty much were like a fawn's stride, she ran toward the light that came from the doorway.

She tripped over the stairs multiple times, feeling the brusing of her knees and shin every time they smacked upon the ground, each time, becoming a little more discouraged, so that by the time she actually made it to the outside, she fell flat on her face, and didn't even bother to get back up. She was exhausted, finally worn out, and she could only manage to lift her head and move her hands out of the way of stomping horse hooves.

She looked up, with the dirtiest look on her face as if she were about to mouth off to the stranger, but when her eyes focused against the sunlight, and on the person hismelf, her mouth shut and her face expression dropped. This only occurred, as she had to stir up her other rage, the rage that has been waiting just for him. Her eyes became a deadly black, and her mouth was filling itself up with the venom that rested within her throat for quite a while. But when she tried to expel it, nothing shot out. Not one drop of green poision. It had dried out...her voice was gone. She began to desperatly clear her throat, trying to remove anything that may have been blocking, but nothing, only a scrathcy irritation from within, and a frustration, that built her rage even more.

Since she couldn't throw out anything to tear this man down, she decided that maybe a rude hand gesture, or maybe a strike would suit, but before she could even lift herself up, she was picked up from someone behind her, and began to be carried off. She tried to move her body...but it was still out, the malnutrition, lack of sleep and exercise, finally had gotten to her. She just stopped all struggling, and just peaked over her enemy's shoulder, and just watched him fade in the little distance.

Tristan had looked at her as if he had never seen her before, and a bewilderment snuck up behind him as he noticed the way this woman looked at him. He was somewhat enlightened when he noticed a mark that circled around just above her hips. It was a tie to the woads...so obviously she was a woad. But she couldn't be looking at him in a dark way just because he was the enemy...because Gawain just scooped her up and she didn't put up a fret. So it had to be personal. He pondered upon it for a second, until he put two and two together. The markings...dark brown eyes filled with hatred and sorrow...he recollected his thoughts...and finally, came to a fault

'Well this is just a lovely little coinicdence' he thought sarcastically to himself.

He took one last glance at her, and as soon as his gaze met her flesh, the sight was immeadietly transported to that day on the battlefield, him being able to see her hurt expression once more in his head, and then finished with 'Yes, very lovely'.

That's it lovelys!

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