There Is Always Hope

[Maeve]

Maeve's journey had no end, until she was ready to return to her land, find comfort for some time, and then venture out in the world again when the fear of losing everything and everyone was too overwhelming. This had been her life for the past several years, and she had found no success. She would not let it discourage her, for she believed there was hope. Though she could not bear the thought of losing another of her kind. Their numbers used to be great and vast and were now diminishing at a far too rapid pace. It was cause for great concern, and this, her greatest fear, was why she roamed the earth seeking aid.

She was dressed in her regular attire, a hooded robe concealing her naturally pointed ears and a long dress underneath. She had reached the Forest of Balor; she could sense all the magic surrounding her, the different creatures of magic that she felt a strong connection with, even those who were a potential threat. No matter how dangerous some conceived these woods to be, she adored it. Appreciating the beauty of the land and finding something endearing in every leaf and every piece of grass.

She dismounted her horse when nearby a river, allowing Mirshann to quench his thirst. She gently put her hand on its neck and whispered in a soft voice. Yulna amin mellon. Ten' lye sal' an malle' e' ale'quel en' lye. She then stepped away from him, and began to sing to herself in a very soft, low voice. It was meant to calm and relax her horse, hoping that they would indeed get some rest after this tiring journey thus far.

~ Tag Lancelot du Lac ~

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Lancelot was in a great deal of pain. Looking down at his lower chest he could see the dark spot spreading slowly just above his stomach, which was caused by his of the blood slowly seeping from his wound. Actually, it marked on old wound, one which had been caused by the Griffin, when he had saved Merlin's life when Lance had originally come to Camelot. He had been in charge of escorting a new ward of King Theodred, of Wessex, when the knights had bee surprised on the road that ran parallel to the Forest of Balor, The territory was relatively unfamiliar to his men, and they had been surprised by the assault, so Lancelot, the Earl of Huntingdon, had quickly decided on the only course that seemed to have much chance of success.

Lancelot had quickly, and quite efficiently divided his force. A small group of guards acted as the escort to the ward of the King's coach, and they made for the next town with all possible haste. The larger grouping of knights, though had a disadvantage with the unfamiliar lay of the land and being outnumbered, launched an assault against the attacking party of bandits. He figured that it would both reduce their numbers and act to block their advance while the ward's coach sped away down the road.

This tactic and strategy was a successful one, in part, in that it slowed and stopped the bandits advance down the road. However, the force of knights, just due to their inferior numbers, were quickly overwhelmed and decimated. Lancelot himself had been fighting two of the marauders, when he had been outflanked and struck from the side with a dagger. Looking around, he saw that the coach had successfully slipped away, but the knights had been scattered, and he was alone, and badly wounded, as he decided to slip into the Balor Forest so that he could better protect himself. Fortunately, these woods he was familiar with, and he knew some cave where he could hide out. He just didn't know, as he sagged on his stallion's back, whether he would be able to make it very far.

[Maeve]

While Maeve did not physically see anything, she suddenly felt something. It was pain. Not emotional pain necessarily but the more dominant was physical pain. Pain and weakness. She looked around the area, the trees concealing any sort of sight of someone who could be the source of this. But that did not discourage her or force her to let it go. She was not that passive; she felt the necessity to do something, for she could have the power to help him.

Mirshann she said, quickly mounting onto the horse's back. She leaned forward, whispering into the horses' ear. Enkanu yassen seere And with those words, the horse rode off, knowing exactly where to go without her having to guide him. They shared that connection, and he did not fail to bring her to the man who was suffering. When she saw him, she dismounted from her horse once again, keeping her cloak up for the time being until she could get a better look at him.

His pain was so strong, she found herself holding back tears as she did not deal well with these kinds of emotions and qualities. She stood in front of the man on his horse, hoping to stop him in his path. She could see the red stain, slowing growing in size. When he was close enough to hear her, she began to speak. You are gravely wounded She was not pointing out the obvious, she was merely stating that she could clearly see it. Her voice was soft, but it held a genuine concern for him. She had never met the man, nor did she know who he was, but she still worried for him. Allow me to help you. She continued, in the same tone of voice.

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At least the ward had escaped, and he had enough knights to protect him adequately, Lancelot thought. Besides, the remaining knights, though wounded or killed, had delayed the marauders long enough for the coach to get some distance away. The damage that the knights had inflicted was probably substantial, enough, Lancelot considered, for any of them to venture off into the forest after him. The only thing was that he thought it possible that he might leave a trail of blood to track him by.

He knew that his short-term problem had probably been dealt with. However, he knew that unless he stopped or reduced the flow of blood he would have difficulty surviving the wound that he had been given.. It was not an immediately threatening wound, he thought. It did not appear that any vital organs had been pieced, but the loss of blood, if not slowed enough could end up being fatal. First things first, he thought to himself. He knew he couldn't make it all the way to someplace like Camelot, but the first item of business was to get away from the main road and deeper into the Forest.

He exited the first line of trees and moved out of the adjoining thicket before breaking out into a small clearing. Directly ahead he saw a woman. Who was she? Was she associated with the band of marauders that they had just battled? He did not have time for these types of questions. especially as the pain grew and welled up from inside him. For some reason he did not sense that she had aggressive intentions toward him. However,m she did move her horse directly across his path, as if she was trying to stop him. Finally she spoke, but her speech seemed to indicate that she was not threatening toward him, and she asked him a question. "What can you do to help me .... can you stop the flow of blood or replace the quantity I have already lost," he said somewhat sarcastically.

[Maeve]

Maeve did not understand the people of this realm. They were so angry, and aggressive. In her home, there was rarely any hostility for they resolved things through peaceful manners....but here. It was very different. Just as now, when she offering a man aid, he responded with sarcasm. It did not make her feel angry or frustrated towards him. But rather, it made her feel sad. Sad that people here spoke so easily with cruelty and automatically reject the very notion of help.

Despite his rudeness, she was not about to give up. I fear that you do not have a choice. For it will be many, many miles before you reach anywhere with civilization that can offer you medical aid for your wound. Her voice was soft, but still able to be heard. She began to walk towards him, so that she was now standing at the side of him, while he was still mounted on his horse. Her voice did have that concern; it did not diminish even if she found him to be a bit impolite.

Please, she said, offering her hand to him to help him get down from the horse. It seemed that she would have to plead with him to help him, something else she found odd about this land. No one did anything for free, nor did they accept anything without the paranoia of the person having ulterior motives. But still. She would not hesitate, not even for a moment to help this man even if it was risking her very life by practicing magic so openly. Thankfully, no one else was around, otherwise she would feel the presence of someone else. Yet, she knew nothing about this man and he could hold a high status who was one of the many people condemnding magic.

[Deleted]

Normally Lancelot did not like to be the suspicious and the cynical sort. However, her appearance so soon after the battle was difficult not to question. Lancelot was already feeling a bit light-headed from the loss of blood and the shock that was setting in from the wound. Could he put off any offers of aid at this point, he wondered. She, for her part, did not seem to be put off or dissuaded by his lack of friendly or accommodating words. In fact, she seemed even more determined to assist him.

She was now next to his horse, and he noted that her voice had a soft, almost hypnotizing quality to it. He had not been the most welcoming to her advances of aid he knew. Still, her voice had a reasonableness that was becoming difficult for him to resist. "Yes ..... you may be correct there. I fear that any aid is at some distance. However, i think that luck has been with me so far. First, in allowing me to escape, and second, to be given your offer of aid. My apologies, mademoiselle, I am Lancelot, Earl of Huntindon, and knight in the kingdom of Wessex, but formerly of Camelot."

Despite all of his resistance thus far, she held out her hand to him in a further offer of aid, which he found to be quite remarkable, given his recent circumstances out on the road, and what had befallen many of his comrades. He knew now that he was in a severely weakened state and that there was little that he could have done to fight off any new attacks at this point. He was, therefore, putting little at risk by accepting her hand and her offer of assistance. He took her hand, as he slid from Sher-Fore's back, and felt a strange surge of energy wash over him as fell to the ground. He could now feel the sharp and cutting pain in his side, as he waled with her. "I thank you for your generous offer, mademoiselle, but I am at a loss to understand what assistance that you will be able to provide," he pondered out loud.

[Maeve]

She listened to him introduce himself and then apologize. She was glad that he had; and now having felt guilty for judging him so quickly. He was in pain, tired, and weak. It was understandable for him to be a bit short with people. She just hoped the wounds were not too deep and that she could cure him here, for she was not sure she could take him back to her realm. Though she sensed nothing overly violent about him, it was still a huge risk.

I am Maeve, she introduced, as she helped him from the horse. She did not respond to his other words. Instead, he was questioning how she would help which was indeed a legitimate question, but it was far too a complicated thing to explain in words and therefore, more easily demonstrated through action. Save your strength Sir Lancelot, she told him in a calming voice. Please, lie down. she said, motioning for him sit up, leaning against a tree trunk that they were near.

[Deleted]

He slid down from Sher-Fore's back as slowly and carefully as I could. Despite the fact that this woman was trying to help him move as best as she apparently could, the pain became quite obvious to him. It was fortunate, he considered, that his horse, the Arabian stallion, had come through the scrape with nary a scratch on its fine coat. As his feet touched the ground he leaned on Sher-Fore, as he rested for a moment, relying on the fine animal for support. At least he would have some company, he thought.

He was glad, himself, that he had changed his tone with her. She seemed to have been pleased as well, as she introduced herself. "Maeve? For some reason that name seems to be familiar from somewhere, but I can't place it. It is a fin-sounding and pretty name, though." He was indeed appreciative of her attention, but he still wondered what she would be able to do. If they were not able to stop the bleeding he knew that he would not be conscious for much longer, let alone alive. "Lie down? .... yes .... yes .... as you wish ..... makes sense," he said as he sat down heavily, leaning back against the tree trunk.

[Maeve]

Thank you She said in a soft, gently voice. She thought it very kind of him to use what little breath he had on paying polite compliments regarding her name. When he was well enough engage in a less than strenuous conversation with her, then she would inquire as to where he thought he recognized her name. She had to admit that with doing this, she was very nervous, very unsure of what his reaction would be as she was risking word of her abilities spreading throughout Albion. But, she could not stand by and let a man die just because she was fearful of the consequences. Her beliefs would not allow her to do this.

She helped him lie down, but still had him sit in an upright position. She gently touched his forehead and closed her eyes, searching for the wound that violently affected him. Was it something she could heal right now? Yes. Thankfully it was and she would not have to take him to the healer in her world. She was not sure if she was ready to take that much of a risk, and fortunately, would not have to discover if she truly would.

Aa i' luth en' i' faerie phreng fallan ilya i' jivvviim tanya mhaor llie She began to speak in a whispered voice. She felt her strength draining from her, yet filling him, as she silently used the power she had within her to seal the wound that had caused so much bleeding in him, and restore his health. Aa ta llie dost ol She prayed this was working, but could not yet open her eyes as she was too deep in concentration to risk in-completing this healing process.

[Deleted]

"You are quite welcome, mademoiselle." She had the voice of one who wanted to heal, he thought. It seemed like one whose possessor wanted to bring together, and to heal. It was soft and somewhat hypnotizing he considered. She was not one who sought to ask questions. It did not seem that she was searching for information. She was not pushy or aggressive. She seemed to be someone that would not seem likely to take side. At least she did not seem to be physically aggressive like the bunch that he and his fellow knights had just tangled with

He was not one who very willingly took the help of others. As a knight, he thought that his role was to offer it, not take it. So, rather begrudgingly he took the hand that she offered as assistance. At least she was not having him lie down on the ground, prostate. At least he preserved some of his honor and self-respect as she allowed him to lean back against the tree. He could feel her eyes passing over him, as if she was determining what healing he would need, just by an external evaluation.

As soon as he was settled he began to hear unintelligible chant in a language that he did recognize. He wondered if was related in any way to the practices of magic that King Uther had banned so many years before. It sounded like some dialects of what he assumed was the old language and religion. In many was it was similar to the language that the Druids used, he thought. One thing that he noticed, right off, was the fact that he seemed to be growing stringer, and yet, it seemed to be draining her strength the longer the ritual went on. He had no desire to hurt her, even if the result was beneficial to him. "Do not injure yourself on my account, milady," he said as he placed one of his hands on her arm.

[Maeve]

He was so very kind! During his state of weakness and injury, he was concerned about her well being. Such nobility was not as common as it has once been. She opened her eyes, and softly smiled at him, taking her other hand and placing it over his. Do not fear for me dear Lancelot. You are wounded, and must use your strength to heal yourself. His genuine concern only helped her reaffirm her decision to have helped him, and done such a risky task.

She closed her eyes once again. The words were spoken, but now it was time to see if the effect and the energy she used, was in setting in. He would lose no more blood, but how much had he lost already? Aa' llie inbau poldora n'alaquel She said it once, and continued to whisper it under her breath. It was getting almost desperate, and she was putting more and more healing energy into this process. Do you feel any different? She asked, her eyes still closed though her English spoken words were directed to him. The healing process was not instantaneous. She could men the wound, but it would still take some time for him to recover. Thankfully though, his injures were not exceedingly serious. Just serious enough to call for immediate attention but not such that they would consume his life.

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It was suddenly clear to Lancelot that she was using some kind of magic to try and heal him. He was familiar, at least a little bit, with some of the magic that Merlin had performed. This was different, though, he thought. This involved healing, and it seemed that she was taking on some of the pain and the wound herself. He was not inherently opposed to the use of magic, if it was being used for good purposes, of course. "But .... it won't harm you will it? I could not abide the harming of innocent life, even if it meant the preservation of my own."[/i][/b]

He realized a couple of things. First, he had interrupted her in whatever she was trying to do, slowly down the whole process. Second, he was not going to be able to dissuade her from what she was trying to do. He didn't suppose that his wound was that bad, although he understood that it was possible hat he could have eventually bled to death without proper medical attention. he heard her say those strange words out loud and then listened as she whispered them. He felt his side begin to feel strangely tingle, and then to have some kind of pleasant warming sensation. As the moments passed he found it easier and easier to breathe as well. he nodded his head yes in response to question and flashed her an uneasy smile. "Thank you for all you are trying to do for me. I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you. Why did you decide to help me and how did you decide that I needed help in the first place?"[/i][/b]