Ariadne Hawkenshire, daughter of King Arthur, stands in a hidden persona amongst the strongest warriors known. Legolas, son of King Thranduil, sees her as she is.
Was previously called As Quick as an Arrow.
Written following the three movies with a...
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Chapter one.
Ariadne Hawkshire, daughter of the King of Ambernshire, sat in the middle of her home.
Her city was burnt, people - her people, laid cold around her. Buildings reduced to nothing but rubble as she helplessly watched the sun rise over the crumbled castle. Trees burn around the the city, staining the kingdom in smoke. Blood matted her chestnut hair, sticking to the sides of her face, blood ran down her chin dripping onto the white shirt, the metal corset dusted with ash, blood stained her fingertips. Her ocean eyes met his through the clouded mist.
Stumbling, she falls to the floor again, crying in pain as she clutches her side, taking out the dagger stabbed in her hip. Sobbing, she stands, taking unsteady steps before she falls to her knees beside him. Her fathers eyes are cold, his chest rises slowly under the metal armour, the Kingdom's badge he held with pride on the side of his armour, stained with blood and horror.
"Father,"
Ariadne places a cold hand on his face, quickly wiping the tear off his cheek. He was cold, eyes lifeless as stares up at his daughter with a small, weak smile. Blood pooled around him, staining the whites of his hair.
"Father," Ariadne repeats in a broken whisper, "I need to get you to the healers-"
"No," His voice was hoarse, broken with a pained inhale, "No, I see her. I see your mother."
Ariadne gently brushes his hair from his face, "Please, you can't leave me-"
"We won, my darling," The King uses all his strength and with a harsh sob, he reaches up to cup his daughters face, "We won against the orcs, my daughter is safe."
"Your my home, father," She replies, pressing a kiss on his palm, "Please don't leave."
The King's eyes begin to fall shut, harsh breaths becoming shallow, "You are Queen," He gives her a last small smile, his fingertips brushing over her cheek, "I am," He swallows harshly, blood drooling in the corner of his mouth, "I'm proud.. of you."
Ariadne sobs, hand gripping his cold one as her forehead drops onto his cold chest plate. Those remaining fall to their knee, heads bowed low as they mourn their fallen King.
