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Post by Catalina Regalis on Mar 21, 2011 22:47:02 GMT -5
He smiles politely back at you, you stare politely right on through Mercia, it was a beautiful land but it could not compare to that of Camelot in Catalina's mind. It was like comparing a sunrise to a sunset, both different but each had their own alluring beauty. Catalina preferred sunrises, seeing the light chasing away the darkness to herald a new day was always a beautiful thing. A new day meant new hope and new opportunities as well as new dangers. Life... a double-edged sword if ever there was one. It was a regular occurrence that her thoughts would resemble that of poetry, especially when she was relaxed and amongst nature as she was at that moment. It was a calm afternoon so far as the druidess wandered through the depths of the forest, the scent of rain in the air was something she so loved. A storm was approaching but she welcomed it.
Catalina had reason for her wanderings. Her little nephew had developed a fever overnight and she worried for him, thus why she was picking herbs in order to create a concoction for him to drink. He was her little angel, she couldn't allow anything to befall him and while it was just a fever for now, it could take a turn for the worst if not handled quickly and efficiently. So she had gone out to collect the correct herbs she needed for her concoction.
Even still, she found the serenity of the forest comforting and it eased her worried mind. Cat knew that worrying would do neither herself nor her nephew any good, so she relaxed for the time being as she bent down every so often to snag an herb here and there. There was always a danger in traveling alone and Catalina had seemed to be the kind of girl who attracted trouble like a moth to the flame but it wouldn't scare her into staying with her camp at all times. She couldn't restrict herself in such a way just because she feared something might happen. As far as she was concerned, things happened for a reason and she had survived this long, though she didn't know how half the time. She had survived attacks from Uther's guards and ruffians seeking to harm her and yet she still drew breath so either she was stronger than she seemed or fate had other things in store for her.
An unforeseen destiny perhaps...
The blonde druidess tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and sighed as she looked around. Every so often she thought she heard something but given the life within the forest, it was not a surprise. She just had to be careful and keep alert, not to be caught unawares as she had been before. She was starting to learn that while she did not have to take another's life in order to protect herself, making it so that they were incapacitated was perfectly acceptable and so she had learned more spells of that nature for her own protection. Better to be safe than sorry.
The clouds gathered overhead slowly but surely, proving that the smell of rain in the air had been right after all. The rain didn't fall yet but it was only a matter of time. Seeing this, she pulled the red hood of her cloak over her head and continued gathering herbs.
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Tags; Lancelot Word Count; 567 Lyrics; 'How To Save A Life' The Fray Time-frame; Late Afternoon - After 'Lancelot and Guinevère'
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Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2011 8:44:54 GMT -5
The weather matched Lancelot's mood, and it had not changed since he had taken leave of Prince Arthur, Merlin, and of course .... the beautiful Gwen, outside of Hengist's castle. It had been gloomy, foggy, and rainy, as he had traveled slowly in the forests toward and into Mercia. He had not realized that Gwen had possibly cared for and about him the way that he had about her, when he had gone into a self-imposed exile from Camelot, after he had killed the Gryffon, and saved Prince Arthur in the process. As a result of those actions the Prince had wanted .... almost demanded by the sound of it ..... for Lancelot to be re-instated as a Knight of Camelot. However, Lancelot had not been of British nobility, and he had compounded it by having a falsified seal of nobility. King Uther therefore had looked at it as a double-betrayal. Lancelot knew that he would never accept him back as Arthur desired.
He could tell, even from outside the Great Hall, the argument that was ensuing. He knew that he had to act before it got any worse and there was irreparable damage between father and son. So, he had charged into the Great Hall and told them both that he was leaving, and that he hoped to prove himself elsewhere and show himself worthy to be a Knight of Camelot. The one positive thing was that the king did not tell him that he would never be worthy.
He wondered now if the king had known what would happen. Lancelot had started out, on his ride away from Camelot, not knowing that Gwen was watching him leave, as well as Merlin, with such high hopes. Perhaps King Uther knew that he would not be accepted elsewhere, either, that other kings would accept only nobles from their realms. He could not even be accepted as a page ... he was too old for that. He had to sell his services as a soldier to those that needed those services. At first he was choosy about who he would work for, and what he would do. As the time went forward, however, he could not afford to be choosy. He also found that once he worked for one noble, others would not want him, fearing for his loyalty. As time went on he had to submit this intermittent income with what he could get for the random contest, usually something that involved a gladiator-like fight to the death.
Lancelot realized that was what he was becoming ..... a gladiator .... killing for the sport of others. He had forgotten what he had wanted to become a knight for. That was when hie eyes caught Gwen when she was masquerading as Morgana in Hengist's castle. Perhaps just seeing her was enough to bring it all back to him .... the man and knight he had been before. Actually, all it did was make him curious about how she had become Morgana. After some searching he had found her in the cells, asked her what had happened, and had reached through the bars to comfort her, but at the touch of her fingers, and the words she spoke, realized that she had felt as he had. He tried to explain .... that things had gone bad for him after they had parted .... and that he had found the world to be a different place than he had thought it was. She helped him re-discover what he had lost.
He realized that what he had to do was to help her escape. He was willing to face his death, after re-discovering what he had lost. The escape attempt, despite starting out well had ended in their re-capture. Fortunately, Merlin and Prince Arthur had suddenly appeared, engineering their escape. However, despite their escape, and Lancelot re-discovering what he had lost, and the affection he had not seen from her, he discovered something else .... the love that Prince Arthur had for Gwen. Despite the fact that Gwen had rescued him from the depths of despair of what he had become, he could not stand between the person he had sworn to protect, and he left them in the fog and drizzle, which was where his present journey had begun.
Gwen had re-ignited the desire in him to serve, but leaving her the way he had, without even a true good-bye, had left a hole in his heart, as he rode slowly through the dimness into Mercia. The gloomy, foggy, drizzly conditions not only prevented him from noticing the beauty of the forest around him, but that and his now-clouded thoughts led him to not notice the group of forest-bandits that was now en-circling him. As intended, they attacked him almost at the same time. However, the fact that he fought two-handed, with a long-sword in each hand, allowed him to dispatch them all, with little damage to himself.
However, he did not notice 'the last man'. their leader, who snuck up behind him, and thrust his sword, low, through his left shoulder. Lancelot quickly spun around, slicing the bandit's throat with a mighty back-hand, but the damage was done, and he had already begun to lose large quantities of blood. He leaned down, hugging his stallion's neck, so as not to fall off as they approached the edge of the forest, snapping branches on the ground as the horse moved slowly. "Is this how it's all supposed to end?," Lancelot groaned to himself in a half-whisper through clenched teeth .......
(hope I did not pose too much .. since most came directly from the ep in Series 2)
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Post by Catalina Regalis on Mar 23, 2011 17:26:36 GMT -5
He smiles politely back at you, you stare politely right on through The light mist of drizzle could be felt against her arms as she moved through the forest. While it added a bit of chill to the air and made the ground softer, she did not turn back just yet. There was a particular herb that grew nearby that she wished to procure before she returned to the encampment where her sister and nephew were waiting for her. Her Uncle was becoming more and more worried for her wandering too far from them, he thought her to be foolish for not remaining but he didn’t understand. Perhaps it was because of their traveling or maybe it had always been born into her but she was very restless. She couldn’t just sit still, she never could. She had to keep moving, whether it’s traveling or riding her horse. She found no interest in sitting with the other druids and doing nothing. The only time she was able to remain still was when she studied or practiced her magic and that was only because it engaged her. She could focus then.
Catalina had only just added the last herb into her small basket when the sound of a fight broke out not far from where she was. Her instant reaction was to run and had she not thought that it would bring attention to her, she might have. Her heart raced in her chest as she hid behind a tree, shaking somewhat. Only when she was sure that no one had caught sight of her did she peer around the oak tree to see what was going on. A group of forest bandits had chosen to attack on man, a sure death for the lone figure she was sure. She thought that but she was wrong in her assumption and underestimation because Lancelot proved to be more than just a mere traveler. Fighting with dual swords, Lancelot bested those that attacked him as though they were nothing. The battle shouldn’t have turned out as it did but in a matter of bloody moments, the forest bandits had been cut down and Lancelot stood the victor. It was sorrowful that there had been such death, it stole away the serenity of the forest but those men had brought it upon themselves.
The strong scent of odor filled the air and the battle seemed to be over. It seemed safe to make a quick retreat but as she started to step out from behind the tree, the sound of steel meeting flesh could be heard. Blue eyes widened as the leader was killed after his underhanded attempt to kill Lancelot. Despite the swordsman’s victory, she could see just how injured he had been. What should she do now? He was losing a lot of blood and would perish if he did not get help soon but the closest village wasn’t for miles of the forest. It wasn’t her responsibility to help him, he could be a soldier of Uther’s that would kill her after she healed him but could she really allow herself to let a man die on mere assumption alone?
In her ponderings, she hadn’t noticed Lancelot mount his horse and start off towards the edge of the forest. She could hear the horse’s steps though. Making a quick and possibly dangerous decision, she pushed off from the tree and headed off in the direction of the horse and it’s injured rider. It was fortunate for her that she was able to move quickly and the horse itself had been traveling slowly because she soon caught up with Lancelot. She was hesitant at first, afraid to approach him for fear of what she may be bringing upon herself but the need to help someone in trouble overrode her fear. Walking slowly but confidently, she moved alongside his horse and gently took hold of the reigns to halt it. “Shhh.” She whispered to the horse, waiting for it to stop completely before moving around to the other side. “I can help you, if you’ll let me.”
First thing she needed to do was help him down from the horse because she couldn’t help him if he was up high. Assuming he allowed her, she’d help him down from his horse and ask him to sit so that she had a better view of the wound. “Remove your shirt quickly.” She had healed sword wounds before but Lancelot had lots a great deal of blood, this would be iffy. Thankfully, being the paranoid sort, she carried healing poultices with her cause she was kind of a clutz. The wound itself would be tricky but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle as long as she stayed focused and was able to remember the correct spell that would help in the healing. He would still ache and it would leave a nasty scar but he would still be alive and that was what mattered most really. She didn't know him, didn't know his intentions but as long as she could help, she would. It wasn't in her to ignore someone in need. "Focus on my voice and keep try awake no matter what it takes." It seemed a moot point to say such a thing since it was obvious but she felt it must be said just the same.
[SHIRTLESS LANCELOT MMMMM! I mean…totally not personal gain here, helping! She’s helping! Anyway, I didn’t try to take too many liberties, if you want me to edit anything, I will : ) ]
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Tags; Lancelot Word Count; 800 Lyrics; 'How To Save A Life' The Fray Time-frame; Late Afternoon - After 'Lancelot and Guinevère'
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Post by Deleted on Mar 28, 2011 17:21:44 GMT -5
This was not the first time that Lancelot had been ambushed in his adult life, as short as it had been thus far. He was generally alone, especially when traveling, and it was a wonder that not only he had survived, but that his stallion rarely came out of it with any more than a scratch. This time he cursed himself, but not from his lack of ability or skill. By being so deep in thought he had not paid enough attention to his immediate surroundings, which had allowed himself to be surrounded. He had more than enough confidence in his own skill to dispatch a significant number of men, although decisively outnumbered. There was always that one unexpected assailant that you were unprepared for. Sometimes you were lucky enough to get away from such an enemy. This one picked the exact spot, where both his outer uniform was vulnerable, but could cause a lot of damage. He had been able to react with speed and precision, but the damage was already well-done.
He had been hurt in battle so few times, mainly due to his developing skill, as well as a bit of luck, that the feel of the cold steel slicing through his clothing and skin were a strange sensation indeed. The back of his shoulder tried to recoil from the bow, as he felt a deep burning sensation an a feel of a rapidly growing moistness that was expanding own his left shoulder. At least for the time being, though, he ha not lost any strength in that shoulder, ever lifting one of the heavy long-swords in his left-hand, quickly bringing it to nearly shoulder-height, before using its weight and mass to build the momentum of a long swinging arc. He was wagering that whoever had struck the blow to his back would still be close, hoping for a final killing blow. Given where he had been struck, if they were still in range he knew that his sharp sword would at least gash the upper chest, or even the lower neck if he was lucky enough, and his opponent's neck was unprotected. As the rest of his body followed behind the swinging arc of his long-sword he first heard a gasp, saw the man drop his sword .... his hands to his throat with a slow gurgling sound as he fell off his own horse.
Lancelot hear no more sounds, as he listened for many seconds, so he was sure that that had indeed been the last man. However, he knew that the damage had been one, an that it was significant and severe, and he was alone in the middle of the forest, likely far from anyone who could help him. He had just given up, he thought, the woman who had seemed for a brief shining instant to be the woman who had been meant for him, and he for her. So, perhaps, this is how it was meant to be, that it was fitting that a man exiled as a Knight of Camelot, and denied at his one chance for true love. Perhaps he should just find a quiet place in one of these thickets to slide down for his horse and sit comfortably against tree until the end came.
As he tried to direct his horse forward to a deeper section of the forest, he found that the black stallion, Sher-Fore was not being being extremely cooperative. In fact, he was going in exactly the opposite direction that Lancelot wanted to .... not deeper in but actually toward the edge! "NO .... Sher-fore ..... NO ...... not that way ........ this way," he raspily whispered, tugging the reins of the horse back toward the forest. Hew tried it twice, but to no effect. He was determined to overrule his determined to overrule the stubborn animal, and try for a third time, but before he could, he felt the reins being pulled from his hands? "WHA ..... WHAT ..... WHO ....." and then he heard a small voice, somewhat feminine, addressing him. "Hmmm ........ you can what? Thank you for the offer, but I'm afraid I may be too far along," he said.
He wanted to fight her offers of help, thinking that it would likely only put her in danger. There was no telling how many bandits might still be around. However, some of strength had been drained along with his blood, and he was having trouble staying conscious, let alone fighting her suggestions, whoever she was. "I am afraid that you will have to help me .... girl ..... there are several items that we will have to remove first before we can get down to the shirt. I'm afraid that I can't move my left arm much either, so you would have to do much of the work." He removed his outer cloak quickly enough, and took off his heavy jacket underneath it. If only he had had his mail on when they had escaped Hengist's castle, the sword-blade would not have penetrated so easily, he thought. She removed his heavy jacket easily enough, and then he unfastened the front of his shirt and she removed it easily enough from his right shoulder, but the blood had congealed in the fibers of the shirt on the back of his left shoulder, reopening the wound and letting blood flow as she pulled it away, and he grimaced. "Why do you want to help me anyway. It would have been easier just to let me go."
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Post by Catalina Regalis on Mar 28, 2011 21:20:01 GMT -5
He smiles politely back at you, you stare politely right on through Perhaps it was best that Catalina had not been granted the ability to look into the minds of others. Had she such a gift, Lancelot’s thoughts surely would have left her in tears. Seeing Lancelot dying of a loss of blood was bad enough but the knowledge that he had all but given up as well was just heartbreaking. There was a chance that her magic and her healing poultices wouldn’t be enough to save his life, he had been very badly wounded and he had lost so much blood. There was a good chance that he was nothing but a lost cause and she was merely wasting her magic and time on a dead man riding but she wouldn’t accept that as truth. No one was a lost cause, not ever and she would do all she could to help him. The beautiful stallion didn’t seem to mind her presence, perhaps realizing that she was there to help it’s master or perhaps it was too focused on the distress it could so easily feel from Lancelot.
It seemed that Lancelot did not notice her presence just yet for he weakly sought to turn the horse in the direction he wished to go. Didn’t exactly make sense either, considering how wounded he was, why would he wish to go deeper into the forest? Perhaps she would ask him that later if she remembered, for now she had to focus. The poor man was so confused, combination of blood loss and his lack of being able to see her, she wasn’t sure how much time she had but she had to do this quickly. She held the reins tightly though not enough to cause the stallion any discomfort, just enough to make the horse follow her lead and stop when she stopped. “Thank you for the offer, but I'm afraid I may be too far along," Nope, she didn’t believe that at all. She shook her head to show that she was determined. He wasn’t too far gone until he was at death’s door and even then she would try to save him. She didn’t really need a reason why other than that it was the right thing to do and she’d hope that if she were in the same situation that someone would do the same for her.
The thought of danger hadn’t even occurred to the druidess as she halted the horse. Of course there could be bandits still around but her mind wasn’t on that. Seeing the amount of blood he had lost was definitely disheartening, he was so weak and so pale that she was scared that he would be dead before she got him off the horse. She figured that her presence would be quite sudden and unexplained but he could wonder more on that when he was doing better, for now he just had to trust that she genuinely wanted to help him and just accept that. Once he was down from his horse, she quickly tied Sher-Fore up so that he wouldn’t get away and than turned her attention back on Lancelot. Her heart was racing but she was doing well to remain calm the whole time, though she had been rather silly about forgetting the clothing that was over the shirt. She meant remove the clothing covered his wound but not like she was going to waste breath or time in correcting herself. He spoke and she simply nodded.
It didn’t take too much effort to remove his heavy jacket, tossing the bloody thing to the ground before getting to his shirt. She did her best not to jerk him around too much, as she didn’t wish to cause him further discomfort. Even still, she knew what would happen upon removing his shirt, it would reopen the wound and he would bleed more but it had to be done. Catalina removed it quickly and winced somewhat at the sight of the wound. It was worse than she had originally thought but it was not beyond her skills. Cat was able to use his already bloody shirt to cover the wound for the time being. Thankful for her clumsy nature for once, she set her small bag of supplies down, her poultices as well as a small bowl that she carried with her always. Placing it down next to her, she looked down at it and whispered. “æwielm.” Her eyes flickered gold and the once empty bowl filled with cool soothing water. There was no doubt that Lancelot would feel a lot of pain as Catalina worked on the wound, doing her best to clean it with a combination of the water and her healing poultices. His question caused her to arch a brow. “Why?” Why would he ask such a silly question? “Because it is the right thing to do.” She finally answered as she continued to treat his wound; she had gotten the bleeding to stop. “I could never let someone die if I could help it.”
Once the bleeding had been stopped, she pulled his bloody shirt away from the wound on his shoulder and placed her hand on the wound. It was hot to the touch but with this spell it would at least be closed off. It would still hurt him and she’d treat it with one of her poultices but it wouldn’t require sewing up. “remæn.” Her eyes flickered and Lancelot would feel an intense pain in his shoulder coming from her hand before the pain dulled to an ever-throbbing pain. Considerable effort was put behind the spell due to the severity of the injury so it took a lot out of her but she was happy to do it. The next step she took was applying the poultice to the wound and removing her red cloak to make a makeshift pillow. His shoulder had been mended but he would need to rest. His shoulder wasn’t completely healed, she wasn’t that good. Her Uncle would have been able to heal it up completely but he was stronger than she was. She worried for Lancelot especially since she didn’t know how much blood he had lost. There was still chance that it had been too much but she wouldn’t know just yet. She would stay with him until she was sure that he was alright. “You need to rest.” She said softly but sternly, handing his cloak to him to use as a blanket. He wasn’t fit to ride anywhere, not yet anyway.
“I wish I had something to help ease the pain more but I do have some water.” Only injuries she had been prepared for were the ones she usually got, small scrapes and such. Cat pulled a small water pouch from her bag and handed it to Lancelot, helping him if he needed help with it. “I’m Catalina.” She said with a gentle smile, finally introducing herself.
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Tags; Lancelot Word Count; 1180 Lyrics; 'How To Save A Life' The Fray Time-frame; Late Afternoon - After 'Lancelot and Guinevère'
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Post by Deleted on Apr 3, 2011 20:29:14 GMT -5
Why was this person here .... in the middle of the forest ......... who were they? Oh yeah .... she ..... it was a she. Hadn't she said that Catalina was her name? "Catalina .... that is a pretty name. What does it mean .... I don't ever recall hearing it before. I am Lancelot ..... Lancelot Du Lac. For a short time .... the shortest of times .... I was Sir Lancelot .... a Knight of Camelot. However, I haven't been a recognized knight in some time now." He grimaced in more extreme pain as the effects of the damage began to radiate out from his upper back and left shoulder. "Why are you out here in the first place. Its far too dangerous here, with all of these bandits about. If just one comes back, how will you defend yourself, or are you actually a sorceress with special powers," he said, suddenly wishing that Merlin was close-by. He knew, though, that was just wishful thinking. Merlin was where he should be, he expected, close to Arthur's side.
It was strange, he thought, that whoever it was, did not seem to alarm his stallion. Normally, Lancelot thought, he was quite defensive and protective of him. Perhaps the horse was acting differently because Lancelot was badly injured. Why was she wanting to take him into open, he had wondered. He had decided, though, that he really did want to head for the center of the Forest, so that he could die in peace. He thought that if he had already not lost too much blood to survive, he would soon reach that point. It was not that he did not notice her presence, but that if he ignored her long enough she might just give up and go away. He had finally given up on her ignoring him and had told her, in so many words, that he was too far gone. He saw the reaction of her body language to his statement and realized that she would not give up so easily, even to a direct request of his for her to cease and desist. Against his better judgment and at least partially due to the fact that he was tired and did not want to fight anyone, even over this subject, he stopped his horse from moving in the direction of the forest, and began to slowly turn his hose in another direction, with a deep sigh.
He suddenly realized that the horse had stopped and begun to turn as much because it was her hand on the bridle, as it came from any direction from him. In fact, she was not only stopping him and turning the horse, but pulling them in a particular direction. Perhaps as amazingly, Sher-fore, his black Arabian stallion, was not resisting in the least. That was quite unusual, for it to accept another's direction. He finally gathered in enough air, between hi coughs, to ask through gritted teeth, "Who are you again and where exactly do you plan to take me to die?," he asked. "My life is not worth so much that it is worth you putting your own life in danger. You wouldn't want that additional guilt to be put on my soul with the knowledge that yours was the last life I had a part in ending, would you?" He had his doubts about whether she knew everything that would be entailed in getting him to wherever she had in mind, in order to treat with wound. She just nodded her head, as if she understood what he was referring to. Stubborn girl, he thought to himself.
There was not much that he could do to help her with jacket or his shirt. He had begun to lose feeling in his shoulder as it began to throb and throb. He felt the pin pricks as the fabric was pulled out of the wound, but it was not as painful as he expected it would be. He had never been wounded like this before, and did not know what exactly to expect. "How does it look? Is there any blood left?," he asked trying to be as funny as he could. He could tell, though, by the look on her face, that it didn't look very good. She didn't look at the wound for very long, he noticed, which he found a bit strange, before she covered it with his bloody shirt. It was almost as if it was a crude bandage, he smiled to himself. He found it curious as well, that even though his upper half was now unclothed, and the air was quite cool, but he still felt strangely warm. He came out of these thoughts after a few moments, and heard her mumbling some words as she went through a small bag, and was preparing to dress his wound, he thought. "What did you say ...... what's in that bowl.?" He wasn't sure if the loss of blood was beginning to cause him to hear and see things .... things that weren't really there or hadn't really been said. He shook his head in an effort to clear his vision, and maybe his hearing too. He could have sworn that he had seen her eyes change color.
At least she was answering some of his questions. "Yes .... yes .... I can understand that answer. Its much as a true Knight would answer .... not because it is the easy thing, but because it is the right thing to do." Was he imagining things? He didn't know, but he now sensed that she was taking the bloody shirt off of his shoulder now. He did not feel the warm liquid trickling down his shoulder and back now, so he wondered if that meant the bleeding had stopped, or if it meant that he had run out of blood. Whichever was the case he found himself getting quite dizzy and disoriented now. He sensed her touch his shoulder with her hand, and he found the effect was immediate. "What exactly are you doing now?," he asked, as he heard her mumble a word or two again. If she had been Merlin he would have suspected magic, but he couldn't even be sure right now of what was real and what wasn't. He did feel her putting something moist on the wound, and then telling him that he needed to rest. He was in no position to argue with her, and besides, he knew intuitively that she was quite correct. Even if he had objected he no longer had the strength to resist anyone effectively, even a small and weak female, so he gave into he suggestion quite easily. He took the cloak that she offered as a blanket and tried to relax, although he didn't know if his shoulder ever would again.
He was only barely conscious now. "Well, I don't expect that you would have thought that you would have run into somebody in my condition, so water will have to do, I suppose." He commented on her name once more: "Catalina .... oh .... that is a fine name I think. It seems to have natural rhyme and beauty to it. I don't think that such can be said for Lancelot." he said as he drifted off to sleep.
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Post by Catalina Regalis on Apr 4, 2011 22:33:40 GMT -5
He smiles politely back at you, you stare politely right on through When it came to just suddenly approaching someone in the forest, there was some danger to it but given the condition that Lancelot was in at the time, Catalina was not worried for herself. She had seen all that had happened and she could see that Lancelot had already given up hope of surviving. How easily it had been lost, his hope for survival, surely he had a wish to live. If he did, she could not see it. What she could see was what the blood loss was doing to him even as she led his stallion to where she felt was best to tend to his wound, his body trembled and he was in a great deal of pain. His pallor was ashen and every so often she would hear a small voice in the back of her mind telling her that despite her determination and magic, he just wasn’t going to make it. Of course she couldn’t believe that, she had seen how strong he had been in battle so surely he had some strength left to fight for every breath he took. A warrior, regardless of title was surely too stubborn to give up so easily. Of course Cat knew nothing about this man though at least she was given his name eventually. Lancelot Du Lac. He had once been a Knight of Camelot though for only a short time. What had he done to lose such a prestigious title as that? She wished to ask but it was not her business and hopefully if she thought of it, she’d ask later.
"Why are you out here in the first place. Its far too dangerous here, with all of these bandits about. If just one comes back, how will you defend yourself, or are you actually a sorceress with special powers," For one that seemed to be dying, he did ask a lot of questions. It was a show of his good and noble nature that he would worry about her when he was the one injured. “Such questions you ask,” she said lightly with a smile, choosing not to answer his questions right now. She had to focus on the task at hand so that she had a chance later to answers any other questions he may ask. Of course the forest was dangerous but she had very little worry about bandits and such, if more came than she would do what she could to defend herself and her somewhat unwilling charge but that was a problem best left for later if later should happen. Any and all attempts at him wishing to get rid of her and go to die were ignored because while she was a respectful and polite druidess, she was quite stubborn when she wanted to be as well. The horse worried for it’s master, Catalina could see that as she so gently led the horse, it trusted her and wanted her help. Catalina was used to this sort of reception with animals, they were a lot keener on judging people than humans were, animals seemed to be able to see into people and know those who wished to help from those who wished to harm.
Lancelot needed to save his strength rather than choosing to waste it in talking but Catalina had no right to order anyone to be silent so she simply listened to what he had to say. Take him to die? “Enough life has been lost in these woods today, I won’t let yours be another.” His words were so sad; she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder at the wounded former Knight, a pang of grief resonating from him. What pain had befallen him before the wound that now threatened his life? She could think of no words to say that would reassure him so instead she simply chose to nod her head in understanding. He could think what he wished and try to make it seem that it wasn’t worth it but that wouldn’t change the fact that she was going to help him.
Removing his upper clothing was definitely not easy considering how heavy it was. It was no wonder that warriors were in the shape that they were with the weight of the clothing and armor they had to bare. Being a druid was simpler really. She could not hide the worry on her face when she saw the wound no matter how she tried and his attempt at humor was weak much like him. She did not respond with any sort of banter, she had to keep her mind on the wound and how to care for it. Of course he wouldn’t understand the way she worked, the fact that he had been a Knight of Camelot, even if only for a short time must mean that he knew very little about magic and perhaps he even hated it. She couldn’t know and she had no time to ask either. Magic would save his life and he would simply have to trust her. His questions were ignored for the time being, not out of rudeness but rather because she was very focused on her tasks. If anything, he would simply believe he was hallucinating with her magic words and such. That would actually benefit her in the long run. She didn’t need bounty hunters after her because a good deed on her part was returned with treachery. She didn’t wish to think that of Lancelot but she didn’t know him.
He responded to her answers with a response that made her smile. She knew very little of Knights other than they followed their King and were men of valor and bravery. She had been taught to fear them of course, at least those that were in Camelot because of Uther and his decrees against magic. As she worked her craft, she couldn’t help but laugh somewhat as he asked yet again what she was doing. He was as curious as she was though his was more concern for himself moreso than mere curiosity she was sure. “I’m saving your life.” She answered simply with a smile as she instructed him to rest. Thankfully he didn’t argue though whether he had decided to give in to the druid girl or simply because he had no energy left to argue, she couldn’t be sure but it didn’t matter so long as he listened. Draping the cloak over him, she looked down on him as he lay down. He would survive; she had faith in her magic and healing poultice so she didn’t have to worry so much. “You’re going to be alright Lancelot.” She whispered softly as she took a seat next to him. She had already decided that she would remain until Lancelot was able to ride. She couldn’t leave him, she had worked too hard to allow him to fall victim to some wild beast.
He was fading, slipping into unconsciousness but that was good. He needed his rest so that he could regain his strength. “You asked me earlier what my name meant. It is nothing too special. It means innocence.” Looking over to Sher-Fore, she sighed as Lancelot started to fall asleep. “I’ll be here when you wake.” She said softly before he finally faded off into sleep. With Lancelot tended to, Catalina gathered some firewood for a fire and tended to his horse as well.
Given the severity of the injury, it was no surprise that Lancelot had slept for as long as he had. When he would wake, he would find that he had slept the afternoon away and the sun had long since slipped over the horizon. Bright stars dotted the sky above and here on the ground Lancelot would see that he now rested beside a warm fire. His horse was not too far away, tethered so that he wouldn’t roam free. Sitting close to the fire sat the druidess who poked at the burning logs with a small stick, a thoughtful look on her face as she contemplated things. Her Uncle would worry for her; she knew that but she didn’t wish to risk her people by bringing Lancelot to their encampment but she could leave him either, so she remained.
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Tags; Lancelot Word Count; 1404 Lyrics; 'How To Save A Life' The Fray Time-frame; Night - After 'Lancelot and Guinevère'
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Post by Deleted on Apr 9, 2011 10:36:54 GMT -5
Why was she bothering with him he wondered through his clouded mind. It was not easy for him to understand. A true knight might risk such a thing. Lancelot, himself, might risk such a thing, especially since his own life meant so very little to him. At least it did, compared to most others. He was more than willing to lay down his life for his brother. Wasn't that what he had aimed himself toward those many years before, when he had lost all hope for his future before? At least Gwen seemed to at least have the possibility of having a good future secured, with Arthur. In fact, the three people he would most likely call friends would likely be together, and that was good. At least he could remember not having stood in the way of the happiness of any of them. The only thing that he recognized right now was the ever-present and now-growing desire for sleep ..... to rest. It would be nice, of course, for it to be warm and soft bed, where the sleep would probably come easy. However, as the moments slipped by, it became obvious that he would only need a small space to claim as his own and close his eyes. Of course he had been tired before …. many times before. This was a different kind of tired, one that went straight to his core, and he felt that he was simply drifting in a deep sleep, almost as if he was sinking in a deep pool.
His attention, though, finally, was drawn to this woman, who for some reason was attending to him. He had fired off a series of questions, none of them, on second thought, that had sounded too polite, kind, or even thankful for what she was apparently trying to do. He thought, upon some further consideration, even given his current condition, and his possible demise that behavior could not be considered very knightly. He also gathered, from second thought, that she was far too busy to answer the multitude of questions that he had just slung her way. Lancelot grimaced as she waved off his questions, at least temporarily, before responding. “My apologies, I should have known better than to disturb you when you were at your work, especially when you are working so hard on my behalf.” He decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. He had already indicated that he really did not want her to intervene on his behalf. He sensed that his desires on the matter did not really matter much. It seemed that she had decided that she was going to try and save him, no matter the danger to herself, or the likelihood that he was too badly hurt, or apparently on the last of her list of priorities …. what he wanted. He shook his head negatively. Why was she risking so much on his account? After all, now, he would not be missed by anyone, and his only real goals in life were now beyond his reach, probably forever.
Lancelot did not feel like taking the energy to initiate conversation, so he purposely went silent. It was obvious that she would not be dissuaded from the task she was attempting to do. And he would follow any specific instructions or requests that she made, but he was intent on not helping her beyond that. However, her next remarks he could not resist responding to. “None of those men deserved the opportunity to live and to rob and to take more lives. At least in that, I did one last service, a knightly one. It was instinctive though. If I had been thinking clearly I would just have let them take my life. With their numbers the end would have been quick and final.” Upon watching her nod her head, he snapped, “and what exactly would you know of it? Is it not enough that I must contend with you trying to save my life ……..mmmmmmmmmm,” he groaned slightly in pain.
He had actually thought that, perhaps, just perhaps, her efforts at healing him would be stopped by the fact that he was so much larger than she was, and the difficulty with removing his layers of mail and clothing would be too much for her. However, he was soon surprised that, even with the added weight and difficulty presented by his congealing blood, that she rather easily disrobed him, and that, at least his entire upper half was completely bared to the elements now. Looking into eyes he watched her expression as she looked over his wound, validating how serious it was as he read her face. He wondered what, now that she had him in this position, what she would do. He was helpless, as his fate now rested in her hands. She could even take whatever liberties she might desire …. given his weakened condition, there is little he could do to escape, let alone stop her. However, the one thing he sensed was her desire to help him. But what she using? Were they the medical arts, or was it something more. She was using strange words, or was he simply hearing and seeing things? Why was she not answering his questions? Did she have something to hide?
He was still not at all clear on what she was doing. How was this supposed to help him … to save his life, he wondered. The more questions he asked the more she seemed to smile. It was as if she knew something that he didn’t and she found it to be humorous. Why was she evading his questions by not giving complete answers, or sometimes any? Finally, though, she responded. “Saving my life ….. is that your only answer? And what is that supposed to mean. Rest …. Rest ….. How am I supposed to do that, if you won’t put my mind at ease by telling me what is going on?” He was getting agitated. However, is already low levels of strength were already depleted and this tired him out even more and more rapidly. As she covered much of his upper half with the cloak he realized that indeed she was just concerned with his survival and well-being and was not attracted by him, which was good, he thought. But it did not answer the question about how she had been healing him. Was it a medical art that he was unaware of, or something more? “How do you know that I will be all right, or are you just trying to comfort me in my final hours,” he wondered aloud. He also questioned, now, since her work was done, whether she would take her leave now. She would be wise to seek more safety he thought.
Lancelot could no longer keep his eyes open as he slipped into a state between sleep and a trance. He couldn’t be sure it was reality but he thought he heard her say that her name meant …. What ….. innocence? He also thought she said that she would be there when he awoke. Would he really wake up …. And be alive …. And would this angel still be there to watch over him. Or was she really a sorceress and not an angel? Only time would tell.
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Post by Catalina Regalis on May 3, 2011 23:34:14 GMT -5
He smiles politely back at you, you stare politely right on through Given the dire sense of his injury, it was surely not much of a surprise that Catalina chose to not pay his questions any mind. He sounded so weak and he needed to rest so that he would heal. She could only do so much, the rest was up to him in terms of resting but he was young and healthy looking so he should mend rather quickly. It was true that Catalina had never dealt with such a bad wound as this but she was confidant in her skills as her Uncle was a brilliant teacher. She had skill coupled with magic and determination to get her through this and when it all came down to it, she was not doing this for any sense of glory or to receive something in return. She was doing it because it was what was right. She believed that and if something were to happen to her, she would hope that others would have that same frame of mind. She was very focused on her work, so focused that she barely heard him speak again. She offered him a smile. “I understand your worry must be great given the circumstances but I am doing what I can.” That didn’t answer his many questions because it wasn’t necessary and her energy was best served in another way. The fact that he didn’t necessarily want her help was irrelevant at this point.
Hearing Lancelot speak was rather depressing. Something traumatic must have happened to him for him to feel so down and wish not to continue. Why else would one wish to expire? She couldn’t understand it but Catalina didn’t really know Lancelot either so there was a good chance that he had good reasons to feel the way he did. Even still, she wouldn’t allow him to die when she could help him. He didn’t argue with her nor did he make her task that much harder, so she was thankful for that but there was just such a heaviness about him. It saddened her. His response was somewhat abrupt and unexpected and she found herself blinking in surprise. What was she to say to that? “My uncle believes there is good in everyone, no one is beyond hope of being changed but I do not expect everyone to adopt such a mindset.” Truly was it worth it to save the body when the mind and spirit weren’t willing? Wouldn’t it be a waste? No, it was never a waste to save someone’s life. “It will not be your last service unless you make it so.” Perhaps it was best to be silent and continue her work but she couldn’t help but pipe up. “I would know enough about it to know that death is a waste of a good soul and while you do not wish to go on, sometimes that isn’t your choice to make.” Catalina believed in the Great Mother and believed that she had a purpose; the old religion was still alive. “Now please be silent, I wish to concentrate.” She wasn’t one for telling others what to do but he was distracting her with his comments.
Not once did the thought of doing anything other than healing the poor man cross the druidess’ mind. She was an innocent, a sweetheart who wished only to help others with her skills and her magic. While she was a woman who did in fact notice how attractive Lancelot was, Cat was focused on the task at hand and wouldn’t allow herself to be distracted in such a way. As for having something to hide. Didn’t they all? She didn’t wish to openly mention that she was using magic in order to help him because she didn’t wish to worry him. One never knew how another would react to the forbidden craft and he was in enough stress as it was, she didn’t wish to add more to it.
Goddess give her strength, why was he questioning her so much? She could tell that he was in pain and he was most likely scared but why berate her for doing the right thing? How was she to deal with him? Biting her lip, she looked down at him and sighed. “You speak of knightly acts. If a maiden were walking towards a cliff, wishing to throw herself off of it, would you not seek to stop her? To save her life regardless of whether she wished you to or not? Could you let another die if it was in your power to stop it?” There was no irritation in her voice, no judgment, Cat’s voice remained soft and gentle the whole time. “I fear no words that I give will put your mind at ease, why do you fight me so?” Not that he really could fight her at this point. His wound had been healed to a certain extent and the salve would hopefully do the rest. Thankfully he was tired and he would fall asleep and stop his worrying. Whether his worries and troubles would follow him into his dreams, she could not tell and that was not something she could change nor could she change his wish to live. That was something only he could work on. “Because I am good at what I do, that’s why. You will not die here, not by the wound you received. I can guarantee you that. And I mean you no harm as well.”
Gathering firewood while the man lay there, she gave his horse water and comforted the worried horse and made sure he was taken care of. When Lancelot did wake up and he would, he would wake to a night sky and a roaring fire. He would still be feeling weak but his pain would have lessened as the healing poultice had done it’s work. When Catalina noticed that Lancelot had awoken, she would turn to him with a smile. “How are you feeling?”
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Tags; Lancelot Word Count; 1014 Lyrics; 'How To Save A Life' The Fray Time-frame; Night - After 'Lancelot and Guinevère'
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Post by Deleted on May 12, 2011 22:23:46 GMT -5
He wondered why she simply had not done what he had asked. It would have been so much easier just to not have wasted the energy on him, and let him pass easily into the next life, with whatever it might hold. He had originally thought that his injuries were too severe for anyone to do much more than to delay his inevitable passing. He note, though, that although he was not feeling any better, he was not feeling worse, and wondered whether her ministrations were having an effect on him. He assumed that they be having some effect, but would they be enough? He then forced himself to consider whether, in truth, that he wanted to survive. A short time before he had thought the had found the love of his life, only to have the further realization that she was meant, by the fates for another. In truth, he might have some noble blood in his veins .... french blood .... but how could he compete with both a Crown Prince, and a friend. How could he stand between two friends? To his credit, he thought, he knew that he could not,and chose discretion as the better choice of valor,and simply left them. He had left them in as depressed state as he had ever found himself, and now, not being a Knight either, felt that he had abandoned all that was worthwhile in his life.
That is how he had begun his journey into the deep woods. Initially, he thought that what he had done would be not only in the best interests of Arthur and Gwen, but in terms of the kingdom of Camelot that they would one day rule. No one besides Arthur, Gwen,and Merlin would have an inkling of what Lancelot had done, but perhaps that was the best service he could give to Albion, Lancelot reasoned. As he had traveled, though, Lancelot thought more on what he had just done, and his mind focused more on the sacrifices that he had made,which had caused him to grow more and more depressed as time went on, and he cared less and less whether he survived. And then the bandits had descended on him, nearly taking his life at the outset of the ambush.
Now, though, he considered whether he was going to live or whether he was going to die,and now the question was whether this female's skill level was going to be high or advanced enough to help him survive his wound. Finally, though,she spoke to the issue that he had raised. "I have no worries, milady. Whether my life is taken or not is not up to me, but is reserved in the decisions of higher powers. I understand, though, that you are doing as much as is in your power to help me, and I appreciate it, even if I have my doubts as to whether you should waste your time over me." Even in his less than top mental condition, he still noted that, more-or-less she had avoided answering his other questions.
He noted that she gave him a rather strange expression. He though it reminded him of the look that people gave when they pities some poor person or animal. He could understand the look, even if he didn't approve of it. "He believes that does he? Well I think it is correct. There is goodness in everyone, it is just a question of degree. It just seems easier to find the bad than the good, these days. Hmmmm ..... you think that it is up to me whether I recover?I think that you me too much credit in this case." He suddenly sighed in acceptance of what she had just said. "Indeed,sometimes it is not left up to us to decide our own fates. Very well.....I will be silent ...as you command."
Although he had agreed to be silent did not mean that Lancelot's mind had stopped working. Likewise, though he would have just rather that she would have let him die in peace did not mean that Lancelot did not consider the woman who was before him. He wondered exactly why she would go to all the trouble of saving his life, while he was in so much opposition to the idea. He could tell that she did not appreciate his constant questions, and that she reacted by just ignoring them for the most part. Finally, though, she did respond. She attempted to instruct him through analogy. "That is entirely different. You have no knowledge of my situation," he responded gruffly. "Everything has its time, and mine has likely come .... that is why," he quickly countered. He suddenly began to feel quite sleepy, as she continued to speak.
"Fight you ...... I simply resist anyone and anything that seem to want to re-direct my life from the path it seems fated to go. Why are you so determined that my life not end here. What gives you the right to intervene .....," she said as he drifted off. The last thing that he remembered was her telling him that she meant him no harm, as he went off into a restful sleep. He didn't remember anything until he awoke by the roaring fire,and heard her voice. "I feel alive ..... still,"not knowing if he should feel thankful or resigned to his fate.
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Post by Catalina Regalis on Jul 3, 2011 13:00:06 GMT -5
He smiles politely back at you, you stare politely right on through It was true, Catalina knew next to nothing about the young man she had come across other than he was a skilled fighter that had been wounded terribly and seemed to have a bleak outlook on life. Life often had it’s dark moments and it seemed that Lancelot was going through one of them but dark moments or not, how could he wish for his life to end? It didn’t make sense to her but that went along with the fact that she didn’t know him or his circumstances. Not that it would have made much of a difference to her if she had known either. Catalina would still have chosen to do what she did; it was just how she was really. A soft touch, a gentle soul, a hippe magician. He could fight it all he liked but at least he’d be alive to fight it. If that made sense…
While Catalina was convinced that a person decided their own path in life, she also believed that fate played a hand in many things. It surely was fate that Catalina had come across Lancelot when she had because if she had not, he surely would have bled to death and gotten his wish for death’s cold embrace. She had been guided to him, she didn’t know why and she didn’t bother to question it either. She went with the flow and did what she felt was right despite his arguing. She wasn’t scared of him in the least, she had her magic to protect her to a certain extent and also he was far too weak to really do much of anything aside for ask her to let him be and ask questions that she didn’t particularly care to answer when she was trying to concentrate on saving his life. "I have no worries, milady. Whether my life is taken or not is not up to me, but is reserved in the decisions of higher powers. I understand, though, that you are doing as much as is in your power to help me, and I appreciate it, even if I have my doubts as to whether you should waste your time over me."[/] Catalina simply nodded as he spoke, more intent on her task than his words for the time being.
“Hmmmm ..... you think that it is up to me whether I recover?” For someone who was as injured as he was, he really did talk a lot didn’t he? It was exasperating to say the least but she was patient and so she didn’t snap at him as her sister might have. Her sister had such a short temper with others, especially when they argued with her. Cat’s Uncle often told Catalina that she had her mother’s gentle temperament. It was a compliment if ever there was one. Cat wasn’t sure how to respond to his last comment so instead she said nothing, simply sighing in relief when he finally agreed to be silent. Finally…
Her analogy wasn’t taken well; she could see that by the look on his face and the gruff timbre to his voice as well. How frustrating though he did have a point. She didn’t know about his situation but as far as she was concerned, she didn’t need to know about it to do what she was doing. There was some question as to whether he would undue all her hard work later on after they parted ways, he certainly seemed like the sort that would do something foolish in his anguish though perhaps she was reading him wrong. She hoped so because she was using a lot of her energy in helping to heal him and it would be very disappointing if she was wasting her effort on a hopeless case. “There is no need to snap at me.” She said softly, not showing any sign that she was offended or even affected by his gruff tone and his lack of interest in living. “You’re right, everything has it’s time and I firmly believe that if you were meant to pass on then I would have never been meant to find you as you were.”
He was getting tired. Oh thank the Great Mother. He still fought it, fought her with words but he was fading fast and not in the bad way either. He needed his rest and maybe after some sleep he would be less cranky. She didn’t need his thanks, that wasn’t why she had done all this but a little kindness would be nice. “Why are you so determined that my life not end here. What gives you the right to intervene .....,"A fair question of course but it was one she didn’t have to answer for after the words were spoken he drifted off into much needed sleep. Still, she pondered the answer she would given when he awoke. What did give her the right to intervene in what may very well have been nature’s course? She didn’t know really. The feeling that his life was not meant to end there maybe. She wasn’t gifted with the power of a seer so she didn’t know what his destiny was but she was pretty sure it didn’t end in this forest.
Time had passed since Lancelot had first been injured, he had been asleep for a while and she had remained not too far from him, resigned to watch over her unwilling charge until she was sure he was strong enough to ride without falling off his horse. She took notice of him when he awoke and asked him how he was feeling. His answer was not a surprise really nor was the tone, still cranky. “I’m relieved to hear that.” Where did she go from here now? She hated awkward silences after all. “I understand if you do not wish to answer this but I wish to ask, why do you have so little regard for your own life?” It was a fair enough question considering how much he had fought her verbally earlier.
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Tags; Lancelot Word Count; 1009 Lyrics; 'How To Save A Life' The Fray Time-frame; Night - After 'Lancelot and Guinevère'
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