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Disclaimer-
While this is primarily a story of forbidden love there is a lot of battle violence as well.
Some Other Northern Britain Some Other Time
Year of the Boar, Month of the Falcon, Day 8
Luthien fell forward, staggering, one knee in the trodden, battle-rent mud. His slim, strong fingers gripped his longsword, white knuckled, blade down in the dark earth.
He was surrounded by the cloven bodies of Pictish warriors, the battlefield stretched across hundreds of yards of tangled heather and misty moor.
Here and there lay the still, bloodied forms of knights and squires in blood soaked silvery armor.
Even Sir Agravain, one of Arthur's own henchmen lay dead, cloven from shoulder to chest in the heather.
The ruin was indescribable.
Arthur Pendragon's will was to be enforced, even upon the intractable Picts.
Luthien stood, weaving drunkenly for a moment and then steadying himself. His glittering silver armor was smeared with mud and blood, and his long, fine blonde hair was matted crimson. He'd slain and slain until his arms ached this day.
He heard the clopping of a horse's hooves in the mud, and a jingle of equine accoutrements. He turned.
It was Sir Tristan of course. It had to be. The insufferable bastard. The manliest man in court. A rapist of women and murderer of men. Luthien loathed him.
Of all the things in life that gave Tristan pleasure, tormenting Luthien was near the top of his list.
Tristan's resplendent blue steel armor seemed to almost glow in the dull sunlight. The spiked iron balls of his legendary morningstar hung down from where the handle was slung, over his right forearm. His herald, riding behind him, carried his banner, the hanged man, crimson over black.
He was a brutish thug masquerading as a noble knight.
"So you've survived Squire Frog" Tristan smiled, the scars on his face made it a rictus.
"Yes Milord, I've slain many of the King's enemies this day." Luthien kept his face perfectly composed. Tristan never missed an opportunity to needle him for being French.
Lancelot, Arthur's War Master, was French as well. Tristan would never have the balls to speak in a condescending tone to him.
Luthien held his anger deep inside.
"Well I suppose even the French can learn how to swing a sword, given enough time." Tristan turned his war horse in a tight caricole.
"Well, I'm off to court, many ladies wait for my affections. Attend to your duties, Froggy Squire, good day."
Mud Splattered Luthien's armor as Tristan rode away.
"Yes, you bastard, and one waits for me as well." Luthien whispered, through fine, gritted teeth.
Year of the Boar, Month of the Falcon, Day 8, Nightfall
Luthien's quarters were in one of Camelot's lower halls, well away from the legendary Round Table. As an Advanced Squire Luthien was one of Arthur Pendragon's shock troops. The first to engage on the field of battle. The tip of the spear.
Luthien was always clearly visible to all in his brightly sliver-washed armor. It fit his slim form like a glove. Some said he was too small, too slim to be a Knight, an effective killer.
But he'd proven himself beyond doubt on a score of filthy battlefields. All for the glory of a man who'd never even spoken to him.
Luthien pulled off his armor a piece at a time. He was small and slight at 5'8". But he was incredibly strong and agile. And he was absolutely deadly with his longsword Durandal. It had been in his family for generations. Since childhood he'd dreamed of becoming a Knight. Something he could never be in France.
Luthien's finely chiseled face and delicate features had been described by some as angelic, his long blonde hair was soft and downy fine.
Luthien was determined to become a Knight. He believed in Chivalry and Honor, even if some of his supposed betters didn't.
He also believed in Romance. Ygraine had made him believe. She was one of the high ladies of Court, far above his station and far, far out of reach for other reasons he knew so well.
And yet.
Her beauty was intoxicating, her long fire red tresses and clear green eyes bewitching. Her sinuous curves made Luthien's blood boil.
But he knew better. Knew they could never be together.
Because when Luthien finished removing his armor in the silence of his room it became very apparent.
Luthien was not a man at all, she was very much a woman. And she'd come to England to carve out a place in this world, masquerading as a man.
Year of the Boar, Month of the Falcon, Day 9, Midnight
Luthien, clad in leather breeches and a clean white linen shirt ascended the stairs in one of Camelot's outermost towers, higher and higher she climbed into the dizzying heights where the stairs were dusty and cobwebbed.
As she crossed past an alcove a soft voice called out. "To whence are you rushing with such haste young Squire?"
Luthien stopped and turned, peering into the shadowed alcove.
"To find my love, a maiden most fair." She deliberately pitched her voice low and rough as she'd learned to do, imitating male vocal cords. Ygraine stepped out into the torchlight, stunning, breathtaking.
Luthien stepped forward and took her into her arms.
Ygraine's skin was pale and without flaw. Her eyes clear and sea foam green. Her long red tresses were like serpentine fire over the green satin of her dress. And fire is the fate that would await the young lovers, were they ever caught
Luthien pushed Ygraine back, gently into the wall, her long, slim fingers so used to weaving a longsword with deadly skill instead gently cupped the back of Ygraine's head. Her fingers slid through silky soft crimson strands.
Luthien crushed her mouth to Ygraine's, the young lovers kissed passionately.
Luthien led Ygraine by the hand to their secret room, an unused space in the tower Luthien had painstakingly converted to a bedchamber.
Luthien pushed open the heavy door and began to passionately kiss her one true love again. Ygraine, the one dearest to her youthful heart. The one she loved like no other.
The wife of her most hated rival, Sir Tristan.
Ygraine stepped back toward the bed, lithe as a cat, and pulled her green satin dress off, over her head. Luthien strode towards her, but Ygraine stopped her lover with a single finger laid over Luthein's soft lips.
She pulled the straps of her cotton shift down over her soft, white shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Revealing her nudity to Luthien who sucked in her breath deeply. Putting her hands around Ygraine's slim waist, Luthien pulled her into an embrace.
Her long fingers trailed down Ygraine's soft, smooth back, giving her chills. She tangled one hand into her locks, and used the other to cup Ygraine's smoothly muscled ass.
The two women kissed, with gentleness, passion, and love.
Ygraine fell, tumbling backwards onto the bed, pulling her lover down with her.
Ygraine wrapped one of her smooth legs around Luthien as Luthien pulled off her shirt and reached behind her self, frantically tugging at the strings of the leather corset that kept her small breasts restrained.
Ygraine grabbed the garment with her hands, helping to pull it free.
Luthien tossed the garment carelessly aside as she smothered Ygraine's face and neck in kisses. Ygraine moaned and squirmed under her. She ground the heat of her sex against Luthien's leather-clad thigh.
Luthien rubbed her hands over Ygraine's soft breasts, she kissed across them, Ygraine moaned sweetly aloud when Luthien took her nipple into her mouth.
Luthien's hand slid down the softness of Ygraine's abdomen, through the thatch of fire-red hair over her sex and into the soaking wetness of her desire.
Ygraine cried aloud as Luthien's finger entered her, and her thumb rubbed over her clit. "Oh Gods!"
The young lovers stared deeply into each other's eyes, Ygraine's ice blue orbs into the lovely emerald eyes of Ygraine. "Come for me, my love, I want to feel it" Lutheirn sweetly whispered.
"Oh my darling, I will, I AM!!"
Ygraine's joyous moans and cries echoed off the small, stone chamber's walls.
Luthien gently kissed her way further down Ygraine's body. Not stopping until she reached the sweet wetness between her legs.
Ygraine shivered in joy and delight as Luthien's practiced tongue began rubbing against the most sensitive parts of her body.
Luthien was in love, and in a state of delirious joy, her mouth full of her lover's sweet taste.
The two young lovers enjoyed each other late into the night.
Year of the Boar, Month of the Falcon, day 11
Today was decreed a day of feasting and jousts for Arthur's victory over the Picts. The Knights were jousting each other and the Squires were to battle in duels of martial skill.
Luthien, clad again in her stunning silver-washed armor, had advanced steadily all competition all morning. Now, she was to face Tristan's squire Lanseth, a massive Saxon, just as much a surly behemoth as Tristan was.
Luthien looked forward to humbling him.
The two opponents squared off inside a ring, the edge dug into the ground and marked with crushed white rock. ""Ho, Frog Squire, my Knight bids me to wound you today." His massive axe twirled a figure eight.
Luthien drew Durandal, and stepped forward.
With a bellowing roar Lanseth strode across the circle at Luthien, who leapt, spinning, out of harm's way with a mocking laugh.
Durandal stabbed out and up, slicing a sparking gap in Lanseth's dull, black gorget, but missed his neck.
The opponent circled each other. Luthien's armor glittered in the late Spring sun.
Lanseth's axe swept a huge arc at waist level. Luthien nimbly ducked under and rolled. Leaping up, she stabbed at Lanseth, Durandal drove into his armor low near the waist. Luthien spilled the bloodied sword back.
According to the rules of the tourney the duel could stop now. But Lanseth, enraged drove forward for a killing blow. His axe cut a massive arc downward.
But Luthien was no longer there. She'd dodged away, leaping and spinning in mid-air. She landed and stabbed Durandal forwards.
Directly through Landseth's heart.
The massive Saxon dropped like a stone.
Luthein bowed low, sweeping Durandal out to the side.
"FRENCH BASTARD!" Tristan's voice boomed out from the wooden seating where the Knights were ensconced, watching.
He leaped down from the stands, grabbing his Morningstar from Lanseth's kit.
"HOLD!" A voice bellowed out.
Everyone froze.
Lancelot, resplendent in his gold and silver armor stood.
"The blow was fairly struck Tristan, your Squire pressed the issue."
Tristan stopped, and looked back. Then shot a baleful glare at Luthien. He turned and spat. "Your day will come Frog"
Ygraine looked on from the sidelines, twisting her hands in worry.
Year of the Boar, Month of the Falcon, Day 11, Sunset
Camelot's main hall was full of Knights, feasting at Arthur's tables. Luthien, as a Squire was seated at one of the lower tables, she couldn't take her eyes off Tristan and Ygraine, and she was worried. The man was drinking himself into a frenzy, and was in a blind rage. Ygraine was frightened, shaking like a leaf, Luthien could tell even from this great distance.
As the evening had worn on, Tristan had only become angrier. Luthien had stopped eating and drinking, her long, slim yet powerful fingers held a goblet in a white-knuckled grip.
The breaking point came soon enough. Ygraine spilled Tristan's cup across him in her nervous fumbling.
"BITCH!" Tristan backhanded her to the floor
"Luthien leapt up from her seat, sprang over the table and stalked forward
"I'll kill you where you stand, you damned Boor!" She roared, her voice cracking.
In an instant, deadly silence reigned in Camelot's hall.
"You DARE!" Tristan spat, rising.
"YOU'RE GODDAMNED RIGHT I DO!" Luthien bellowed.
Ygraine ran to Luthien's side Her voice trembled as she grabbed at Luthien's arm "Luthien please..." Her voice was small and quiet, lost in the sudden uproar.
Tristan pushed the table in front of him over with a resounding crash and began to step forward as his eyes widened, looking from Ygraine to Luthien is sudden, drunken, surmise.
"You goddamn French Bastard!" Tristan ground out.
Luthien, pushed Ygraine behind her lithe form and drew Durandal with a ringing chime that echoed from the stone walls.
"STOP NOW!" The voice of Arthur himself bellowed out into the hall. He nodded at Lancelot
Arthur's Master of Soldiers stood. "Both of you stay your weapons, Tristan, that was an uncharitable and unchivalrous act at best. However" He looked at Luthien, "Squires are generally not allowed to threaten Knights."
"Luthien, do you wish to press a formal claim, for Ygraine's honor as the offended party?" Lancelot spoke.
"Please Luthien, don't, apologize, Tristan will kill you" Ygraine begged.
"My wife's concern for your life is touching, Bastard Frog. Go on then, show your craven steak and drop to your knees, where you belong." Tristan's voice dripped with scorn.
Lancelot winced.
"PLEASE, Luthien!" Ygraine tugged at her arm.
"I'll cut your guts out, Tristan. Come and die like the pig you are." Luthien's voice was cold as the wind off a northern glacier.
Tristan strode forward with a bellow
"I SAID HOLD!!!" Arthur roared.
Lancelot looked back at Arthur. "It seems we must hold a duel" he spoke.
Luthien and Tristan glared at each other, across the small, deadly space.
Year of the Boar, Month of the Falcon, Day 11, Midnight
Ygaine was inconsolable. She'd slipped away from Tristan after he'd passed out, blind drunk, and had climbed high into the tower, where she found Luthien, seething. She now wept bitterly in her lover's arms.
"Oh why Luthien, why?" Ygraine sobbed. "You must apologize, I can't bear to lose you."
"And I can't bear to watch that coarse bastard abuse you another day Ygraine, not another day. I will kill him, and we can be together."
Ygraine pulled her warm, soft body more tightly to Luthien. The collar of Luthien's nightshirt was damp, soaked with the young Celtic woman's tears. She sobbed bitterly.
Luthien took her strong but delicate hands and held Ygraine's face. Her sharp sapphire eyes stared deep into the bottomless emerald pools of Ygraine's eyes. "I won't leave you my love, my heart's true desire." She spoke earnestly, from the depths of her young soul. "I love you and I will spend my life by your side Ygraine, no matter what it takes. If I had to slay one thousand men like Tristan to be worthy of your love, I would." Her voice pitched low. "And if I had to die to save you I would Ygraine. My heart is yours."
"Oh dearest Luthien" Ygraine voice was soft. Luthien's hands ran back, through her luxuriant fire-red locks. She pulled Ygraine into a deeply passionate kiss. The two young lovers embraced each other tightly, Ygraine's warm, supple body felt like paradise in Luthien's hands.
Ygraine broke the kiss, and stood, biting her lower lip. Her eyes burning with love, and lust. She pulled her long white shift off over her head, exposing all of her perfect creamy smooth flesh to Luthien's burning gaze.
Luthien stood, pulling off her nighshirt, tugging down her leather breeches. She stepped forward and took her lover into her arms. Ygraine's skin was smooth as silk and so very warm. Sparks like fire shot through Luthien's body and heart as Ygraine's rose-pink nipples brushed against her small yet perfectly made breasts. She moaned into Ygraine's mouth as Ygraine's slim fingers slid between her legs, spreading her soaking folds, rubbing her clit.
Luthein's face was in the hollow of Ygraine's neck, her eyes closed, mouth open, moaning loudly for her lover. Ygraine's finger slid effortlessly up, inside Luthein, making her passionate moans increase.
"Oh oh God, oh Ygraine, Oh Oh I love you" Luthien cried out. Her body was covered in a sheen of sweat and she clenched and shuddered and spasmed as waves of ecstasy spiraled out through her lithe, young body. Ygraine stroked the silky skin of Luthien's back even as her fingers moved inside her.
Luthien, panting, began to kiss and suck at Ygraine's neck, then kissed across her collarbones and down, she took Ygraine's lovely pink nipple into her mouth and began to suck and lick it. One of her strong, slim-fingered hands cupped and squeezed Ygraine's other small, soft breasts and the other slid down, over her soft abdomen, down between her legs.Ygraine moaned loudly as Luthien's fingers spread her soaking pink femininity apart and rubbed at the pink bud of her clit.
"Oh Luthien" Ygraine tossed back her head, her lovely thick, red locks fell around her shoulders in waves of carmine glory. Luthien continued kissing down Ygraine's body until her tongue glided against Ygraine's clit, when she began to gently lap at and suck.
Ygraine shivered, slumped forward, her long red hair filling in waves. Luthien licked and sucked at Ygraine's soft pink wetness until she shuddered and screamed in ecstasy.
The two women made love deep into the night.
Year of the Boar, Month of the Falcon, Day 12, Before Dawn
Luthein had awakened to a tapping at her door. She sat up in bed, carefully pulled on her leather breeches and overshirt and answered the door. Out in the stone hallway of Camelot stood Ashcraft, Sir Gawain's Squire, who informed Luthien King Aurthur himself wished to speak to her.
Luthien followed Ashcraft up and into Camelot's highest hall, she was ushered into a room and saw a magnificent sight, the round table It shone like gold. Arthur and Lancelot sat side by side at the head of the stairs that led up to the dias where the huge table sat. Luthien heard another door open and turned to look. Every muscle and nerve in her body tightened, it was Sir Tristan, along with Sir Gawain.
Lancelot spoke first, curtly. "Tristan, Luthien, kneel."
Then Arthur spoke. He was a physically imposing middle aged man who'd won his reputation as a chivalrous, and deadly knight on a score of battlefields. And that was before he pulled Excalibur from the stone. "My soldiers. You have a grudge, and I am going to ask you today, as your king, to put it aside."
Arthur rose, His golden-washed armor was scintillating, "Tristan, you're one of my best soldiers, enemies all over these lands live in fear of your infamous Morningstar" he turned towards Luthien. "And you Squire, I've seen you fight, you strike like lightning. And I've heard of your sword. It's nearly as famous as my own."
He glared at both Luthien and Tristan. "The Saxon King Ceadwalla refuses to submit to me authority. He is invading our realm with a massive army. I have just found this out. I NEED ALL MY SOLDIERS. And that includes both of you."
Arthur's voice softened and he took a couple of steps down. "Will you out aside your differences and help me fight these invaders?"
Luthein stared at Tristan, who stared daggers back at the French Squire. Then he turned to Arthur and spoke. "You are the True King of all England, of course Milord.
Luthein spoke. "You've given me every opportunity, My King. I swear my undying loyalty, yes I'll kill Saxon scum for you Milord."
Arthur smiled beatifically. "Then rise, and prepare for war."
Year of the Boar, Month of the Falcon, Day 16, Early Morning
Mist hung over the low bottomlands between the opposing armies. The Saxons on the far slope were grim, dark. A mass of setting humanity
Arthur's legions glittered dully in the early morning light. Most of his Knights on their steeds were caparisoned in bright colors, with shining armor. Many of the Squires, acting as infantry were also armored. Luthien's armor hand once belonged to her younger brother. It shone silver. She had her hand on Durandal's pommel.
