Captured Heart

She's a Bandit

King Arthur of Camelot rode through the forest, his mount weaving its way between trees and over fallen branches. He could hear the sounds of his knights doing the same. Arthur had left his manservant, George, back in Camelot. It wasn't that he didn't like the guy; he just couldn't take non-stop bootlicking. It gets annoying every once in a while. George's bootlicking and the Council's obtuseness were the primary reasons for this impromptu hunting trip.

Currently, they were following the drunken tracks of an injured deer. Percival aimed a perfect shot at the stag, but a sound of wolves baying had made the creature take flight an instant before it was hit. The result: a shoulder wound and weak deer.

All was quiet as they trotted along, quite easily making out the tracks despite the fading light. That is, it was quiet, until the sounds of the deer screaming sent them careening through the woods. Arthur didn't even know deer could make that sound! He vaguely realized that they had no idea where they were galloping and what they were galloping towards. As they sped along, still watching the tracks, Gwaine let out a whistle, "Wow, those are some big paw prints! Wouldn't want to be that thing's dinner! A single print is the size of my hand splayed!"

Elyan laughed at him, the wind tearing at the sound, "That's because you've got tiny, delicate, ladies' hands Gwaine!" Arthur heard Gwaine mutter something about wondering how ladylike his hands would feel around Elyan's neck, but he ignored it in favor of the sight before him.

It was horrifying. The deer was not just ripped to pieces, it was decimated. The jumbled, bloody mess in front of him couldn't be put back together into any semblance of a creature. The knights dismounted. Arthur felt sick and heard as though through water Mordred getting sick behind him. Surrounding the creature's remains were those same paw prints Gwaine had noted earlier. Theywere huge.

With a sort of sick fascination, Arthur noted that the stag's bones were missing. He wondered how the wolves had taken them. Then the bushes rattled to their left. Instantly the knights were on alert. With their hands to the hilts of their swords, they stalked towards the bushes.

Then the bushes to their right rattled. Too late, Arthur noticed that this was the perfect place for an ambush. It was surrounded by thick trees except for the area they had come through. Speaking of which, someone was entering along that rode right now.

The knights spun to face this new threat, but they all visibly relaxed when they realized it was just a woman. Arthur paused and reappraised her. She wasn't just a woman.

She couldn't have been more than eighteen or nineteen years old. She had raven black hair tied into a waist-long braid. Small wisps of dark hair framed her thin, milky white face. Set above prominent cheekbones were intelligent cerulean eyes. They captured his attention and for a second, all he could do was stare at her.

She flicked her eyes onto one of the other knights and Arthur felt like he had been released from a spell. He quickly looked over the rest of her, noting her protruding ears and her long, thin fingers.

Said fingers were decorated with rings and he realized that her ears sported jewelry as well. When she shifted slightly, he could hear bracelets chinking under her brown leather jacket. The jacket lay over a navy blue tunic that hung off her thin frame. Instead of necklaces, which Arthur expected, he saw a red neckerchief. She had black tights that went to rest under her dark brown leather boots.

He saw her fingers tap an irregular pattern on the hilt of her sword. That snapped him out of his daze. Why on earth would this woman be equipped with a sword? That's when she spoke. She asked, "Who are you and what business do you have here?"

Her voice filled the little grove they were in and Arthur resisted the urge to cower. He glanced quickly at his knights, seeing his own apprehension mirrored in their eyes. Well, almost all of their eyes. Lancelot was looking very calm. If Arthur didn't know better, he would say that Lancelot had actually become more relaxed by the appearance of this woman than he was on a normal day. The knights stressed more than Leon.

Arthur filed that thought away for later consideration and stood his tallest, looking the woman in the eye, only to be interrupted by Gwaine, who said, "Why don't you tell us? You seem pretty friendly with him over there." He pointed with his chin at Lancelot. Lancelot and the mysterious person shared a quick look, too quick to be sure that he hadn't just imagined it before the woman went back to staring pointedly at Arthur.

Arthur said, "I am King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot and I am hunting with my knights. These are my lands and you have no right to confront me."

The woman's lips curled up in a cruel smile and she lifted a hand. It took Arthur a moment to realize what she was doing, but the knights of Camelot were surrounded before he could say a word. He allowed himself a brief moment to be impressed by her skills, but then he whipped his sword out and, out of the corner of his eye, saw the other knights doing the same. They were outnumbered, but they were also Camelot's finest knights. He had no doubt that they could beat this group.

That woman smiled again and slid one leg forward, moving into a crouch and spinning, her leg catching Leon off balance. Before any of the knights could orient themselves to help, the woman had spun upward, catching Lancelot's arm and holding a knife to his neck. They all stilled and waited for her to speak.

Seemingly not out of breath from her impressive moves, she said, "You had three choices. One: come with us and behave and you will all most likely live. Two: try to fight back and I will kill this knight and then we will promptly capture you and force you to go where we want. Three: attempt to rescue this knight and I will kill him and if you continue to fight, we will be forced to kill all of you. So, King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot, which do you choose?"