Chapter Five: Innocent Yet Tainted

Sometimes she wondered what it would be like to fly like Tristan's hawk. She was almost certain that it would be paradise to just escape whenever and wherever she wanted. To just soar in the majestic sky. To forget everything whilst being carried in the arms of the wind. It would be true freedom, to fly. She was sitting at the edge of a pond inside of the wall. The water glistened under the light of the sun and Tristan's feathered friend was gliding amongst the clouds for a bit of fresh air.

Her trance was broken when the sound of soft steps crept from behind her. It must be Guinevere, she thought, come to check up upon her. She turned around to greet her, but it turned out that Alyanne was wrong. To her utter surprise, it was a little boy. He looked shy and frail. She had never seen this boy before, but on second thought, she had not been in the wall for that long a time either.

"Hello." Alyanne quietly called out to the boy, trying to peak underneath to get a glimpse of his face, still he tried his best to hide it from her by keeping it down and parallel with the ground. "May I ask for your name my Lord." She whispered to him.

"Lucan." He spoke softly, fainter than even her voice. Upon realizing that Alyanne didn't hear him, Lucan spoke up a little louder, though still a whisper. "Lucan."

"Hello Lucan." She spoke to him, smiling for the little boy, though her smile never reached her gray eyes. "I am Alyanne."

"The King sent me here." He again spoke softly, raising his head slightly. The boy gave a shy smile. Apparently, he was not one to approach strangers, especially a mysterious lady he had never seen before. Upon seeing her sweet smile, he moved a few steps closer, cautious not to get too close.

"The King sent you." She affirmed, for his voice was so soft and hushed that even she had a hard time hearing his words. From what she could tell by the boy's actions, he was afraid of her. She would be too if she was in his place. It was never easy to come up to a person you had no prior acquaintance to.

"Yes my Lady." He nodded.

"Do you know why?"

"No my Lady." He shook his head.

"I see." This boy was amusing. It had been long since she had been in the presence to a child. She did like children; it was just that children were usually taken away from the Lake to safety. It was a place too dangerous to raise any child.

"Are you still sick Lady?" He asked in his shy tone, still standing in front of her, now much closer. He seemed to have reduced in tension, but was still present.

"Who told you I was sick?" She asked, surprised about the nature of his question. Did she still appear frail? Was she pale or clammy? Did she still stumble when she walked? She had thought she had hidden that fact quite well, but the eyes of this child noticed her apparent weakness.

"Everyone." Was she now the topic of common gossip? She did not want to think of it in that way. Maybe the had warded the children away so she can have piece and quiet. God knows how she needed that the last few days.

"Can you keep a secret Lucan?" She leaned closer to the child, whispering in his ear. She was not as cold and foreboding as people thought. She was distant on occasion, but she was not cold. She could never have it in her heart to be heartless, no matter what woe her life brought her.

"Yes Lady." He whispered back. He was still a little guarded, but he had a small and faint smile in his face right. Alyanne took it as a sign that he liked keeping secrets. Secrets were a wonderful thing. To be told them implied that one trusted you. To be trusted was a wonderful feeling. But then again, secrets were also burdens. That, she knew well.

"Good." She smiled at the boy. "You see Lucan, I am stillsick, but I don't want the Queen to know. If she found out, she'll lock me back in my room." Guinevere was a stubborn woman by nature. When she thought it best, she would see to it that it would be done. Alyanne was not released from her room for days after her fever. She was significantly weakened by it, but did not want to lay on her bed in idleness. She was Woad. Such reactions to stagnation were to be expected.

"You were locked in your room?" The boy gave a surprised look at her. The innocence of children was refreshing to her. To a child's eyes, being locked in a room was one of the most horrid things to be experienced. They were still ignorant of all the terrible things the world had to offer.

"Yes."

"Did you do something bad?"

"No. I was…I was just sick."

"I get locked in my room when I do something bad." He sat down on her skirts. His eyes were opened wide with interest. He wrinkled his nose in clear distaste of the punishment. Lucan hated being up in his room, sitting with nothing to do. He wanted to go to the stables and help Jols with the horses. He liked taking care of the horses.

"Well, it is a terrible punishment isn't it." She laughed a little at the expression on Lucan's face.

"Aye Lady. Very terrible."

"Do you do bad things often?" He seemed like a very kind and quiet child. Such children were not sent to their rooms often.

"No Lady. Only sometimes, but it is always Eight who does the bad things."

"Eight?"

"Sir Bors' and Vanora's son." He nodded. Eight was a horrid child. He always pushed him in the mud or tugged on his hair. He didn't like being bothered but he did not know when to leave him alone. Lucan had tried telling Eight to stop, but to no avail.

"Yes. I remember. Are you their son as well?" She asked. She had only met Bors and Vanora once, but she could distinctly remember them telling her about their dozen children. Goodness gracious! A dozen children have been a handful to care for. She always just imagined herself having four children, two boys and two girls. But life had other plans.

"Now I am. But…" Lucan hesitated for a while, having a care on what he would say. "Can you keep a secret Lady?"

"I will do my very best." She smiled earnestly at the child. She delighted at the thought that she would trust him.

"Good." He smiled. Lucan cupped his hands and whispered in her ear. "Well, they are not my real parents. I have no parents." He said as if it were an every day matter.

"All have parents Lucan." She looked at him.

"No Lady. I have none. I only had Dagonet. Before him, I had no one." He shook his head, as if determined in the belief that he had no parents. How could a child believe such a thing? Then again, he was under the Roman's horrible rule.

"Dagonet?" She tilted her head slightly. She had heard of such a Knight being mentioned before. At that first night that she stepped foot on the Wall, she heard Guinevere say his name, and that he fell on the icy waters of the Lake. She knew nothing else of the man. But she did know the slaughter that happened.

"Yes Lady. He used to be one of King Arthur's knights before he fell through the Lake."

"I see. My people say that being buried in the Lake is an honor reserved only for heroes." She explained. Twas true that only heroes could float on the Lake. The Lake was a part of the Earth. It was her very blood and life. For a man to be accepted in the Lake to be directly one with the Earth was a great honor. On the harsh winter of that faithful day, when Lucan's knight fell to the depths, hundreds of Saxons also drowned, but as soon as it was safe to come out, her people fished each and every one of their tainted bodies and burned them. No filth would every sully the blood of the Earth. "Your Dagonet must have been a great hero."

"He was Lady. He saved me from the wicked men." he said in a quieter tone.

"Wicked men?"

"Aye Lady. The ones who made the Queen cry."

"Ah." At that instant, she knew that the evil men were those in the villa past the mountains. She knew of that place and had heard horrifying stories about it. The moment she learned that Guinevere had been taken into their darkness, she lost all hope. She could not urge the men she no longer commanded to rescue her kindred friend only because it was imprudent to do so, and even Guinevere herself would give her quite a thrashing if it ever happened. For the Woads, the sacrifice of one life was better than the slaughter of many. "You know I come from a Lake."

"Truly?" the boy sounded very interested.

"Aye."

"Then you must be a hero too."

Her eyes saddened at the boy's declaration. "No. I am no hero Lucan." She was no hero. Heroes did not run away from their tribulations. Heroes did not hide and cower at the very moment when they could brazen out their qualms.

"Well, Sir Lancelot told me that you…"

"Sir Lancelot?" She was surprised upon hearing the name the boy had just avowed. Lancelot? The dark one. She had not expected him to know anything about her. She kept to herself, mostly alone, and if she was to be found in another's company, it would most definitely be the silent scout. And yet it was this Lancelot, the man she had foremost seen upon opening her eyes that first day, he was the one who told stories about her to this curious and spirited little boy. Alyanne certainly did not know what to think of it.

"Aye Lady, Sir Lancelot. Did I say something wrong?"

"No child. Go on."

"Well, Sir Lancelot told me that you were a great commander from the North, who killed lost of Saxons to protect your people. So…I guess that means you must be a hero then."

"That was a long time ago Lucan. A very Long time ago." To be known as the slaughterer of Saxons was not a reputation that she was proud of. She hated the smell of blood. She hated the echoes of screaming and torture. She hated being called the Lady of the Lake if it meant that she was expected to mercilessly kill sons, fathers, uncles, friends. She had not a choice in the way her life played out, but it was for the people of the Lake for which she continued to live such a loathsome life.

"Well, Sir Lancelot tells me that no one stops being who you truly are. So that must mean that even you can't stop being a hero."

"It seems that you talk to Sir Lancelot all the time, don't you?" She attempted to change the matter under conversation. She no longer wanted to dwell in the subject of heroes and escaping one's self. She was grateful that the boy bit the bait she had laid out for him. He quickly accepted the new topic as if the previous had not even been brought up.

"Aye Lady. I talk to all the Knights. They take care of me now."

"What do you talk about?"

"Well I talk about a great many things with Sir Lancelot, almost everything. I always joke around with Sir Gawain and Sir Galahad. And with Sir Tristan…well I have never really talk to him, but I talk with his hawk and he lets me pet her. I live with Sir Bors and Vanora so we talk a lot too. The King is very smart. I ask him questions all the time. The Queen, I help her when she needs me and she tells me stories about the Knights sometimes and about the Woads. But she hasn't been able to since she stopped being the Lady Guinevere and started being the Queen."

"You care for them a great deal."

"Aye Lady. They are my family." Lucan was wise to know that he had a family with him with in the walls of the fort. He knew what he had and did not dwell on what he had lost. She envied his optimism and disposition. But thus were the inherent gifts of a child's innocence, to be tainted by life's ill-fated circumstances, and yet still manage to move on and revel in the comfort provided by those left with him.

"May I ask something of you Lucan?"

"Anything Lady." Came his earnest reply.

"Will you come and talk with me too?"

"Can I really?" He seemed excited by the idea of having someone other than the Knights to spend his time with. No. Maybe it was the elation at the thought of having another friend to keep him company.

"Of course. If you want I can tell you stories. I don't know anything about the Knights, but I do know my Woad stories."

"Can you tell me one now?" How could she resist such a request?

-o-

Lancelot was in the shop, sharpening his swords. The battle in Badon Hill had dulled them to a significant extent that he could no longer put off the task. It had been an hour since he had first entered the room, and within that hour, he felt a pair of eyes staring at him. Lancelot knew it was peace time, and that it would be pure folly to think that the presence was dangerous, but there was only so much scrutiny that a man could take before he would have it cease. He stopped for a moment and laid one of his swords at his feet. He stood up and stirred the fire with a poker.

"Whoever it is, come out from the shadows."

"You have a good eye on you Knight." A voice came from within the shadows. The voice of a woman filled the air around him. He turned around to see where she had been hiding. She came out, slowly and benevolently. She walked barefoot, despite the ground was cold. She had flaxen hair, running wild and loose about her. Her face was that of milky alabaster. Her eyes as blue and clear as the crystal water in the sea. He had not seen her in the fort not once. Odd. Hers was a face he would normally glance at more than twice.

"Well, one must have a good eye to see all the things on a battlefield and come out alive. I must thank my lucky stars that I have two." He said in retort. As he sat back on the barrel of hay he was on earlier.

"Alert and with a sense of humor. I would have thought that your kind be dead by now." She smiled at him as she sat opposite Lancelot. There was something familiar about this woman. How she spoke, how she walked, how she carried herself. Lancelot felt as if he had been in such a conversation before. Such a sharp wit was not easily forgotten, especially by him.

"Who are you Lady and why do you watch me?" he lifted his eyes from his task and looked directly into hers. He spoke as kindly and as courteously as he could. He did not want to scare the Lady off, but he wanted answers as well.

"Why so forward sir Knight? Do you not believe in charming a lady before asking such things?" She laughed. This woman had a melodic quality in her laugh. Almost like a nightingale's song. It was soft, warm and inviting, just like her. Lancelot's curiosity only grew with each minute she took in her merriment.

"I do, but such formalities are forfeited when one of the parties has spied on the other for a good period of time." He pointed out knowingly. There was no formally written rule on such discourses, but he liked to think that there were some in existence. Besides, such a rule would be practical and rational in more ways than one.

"I am the Guinevere's cousin, Elaine."

"Now that wasn't so hard now was it?" He spoke with a smirk on his face. Now he knew why her charisma was so familiar. Everything about her was Guinevere, or at least a close similarity to the Queen. Elaine. Guinevere had never mentioned her in any of their conversations, but it was not as if they had known each other long enough to be acquainted in such a way that there was never anything new to find out anymore.

"Oh you have no idea." Elaine gave a smirk of her own. She observed the room. She took it in, felt it. She laughed to herself in gaiety for reasons Lancelot remained oblivious to. "So, why would a dashing man such as yourself be spending his precious, solitary time alone with none but a sword? Have the ladies of this fortress kicked you out from their beds already?"

"Quite the opposite exactly. I needed a rest before continuing on with the day's events. But you are being evasive my Lady, you have yet to answer my question. Why do you follow me?" The girl had quite the tongue on her. She was an eager banter to be certain.

"Is it forbidden in this new order for a maiden to roam around as she pleases?" Elaine raised an eyebrow at the Knight before her. She was enjoying this discourse from what he could see, and to be honest, he was as well.

"No, it is not forbidden. But when that maiden follows a Knight around, that can certainly be grounds for suspicion."

"But is it not merely coincidence that we both enter the exact same place at the exact same time?" She masked herself in innocence, but she could bite the head off a man if she wanted to. Lancelot had never met such a woman, only Guinevere, but even she was not as lively as this young woman. Guinevere was light hearted to be certain, but she was easily exasperated, thus lessening the allure of aggravating her.

"It would be a coincidence, were it not for the fact that you concealed yourself to watch me from within the shadows."

"You amuse me sir Knight." She laughed openly, not hiding her glee. He could tell that she was an innately open person, one who barely hid secrets, and could not keep her thoughts to herself.

"I am glad to be of service." He slightly rose from his seat and gave a mock bow towards her.

"You must be the one they call Lancelot."

"So must I now add clairvoyance to the growing list for suspicion?"

"There is no need for that. I simply recognize you from Guinevere's letters. The one who can't help but flirt with unsuspecting women, as I recall." Ha. So Guinevere told stories of him. This was not to be expected. But, the description was not entirely accurate. It had long been since he was so promiscuous and cavalier in his dealings with women. He had grown tried of it after a while. One could only amuse themselves as such for so long before finally realizing how lacking it truly was. It took him more than a decade to discover this fact, but as the old saying went, it was better late than never.

"Who said anything about flirting?"

"Actions speak far louder than words my Lord." She pointed out to him as she stood and made her way towards the door. He did not know what made her leave so suddenly, but did not want to stop her from going where she desired. Besides, the smithy was no place for a lady to be gallivanting in anyway. Lancelot was almost allowing her to leave when he remembered an inquiry that had yet to be satisfied.

"You still haven't answered my question. Why are you following me?" he called out to her. Elaine had already opened the door and was on the other side. Luck had been on his side when she had yet to close it. She stopped opportunely , only her glistening sapphire eyes could be seen now.

It was as if he could see her smirk the way her eyes lit up. "As I said sir Knight, actions speak far louder than words." With that she closed the door, leaving an amused Lancelot back in the company of none but his swords.

-o-

"Another one! Another one!" Lucan shouted with delight. Alyanne had been telling him the stories she had recalled from her childhood, those of magical islands, beautiful maidens and valiant warriors. He received each tale with more enthusiasm than the last. She felt as if she could have written an entire book with all the stories she had told the little boy.

"I am afraid I have told you all that I can think of at the moment. I can't think of anymore." She laughed at herself.

"Surely you must know more my Lady."

Lucan could be very persuasive when he wanted to be. After all, he was but a little boy who could wrap his elders around his fingers. "Please." That did it. Alyanne could not refuse such a request. His eyes pleaded more than his tongue ever could. She conceded to his appeal and tried to think of more stories he could tell him. Suddenly, one more yarn made its way into her mind. It was one of her favorites. "Well… Have you ever listened to the wind?"

"I don't think so Lady. Only when it howls at night because it scares Ten and Eleven."

"There was once a woman. She was the pride and joy of her father's eyes. At her birth, she had been blessed by the village elder with the voice of a nightingale. She sang with velvet smoothness that all who heard her simply cried at the shear beauty of it. Many men fell in love with her voice for it was as if angels sang to them as she sang. But, none ever took the time to look into what was within her. All that they could ever notice was her harmonious voice. She rejected each and every one of them, conceding to herself that she would lead the rest of her days alone." She spoke softly as Lucan listened with intent.

"Then what happened?"

"She was sitting in the garden, singing her melancholy song, when a young man approached her. She had thought him to be another one of her numerous, shallow suitors, so she bid him take his leave."

"But he wasn't, was he?" The boy spoke as if he knew a secret that none else knew about.

"You are clever." She smiled kindly at him. "You are right; he was not one of the many suitors. He was, in fact, deaf. He could not hear a word that had come out of her mouth. He could not hear the alluring sound of her voice. He had only come to her, because he thought she looked lonely. He came because he wanted to wipe the tears from her eyes. Do you know what happened next?"

"They married each other, like Vanora and Bors." He giggled.

"Close, they fell in love."

"Is it not the same thing?" Lucan looked confused at the contrast he had just heard. To him, love was the same as marriage. If you fell in love, you got married. That was what he saw in the fort so he knew not otherwise.

"It is more often than not, but there are times when life surprises you and changes its course." Those who fell in love sometimes may not end up in the idyllic bond of marriage. Every so often, life does not allow it to be so.

"Oh, alright. Please go on Lady."

"Alright. Well, they were happy, but it was all cut short when the man was called to protect their village against invaders."

"Like the Saxons and the Romans." There was fear in his voice.

"Yes. Like the Saxons and the Romans. They fought until the very end and won…"

"Yay! They lived happily ever after!"

"I wish it turned out like that."

"You mean they don't?"

"No dearest. They don't. The young man was killed by the enemy. Though the girl saw the foe coming, she could not warn him because he could not hear her."

"Ohhh…" he looked severely saddened by the outcome of the story.

"She saw his body. He was near death. She kneeled beside him and sang softly to him."

"But he could not hear her."

"Yes. He could not hear her song, but he could feel it. He could feel every note coming out from her melodious voice. The girl died the very moment his heart stopped beating. She could not bear the pain of losing the only one she loved. But you know what?" She spoke in addition. The tale did not end as sadly as one would think. There would be something good to come out of such tragedy.

"What?" The look of hope flickered in his eyes.

"The Earth took pity on her. As she died beside her beloved, the Earth bled for her sorrow and formed the Lake in the North."

"The Lake where you come from?"

"Aye. And the woman's voice, the Earth thought it too beautiful to fade into nothing, so she took it and placed it in the wind to carry throughout the entire world, for those who are willing to listen to it."

"So the sound of the wind is the maiden's song?"

"Yes. Yes it is."

Lucan paused a moment. He closed his eyes shut and his brow furrowed in concentration. He sat like that for some time before finally opening his eyes, his face carrying the look of defeat. He seemed disheartened. "I can't hear it."

"Maybe you just haven't found the right way of listening yet."

"Can you hear it?" He asked as he tugged her skirts. She smiled at him. This boy was a wonder in himself, the way his face could bring a smile to hers. She cleared his forehead of his unruly hair, to see his bright face.

"Yes I can. But it took a very long time for me to learn."

"Who taught you to listen Lady?" He asked, not knowing what credence his question had over her. She closed her eyes, and thought intently.

"Alyanne." He whispered carefully in her ear. The wind was blowing all around them, and yet she could not hear anything but the swaying grass. He was so patient in teaching her. She sometimes wondered if he ever grew tired of it. Whenever she asked him, he would just smile and kiss her forehead.

"It is no use Bragdon! I can not hear the song as you do." She spun herself in his arms and look deeply in his eyes. "The Lady of the Sweet Winds will not sing to me. I do not think she desires me to hear her."

He smiled at her, as he always would. He kissed her forehead, barely brushing his lips on her skin. He cupped her face with his large hand and he just stared at her with his piercing eyes "The Lady sings not to men's ears, but to their heart for that is the only part of them that can hear her song as her beloved did. You must not open your ears, but your heart instead."

Even then, he spoke with her so gently. She did not know why he was so with her. It was only her that he showed such a gentle side to. Others considered him distant, cold, but she knew him. She felt his warmth. Alyanne opened her eyes and shook her head. This was not the time for such memories. They would not haunt her in her wake. "That is a story for another time. Vanora must be looking for you. It is near dark."

"You are right my Lady!" He sprung up as quickly as he had sat and ran for their house. He watched her wave vigorously to her, as she in tern smiled.

"Goodbye Lucan." She waved back to him.

"Goodbye Lady. May I come again…tomorrow?" He turned around and shouted to her from across their distance.

"You can come any time you wish Lucan."

As soon as he was out of sight, she turned her back to the door that led to the courtyard. She walked closer towards the pond, wading in its cool waters that barely reached her ankles. Her eyes darkened at the presence that she felt behind her. She knew who it was. She had no doubt in her mind as to who owned those approaching footsteps.

"He is a very spirited boy." She spoke to the impending visitor. She was not so easily unnerved, but this person was all that took to make her feel so intimidated.

"Aye, he is." The approaching woman responded. Alyanne was more than certain who she was, but the voice made the realization of her identity far more existent to her. Such a voice was not normally heard from this woman's lips. She normally spoke with gentility; it was only to Alyanne that she spoke so coldly.

"How long have you been listening?"

"Just in time for that last story."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"I must say that it sounds familiar." Cold. She was so cold towards her, and yet Alyanne could not blame her for being so. There was more than enough reason for this woman to hate her the way she did. In Alyanne's mind, her odium was justified tenfold.

"Well you would know wont you? It was he that taught me how to listen."

"Indeed. He loved you, but just look where it got him?"

"Please Elaine." She now turned around to look at her. Elaine had changed since they had last seen each other. She could see her garbed in a Priestess's robes. It only meant that Merlin had finally finished her training. She now served the Old Ways. Ilyaren was closing in. Alyanne had no doubt that it was her task to perform it. There would be no other reason as to her coming.

"No. I will spare you nothing Alyanne. Nothing." She spat her venomous words. Her warm eyes were hardening like the winter's frost at the very sight of Alyanne. "You must suffer for what you have done."

"Don't you think I suffer? I am in agony everyday that has gone by without him." Alyanne spoke blankly. She did not want to shed her tears, not in front of Elaine. There was not one day that passed that she did not think of him, of how much she loved him, of how it was all her fault.

"It is not enough! The only thing that will satisfy me is to see your rotting corpse, may it be on or off the battlefield. It would be my life's pleasure to burn it and be certain that I will smile as your flesh chars in the embers."

"I loved him Elaine." She spoke with passion and torment. "Whether you chose to believe it or not, I loved him. I loved him with all my heart." Tears were threatening her eyes but she spoke not.

"No. No you didn't." Elaine stepped closer to her, wading her own feet at the water's edge. She looked at her murderously. Two summers had passed, but time could not quell the hate she felt. "You wouldn't have killed him if you did." She turned her back on Alyanne, retreating to the shadows from whence she came. Alyanne could feel the sting of her words. She was right. It was of her doing. He was dead because of her.

She walked mindlessly back to the water's edge and sat once more on the carpet of grass that lay before her. She stared blankly in to the sky, not noticing the setting sun and the rising moon.

Finished and updated just as I promised. It is all coming together isn't it! Haha! We are nearing the Night of Ilyaren with more and more questions about Alyanne's past being opened. But don't worry. All will be answered in time. This chapter, we also see a diffrent side to Elaine. She is innocent and kind to most, but when it comes to her own sister in law, we begin to think that she may not be who we deem her to be. Also, hope finds its way to her closed heart in the form of the boy Lucan. What bond forms between them and will it be enough to save her from the darkness of the shadows that are cast before her.
I hoped you liked this chapter! Please review and tell me what you think. I do love reviews. They make me smile :D

Rita