Into the woods, shadows grow deep (Lancelot)

[Faerydae Moriarty]

They seemed to have been walking forever, but that always appeared to be the case, but of course, that was the life of a nomad, endless walking with no real destination. Perhaps destination was a lie, and there truly was never a place where people were content with their lives, even home. Her mind wandered to that of Balor and how she did not miss it for the painful memories that settled there. She wondered of her old king for two seconds before shaking the thoughts out of her head. She had surprised those thoughts long before, why should they decide to come up now? Instead, the young maiden decided to preoccupy herself with following her feet instead, stepping inside the prints that her companion left behind him when he walked ahead of her. They shared a bond, her and that horse, something that she had not felt since Talberon. She used to think that when she lost somebody, that it left a hole in her heart that would never grow back.

Apparently, it does, slowly but surely, it heals and everything becomes better again.

She could not help but to smile at the thought now as she walked along the pathway still. As she walked, she handled a smooth stone to ease her boredom. Her eyes lingered to the back of the white horse now. He walked like a noble, if he were human; he might have been stuck up like a lot of the nobles around Albion. Although she did not know a lot of her horse, where he came from or whether he had been owned prior to this, she knew one thing and that was that he saved her life. In some ways, she still did not fully understand what made her wish to follow the white stallion four years ago when she was alone in the wood, but forever on, Faerydae Moritary would always be grateful for his passing through the woods at the right time. Something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye now and the young woman glanced towards the woods now. A frown rested on her lips, and she had been too preoccupied with her thoughts of what could be in there that she had practically run into Silver now who had stopped dead in his tracks.

Leaning slightly over, her gaze moved pass her horse to ahead of him, and she saw why the white horse had stopped. There were at least three dark horses and riders blocking the pathway now and they were staring at the white horse and his human now. There were more snorts and as she glanced over her shoulder now, Faerydae caught sight of three more riders coming up behind them, the men laughing. Her ice blue eyes simply stared at them for a moment, she saw no markings of knighthood, nor were they dressed in attire to be of noble birth, these men were simply common folk, and she and Silver, had blindly walked into a trap without even realizing it. As the men laughed at them, she watched as her horse’s ears flatten against his skull, already, sensing the danger that may come from this and Faerydae found her gaze wondering about the woods now, looking for an escape route. One of the men came forward now, a sly grin on his face, “Faerydae Moritary, from all the stories I hear of your betrayal to your kingdom, I would think you would be lonely traveling by yourself and longing for men.”

Anger flashed across her ice blue eyes, making them cold, “My lover is my horse,” she replied hotly, “I do not need the company of men any longer.” Laughter escaped the men even more and both she and Silver could feel them start to close in now, “Well, well. While we can be as brutal as horses, let us show you who we men please woman.” She glared at the approaching crowd now, and Silver snorted and tossed his head, making ugly faces at man and horse alike and the horses faltered for a moment before moving forward at their master’s wills, “You’ll have to catch me first,” she hissed and with one swift motion, she threw the rock. While not a noble throw, it got its point across and struck the lead man’s horse now. The stinging motion startled the horse, causing it to rear and spook the others and it was in the heat of this motion that Faerydae scrambled onto her white horse now and the moment the animal felt her seated, he rushed forward through the wall of horses and quickly turned into the woods and only a few short seconds after did the men and their horses follow now.

The woods were always Silver’s territory, it did not matter which woods they were in Albion so long as he headed towards the center of them. Usually men were too smart to brave that deep into the woods, but it seemed that was not the case for these men who enjoyed the chase, such as how a pack of wolves loved chasing down a doe. Faerydae glanced over her shoulder now as her hands gripped onto the white horse’s mane just as something went whistling by her face and she saw an arrow planted into a tree. They were shooting at them, “Run, Silver, you must run,” she encouraged the horse now who simply let out a loud snort and collected his gait now as he maneuvered himself around the trees and causing some of the other horses to trip up a little. The horses slowed down now and Silver was certain that they were save as he hurtled himself over a log, but what came next took by surprise.

It happen so fast, that the horse and his girl had hardly known what happened. There was a swoosh through the air before something hit Silver’s legs. Two balls connected by a heavy rope that had been thrown with such force hit the white horse’s hind legs in mid air. As the rope initially hit his right hind leg, the length of the rope as the metal balls swung caused the ratio to encompass his left leg as well and brought them together and tripped him up. Before he knew it, the white horse felt himself crash to the ground, throwing Faerydae in the process. She flew at least three feet before breaking her fall and sliding some, the forest ground tearing at her skin. The white horse himself trashed now, panic sweaping over the noble animal as he tried to kick his legs free but the weight only seemed to make the rope slid tighter over his legs now. After a moment, the young woman quickly scrambled to her feet and she rushed over to the horse now before dropping to her knees, “Don’t worry, I’m here.”

Pulling out a dagger now, she placed it under the rope and pulled upwards with the blade but down on the rope with her hands, staring to cause the rope to break. As it snapped, Silver quickly got up to his feet now and glanced back at her. The echoes of laughter could be heard now, and she knew that they were coming and were soon to be on them. Ice blue eyes glanced back at her companion now, “You must go without me, go find help,” she said as she got up to her feet. An odd sound escaped the horse and he shook his head, not wanting to leave her, “You’ll be faster without me, now go!” She yelled at him, and rushed at him, “Go!” She said as she smacked him on his hind quarters and Silver quickly bolted into the woods now, leaving her behind. Faerydae watched him flee but it was the men’s taunts that broke her back to reality, “Here pretty lady! Don’t you want to come out and play?! I'm sure an exiled Queen has a lot of time on her hands!”

She simply scowled at their words and picked up another rock and threw it as hard as she could towards the opposite ends of the woods. As it swooshed and hit some brambles, she could hear one of the men call out, “I heard something, of this way,” and quickly, Faerydae ran off in the opposite direction, stumbling through the tree’s uplifting roots as she saw a large tree ahead of her and rushed around to the other side of it. Pressing her back up against it, her finger nails were digging into the tree while her free had gripped tightly to the dagger she had, and tried to slow down her breath, “Please Silver…hurry,” She murmured. If there hadn’t been horses, everything would have been so much simply for the white horse for he could have defended them. Only now, Faerydae knew that she would have to count on his speed and hope that he could find somebody for they found her, “Why hello there,” came a voice that startled her and hands grabbed hold of her, “Hey boss, I found her!” A scream escaped Faerydae as she swung the blade at him but he simply grabbed hold of her other hand and pulled her off her feet and dragged her towards the others now as she struggled to break free.

Farther away from the scene now was the white horse as he raced towards the pathways now, hoping that he would find somebody along them. A wild whinny escaped him as he tossed his head, calling out to the woods and he quickly approached the pathways now and leaped out of the woods and stumbled right into somebody’s path. Startled the white horse reared and pawed the air before coming down, the earth seeming to groan at the horse’s weight as he tossed his head and back up towards the forest now, his amber eyes lingering on the stranger, hoping he would follow.

Setting: Season 2
Time of Day: Dusk
Tags: Lancelot Du Lac
Music: Towers of the Void - Red Riding Hood Soundtrack
Notes: I could not think of title, sorry it's a lame one!

[Deleted]

Of course the forests of Albion had become quite familiar to Lancelot, as he had wandered and explored through most of them over almost a decade since he had been uprooted from home at the age of 14. He felt different now, though. He had had a goal then, although it was probably unreachable. He just had not known it at the time. At the time of the assault by the raiders from the Northern Plains on his village, he had been apprenticed to a carpenter in a nearby village for 4 years. He had an interest in swordcraft, and in fact, had experimented with forging some crude swords, but his primary emphasis was always with the trade he was preparing for. He was good with wood, whether it was pure carpentry or more specialized forms of woodworking. However, that had all ended with the attack and its destruction. He had vowed that he would never be helpless in the face of such violence and aggression ever again.

He had left his apprenticeship at that tender age of 14, and fended for himself, and trained himself with the single sword that was then in his possession. He had a goal, though, and he strove to train himself, as well as to seek out guidance and training. He knew, if he was going to be successful that it would not only require knowledge of swordcraft, but knowledge of the Knight’s Code, and the etiquette and protocol of being a Knight. He would be happy, of course, if he was just able to serve some noble as a Knight, but what he had wanted was to be a Knight of Camelot. In the last few years, of course, he had heard stories of the prowess of the Crown Prince of Camelot, Arthur, which had attracted him even more. He knew that the Knights of Camelot had been formed by Uther Pendragon, King of Camelot, but whenever he thought of the Knights of Camelot he thought of Arthur, and not his father, Uther. That had been his dream, anyway, to not just be a knight, but a special type of Knight.

He had known in his heart, when he had made his way, finally, to Camelot, that his journey to become a Knight of Camelot had ended, unsuccessfully. He thought now, in retrospect, that he had pursued the goal so long that he could not give up on its pursuit so easily. He had allowed Merlin to convince him that the deception of his Seal of Nobility only got him entrance to the competition, and that he would sink or swim on his own merits. At first it had worked. However, he should have known that it would come out at some point, and he would be disgraced, and that was just what had happened. And even though he had successfully killed the Gryphon, with Merlin’s help, he knew that he would have to leave, and try and prove himself elsewhere. He should have known that it would not be so easy, since kings and other nobles would seek to draw their knights from the noble classes. Fighting men such as himself, Lancelot had soon found, were employed to entertain and to die, before the Knights might be committed to battle. They were merely expendable fodder.

He had sunk to these depths of self-pity, with little thought of rising again to compete for a position of Knight, that he had seen Morgana’s maidservant being held captive in Hengest’s castle. He had almost thought that he had failed once more when Arthur and Merlin suddenly appeared, and once again with the assistance of Merlin’s special gifts, the four had escaped. At first, he had thought about returning to Camelot with them. However, the more he thought on it the more he realized that his personal situation, as seen by King Uther, was not going to change, and that his destiny did not lay on the same path as his three friends. He no longer had the goal or dream of becoming an ordinary knight, let alone a Knight of Camelot, and he slipped away during the night from the camp that they had set up, with only Merlin possessing the knowledge that he had left and generally why he had left. He struck out at a steady pace, on his Arabian stallion, into the Balor forest, really quite depressed, without much incentive or goal, except to make it through another day.

His mind, being so occupied on his own troubles, as hetraveled slowly through the wood, did not pay attention to the company of men, bandits, who were slowly but steadily surrounding him. Finally, at the last moment, he recognized what was happening, and took to the offensive while he could. He quickly cut down seven of the eight, but was severely wounded in the back by the leaded of the group, before Lancelot was able to cut him down. Fortunately, a young maiden happened across him, and nursed him back to health, repairing the damage that the bandit’s sword thrust had done to his upper back. Though he had lost much blood he recovered, and made his way to Inn at the edge of the forest, where he stayed for a time, entertained by a barmaid that he suspected was actually a noble in disguise. After a short time there, though, Lancelot, decided it was time to move on and he headed back, slowly, into the Balor wood.

Lancelot, having been a nomad, familiar with the forests of Albion, was quite familiar with the natural sounds of insects, of animals, and of birds, that were found there normally. As a result he was made aware when things were not as he would expect them to be. The forest itself was suddenly a deathly quiet, as all of the natural woodland sounds that should be present, were now suspiciously absent. What Lancelot could here, though, was the raised voices of men in the distance, and what sounded like the whistling noises of arrows flying through the air. Lancelot and his horse’s pace had been a plodding one along the forest path, but now he torn Sher-Fore toward the sound of apparent combat. Within moments he heard the crackling and snapping noise of twigs and branches being broken by the weight of a rapidly moving animal. Suddenly a noble white beast appeared before him out of nowhere, and he saw through its head movement and the wild look in its eyes that it wanted Lancelot to follow.

He took his bow out, and made it ready, as he followed behind the white horse as he followed it through the under-brush. They had not travelled far when he saw an indeterminate number of men, the vast majority on one side of the clearing, and one man who was man-handling a fair-complected and fair-haired woman of considerable and striking beauty. There was no doubt in his mind that the horse and the woman were connected. He also only had to listen to the sneering words of her assailant and the other men ahead of him what his knightly duties commanded him to do. He must come to the aid of the lady against those who were seeking to harm her. Quickly drawing his bowstring back he dropped her assailant with a strike to the center of his back. He did not have to give her horse any verbal commands for it to go to her aid …. It went of its own accord.

Lancelot was well aware with the sun now setting behind him, at dusk, he had several advantages. The rest of the men he had a clear view of and a clear field of fire, while they were blinded by the setting sun. They could not see his arrows now until they were about to strike them, as it would appear that they were being launched out of the sun itself. Likewise, he, and he hoped the woman, could easily melt back into the depths of the Balor wood. First, however, it would be necessary to decimate the remaining men, which he did within the space of the next 15 seconds, when he fired four arrows and three of them found their targets, cutting the men down, the others, at first reluctantly, then rapidly retreated from the field of battle. He maintained a covering fire of arrows, keeping the men busy, if they did not retreat fast enough, to allow her to mount the white horse, and escape, at least temporarily, those who attacked her. Running short on arrows in his quiver, Lancelot began to slowly back his horse into the wood making sure that they would see nothing but the setting sun that was at his rear. He saw no need to expose himself unnecessarily, and he had given the fair lady the opportunity to escape the ambush that she had fallen into. He saw, given the slowness of his retreat the lady and her loyal white steed were growing closer and closer …..

[Faerydae Moriarty]

The white horse continued to toss his head and back up a step or two, but his eyes remained on the horse and rider that he had stumbled upon, waiting for an action that would tell him that they would come. Although, he was still uncertain, because a lot of times, humans did not understand his actions, but all what he could do was hope. His haunches were tensed up as he waited, as if anything could set him off in any minute, and soon, he got his answer. Amber eyes watched as the rider pulled out his bow now, something that Silver easier recognized as a battle tool that humans used. After all, he had nearly gotten hit by one earlier in the day. No sooner than the human was armed, did the white horse swing around at a great speed and launched himself back into the wood now, quickly gaining speed as he could hear the men’s raised voices now and his companion’s screams. The branches tore at him, but he hardly could care less as he glanced back to see the horse and rider right behind him. Just before reaching the area, Silver slid to a stop, waiting to see what the human would do even though the white horse himself could not stand still and danced around in place, wishing to charge.

The time of her horse being gone seemed to be ages. She tried as hard as she could to struggle against the man dragging her forward towards the others on horseback but it almost seemed impossible. Faerydae just did not have the strength to do so, “Let go of me, you troll!” the young woman yelled now. When she yanked back her arms, it barely did anything to phase the man and he simply tugged harder, “She’s quite the little fighter, boss,” the man said in a grin now, clearly mocking her as she found herself in the shadows of the horses. It was a dangerous place to be now, that much she knew with the five hungry man staring down upon her. If only Talberon was still alive, even Janus would not have settled for this, although, that was in the past, the king of Balor could care less about her now, if he even knew she was alive, “Then teach her a lesson, mate,” came the commander now. An ugly smile played across the man’s face now as he pulled her up against his body, his hands trying to grope her now. There was no way she was putting up with that though, and she quickly spat right in his face, a look of fight in her eyes as he glared at her.

What happened next, the young maiden barely had any chance to react to it. He let go of her for a split second as a hand came right across her face. The brute force alone and knocked her off her feet and onto the wood’s floor. Honestly, it was shocking that he hadn’t broken her neck. It took Faerydae a moment to recover, for her head was spinning and already, she could hear the men taunting her again and egging their friend on. She glanced up now as he took a step towards her now, fear coming alive in her ice blue eyes as she attempted to scramble back, her back colliding with a horse’s leg that wouldn’t move. The man took a lunge for her now, and Faerydae felt her scream, “Get off of me!” She kicked out as he grabbed at her legs, her foot slamming with his face as she managed to push herself against the horse yet again, all of the commotion startling it a bit and it backed up now, trying to avoid contact again with her body. Just as the man took a lunge for her, and Faerydae felt a scream start to lift in her throat as the men laughed at what would happen to her, something sliced through the air and hit square centered her attacker’s back.

“Is it Balor’s knights?” one asked in panic now as the lead snarled, “God no, Janus wouldn’t send any help for his unfaithful queen.” But they barely had any time to discuss any more as arrows flew out of the woods now, hitting some of their marks and then men were falling fast and their bay horses screaming in terror, and attempting to flee, some dumping their riders in the process. Faerydae saw this as her chance to escape and she quickly scrambled to her feet now to head towards where the arrows were coming from just as an hand came out of nowhere, grabbing hold of her arm, “You’re paying for this, you wentch!” The man bellowed at him, but that was all that could be said as twigs and brambles in the brush started to break again. Her ice blue eyes glanced over just in time to see the white horse leap from the brush now, his ears pinned back against his skull as he headed towards the man now. Neither the man nor Faerydae had any time to reach, and all what she could remotely do was tear his arm out of his grasp as Silver’s front hooves cut through the air. There was a defeatning crack of hoof against skull, and the world almost seemed to go still for the young maiden as she watched her other attacker go down now onto the woodland floor.

A whinny escaped the white horse now, which snapped her out of her trance as she leaped forward towards the white horse, her hands griping at his weight mane as she pulled herself up now without the aid of a saddle to help her like always. Silver turned his head and nudged under her shin and shoved her onto his back. The moment the white horse felt her sitting on top of him, he shot forward. The earth groaning beneath him as he kicked up dirt and grass and shot into the brush now, leaving behind the scatterbrain assailants who were trying it get their bearings together and figure out whether to flee and forget about their wounded comrades or to go after the aide of the young maiden. One brave soul shot an arrow towards the fleeing pair before he turned to leave and join the others. Faerydae heard it flying through the air and it nicked the side of bicep, grazing the skin and drawing blood as it flew past her and slammed into a tree. Her arm stinged a little and she could feel blood start to run down it, but she thought it nothing then what it could have been.

She lowered herself farther along the horse’s back now, almost as if she were becoming one with him as he collected his moments to maneuver around the trees and went flying past the horse and rider now. Her ice blue eyes glanced to see him, and while it had been a brief moment, it had been enough. He had dark skin, as if it had been blessed by the sun for he had been in the outdoors a lot with dark brown hair, that it might had looked black in certain lights. Although, perhaps what brought her attention the most was his eyes. Dark, and full with intensity, but whether it was merely life or that he had seen many things in her life, it was hard to decide. Of course, this was going upon the three seconds that she had gotten to seen him. And his horse, an Arabian, a noble breed for certain, powerful and light weight and alert at anything. Although, everything had been a flash, but come about ten feet from the horse and rider now, Silver planted his hooves in the ground and stopped, swinging himself slightly so he could look back at the two that he had found on the road.

His ears twitched as his amber eyes watched them now, waiting for them and listening for the men, but he heard none of it now. The rider must have taken most of them out, and what little had been spared had fled. A snort of great achievement escaped the white horse now as he tossed his head and pawed the ground, “Thank you, Silver,” Faerydae murmured now as her left hand slid up her right arm and clamped over her battle scar, which she did not dare look at the moment. Her attention instead, like Silver, was on the horse and rider. While she had never been one to trust others ever since her exile, the young maiden felt as if she must wait and at least thank him. If it had not been for him, she might have been dead now.

[Deleted]

While it was true that Lancelot was no longer a Knight of Camelot, he still adhered as much to the Code as if he had never had his knighthood stripped by King Uther. The difference these days, of course, was that he had no reason to hold back …. no one who was waiting for him to come back, safely. As he had started out, following this white horse, he had thought how strange it was. He had always considered that his black stallion had enough of a personality to be almost human-like. There were times that he half-expected, with expression on Sher-Fore’s face and eyes that he thought he would speak to him some sage advice, but of course he never did. This silvery horse, however, seemed to be even more communicative, and the look on its features was one that appeared to be akin to desperation, Lancelot thought, and was one reason why he dove into the heavy brush, without any real hesitation. He had not gone very many feet after the horse that seemed to beckon with its head and neck, that he had reacted much more quickly than he would have, unless he had been asked by Arthur or Merlin. At the very least, he would have asked why, and what he was likely to run into, and how far away they would have to travel.

However, in reality, he had few questions that he needed to ask, yet, or answers to expect. It was patently obvious that whatever concerned the horse, was connected to the excited voices that he had heard in the not too-removed distance. His assumptions were soon verified as the horse they were following slowed suddenly, and then had stopped at the edge of the clearing. Even though it was dusk, and the light was beginning to fade, it was still easy to see what was going on in the space just ahead. Of course as soon as he had decided to follow he had drawn out his bow, so that he would be ready for action. It was not as preferred a weapon, personally, as was his long-swords or his lance, but he had made himself skilled at it over the years. It had been quickly obvious what the situation was, she was screaming and being dragged down the hill. It did not take a genius for him to figure out who the white horse had summoned him to aid, as she had no horse, and was screaming as she was dragged down the slope of the clearing toward the cluster. Lancelot scanned the field before him, quickly developing a plan of action, given the number of arrows he knew he had in his quiver, and the number of potential targets he had before him.

He understood that it was likely that there were other assailants hiding in the brush on the other side of the clearing, but he could only concern himself with what he could see. He could hear that the screaming had ceased, but she had not given up. She was struggling and giving her abductor as much verbal abuse that she could. Lancelot knew that if he allowed him to get the woman back with the larger group of fighters that it might be impossible to extract her successfully. So, the first step was stop her progress down the slope, and he knew that would only take place by eliminating the man who was currently dragging her away. He wanted to do it with one shot, since he needed to conserve his arrows, since he needed to at least pin down the larger group on the far side of the clearing. His first shot, of course had been true when he struck him in the middle of the back. He knew, even if it was not deadly, the shock of the impact would cause him to lose the grip on his prize. His shot, was extremely long, but quite accurate, dropping the man. Lancelot had known, given how close together they were that this was the most dangerous, since it would have not taken much of a placement error to hit her instead.

Fortunately, the foolish man had suddenly hit her, forcing her down to the ground, presenting Lancelot with and easy and clear target. As soon as they saw the man go down, and the girl begin to backpedal back towards them, the white horse bolted from Lancelot’s side. He smiled slightly and grimly, acknowledging that it had not even taken a word from him. They were obviously quite connected, the hose and the woman. Of course, Lancelot knew that the faster that the horse could get to her and get her out of harm’s way, the better. Now that the first phase of his quickly-conceived strategy had born fruit, it was now time to engage the cluster of fighters on the far side of the clearing. At the very least he wanted to occupy them to help cover her escape. However, Lancelot thought that his onslaught might be enough of a surprise to catch several of them in the open, injuring them severely, if not killing them. He also knew that if they could not identify easily where the arrows were coming from, all he might have to do would be to fell one or two of them, not just to break the cluster of fighters up, but perhaps to begin a stampede that would allow the girl and he to melt back into the forest, unseen and impossible to track.

He had easily identified the man who had seemed to be giving orders to the man who had been dragging the girl. Lancelot surmised that he was their leaders and he foolishly was at the leading edge of the cluster. He was the first one he targeted; knowing that cutting the head off the serpent was often the best way to defeat it. As soon as the arrow bisected the center of his chest, he saw the fighters waver, lose confidence, and slowly begin to scatter. It would have been better for them if they had immediately sought protection from the flying projectiles, since several were taken down within moments, which began to drive their disorganized and fearful flight from the clearing, just as he saw her horse reach her. To his dismay he saw another man grab her, and he exclaimed in a raspy whisper, “and where did he come from?” But before he could raise another of his dwindling supply of arrows ro his bow he saw the rescuing white horse quickly take the man out, and supply her with her final escape.

He watched the horse wisely take the girl into the bush as quickly as he could getting her out of the field of arrow fire as quickly as possible. Lancelot saw the arc of an arrow that left the bow of an archer just as he retreated out of range. It fell out of the sky very close to the woman and her mount, but it was not clear if they had been impacted by it or not. Quickly, though, the woman and her mount approached Lancelot’s concealed position, and then passing him by several yards, coming to a stop, before turning toward Lancelot and his horse, as if they were waiting on them. It was clear to Lancelot that the horse needed a few moments to catch its breath, before they moved on, but move on they must and quickly. He did notice several things quite quickly …. one that she was quite a striking woman on top of that striking white mount, as well as the trickle of blood that he saw on her upper arm.

“Milady, are you all right? Is you wound a bad one or merely a scratch. It would be well if it were only a scratch since I would recommend that we immediately head for the deep woods, and find a stream to hide our tracks and scent for awhile before taking a change in direction and path. It is important that we loose these men as quickly and effectively as we can. I surprised and shamed them once. Without their leader their spirit may be broken, but I don’t want to take a chance that they will try to avenge him.” It was not important to Lancelot that she explain to him her situation. If she desired it, and he needed to know, he trusted that he would tell her. “You must be of great value, to have a horse that is so interested in your saving,” he said, nodding his head slightly. “At any rate, your life was purchased at the price of many men’s lives, although their worth could be questioned, I think. Just because I have saved you, though, think not that you owe me anything. I did what I did because I felt it to be right, and would do so again, so I look for no reward. We must leave this place now, though. If you wish it, you may follow me, or you may go your own way. The decision is yours,” and he turned toward the deeper wood of the Balor.

[Faerydae Moriarty]

She could only have imagined the bloodshed that they had managed to escape. Who would have ever thought that so much damage could be done to a man through a single shaft of wood? Of course, arrows always had the pointed tip, and with a skilled archer, can be known as the deadliest weapon to man. While Faerydae and Silver had felt the scene before they could have truly witnessed anything, the screams of the men only gave to their imagination. They stood still in the woods, hardly moving as if they were statues, as they stared towards the back of the dark horse and his rider, as they slowly began to descend backwards now and towards them. The young maiden felt herself straining, trying to hear the men’s cries, and she could make out that their leader had lost his head. There were distinctive curses being sworn, but not one of them seemed to be brave enough and come after the archer. It was not long before Faerydae heard the scrambling of horses galloping off at high speeds in the other direction.

They were safe.

For the time being that is, at least. A mild wave of relief washed over the maiden now, and she closed her eyes for a moment, silently giving her thanks before she opened her eyes again. Her ice blue gaze glanced over towards the dark horse and his rider now as they came forth towards both her and Silver. As always, the white horse showed now fear at the approaching pair and merely stood taller and prouder, with his head raised up to make him appear higher now even though he already stood above the average horse by a few inches. Faerydae’s gaze never left the archer though, for as he moved towards her now, she saw that her quick glance over him before earlier had not down her any justice. He was certainly a handsome man, no doubt one that women in local villages and taverns often swooned over and dreamed off. But his eyes, they were full of such emotions, raw from the scars of life perhaps as well as the joys that his life had brought. It was hard to place such emotions, but something was there.

‘He must be a ranger,’ she thought to herself as they drew closer. When they were no more than feet from them, the white horse dipped his head in greeting towards the rider, but as well as towards the horse in means of a thank you. Although, she sat still and quiet, her eyes never leaving this man though and waited for him to speak, “Milady, are you all right? Is you wound a bad one or merely a scratch?” Quickly, Faerydae glanced down towards her arm now for a moment, her hand painted red with blood now as it remained pressed up against her bicep. In all the excitement as well as being distracted by both horse and rider, she had completely forgotten about it. Even though the blood was smeared, and brought out quite a startling contrast to her skin, it did not look as if it would hardly hinder her at all. She glanced back up towards him now though as he talked, “It would be well if it were only a scratch since I would recommend that we immediately head for the deep woods, and find a stream to hide our tracks and scent for awhile before taking a change in direction and path. It is important that we lose these men as quickly and effectively as we can. I surprised and shamed them once. Without their leader their spirit may be broken, but I don’t want to take a chance that they will try to avenge him.”

There was a pause in his conversation, and she did nothing of the matter as they looked over each other, as well as the white horse did the same. They studied each other as painters would their models, or librarians would a scroll, taking in everything they could get on the surface without having to crack it open to explore, “You must be of great value, to have a horse that is so interested in your saving,” he commented now, nodding his head slightly. Her eyes widen slightly at his words, but Faerydae managed to find her tongue, “We have a bond, that is all. I am of no importance to anybody else besides him,” she replied quietly now. How sad those words seemed to sound to her out loud, the prospect never really bothered her though. The maiden had always felt very certain of herself that she did not need the company of people, and was often fine with just Silver. Besides, she saw no need to fall back to those who had so quickly turned their backs on her, even if she had done something wrong, she had been of their blood and bone.

Although, it was not long before her savior cut off her thoughts of the past, “At any rate, your life was purchased at the price of many men’s lives. Although their worth could be questioned, I think. Just because I have saved you, though, think not that you owe me anything. I did what I did because I felt it to be right, and would do so again, so I look for no reward. We must leave this place now, though. If you wish it, you may follow me, or you may go your own way. The decision is yours,” with that, he nudged his black Arabian forward now and they started to go deeper into the woods. Ice blue and amber gazes watched them leave. His words were touching, and yet, they were simply not the words that a ranger could offer. Rangers were often gruff with their words and did not use them so beautifully, no, there was a certain type of showmanship that came with that. Although, Faerydae knew well enough he was not from Balor, for she would have recognized him easily from her and Janus’s court. But he simply had to be a knight, perhaps from Camelot’s territories for his accent was quite distinguishable.

A snort escaped Silver now as he tossed his head, and stamped the ground, tired of her thoughts that she did not include him on, but she did not dare touch him with her bloody hand and her other still was firmly intertwined in his knotted mane, “Do you think we should go with him?” Faerydae asked of the white horse now. It was an uncertainty that hung in the air for her, the woods were not safe and she knew well enough from her rule as queen of Balor that the deeper you went, the far more dangerous it go. For all that man knew, he could very well be walking into the trap of any number of beasts. Although, going back onto the roads and the pathways were certainly not an option for her right now, for the men might be waiting for her. Not to mention, as the rider had said, they might just be regrouping and coming back for them once they had recovered their bearings. And there was also the fact that it had been quite some time since she had traveled with a human, and her interaction with people had been sacred because of the mistrust that always lingered in the back of her mind, forever set there because of Cyelena. Although, her thoughts did not dwell on this for much longer for Silver let out a sound.

She shifted slightly on his back as much as she could so that she could glance down at the white horse now, whose amber eyes remained on her now. He tossed his head slightly, and took a step forward and in the direction of the dark horse in his rider. Silver had made up in his mind for what they were to do. Faerydae’s gaze went back to man’s back now as he and his horse slowly grew smaller now, “I trust your judgment, Silver,” she murmured. Although, there were still many things that she wished to know about this mysterious man, whether she wanted to admit it to herself or Silver though was beyond her. Without another thought now, the white horse moved forward. His gait was smooth and gentle, and it almost felt as if he were gliding over the woods surface now as he lengthens the stride to close the distance between him and the dark horse now. It was but a few moments though before he and his companion glided up right besides the man and his horse now, and Faerydae yielded the white horse to give room between the two of them now, staying at a safe and cautious distance of three feet, “Are you a knight?” she asked rather abruptly now.

[Deleted]

Lancelot …. the former Sir Lancelot …. sat back, awaiting the beautiful woman and her horse’s next move and set of decisions. He had no clear idea of what her attackers intentions had been. Had it been to hold her captive and seek a ransom, as Hengist had hoped to do for the Lady Morgana. Or, after taking hold of her, and abusing her, were they just planning to end her life. Of course there was the possibility, however unlikely, that she had wronged them in some way, and they were seeking some revenge or retribution. There was, however, and obvious hesitancy on her part when it came to Lancelot. That was understandable, since she did not know him from Adam. He had saved her with his intervention, that was true, but she probably wondered what exactly his motives and intentions were. It was clear, though, that if they had been successful, the best that she could have hoped for was enslavement, and the words that he had heard from across the clearing had been none too endearing.

If he had not intervened her life might have been the only one lost. As it was, his actions had killed or severely injured at least a half-dozen. Much blood had been spilled, but he was not concerned that the quality of blood had been high. For the most part, bandit like he felt they had been, represented a more cowardly class of men than one would normally find in the average village. In short, he did not regard the lives that he had taken as any great loss, even though, generally, he felt all human life should be valued. He saw the silver-haired woman, and the silver-maned horse look back across the clearing and strain to hear the noises that still came from the group that he had just bloodied. He found it curious that they stood there like a pair of unmoving statues apparently trying to sort out what had just happened and what it all meant for them. It was one piece of positive trends, Lancelot thought, that the voices seemed to be becoming more faint, which indicated that they were in full retreat now, a result of them losing their leader and taking the heavy losses that they had.

As the moments dragged it seemed that the horse and its rider seemed o noticeably relax as the danger …. immediate danger …. seemed to recede. He did not think that he had seen her beautiful eyes blink or move in the last several minutes, but at last they did. And finally, her gaze moved from the open clearing that she had just escaped and now, uncomfortably, began to fall on Lancelot he found. It was if she was trying to analyze him for imperfections, and ascertain whether she had found any obvious flaws. He decided that now was the proper time to approach, and to at least begin the process, if she had not thought on it yet, as to whether she would travel forward with him now, or set out alone. He saw her horse turn toward them as they approached, probably to present the best face to the newest warrior on the block. They approached slowly, although steadily, trying to take in as much information about him as they could, before they had to commit to an evaluation and a course of action. He had the funniest feeling, though, that she had more questions than anything else right now.

Even in the fading light it was easy to see the piercing blue of her penetrating eyes. They were beautiful, and a most distinctive feature, but it was clear that she used those to challenge others, even without speaking a word. She looked him over, up and down, as if she was evaluating his quality as if they were in the open market, and he was on sale. He got the unusual feeling that she had a long history of judging others, and probably in most cases, the people that she encountered ad come up short in her eyes. Although it gave Lancelot no comfort, he did not worry on it much, in that he figured that she was as much a wanderer as he was and that she would go her way and he go his. Her penetrating gaze, however, did seem to try to penetrate to his very core, which was not something that he was used to, from anyone. It did remind him, though, of the glares that he had received from King Uther, and he wondered if she was a noble, which suddenly, and for no good reason, made sense to him.

As they, finally, came within a few feet of one another, he saw her horse apparently dip its head in greeting, if not in thanks, and his black stallion responded in kind. He had previously inquired about her well-being, and perhaps for the first time she had peered at her wound. It seemed to pose no more than an annoyance for her, so he assumed the wound was quite superficial. He noted the lack of response from her and indicated that he hoped that it was only a scratch and that they … the both of them …. should continue to move away from their present location to prevent being located by their adversaries. He was still unconcerned about the reasons that they had attacked her and she had not been forthcoming about it, at least not yet. It was obviously something that was quite personal to her, and was none of his business until she made it so. He had spoken now of her obvious value, given how her horse had protected and defended her, and for the first time she responded to a question or comment from him. In response he said, ”Well then, it is a strong bond, is it not? Well then, at least you have him. It would appear to me having a bond with him is of more value than most humans I have seen. And what is his name? This black Arabian here is Sher-Fore. He has seen me through many dangers. I doubt whether there are many people who could put up with me as well as this one,” he chuckled.

It was not just the words that she had said were sad, it was the plaintive and depressed manner in which they had been said that made the greatest impression on the former knight. “As far as the other, I think, it is probably as much a question of whether you want others to care, as to whether there is anyone that does. I don’t even know your name, or what your situation is, and I still risked my life to save yours.” He had purposefully not identified who he was, as long as she decided to keep herself anonymous. She was someone who e would like to know netter, but if she decided that she didn’t want that, he would not waste time or energy pressing the matter. He surged Sher-Fore forward, knowing that for their safety they must begin moving, as well as to encourage her to make a decision on the path she was to choose. Lancelot was a man of action, not of words. He was a knight in everything but title, and therefore would defend and protect her if that was what she desired. He simply did not know what she was looking for.

As he headed off, deeper into the wood, he thought he heard her ask the horse about what they should do. He knew that they had a strong bond, but could they communicate so clearly? He knew that the Balor was known for its magic and its magical creatures. Was this just another example of it? And if she could talk to it, what would it say? After all, it was the reason he had intervened in the first place. Hmmmm ……. It suddenly became obvious that they were indeed following! He then heard a verbal statement, where she said she trusted the horse. So … the horse must have made the first move …. interesting. He slowed his Arabian’s forward progress, allowing them to more easily catch up. In just a few moments they had caught up, and for the first time, rather abruptly, she asked him a question, without prompting, and he answered back just as abruptly. “No, but for the shortest of times I was a Knight of Camelot, Sir Lancelot Du Lac, until I was stripped of my knighthood by King Uther himself. So, after spending nearly half of my life, seeking service as a knight as my only goal, it was ironic that it was taken away with little chance to ever have the opportunity again.”

[Faerydae Moriarty]

As they waited for his approach, it seemed as if both he and his horse were relaxed in their motion. It was not something she could entirely understand, but often, Faerydae found herself living in fear rather than in ease. With the night slowly beginning to fall upon them now in the wood, she knew well enough that were other things in the dark to fear more than men who wished to use her for their pleasure. Patiently, she waited for her savior to come fourth and as he and her horse drew closer as she watched them. Her thoughts wandered to him, as always it seemed, this mysterious man plagued her thoughts for the moment and she could not help herself when she studied him for her gaze did not leave him for anything but a second. It was hard to decide if he was uncomfortable under her gaze, but seeing as he just took out half of dozen men; the young maiden found it a hard thought to completely believe that he would be uneasy.

When they stood before each other, silence seemed to hang in the air. Although, when Silver had dipped his head in greeting, the black horse had in return, silently answered his greeting. The horse’s ears twitched slightly as his amber eyes rested on the black horse and extended out his velvety muzzle, in taking the Arabian’s scent and bumping noses with the other stallion now. Her gaze remained on the two horses for a moment; it was very odd to see Silver be so accepting to another horse. Usually, he wanted nothing to do with other horses. Often, Faerydae thought the white stallion as a kingly horse, and she knew that he was of one of the wild horse breeds, which made her think that he became picky about other horses that he come into contact with. Although, there was nothing that seemed to bother him about this man’s horse. In his amber eyes though, she could see there was a recognition of the bravery that the Arabian had shown just as his owner had when it came to help her, and with that, had earned Silver’s respect.

Her gaze soon though, returned to the nameless man now. She could not help but to wonder if he was studying her as she was him, and what thoughts that he had of her. Perhaps though, he was simply curious as to why those men had been attacking her. Of course, Faerydae had gotten used to large groups of men trying to get at her that they all just blend her in mind now. The only difference between this group and others were the fact that the men had been on horseback, and there had been twice as many as usual, which might as well have been the death of her. By now, the young woman had spoken of her value and of the horse, it was his turn to respond, “Well then, it is a strong bond, is it not? Well then, at least you have him. It would appear to me having a bond with him is of more value than most humans I have ever seen. And what is his name?” She simply stared at the man, uncertain of whether to answer, but still, she did, “It is a very strong bond and one that is stronger than any I have ever have with a human,” safe for one, but there was no need to tell him of that, “I do not know his true name that his people have given him,” she spoke now, “But he allows me to call him Silver, and it has stayed since.”

The horse’s ears twitched at the mentioning of his name now, but did nothing more as he lazily stood listening to the conversations between the humans, “This black Arabian here is Sher-Fore. He has seen me through many dangers. I doubt whether there are many people who could put up with me as well as this one,” he said with a mild laugh. Ice blue eyes flickered towards the Sher-Fore, and as she noted before, he was certainly a powerful horse, sleek and beautiful and no doubt brought people’s envy along with it, “He’s a beautiful horse…surely he is not your only friend though.” She did not know why, but there was something about this man, perhaps how he spoke so easily with her even though she was a stranger or how he came to her aid without any hesitation, made her think that he had to at least have a one human friend, or even a lover, “As far as the other, I think, it is probably as much a question of whether you want others to care, as to whether there is anyone that does. I don’t even know your name, or what your situation is, and I still risked my life to save yours.”

Clever he was to have caught on to her underlying sadness. She was not sure how to take his words though. Ice blue eyes merely remained on him for a moment, biting her lower lip in thought. She would not solely take the blame for being the one to push people away, he had no right to call her out on that, for people pushed her away as well. After all, that was one of the reasons she was out here, other than for her own foolish actions that she could not control, “And I thank you for it,” the young maiden replied now as she broke her gaze from him, not trusting herself to speak on the other matters. As he moved his black Arabian forward now, it was then that Faerydae realized something: he had not even mentioned his name to her. While it was true, that she had hardly told him who she was either, she had, in truth, half expected him to give her his name. It was as if they were playing a game of some sorts, each waiting for the other to reveal their identity even though it was sure to never happen. As Silver moved forward to join then, Faerydae noticed how the man had slowed down Sher-Fore, and this caused the white stallion to toss his head in annoyance, clearly believing that the man and Arabian thought him too slow to catch up with them at their normal pace.

As the settled down to the pace of a walk though, something had happen that the fair haired maiden had not been expecting, her savior told her who he was, “No, but for the shortest of times I was a Knight of Camelot, Sir Lancelot Du Lac, until I was stripped of my knighthood by King Uther himself. So, after spending nearly half of my life, seeking service as a knight as my only goal, it was ironic that it was taken away with little chance to ever have the opportunity again.” His answer was rather abrupt to her, as much as her question had been. But unlike he had been with her question, she was surprised that he had bothered to answer her. Her gaze rested on him for a moment before glancing away, “Lancelot,” she murmured to herself, allowing his name to roll slowly off her tongue and leave her lips, as if she would remember it better by doing so when in reality, she just wished to say it. It was like discovering a missing piece to a puzzle, but she did not have the whole thing completed. Yet, by knowing his name only made her wish to know more.

Of course, there was something in his answer that had greatly startled her and she glanced back over at him. Her gaze was soft this time, hardly interested in dissecting him at the moment, “Uther stripped you of your knighthood?” She could not have imagined why, in many ways, she thought Lancelot the epitome of a knight. Clearly, wise beyond his years, and he knew how to survive, and he had a bit of chivalry to him and eagerly helped people whom he hardly knew, such as herself. Although, Camelot’s king is of the old rules, and there were only two things that she could possibly think of that would cause Lancelot to be stripped of his knighthood. Clearly, he was still standing here alive before her eyes, so magic was not the cause which left only one other thing, “It does not surprise me that Uther only sees nobility as flesh and bloodlines rather than what it truly is,” she commented lightly now, “It was wrong of him to take you away from Camelot.” After all, out of all the kingdoms, Uther’s Camelot always seemed to be the one under attack, and while Prince Arthur was skilled and capable of handling himself, it all should not rest on one man.

A gentle whicker escaped Silver now as he craned his head slightly to glance back at her, looking at her with those amber eyes. She could feel the horse’s eyes on her, and fully knew what he was asking of her, “I suppose you wish to know who I am,” she said quietly now, her eyes on the man for a moment. After all, Lancelot gave up his name and identity; it was only fair if she did as well. Although, Faerydae was hesitant about it, afraid of what he would think of her. The thought of lying had crossed her, but somehow, the thought of getting caught in a lie from him terrified her more than what she had just escaped, because unlike them, he was actually a good person. The fair haired maiden could not bear to look at him though and her eyes dropped to the wood’s floor now, “I am Faerydae Moriarty, exiled Queen of Balor,” her voice came out soft and quiet, barely above a whisper even though she was not even doing so. She closed her eyes for a second, as if the thought pained her, and making her feel timid before finally saying, her ice blue eyes raising back up to his dark eyes, “But that is a relic of my past, you may call me Dae.”

[Deleted]

Lancelot did not have the impression that this lady was one who had a surplus of trust. So Lancelot endeavored to keep his calm, and he knew his horse would keep his wits about him, as always. He knew that he and his horse were true nomads. He did not need anyone in particular, he was sure. He just needed to serve. He had always thought that his destiny lay with serving Camelot and the Pendragons. Now, his need and mission to serve would be much more general, he knew. Slowly but steadily he allowed Sher-Fore to approach the maiden rider and her horse. The white horse seemed to be far more welcoming than the female did. Her eyes seem to be piercing and all-observant, and only left them for an instant, and seemed to be filled with surprise. He saw her noting how friendly the two horses were with one another. Indeed, Lancelot had never seen his Sher-Fore take up with another as easily as he had with this one.

He had elected to approach slowly, and not get too close, so that the maiden would no feel pressured or threatened. He was not afraid of her, he was only afraid, given the actions he had just taken, that she would have fear of him, although his first concern was her welfare. This did not mean that he was unconcerned with what had transpired to put her into this situation, but it was not his first priority, and he had no fear. Finally, only a few feet separated them and he had identified both his horse and himself, and he was now waiting patiently on whatever information she would choose to divulge to him. They both could see how there horses were already growing familiar with one another. He supposed, with how closely rider and horse seemed to be attuned to one another that this might break down whatever hesitancy the woman might have in communication with Lancelot, and perhaps trusting him from now on and into the future. He knew that all he could be and do was to patience.

Her focus on the 2 horses, however, was short-lived. Especially as Lancelot grew closer he became an object of even more importance to the platinum-haired maiden. It gave her an other-worldly quality, which, in itself was not a good pr bad thing, just something that had to be considered as well as observed. He wondered if she was ever going to speak, let alone answer any of his questions. As he thought she would be most comfortable with her companion, Lancelot had thought the best place to start their conversation was on the value of the forests. So far he had not learned much about her and her horse that he could not see by simple observation, and she now knew his horse’s name. “Well, I have always found that the bonds with horses are one of the strongest that exist with humans. So, it is not exactly that surprising of a phenomena, is it? Silver …. it is a beautiful and appropriate name, both for the horse and its rider, I would think.” It seemed to be only a trickle of information so far, but it was a start, he thought. Generally, he had found in nature was that when a small leak began in an earthen dam, it was only a question of time over the point when the flood would break out. Patience would rule the day.

Both horses’ heads turned to the opposite rider as they heard their names being mentioned in positive tones of explanation. Once her horse had been identified, Lancelot went into some description of his horse, and some distinct commentary on her horse and the perceived lack of friendships with humans in her life, that was being taken up, to some extent, with Silver. When Lancelot made reference to some characteristics of hers, which appeared to be obvious to him, he saw that he got her attention raised once more. He got the feeling that she did not have the opportunity to interact much with humankind, which he actually thought was a conscious choice on her part. However, he would be the first to admit that, since they had just met, much of his analysis might be in error since he would have no knowledge of her circumstances ad the relative hardships, if any, that she had endured. He wondered, if now, she would take the opportunity to address his education about her, or if she would keep any information about herself to herself. He thought that it would be easier for him to keep her safe if he knew as much as he could.

As he watched her carefully, it became obvious to him that she was going to remain silent, for the most part, about herself. Still, in at least her tone, he thought he had picked up on some unspoken issues that he hoped that they could come back to. Was she really sad or was that just a figment of his imagination? Had he picked up on something that was not there, just as a by-product of the attack that she had just barely survived? Hmmm … she thanked him for his efforts on her behalf, but here at the thanking she could not look him in the eye. Why was that? That was something that he could not answer, yet. The one thing that he did know, however, was that they had to start moving forward. Given their small number, he did not care to find himself suddenly outnumbered in unfamiliar territory. He wondered, now that she had given him her horse’s name, and he Sher-Fore’s, whether she would be willing to give hers, finally. Of course he had not identified himself, but he only looked at that as being fair. He did not think that his name would be familiar, but he was wondering, now, just exactly who she was. Maybe she would come forward now, he thought.

This was quite silly, he thought, this game they were playing over names. He did not even know if she was gong to consent to travel with him or not, so he decided to just say his official name out loud, and be done with it. So he told it all in a clipped, quickly-spoken phrase, identifying both what he had been, but was no more, and the name that went along with that title. He also implied the part played by King Uther of Camelot. “I would have probably not made a very good Knight anyway. It would have required me to stay in one played for extended periods, and I am more of a nomad, a wanderer.” The one true thing was that Lancelot himself had pretty much given up on the idea of ever returning to Camelot for any extended time and to try and become a Knight again. She still did not say her name, but with the way she repeated it she seemed to like his better.

He wondered if the superficial information that he had provided so far would be enough for her curiosity. “Yes ….yes he did …. the morning after the night that it had been granted. So, it did not take him long to realize his grievous mistake, and correct it.” The way that she asked the question, and the tone that was in it, seemed to indicate a certain level of shock. He could easily see that she was strongly focusing on the subject of his dismissal. Still, though,he was greatly surprised when she apparently had figured much of it out. “Yes …. Yes ….nobility and the Knight’s Code …. The Knight’s Code had been violated in that I had provided a false seal of nobility to get into a try-out for the Knights.” When Uther discovered it, he reacted. “Perhaps it was wrong …. perhaps it wasn’t. The fact of the matter is that I was dismissed and dressed down. My exile from Camelot, though, had been self-imposed. Now, I have no doubt that Uther believes he did the only thing he could do. At least at the time, Arthur held a different view.”

Finally, though, after some apparent prodding by Silver, her horse, she brought up the subject of her name. “Yes …. yes …. I’ve always thought it to be a good idea to know who I am talking to.” He could see the hesitancy. He wanted to tell her not to worry about it. They would probably just go their separate ways at some point anyway. He saw that she was looking directly into his pale blue eyes, now, once again evaluating him to see if he was worthy to know and be told. Suddenly, though, her eyes dropped, as if she could not look into his and tell him the name at the same time. “I am Faerydae Moriarty, exiled Queen of Balor,”she said softly. He brought his horse to an immediate stop, and quickly bowed his head. “All is much clearer now. Those men either sought your death or you ransom. Your Highness, whether I be a Knight of Camelot or not …. it is an honor and a pleasure to serve you. I understand the sadness now as well. If you wish me to call you Dae, of course I will do it. It will be an honor if you will ride with me, but I feel more strongly than ever that we make haste.”

[Faerydae Moriarty]

She could tell that he was allowing patience for her, although, she could not understand why. Not many people would sit there in silence with her and watch how she remained uncertain in speaking or even trusting another individual. It showed great character that he would do this, although, at the same time, Faerydae found herself simply wondering one word: Why? This man, this savior of hers, he stood by her right now when everybody else would lose interest and leave her, yet for some odd reason, he stayed. Perhaps it was just simply how he was though, and in the most likely event, she would never know. Either way, she still found herself sitting there in the silence, not daring to talk and only listening to the mild wish of Silver’s tail as he flicked it. Once the man spoke though, Faerydae could tell he was being smart in the matter, starting everything off with her white stallion rather than herself for it did get her to open her mouth a little and reply. He really was quite clever for everything always started to break down after a little bit, “Well, I have always found that the bonds with horses are one of the strongest that exist with humans. So, it is not exactly that surprising of a phenomena, is it?”

Her shoulder blades dropped in a mild manner shrug, “I believe it is a matter of history is what truly brings the bond together,” after all, never in a million years had she thought that she would ever be graced with a friendship with a wild horse. Perhaps that was what made Silver so interesting when eh came to her that day. Wild horses especially that of the Elder breed were never seen with humans, they often fled them and hid so that they would not become mounts, and only allowed those worthy of their grace to sit upon their backs. But Faerydae had not sought out the white stallion; in fact, she had been there to end her life when he discovered her, “Silver …. it is a beautiful and appropriate name, both for the horse and its rider, I would think.” His words had caught her off guard for a moment, “For the horse, yes,” she replied softly, not bothering to comment upon the rider, for it was her. Honestly, the fair haired maiden could not even remember the last time that somebody had called her beautiful, whether they meant it or not. She was not even sure as to what Lancelot meant by it, but it was probably just a kind comment to a girl who was nearly taken advantage of.

During this time, the white horse had slowly been closing the gap between him and Sher-Fore, for Silver was not enjoying being kept at a distance from his new found friend, a horse essentially y as equal as him even though not of the same breed. His ears twitched as he heard the compliment and then his companion’s own words. It troubled the white stallion that she was behaving like this, for when on their own, she did not seem so sad. Either way now though, Silver let out a rather gleeful whinny at the complement and nodded his head in agreement a little wildly just as he bumped up against the black Arabian now. The faintest of smiles could not help but to grace her features because of her horse, although, it would be hard to tell that it was one for the observer would have to keep a keen eye for the smile did not affect her lips, but her eyes. Her one hand let of his mane now and slid over his shoulder in a mild rub. She found it funny how even the simplest things that her horse could do brought a change in her mood, to distract her for two seconds over everything, but she suppose, that was what companions were for now. Although, he must have been growing tired of their game for soon, the man spilled who he was: a former of knight of Camelot.

And he soon divulged a little about himself. Her ice blue gaze returned to knight now. Perhaps he was the brook that would over flow for Lancelot seemed perfectly content with speaking about himself, “I would have probably not made a very good Knight anyway. It would have required me to stay in one played for extended periods, and I am more of a nomad, a wanderer.” She continued to stare at him for a moment, allowing his words to sink into her thoughts, “Does that not strain your relationships though? A man like you, I would think that you have a love one waiting for you to come home.” While she would not admit it out loud, Faerydae did think that rouge knight handsome and the thought of him not having a lover worrying about him as he traveled across the lands of Albion seemed almost too far fetch for her. Although, perhaps Camelot was different from her own kingdom, but Balor, all of the knights had women who had loved them dearly, whether noble or not, would lay their lives down in order to make sure that they would return home from a battle or a mission. Lancelot soon pulled her away from her now thoughts as he continued to speak now.

“Yes ….yes he did …. the morning after the night that it had been granted. So, it did not take him long to realize his grievous mistake, and correct it,” he stated now. Faerydae did not say anything though. There was no point to rage on Uther when what has happened already has. This was a thing of the past, unfortunately, and she only wished that it had turned out better for dark haired man now. But people cannot help who they are, and Uther always stuck by the books even though there were times when she had been certain that he ought to have broken them. Although, despite this, there was no denying that the King of Camelot’s iron fist rule has helped out the city tremendously, but in doing so, caused him to pick up quite his fair share of enemies now, “How did he find out?” she finally asked now. After all, clean Lancelot up a little and give him a shave and expensive clothes, the young woman found herself certain that he could have easily passed for a member of a royal house, he certainly did have better mannerisms than half of them. As she glanced back over at him now, she saw the smallest hints of shock flash over his features, perhaps surprised about her knowledge of the knight’s code.

After all, it was a rule engrained into every royal family’s mindset. But perhaps she was not wandering into dangerous waters yet for he did not question her knowledge of it, “Yes …. Yes ….nobility and the Knight’s Code …. The Knight’s Code had been violated in that I had provided a false seal of nobility to get into a try-out for the Knights.” Well, that was certainly one way to do it. Her eyes remained on him for a moment, honestly, she could not have thought of anything more brave and foolish at the same time. Impersonating a member of a royal family in Camelot, well, honestly, Lancelot was probably lucky to still have his head now, “Perhaps it was wrong …. perhaps it wasn’t. The fact of the matter is that I was dismissed and dressed down. My exile from Camelot, though, had been self-imposed. Now, I have no doubt that Uther believes he did the only thing he could do. At least at the time, Arthur held a different view.” She thought over his words thoughtfully for a minute or two before finally speaking, “I believe that regardless of something being wrong or right, that it was noble of you to follow what you wish to achieve.” Although, considering that he was no longer a knight, he might have argued that it had not been the best of things, although, he did mention Arthur having a different view on everything. Arthur Pendragon…she had heard various things about him, whispers on the winds, but perhaps he was starting to grow up from a boy.

But now, everything was down to her now and Silver was coaxing her as best as a horse could do, but so was Lancelot. Even though he seemed unphased by her silence and did not ask of her person as abruptly as she had of him, it was clear that a mild curiosity rested in his thoughts. The moment she mentioned her name though, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sher-Fore come to a sudden halt, and Silver followed suit now, glancing over at his friend’s rider now. Faerydae too, glanced over towards Lancelot and was startled to see him bowing his head, “All is much clearer now. Those men either sought your death or you ransom. Your Highness, whether I be a Knight of Camelot or not …. it is an honor and a pleasure to serve you. I understand the sadness now as well.” The fair haired maiden felt herself uncertain of what to do, she had not expected him to bow or react like this, although, perhaps she hadn’t known what was going to happen anyways, “Those men only wished to use me to appease to their manhood, but I do not believe they would have cared whether I died or not in the process,” she murmured now, closing her eyes at the mentioning of ‘your highness’ for a brief second before glancing back to him.

After a moment, she freed her clean hand from Silver’s mane now and allowed it travel the small distance now from Silver to Lancelot now as her hand rested on his jawline for the briefest of seconds before gently pushing him out of his bow, “Please, I am no longer a queen, there is no reason for you to bow…you and I are equals.” And with that, she retracted her hand from him now, and it almost felt like there had been a warmth there that had not been there before, “If you wish me to call you Dae, of course I will do it. It will be an honor if you will ride with me, but I feel more strongly than ever that we make haste.” Ice blue eyes simply gazed at him for a moment, uncertain about traveling with him. It was not that he was not a kind person, but wheether she was ready for human interaction again, "Yes, I would like you to call me Dae," she murmured now.

Something caught Silver's attetnion suddenly as without warning, he turned around and stared off in the direction that they had come from. Already, Faerydae felt the tension for her rise again and her nerves getting shot as the white stallion continued to stare off for a moment, his ears twtiching waiting for sound. Somethng had caught him now and his ears pinned back slightly and he backed up slightly and turned back around before whinnying slightly to Lancelot and Sher-Fore, signaling like they had said only a few seconds ago that they had to leave. The young woman knew in that moment that she had to stay with Lancelot, for her life depending on him as life and death depended on the scales. She was not strong enough to take care of herself, and Silver could not always help her, "I will stay with you for as long as you'll have me, Lancelot," she said quickly now, her ice blue eyes quickly glancing back over towards him now, "There's a stream up ahead of us, once we cross it, we will be in the heart of the forests. They would be foolish to travel into there."

Actually, she was being foolish now for even suggesting it, but when she saw it, there was no choice at the matter. Of course, she was still bleeding from her arm and while she had been hoping to address that at the stream, there might not be any chance to do that now. This time there was a crack that seemed to split the silence and Silver wasted no time in getting his companion out of there now as he leaped forward into a gallop now and quickly headed into the trees.

[Deleted]

Lancelot felt a bit of a conflict within him. He thought that he should probably lead, if not force, some conversation. However, he remained silent, as she seemed somewhat unsure of what to say. He did not know her at all, so he thought the best path was to say nothing, and avoid saying something that he would regret and have to apologize for. The silence, though, gave him time to think over what had just happened, as well as what might transpire in the near future. He understood, perhaps as well as he ever had, that he was meant to roam. He did not know, even now, why he had responded so quickly to Silver, the lady’s devoted companion of a horse, or with such unforgiving force, when he knew nothing about the circumstances that she had found herself in. He considered now that she would probably question why he had responded as he did, as much as he had wondered about the exact nature and reason for the aggression that those men had visited upon her. The fact was that he had possessed a controlled, a bottled-up rage, which originated from several sources, some deep in his past and some not, that were released through his bow over several long and deadly seconds.

If she asked him why he had done it, would he be able to tell, exactly why? Was there a simple answer? He had, he thought, an inner rage that had been building for some time, not from one specific event, but something that had been cumulative. He knew that he was no longer a Knight of Camelot, and that he had not been a Knight for even a complete day. However, he had striven to act as a knight would, following a knightly Code of conduct. The way he had responded, had not been very knightly, had it? Or had he simply channeled his rage in a constructive way? He was not sure, and he was not sure it mattered, since he was no longer a knight, and was unlikely to ever be one. That chapter and long period of seeking had ended, hadn’t it? He convinced himself, for the time being, that such questions were philosophical, and not practical. He needed to focus on the here and now, not the right and wrong of it. He assumed the right and wrong of it would become apparent with time, but before he could find that out he would have to make sure he, and this lady survived, to see another day. The first thing to do, practically, he thought, was to get her to open up more.

He figured that the best way to so that was to talk about something besides her, but something that was obviously close to her heart, which was her horse Silver. As soon as he began to talk about horses, and their attributes, he was able to see that her body language and expressions seemed to change and become more open, and she responded. In response he turned his head away slightly and smiled, as he rode on beside her, but at a slow and leisurely pace. He wondered, knowing what he did of the horse now, which of the two, woman or horse had done the selecting. Now that he had gotten her to speak he wondered whether he would get any reaction from the small compliment he had paid to both of them. He almost expected a greater reaction from the horse than he did from her. Although he did observe the horse some, he gave the greater share of his attention to the lady. The softness of her response, as well as her focus on the horse was noted, but he felt he had to repeat what he had already said. “Yes, but I do think you will find that it is as true for the rider,” he said, making sure that she could not see the smile on his face. His attention then turned to the reaction of Silver, himself.

Lancelot saw that, although the two horses had been moving parallel, had maintained a consistent distance of several feet. Suddenly, Silver moved right next to Sher-Fore, whinnying as if he approved of what Lancelot had just said, which Lancelot could not hide his smile about, although it stayed on his face for only a moment. He had thought that the two horses enjoyed each other’s company, but Silver’s whinny and move toward Sher-Fore seemed to indicate more. Lancelot thought he saw the sudden hint of a smile on the lady’s face, but he couldn’t be absolutely sure …. It could have been a trick of the fading light. However, even with the fading light, he could see her most distinctive feature were her eyes. They seemed to be more expressive than her face did, he thought. Her abrupt question about what he was, and what he had been, seemed to surprise her with his equally abrupt answer. The directness and quickness of the answer seemed to surprise her. It almost seemed that she did not know exactly how to respond to that. He tried to only supply her with the basics to answer her question. He figured that she wouldn’t be that interested in what he generally thought had been a fairly unsuccessful quest to be a knight.

Her attention, though, seemed to turn go to him, where he expected her to ask him some questions about his black stallion. So, he was a bit surprised by the quite analytical question she sent back towards him, after she had listened to his short story. In fact, he wasn’t just surprised; he was amused as he chuckled slightly. “Milady …. I have few relationships …. I have no family. Being the nomadic traveler I have been since the age of fourteen has not been very conducive to the development of relationships. I do have a friend or two, but we cross paths very rarely. A man like me …. what’s that supposed to mean? No … there is nobody …. anywhere …. who waits for Lancelot.” He found her questions to be somewhat curious, and did not waste any more time in going on with his history. He did not think that were any obvious questions to ask. Uther had caught him in his deception, and the consequences could have been predicted. “How …. Oh he had known my supposed father, and knew he had four sons, but not five. So, he asked the Court Genealogist to have a look at my Seal of Nobility. He had it figured out by the morning after my knighting.”

He was surprised that she had such a knowledge of the Knight’s Code, but on further reflection, he supposed that many might have general knowledge about the Code. “That is an interesting point of view for a person such as yourself to possess. Unfortunately for me, that was not Uther Pendragon’s view. Noble to one, is obviously unacceptable to another. As it turns out, at least in Uther’s Camelot it was a fool’s errand. Even after killing the Gryffon ….even that was not enough to convince the King. However, it must be said that I went after the beast, not because of what it would do for me, but because it was the right thing to do.” Lancelot did wonder, though, given Prince Arthur’s seemingly different attitude, what positive changes he might bring about when he ascended to the throne. In his view it could not happen soon enough. Lancelot did not think that Uther was a bad king, per se. He did think, though, that he was closed-minded in many ways. That he didn’t see the potential that many non-nobles might possess. Prince Arthur had the potential to be a great king, and with Gwen beside him as his queen, as he thought might be the case, as well as Merlin, there was no telling the heights he might lead his kingdom to.

As Lancelot entertained these thoughts in his mind, she brought him back to the here and now wit her announcement of just who she was. At first, it made sense to him about the reasons why that group had been pursuing her. However, her own explanation made sense as well. “Yes …. milady …. I can see your point about them. They did not appear to be men who cared, or had a conscience one way or another. I am glad that I was able to intervene when I did,, and I hope that you were pleased that I did as well.” He watched her close her eyes, as she gathered herself, and asked him not to refer to her as a queen …. that that was in the past and that they were equals. He also felt and saw her reach out and rest her hand upon his, and the effect was both immediate and electric. “If addressing you in such a manner displeases you of course I will stop. I only did it because I felt that this was my knightly duty to give you the respect on honor that you are due.” He was glad to hear, as she withdrew her hand, that she wanted to him to call her Dae. “Then … Dae it shall be.!” Suddenly, something behind them had attracted both horse’s interest, and Lancelot’s as well.

Lancelot understood, as well as anyone, that horses often picked up movements and sounds more quickly than humans did. It was obviously getting too dangerous to stay where they were, and the look that Lancelot gave Dae indicated that he knew that was true, and her statement seemed to indicate that she knew it as well, and not only that, but that she trusted him as well. There was no higher a complement that most could give Lancelot other than blind trust, and he quickly responded, “Are you sure, milady, since that could be a very long time, and Lancelot does not foresee when he would have you leave him, unless it was for your own safety. As long as you would wish it, whether you be queen or not, Lancelot will serve as your knight, until and unless you would send him away. Now, I am familiar with these forests as well. Whoever might be following us, we can lose any trace of our path in that stream, and there are at least two streams beyond, further in the deep woods, and then some caves where we can take shelter.” They quickly plunged into the deep woods, traveled through a long length of a stream before heading deeper in the woods until they came to the caves he had spoken of.

[Faerydae Moriarty]

They rode in silence still, neither of them wishing to make a move of talking first. As she stole a look at the man besides her though, it would seem that he was lost iin a great deal of though. She wondered why and yet, almost felt as if she knew the answer. Either way, she would not ask a question until his mind had settled, for it was the right thing to do. Often people do not have a grasp on something until their mind collects everything that it needs to know. Even though he was quite noble, Faerydae felt as if she should be grateful that he had come to her aid. After all, when she had sent Silver on his way to find help, the young woman had hardly expected somebody would come so fast. While the leaving of the white horse was often rare, on the occasions that he did, never had she seen him get a response from somebody so quickly, and to be honest, with those men, and what they wanted to do to her being quite clear, she found that she was very thankful for both he and his swift horse coming. Although, she still found herself wondering one very important word: why?

After all, in the past, people had not caught onto Silver’s beckoning way and thought him nothing more than a wild horse either there to steal their mares or that they just, well, simply did not understand. That was one thing that she often found aggravating about people in Albion, many of them could not comprehend horses or understand them. They thought that horses are nothing more than work beasts or stupid animals, perhaps safe for the knights, who took highly to their horses for they often faced battle together. But in truth, there was more to horses that meet the eyes, even the ones who were not born of the wild. Perhaps this man understood that, and in return, understood Silver although, at the same time, it did not explain everything. While she had been the one held captive, when the onslaught of arrows came, it was easy to tell that there had been some hidden rage to them for where they hit their targets was with the aim to kill. Even now, her mind could still wander back to the leader getting his head severed off.

Before she could say anything though, the subject changed. He had been the one to take control of the subject, and perhaps by some wise insight of his, chose horses and perhaps more importantly, Silver. In a way, she was rather grateful for it. It was a conversation topic that easily flowed for her, but did not rely on her having to talk directly about herself. It seemed to pass time easily for her, allowing her to forget her about everything that had happened and who she was, for once, Faerydae actually felt normal instead of an exiled queen with a pain filled past. As she spoke about horses now, she noticed the dark haired man turn his head ever so slightly, and smiled as he rode along besides her. She found herself uncertain of what to make of it, and therefore did not comment on it. As they rode through the woods now, one would have thought that they were going for a public outing rather than leaving a miniature battle field. The young woman felt his eyes on her for a moment as she rebutted his compliment and her eyes remained locked on Silver’s knotted mane now as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world, “Yes, but I do think you will find that it is as true for the rider as well.” His words broke her concentration, but her eyes would not lift to look him in the eyes, “Thank you,” the young woman replied quietly now.

While a horse, it did not mean that he did not concentrate at the conversations at hand. The white horse’s ears twitched at their words and as the man spoke, Silver glanced over towards the man now. His amber eyes caught sight of a hidden smile, one his companion would surely not see on their new found friend. A low whicker came from him as he sidled up next to Sher-Fore now, his head turned so he could glance back at the male rider for a moment as if letting him know that while Faerydae had not witnessed his hidden smile, but he had. Afterwards though, his attention was turned back towards the other stallion now as he playfully nipped at Sher-Fore’s neck, grabbing a chunk of mane in the process to tug on, as if he were a rambunctious child trying to engage a patient adult. Ice blue eyes watched her white horse for a moment before finally commenting, “I’ve never seen him take so kindly to strangers,” it was truly at odd thing for her to witness. Then again, it spoke something about the man as well, to have a wild horse trust him so easily.

As he spoke of his tale now, she wondered if that was why he had saved her, because even though he was stripped of his title, in his heart, Lancelot Du Lac still seemed to be very much a knight. Her question of loved ones though, seemed to greatly amuse him. Her blue gaze rested on him as he let loose a mild chuckle, but she herself found herself confused and perhaps it showed on her face, uncertain of what was amusing about such a question, “Milady…I have few relationships…I have no family. Being a nomadic traveler I have been since the age of fourteen has not been very conductive to the development of relationships. I do have a friend or two, but we cross paths very rarely.” He almost sounded like her, but when it came out of his mouth, it sounded depressing. Faerydae did not believe that he should be one with so few friends, with such a noble heart, he probably deserved hundreds, and yet, he chose this path, but unlike her, it did not appear to be forced or later, for selfish reasons. Lancelot quickly caught her off guard with his own question now though, “A man like me…what’s that suppose to mean? No…there is nobody…anywhere…who waits for Lancelot.”

Faerydae found herself caught in an awkward situation where she did not know how to explain herself, although, sitting there stupidly would not help her at all. Still, though, looking him in the eye was hardly an option, “What I mean Lancelot is that…you have a heart of gold, as well as you are indeed, quite…handsome. So, I find it hard to believe when you tell me that there is nobody waiting for you.” She soon turned her attention forward now, and thankfully, the conversation had turned to Uther’s discovery, “How …. Oh he had known my supposed father, and knew he had four sons, but not five. So, he asked the Court Genealogist to have a look at my Seal of Nobility. He had it figured out by the morning after my knighting.” In all honesty, it sounded quite tragic. How unfortunate it was for Uther to have known Lancelot’s supposed father. If it had not been for that, the dark haired man would have still been a knight to this day. After all, Camelot’s knight hood not only relied on noble blood, but also a test, and from what she understood, Prince Arthur’s test was something that was hard for most to pass. He seemed genuinely surprised about her own knowledge of the codes, for after all, nomads usually knew nothing of royalty and nobles, but instead of questioning her, he went on with his story: “That is an interesting point of view for a person such as yourself to possess. Unfortunately for me, that was not Uther Pendragon’s view. Noble to one, is obviously unacceptable to another. As it turns out, at least in Uther’s Camelot it was a fool’s errand. Even after killing the Gryffon ….even that was not enough to convince the King. However, it must be said that I went after the beast, not because of what it would do for me, but because it was the right thing to do.”

A mild sigh could not help but to escape her, “Uther’s views are from the days of old. I do not believe him to ever let them go,” she murmured now as Lancelot continued to talk. Something he said though quickly caught her attention, as well as Silver’s, now. Ice blue eyes glanced over towards him, “You killed a gryffon?” While the rouge knight was strong, there was no denying that since he skillfully displayed that earlier in the day, but weapons did not penetrate a gryffon’s hide that much the girl and her horse knew. No, killing griffons, from what she heard, required magic. Surely though, he was not a magic user for he had used his own bow and arrows to kill those men. Of course though, it did not surprise her that he went after it because it was the right thing to do, after all, it sounded as if this attack had happened after he had been stripped of his knighthood. Of course, now, there was no need to talk about gryffon’s, certainly not after saying who she was. After Faerydae had finished her explanation of the men though, it seemed that it too, made sense to Lancelot, “Yes …. Milady …. I can see your point about them. They did not appear to be men who cared, or had a conscience one way or another. I am glad that I was able to intervene when I did, and I hope that you were pleased that I did as well.”

She nodded her head once in response, “I am, and I thank you for it,” the fair haired maiden responded quietly. Her mind lingered on how she had touched his hand for a second; it had been the first in a rather long time in which her hand graced human skin. Ice blue eyes lingered on her hand, and she wondered if she had been making up the feel in her head, the electric shock that seemed to be there even though there had not been any static. Strange it was and she glanced back up at him as his voice cut through her thoughts, “If addressing you in such a manner displeases you of course I will stop. I only did it because I felt that this was my knightly duty to give you the respect and honor that you are due.” Her gaze dropped quickly and it soon turned back to Silver now. Respect and honor that you are due…the words hung in mind. If he had known her past, Faerydae felt herself rather certain that he would have not said those words about her. As Lancelot now pronounced that he would call her by ‘Dae’, it was when the horses reacted to something.

It felt as if there was a heighten sense of primal awareness that hung in the air, the energy streaming off of the horses now and it very well affected her. Silver’s ears twitched as his amber eyes stared out into the trees, probably sensing things through whatever vibrations of the earth as well as the silent sounds that only he and Sher-Fore could hear. Lancelot was quick to speak up though, “Are you sure, milady, since that could be a very long time and Lancelot does not foresee when he would have you leave him, unless it was for your own safety. As long as you would wish it, whether you be queen or not, Lancelot will serve as your knight, until and unless you would send him away.” She allowed herself to think over his words for a moment but she was quick to reply, “I am sure,” for she and Silver might as well enjoy some bliss of happiness before fate decides to send them on their way, for there was no telling how long their time would actually be with the knight, “Now, I am familiar with these forests as well. Whoever might be following us, we can lose any trace of our path in that stream, and there are at least two streams beyond, further in the deep woods, and then some caves where we can take shelter.”

Silver’s ears twitched at the knight’s words, taking the directions in before he took off after the black Arabian now and staying right beside him, never falling back. During the run, Faerydae allowed herself to lean over the white horse’s great neck, allowing him he speed that he needed as he maneuvered them through the trees as dusk slowly turned into night. The trees grew thicker as the deeper they submerged themselves into the forest, and the water covered their tracks with ease and it was not too long before Silver caught sight of the camps now and finally slowed down and came to a halt outside of the cave. The sky was painted black with just the stairs and moon to keep everything alight by the time that they had gotten there. No sooner than the white horse had stopped, Faerydae slid off him, her hand running over his sides. The day had not been kind to Silver with how much hard running he had done, and his body was hot, but sweat still lathered around his legs, “You need a rest my friend,” she murmured to Silver as the others rode up, “I need to tend to my wound,” she commented now, nodding to her bloody arm. Funny how such a small scratch could bleed, “Do you think it is okay if I walk back to one of the streams?”

[Deleted]

As they rode on, slowly at first, Lancelot thought on the question of how similar the two of them were, neither apparently having a real home to go back to. There beginnings were different, though. He had heard stories of how his family had been nobles back in Gaul, but he had always been unsure if those were true, or merely fables. Dae, on the other hand, had been a queen, and the kingdom she had come from still existed, whereas Lancelot’s village had been wiped clean from the Earth by the Raiders from the Northern Plains. He wondered what had been the circumstances of her leaving and giving up her throne, and wondering if she could ever go back, and if she wanted to. Or did she simply now prefer this nomadic life that she now enjoyed? By her obvious sadness it seemed likely that either she had been forced out or she didn’t want to go back, or both. He knew that he could ask her all of these questions out loud and directly, but it was as likely as not that she would respond with her now-familiar silence. He had come to understand that she would provide the information only when she was good and ready.

But, did she have questions for him, and should he respond with silence as well? No, he decided. At least for the time being, he regarded her as a queen, and he as her knight, defending her from all threats. As a sovereign, anything she asked of him he would try to answer to the best of his abilities. He looked across at her once more. She was not the easiest person to figure out he concluded. Yes, part of it was her apparent unwillingness to engage in ordinary conversation. Part of it, as well, seemed to be that she was more closely attuned with her horse than any human being that she might be around. He had to admit that he probably shared a bit of that characteristic as well. He did not find that overly strange. Both of them relied heavily on their horses for survival. It was no wonder that they communicated much more easily. In fact, in thinking about what had just transpired, Lancelot thought that he probably reacted to the silvery horse much more quickly than if a human had come and made a request of him.

He wondered, though, if she had any questions of him to answer. He had already said much, probably more than he had in some time. Had he said enough so that she really had no questions to ask, he wondered. If she had little that she would respond to, and few apparent questions, so Lancelot felt it was natural for him to drive the conversation. And if she was unwilling to talk about herself, then, he would talk about something that was safer …..horses. She didn’t seem to object. It was natural, after all, for a knight, or one who had been a knight, to have a deep interest in horses. They were both a companion and a tool in combat. He had considered himself lucky that he had been able to acquire Sher-Fore. An Arabian stallion was not a common horse to be found, either in Britain, or in Northwestern Europe, he knew. He had just been in the right place at the right time. Now, his attention turned to Silver. “Now, your horse, your companion, Silver, would seem to be an interesting breed of horse. I don’t believe, in all of my travels, that I have ever seen a horse quite like him, either in appearance or in personality. Can you tell me any more about him or history?” As he waited on her answer about Silver he had re-emphasized the compliment that he had paid to both horse and rider, to which she had shyly responded. He replied to her with a smile and a simple, “You are welcome milady Dae.”

She still was unwilling to say much, if anything, about herself he noted. Although she had looked at him quite intently just a few moments ago, he noticed that she was doing her best to have her eyes avoid contact now. Her horse, though, seemed to have a different attitude, in that he seemed to have an even greater interest, not only in Sher-Fore, but in the former Knight as well. In fact, Silver seemed to draw even closer to Sher-Fore, while he looked back and made eye contact with Lancelot. It seemed that the horse was trying to convey some type of message to man, one that was not entirely clear to Lancelot, at least not yet. The former Knight smiled and shook his head, finding once more her horse to be a highly unusual animal, but one that appeared to have a high degree of native intelligence. It just seemed to be something that Lancelot could sense. Even Dae could see the connection that was being made, and she commented on it. “Yes …. I can sense it as well. I have always had a natural affinity for horses, but it is rare to be greeted by a horse that has that affinity towards yourself …. If you know what I mean.”

Although she did not say much, as Lancelot briefly told about himself, he could see as he glanced at her eyes, that her mind was at work. When she did speak, she did not really speak about herself, but directed her comments to him. She seemed to believe that he should have loved ones waiting for him, somewhere. “Perhaps I should explain myself more clearly, milady. I was raised in a small village far on the northwestern edge of Albion. When I reached my teens my parents arranged me to be apprenticed to a carpenter in a nearby town. However, even though I was learning a practical trade, I always was interested in swordcraft. Anyway, one day when I was away for my apprenticeship a group of Raiders from the Northern Plains struck and pillaged. There were apparently no survivors and after the fires little left standing. I swore on that day that I would never be in a situation where I could not defend myself from violence and would seek a knightly path. But that is the reason that I have no family and have never sought a close companion other than a horse.”

When she made a comment about ‘a man like him’ he questioned what she meant. Quickly, seeing the look on her face, he wondered if it had been too challenging of a question to give her and so soon. However, she hardly knew him. Why would she make such a comment? What assumptions had she already made about him? He wondered if everything that she thought about him presently was the ease that he had dispatched those half-dozen or more men with his bow. Despite putting her in an apparently uncomfortable position with his question, to his surprise she did answer, and what an answer it was. “A Heart of Gold? And what do you base that on, surely not on my deadly skill with a bow. Handsome?,” and with that comment, even with the fading light and his dark and tanned complexion, his blush could not be hidden. He thought about Gwen for a moment before responding to her follow-up comment, “No …. there is no one …. nor should there be,” fairly coldly. “The life I lead is not one that would make one wise to wait for me …. Handsome or not.” Her comment seemed to come straight out of the blue, and in a few moments she was looking straight ahead, almost as if she had not said anything. He had gone back to his story, referring to how his Knighthood had been lost. He noted that she listened to his monologue in silence once more. He decided to go into a bit more detail, and see what reaction he provoked. “On discovering my deception, confronting me, and stripping me of my Knighthood, Uther decided that was not enough. He had me sent to the dungeons. Arthur, though, on his own authority, freed me before he took the Knights out in search for the Gryffon. Even though it was a magical creature, they were going to try and destroy it. He told me to leave Camelot, but I could not abandon them in their hour of need.”

It was not because Lancelot was selfless. He wanted to be a Knight to serve, but he could not simply abandon the few friends he had to the deadly effects of the Gryffon. “So, you know King Uther? Yes, Uther’s views are from another time, but they are also views from a man who allow no views but his own. I had violated his signature rule …. The Code …. and I could never be forgiven.” His comment about the Gryffon, though, got her attention. She looked directly into his pale eyes with her icy blue ones, something she had not done much. “Yes, with a lance,” not mentioning the assistance he had received from Merlin. There are some secrets he would reveal to no one. He wondered how much she knew about these magical creatures. Few in Camelot appeared to have known much. In any case, the conversation switched from the magical creature to the men that had attacked her, and she explained what were their probable motives.

Surprisingly enough she gave him a direct thank you for what he had done to them, even though it was as brutal of an act as a single person could perform. However, he had to remember that the men he had faced down were at least equally as brutal. “Milady …. Dae …. you are quite welcome ….. and even though you no longer be queen if I were faced with the same situation a 100 times as would serve you 100 times in the same way. I may no longer be a knight in title, but I will always strive to act as if I were.” Lancelot did wonder if the touch of his hand had affected her in the same way that it had him. He doubted it. She had been a royal and he was not of her class. She was thankful for what he had done for her, but it probably went no further. Lancelot did not have much time to deliberate on such thoughts, as the sounds and movement that they had suddenly sensed began moving toward them at some speed. He could see as they began to move forward, that by the expression on her face, that there seemed to be something additional that Dae wanted to speak on. However, they sprang forward, heading deeper into the forest, and they had no time to speak further.

Her answer to his question about staying with him was short and direct and clear. He sensed that whatever concerns or doubts she had she was putting off to the side, and accepting Lancelot, at least for the time being. They speedily headed into the wood, and after traveling through the path of one stream so that their tracks could not be followed they crossed two more streams before cutting across an open clearing and coming to a stop at some open caves at the base of some hills ion the midst of the forest. In the time that it had taken them to travel the sky had grown dark and overhead the moon and the brightest of stars were visible. It was obvious that the horses needed a rest, but they also needed water. When Dae asked about walking back to one of the streams, Lancelot responded immediately. “I think, milady, that all of us are need of water, so I think all of us should take a slow walk back to the first of the streams. I have not brought you to safety in the midst of the Balor to risk losing you now,” he said, reaching and taking her by the hand once more.

[Faerydae Moriarty]

In the silence, her mind tended to wander. She could not decide if she and Lancelot were similar or not within their pasts, although, with Lancelot have been a knight who had simply broken the code, Faerydae felt as if they were much more similar now than they ever would have been in the past. A twinge of guilt could not help but to sit in the back of her mind. It had been a while since she had been exiled out of her kingdom, out of her husband’s home and her parent’s love, and yet, often times she still felt herself thinking back to the actions that had led to those consequences. Although, if given a second chance, the young woman felt that she might have tried to go on differently. After all, she had been queen, with a loving king, and even son. She should have known better that when Talberon had left, her love for him should have died along with it, not resume it as if nothing had happened the moment he returned from his endless journey. If that had been the case, he would not be dead now, nor would Keran, her son. Faerydae was not foolish though, she knew she thought of everything this way now for she had grown since then, she had been young and foolish at 19 years of age, and within a short time, she had become a woman.

She felt more peace now by herself in the cage of the woods now than she would ever with people in a city. Her eyes glanced over towards the rouge knight for a moment, almost feeling guilty that she was the one who simply asked questions of his past without giving any of hers. The way he answered her almost seemed, to her at least, that he felt obligated to have answered them even though he shouldn’t have to, because she had been a queen and if that had still been the case, he would have to answer to her, not because he wanted to and in return, did not ask her anything because he knew she wouldn’t. For her though, while everything had happened years ago, the young woman still felt that she was unable to forgive herself and let go. And until that time, she would carry the burden by herself for her actions were not of something that she deemed required sympathy from anybody, if anything, they might scare people away. Of course, by people, it only meant Lancelot, although, only time would even tell how long that this mutual agreement of companionship would last until either one of them had to leave the other.

And even if this come to a swift end, Faerydae knew that she would always have the white stallion. He did not seem intent of leaving her, for he had countless of times where he could have fled and left her easily. But instead, when he did leave, he always came back no matter the situation. It seemed that she had found herself a lifelong companion within the horse, one who understood her unlike others and lifted the burden ever so slightly along with filling the gaping hole in her heart, or at least, most of it. After all, she was not stupid, if it had not been for him coming to her that day in the woods, the young woman would have been dead by her own hand. With the conversation at hand being on horses though, it was easy to see why it had been chosen. While it was something that she could talk about, it was also something that they both could relate to, “Now your horse, your companion, Silver, would seem to be an interesting breed of horse. I don’t believe, in all of my travels, that I have ever seen a horse quite like him, either in appearance or in personality. Can you tell me anything more about him or his history?”

Her hand reached out and stroked the white stallion’s shoulder blade, caressing it before she spoke, “He is of the Elder Breed,” she replied now as Silver’s ears twitched, knowing he was being talked about, “They are a breed in which the ancestors of Albion said to be blessed by their gods at the beginning of time, making them faster, stronger, and of extraordinary intelligence, which is why Silver is responsive to our words for he can fully understand every word,” there was a pause in her voice as she gave some thought to what she would say next, “I suppose you have not seen one yet for they live in the wild Albion which has yet to be tamed by mankind and they are selective as to who should witness their grace and beauty.” She was certain that it was everything, and it was not long before Lancelot responded to her thank you. While he did not use ‘your highness’ anymore, he still used the term ‘milady’ and while she wished he hadn’t, for it almost felt there was still that barrier between them that did not exist anymore, Faerydae chose to not argue about it, at least for now. Her gaze moved towards the black Arabian now before asking a question, “And what of Sher-Fore? I hear his kind comes from lands where there is nothing to be seen but vast oceans of sand, and the sun so hot that it makes images appear out of thin air.”

It was funny how Silver and her acted so differently around the pair, but of course, the white stallion did not need to talk unlike her, “Yes…I can sense it as well. I have always had a natural affinity for horses, but it is rare to be greeted by a horse that has that affinity towards yourself…if you know what I mean,” Lancelot commented now. Ice blue eyes simply rested on the horse now as he continued to attempt to engage in play with the black Arabian. There were times she wished that Silver could talk, so he could explain his actions. Everybody else they had encountered, Silver had disliked or had barely put up with, but usually, those encounters only lasted for a half a day, if that. Something told her that this may last longer than that time frame, “Yes, I do,” she replied now, her thoughts still on Silver’s behavior. Of course though, everything could have come down to the fact that Lancelot had merely not said or done anything to upset the white stallion, not yet at least. But for now, he seemed content with the situation as he viewed it for now.

As she thought about the knight now though, it would have seemed, to him at least, that she was slightly wrong at the idea that he should have loved ones, and therefore corrected her by telling her, “Perhaps I should explain myself more clearly, milady,” he stated now and her ice blue eyes glanced over at him as he began to tell her his story, “I was raised in a small village far on the northwestern edge of Albion. When I reached my teens my parents arranged me to be apprenticed to a carpenter in a nearby town. However, even though I was learning a practical trade, I always was interested in swordcraft. Anyway, one day when I was away for my apprenticeship a group of Raiders from the Northern Plains struck and pillaged. There were apparently no survivors and after the fires little left standing. I swore on that day that I would never be in a situation where I could not defend myself from violence and would seek a knightly path. But that is the reason that I have no family and have never sought a close companion other than a horse.” She listened to his tale thoughtfully before glancing away and finally commenting, “I am sorry to hear that you have such a tale,” but she supposed that some of the most noble men have the saddest stories. Of course, life had a funny way of working, and may times, it decided to dealt blows that were hardly fair to shape one’s destiny.

There was of course, that awkward silence that hung in the air between them, for she hardly had expected him to inquire of her comment. Faerydae supposed that it might have been too much to ask to expect that it would have just been allowed to slide by unnoticed, “A heart of gold? And what do you base that on, surely not on my deadly skill with a bow,” he replied now. Her gaze remained rooted ahead of her for the time being, “No. If that had been the case, Silver and I would have not waited around for you in the wood,” she replied easily enough, “Through words alone, Lancelot, you have shown me much about your character and you have hardly realized it,” Faerydae replied now. Out of the corner of her eye now, the young woman caught sight of the most quizzical thing, “Handsome?” he asked of her now, clearly questioning her judgment, but that was not what had caught her attention. While his skin was of a tanned complexion, no doubt from his life in the wild, it could not conceal the blush that was crossing his cheeks. Quickly, her gaze moved back to trees now, but the faintest of smiles rested on her lips now, “Yes,” she replied quietly, and it was a simple answer to no doubt end the conversation now. Although, there was still something that seemed to hang on Lancelot’s mind and as she glanced over to him now, something flashed across his features, but she could not make out what thoughts they might have been of until he spoke, “No. There is no one…nor should there be. The life I lead is not one that would make one wise to wait for me…handsome or not.”

His answer had surprised her, not just in words, but also in tone. He sounded cold almost, and hurt. Ice blue eyes glanced back over at him now for a moment, if anything; he had just reminded her of Janus now. Whoever had flashed across his mind must have done something to make him respond in such away. Either way though, the young woman knew a dangerous topic when it was presented, and instead of making a comment, she made none at all and allowed the conversation all together to end at that, for they did not know each other enough, in her mind, to talk of such a heart break. Quickly breaking free from the topic at hand though, Lancelot referred back to his story of short knighthood, and as always, Faerydae listened to it in silence, “On discovering my deception, confronting me, and stripping me of my Knighthood, Uther decided that was not enough. He had me sent to the dungeons. Arthur, though, on his own authority, freed me before he took the Knights out in search for the Gryffon. Even though it was a magical creature, they were going to try and destroy it. He told me to leave Camelot, but I could not abandon them in their hour of need.” There were not a lot of people who could do that, go back after being thrown in a dungeon, which seemed a little extreme to her, but Uther, after all, was Uther, and he took things differently.

“So, you know King Uther? Yes, Uther’s views are from another time, but they are also views from a man who allow no views but his own. I had violated his signature rule …. The Code …. and I could never be forgiven.” Of course, while it was true that she knew Uther, the young woman only knew of the Uther that she had witnessed at royal gatherings and treaties between Balor and Camelot, and what of Janus told of her. Although, it did not take a lot to get to truly understand Uther Pendragon, “I did not know him as well as Janus, but every man comes with their reputation. Besides, I’m sure that he saw me more as Janus’s trophy wife than a true queen.” Her concentration at the topic at hand did not stay on there for long, for the talk of defeating the gryffon was what held her attention the most and it may have been the longest that her ice blue eyes held his pale gaze, “Yes, with a lance.” Surely not, after all, griffons were of magic, it only takes magic to kill magic, all other manmade objects shattered on direct contact. Even Silver himself took a pause at tugging on the Arabian’s mane to stare at him with amber eyes, “It takes more than a lance to defeat such an animal,” she replied now, and Silver nodded his head in the slightest way before going back to his own entertainment.

He almost seemed surprised at her words, perhaps he did not expect a thank you for the violence that had taken place, but how Faerydae looked at it, it had either been them or her who would have ended up dead, “Milady …. Dae …. you are quite welcome ….. and even though you no longer be queen if I were faced with the same situation a 100 times as would serve you 100 times in the same way. I may no longer be a knight in title, but I will always strive to act as if I were.” At those words, she glanced over towards him now for a brief moment, “That is a noble thing for you to say of a girl that you’ve only just met, Lancelot,” she replied now, but her mind was elsewhere and still thinking about what had happened moments before, and of course, she had been the one to initiate it. Faerydae had not even been sure what had gone through her mind to do such a thing, touching his hand for the briefest of moments, when after all of this time, she had refused to make any sort of contact with other humans period. It was just something that she could not entirely explain with her head.

Time to dwell of this came abruptly to a stop now though, for there was noise within the woods, and it was clear that Silver was not fond of it at all. All what she could hope for that it was not those men again coming back for revenge, for that would only make them more dangerous than they had been before. Her eyes glanced over towards the rouge knight once more, wondering if she was doing the right thing by putting her trust in him, as well as staying by his side for the time being, for it was a dangerous world out there for him to be with her, even if he was only being brave. She pushed her thoughts to the back of her mind for now though, as Silver took off into the brush and carefully navigating his way, always staying caught up with Sher-Fore, and even so boldly to run ahead of him a couple of times. Crossing the clearing had been beautiful though with the opening that allowed the stars to be shown dazzling in the night sky before they headed back into the woods, and there, the caves shown like a gaping hole in the hill side. Silver stood strong, staring at the cave with his amber eyes as the hoof beats of Sher-Fore stopped right beside him. For the rest of the wood, all was quiet yet again, for now; they had lost whatever had been trying to find them.

The moment in which that his companion had suggested that she return to the stream, Silver had backed up slightly and turned now so that he stood facing the direction in which they had come from, ready to leave already, but simply waited for the permission to take her even if he had not been the one to ask, “I think, milady, that all of us are need of water, so I think all of us should take a slow walk back to the first of the streams. I have not brought you to safety in the midst of the Balor to risk losing you now,” she had been surprised when he responded so quickly, but even more when he took her hand in his now. Startled almost, ice blue eyes glanced down to their hands now. The electric shock had come back, but now she was almost certain it was her own mind reacting from the touch, as if there was a force between them. Her whole hand seemed to fit in his, the only part left exposed was her thumb, but that was not the most notable thing. His hand was rough, calloused by the blade in which he wield as well bow string which he shot, and yet, they felt soft to her, no different than the muzzle of a horse. It made her feel...safe. After a moment of hesitation, her thumb moved and lightly grazed over his first two knuckles before moving over the top of his last two fingers in an arch like motion; a simple but caring caress. Her lips parted ever so slightly, to say something but she had not the chance.

During the time, Silver had been watching them closely. The white stallion had turned his neck and eyed their hands closely now as the man had taken Faerydae’s hand within his own. A twinge of jealousy flashed before the horse, but Silver had done nothing until his amber eyes witnessed his companion returning the motion in her own way. Before anything could be said between them though, Silver moved forward without warning, a cruel thing to do, but the horse thought it should be done. Without having a saddle, if she were not paying attention, the young woman could slide right off. Faerydae indeed felt herself slip ever so slightly and out of fear of falling, quickly tore her hand right out of Lancelot’s to steady herself on top of Silver’s back as he moved to create a short distance between himself and the black Arabian. He stomped the ground and stared back at the knight now and shook his head, letting out an annoyed whinny, clearly not accustomed to sharing attention of that matter from Faerydae with somebody else. Jealousy was not a fine feature on any being, human or not. The young woman’s gaze moved from her horse back to Lancelot not for the briefest of moments, her gaze dropped though, almost feeling ashamed, “I’m sorry…should we go now?” she asked quietly, allowing herself to steal a glance at Lancelot once more, waiting his answer.

[Deleted]

He had noticed, as they had stood at the edge of the clearing, how silent she was. She seemed to use her silence, though, as he watched her icy blue eyes, it was obvious that the mind behind them was constantly at work. She was obviously a loner and a nomad, as he was, but he wondered how far the similarity between them ran beyond that. She had been royalty, but he had started out in life as the most common. So, their starting points …. Their foundations ….could not be much more different. Between her eyes and her hair he found her appearance to be quite striking, and beautiful. It was undeniable that he felt a natural attraction to her. However, he had felt a natural attraction to Gwen, and it seemed that she had felt the same way in return. He had discovered, though, that there had been even earlier feelings between Arthur and Gwen. As soon as he knew about those, he knew that the relationship with Gwen, and his relationship with his other friends, would become too complicated. He had wondered, though, what would have happened if he would have tried to compete with Arthur for her affections. It would have made sense, since he and Gwen were of the same social class, basically. However, he had turned his back, and there was no way to reverse it now. He recognized that both Dae and he were nomads, but their social classes, even though she was not a royal now, would be difficult to navigate.

He really knew little of her, though, and the history of her kingdom, so in many ways he would be blind to what her experiences were and how she viewed others. Of course he had no idea how long he would stay with the former queen, but he planned on staying as long as she would have him. He had seen her suddenly give him an inquiring glance, and he wondered what it meant. He wondered if she had a question for him, or maybe even something that she wanted to tell him about herself. He knew that he had talked quite a lot, something that he was not used to doing, and that he had not had a lot of opportunity to do. She had not. He had been willing to give her some time and space, to open up, at her own pace. He now understood what she had been, a queen, even if he was a bit unclear as to whatever she was now. It was evident that she had experienced a lot, and that it had made her the person she was. However, he knew that he had opened up about as much as he could, comfortably. For all that he had said, she probably didn’t really know that much about him. Would she choose to open up some, or would they just choose to talk about horses for the rest of the time, he wondered.

He could tell, as they traveled towards the deeper forest it seemed that she was relaxing a bit more, if it was possible for her to relax at all. Even as she seemed to feel more comfortable, though, he got the distinct feeling that there was something that stood around her, blocking her from the rest of the world. If that was the case, he thought, it would be natural for her to feel more secure in the dense forest. He got the distinct feeling that she liked to be able to hide, just as small game hid in the underbrush, while she used her eyes to observe everything. She was an enigma, he thought, but an interesting and beautiful one as well. Although she trusted him enough to protect her, he considered, she probably did not trust that he would be around as a traveling companion. She did not probably have much good experience with others staying with her long. On the other hand, he thought it was likely, that the horse Silver was ever-present. Lancelot sighed, knowing that he was not likely to get anything personal out of her, unless it dealt with horses, so he somewhat reluctantly bent the conversation back toward horses. At least, in bringing this subject up, he would get to hear her voice, he knew.

Just bringing up the subject of horses, and her horse in particular, seemed to provoke within he a physical response. This time, for example, it caused her to reach out and not only touch Silver, but to caress him slightly. Finally, then, she did respond. He listened carefully to what she said about her horse and its ancestry. Much of what she had said was the stuff of legend. He knew, though, as much as anyone, that legends had at least a kernel of truth in them, and he wouldn’t be surprised at how much of this legend was truth as well. After all, he had known many who even doubted the existence of magic, and he had seen enough proof from Merlin alone to know exactly how real magic was. “Ah ….the Elder Breed. I have never been privileged enough to see one myself, and seeing is believing, I must say. I would indeed have to say that appear to be blessed with many gifts. I will leave it to more learned folk to know and understand the source of those gifts. It is enough, for a simple soldier like me, to know that they have them, and accept that truth. Yes… yes …. I have seen how understanding that this one can be. Who am I to doubt? As I said, I am quite fortunate to have seen this one, and I expect it is a special gift that I have been allowed to see this one,” he commented somewhat reverently.”

Lancelot was glad to see that she finally recognized his compliment and responded to it. That was something at least. However, although he no longer called her queen, but milady, he could still see that she was resistant to it, just by her body language. “Though you be not a queen still, a lady of your lineage and beauty and grace, must still be shown deference. If you weree Dae, and I am to be allowed to call you in that ’familiar’ name, I must also be allowed to show deference, as you are still in a class beyond my reach.” He smiled as she asked a question of his horse, of which he was happy to answer. “Sher-Fore …. yes …. he does come from a place in which there is a never ending sea of white sand, only occasionally interrupted by oases of water and plants. Yes …. They are called mirages. He was but just beyond a colt when I did battle with an Arab chieftain …killed him … and won him as my spoil of battle. He had been badly mistreated and I won him over by the love and care I showed him,” he said as he looked into her icy blue eyes for a long moment and then looked away.

She responded to his statement about horses and humans, and the affinity that each had for the other with a simple affirmative statement, but for her, he knew now, was like speaking volumes. He gathered, at last, that she spoke not with words, but with actions, sometimes large ones, as in battle, and sometimes with just a touch. He wondered if she realized how significant a touch could be to a knight who had experienced almost nothing of such things. It seemed that Silver, for good or for bad, understood such things more clearly. At least for now, it seemed apparent that Lancelot was acceptable to Silver, just as Sher-Fore was. She had spoken to him of loved ones of his own he should have, and so he told her much of the sorry tale of his youth. “Alas, milady …. Dae, it is not a story that is unique to me, and therefore I should not be the subject of pity more than anyone else. It simply …. cut me off and cut me loose from my natural moorings. I would be a carpenter today, instead of the man I am. It played a role in forming me, at any rate.”

Some more silence had passed, and then she suddenly stated some things, and he had thought them quite out of character for her. Had she really expected that he would just let them go? Lancelot responded with a more or less rhetorical question, and quite surprisingly she had volleyed right back. “Hmmm …. so why did you wait then, and what could I have possibly said in my words that indicate anything about my character. I have known many a man who were so slick in their words that you could tell nothing about them.” While waiting for her response to that answer, he saw a sideways glance from her about his questioning the word ‘handsome’. He knew he had colored at the word, but was sure that it could not be recognized. Her quiet answer, he had learned, indicated a determined answer, and an indication she did not want to discuss it further, he thought. “Well, isn’t that interesting.” He had decided that the best way to terminate the topic with an enigmatic one of his own. She would never know, as would anybody else, that it referred to Gwen, likely the future queen of Camelot.

He watched her closely, to see what her response was to his somewhat mysterious statement. Whatever she thought, he could see by her body language, was that there was some level of surprise there, as if he had reacted in a way that she didn’t expect. He wondered if it was the words, or merely the way he had said them, or maybe even both. After several moments, though, he saw the look fade from her face, and her eyes look down, and not a word or syllable come from her lips. That was the response that he had grown to expect from her. In a way, he almost wished that she had given him a follow-up question. He could have explained himself some, at any rate. However, this was such a personal subject and issue with him, that he could not just blurt it out. He would have to keep his own counsel, as he always had until the day and hour came that she wanted to know more. If she did not ask, he reasoned, that just meant that he was not interesting enough for her to ask. Obviously, he thought, as she had listened to his story about his knighthood, they had moved on to other things. He has explained to her, as best he could, that even after being stripped of his knighthood, and freed from the dungeons that he could not abandon Arthur, even though he was the son of King Uther. He wondered what Dae thought of that …. Probably thought it was not a wise choice, he thought silently.

He really wasn’t surprised that she knew King Uther, after all she had been queen in the region, but he did wonder how well she had known hi, and if she had had similar views of Knights. Would she have acted the same? Hmmmm …. So she had apparently known him by reputation. “And what was that reputation, milady?” He mulled over what she said for a moment, before blurting out, “I can see how he would have thought of you as quite a trophy, but also I am sure the finest of queens, I would imagine.” However, her real interest, obviously, was with the Gryffon. She seemed to be interested in how he had eliminated it, and he repeated that he had killed it with a lance. “It takes more than a lance to defeat such an animal,” she replied, and he saw an apparent nod of agreement from Silver, as well as a look from Sher-Fore now. Only Sher-Fore, other than Arthur knew the truth. Lancelot wondered whether the horse would in some way pass the information to Silver and then Silver to Dae, but he owed Merlin at least his silence. “Well then, perhaps the lance had been enchanted before I had it, and I was just lucky to be the one to use it.”

He had thought it best to change the subject quickly, and he had answered her thank you for what he had done with her attackers. He just wanted to say that his principles would always require him to act in the way that he had, and he would do it again, no matter what she or anybody else thought of him. She looked his way once more, as if to prepare him, before replying. “That is a noble thing for you to say of a girl that you’ve only just met, Lancelot.” His mind was still responding to the electricity that he had felt from the former queen’s touch, and doing his best to keep his emotions in check. “As I said, I would do it, time and again, whether it was you or someone else. I would feel duty-bound to do what was right.” Within moments, though, what had just passed between them was gone, as they began to react to the sounds of movement around them, and began to move for the deeper forest. The horses had seemed to move at the same time, but the more agile Sher-Fore navigated the small trees and brush more easily. However, just before they reached the stream that they would lose their pursuers in, Silver had caught up and taken the lead.

They had finally reached the caves, when Dae had decided that she had wanted to return to a stream to clean her wound. Lancelot was not willing to let her be outside of his protection, and back in the direction of their pursuers as well. Afraid that she would leave without him, and indicating that he had not seen her through so much to lose her now, he reached out and took hold of her hand, and the electricity returned once more. Where, before, he had only believed that the effect was on his part, her reaction indicated otherwise, as her free thumb caressed his fingers. He thought, by seeing her lips move in the light moonlight that she was trying to say something, as their lips became only inches apart, suddenly Silver moved, breaking the moment, and the way the horse looked in his eyes and flared his nostrils, it was clear that Silver did nor approve. Lancelot looked down, suddenly, saying, “There is nothing for you to apologize for. It is clear that Silver does not approve, and he is probably correct. You may not hold the title, but you are still a queen, milady, as I am still a Knight, at least in our principles. Perhaps you and Silver should go to the stream alone. I shall remain here with Sher-Fore. If you do not return, we will understand,” and he turned his horse into the cave, jumped down, and began to gather kindling, purposely not looking to see whether they had stayed or left.

[Faerydae Moriarty]

While her eyes remained locked on the strands of her horse’s mane, the young woman’s mind was elsewhere. In wandered around in circles, but the topic at focus always seemed to be on the knight and his black Arabian. It was hard to explain really, for she was uncertain as to why he would be the focus of her attention. Hardly has she ever thought of anybody this constantly since Talberon, and that had been a long time ago. Not had she even given Janus this much thought back when she had been queen, and yet this fallen knight, this nomad, almost seemed to bewitch her mind. There was no doubt in her mind that he was attractive, perhaps one of the most attractive men that she had seen in her life time. Between his darker complexion made by the sun, along with his dark hair, there was no doubt that he was nice to look at, but what held her most captive were his eyes, that is, when she dared to look at him at all. They were pale and expressive, and held onto emotion and nobility much more than she had seen in anybody’s eyes except for one. People say that the eyes were mirrors to the soul, and Faerydae found herself wondering if that were true, and even more so, what he thought of her.

Of course though, Lancelot did not know a lot about her, actually, he knew nothing of her for she had yet to share anything. It truly is an ugly monster to wrestle with, and she had nobody to blame but herself because he was not pressuring her in the slightest. But it was difficult to come to terms with oneself, and she had never told anybody but the white stallion who traveled with her. After all, how does one choose to finally let go of the past and move on? Faerydae found herself uncertain about it, and yet, it was as if this whole day had awoken her from a deep slumber. Fear still sat heavy in her heart though, after all, the people of Balor had no problem judging her for her actions, and Lancelot could be no different. Although, should fear really sit inside her? It was almost as if she feared telling him anything about herself and hearing his judgment more than what those men could have done to her, what anybody could have done to her. The young woman fought hard against letting out a sigh of frustration at her thoughts, after all, why should it matter to her? Why should any of this matter to her? This long and winding road was a long and painful one, and she didn’t even know where she stood in her fate, or whether she had any control of it at all.

A snort escaped Silver now, breaking her concentration for a moment. He turned his head over so slightly glance back at her, and her ice blue eyes just rested on him for a moment before turning her attention back towards the woods now, her thoughts wandering back in the comfort of the woods now. It was odd to her, they were going deeper into the woods of Balor now, a place where people often feared the depths of its darkness and what lies within it, but these thoughts never crossed her mind. The woods were tranquil, and nothing more. Being a nomad was a much different lifestyle than that of a queen, or even a noblewoman which had been the background that she had originally came from. It made her curious if her parents ever thought of her, or even her brothers. But to hide in the shadows was a wonderful thing that kept her at peace with her life now, unknown to Albion and its people. Hearing a small sigh escape Lancelot, her gaze moved back over towards the knight now for a split second as they continued to walk through the woods. He had not said anything to her, nor was he looking in her direction. Of course, Faerydae felt certain that she knew what it was about, and he probably did not even realize what he did. Although, she would not comment on it.

Perhaps horses were the only conversation that they had going for them. Only time would tell if she were truly up to sharing anything or just kept him in the dark. For now, it seemed to keep them both content and he did listen to her talk of Silver’s ancestry. The young woman was quite curious to see if he would accept such a thing, for believers were hard to come by, and with the fear of magic spreading across the lands, talk of anything that could be pertained to magic was such a crime. It was only but a moment before Lancelot answered though, “Ah ….the Elder Breed. I have never been privileged enough to see one myself, and seeing is believing, I must say. I would indeed have to say that appear to be blessed with many gifts. I will leave it to more learned folk to know and understand the source of those gifts. It is enough, for a simple soldier like me, to know that they have them, and accept that truth. Yes… yes …. I have seen how understanding that this one can be. Who am I to doubt? As I said, I am quite fortunate to have seen this one, and I expect it is a special gift that I have been allowed to see this one,” he replied now. She listened to his words for a moment before finally commenting with the hint of a smile, “I think we both were lucky,” after all, Silver could have not shown himself even to her, he could have just let her go ahead and killed herself that day in the woods, and yet, the stallion had appeared like a ghost and pushed away the dagger from her hand. For a while, she always wondered what Silver had seen in her that day that made him wish to save her from her own hand.

In between that time though, he had used the word ‘milady’, and while she had not said anything, the word could not help but to make her cringe in the slightest way. It was a separation that she did not wish upon them, something that she did not wish upon anybody. While she thought that her body movements had been unnoticeable, she stood corrected by Lancelot, who seemed to have witnessed the whole thing, “Though you be not a queen still, a lady of your lineage and beauty and grace, must still be shown deference. If you were Dae, and I am to be allowed to call you in that ’familiar’ name, I must also be allowed to show deference, as you are still in a class beyond my reach.” Her lips twisted slightly, but she kept her gaze ahead of her, wishing to argue, but knew that she would lose against him, “There is no class in the woods.” They were both stubborn in their own ways, and it became clear that they both had their own ideas of what is considered proper. Perhaps it was just of his knight status though that he thought in such a way, but oh, how she hated it. Out of the corner of her eyes now, the young woman caught sight of his smile now as the conversation was quick to revert back to the horses, but his black Arabian now, “Sher-Fore …. yes …. he does come from a place in which there is a never ending sea of white sand, only occasionally interrupted by oases of water and plants. Yes …. They are called mirages. He was but just beyond a colt when I did battle with an Arab chieftain …killed him … and won him as my spoil of battle. He had been badly mistreated and I won him over by the love and care I showed him,”

As he spoke, she turned her head to give him her full attention, and their eyes locked. His pale eyes stared into hers for a rather long moment and time almost seemed to stop for a moment before Lancelot broke the gaze. Her own eyes lingered on his turned face for a moment before her eyes dropped to the black Arabian that she and her own horse walked alongside of. So, the lands were true, she could hardly imagine what it would be like to travel over seas of hot sand, how desolate the area must have been. But horses were bred to survive their climates and lands, and she wondered if the change of pace proved to be more of a shock for the black horse than anything, “It is cruel that anybody could have hurt such a beautiful horse,” she replied softly now. How Faerydae hated it when people mistreated their horses, they were a majestic animal, and in so many ways, far more beautiful than any human and understanding, and scar so much more easily. The young woman wondered who long it took for Sher-Fore to recover, to allow Lancelot into his life and give him his trust, “Are you the only one he allows to lay a hand on him?” she asked now, but her gaze did not leave the black stallion even as their conversation shifted to bonds between horse and man. Her answer had not been long nor drawn out, but short and simple. Sometimes, she felt that she did not need words to speak her ideas, sometimes she just spoke with action, although, it was hard to tell if made Lancelot uncomfortable or not, for she often felt herself too caught up with her own feelings at hand.

Perhaps though, it was truly the horses who had a better understanding of the concept than they did. After all, it is not the human who chooses the horse, but the horse who chooses the rider. After all, Sher-Fore may have never accepted Lancelot, nor Silver may have come to her. Even bought horses may not fully accept their ‘masters’, and still put up a fuss. Not all the time was the human reigned as the boss. The conversation changed though, and she had been the one to change it. Curious to see if he had any loved ones, because surely, he must have had them, but not in the form of parents sadly, it seemed for they had left the world and as she expressed her sadness for him, Lancelot was quick to answer, “Alas, milady …. Dae, it is not a story that is unique to me, and therefore I should not be the subject of pity more than anyone else. It simply …. cut me off and cut me loose from my natural moorings. I would be a carpenter today, instead of the man I am. It played a role in forming me, at any rate.” Her gaze rested on him for a few moments before returning away, thinking to herself for a moment, “All of our past shapes us who we are today,” the young woman murmured cryptically to herself. It was cruel, the games that life played on them all, to shape them towards better destinies, it would remove what held them back. At least, for Lancelot it did, for herself, she was quite uncertain of what greater pathway lay ahead of her, perhaps she was just simply lost in the shadows of her mind, forever and always.

The silence had uprooted itself from the shadows when she had spoke, and had simply hoped that Lancelot would have left everything at that, but clearly, she had been foolish to do so. While she thought that she might have terminated the subject by now, Lancelot clearly did not let go of something so easily, “Hmmm …. so why did you wait then, and what could I have possibly said in my words that indicate anything about my character. I have known many a man who were so slick in their words that you could tell nothing about them.” It had been a long time since somebody had questioned her words so easily, and find herself at a slight loss. After a moment though, a small smile graced her lips, “You make it sound as if I was the only one who made the choice to wait for you and to follow after you,” after all, it had been Silver who thought through most of it, and had taken her out of her uncertainties about the situation, for now at least. Her ice blue eyes glanced over towards him now though, “Knights don’t lie, and if you did, you would certainly be the first I’ve ever known,” she replied with ease. Although, the conversation centered around the ‘handsome’ aspect now, but just as she had been easily willing to end it, so was he, for he as well finished it off with his own conversation ending statement. While she could not have been certain, it might had referred to more than just this conversation.

His eyes were on her now, she could feel them as she stared down at Silver’s mane during the silence. It was a sticky situation in which she had found herself in, trying to figure out what to do. While she had before thought it might be wise to just not speak of the topic at hand, whether he had a lover or not, curiosity was tugging at her. But his words had been, cold, harsh almost, that she was certain that it was a dangerous route to go, and Faerydae did not wish to upset him in any way by bringing up a relic of the past for him. But it had to have been a girl, somebody that he had cared for tremendously. At first, the thought came to her mind that perhaps, like his parents, she had perished in some way. But if that had been the case, his words would have been filled of sadness, not an underlying coldness. No, this woman of his was still very much alive. She wondered, whether she had been from Camelot, for that was the last place where something appeared very stable in his nomadic life before Uther’s rules came crashing down upon him. The young woman wondered what the knight thought of this, whether her silence was a good thing or a bad thing, even if he had grown accustomed to it. And while it did not carry a hidden message, she wondered if his silence did. It was not something he was clearly willing to talk about on his own, not for himself to bring it up at least. So where did that leave her? Full of curiosity but too afraid to ask such a question of him? After a moment though, she dared to speak, but it was barely above a whisper, “Did she hurt you?”

The tables had taken a turn though, and everything had soon gone to Lancelot’s short lived knighthood thanks to Uther Pendragon. Although, the knight himself seemed interested in the king’s reputation. After a moment, he finally did ask her of the reputation, although, she could not be entirely certain as to why for she often believed that everybody knew of Uther Pendragon, “A man of the old ways, rules his kingdom with an iron fist and a fear of magic. After all, it was he who started the purge, what kind of reputation do you think would follow a man for a lifetime after that?” she inquired now, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts. Her attention returned to the woods, but not for long, “I can see how he would have thought of you as quite a trophy, but also I am sure the finest of queens, I would imagine.” His words startled her, for they were abrupt, but the content caught her interest as well. She glanced over towards him for a second, even Silver did at the mentioning of the ‘trophy’ status. Her gaze remained on him for a moment before her gaze finally dropped and she glanced back towards the woods now, “Once upon a time, I was,” she murmured softly. It was saddening to her, that he seemed to paint her royalty in a positive light when the young woman had felt anything but that. While she had been a wife to Janus, answering to him in his every need and being the perfect queen that she tried to be, all those memories were wiped upon the moment of the discovery of her and Talberon in the woods.

But now was not the time to dwell on such things, and her curiosity and taken a turn in the tale of the gryphon now, as well as the white stallion’s. Their attention rested on Lancelot, wondering how he would find a way to get around her statement now. She noticed how the black Arabian shifted his head ever so slightly to look back at his rider now, so the horse knew as well, “Well then,” he started now, and Faerydae almost felt as if she might hang on his every word now, “Perhaps the lance had been enchanted before I had it, and I was just lucky to be the one to use it,” he countered her now. Ice blue eyes just rested on him, along with Silver’s amber eyes. Silence passed for a moment; he was protecting somebody, a magic user that was easy enough to tell. While she wished to ask him about it, it became rather clear that it would not get her anywhere. Whoever this person had been, Lancelot must find them to be a great friend to jump through these hoops to answer her persistent questions. A snort escaped Silver and he shook his head slightly before turning his attention back towards the woods now, as if putting an end to the conversation. Her gaze still lingered on the knight for a moment though before finally commenting, “You were very lucky, indeed.”

The conversation had been quick to come to an end, on both of their parts though as the topics shifted as quickly as the shore’s waves. They talked of her attackers and what he had done, the thank yous that had come out of it as well as the principles. But perhaps, both of their minds lingered on a single thing that neither of them realized how much affected them: her touch. Although, her thoughts could not linger on it for any longer as Lancelot spoke now, but there was something different about his voice, as if trying to keep himself in check. But of what, Faerydae did not know, “As I said, I would do it, time and again, whether it was you or someone else. I would feel duty-bound to do what was right.” It was odd to think of how he still lived by the knight code even though he had been stripped of his title. In many ways, Lancelot was so different from her and perhaps, the better person as well. But she did not comment on it, and simply nodded her head slightly, showing her understanding of the matter. The horses moved quickly though through the trees now though, at the sudden urgency that seemed to take upon them to leave this part of the woods as well as whatever they had heard and soon came across the caves and came to a halt and everything seemed to change so quickly.

Lancelot had taken hold of her hand, and she was not entirely certain why, but it affected her on so many ways that she was uncertain of whether she could even describe it. The spark of electricity was there, and she made her own move. The moment might have lasted forever if it had not been for Silver to quickly break up the mood and kill it quickly. His neck was arched and his ears had flattened considerable as he snorted and flared his nostrils, annoyed by their actions. Faerydae was uncertain of where the white stallion placed his frustration, but either way, it had affected the knight. Ice blue eyes glanced over towards him now as Lancelot’s eyes dropped now and he spoke, “There is nothing for you to apologize for. It is clear that Silver does not approve, and he is probably correct. You may not hold the title, but you are still a queen, milady, as I am still a Knight, at least in our principles. Perhaps you and Silver should go to the stream alone. I shall remain here with Sher-Fore. If you do not return, we will understand.” Her own eyes widen at his words, they were almost like a slap to the face, and the stung harder than any of the hits that she had taken from her attackers. The young woman watched now as he slid of his great horse and lead the animal into the caves now before Lancelot, himself, began to gather wood for a fire, she assumed, but he never once did look their way.

The white stallion had taken a step towards the stream now, almost dictating what they should do, but she did not agree, and slid off Silver now and hit the ground lightly. Upon the ground, she felt small, although, her tiny stature of five foot two probably had something to do with that. After a moment though, she started walking towards Lancelot now. Silver noticed this and quickly trotted over towards her now, seeing if he could cut her off but she just moved around him and it was not long until she placed herself right in front of the knight now. Faerydae bit her lip slightly, thinking of what to say, but even know, she found herself uncertain if he was even paying any attention to her, “I am not a queen,” she said finally, her voice almost filled with defiance at such a concept, “When I became Queen, I was young and foolish, and it cost the lives of two people who I had held most important in my life, and neither one of them was my king. Upon my exile, I tried to kill myself with my own hands in these very woods, and I would have done it if it were not for Silver who had shown himself and stopped me. On one bad judgment and discovery, I had shamed my kingdom, and my family, and most of all, my king… if you wish to place me on a higher class than you, then do it, but do not tell me that I have the principles of a queen, because I don’t.” A sigh escaped her, she had never told anybody this, not anybody who had not known of her story, "I don't want to leave you Lancelot, but if you wish it of me, I will if that is what you are asking now," she replied softly now, her eyes gazing down at her feet now.

From a few feet back, the white stallion had stood there, watching the whole scene. His ears twitched a little at her painful words, never had Silver thought that he would hear those words come out of her mouth again. While it was not the whole story, the white stallion knew that it was a lot more than anybody would ever get and while Lancelot had saved her life, Silver himself, was still uncertain of whether the knight was completely worth of that knowledge, time would only tell, and maybe even his answer now would set the tone. Either way, he knew that there was some held confusion on his companion's part. Being told to go to the stream without him had made her nervous, Silver sensed that much. After all, if the two of them were to leave and go down to the stream by themselves, who was to say that he would not leave? The horse's tail swished back and forth now, amber eyes locked on the two humans and waiting to see what would happen.

[Deleted]

Lancelot could not help but recognize how preoccupied she seemed as they began to move through the forest. She did not look at him, as frequently, he recognized, she avoided making eye contact with him. She was unquestionably a strange woman. Perhaps she had been separated from people long enough that she had basically become a woman of the forest, he thought. At times, it seemed, here and her horse seemed to be one, as if they were of one mind. That had been the case when they had first met, he considered. However, as time had gone on, in what little they had communicated, she seemed to be less and less sure of herself, and less connected to her horse, Silver. However, it was also true that the only sure way to get her talking, and to relax to even answer a general question about herself was to talk about horses in general, or her horse in particular. The difficulty in getting her to speak, to open up, was definitely exasperating, but Lancelot did his best to not let it show. He had no idea what she really thought about him. True, he had picked up glances from time-to-time, and had felt something in the touch of her and that gave him some encouragement, that was true, but it wasn’t much to go on.

There was no doubt, he thought, that she was a captivating creature. She was definitely beautiful, from her striking and penetrating eyes, to her hair, and her overall appearance. It was almost impossible for him not to e attracted to her, but there were at least a couple of things that gave him pause. First, and it was definitely hard for him to get around was that she was noble, and had been a queen. Although there had been some indication that his family had been of a noble line in Gaul, it was not in Britain, and that separated them. The second obstacle, at least for him was Gwen. Not that there was a hope of a chance that they would ever be together, or that she would ever even want to see him again, which he doubted. However, the way that he looked at it, she had been the woman for him, and he had basically left her twice, the first after his self-imposed exile from Camelot, the second after helping to rescue her from Hengist’s castle. It was then, though, that he realized her heart probably lied with Arthur, and from the look in the Prince’s eyes that his heart was with Gwen, and Lancelot could not deal with that. He did not know if he could or should make himself vulnerable with another woman, especially one of the caliber of Dae, who would probably only reject any advances he would make.

So then, why even make the effort he wondered to himself. It was true that he had spoken some of his past to her, definitely more than she a spoken to him of hers, which had not been difficult to do. He had spoken of events, though, and not really about particular people or the feelings that he had toward them. His feelings for Gwen, of course, were obviously too personal, and his feelings for Merlin, as a friend, might be difficult to talk about without talking about his magic. Now, sometimes he felt that she waned to speak to him about herself, that she was about to break down and do it, and then that wall that seemed to surround her simply re-established itself. Outside of the Knightly Code, though, Lancelot did not think of himself as a judgmental person. Whatever was bothering her he felt he could be understanding, since he continued to get the feeling that there was some kind of secret she didn’t want to tell. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a snort from both Silver and his horse, and he looked up to find that she was staring at him once more. She held the look for a few moments before breaking it off and looking blankly into the forest once more, which only left him wondering about her thoughts once more. She seemed to find comfort looking in that direction.

He could see the way that her body seemed to relax when she focused on her horse or the Balor wood. Obviously she didn’t get the same feeling of tranquility from looking at him he thought. He sighed, suddenly, almost reflexively as he simultaneously thought about the past with Arthur, Merlin, and Gwen, as well as the present with Dae, as he himself began staring into the greenwood searching for his own peace. When they had begun talking again, of course, as always, their words revolved around horses. He, of course, had much knowledge of horses, and had indeed heard of the Elder Breed. She seemed to appreciate his knowledge and his acceptance of the horse’s ancestry …. He realized that many considered such things to be just the stuff of legends. However, Lancelot had seen many things in his travels, especially in the Forest of Balor that could not easily be explained away, both non-magical and magical. After all, most legends had a kernel of truth, at least, at their core. “Yes …. I expect we have both been lucky in many ways, milady” he said, without looking directly at her, but still having a hint of a smile on his face as well in return.

He saw her body language react to his use of the word ‘milady’. He didn’t intend for it to bother her, but he felt compelled to use the term. If he did not, he felt that he would be showing her disrespect. He had explained, as best he could, why he used the word. It did not satisfy her, though, as she responded, “There is no class in the woods.” Lancelot pondered what she had said for a moment, before replying once more. “I can understand what you are trying to get at …. That there is a certain equality here. All animals born and all die. However, even here, there are some animals that are more equal than others. There are those, predators, for example, that no one challenges, other than man, and that the rest of the animal kingdom takes pains to avoid. So, even here, we have a separation. Is that not so?,” he asked. He smiled slightly as she shifted the conversation back to the more comfortable, for her, subject of horses. This time, though, her interest had shifted to Sher-Fore, his horse, instead of talking about the ancestry of Silver. He nodded at her question, as he gave the answer, which was really more of a confirmation. He was somewhat impressed. It was not many who had heard of the Arabian breed and had an idea of where it originated. Undoubtedly it was information that she had picked up in passing at court when she had been queen.

He noticed, not being surprised at this point, since they were talking about what must have been her favorite subject, that she turned her head and gave her his full attention, which meant he had the benefit of her full eye contact. That is, before her beautiful gaze fell on Sher-Fore. It was clear that she had something of a liking for Sher-Fore. Lancelot was just not sure if it was developing into an affection, just yet. He had found that the stallion, like many males, just loved to soak up the attention that he was receiving, and therefore whinnied back in her direction lightly. He could tell by the expression that she had on her face, before she even said a word, that she could not understand how such animals could ever be mistreated. “Yes, it is cruel treatment when it occurs, but unfortunately, its not unusual. Some people think that violence is the only or the best way t o get the behavior that they desire, when understanding, and a firm, but kind word is all that is needed.” He watched her as she considered what he had said to her, and he wondered if she would have more questions. He did not have to wait long to find out. “Yes …. well …. there was a time when I was the only one who could tend to him. However, as I’m sure that you well know, horses are good at sensing the intentions and good or bad will of others. For example, I am sure that Silver has communicated to him that you are a human that can be trusted. So I am sure he will welcome any attention you direct his way.”

Finally, though, and he had been waiting for the subject to turn, she seemed to have an interest in his personal life, his family, and any other loved ones he might have, and he had responded as truthfully as he could. His was a sad and tragic story, especially his teenage years, but he doubted whether it was as tragic as many others. He saw that, as he told his story, that her gaze came to rest back on him, once more. As she, finally, turned away, he could hear her mumbling something to herself, so he asked, “milady, do you have a further question?” He wondered whether what he had said about his past had influenced her opinion of him. He had turned now, clearly questioning why she and Silver had not simply fled after his volley of arrows, not clearly understanding what about him had caused them to wait for him. He could tell, as well, that she was not used to, either as a queen or as a lonely forest-dweller, to have her actions questioned. At her answer, then he smiled. “So, why would Silver do such a radical thing then?,” he asked. At her quick answer, Lancelot turned quite serious. “You will find, milady, that Knights may be the best of men, but that is what they are, simply men, with all of their virtues, vices, and faults. There is no such thing as a perfect knight,” he said coldly, thinking of himself. “If there were, we would find it in someone like Prince Arthur,” returning her icy stare with one from his pale blue ones

As the moments stretched on, his stare began to soften, and she looked away, at Silver’s mane. He could see and feel that she wanted to say something to break the silence that now stood between them, but he did not know what it could be. They had pretty much exhausted what they could politely say on the subject of horses, he thought. When the question finally came, given her previous track record, he was shocked. “She …. what she?” he had not known that such a thing could be so obvious. Initially, he was angry, but he held those feelings in, and after they had gradually dissipated, let out a sigh. “No …. no …. She did not hurt me. I accomplished that feet of arms all by myself. I had left her twice. The first to go prove myself, and by the second, it was already too late. Even though I helped rescue her …. it was already too late …. and there was another.” He left it there hanging with no great desire to take it any farther, at least, not now.

He did his best to shift the conversation to another sad subject, the loss of his Knighthood, and Dae assisted him in that shift. Lancelot figured that she sensed that talking of Gwen was not someplace he wanted to go. He had asked her what she knew and heard of the great King Uther. He had wondered if anyone else’s experience was different from his own. He could tell by her words that Uther was Uther. He was no different for others than he had been when Lancelot had run afoul of him and his Code. “Given how Uther has dealt with magic, what was your view of it when you were queen, then?” He thought that she would have been a striking queen, and he did notice the sadness in her voice and eyes as she apparently remembered those times when she was queen. “I apologize if I have dredged up some bad memories.”

Happily, though, she did not seem to dwell to much time on those times in her past, as she moved on to Lancelot’s action against the Gryphon. He had had not had much time to manufacture the answer that he had come up with, but given demand for an answer of some kind, he thought it was a good answer. Upon looking into Dae’s eyes, as well as Silver’s he was not very confident that they found it very believable. He wondered what they were thinking. If they did not believe his explanation, did they think he was lying? Would they think that it was he who had enchanted the lance? He was surprised that Uther had not had that suspicion and had him executed. “You were very lucky indeed,” she responded. What did she mean by that? Was there a hidden meaning that he was supposed to figure out? At any rate, for now, it would be best just to drop the whole discussion.

They then moved from topic to topic, more on her part than his, he thought. He was glad that she was apparently becoming more talkative, but he also had the feeling that she was talking to avoid a particular subject. What could it be? He wondered if it was obvious to her how difficult it was for him to hold himself in check the longer he was around her, especially this close. He had to keep reminding himself that she had been a queen and that he had been a carpenter’s apprentice. He thought, actually, that he had done a good job so far in masking what he was doing. Finally, they had begun to move through the trees more rapidly and on toward the caves. He did wonder, though, if she believed that he would do what he had done over and over again.

After they had reached the caves and she had indicated that she wanted to go back to one of the streams and wash and tend to her wound, he had insisted that he should come with her, and had grabbed her hand as part of that insistence. It was an instinctive move on his part, but he had not expected her to reciprocate with her fingers rubbing his hand. Obviously, though, Silver had not expected it either and did not like it. The horse had definitely broken the moment, so much so that Lancelot felt that he had to apologize for going to far and being to forward. He did not like the idea, but he felt that he had to let her …. And Silver …. go to the stream alone, and have the option not to return to the caves. Once he had said his piece, he withdrew to the cave to begin gathering kindling so that a fire could be built soon. He expected to hear the pairs of hoof beats pounding off into the distance. He did not hear that, assuming simply that they were in the process of walking away slowly. He had not seen the expression on her face when he had said his words of apology and release, so he did not see the shock there.

So, he was quite surprised when he sensed a presence behind him. He turned around, and was shocked not only at her presence, and her agitated horse behind her, but at her small stature, since this was the first time that she had not been on her mount while this close to him. He towered over her, by nearly 10 inches. “Milady …. Dae?” She had not seemed vulnerable, sitting atop her Silver, but she did now. It was made even more so by the fact that she was biting her lip now, as if she was not certain about what she was doing. In any case, he felt that she was going to say was important. By the end, he believed that she had told few other, if any other, souls. “Yes …. I know you are not a queen now, but you were. And yes, I expect you made mistakes. We all do, whether we be queen or commoner. Sometimes these mistakes merely cause embarrassment, while others cost lives. We learn from our mistakes, as I’m sure you did, or you wouldn’t be telling me now. The queen that made those mistakes may have been young and foolish, but that person was a different person than you are now. It would have been even more foolish to have ended such a beautiful and valuable life as yours, so I am glad that Silver intervened and that you failed in that. Well, then, perhaps it is just as important to have the principles of a commoner, as it is of a royal. I would guess if you were to become a queen again, though, your principles would not be those of a fool, would they?” He heard her sigh again, and he sensed she had something else to say. "I don't want to leave you Lancelot, but if you wish it of me, I will if that is what you are asking now," she said as she looked down. This gave him the opportunity to step forward and put a finger under her chin lifting it, while he angled his head to compensate for the fact that he was bending down to kiss her, which he did fairly lightly, to see what her reaction would be. As he pulled away slightly he whispered, "and why would I want a jewel like you to leave?" Then he ran his fingers through her hair, loosening the braids on the side, which allowed him to twist and play with her blond hair in his fingers, while he waited to see what she would say and do, now that he was no longer able to hold back.

[Faerydae Moriarty]

The silence hung in the air, although, it was not just her now but also the knight. They were lost in their thoughts, thinking about things un know tot eh other, and while neither one of them said it, Faerydae found herself certain that they were both trying to wrap their heads around one another. While Lancelot had given up some of his history, the young woman was not stupid; she knew it was not the whole story, just like she had hardly given him anything. While he had been feeding into her questions, as random as they were, they were hardly specific, in many ways, they were very broad answers, but that did not matter to her. If they concentrated more on him, than the less time they would on her, and perhaps, that was for the best. It was odd in a way though, for both rider and horse, to get acquainted with the fact that they had stopped and waited for this man, this rouge knight and his black Arabian as if they were friends. And, although he did save her life, talking with him only made her realize how unsocial she has become, feeling awkward and shy, and hardly trusting at all. Woods and horses had been her companions for far too long, although, it was not something that she minded at all. So, it made her believe that there was something else at the heart of this awkwardness for her, and she found herself almost certain it was this knight.

Why though? She found herself certain it was not just because he had simply saved her, because there had been other times when Silver had to flee to get help purely because of numbers or the fact that people were on horseback, and every time, they had fled with ease but not now. In many ways, she felt captivated by him. She hung onto his every word, and there were numerous times where she had to tear her eyes away from him, or even steal glances as if she were simply a teenager again rather than a young adult. Either way, it was a strange feeling to go through after four years, and still she had no idea what to truly make of it other than she feared to act on what she wanted. After all, that had not held up in her past and the strange thing was, Lancelot seemed very much like her, and at the same time, hardly at all. They were both nomads and did not choose their paths, and often sought the company of their own horses than they did other humans, but the knight, unlike Faerydae who did not care of class, seemed to have those boundaries. His boundaries with class were very straight forward; she had been of a queen and of noble blood, while he was not, and therefore, referred to her in terms only meant for those above him and how she hated it.

But that was not all, there was something else that seemed to be on Lancelot’s mind, and the fair haired maiden could not exactly figure out for he did not let her in on what it was. Actually, this had been the longest that they both had been quiet it seemed. But as she glanced over towards him now, it was easy to tell that he was lost in thought about something important. She wanted to ask him, but she knew better than to do so, the look of concentration on his face made it seem as if he would not tell her. Her gaze finally left him and moved towards the woods as she thought to herself now. What would it had been like if she had simply lied, just called herself Dae and left out the queen, would everything had been so different? And by everything, she meant this hidden barrier between them because of class. Maybe she could have just been Dae, the girl he saved, verses, Faerydae the exiled Queen he saved. Thankfully, while ‘milady’ was often thrown in there, he had used her name of preference as well rather than her former title. In a way though, by telling the knight her title, the young woman almost felt as if she had single handily set up that class barrier without even meaning it, she had only wished to be truthful, but if she had know this would have been the results, then she might have lied.

That could not only be the blame, but also her unwillingness to talk about herself. Horses were a good subject for her; she loved the beauty and grace of the animals and had always felt more connected to them instead of humans. Although, horses seemed to start to become a tiring subject for Lancelot, and perhaps even her as well. Speaking of horses, both Silver and Sher-Fore had let out a set of rather loud snorts, bringing both of their riders snapping back to reality. Of course though, within that time, her gaze had wandered back to Lancelot and the moment the horses let out her sounds, his pale gaze met her own. She was startled in a way, caught in the act, but her gaze could not leave his at first. Not until she felt like she might blush a little did she quickly turn her head away and returned to the safety of the trees and away from him. In many ways, it held comfort to her to stay at them, for the trees would always be her main protector, the cage that bound her to the forest. Even now, they could not bring her any peace of mind. She felt like her cheeks were burning slightly from the embarrassment, and she found hard to keep it under control, nor did she dare look back at him for now. The young woman did not have to concentrate for long though, for the moment that they started talking about the horses; Faerydae found herself relaxing and her mind distracted from what had just happened.

It was surprising of his knowledge of the Elder breed, for many of those legends had been lost due to the great purge for nobody spoke of magic any more. He seemed to take in her words with ease, and not once did he sass her in the least about it, instead, he spoke of the legend itself. Perhaps he had seen a lot of things on his travels that made him believe such things, either that or that no matter what the story, everything always had a starting point in their tale, “Yes…I expect we have both been lucky in many ways, milady,” he commented now. While the knight did not look in her direction, her ice blue eyes caught sight of the hint of a smile upon his features. A curious look almost cross her face because of that action, but she managed to hide it. It was not important to dwell on every kind word and gesture he did around her, after all, Lancelot had a life before he met her, there could many of a reasonable explanation for that smile. Her eyes drifted away from him now and towards the white stallion now that she sat upon, her hand gliding over his shoulder blade, “What do you think of that, Silver?” she asked him quietly, to which Silver let out a gleeful whinny and nodded his head in agreement, causing the smallest of laughs to escape the young woman.

At the term ‘milady’, she could not to squirm. It was funny how one’s past could affect them so much, and there was no doubt in her mind that Lancelot noticed this for it was not too long before he tried to explain his use of the word. Of course though, she did not want to hear it and retorted back quickly and simply. Silenced filled the air now and she glanced over at him, curious to see if she had finally stumped the knight in his own game. He did seem to be giving it a lot of thought, and it was not long before he finally responded, “I can understand what you are trying to get at …. That there is a certain equality here. All animals born and all die. However, even here, there are some animals that are more equal than others. There are those, predators, for example, that no one challenges, other than man, and that the rest of the animal kingdom takes pains to avoid. So, even here, we have a separation. Is that not so?” Ice blue eyes glanced over at him now, uncertain of why he would use such an example, “That is animal instinct, not human,” she replied now. Humans were taught, animals knew it deep in their beating hearts, “Besides,” Faerydae added on now as her gaze returned to the woods now, “Even those who are hunted can stand up to their hunter if it means to save a life.” Although now, the flow of the subject changed and she shifted it back to the black Arabian now, who in many ways, was as mysterious as it’s rider.

Her gaze had noticed a faint smile on the knight’s face at her shift of the subject, although she could not understand why unless it was amusing. However, it almost felt as if she had gotten the last laugh in a way, for her knowledge of the Arabian breed, while simply going off of what she heard, seemed to have been correct. Dare she say he almost looked impressed at her knowledge? She did not comment on it though, and her ice blue gaze did remain on him for a moment before it fell to the black Arabian now. Even at a walk, it appeared to have a smooth gate for the rider. Sher-Fore himself must have picked up on her gaze now as well as that he was the subject of their conversation, for the horse let loose a light whinny. It brought a small smile to her lips now, how he seemed to love the attention at the moment, he was no different that Silver. Although, it disappeared from her face as she learned that he stallion had been abused as a colt, and she could not understand it. Sher-Fore was a fine horse, and looked willing to please, perhaps there had been more to the stallion when he had been a foal, a firey attitude maybe, but even a spirited horse did not deserve a beating, “Yes, it is cruel treatment when it occurs, but unfortunately, its not unusual. Some people think that violence is the only or the best way to get the behavior that they desire, when understanding, and a firm, but kind word is all that is needed.” She knew it was true, and yet Faerydae did not want to believe it. People were cruel, and not just to horses, but they were cruel to each other and while it should not surprise her, it always did.

And no sooner did she ask her second question, did Lancelot seem ready with a response, “Yes …. well …. there was a time when I was the only one who could tend to him. However, as I’m sure that you well know, horses are good at sensing the intentions and good or bad will of others. For example, I am sure that Silver has communicated to him that you are a human that can be trusted. So I am sure he will welcome any attention you direct his way.” His answer had been no different than her question, while it did not opening request or grant a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ statement, it was heavily implied. Without so much of a word, she nudged Silver slightly, causing him to move even closer towards the horse now as they brushed up against the black Arabian now. If there had been contact between the two riders, for once, Faerydae had not noticed because her thoughts were with the black horse. Her hand reached out, slightly hesitantly at first before it gently rested on Sher-Fore’s neck. It was muscular and well shaped, power almost seemed to run along through the horse’s body. Her fingers moved lightly over his dark neck for a moment, being gentle and careful in every movement that she made, being respectful as if it were somebody in court rather than an animal, “You truly do have a wonderful horse.”

Now though, her curiosity did not just lay within the horse though, but of his life as well and the people who were in it. She could not help herself and her strong urges to get to know him were watch drove this questions. His past was a tragedy in many ways, although when he commented on how it came to shape who he was, the young woman found herself uncertain of how to respond. People always said that life was full of mysteries and how one had to shape their destinies, but if this was how life did it, by killing off the people one loves the most, than life was cruel, not only to her but to him as well. Although, she did not voice this to Lancelot, instead, she murmured it to herself without much thought, “Milady, do you have a further question?” It snapped her out of her thoughts and she glanced over towards him now, “Hm? No…No I don’t,” she replied now. Lancelot’s mind seemed to be on other things and somehow, she had a feeling that a question was going to be directed at her as the young woman tried to dig herself out of the situation, but it never seemed to work out, “So, why would Silver do such a radical thing?” he asked of her now. Confusion crossed her face as she glanced at the white stallion, his ears twitching at his name. After all, she had been wondering the same thing earlier on but just did not say anything about it, “I truthfully don’t know. It’s strange really, you’re not the first to have come to our aid, but I can tell you that you’re the first that we have not left directly afterwards. Perhaps he saw something in you,” she offered, although, it was hardly an explanation.

Lancelot’s words caught her off guard though about her answer, it was clear he did approve of her words, “You will find, milady, that Knights may be the best of men, but that is what they are, simply men, with all of their virtues, vices, and faults. There is no such thing as a perfect knight himself. If there were, we would find it in someone like Prince Arthur.” His pale gaze locked in on her own, and they held each other’s gaze for what almost felt like eternity for Faerydae, and it was not until his gaze finally began to soften was she the one who broke their contact, “I rather have you than Prince Arthur,” she replied now. The young woman felt bad for the Prince of Camelot, all that pressure riding on him from his father to be a good prince, to be the best warrior, to be, well, the best in everything. It was not a life she would enjoy living, everybody expecting so much from you that when you turn up short in their eyes, even though it was the best you could have done, they hang their disappointment in you. That was no way to live, and she did not understand how Arthur could handle it. Although, her next question had put tension into the air now, he had not been expecting her question at all, “She…what she?” There was anger in his voice and out of habit, the fair haired maiden felt herself tense up a little and Silver himself jumped away slightly, allowing space between them again.

She was uncertain as to why he was so surprised by her deduction, the way he had acted earlier suggested something of a woman in his life, who and what she may be to him had been left unclear though, but seeing his reaction, perhaps it should have stayed that way. Her gaze remained on the trees now as they walked along in silence, allowing time for his anger to die down. After what seemed to be forever though, the knight heaved a sigh, and she knew that the anger was over, “No …. no …. She did not hurt me. I accomplished that feet of arms all by myself. I had left her twice. The first to go prove myself, and by the second, it was already too late. Even though I helped rescue her …. it was already too late …. and there was another.” She did not look at him once during this, and merely judged the situation by his words and tone of his voice. Faerydae knew that he had no desire to continue this subject, whoever this woman was, still bore a heavy hole in Lancelot’s heart. Nodding her head in understanding, she allowed the conversation to drop vocally, but her mind could not rest for she found herself distracted now. In a way, she was glad to hear that there was nobody now, but the fact that he had such a strong reaction to it, well, perhaps there was no hope at all for Faerydae herself, not that she should be thinking about such things anyways. With that thought in her mind, she shoved all others out and laid it to rest for now.

He was the one to shift the topic now, no doubt running away from the last one, and the young maiden did not mind at all. After all, she should not be directing all of the conversation, even if that did mean there were higher chances that he may actually ask about her, and oddly enough, their conversation settled upon Uther and she had not been expecting the next question, “Given how Uther has dealt with magic, what was your view of it when you were queen, then?” It was a curious question to be asked, now that since something of that importance passed if she thought so, although, things still happened and revolved around the old religion. Her mind wandered for a moment before finally speaking, trying to pick her words carefully, “Magic is…tricky for me. I feel as if all the stories of old that I have heard, it had been used for good with only a few in the dark arts. But nowadays, I feel that it’s just…I don’t know,” Faerydae bit her lip slightly, trying to figure out her words, “After the purge…I don’t believe I’ve heard or seen one good thing about magic, because everybody’s so bent up in revenge…so, I guess I don’t fear it, not to the extent that Uther is…it just makes me nervous because all I’ve ever seen and heard are terrible things.” It was not fair really, of her to think such way, but she did not know of any other way. If she were to meet somebody, who was not using it to their advantage, perhaps it would change, but for now, she had every right to fear it as much as she did a dangerous animal or man.

As the topic of her being a good queen was brought up, Faerydae felt herself uncertain and sadden almost. It merely brought up her past to her, and she still felt guilty that Lancelot kept on seeing her as this noble queen, when she had been anything but that, “I apologize if I have dredged up some bad memories.” Her eyes glanced over at him for a second before she finally answered, “Do not apologize, it is not your fault,” she replied simply now as she quickly moved the conversation away from this and towards the gryphon now. It interested her a lot in many ways, purely because she knew that only magic could kill it, and it seemed to bring about Silver’s curiosity as well. The knight tried feeding them an answer thought that was, well, entirely unbelievable, from her stand point at least and when she told him that he had been very lucky, it seemed that Lancelot lost a little confidence in his answer now. She was certain that questions were going through his brain at the moment, but the two of them did what they did best when they realized that a topic was going into dangerous territory. They merely dropped it. Although, now they were running out of topics to concentrate on and she feared that it would soon come upon her to talk, but she did not wish to do that, not about herself at least.

There was something distracting between them though, and she knew it was not in words. There was a tension between them, it tighten the air and almost made her want to breath heavy. It was not that there was anything wrong with the air, nor that he was mad at her, because he wasn’t, but it was something else, something…primal. It had been there before, but everything seemed to become far more noticeable ever since she had touched his hand. Her mind wandered to his words for a moment, about how if the situation had presented itself a thousand times to him, that he would still go and save her, there was nothing he did that made her doubt it, but it was her own mind that played tricks on her. Before giving it any more thought though, they moved towards the caves now and she did not think back on it again for now. Everything had been fine until they reached the caves, and then Faerydae found herself getting caught up in Lancelot without even thinking about it, too distracted by his hold on her hand to think about her horse and how he might feel. Although, she certainly had gotten awake up to reality once he moved and killed whatever it was that had been going on, but what had hurt the most was not Silver, but Lancelot suggesting that they should just go to the stream, or even leave for good.

Instead of leaving though, she hopped off the white stallion and walked towards the knight now as he distracted himself with collecting kindle wood. She felt very tiny compared to him and he had not even been standing fully straight. Funny how one does not notice height differences until they were on the ground. Sensing her presence, he turned around and almost seemed startled probably because of two things: her height, and the fact that she was not gone yet, “Milady…Dae?” She did not even speak until he said her name, but still, she felt vulnerable opening up like this, even if it was not the whole story for she did not know what he would say, when she was done though, Lancelot did speak, “Yes …. I know you are not a queen now, but you were. And yes, I expect you made mistakes. We all do, whether we be queen or commoner. Sometimes these mistakes merely cause embarrassment, while others cost lives. We learn from our mistakes, as I’m sure you did, or you wouldn’t be telling me now. The queen that made those mistakes may have been young and foolish, but that person was a different person than you are now. It would have been even more foolish to have ended such a beautiful and valuable life as yours, so I am glad that Silver intervened and that you failed in that. Well, then, perhaps it is just as important to have the principles of a commoner, as it is of a royal. I would guess if you were to become a queen again, though, your principles would not be those of a fool, would they?”

It was almost like being chided by an adult and her eyes still remained locked on her feet as she thought about his words and thought to herself about it. She could never imagine the day that she would become queen again, though his words did hold sense about principles and how she had learned from everything, “I suppose not,” she murmured to herself. There was something else that was caught up on her mind though, ‘a beautiful and valuable life’…that’s what he had called her, but surely he cannot have meant it, not after that painful discussion of the woman that he had left behind. Her mind still remained on it, even as she spoke about not wanting to leave him. This whole thing was becoming quite puzzling, as if it were a terrible game that life was just playing to be cruel to her, tugging at her heart and making her confused. When the knight had not replied though, she thought the worst of it and thought that she would have to go, but something else happened. He took a step forward now, and the only reason why she knew this was because she caught sight of his foot. She simply eyed his foot now, trying to figure out what was going on when the young woman felt one of his fingers under her chin, gently pushing her head up to meet his gaze.

Due to his height, Faerydae certainly felt herself having to lift her head to really look at him, but she hardly concentrated on that. All what he had done was a place a finger under her chin and the young woman felt as if her skin was on fire. Her ice blue gaze simply lost in his own pale gaze now, unable to break away from it as he angled his head now and bent down, their lips brushing up against each other in a kiss. For a moment, it almost felt as if her heart had stopped for a moment, or that everything just became very light. His kiss had been light, but to her, it might have been the perfect kiss as he pulled away only slightly now, “And why would I want a jewel like you to leave?” he asked her now in a low whisper, his hand running through her silvery blond hair and loosening up her braids, allowing the tendrils of hair to fall freely. It was relaxing, she felt safe with him and her eyes closed for a moment as he played with her hair, feeling the small motions before her eyes fluttered open again, a smile resting on her lips now, shy and timid but it was truly genuine, “I…I don’t know,” she murmured, certainly finding herself at a loss for words, but maybe words did not really matter her, but emotions and actions and everything else in between. Standing on her toes now, her hands placed lightly on his chest for use of balance as her lips parted ever so slightly and brushed up against his. Like her smile, the kiss had been shying, but it lingered even after she pulled away slightly now, ice blue gaze just staring at his pale one.

From afar, the white stallion watched and the moment that the knight had made a move to kiss Faerydae, Silver knew that he had lost for the knight. A snort escaped him and he shook his head slightly, and trotted past them now and into the caves to join Sher-Fore, so he did not have to bother watching the scene.

[Deleted]

Lancelot was unsure where he stood with this fair and striking former queen. It was obvious that she had been alone with her horse, amazing as it was, in the forest for some time. She was a loner …. That was apparent. He doubted that she could have been when she was in the ruling class of her kingdom. However, something had happened to make her this way, either when she had been removed as queen, or sometime after. He was not much of a social animal either. Since the massacre of family and friends as a teen he had made a point not to get too close to anybody. This did not mean that he could not be friendly if the situation encouraged or required it, but he would not go out of his way for it. It generally had to be in his own interest. He wasn’t necessarily a hardened man, but he was a careful one, and he had decided early on to be selective of what battles or conflicts to be involved in. Having friends might be nice, but if they were attacked you were expected to come to their aid, and that could be …. dangerous and life-shortening. He had suspended that whole idea when he had come upon Merlin in the forest, and saved his life, and made friends with him and Gwen, and even Arthur. However, that had been for only the shortest of times, and once more he was on his own again, just Lancelot against the world.

She was apparently a different story. She was one who he was unsure whether she wanted to be part of this world any longer, let alone if she even thought anything about hi, Lancelot thought to himself as the two horses plodded ahead in the forest. Her thoughts, he had found were pretty impenetrable, so he had given up even wasting his time and energy figuring her out, and just accepted that that was the way that she was. It was obvious that she really didn’t want to talk about herself, and he didn’t really want to press the issue. Despite that, though, Lancelot still felt an attraction to her, which was not surprising, he thought, given her striking appearance. However, he had been around beautiful females, and had just blocked that out …. ignored it. Why was this one different, he wondered to himself. He had saved her life, he knew, but it was not like he thought that meant she owed him anything. What was apparent was that if the conversation was going to be maintained he would have to be the one doing it. But he had said about everything that he had to say about himself that was worth talking about. He could foresee a vast silence in the near future, with their eventual parting of ways. He had noticed her occasional furtive looks in his direction, but he downplayed her as just being curious about him.

Well, there were worse things, Lancelot supposed. They could dislike each others company, which, obviously they did not. Or she could talk incessantly, especially about subjects that he had absolutely no interest in, which, thankfully, she did not. At least, if not friends, they could part as friendly acquaintances, could they not? He had tried several different communications to break through that wall of silence that surrounded her. He wondered if she realized how separate she had made herself, and if that was a conscious decision, on her part, or if it was the price she had chosen for her own safety as she saw it. However, it was a 2-way street. Not only was she closing herself off to others, but she was not asking questions of him either. He found it to be quite maddening, but he did his best not to show it. Did she want to know anything bout him, or did she not really care? He had tried not to force the issue, knowing that often that just caused a person to close up more. It might damage the possibility of his relationship with her, but would it be worth it so that she would be able to open up to others in the future. He simply did not know. The only positive of the situation as he saw it was the fact that he did not have to give answers and explanations of things he had done in his life and career as a fighting soldier that he was not entirely proud of.

If he did not force her to face both the past and the present, the only safe avenue would apparently be to talk once more about horses. Perhaps, he thought, the subject of horses could be re-directed in such a way that it could address the problems that she seemed to be having. “It is true, milady,” he said, knowing that the term still bothered her, “that horses can teach us many things. One reason why you and I are so in sync with our horses is that on some basic non-verbal level we understand each other ….. you and Silver and me and Sher-Fore. Many times, maybe even most times, no words are necessary at all. Either we understand how the other thinks, or we give them some clue that they clearly understand. However, I have seen many horses, as well as many people, go through traumatic, frightening events. Haven’t you?,” he asked. “They don’t trust anybody and may be even afraid of their own shadow, as well as the shadow of everything else. In those cases, as with children I think, the most important thing is to be consistent, so that they learn to know what to expect, and that we are supportive of them. Second, once that is accomplished, we have to let them know that they can trust us, no matter what, no matter how bad or difficult things may be. In that way they know that we care and that we will always be there to protect them. When they learn that they often develop the need and the desire to do the same thing for us, don’t you think? It all comes down to trust doesn’t it?,” has asked as he paused, “for both horses and people. Then they can relax, as can we.”

When he spoke of the Elder breed and his knowledge of its legend, at least, she seemed to be somewhat surprised. He knew that many in Albion did not believe in legends because they were too much like magic, and after all, that was punishable by death. Others believed that legends were just like children’s make-believe fairy tales. However, of course, Lancelot had been taught that legends not only teach lessons, but were often based on at least a kernel of truth. He was often amused at the strange ideas that people had about legends, and what people took as fact. In fact, he could see after she had registered her surprise that she seemed to be watching him quite carefully, probably to see if he was really serious in what he was telling her. It brought a smile to his face, though he did his best to hide it from her, successfully he thought. He did not want her to think that he was making light or fun of the opinions she was offering about the origins of her horse, Silver. After they had spoken on it for several moments, and much as he expected, she directed a question to her horse, “What do you think of that, Silver?” It was no surprise to Lancelot that the horse seemed to respond both physically and with sound. It was obvious, with her smiling response that it was no surprise to her either.

He did, of course, notice that she didn’t appreciate the use of ‘milady’ much. However, he felt that he was absolutely required to show that measure of respect and deference to her, both as a former queen and as a woman, although his explanation had entailed only the reference to her former position. She had made her opinion and preference quite clear, but that did not change his views too much on the matter. As long as they travelled together she would have to put up with at least some of his actions and views. He would agree to make some changes in how he behaved, but some requests would be a waste of time and energy for her to make, clearly. He also gave her a short explanation on his views on equality and the lack of it in both human and jungle society. She had responded quickly enough, and he replied quickly as well. “Are not humans, milady, animals as well?” However, she had not just left it at that, but had gone on, to which he replied in turn. “Yes, but there are all kinds of hunters. In many cases, for example the hunted can become the hunters, and vice versa. If the hunter is not careful, the prey can turn the hunter into the hunted,” he smiled.

He followed that up with an even bigger smile, as he realized she was in the process of changing the subject, which he had found that she did often, especially if she didn’t like its direction. Upon seeing his smile, he saw that she gave him a strange quizzical look, as if she was trying to figure something out. It was now his turn to be surprised in turn, as she apparently had been informed of the nature of the physical world of North Africa, where Sher-Fore had originated. He saw, as he expected, a little look of triumph on her face, as her gaze had moved from Lancelot on to his horse. He watched his horse as Sher-Fore picked up on the fact that he was being talked about and whinnied, getting a bit excited. Lancelot thought to himself that the horse was always a sucker for a little attention especially if tere was an apple in it for him. Lancelot reached into the pocket of his cloak and took out a small green apple and fed it to him. Lancelot watched out of the corner of his eye at the pleasant and pleasing smile that she gave. “You should smile like that more often …. Dae …. it becomes you.” Lancelot saw, as he related the environment that he had rescued from, how Dae’s face had grown appreciably darker, quite quickly. He saw, quite readily, that she was not only protective of her horse, Silver, but other horses as well.

He figured that her next move, after hearing the story of his abuse, and how he had to learn to trust Lancelot, that she would wan to reach out and touch him herself. He assumed that Sher-Fore would not just tolerate her touch, but he expected that the horse had been desiring it for some time, and that when she made her move, slow and deliberate that it was, that the horse seemed to eagerly accept it. So much so that Lancelot wondered if Silver would get jealous at the extra attention that Dae was giving to the black horse. She seemed to like the reaction that she got as well, as she responded, “You truly do have a wonderful horse.” He smiled and replied, “You make it sound as if he belongs to me. I think it is much the other way around.”

Lancelot had gone on to tell her of some of his past that had molded him, or at least begun the process of molding him, even though much of it had been tragic in its occurrence. He thought that he could feel that she was slowly starting to open up and ask more questions, so it was only natural for him to encourage her by asking if she had any more questions to ask. He could tell that she did, just by the activity in her eyes, but he respected her response, and did not volunteer any more information about his past. He went on, though, to ask why Silver had searched him out, and elected to stay with him and Sher-Fore, even after the bloody skirmish. Lancelot could not figure it out and it seemed it was beyond Dae as well, other than perhaps the fact that the horse saw something in the young former Knight.

He was afraid, suddenly, that his words about the character of knights may have been a bit too harsh. He was not perfect and he doubted if there could be a perfect one anywhere, except, perhaps, with the exception of Arthur. However, he thought, both commoners and royals, expected too much out of their Knights. At that remark he had made sure to lock his gaze in with hers, just to let her know how strongly he felt about the subject. “And why would you rather have me than the greatest of all the Knights of Camelot. He and his …. future queen …. No matter who she is …. will represent the best in Britain, unlike me.” His mind was still on the subject of Prince Arthur when Dae made reference to ‘She’. He was so surprised and shocked by her mention of her that he became suddenly defensive. However, in a few moments he had settled down, but still wondered exactly how and what she knew.

Several moments of uncomfortable silence had passed between them before he elected to go into some detail. However, he did his best to make it as brief and short of details that he could, other than the fact that it had been his own fault. She apparently understood the difficulty of the subject for him, and did not press Lancelot on the issue. She simply nodded her head as the two horses continued to plod on into the forest. He did notice, though, that the way she held herself and her demeanor seemed to change. Her attention seemed to be directed less toward the forest, or her horse, and more towards him. She was apparently not willing to say anything more to him about it, but he wondered if it had altered her opinion of him in a negative way.

Lancelot had taken the opportunity, quickly, to change the subject to magic, and since Dae had been a royal, to ask what her view of it had been when she had been queen, especially compared to Uther. She gave him a very diplomatic, if politically-correct answer he thought. She really tried not to come down on one side of the question or the other. She just said that it was ‘tricky’. She seemed to be searching for the correct words. It seemed to be that her current impression was that magic was not being used for good purposes, generally. She appeared to fear it, but not to the extent that practitioners should fear for their lives. Lancelot put his opinion forth, after hearing her relatively indecisive explanation, “I of course, am not of magic, However, I do not think that magic, in of itself is good or evil, only those who use it are, It is something to respect and fear, I’ll grant you that.”

Since they had spoken about Uther and his activities, their conversation and thought had drifted back naturally to when Dae had been queen. When he saw in her eyes the pain and sadness he immediately apologized for bringing it up. Even though she told him not to he felt that he had strayed into an area that was forbidden. She decided to take their conversation in another area …. his defeat of the Gryphon. It seemed to him, by her questions that she did not quite believe his description of how it had been killed. He became a bit defensive and rapidly developed a story for how he was able to kill the creature. There was no way he was going to implicate Merlin as being a warlock. He was glad to see that she elected to drop the topic entirely. However, the bad thing was that they were rapidly running out of things to talk about and that tension-filled silence began to return once more.

Fortunately, they had begun the final part of their trek to the caves in the middle of the Balor Forest, and soon they would be setting up camp for the night, which Lancelot thought would divert them, at least somewhat. He could have been mistaken, but it appeared that she was turning some subject over and over in her mind. He thought that reaching the caves would solve some of the tension, but upon arriving she had indicated that she wanted to go back to a stream to clean her wound. He had reached out to her to tell her that he would not allow her to do such a thing, alone. The feel of her skin in his hand was amazing, as well as the caressing of his hand by a couple of her fingers. Her hand was so small! The moment, or the magic of the moment was soon broken, and thinking that he had been too forward, he suggested that she go ahead by herself, as she had first suggested. He did not really expect them to return.

He had begun to busy himself with setting up the fire when he had felt her presence behind him, and had turned around to face the shorter but still beautiful former queen. She had then given him a long discussion, at least for her, of her tragic past, and he had responded by telling her basically that nobody was perfect and everyone had to learn from their mistakes. He saw that she was looking down at the floor of the cave as if she was in shame, and his next actions came as a natural reflex, lifting her chin with a finger, and planting a kiss on her soft, but full, lips. Then he backed off slightly to see what her reaction would be.

The skin that his finger toughed felt so nice and warm, and he felt almost a natural electricity in the air, even after the kiss when he had backed off by a few inches. It was as if it were an electrical attraction that was drawing him back in, something that felt beyond his control, as he bent back down. His pale blue pools of water eyes never broke contact with her brilliant blue ones. “And why would I want a jewel like you to leave?” he had asked her, and as he had waited for an answer, his hands had quickly loosened the braids of her silvery blond hair and he had watched the hair fall freely across her face as he ran his fingers through it. Finally she answered, and this time with a small smile, “I…I don’t know,” she said lightly. He sensed her grow a couple of inches in height, as she unknowingly to him stood on her tip-toes, and she put her little hands on his broad chest as his head and lips descended for a deeper and a much more prolonged kiss, that ended as his kiss travelled down from her lips to the nape of neck, wordlessly, with only a low “mmmmmmm” coming from deep in his throat, as he wrapped his arms around her lower back, which acted to both pull her up and into him. The horses just stood on the outside of the cave looking in.

[Faerydae Moriarty]

It was amazing that he had not left her yet, not that she had wanted him to. Although, with how unsocial she had been, Faerydae almost thought that it was bound to happen any second now, but that second never did. His black horse never left Silver’s side, and they continued to remain in the same walking rhythm that kept their riders together as well. Although, to be fair to herself, Lancelot hardly seemed to be much of a talker either, not freely at least, he only spoke when asked. It was not that he was not unfriendly, he seemed perfectly fine, but even then, the knight still felt, guarded by his own thoughts almost, as if being careful to not get caught up in something. What that might be though, the young woman had no idea. It was hard to see what he held onto, and what caused him to make the decisions that he did. For socializing though, Lancelot only seemed to have the animal that he sat upon, but unlike her, he still could hold up a conversation, which made he believe that he had people he cared about back home, wherever that may be and what he would consider for home was not always the place in which a person was born.

She wondered if her deductions were right in any way, and whether he had any thoughts on her as well. Did she plague his thoughts as much as he did her? Of course, the young woman did not understand why this was, but the hardest questions almost never seem to have the easiest answers, but that was life she supposed. Either way, Faerydae was certain now that he would not have any interest in her, while she did not come out and say it, she felt broken and worn out at such a young age. After everything that she had been through though, it was not something hard to imagine. For that reason though, she found it hard to open up to others, even Lancelot at the moment, because even though he was kind, like everybody else, he would probably leave her and end up being nothing more than haunting ‘what if’s. No, she supposed that she could only rely on Silver to be there until the bitter end. But even then, with those thoughts in her mind, it was impossible to ignore him. Her ice blue eyes always wandered back to him, and now she just found herself giving excuses to glance in his direction as long as he did not question her about it.

Either way though, they seemed to be getting along in each other’s company just fine, even Silver and Sher-Fore appeared to have hit it off, perhaps even more than their owners, if that were possible. Well, they certainly communicated more, and they were horses. Although, Lancelot was trying, she just appeared to end the conversations as quickly as they started like invaders being stopped by a castle mote. It was a cruel thing for her to do, but she was simply out of practice and still not entirely trusting, old habits die hard, especially when one’s only companion for the past four years had been a horse, who while spoke with actions and whinnies, could not speak like a human could. Besides, trust was something that she often felt as if she had little to pass out, especially after what Cyelena did. That had been trust, and it had been broken no easier than when Silver stepped on a twig. Her silence served more as a shield if anything; it kept her safe from having her heart and soul broken into a thousand pieces again.

As the knight talked about horses, she was not entirely sure as to why he was still entertaining the idea for her, why he still managed to keep the conversation going. Was he after something from her that she did not wish to share? Although, he didn’t know anything about her, so why would he believe that she could provide him with something? Or perhaps, she was just going about this all wrong, jumping to conclusions too soon and too quickly. Still, it was all a very curious matter, just as he was a very curious man to talk to, “It is true, milady,” he commented now even though Faerydae was quite certain that by now, he would have known that the word gave her discomfort, “that horses can teach us many things. One reason why you and I are so in sync with our horses is that on some basic non-verbal level we understand each other ….. You and Silver and me and Sher-Fore. Many times, maybe even most times, no words are necessary at all. Either we understand how the other thinks, or we give them some clue that they clearly understand. However, I have seen many horses, as well as many people, go through traumatic, frightening events. Haven’t you?”

Ice blue eyes stared at him as he spoke, his words lyrical and melodic to her in his soothing voice. Although, there was still something about them that almost gave them a hidden meaning or an addenda. At the question, her eyes dropped now and she looked away from him and towards the trees, thinking to herself. Of course she had seen horses and people go through traumatic events: war, death, accidents even, as well as herself, although, he couldn’t plausibly be referring to her, just to the events in general. Somehow, it was playing tricks on her, her mind or the question, and Faerydae found that she was uncertain of which one it was, “Yes,” she replied softly. Although, Lancelot’s words did not stop there, they continued on: “They don’t trust anybody and may be even afraid of their own shadow, as well as the shadow of everything else. In those cases, as with children I think, the most important thing is to be consistent, so that they learn to know what to expect, and that we are supportive of them. Second, once that is accomplished, we have to let them know that they can trust us, no matter what, no matter how bad or difficult things may be. In that way they know that we care and that we will always be there to protect them. When they learn that they often develop the need and the desire to do the same thing for us, don’t you think? It all comes down to trust doesn’t it?” There was a pause in the air before he continued on, “For both horses and people. Then they can relax, as can we.”

Her gaze tore from the trees now as she glanced back towards him now, studying him for a moment before finally asking, “What are you hinting at?” She asked now, feeling as if this topic was not just about random horses and people now, but specific people. But perhaps, that was just her being paranoid about the matter. There was always the possibility of that as the topic started to go from this to Silver and the Elder Breed. While she spoke, Faerydae had almost been waiting for Lancelot to laugh at her, to make fun of her and to disagree with her entirely. Legends of the old were lost along with the old Religion, and the young woman cannot say that she hardly blamed people. Surprisingly enough though, Lancelot did not laugh at her, nor toss her words aside. For a moment, there might have been a hint of a smile, but whatever it had been, her eyes had either played tricks on her because of the dying light or that he was just particularly good at hiding his smiles. The only problem was that she just could not decide which.

Although, what Lancelot did with his smiles were the least of her problems, for now it appeared that they were in a clash. Silver’s ears twitched at their words, clearly paying attention. It had to do with the term ‘milady’ which had been bothering the young woman for quite some time now, although, she supposed in typical knight fashion, Lancelot did not bring it up until quite late in their meaning. Of course, he insisted on calling her as such, that there should be space between them for she was a former queen and he nothing but a commoner. Faerydae quite disagreed and when he explained himself, she did nothing but fire back, and for a moment, she almost thought herself triumphant. Lancelot, however, was rather quick to reply, “Are not humans, milady, animals as well?” This felt suspicious to her, like he was leading up to something in which he knew would stump her within this argument, “Not all,” she replied now, watching him out of the corner of her eye as she talked over the prey being able to fight back, “Yes, but there are all kinds of hunters. In many cases, for example the hunted can become the hunters, and vice versa. If the hunter is not careful, the prey can turn the hunter into the hunted.”

He had a smile on his face, and she pondered whether he knew or not that he had stumped her, “Are you saying that deer hunt wolves?” she asked now, although, she was quick to change the subject now. As she changed the subject though, the young woman notice the smile upon Lancelot’s lips grow now, as if he took entertainment in her actions with steering the conversation away from a losing battle. Her attention turned to Sher-Fore now, who had been walking along silently. The young woman found it entertaining how his attention appeared to shift towards their conversation now, knowing that they were speaking about them. Although, his attention was mostly diverted towards his human now, whose hand disappeared into his cloak now to pull out a green apple. This move had caught the white horse’s attention now and his head turned to witness, along with Faerydae, Sher-Fore eating a rather crunchy apple now. A smile came to her lips without any thought now as her gaze rested on the black Arabian, “You should smile like that more often …. Dae …. it becomes you.”

Heat rose up in her face at his words, “Um…thank you,” she managed to get out, her eyes just concentrating on his horse rather than looking at the knight now. Sher-Fore’s tall was a sad one though, and that quickly clouded her thoughts and smile. It made her wonder what would have become of the black Arabian if it had not been for Lancelot. Would he still be a broken and mistrusting horse, or would he had sought his own freedom? Either way though, Lancelot proved to be that peace of mind the horse had needed, and from there, the friendship formed. In ways, it reminded Faerydae of herself and Silver, only with the roles being reversed, her being the one who had needed saving, and the white horse being the savior. After hearing his story though, it made her wish to touch the black stallion, to see if he would accept her or whether she was just another human who may harm him. Of course, she was cautious in this adventure though, her hand slow and steady to not startle him in any means as well as so he could sense her presence without it needing to be followed by fear. Her patience had been rewarded though, for he had accepted her hand, “And so, I pass the test,” she mused to herself now.

During this, Silver was quite uncertain of what to make of this. The black Arabian was getting most of the attention that he did not like to share, even more; Sher-Fore had already gotten an apple. A snort of annoyance escaped the white stallion now, but he hardly did anything more. Noticing his agitation, the young woman simply smiled and shook her head slightly before returning her hand to her own horse now to win back over his favor as her hand ran along his neck and shoulder blade now. As she commented on how lucky Lancelot was to have a horse like Sher-Fore, she had honestly been expecting some boasting to come out of it, pride and everything, but this never happened, “You make it sound as if he belongs to me. I think it is much the other way around.” Ice blue eyes glanced up from her own horse now and back towards the knight, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anybody else say that before,” she replied quietly, a small smile resting on her lips, “Actually, it is quite strange hearing it from anybody’s mouth but my own.” Perhaps she and Lancelot were alike in more ways than they thought. It was not something that she often heard from men, since they thought horses were nothing more than objects rather than animals with personalities.

The more he talked, the more she felt that she was getting to know him. While not the whole picture, it was still a small piece of it in which she felt hat she alone could see. Of course, everybody interpreted people in each their own way, and even then, she was not the only one stirring this with her questions, but what he chose to answer also painted the picture for her. Although when she murmured something, Lancelot asked if she had any more questions and she replied no. It was a lie, she was certain that he knew it, and yet, he did not press on unlike so many other people. It was honorable that he respected her in such a way. Their conversation turned to Silver and how he waited, but neither one of them could provide an answer. Her ice blue eyes rested on the white stallion for a moment as he walked along without much of a car. A snort escaped him, and he shook his head slightly. Faerydae supposed that neither she nor Lancelot would ever truly know the real reason as to why the white horse decided to wait on the knight and then follow him afterwards, as life often did, Silver would keep them guessing until the end of time.

His words about knights were a little shocking, although, what did she know, the life of a knight was not something that she had the privilege to gaze behind. Perhaps he was right, maybe there was a lot of pressure put on knights. After all, stories had painted these images of beautiful, clean men in shining jousting armor on white horses, people’s ideals could be blown askew and she could see that. Her ice blue eyes glanced over Lancelot for a moment, her knight, while handsome in his own way, was nothing of the tales that made knights out to be. He looked rugged, a man of the forest. His armor was hardly that for jousting, if anything, it was simply chainmail over regular cloth and clothes. Sher-Fore, was not a snow white like Silver, but of the darkest blacks she had ever seen, a midnight black. The young woman had been so lost in her thoughts, that his voice snapped her out of her day dreams and thoughts, his eyes searching hers out and their gazes locked, “And why would you rather have me than the greatest of all the Knights of Camelot. He and his …. future queen …. No matter who she is …. will represent the best in Britain, unlike me.”

She held his gaze for a moment, and then smiled, “You tell me that people expect too much of knights, and yet you call Arthur Pendragon the greatest of all knights,” the young woman commented lightly, “You, unlike Arthur, are a free man. You’re not caged by people’s thoughts and expectations of you,” she went on now, her gaze finally breaking from the knight’s and looking ahead of her now, “No…I pity Arthur Pendragon more than the dead.” But perhaps the young prince was changing, breaking out of his cage now, something that she herself had not been able to do. No, she would not have Arthur as her knight, never in a million years, for in many ways, Faerydae found herself in describing what she thought was the prince. Uther bore down on his son, the people of Camelot as well; in fact, the young woman had heard so many things about the prince now that she herself was uncertain of what was fact and what was myth. The pressure he must feel some times, “Besides, when of royal or noble lineage, you don’t have a choice of who get to marry.”

While that conversation had ended, Faerydae had made the mistake of making an observation that she shouldn’t have said out loud. There was shock and anger within Lancelot’s voice, and because of it, she kept her gaze ahead of her and hard on the trees. She shouldn't have done it, brought up such a painful thing. After all, it was hard to talk about her own past love, let alone that she should have the nerve to bring up his. He sounded wounded; perhaps fate had already decided the knight’s fate. After their rather awkward silence, something that might have been there in the beginning in which they had met, Lancelot was quick to change the topic once more and asked her a difficult topic: magic. In many ways, her answer was rather politically correct, it chose no sides and remained neutral, it was something that would come out of the mouth of a queen rather than a young woman of the forest, “I of course, am not of magic, However, I do not think that magic, in of itself is good or evil, only those who use it are, It is something to respect and fear, I’ll grant you that.” Her gaze moved towards him now for a moment, it was a curious think for him to say, and it was very different from everybody else, “What made you come across this philosophy?”

Their conversations seemed to be dying though. Uther hardly held any conversation, and when Lancelot stumbled onto her being queen, her reaction must have given something away for he apologized for it, although, there really was no need for it. She tried to tell him, but her words almost felt empty to her, but of course, the knight had no way of knowing. Besides, she herself had stumbled into many of bad conversations with him, and she had hardly said sorry for it, merely went quiet and didn’t say anything at all. She stirred the conversation away now, and it ended on the gryphon story, and how he killed it. But his ending to the story hardly made sense, and perhaps he saw that both she and Silver were hardly believing, but they allowed it to drop like everything else and the silence began to fill the woods and their conversations. There was a tension there, but she was uncertain as to what it was. They left though, and perhaps the caves held more promise for them, and yet, when they got there, she wished to tend to her arm. Something happened then, Lancelot grabbed her hand. She felt as if she felt electricity, there was a crackling in the air almost as his hand had encompassed her completely. Perhaps others would have pulled their hand away, but not her, she simply returned his move, and no sooner than she did, the moment had ended.

And when it did, she thought that whatever this was for both her and Lancelot had ended. She felt as if he was sending her away, and while it seemed innocent enough, she still thought it was a ploy and he would leave as soon as she left for the steam. In many ways, the young woman almost feared leaving and coming back to find the knight and his black Arabian gone. Because of that fear, she did not leave; instead, she did something different and almost felt compelled. Maybe it was still a high off of the touch of his hand, but something was making her wish to stay with him and made her insides twist in pain at the thought of leaving, of ending whatever it was that they had created. So she got off her mount and moved towards the knight now, leaving behind Silver and going to Lancelot. And yet, she felt hesitant still about telling him anything, but his queen comment had bothered her and she did not want any separation between them, and in the heat of the moment, somehow managed to spit out a condensed version of her past. Somehow, the answer that she had gotten had not been what she had expected, not just in words, but in action as well for he had kissed her.

The electricity and crackling was back, and everything felt so natural to her. Nothing was wrong about this, everything felt right. It was almost as if there was a pull between them, something that kept on drawing them back in towards each other. Their gazes never broke contact and she felt herself getting lost in his pale blue eyes as he asked her why he would ever want to leave her. Faerydae could not answer right away, for she was distracted by his fingers unraveling her braid and playing with it now, the touch gentle and caring. It was the most delayed answer she had ever given, and it was hardly romantic. There was something about Lancelot that made her nervous, and at a loss of words, which probably was why she gave such a pathetic answer, although, she decided better to make it up with her actions. Standing on her tip toes and using her hands against his chest to support her as she kissed rose to kiss him, and Lancelot himself allowed his head and lips to drop to hers. The kiss was long, and every second, it seemed to grow deeper. As the kiss ended for her though, it did not for Lancelot as his lips descended down her neck.

Faerydae felt her breath grow a little more labored, and a shiver ran down her spine. Every time his lips touched the skin of her neck, the young woman felt on fire, as if her skin was crackling and peeling off. Coming from Lancelot, she could hear low sounds of content escaping him each kiss that he laid on her, and she herself fought hard to not allow anything to escape her. His arms wrapped around her lower back now and pulled her in closer and up into him. He probably had been forgetting about their height differences for with his pull, she felt herself have to wrap her arms around his neck for a moment before she slowly untied his cloak and allowed it to fall to the floor. Breaking slightly free, she allowed herself to place her feet back firmly on the floor now as her hands separated the chainmail from the cloth, starting to slowly pull it free without disturbing him too much until having to pull it over his head and arms. The moment that the chain mail, Faerydae allowed herself to move in close to him again, pressing herself against the knight, her knight. She felt safe with him, his arms like towers or trees that stood over her now. Her fingers tugged slightly on his shirt, causing it to expose part of his collar bone and her lips brushed up against it for a moment before allowing herself to drop back to her normal stature, her head turning to rest against his chest as she leaned into him, “I felt dead until I met you,” she murmured softly now, her eyes closed for a moment as the young woman felt his chest lift up and down each time he took a breath.

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Lancelot had half-expected her to suddenly turn Silver perpendicular to his and Sher-Fore’s path and high-tail it through the forest. He expected that she was familiar enough with the territory, since he had assumed that they had covered it in their travels pretty extensively over the past several years. Likewise, as they traveled forward through the Forest of Balor they a\had crossed over several streams on their way to the caves that they were seeking. She could have taken Silver and traveled along one of those streams until they ran across a concentration …. a cluster of population. However, Fae and her mount had never struck out on a course like that, and Lancelot had his doubts whether they ever would. Despite the fact that they, Dae and her mount, had never taken advantage of these opportunities was not evidence that they wanted to stay with Sher-Fore and Lancelot, Lance thought to himself. There was the fact, as well, that she didn’t seem to have enough interest in him to even start a conversation. She might answer a question he had, but she would never offer anything up independently or without being prodded. It was evident, he smiled grimly, that she would never give him any more information than she felt that he needed to know.

The whole process was infuriating, but Lancelot did his best to keep his cool. It was not the easiest thing, though, to keep his emotions on an even keel around her. He realized that he was not talking that much, just more than she was, but he felt she had to compromise some if this relationship, or whatever it was called, was ever going to survive. He was almost sure that she did not care one way or another about him. Sure, undoubtedly, she was grateful for putting everything on the line when he had intervened to protect her. There was nothing that had required to intervene, except his principles. He could have simply ridden on, but that wasn’t him. He had to do right by his principles and he had. However, he would have done the same for anyone else, even one who was not beautiful like she was. It had not been difficult for him to believe that she had been a queen, she carried herself quite regally he thought. It was much harder for him to believe that she did not have a significant other somewhere. It was difficult enough for him to keep his eyes off of her, but it was even more difficult for him to believe that she might give him a chance.

Lancelot had never had anyone, not really. If he would have pressed the issue he was sure that Gwen would have come with him, wherever he went, and he knew they could have been happy. However, he knew that she was best served in being with Arthur. Many times he had regretted what he had done, but each time that he thought it through again, he had come to the same conclusion. It was a sacrifice he had been willing to make and he had made it. He had once again willingly became the nomadic Knight, carrying what few personal effect he had with him, on horseback, and the only personal relationship that mattered was with his horse, Sher-Fore. The reason why was simple. Frequently the nature of that relationship between man and horse would determine whether life was likely to continue for the Knight in the near future.

So, the relationship between Dae and Lancelot may have been in question, but such was not the case between Silver and Sher-Fore. Any boundaries that there might have been between the two before had been removed by nightfall. The horses communicated well by body language. It seemed that Dae, on the other hand, strove to shut down any form of communication as soon as she found it, no matter where she found it. He tried to overcome her resistance, but had been unsuccessful thus far. The question was whether she was doing this on purpose, or if it was just a consequence of the habits they had gotten into over the years. It was obvious that the one thing that she was short on was the emotion of trust. Until there was some measure of trust, to build on, between the two groups, it would be difficult if not impossible to come to some sort of understanding. Words were just words, but Lance thought that perhaps she would see the commitment to those emotions in his eyes. After all, only experience would confirm whether the needed level of trust could be given.

As they continued to talk, mainly about horses, he could see the questions written across her face, and he knew the question was not about horses, exactly, but about him, and why he continued to talk to her about them, when he received no real encouragement from her. The fact of the matter was that he had never run across anyone like her. Although she said nary a word there was a regal radiance about her that attracted him to her. It was like the effect of a light attracting a fire-fly, but he hoped it was not like a spider entrapping a fly. He did not think her to be that type, but he felt with every passing moment that he was caught up more in her natural spell. He responded to her and once more used the term, milady, and saw her wince. Although it was true that he was falling for her, and he knew that she didn’t like the term, he found that he had to use out of respect for her. He had to have some way to keep her distant from him. He spun a parable about communication between people and horse, but it could have just as easily applied to just people, and he wondered whether she picked up on that, He knew that many did not look upon females as intelligent creatures, but he found in her steely and icy gaze evidence of much intelligence.

He could feel her ice blue eyes staring through him as he spoke. He could quite imagine, himself, that when she was queen that stare had been quite effective at rattling individuals who came to her court. His parable, of course, had ended with a question. And whenever something was asked of her it almost seemed that it was too much for her to bear, and her stare would be broken and she would look down upon the ground, and then to the forest. This time, though, she seemed to be not trying to escape the question, but perhaps was thinking it through. After all of that thought, occurring after several moments, she graced him with a simple and soft affirmative. This was different. Normally, she would simply not answer, or answer with a challenge or edge in her voice. This time she actually agreed with him, so he took it as the green light to continue, which he did. He went on to talk about trust and the things that we, as people, should do to encourage that. He ended it with both a question about trust and a comment, and wondered if he had been able to promote an answer or response from her.

At first, he saw, what it accomplished was that she stared at him for a good while, undoubtedly trying to figure out what he had said and what it meant. “Hinting, milady? I don’t think I was hinting at anything. I think that I was most clear and direct in my references to trust and what we must do to promote it.” He understood of course that the literal meaning of his words had dealt with the relationships between people and horses, and how they communicated with each other. However, he was also aware of the underlying sub-text of how people communicated and the importance of trust. He was sure that was what she was referring to, but as he had considered earlier, she was more than intelligent enough to figure that one out without any more help from him. He smiled slightly at the little obstacle that he had given her, but he did his best just to stare ahead, even though his greatest temptation was just to look upon her.

The issue of the term ‘milady’ had, of course, come up and head explained why he felt that he must use it. She had said why she did not want it. Lancelot had been a traveler and an inhabitant of the forests for some time, and he knew very well that they were not egalitarian neighborhoods. There were animals that were the dominant predators, and others that served as their prey. It was not all peace and tranquility, no matter what people liked to think. Generally when she asked a question he did not respond forcefully or quickly. He generally had considered an answer over several moments. This time, though, his response was direct, and forceful ….. a demanding question of his own. And he seemed to catch her by surprise and off-guard.

She had responded with a quick answer, but one that he knew recognized partial defeat, with which he responded with an answer that was a more complete rebuttal, as well as a smile that recognized that he had finally drawn he out on an issue, and exchanged some views. He hoped the result would not dissuade her from discussing others. She just couldn’t give in. She had to have a response before she moved on to other subjects. Just that fact, that she put together an organized retreat caused a slightly broader smile on his face as they moved forward. He did not know how her attitudes felt about this turn of events and conversation, and he was somewhat afraid of finding out, so he changed their focus back to their horses, by digging in his cloak for a green apple that he fed to Sher-Fore. He then dug in his cloak for another and offered it to Dae. He would not be so presumptuous to offer it to Silver directly. He saw a smile come to her lips that lit up her whole face, making her almost irresistible he thought, and he could not help but make a comment about it to her, no matter what her reaction might be.

He saw her face light up with color, and somewhat surprisingly she did not react negatively. In fact, she acted somewhat embarrassed and actually thanked him. Quickly he responded, “You are most welcome, milady, but such things that are so obvious need not be thanked.” He saw how her face reacted negatively to the story of how he had acquired Sher-Fore. He took it for granted that her facial expression was in reference to how he had been originally treated and not how he had acquired him. However, he decided not to pursue the subject unless she brought it up. He could see, though, that she was doing much thinking, and he assumed it was about his horse. He had no reason to believe that she thought about Lancelot at all. She had reached out to touch Sher-Fore, after first asking for a sort of permission. After he had most willingly accepted her touch, she responded, “And so, I pass the test.” She almost seemed surprised, Lancelot thought, and replied, “of course you did ….. what male horse would turn aside from such a beautiful patron?”

It was quite easy to see that Silver was not particularly happy with this turn of events and all of the attention that Lancelot’s horse was getting. Therefore, Dae addressed the situation, reassuring Silver. She had congratulated Lance on his fortune to acquire such a fine stallion as Sher-Fore. He was surprised that she stated it in such a way. She had said as if Lancelot had taken ownership of the horse. She was the last person that he thought would talk like that. It was almost insulting, Lancelot thought, but he assigned it to a poor choice of words. When he responded that it was more the reverse …. that Sher-Fore had selected him, Dae seemed somewhat surprise, basically saying that those were more words that she expected to come out of her mouth. He could see that she was suddenly thinking very deeply about something, but he knew better to inquire too much.

He could see that her thought was very deep, so he inquired whether she had any more questions. When she replied in the negative it confirmed that it was either something about Lancelot or Sher-Fore, with the odds being in favor of the stallion. Unfortunately, Lancelot thought, as the light continued to dim as dusk passed over them, a silence creeped once more among them. When their conversation did resume it dealt with the life of a Knight, and this time, from his perspective. She did not say much, so he did not know if that meant that she agreed or not. At the end off his conversation, though, he could feel her icy blue eyes giving him the once-over, as if she was trying to determine what kind of knight he had been. He could not help but make a negative comparison between himself and the man he felt was the greatest of living Knights, Arthur Pendragon.

Suddenly, at that remark, she surprised him. Dae unleashed a torrent of words that he had not heard, nor expected from her. “Aye …. I can understand how you might feel that is a contradiction, from me. However, just from observation it is clear that Arthur is head and shoulders above all other knights, including myself. So, I would not call that opinion, but a fact. Although, it is also true that I bested him once on the training field. Hmmm …. perhaps …. But it is also true that there is all kinds of freedom. The idea that people have that freedom means that we can do whatever we please is not a proper one. That would lead to chaos and anarchy. God ….. and through them ….our monarchs give us the freedom to make our choices and the paths we follows, to choose right or wrong, good or not. After all, that’s what life is about, the choices we make, is it not? Hmmm ….. oh ….pity him for his father …. but otherwise …. he did get the girl after all,” Lancelot smiled slightly. “Oh, I think he has choice, and that he has chosen well.”[/

Lancelot had done his best not to show bitterness in his voice, but when she had brought the subject up before, he had not been able to hide it, he knew. As quickly as he could he had moved it on to another subject, magic. He just had to make sure that he didn’t implicate Merlin in anything that he said. He had sought to re-direct the discussion from himself to her, so that he wouldn’t say anything about Merlin that he shouldn’t. He found her answer to be uncharacteristically ambiguous, for her. He gave his own views, which were pretty close to the truth, where he did not find magic itself to be good or evil, and then she asked the question that went to the heart of the matter. How had he come upon these views? “How …. as in all things they were acquired through experience and seeing people exercise magic both for good and for bad,” he said simply.

A great silence ensued, as they approached the caves. That’s not to say that there wasn’t attempts at conversation, about him deferring to her as a former queen, and why he shouldn’t, and his story of the battle with the enchanted Gryphon. However, each of those ended in dead air. Finally, though, they reached the caves, and she expressed the need to go back to one of the streams to clean her wound. He didn’t want her to go alone, and he had grabbed her arm by his bare hand, and he had felt something. The moment was ended, however, by a jealous horse, Silver. Lancelot, though, saw it as a sign, and told her that he had changed his mind, and that she and Silver could go and do what they needed to. His plan, essentially, was to build a fire for the, with a stock of firewood nearby to keep them warm. Perhaps he would catch some fish for them, and leave both food and fuel for them, and be on his way.

He had expected her to mount her horse and already be off, but was surprised when he found her still there and walking right up to him, within inches, but looking down. He had not expected it, but she looked up at him, and in a few short sentences spat out what had brought her from being queen to her present state. Then she told him that she didn’t want to leave, but would if he asked. She had then looked hesitant once more, and looked down at the ground, when he made his instinctual move, lifting her chin, and planting a light kiss on her lips. It was his way of wordlessly telling her that it was all right, and would always be. She was a person he cared for, whether she be queen or forest-dweller. But just so he was clear he spoke and asked her why would he want her to go away.

She gazed into his eyes for what seemed to long time before saying, hesitatingly, “I…I don’t know,” as if she wasn’t quite sure. He was afraid that if they broke eye contact that the moment would be broken, so he didn’t, as he hoped she would not look away either. The only time that she looked away was when she watched him unbraid her long platinum blond hair braids and watches the strands fall next to her face as his fingers played with the individual strands. He got himself in the proper position, given the fact that he was so much taller, and figuring that he didn’t want her to suddenly change her mind, he had angled his head down toward hers for what he planned to be a long and deep kiss, unless she objected. He had no idea of what she was thinking, so he was surprised when she reached out to balance herself on his chest and her height seemed to mysteriously grow a few inches, just before their lips met, and he began to taste the moist inside of her lips. As he descended down her neck, he heard her gasp for breath as she had not been able to take on air during their long kiss. With each small little kiss on her neck Lancelot could feel her body react to each one.

Finally, though, even he had to separate, step back and take a breath. He found the back of his neck was tingling like it had never done before. He wondered what her reaction would be. He thought it was possible, even that she would back up to her horse and ride away into the night. He had not realized until he had set her back down that somehow she had untied his cloak, or it had untied itself, as it fell in a pile at his feet. To his surprise almost as soon as her feet touched the floor of the cave he could feel her pulling the chain mail away from his clothing. At last, she had separated enough, where Lance dipped his head low, as if bowing to her, so she could take the chain mail off over his head and shoulders. It considerably lightened his load. Now, it was her turn to move in close, and Lancelot only had his shirt to separate himself from her, an if she wished she get a much sample of his natural aroma tan he had before.

It was a little bit of a shock that she was taking the lead now, he thought, but a welcome one. He gripped her by her bare shoulders, but was surprised that she tugged on the top of his shirt, exposing the collarbone, and popping the top button on his shirt. He felt her lips brush the exposed area there at the top of his chest, the sensation driving him crazy, as she dropped he head upon his chest, her lips at just the upper edge of where his shirt now was. “mmmmmmmmmm”/ he moaned slightly as he listened to her words. “Take my word, you are very much alive,”, as he felt her face against his upper chest, sniffed the aroma of her hair, and ran his fingers through it. “You know, there are springs at the back of the caves. Perhaps you would want to clean your wound out there,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her upper back, with each hand cupping an uncovered shoulder. As they began to walk there, though, he wished that he had met her several years ago, at the beginning of her exile, and before he had gone to Camelot. For there he had discovered and left the true love of his life, and he knew it unlikely that there could ever be another. He and Dae could be good friends he knew, but he would have to find the words that any more than that would be unlikely, and he had been wrong and unknightly to suggest otherwise to her.

(edited and modified)