Traitorous Knight (an Arthurian/SW crossover) Author's Note: Aug 4, 2004 ... post to follow...

up!

 

up, "You're amazing!"--Westly

 

Oh my gosh! Two of my most favorite storylines put together! u are a wonderful genius!!!! Plus the fact that u'r story is soooo good! I can't wait for more!

 

Posting posting posting... this is me, posting at long last. I'm sorry for the wait! Oh the pressure!

*Derisa*

---

Anakin spent the morning learning the basics of horse care and the upkeep of their equipment, called variously ?tack? ?bardings? and ?caparison?. The young apprentice hadn?t sorted out what was meant specifically by each term, but he was aware he didn?t *need* to know that, only to understand where each strap went and how tight each buckle should be. He had just finished reconstructing a bridle when he sensed the approach of another person to the tackroom where he sat with the other junior squires.

The slender man who stood looking in on them had greying brown hair, and a gregarious smile, making his grey eyes twinkle. ?Master Gwydion!? the youngest of the boys leapt to his feet, as eager as a puppy.

The smile widened and the man gave a sardonic half-bow by way of acknowledgement. ?Are you lads ready for today?s lesson??

There were several enthusiastic nods and voiced affirmations, and Anakin arched a questioning eyebrow at the boy he knew the best. Medraut made a sardonic face, explaining as the boys each picked up a saddle and bridle and headed out to the stable proper. ?Gwydion ap Derwydd is our riding master.?

Anakin started in surprise. ?You have lessons in this as well?? he asked, eyeing the slender man with more interest.

Medraut sighed deeply. ?I don?t need them, but many of these,? he gestured dismissively to the other young boys who surrounded them, ?Have not quite mastered the skills your Knight seemed to pick up so well.?

Anakin absorbed this, and followed the lead of the other boys, taking the saddle and bridle that Anakin had first picked up, while his companion went back for a different set of tack. The boys followed the riding teacher out to the small corral behind the stables and yard where Anakin was again surprised to see several much smaller equines than he had previously seen.

?Griff, you ride Pela; Peredur, you?re on Llynas...? Master Gwydion continued with his assignments, only at the end noting the newest member of his class. As the other boys caught their mounts and began preparing them for their lesson, Gwydion asked Anakin a few pointed questions. He was clearly puzzled by the boy?s answers, but he made an assignment nonetheless, and Anakin began his first practical use of the theoretical knowledge he had been picking up since his first encounter with these animals.

He concentrated on getting all the equipment in the right place on the sturdy mount he?d been given, and was glad the pony was considerably smaller than his Master?s greathorse, and utterly indifferent to Anakin?s fumblings, for he could only dread the idea of learning how to do these tasks on such a mettlesome mount as Llyr. Still, he noted Medraut?s delight at being given a more fiery horse, by the name Rory, to ride.

The riding master checked over their work, perfunctorily in most cases, but a little more closely in Anakin?s. He found nothing to take issue with: the Tatooine Jedi apprentice had always been an exceptionally fast learner, especially about practical matters such as equipment and its assembly. However unfamiliar he was with the animals themselves, each part of their gear had a logical purpose and use, and he had no difficulties discerning how they all fit together. It was Anakin?s own peculiar talent, one he had noted was possessed by none of the others in his age group at the Temple. That was a matter of some small pride for him, but also misunderstandings aplenty.

The boys followed Master Gwydion out of the stable yard and into the practice yard where Anakin?s master had been given his own introduction to these odd beasts. Following the lead of the other boys, Anakin set his foot into the stirrup and felt the first twinge of trepidation. Please, he whispered to himself, Don?t let me make a fool of myself!

He hopped up, putting all his weight onto his left foot, and once his waist was even with the saddle?s front roll, he lifted hi

 

Woo hoo! You wrote! Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you. Now, more! The problem with producing a good story is that we are never satisfied and always crave more. It is your duty to cater to our addiction. ;-)

Yours,
Varona the ever Impatient

 

So Anakin craves praise for his spectacular gifts, or at least attention, and misses it when it's not forthcoming? Fascinating post, although I was secretly hoping that the horse would throw Anakin or at least step on his foot.

Ollamhin Kaline, huh? Geez, wonder where that character came from.

 

A wonderful post as always. *grins* And I loved your reference to Kaline Faes.

 

Oh, you have no idea just how happy a post made me. Thank you.

I absolutely love this story.

I really enjoyed how you got into Anakin's head and explored his need for attention.

Another wonderful post soon, pretty please?

 

Ohhhh, Star Wars and horses....two of my most favorite things Nice despcription of the riding lesson. I especially liked Roisin-probably becauise I've ridden a few horses like her. My riding teacher liked to call them "babysitters" Thanks, Derisa

 

mucho gracias gracias gracias!!!!

 

The killer thing is, Jane, I was very tempted to write a certain non-Jedi, Temple resident into that as well...

I'd intended to have this up twelve hours ago, but life intervened, and now I can't sleep, so... In cae I don't say it enough, I'm so very glad you guys are still hanging on, here?s a bit more.

*Derisa*

---

It was cold up here, the chill penetrating even through the gull?s warm feathers as she glided higher over the steep crags of Kernow?s western cliffsides. Far below, the castle of her birth was awakening, and she nearly dismissed Cador?s realm, but she was caught by the flask of colour from Tintagel?s pinnacles. The White Boar of Kernow was overshadowed by the hated Pendragon sigil. A hot rage coursed through her, and Morgause sent the gull hard-winging for the West, to the foreboding darkness humped off the coast of the Island of the Mighty.

The mist took on a shadowed cast as she flew towards it, and she felt the gull?s cowering, shrinking from her direction. Ruthless and enraged, she ripped into it?s mind and then thrilled as she felt its essence flee. It would take more of her power to get her messsage to her allies, but the death gave her a sudden burst of power and control and she savoured its energies.

Why have you come, favoured one?

The voice echoing up from the unnamed isle penetrated her mind with all the sharp cold of an icicle in the heart. ?Stop that!? she ordered, almost by reflex. The icy presence withdrew, with the ghost of a laugh left in her mind. She forced the gull?s corpse to ride an updraft and soared in a circle over the dark island. ?I came to find out why you have not done as we had planned? Why are you not even now storming Cador?s shores??

Her hot anger was met with a rising column of cold disdain. You are blind, or stupid? Foolish woman, we told you to gag the Old Man! He has summoned the Champion. We cannot prevail now.

?You can and you will! I must not lose now!? Morgause screamed into the chill rising wind. ?I must not lose!?

Lady Witch, we are not strong enough to defeat the Champion, the sibillant voices hissed back at her, and she sensed a wheedling in their oily tones.

?I will make you stronger! I will give you what you have longed for all this time, what you have begged for...?

She could feel the roil of greed from within the presence and she smiled, but her triumph was cut short by the reply, edged in acid as it was. This One is not as the others were. He has the weapon we cannot stand against. The wind whistled and Morgause felt her hold on the gull?s cooling body weakening, and she had to refocus her attention on the dark presence speaking to her. What can you do against him?

Morgause fought for her control, and then a bleak light bloomed in her soul. ?I will defeat their Champion at his own games: he will fall to one of my sons in the Tourney, as has happened before.? Another thought struck her and her crippled spirit soared in vile joy. ?My son grows close to the UnderHill squire. He will find this weapon you so fear and deliver it to me.?

The triumph she felt was echoed, doubled and redoubled, as those who served with her again felt the nearness of their victory. She filled the bird?s lungs with one last breath of air and released a harsh cry of ascendancy, even as she fled the gull?s cooling body, letting it plummet to the dark Tor below, a spare feast for the twisted forms that nested there.

She came back to herself with a shiver, but a new dire resolve giving strength and purpose to her steps. It did not displease her in the least when she was confronted by her husband?s second son as she descended her tower stair. His handsome face twisted into a sneer at his stepmother, but Morgause was far too good a seductress not to see his desire, tucked away deep within, where he thought he could hide it from her.

The Queen let her robe slip open, just a little at the throat, enough for a flash of creamy skin to catch the young man?s eye. He was distracted, just as she?d pla

 

You were tempted...really? *goofy grin*

Ugh, Morgause. Killing the gull and plotting Lancelot's death, using her step-sons as tools, confusing them with her feminine wiles--ugh. Just plain ugh. Crippled spirit indeed! Well-written, though, very vivid. That Presence, whatever it is, seems to have a grain of sense, knowing that it cannot defeat the Champion, but that sense seems to have been overcome by its greed. Well, we shall see what happens and who prevails.

 

Don't worry about me hanging on, m'lady Derisa. I'm a stubborn goddess, I am

Why does Morgause think of him as her husband's second son? Is he not her son, too? And who is her husband's first son?

 

uh oh U better not ask cuz u might never know what Kind of answear u might get.
BTW
Awesome post Derisa!


Mistress Darklighter

 

What a hunt to find you! Page 18.
I won't pester you for more until after the weekend, but then the pestering begins! (hint: tell me a story, Deri, tell me a story . . .)

 

Derisa!! ¿Donde tu?

 

OMG! I love this fic! I wish I had found it sooner.

I absolutly am obsessed with the mideival era. Although I must say I read 'The Mists of Avalon' before any other Aurthurian legend and it predjudiced me Now I can't help but think the Morgaine or Morgause, whatever she is known as in this one, is just misunderstood.

Post soon!

 

At long last, here's another post! (You'd better be careful, Varona, you know you *always* get what you ask for...)

Welcome to the oddities of my particular Arthurian mythos, Jedi Girl, Nikita. Glad to have another few readers join the fold!

Enjoy!

*Derisa*

---

The King sat his horse with ease and grace, not two yards away from Merlin, but he seemed far more distant. The Harper rode at his side in silence, his long legs hanging loose against the sides of his leggy chestnut mare. The wind sang to the Harper as they rode.

At length, Arthur turned to face his teacher, and Merlin watched his face intently, but the King did not speak. How reticent he has become of late.

?Artos,? he began, ?Have things gone well with your cousin??

Arthur breathed in a lungful of the morning?s air, and looked out over the sea. The Dark Isle was not visible this day, the sea?s silver sheen obscuring any distant objects. ?Cador is well satisfied with what we can offer him. We will be sending another full legion to the Shore to head off the Tide before it gets too strong.? Arthur seemed to pause, but said no more.

Merlin watched his friend, but Arthur would not meet his eye. ?And what of the Champion??

?Emrys, you know I can?t acclaim him as such until after the Grand Tourney...? Arthur replied. ?And Cador needs the reinforcements now.?

Merlin nodded, waiting, but again, Arthur would not continue. ?Speak, my Prince. What troubles you??

Arthur?s brow clouded, and Merlin watched as his bright gaze seemed to turn inwards. ?Dreams,? he replied at last. ?I am troubled by dreams. A tower in a wood, Gwenna facing me... so *angry*... a terrible feeling of betrayal, and then sudden hope: a babe in a woman?s arms, glowing, like salvation. It?s very vague.?

?It does not sound so, Artos,? Merlin disagreed, ?It sounds quite clear. Dreams seem to grow from Tintagel?s rocky soil. The Ch-? he stopped himself, ?Sir Lance was similarly affected in the night.?

Arthur?s keen eyes looked away, over the heads of the other riders in their party, to where the red-haired knight rode between Cador, Kernow?s Duke, and Lothian?s bravest warrior, Gawain. ?What does he dream of?? he murmured, but Merlin knew he was not being asked in earnest. Arthur had a particular tone of voice when he voiced his thoughts aloud: no answer was necessary.

At that moment, Gawain burst into laughter, and Arthur?s handsome face split into a grin in automatic response. ?Better to ask, what do they talk of, my Prince,? Merlin said, and his mild jest was answered with a stiff smile from his King.

- - -

?I don?t understand,? Obi-Wan repeated, once Gawain had muffled his outburst to a minimum of chuckling, ?These tournaments are not considered real combats, and yet many people and animals are injured in them??

Cador nodded. ?The Tournament is a test of skills: horsemanship foremost-?

?Not so, Lance,? Gawain contradicted his companion, having recovered a more serious demeanor, ?In the tourney, the mastering of the weapons is of far greater account than one?s seat or aids.?

?Weapons are used by everyone on the field, Gawain,? Cador countered, ?It is the horse that makes the Knight.?

Obi-Wan, absorbing this debate, stroked a hand down along his mount?s arched neck. Llyr?s fiery presence seemed like banked coals, ready to rouse to fury at a moment?s notice, but for now quite content to smolder warmly under his rider. The Jedi was dragged back into the conversation by the arrival of a third warrior, the broad-shouldered figure of Prince Ban of Benoic.

?Are these louts bothering you, Sir Fae? I can knock them from their horses right now if you wish.? Ban?s blue eyes twinkled with good humour, even as the other two countered with mock threats of their own. Obi-Wan observed that the three men respected each other, despite the disparity in their ages and ranks.

He understood that Prince Ban outranked he Duke of Kernow, although the younger man ruled his lands, and Ban would not rule Benoic until his uncle died or abdicated. H

 

Excellent post, Derisa! I loved the punch in the last line, revealing Medraut as the child of Arthur and his half-sister. I'm sure there are many who will appreciate the family tree you've outlined in this scene, myself included, since I've been having trouble keeping the relations straight! The pieces are falling into place!

I really like the comraderie shared by fellow knights Ban, Cador, and Gawain. You illustrated their relationship well, from the exchanged lighthearted jibes and threats to Ban's chagrin and riding ahead to apologize to Gawain.

On to the Grand Tournament!

- Rani

 

awesome possum! New post!

 

Uppsie-daisy!

-Rani

 

Okay, I know there are other Derisa fans out there besides Miana and myself... so I'm guessing maybe they haven't seen Derisa's latest post?

Jane? Artimis? Varona? Maija Darklighter? Musical Jedi? Lurkers, too, you know who you are... You guys need to see this, and let Derisa know you're still reading, so I'm upping it again just for you! Feedback is a Good Thing (tm).

Keep it coming, Derisa! (By the way, did I ever thank you enough for not giving into temptation and naming this story "A Jedi in King Arthur's Court"?)

- Rani

 

Sorry... Been battling RL.

But I'm back now! And I UP this fic!

 

heh heh heh... nope, Rani, you never *did* thankme for that, so...

*Derisa*

 

I'm here! Sorry I'm late, but I've been battling RL and my ISP. But I'm back now, and plan to stay that way

Congratulations, Derisa. I can usually keep the Arthurian family trees straight, but you've managed to confuse even me! At least we now know who everyone is. Looking forward to more