HAPPY BIRTHDAY ASHLEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Today is Ashley's (
sasha_b) Birthday!!!!!
And in celebration of my best friend's special day, I've made a couple of things for her.
Tucked under a cut is a King Arthur Ficlet I wrote for her and a cover design for one of her future novels.
The first part of my birthday gift was to make Ash a design for her Live by the Sword series, so here is that design:
And what I did with it was have it printed on a black shirt and I mailed it to her as part of her Birthday package this year.
And the other gift is a ficlet that I wrote for her too:
Title: The Awakening of the Senses
Author: Cat (lessy37)
Warnings: PG - Adult subject matter/slash implied but nothing graphic
Characters/Pairings: Gwenn (OC), Arthur & Lancelot (implied)
Author's Notes: I don’t own Arthur or Lancelot despite of how much I dream of it. This is a random KA slice of life for Ashley’s birthday. No beta, so all mistakes are entirely mine. Based on movie-verse (King Arthur).
* * *
The day was like any other ordinary day in Britain; the sun’s glow masked by the ever present blanket of gray clouds between the Earth and the heavens. Gwenn spent the day at the edge of a small stream bordering the cluster of buildings which made up the supporting village to the military outpost. The Romans had named it Camboglanna along the mighty stone Wall, but the locals simply called it Badon Hill.
Diligently, Gwenn scrubbed and cleaned what seemed to be endless baskets of sullied laundry from the fortress…as was per usual in her daily chores. Her pale blue smock damp and smattered with soap residue, the young woman lifted the final basket of laundered linens and walked back towards the village. The young woman briefly rubbed her dirt speckled brow on the sleeve of her dress as she walked; long plaited hair swishing side to side in the way she strode. Gwenn’s green eyes turned upwards at the darkening sky - had she labored through the evening meal into twilight? Not quite. A thunderous crack answered her and confirmed an oncoming storm.
In anticipation of a heavy rain, the freshly washed linens were strung up inside the store house before Gwenn was finally released from her chores by her stepmother. She picked up the grass-stained edges of her pale coloured skirt and hurried across the courtyard as the first fat drops of rain began to fall from the angry clouds above. But instead of reaching her intended destination, Gwenn was forced by the sudden heavy rainfall to take shelter in the nearest structure - the stables.
Gwenn’s blonde hair was dripping with water and her smock was thoroughly soaked. Several long wisps of her hair had come loose from the braid and now stuck to her pale cheeks and neck. She pulled off the smock and wrung the material of as much excess water as possible. Even the pale woolen dress she wore beneath her work smock was damp with the rain. Goose bumps decorated her exposed arms and she momentarily rubbed furiously at them to try and regain some warmth in her limbs. Of course there was nothing to be done about her feet thanks to the thinly worn leather shoes she wore. Gwenn surely looked as if she’d jumped into a nearby pond rather than only caught in the rain. She softly grumbled against the cold and wet while she gave her skirts a firm shake as well. Water splattered all around her in random odd patterns in the dust of the dry stable floor.
A noise then caught Gwenn’s attention - perhaps because it was not a sound she would normally associate with being in the stables. She had come into the sizable structure from a small infrequently used side entrance and not bothered to look around to see if anyone else had taken shelter from the storm here as well. But Gwenn suddenly sensed that she was most definitely not alone. The cavalry horses were housed in this section of the stables. Gwenn had always been fascinated and in awe of the fine and powerful creatures the soldiers rode. So she had found as many opportunities as possible to steal into the stables to admire the elegant beasts while they were confined in their stalls. Perhaps a soldier, a keeper, or even a knight had come to sooth their horse on account of the fierce storm. No matter who or what was about here, Gwenn knew she should not be discovered. She did not belong.
Yet the servant’s daughter who typically shied away from any possible trouble or confrontation found her feet quietly carrying her towards the strange noise. Something in the pit of her belly drew her in. The sound seemed to be permeating from the last stall in the row. The rain beat thunderously on the roof overhead and another bolt of lightning cracked a brief white light through the open window at the far end. One would think that no other sound could possibly be heard with such a storm raging outside…yet there it was again; clearly audible to her ears.
Gwenn felt her entire body tense as the rhythmic and muffled thudding continued in apparent ignorance to the storm’s fury outside. What if it was an injured animal? What if it was dangerous? The door to the last stall was shut and no one appeared to be coming to its rescue. But that only added to Gwenn’s apprehension. She should go….but the storm thundered again outside and kept her feet firmly planted here within the relative safety of the dry stables. She would make sure that the animal - for at this moment her logical brain could see no other source for the noise - was in no immediate danger and then she would wait out the heaviest of the rain somewhere else in the stables. But the young woman was definitely not brave enough to open that stall door or even boldly peer over its ledge.
Thus not wanting to make her presence too easily known to the animal, Gwenn slipped into the adjacent stall and searched for a knothole or crack in the wooden paneling. The sound of her shoes crunched the dry and brittle straw on the stable floor, but the noise was easily crested by the heavy reverberation of rain splattering on the walls and roof of the stables. How odd that the rhythmic thudding sound was still audible to Gwenn’s ears though. A sconce hanging on the wall outside the stalls was lit and cast a gentle orange glow over the top of the doors…enough to make out shadows ‘inside’ the nearby stalls if one chose to look. Gwenn located a small crack about chest high and bent to peer through into the neighboring stall. For a moment, her eyes squinted against the dark until her pupils adjusted to the lower light on the other side of the wall. But before she could focus, the sound stopped followed by a heavier thud as if something had fallen to the floor in the stall.
“Bythegods……mmMphhh…” A man’s coarse and broken voice came from within the dark stall in place of the sound that had lured Gwenn to this spot. This was no injured animal. She should go…now.
But then Gwenn’s vision adjusted to the darker space she was staring into and she nearly gasped aloud. Her right hand instinctively flew to cover her mouth and she bit at her tongue in further effort to remain silent. She would have recognized that thick curly head of hair anywhere. But who the knight was with, she could not clearly make out. Some foolish and all too willing tavern girl no doubt. The man was charming….but very dangerous by reputation. Gwenn’s stepmother had warned her to keep away from him. And Gwenn was certain that she should run away right this moment too….but her heart was hammering in her chest at the sight of him and it was not fear that made it do so. No, it was something else entirely.
Gwenn could see that Lancelot’s upper body was bare in what dappling of torchlight had found its way into the dark stall; the light caught and shown brilliantly on his damp skin. Gwenn could see every muscle ripple with pure strength as the man shifted his position atop whomever he straddled in the hay. Lancelot’s neck corded as he tilted his head back while his body slowly rocked in place. And he was smiling deeply even as his eyelids shuttered. Lancelot was breathtakingly and shamelessly beautiful to Gwenn’s virtuous eyes. Her once pale chilled cheeks suddenly flamed hot with her own body’s reaction to what she was seeing. A strong flutter of desire warmed her entire body from the inside out. Without his knowledge, Lancelot had awoken what it was to feel desire for another in this young woman’s body and soul. Or perhaps it was a talent that the knight did indeed know he possessed.
Mother goddess.
Lancelot released a long moan and mumbled something in a foreign tongue that Gwenn could not understand. But the meaning was clear enough….he was pleased with the dark shape beneath him. Gwenn knew it completely rude and ‘wrong’ to be secretly observing a private act between two others. But she found that she could not tear her gaze from the tiny crack in the paneling that thankfully concealed her from their view. Something deep inside of her body ached with need as she continued to stare at the hard lines of Lancelot’s body. She felt her pulse soar to match the thudding in her chest. It was no wonder that every girl in the village wanted him. Lancelot looked like a god here in the darkened stall haloed by a gentle glow from a single torch light flickering over the top of the stall he occupied…with a lover.
Gwenn bit at her bottom lip and her fingers clutched forcefully at the damp smock in her left hand. She was completely captivated by the sight of him. Lancelot bent down to whoever lay beneath him and the two seemed to melt into one solid shape in the dark. Gwenn thought again to leave, but her entire body seemed frozen in place. And if not for the thunderous storm, she was certain that the two lovers in the next stall would hear her pounding heart. But in her core, Gwenn suddenly realized that she longed to be that ‘other’ person Lancelot was so obviously pleasured by here in the stables. The revelation brought on another bright crimson flush to her cheeks and exposed throat.
A horse snorted and stomped in some nearby stall and Lancelot rose up. He shifted to stand and glanced towards the stable door as if he knew….someone might be near.
The knight’s entire body was now visible to Gwenn through that tiny crack. She could not help the small squeak that slipped out of her mouth. He was…..the most desirable man she had ever seen. She dared to allow her gaze to shift downwards from his chiseled chest to the flat plane of his belly and to what was certainly the core of his allure (and talents)…..Gwenn’s face was on fire with both embarrassment and raw desire at the sight of him. But Lancelot turned as he offered a hand to his companion; his perfectly formed hip twisted to block the most intimate part of his body from her view. Gwenn could bear to look no more for fear of being overcome with want and straightened up from her crouched position. She took a single step back from the wall of the stable and tried to calm herself. She heard muffled voices and her mouth gaped open at the realization that both were very much ‘masculine’ in tone. It was NOT a woman with Lancelot at all! Gwenn clutched at her chest and her eyes widened at the shock of it….but oddly enough she was no less drawn to what she had witnessed. Gwenn had sworn to have felt the fiery passion between them radiating from that other stall. She could still feel the heat of their fire on her cheeks.
Fearing discovery, Gwenn hurriedly slipped out of her hiding place and fled down the row of stalls as fast as her tired feet would carry her. She rounded the first corner and collapsed on a small bench next to the tack room. She gasped aloud and wrapped her arms tightly around her own waist. Gwenn’s entire body trembled and she slowly rocked herself on that bench. She sat there for what seemed like an eternity, but in truth it had only been minutes before the sound of footsteps could be heard from the direction she’d come. Gwenn held her breath and prayed to the gods that Lancelot would not turn in her direction. It had to be Lancelot and his….companion…as no other soul had come by this way since Gwenn had fled her hiding place. The sound of boots striking dry dirt and straw came closer now and her heart beat as loud as a drum. She knew that she should have slipped away into another empty stall…but she remained still where she sat.
Lancelot was the first to pass the intersection and thankfully continued on towards the front of the stables. He did not turn the corner where Gwenn sat still as stone on her bench. She had not dared to turn her head, but Gwenn saw the handsome knight’s profile out of the corner of her eye. A flutter of…want…rose up again in her belly and she bit at her bottom lip. But then his companion came into view….
….Gwenn nearly squeaked aloud in utter shock and astonishment. She knew Lancelot’s companion…oh yes…everyone did. He was, after all, none other than the revered commander of the entire fortress.
Arthur.
The tall, broad shouldered Roman wore an easy smile as he walked after his knight. Gwenn only caught a passing glance of both men, but she saw the contentment in both their postures. And luckily neither man had taken any notice of her as they walked by the entrance to the hallway where she sat. Neither man had seemed to have eyes for anything other than each other. And Gwenn did not know what to think about this particular revelation. But something in her mind - and perhaps her heart - warned her to keep quiet about what she now knew.
And then Gwenn’s lips formed a smile…a silly grin at recalling the pieces of straw she’d noticed suck in the Commander’s curly hair as he passed by. Was the man human after all? And not only the magnificent invincible warlord that he had always appeared to be…especially to a young innocent girl with green eyes and dirty blonde hair. What Gwenn did not realize was that the brilliant emerald colour in her own eyes easily matched Arthur’s. And what she also did not know was that ‘Lancelot’ had noticed that very same detail about her.
~ The End.
* * * * *
Please join me in wishing Ashley a very wonderful and special birthday. Love you so much, petal. *squish*