Note: So I've gotten a ton repeated hits and story alerts, So I suppose I should assume there's an interest among some readers, yes? I will be trying to make each update longer han these first 2 chapters—I felt like if I just tossed it all together the transitions would warrant quite a few "wtf?"s and the flow would be… awkward. So anywho, I R&R por favor, and I hope ya'll lovely people enjoy! 3
Raivierra's arm stretched wingspan-wise across Lancelot's chest, barring any movement from her rugged companion. She peered around the bend in the passageway, her left palm gratefully dropping from its place on the cold, slick stone wall. Torches along the wall partly illuminated the room with their flames' skittish dances. Her right hand crossed her body to draw the dagger at her hip—independent of her own consciousness. Not a single thing stirred. Not a thing drew breath, save for the still form locked in the far cell. She gave Lancelot a sharp nod and moved boldly into the room.
"I imagine they must be looking for the ass that sabotaged the kegs." She bravely raised her voice above a whisper. She felt a slight rush of air tickle her calves and knew Lancelot to be following her. "Oh, the madness I commit for you." she quipped, simultaneously returning her dagger to its scabbard.
"And I'd be nowhere without you." Lancelot conceded, though his tone read that his attention was elsewhere. Even as he lingered at a slower pace, his steps were heavier, jilting his chainmail tunic with each footfall. To her acute senses it rattled deafeningly. He had forgotten the essence of stealth.
And all for this 'Morgana'—wait. 'Guinevere' was her name. Lancelot had made a point of her being the serving girl to King Uther's ward. And Hengist had no clue? The clod couldn't even conduct a proper abduction? Pathetic.
"Lancelot?" came a gentle feminine voice. Sweet. Panicked. "Is that you?"
Lancelot jogged the remainder of the way to the far cell, easily overtaking Raivierra's slackened gait. "Guinevere." He responded breathlessly, now crouched before the cell, peering through its window. "I am here."
"I hardly believed my eyes…" the woman questioned through trembling lips. "Why are you here— how could you fall in with the likes of these men? You are far better than this!" Distress riddled her voice.
"I…" Lancelot's shamed voice followed Raivierra as she scouted the nearby stairwell. "There are few opportunities for men like me, my Lady. I know only to wield a sword… though well enough to earn a living, it seems." She heard him hesitate, "When I left Camelot—when I left you, I lost myself. I fell to nothing…" Those words stopped Raivierra in her tracks. He spoke some more, but the rest was muddled to her. Suddenly dazed, she leaned dejectedly against the cracked masonry and scoffed. Was that how he saw her? Nothing? A last resort?
"You are not nothing." Guinevere asserted. "And I refuse to believe that this is all you are meant to be. Your hopes and dreams-"
"I was dabbling in a fantasy world. Reality is something far different from that." At least Lancelot was smart enough to keep it to hushed tones. And sensible enough recognize that fact— even Raivierra was reluctant to do so.
Raivierra carefully picked her way back to Lancelot, numbly descending the steep stairwell. She stood at his side, watching for the slightest of movements that necessitate a quick getaway.
"I have thought of you often." Lancelot's deep voice ran thick with wonder when he spoke. Raivierra glanced over her shoulder at the kneeling man. Her eyes dusted his figure briefly, admiring his chiseled features. Her gaze lingered on his right hand, which was intertwined with Guinevere's—clasping each other through the bars of her cell. "Have you so much as thought of me?" Raivierra's eyes turned downward at his question.
"I… thought I would never see you again." Guinevere responded in kind, bringing her face close to the bars.
"Lancelot." Raivierra warned, dropping her hand to the man's broad shoulder. It seemed her presence had been forgotten until that moment. She drew it back sharply when the man shifted under her weight, looking questioningly up at her. "They're back."
Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor moments later. More than a few men, judging from the magnitude of the sound.
"I- we will get you out of here, Guinevere. I swear it." Lancelot's voice brooked with determination. He reluctantly turned away, rising and giving Raivierra a curt nod. "Best get on with it then."
As the two made haste in silence (as well as they could) for the stairwell from whence they came, the footsteps behind them quickened. "Someone's been here!" A guard (if you could call these brutes that) shouted in alarm.
Halfway up the staircase, there was no way in hell the pair would outpace them at this rate. From the corner of her eye, she saw Lancelot's hand go to the hilt of his sword. "No." Raivierra turned abruptly around and placed her hand over his. "You'll blow our cover if you start something now."
Lancelot struggled with her for a moment, but her grip was far stronger than he expected. "And if I don't, we're both dead."
The light of torches danced across the masonry now. She shoved him crudely back against the wall, keeping her grip on his hand with her other hand against his shoulder.
"What are you—" Lancelot started and his eyes widened, clearly bewildered.
Her eyes frantically searched his face as she wetted her lips, nervously glancing back towards the voices of their pursuers. Closing her eyes and running her tongue over her lips once more, she forcefully crushed them against his, leaning her weight against his frame. A sharp intake of breath. He was paralyzed for a moment; the poor man must've never have seen that coming. A slow exhale and she felt his free arm encircle her waist, pulling her to him. All thoughts dropped from her mind like the stones from her shoddy house. Her lips parted, his other hand moved to caress her neck, and their kisses deepened. She felt her body grow warm. Then searing hot.
"You've trespassed into… oh... well well well…" Hengist's men came upon the scene with none other than Kendrick leading them. Their initial stern expressions were replaced with smirks and smug looks.
Raivierra broke away, breathing heavily. Much to her content, Lancelot's eyes remained closed for a moment longer. She turned her head to face the new-comers, resting it casually under the crook of Lancelot's neck. She feigned a look of shock. The flush in her cheeks however, was genuine.
"Oh err, yes. Forgive us, but we were just looking for some… privacy" Lancelot's eyes were locked on Kendrick now, his voice husky when he broke his stunned silence.
"Priva—yes, and either of our quarters just seemed so damnably far." She noticed the man's Adam's apple bob with a thick gulp. "I just couldn't keep my hands off him." She confessed, raising a caressing hand to his chest.
"And such a beautiful woman!" He gripped her hips and rocked her against him convincingly. "Who am I to refuse?" Lancelot cleared the gravel from his throat and gave a hearty laugh.
Kendrick eyed the duo skeptically. He rubbed his chest subconsciously and looked back at his men, who leered and wore lewd smiles. Turning back to face the couple, he chuckled appraisingly and half-nodded at Lancelot. "Fortune smiles on you this day. You win your duel, your gold, and a comely wench for your bed." His lips twisted into a lascivious smirk upon turning his attention to Raivierra. "I could use a good roll once you're through with him."
"That won't be—" Lancelot started to protest, but Raivierra cut him off. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Good. Now continue this affair in your lodgings. Our boys are quick to violence… and we wouldn't want them getting the wrong idea from two shady characters trawling through our dungeon." Kendrick eyed Lancelot with a thoughtful look. That prospect alone was enough to turn Raivierra away. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.
"Of course." Raivierra offered a sly smile before detaching herself from Lancelot—save for keeping a hold of his arm, and ascended the stairwell with pressing strides. They were not followed. Thank God.
Initially the man struggled to keep up, stumbling over the steps and nearly taking her down with him. Once they were out of earshot, he was obviously still rattled when he spoke. "I um… that was—"
"A really close call?" Raivierra finished matter-of-factly for him, not bothering to look back at him. Not daring to reveal how flustered she truly was.
"Without a doubt." He quietly agreed. "But I meant on your part—a"
"It was quick thinking. And brilliant." She interrupted again. "The… concept." she clarified.
After all, it was nothing. Just as she.
... Right?