Knight Fall (closed)

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Claudia stood bare of foot with her toes curled over the edge of the cliff. The brilliant midday sun beat down overhead, not a cloud in that impossibly blue sky. The small plateau that sprawled out behind her was blanketed in vivid color, a field of white and yellow wild flowers, intermingled with lavender billowing in the breeze. The floral scent was heavenly and intoxicating, filling the warm, spring air with a most glorious perfume. Butterflies flitted about, sampling the pollen from each bud and bloom and moving on to the next. It was a lovely day.

A lovely day to die.

Claudia, a young woman scarcely beyond eighteen, was peering up at the blue sky, gathering the courage to do what she'd come here to do. Streams of moisture tell-tale of tears that had been streaming on and off throughout the morning glistened on those pale cheeks, her tongue darting out to moisten those full, pink lips. Long, dark hair was whipped about as wind gusted here and there, offering a cool reprieve from the hot sun overhead. Those eyes, blue as the sky above, were reddened and irritated, burning from hours of weeping.

What had driven this small, beautiful and slender woman to suicide? Well, what drives any foolhearty, naive young woman to kill herself? Love. In this case, a lack thereof. As most young women, she found herself faced with being trapped in marriage to a man she'd never met. Arranged marriaged were common, her family not the exception.

It was a poor farming family, she being the youngest of ten daughters, having seven brother as well. All her sisters had been married off, all the boys had been put to work on the farm. The father was abusive, often lashing out in his usual drunken state. The mother was as caring as she could afford to be, but in a hot temper was known to lash out with a cruel tongue. Claudia had a hard lot in life, and like most silly young women, she found death more appealing than sucking it up and coping.

Reaching her final resolve, she choked out a final sob, then fell forward.

Down, down, down she plunged, her eyes closed, her stomach filled with butterflies. Eventually, the collision did come, but there was no release. Only great pain. She had fallen on something much softer than rocks, that was for certain. It was warm and somewhat hard, covered in some form of cloth. Whatever the case, her leg had twisted sharply, and her ankle was certainly broken. Her body suffered whiplash of a nasty sort, and she whimpered in her pain. The thin white sleeping gown that she hadn't changed out of this morning tore over the knee, exposing a small portion of her shapely legs.

Opening her eyes, she peered around her in a daze. She saw a light color surrounded by red. Blinking, she rubbed her eyes and tried to focus.

Beneath her lay a dead man. She screamed.

When she'd fallen, she'd come down atop him as he was bent forward. He'd fallen sharply to one side, and had split his head open on a rock. But she didn't know that. All she knew was that she was supposed to be dead, but he was dead instead.

She was completely unaware that she was not alone.

 

[poohlive]

Tristan Howard Perceverant the third found himself searching through an old saddlebag for two pieces of jerky, that he had sworn were rounging about somewhere in the recesses, stuck in some dark corner just eager to do nothing more than enjoy the time spent being jerky.

If it is indeed a good time being jerky. Tristan did not think so, as salty as jerky is. If anything, it is a rather sullen lifetime, spent in a downward spiral of either depression or guilt.

His cracked fingers ran through bits of cloth and excess chains, a necklace from a neighboring kingdom, present that a lady fair had begged him to keep and bring back to him some day. He kept it, knowing full well he would, but hid it inside his bag fairly well to keep up an esteem towards others that he had done the honorable thing and thrown it deep within the lake, never to keep the fair maid's promise.

And what a promise it would be, as soon as he travelled back there.

A small grin plastered itself on the young knight's face. He had shaved only recently, and his straight full chin stuck out with stubble, worn and quite handsome. His short hair had been sweated through, loose brown curls sticking to the side of his face. A set of green eyes darted here and there, desperate searching for depressed meat inside of his knapsack.

His horse, Volio, snickered once, and brushed her tail in his direction.

"Quiet now. Just another minute. You can go on to eating grass soon as I find it. I know it was..."

And indeed, his hand did come across something brown and twisted. He pulled it out, two old thick pieces of deer jerky. Yes, that would be a fine addition to their lunch.

He stood back out. He wore a single cloth tunic, his armor had been taken off, lying neatly next to Fredric's with the horses. Fredric's mare, Passion, was busy ridding herself of flies and chewing on a particularly tasty piece of grass. Volio sneered, wanting to be doing the same thing.

"All right, go on now," He slapped her ass lightly, as she trotted over to the fair meadow to get nice and fat.

Which is exactly what Tristan had planned to do. Fredric had been waiting back near the cliffside, where they had been practicing most of the morning. They had just now stopped for lunch, and Tristan knew this jerky would make an excellent additon.

He walked back through the path, meandering amongst the trees here and there, bushes that had grown up, searching for sunlight. One such blocked him from the view ahead, and as he passed around it, what he saw his mind did not quite register.

Fredric lay on his side, and there was a woman on top of him, screaming. She looked in great pain, but her screaming was not for pain.

That scream brought out something deep and heroic in him. He had heard a fair lady's scream a hundred times, knowing to draw his sword. Even now, his expert fingers had dropped the pieces of meat to fall down to his sword at his side.

He saw no intruder though, no villian. There was no enemy, no rival. He saw no beggar, burglar, theif, cutthroat, naive, monster, miser, murderer, misfit or trickster.

How could this be?

There was blood though. It pooled from under both of them. He rushed over, his eyes searching for whatever dangerous dasterdly deviant who dared deviate this damsels delicateness.

No one though. Next to the cliff, he could see for a good distance. And the only two in the area were the girl and his friend.

"Fredric!" He called, kneeling down to get closer. It was then he saw Fredric's face, saw the huge split of his head, how it contorted, mischapen inside of his skull. Tristan paused, his fingers trembling as he shook his friend hard.

"Fredric..."

The man did not move. Blood poured out of the wound. He lay limp, forgotten, his body still warm. He was dead. Something had come down hard on his skull, something had taken him with a cowardly blow.

He would avenge his friend.

Turning, he looked up at the cliff, seeing if someone were up there. He could tower it, climb up to seek vengence. Knights had a code, an ancient pact. Fredric had been his friend since childhood, he swore the code, and he knew this Fredric's death would be avenged now.

"My lady," He shook her from her screaming, using one hand to yank her stare from the dead body she was still looking at. She had to look at him, had to see him.

She was a young maid, barely away from her mother. Old enough to marry though, still... too young and too pretty. Those rosy red cheeks, were they not smeared with blood and tears would be a knight's dream to find were he to search for her.

"Where is he? What happened?"

One hand holding her, keeping her from looking at the body, the other on his sword, eager to taste the blood of Fredric's killer. The sword's next victim would be that man who had taken Fredric's life.

"Where did the man go? Who killed this brave knight? Tell me... tell me so I may kill him!"

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Claudia lay screaming, her sharp mind quickly piecing together what had happened. In trying to take her own life, she had ended another's. The realization dawned on her, filling her with dread and sheer terror. Her soul was damned to hell for certain now, if it hadn't already been for attempting suicide. She trembled and convulsed in her terror, her broken ankle swelling and turning dark in color. She was absolutely hysterical.

Suddenly, she was shaken from her hysterics by another, forced to face him with blurred vision and a tear-streaked, blood-smeared face. Now someone else knew what she had done. She was doomed! Though she ceased her screaming, she took to bitter sobbing.

She was soon to find that he did not know, and that he was eager to avenge his friend. Throbbing with pain and sobbing, she struggled against him violently, fighting to pull away and free herself and failing miserably.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" she trembled, her voice shrill. "I was...I tried to kill me, not him! I leapt from the cliff! I...I...oh Gods!" she fell limp against him, paralyzed by her fear. "Please don't kill me! I beg you!" she sobbed, clinging to him, her face buried into his chest now. "I'm so sorry..."

For a woman who had just tried to end her life, she seemed rather concerned about being murdered.

 

[poohlive]

His face displayed some paralyzing numbness that he thought he could control, but as the story slipped out of her it simply stayed put. He stopped searching for some would be killed among the trees, quit scoping the skyline for fiends that would no doubt take him out next if they had only known about him sooner.

This girl had thrown herself on the rocks, and Fredric had saved her, albeit unwillingly, and now he lay dead while she was crying and screaming for forgiveness.

"We made a pact," He said, the apology on his lips, as he came closer to her. For a moment he had lowered his weapon, the sword dropping almost to the ground. Any good knight who knew his way around a pole arm would tell you that is an unheard of thing. One's sword did not touch the ground unless one were dead or dying.

Still, it picked up, the shiny glint of the razored edge coming towards her as he advanced.

He grabbed her, towering over her. On one knee, while the other leg was on the other side, straight out, so he had both height and dominance over her. He raised his sword back, wanting to aim it just at her throat.

"Fredric made a deal, one I had to keep. We knew our lives would be tough and filled with death and destruction. We solemly vowed as a knight's promise to avenge each other were death to an outcome. Some assasion or rival knight, a monster deep within the woods, an old witch that brewed poison..."

He let go of her nightgown to reach up and take out a necklace from under his tunic. It showed a single heart, with thorns running around it, and a sword slicing through it.

"The knight's oath," He was shouting now, a lot louder than he should. He could not help it, could not control himself. Part of him was just shaking now. He grabbed her by the nightgown once more, holding her down to the ground.

The sword came dangerously close, "You killed him..."

He tried to kill her, several times. He tried to push the sword through her throat, but every time he raged himself, gathering the energy, he just could not. Those teary eyes, those heartening pleas, her sad maiden face who cried so much for protection.

Still, he did not move, his sword inches from her body, poised to strike a killing blow that somewhere Tristan knew would never come.

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Claudia ceased her struggling and pleading, falling completely limp against him, weeping bitterly into his shoulder. The words of the knight seemed so very distant in her ears, yet so damnedably close. He was going to kill her.

The young woman began reasoning with herself in her grief and guilt. But I wanted to die. He shall only do what I failed to do myself. It is death that is now deserving of me, a murderer. I'm a murderer! Her sobbing was renewed as he released her to make some display of a pendant, his lack of support causing her to fall weakly to her knees. Claudia came down onto her hands as well as knees, her forehead resting on the loamy earth.

"I did not mean to! I deserve death...I deserve to die. Oh, that I had never been born!" she cried in anguish, falling to her side and curling into a fetal position. "I die in sorrow and regret. Guilt has slain me a thousand times already. Please...if you must kill me, do it quickly. Let there be no more pain!"

She lay quite pitifully on the ground, miserable and sorry for herself. The young woman had made a terrible mess of things. And truth be told, suicide had been the coward's way out. Not that she would admit this to herself.

 

[poohlive]

The sword shook now, the weight of it near impossible in his arms. He had picked it up a thousand times, in the heat of battle, after hours of practice, when his muscles tensed and sweat poured freely from his body. Dozens slain at this sword, dozens more to go, all of them begging for mercy just as she had done now, some killed for no worse than speaking of what she had done.

Even if by accident.

Yet, she cried. She curled into a ball and cried and begged for it. How could he do such a thing? How could he kill someone he had long since sworn to protect? She was weak and innocent, at least partly so. And a damsel in distress at that.

All be it, he was the one who put her in distress.

The sword fell at her side, clambering to the soft grass next to her, as the knight backed up, unable to do what he must. His friend's still warm blood on the ground screaming for vengeance, and all he could do was lower his head in shame.

He had lost what little honor he had, and if he killed this girl, he would have lost that as well.

"You will not die today," He said, his words hard to get out of his clenched tight jaw, hands curling into nothing more than fists at his side.

He turned back to his friend, kneeling over him, saying a silent prayer of forgiveness and acceptance. If nothing else, let the son of God hear this prayer, let something good be done from all the bad of today.

"His name was Sir Fredric. Fredric Percival Dopplangening the Fourth. Fredric the Frightening, slayer of dragons, hero to hundreds. He would help damsels in distress, give money to the poor, assist little old lady's in buying bread, made sure to pay all his taxes..."

He whistled, a long loud shrill that came from his mouth. As he did, something came trotting over the hill. His horse, who looked more than peeved she had been called for. Tristan would have liked to mouth his apologies, but he had no use for that.

He opened up the knapsack on the horses side, and dug through it, searching for an old trowel. It looked rusty and overused, but still good enough to do that job.

Mapping out the area, he saw a nice clearing of grass surrounded by bushed, only a few feet away from where the girl now lay, crying over her own mortality. He stopped down, grabbing at her hand. In it, he shoved the trowel.

"You killed him, and the knight's code clearly states a knight deserves proper burial. That means you owe him a funeral. I want a grave, deep enough so the animals can not dig him up and burrow into his carcass. Right over there."

He picked up his sword from her side, the momentary weakness of his own disappearing. He was a knight after all, a dashingly good knight with well intentions and a thick head of luscious hair.

Yes, that's who he was. And, Fredric had good qualities too, and he deserved at least, if nothing else, a funeral.

"Hurry up! We have not all day. We still must speak his eulogy, and then you have to find flowers for him. You have a lot of work to do, you can not simply kill a friend of mine and just sit there and cry about it.... get going!"

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Claudia wept, tears stinging her eyes and blinding her with their numbers. She waited for death to come, to strike her down and for the arms of hell to reach out and claim her. But it was not to be. Raising herself onto her arms, she peered at the man, those eyes red and swollen, cheeks flushed, gnawing on that bottom lip to suppress her sobbing.

Was he not going to kill her?

No. Instead, he stepped away, and informed her that today, she would not be finding death. He spoke a prayer for his friend, and told her what he had been called. Guilt devoured her, finding its home in her belly. She had murdered this good knight. He lay dead and gone from the world for her own cowardice and selfishness. Her sobbing was renewed.

As the shovel was passed into her hands, her eyes went wide a moment, tears still streaming. Claudia had always performed the tasks of women. Cooking and cleaning. Never had she done a man's work, and never had she held a shovel. But...who was she to argue? After what she had done, she dare not protest. Instead, she wiped her eyes, speaking quite hoarsely, "Yes, sir."

Obediantly, she took the shovel in hand and moved over to the indicated patch of earth, trying to figure out how deep was deep enough. She jammed the shovel into the earth with all her might, which proved to be not very deep at all. It had been a month since they'd had rain, and the ground proved rather unyielding. She leaned her weight on the handle, prying up the patch of earth, the grass and flower roots audibly tearing away in protest from the dirt. She repeated the process, her work mind-numbingly slow. She would work on the grave for an hour and all she had managed to do was pry up a lot of grass. She had plenty of length and width thus far, more than what would be needed. After all, she didn't want him to be contorted in his own grave.

Eventually her weeping did cease as she lost herself in the work. It was hard, and she broke into a sweat under the hot sun, that dark hair matting against her forehead and cheeks, which had flushed red from the heat. She grunted and groaned, the grave scarcely begun and her muscles already aching for it. But she did not complain, nor did she protest. She deserved this, repeated the mantra in her mind. It was well that it hurt. It was well that she grew exhausted. The suffering was her solace. It appeased the guilt.

 

[poohlive]

Tristan only watched her for a while. He sat on one of the nearby boulders, seeing as she continued to cry, digging for what she could into the earth. It was hard, dry, and refused to give her an inch, but she never gave up.

When it was apparent she would not try to run off the moment he left, Tristan got up in search for a headstone. Something heavy and symmetrical, something that Jesus would be proud of. On the cliffside were several larger boulders, but most of them were round. It took him the better part of the day to find one more or less rectangular.

He had to get both horses to haul it to the gravesite.

By then day had worn on until evening. The sun had lost whatever held it had over the earth, and decided to depart. It left them with a fading puple sky and a cool breeze rushing through the trees.

He touched the young maiden on the shoulder, bringing her back to the world with him. He saw her eyes go from fuzzy and gray to clear and sharp.

"That is enough, you did well."

He helped her out of the grave. It was a good grave, deep enough. Fredric would have been proud of it. He stood there a moment, with the headstone on one end and them both at the other.

Fredric had been laid out now, in his simple tunic, over a blanket. Tristan gave one final word of prayer, before folding the blanket over, picking the body up, and settling it into the earthen floor of the grave.

There, he sighed, looking at his friend the final time.

"Fredric knew I was a man of little words, but I loved. I loved him as a brother and a friend. Were I to die, there would be no better person waiting to meet me in whatever afterlife I await, then dear Fredric."

He took out a single necklace, with a golden cross on it. He laid it on the headstone, turning back to the young maid.

"Say something... to the man you killed, and then bury him. We have a while to go before night falls."

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Claudia continued working hard. By the time he returned late afternoon with the headstone, her entire body had gone numb. She could not feel her limbs, and the shovel seemed so very heavy! But she kept on. She was mindless in her work, utterly devoid of thought. The body had taken over and the brain had shut down.

She was startled as a hand set on her shoulder. Being a short woman, she'd shoveled and pried at earth until she now stood with her shoulders level to the ground. The earth was soft under that unyielding top layer, and it had been much easier after she'd broken through it. Fortunately, there was little clay to be broken apart.

He assisted her from the grave, hoisting the waif of a girl from the pit she'd dug, commending her on her work. Though he'd startled her into a more conscious frame of mind, she still seemed rather vacant in her visage. Her body was still numb as she dropped the shovel, and she found that her limbs were trembling. The thick white nightgown she wore was coated in dirt and sweat, matted against her slender body and looking quite worn. Her bare feet were thickly caked with mud, and dirt smudged her hands and cheeks.

She watched as the body was set in the grave pit, a few caring words spoken for him. When it was demanded that she speak as well, she acquired a rather pitiful, helpless expression, and gazed at the bloodied form of the knight below. Hands trembling, she wrang them and fell to her knees, tears stinging at her eyes once more.

"I...I'm so sorry. I beg that in the heavens you will speak kindly of me, and that your heart will find pity for me as demons rend my flesh in hell!" she broke into a choked sob, and began weeping and grieving once more.

After this she said nothing. What else could she say? She spent a long while in her grief, then at last, as the light began to vanish from the sky she wiped her eyes sorely, then sought out the shovel. Hands still trembling, she began shoving the earth back into the pit from whence it came, and burying the man she'd killed.

 

[poohlive]

By the time she was done, he had a nice fire going for the both of them. The wooded area gleamed from the odd light, dancing back and forth, as if ghosts were out tonight, playing with the fire themselves. Tristan thought no such thing, but perhaps maybe it was Fredric's way of saying goodbye.

Or asking, "Why have you not avenged me dear brother? Are you as weak and cowardly as you appear?"

He shook his head at that, trying not to let those thoughts run through him. The earth had become a mound now, and the headstone a good place for Fredric to remain.

He brought her over to the fire. She seemed more than pliant. Nothing like the young frightened girl who had been screaming earlier. She was almost manageable now. He sat her down so he could take a better look at her.

Bumps, bruises, and she cried out when he tried to turn her ankle. He had gauze and an herbal sauve ready, old remedies he had gotten from various villages, thanking him from a horde or monster or other certain doom those types of villages face every day.

He could do nothing for the ankle, only hope it was not broken. He let it lay straight and bundled it with two sticks. She could walk nowhere, and shouldn't even put weight on it for a day or two.

A wet washrag and some water. He wiped away the dirt and grime from her limbs. He washed her face too, it had seen too many tears this day. He even tried to clean her dress, but that task could not even be accomplished for a knight's task.

Maybe a good cleaning women with some soap.

He laughed at that, a soft sorrowful laugh that felt hollow.

"Fredric would have liked you," He said, wiping down her legs. The wet washcloth running up to her thigh. The dress had split, must have done so in the fall. The say she sat, had it been mid day he probably could have seen too much for a lonely knight to be seeing.

He tried not to focus on that, only his work. He was a goodly knight after all. And goodly knights did not stare.

They only peeked from time to time.

"He had a thing for girls. Especially young maidens in fair trouble. He would scrounge the land for a damsel in distress. It was his speciality, you know. Women would see him come into the village, and put themselves in danger just for his rescue, and his kiss. He gave those out all too well."

He stopped, the cold washrag against her cooled thigh. He could not clean any higher and still call himself a knight... if even he did have the title after letting her live.

He handed it to her, if she wanted to wash anything he missed.

"He was a good friend... a really good friend. I will miss him."

He sighed once, fondly looking over his shoulder at the gravesite, before getting up and dusting himself off.

"Well, I think there is still some bits of jerky around here somewhere. Some roasted potato too. You and I are going to have a nice meal, why you tell me just why was it you were trying to kill yourself in such a fashion... and what in bloody hell I should do with you now?"

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Claudia's body was pleasantly numb from her work, and the pain of her ankle not excluded. It was, however, terribly swollen and discolored. The moment he set his hands upon it to turn her leg to one side to examine it, she whimpered, and jerked it away in reflex. Wincing, she eased it back to the ground, finding the thing now throbbing. Why in the world did he have to turn it? It'd been feeling fine before that...sort of. Rather, not feeling at all.

She allowed herself to be washed and her leg splinted by the knight, her eyes clouding and her visage appearing distant as she lost herself in thought. It was not until he spoke at last that she would focus on him once more, still seeming rather grief-stricken, though not weeping now.

In hearing of him, she found his death horribly ironic.

Just as the knight began to wash high enough as to invade her comfort zone, he pulled away. Sighing, she peered to him somewhat eagerly at the mention of food. The eagerness dissipated when he asked his questions.

"I...it's not a good enough reason. Not good enough to justify..." she trailed off, bitting her bottom lip, then continued. "...well, my parents arranged for me to marry a man. He's old, and has had three wives already! He is kind, but he smells of cabbage and is hard of hearing. I..I couldn't marry him. I should die of unhappiness!" she cried, her eyes teary yet again. "You don't have to do anything with me. I'm going to run away. And if it doesn't work, then I'll try to kill myself again!"

 

[poohlive]

Her whining cry and those weak words made him want to pick up his sword again. Itchy fingers traced along the leathered hilt, wishing upon wishes to be done with it. He could save at least some face in front of this.

But, apart from anything else, he just could not do it now. Had he done it before, in the heat of the moment, it might be all right. But, not here and now, with his wits about him once more. He was, after all, a heroic and dashing night.

"My friend had to die this day, saving your life because you did not want to marry a man who smelled of cabbage..."

Knights died in battle, saving villages from fires and robbers and monsters deep within the forest. They pit their skills with others, in high regard, fighting bloodily for hours to determine a winner.

And she could not even stand the smell of cabbage. She had to die, other than to smell it.

He wished he had some cabbage right now, just so he could run it under her nose, some nive revenge for his friend's death. He smiled at that, as he handed her a plate of food. Roasted potatoes, some jerky, and a few roots dug up in the past day or so.

"That leg is going to take a week to heal, if not more. You're not running anywhere. Not that I would let you. I'm still unsure what to do with you. I know I'm not going to let you just kill yourself. Quite out of the question. Fredric, whether he was a willing participant or not, saved your life. Which means, it is a life worth saving. And, I must do my part to make sure you stay alive and quite well."

Still, he did not know what to do with her. He couldn't just keep her here, tending to the grave site of his young friend. He couldn't take her with him. He was off on more quests and knight's errands, fighting and saving the day.

What would Fredric have wanted?

"Fredric saved you. He wanted you to live. You killed yourself because you didn't want to be in some marriage with someone who smelled of cabbage and was far too old."

Lots of marriage were like that. People smelled like all sorts of things, and marriages were more likely than not arranged not from love, like all goodly knights wished they were, but out of necessity. Or, rather, the parents and their own dealings.

His mind was made up.

"You're supposed to live. Which means, you are to get married. First thing in the morning I'm taking you back to your village, we will sit you down with your parents, and I'll see to it myself this you pledge vows to this cabbage man. Then you will live with him and make him many children and do whatever he says. Yes, I think that will be punishment enough for killing my friend. A lifelong servitude to someone with a vegetable aroma."

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Claudia ground her teeth, her resolve firm, blinking tears from her eyes. "I would kill myself on my wedding night. You can't watch me forever. Guilt will forever consume me for what I've done...but I will not go with you. I will fight you, if I must!" she cried in a shrill tone, scooting away from him, the food ignored. She was hungry, but his man sought to help trap her! "If you take me back, then the good knight that inadvertantly saved my life will actually not have saved my life, but ruined it instead! I..."

Claudia fell silent. "I...suppose it's precisely what I deserve. But I won't go willingly. I won't. I will fight you. I will not be able to overcome you, but I will fight you!" she cried once more, scrambling to her feet, favoring that ankle. Peering down at him, her lip trembled. "You cannot take me back!"

 

[poohlive]

"I can not?" He said, with a bit of a laugh as she stood up. His eyes ran down her lithe figure, the night dress which must have looked so beautiful the night before now nearly ruined on her. It was dirty, sweaty, and ripped in too many places. Even as she stood he could see she showed him too much leg, and the heave of her bosom.

Were he not a knight of good standing order this might become a complicated situation.

"You wish to fight me? Look at you, you can barely stand? What can you do, good maiden? Bite me? Scratch at me until you grow tired? Sit back down, please, before you hurt yourself further."

He had not moved from his own spot, rather sat there with his plate of food, eating well. He stared deep into the fire. It danced inside of his eyes, a low deep flicker that revealed too much, and yet not enough.

"You robbed me of something today. Two things, actually. You robbed me of my friend, and you robbed me of a promise. I swore to him I would avenge his killer. I swore to a brother of blood that I would make sure his death would not be in vain. He made the same to me. Willing to risk our lives because of that bond. If I have to spend the rest of my days watching your every move to make sure you do not find another cliff, it will be a life well spent..."

He ripped a piece of jerky off, chewing it lazily in his mouth.

"Now, sit and eat. Last thing I need is you going home undernurished."

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Claudia ground her teeth, determined. It was enfuriating not to be taken seriously. And why? Because she was just some silly, injured woman. He was right, though, damn him! She was unarmed. Nothing to fight with but tooth and nail, and nowhere to run or hide with that broken ankle. Pain throbbing through her leg, she sank back down, eyes wide. She was frantic, desperate. What could she do?!

Then, suddenly, it dawned on her. Of course! It was perfect! Shifting those blues eyes shifted to him in worry. But would he, a good knight, comply with it? Would he see through her ploy? It was worth trying. Her soul was damned anyhow.

Slyly, she feigned a throb of pain in her ankle, shifting it to one side. The slit up her gown shifted as well, exposing more of her creamy thighs. Wincing, she sighed, peering down at the meal, her appetite lost.

"Then will you kiss me? Have pity, sir. Show me one passionate kiss before you send me into a living nightmare..."

 

[poohlive]

"A kiss?" He furrowed his brow, looking across the fire at her. He had thought she would have said a lot of things over there, probably some that made reference to his character and whether or not his mother had been a warthog. Maybe even harsh words of Fredric or some other goading to get him to raise his sword.

He even thought for a moment she might indeed try to run away. Hobble away at least. Let him spend most of the night trying to find her.

But a kiss?

He had been thrown completely off guard.

Because, knights loved kisses.

That is why they saved damsels in distress. Everyone knew that in saving a damsel there was a price of one good passionate kiss. It came standard, any contract of life saving with a damsel comes complete with a kiss clause.

That is why Fredric loved saving them so much.

He had not saved this girl though. He could not kiss her.

Then again, he was subjecting her to a lifetime without passion or romance. This might be her last chance. She would no longer be a maiden fair come tomorrow, she would be a wife.

He found that in his thinking his eyes had ran down to there her thighs crossed. The dress, coming up, not covering much of anything. Light from the fire ebbed and flowed up her creamy legs, letting him think he saw even more than he should.

Oh, to be a knight in this day and age.

"You are a maiden," He said, nodding, and she was asking for a favor from a knight. He could not refuse her, not for any reason.

He got up, dusting himself off. It took a moment for him to compulse himself, trying to let his eyes rest somewhere a little less revealing. Nothing on her. She could not be seen anymore. Every time he looked somewhere different he found something he shouldn't see.

Her soft pale skin, her revealing thighs, her heaving bosom, her pouty lips, slender neck...

He walked over to her, kneeling down.

"One kiss," he said, softly, his hand coming to the back of her head, guiding her towards him slowly. His eyes closed, pressing his lips upon hers. That moment, of pure electricity, that first delicious kiss with someone knew. He sucked upon her lips, they tastes of sweat and dirt, but still they were delicious. Her warmth ran through him, his fingers playing along the sides of her neck.

The soft overgrowth of his beard, tickling her just so.

He pulled away, slowly, reluctantly, trying to catch his breath. OVer before it even had a chance to begin.

"There," He said, noticing as he looked down just how high her dress had ridden up, "One passion filled kiss for a maiden fair."

Oh goodness. He would have to go through Fredric's things, find a well worn tunic, something that would not let her be half naked around him anymore. He could not help himself.

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Claudia cursed how dirty she was. Sweat had left her skin salty, but at least she did not smell poorly. It had been a clean sweat, leaving her reaking of her own, musky scent and of the loamy earth. Still, she wished she could bathe properly before attempting this! How desperate she was, that she would try anything to be free. She would rather seem wild and wanton than be dragged into that cruel fate.

But at last, he did agree. She felt like crying out in her triumph! It was well known that no knight could refuse a kiss from a maiden. Her only fear had been in that he would not think of her as a maiden, but rather as a foolish, suicidal murderer.

But what folly! She'd never kissed anyone before. She'd never done anything other than look at a man before! So she allowed him to lead. She would lean close, guided by his hand. Her full lips would be soft and pliant upon his, the stubble on his chin tickling her own chin pleasantly. When he pulled away, it was far too soon. Her breathing was heavier now, her breasts heaving with the rise of her chest, her heart racing.

She was almost disheartened until she caught the line of his gaze, the good knight peering down into the tear in her nightgown. Again, her heart raced. Was she doing the right thing? Likely not. But she...she had to.

"You are so noble to have given me such a gift. I shall treasure that kiss in my miserable life." She sighed, seemingly resigned to her fate. She turned, as if to examine the grave a ways behind her, the slit in the gown now shifting even higher to expose her navel, the creases of her thighs, and the dark tuft of hair between those long, slender legs. As she seemed to be fixed on the gave, she seemed not to notice this terrible exposure.

 

[poohlive]

He heard her, his ears had picked up the words she had said, so close to him. But what those words were, their meaning beyond anything but noise coming through to him was lost. He had been staring down now, the gown, which had flirted with her high thigh the entire day, now seemed to give out, and her turn caused him to see much much more than any man aside from her cabbage loving husband to see.

He never looked away though, he stared down upon that small tuft of hair. The way her legs were closed together made it seem like nothing more than a slit between her legs. He could see it, imagine it, touch it with his mind's eye.

And then he had to break away, he just had to. No self respecting knight could honestly call himself loyal while he was peeping lewdly at the girl who only wished his help.

"I need to get you something," He turned, refusing to look at her, anywhere in her direction. She had become a sinister wanton lustful combination of images. He could not longer trust himself with her in her present state.

When he looked at her he simply saw those lips, those breasts, thighs squeezing together, small furry, delicious...

No, no no.

He went over to the horses, tied up just a few feet away from the fire. In Fredric's pack he found an extra tunic, made of a good sturdy wool, that would come down to her knees.

He didn't look at her, only caught her from the corner of his eye to walk up to her. Oh, she didn't even know what evil temptating lust she stirred within him?

"Here, you're... ummm, you're gown has become no longer useful for hiding yourself. You need to put this one."

He held out his arm, stretching it as far as possible, so he did not need to get close to her.

"Please... I would hate for someone to come along and see you in such a state. They might think my duties here with you alone in the forest were less than honorable."

Were they?

He shook his head, knowing he would need to jump in a cool stream after all of this.

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

When she turned to face him again, that gown fell back over what had been exposed. Thus, when she looked down, she could see nothing but her mid thighs. Still, that was enough. A modest girl would not refuse the tunic.

But modest was precisely what she could not afford to be. She was distraught over the production of this new garment. She was trying the best she knew how without being direct. If she made a deliberate attempt, she expected he would think poorly of her, and leave off from touching her entirely.

Think, Claudia!

...the ankle!

Claudia attempted to raise herself up a alittle to pull the gown out from underneath her to remove it, but cried out, overexaggerating the pain in her ankle. Hands trembling, she gestured to the swollen extremity.

"I...I can't. My ankle is broken! Oh, good knight...I trust you. You will not harm me. Will you not help me change clothes?"

 

[poohlive]

She trusted him? She trusted him? Well, of course, but could he trust himself? Oh, no, he could not. To see a glimpse was enough to drive him wild. If he got to see her, all of her, naked in the moonlight?

How could such temptation occur? He just wanted to send her back home. He glared at Fredric's grave, somehow this was his friend's fault. Laughing from beyond simply because Tristan himself could not go through with their promise.

He sighed, before turning to look at her.

"Ok. I am a gentleman, who would never compromise such a tempting situation that we've gotten ourselves into. We'll just do this, simple and easy."

He set the tunic down on a nearby rock, easy grasp for them to get, as he helped her to her feet. He tried his best not to look at her, but he simply could not. His eyes were devilish with lust and greed, stealing glances at the thigh exposed and her chest heaving up and down.

Taking her hands in his own, he let her balance, as his own rough hands went down to the dress. He pushed it up, away from her skin. He had to bend down, unable to do anything but look as it ran up her body. It exposed her soft bush of hair once more, fine and almost neat in a V between her legs. He stopped at that, trembling, almost unsure why he was lifting this girl's dress up.

Then, he shook himself, gathering up the inner strength and pushing the nightgown even higher. Her breasts fell out next. They were heavy, perfectly round, with pert brown nipples that seemed to harden at his sight of them. He bit his lower lip, calling upon sweet baby Jesus to help get him through his lustful act.

Then, over her arms, her head, and it was over... She stood before him, her hand son him, so close, naked. He held her, his arms over her shoulders, threatening to explore her body, wanting to touch what he had just seen.

Knight's code... cold stream.

He was shaking, soft cool fingers upon her skin.

"Now..." He said, his voice unsteady," The tunic. If you would just put it on."

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

"Ok. I am a gentleman, who would never compromise such a tempting situation that we've gotten ourselves into. We'll just do this, simple and easy."

Who was he trying to convince? Not her, certainly.

Inward, she was giddy. It was working. This was all working. Yet...at the same time she felt guilt. She ought have been ashamed of herself! It was wrong what she was doing to this good knight. And in a way, it was reminiscent of Adam and Eve. He, the poor Adam eager and ignorant, and she Eve, dangling that luscious apple in front of his eyes, urging him to take it.

Yet, she could feel moisture between her legs, her body responding to his proximity, his sweet musky scent that was entirely masculine.

She was bared before him agonizingly slowly, that garment creeping up her body, the chilled evening air kissing goosebumps into her pale skin. Her womanhood felt so hot and aching that the cool air sent a shiver down her spine when it was exposed to it. Then her breasts were bared, nipples crinkling to taut buds.

Her mind went numb a moment as she stood nude before that wanton gaze.

Tunic? What's a tunic?

Shifting back slightly, her senses slowly returning, she cried out. She'd put weight on her ankle, and he gave way beneath her. She caught her arms around his neck, hoisting herself back onto her other foot. Slowly, her gaze traveled up his chest and into his eyes, feeling like a doe caught in headlights. She was way out of her league. What did a virgin know of seduction?

Without even thinking, she leaned forward and touched her lips to his once more.

 

[poohlive]

He had to catch her. It was instinct more than anything else. How he wished he hadn't. He wanted to just let her fall, hurt her ankle more, or crawl around in the dirty ground, getting her tunic on by herself.

Instead, his arms wrapped around her waist, one touching the soft curve of her ass while the other pressed against the small of her back, making her push into him. Close, dangerously close.

And she looked at him. Why must she look at him? Why couldn't she be some silly young maiden of a girl who giggled and blushed and always looked away, running every time they felt strange stirring within them.

But she kissed him, and the fooling tempting horrible excuse for a knight that he was, he let her. No, he didn't just let her. He kissed her back. He kissed her hard, harder than the first time, bringing her up to him. His strong hands on her back, gripping her ass, lifting her up to meet him.

And his kiss, his tongue licking along her lips, playing, tempting. Curious about her taste. She tasted so well, even with the dirt, especially with the dirt. It was a kiss he had long since heard of, listened to stories about, but never experience for himself.

Even the most thankful of maidens didn't show such audacity.

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Claudia's breasts heaved, nipples hardening fiercely as they were pressed hard against his chest, caught up in a strong embrace. She had not even been thinking as she kissed him, and his sudden enthusiasm elicited a gasp from her. The gasp gave him the entrance into her mouth that his soft, prying tongue had been seeking. Claudia felt a tingle shoot down through her body, and she was quick to close the gap. She was unsure at first. Never before had she been kissed, let alone with an open mouth. That soft, shy tongue met his, her own mouth having a much sweeter flavor than dirt and sweat. The knight's mouth was hot and his flavor musky and masculine. It urged parts of herself to life she knew not were even there.

The kiss lingered on a long while, the pair exploring each other's mouths curiously and with lustful passion. Claudia found her body aching as her heart raced, her small hands trembling upon his chest.

Her motive was no longer merely to free herself. Now she wanted to explore this handsome man, curious about her own aching, curious of what lie under that tunic and those trousers...

 

[poohlive]

Somehow she found her feet, and he felt her standing. He didn't need his hands to hold her up anymore. They were free to explore, and they did. He forgot why he had held her, why he was so caught up in wanting to be good and courteous of the situation.

One hand rand down the fine curve of her ass, grabbing it, squeezing it, bringing her closer to him. He felt her press into him, letting her feel something he had not felt himself until just this moment.

His cock, straining against his own tunic. It had grown hard since he'd seen her, stayed steady the moment he had to take off her night gown. Now, it was throbbing with a need, and as she pressed against him, it was caught between his own thigh and hers.

Throbbing, happy to be stuck between them, wanting more, needing more.

And that's when he felt it. This urge to lay her down, to spread her legs open. He wanted to see what was between her legs, under that hair. He wanted to see her just like that, lying down for him.

And that snapped him out of it. He stopped, breaking their kiss. A soft cry escpaping as he did, as if it pained him to leave such pleasent lips.

"No... no," He said, weak, fighting this rush of lust and temptation running through him, "No... I can't. I am sorry, you trusted me and I just want to tak advantage of you. I am so sorry, maiden...."

He brought himself the courage to stop, but he couldn't find anything, anywhere inside of him to let go of her, to push her away. He simply stood there, his hands where they lay around her, his cock still throbbing, angry now.

 

[Mimsy_Borogove]

Claudia's eyes closed as she was drawn harder against him, his firm hand pressing eagerly against her backside and holding her against him. She felt his stiff member now, digging menacingly into her thigh, pulsing with heat even through his clothing. She grew well-moistened between her thighs, her body writhing against his, thigh grinding enticingly against his erection.

And then he broke the kiss.

Claudia's eyes shot open, an injured look about them. What had she done wrong? Was she undesirable? Or perhaps she was doing it wrong? She breathed heavily against him, searching his eyes for explanation.

He'd gone and gotten noble on her!

It wasn't fair. That kiss, the member that still pressed against her thigh...it all promised great things to come. Delights to be had. And he was trying to take it away from her!

She shivered, her mouth agape. "No...please...please, don't stop..." she pleaded. Her goal? It was completely lost, lust filling those pretty eyes. All she knew was that aching that filled her, left her empty and not knowing what to fill the void with.

One arm was braced against his shoulder, using it to raise herself to kiss along his jaw, her other hand smoothing down his chest and over that bugle where she knew his manhood to be. Her palm smoothed over it, petting it encouragingly.