An Enemy's Daughter

Summary; Eve is the twin sister of Cynric, and daughter of Cerdic. When her mission to assassinate Arthur goes wrong, she ends up locked in Marius's Dungeon. What happens when Arthur and the knights find her, when they find Guinevere and Lucan?

Rating: M for violence and adult situations.

Genre: Action/Adventure/Romance.

Pairing: Tristan/OC.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the knights, Woads, Romans, etc. I only own characters that aren't from the King Arthur realm, i.e. Evelyn, Wolfram, etc. Thanks to ZELINA for getting me back into writing this. Written so when it says Evelyn it's in her p.o.v. when it says Tristan the story will be in third person p.o.v.

Videos: To anyone interested I made a video for this story, a fanfic trailer. I also have other videos, all fanfic trailers that you can look at also. Some of the stories the videos are related are posted on here also. The link to the video is; (you'll need to remove the spaces, I can't put the link of here otherwise) h t t p / w w w . y o u t u b e . c o m / w a t c h ? v 1 b Q l 7 H 3 A p k

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Chapter I

Evelyn

The cold, dark dungeon. That's what I had dubbed it three weeks and two days ago. Had it really been that long since I'd come to be in this accursed place? Yes. I couldn't believe I had failed at doing my mission. Maybe father will come with or without Arthur dead. That had been my mission; kill Arthur Castus and return home safely. Well, I was never going to see home again. Looking around at the dungeon, I glared back at the woman across from me. She's Woad, a British rebel. Her name I found out was, Guinevere. Father would never want to see me like this… a prisoner to some fat, pompous, Roman lord who decided if you were Woad, pagan or even… Saxon. Yes, that's right I'm of Saxon blood. My name's Evelyn, Eve for short, and I'm the daughter of Cedric, king of the Saxon hordes. I may be a princess, but I'm not like most. Being brought up -- without a mother -- by my brother, Cynric and father Cedric. Not having a lot of women around didn't help, since I learned to be more like my brother, a warrior than a pretty princess.

"Evelyn? Guinevere?" a familiar voice asked. The other woman, Guinevere had only been here a week as had a young boy, Lucan.

A month ago I had landed on this island with the intentions of killing Arthur Castus -- commander of the Sarmatian knights posted here -- but when asking which fort he was at, the Roman mongrel of a dog had given me the directions to this Roman's home. It was a death house, just by looking at the outside; I knew the inside would be a thousand times worse.

"Yes," Guinevere answered the woman, while I remained silent, not looking at the Roman woman. She was kind, gentle and sweet natured, but she was still a Roman and I couldn't trust her.

"Evelyn?" A hand came to touch my cheek. Looking up, I found the woman holding a cup of water out and some bread. I turned my face away. I would rather starve then give in to Roman's. "Please take it, sweetie. You may be Saxon and I Roman, but we are both human and I won't let my husband kill you."

"I failed my mission," I coughed out my voice hoarse from how little food and water I'd had in the last couple of weeks. "Let me die so I don't have to face my father's wrath." The woman, Fulcinia, had never given into my refusals -- of the proffered food and water -- by staying for nearly three hours a night, just to get me to eat. I felt guilty upon seeing the bruise of her arm and the scar on her forearm. "Did your husband do that to you?"

She gave me a be quiet look and pushed the food and water into my hands. "Take it. I'm sure God won't let any of you die down here. My husband is too harsh and cruel."

Not wanting her to stay any longer, for fear of getting her into trouble again, I smiled and nodded my thanks. When she was gone, I noticed the Woad looking at me through narrowed eye lids. She hadn't been here for as long as what I had, but she was weak and had been tortured as much as what I had. My right hand had been broken, three fingers were snapped out of place and the torturers -- who always covered my eyes every time they tortured me -- had cut deeply into my legs and arms, leaving me extremely light-headed and weak from blood loss.

Whoever said having an older twin brother was a good thing… sure was wrong about it. Cynric and she were both twenty-seven winters old, fair haired -- well even if Cynric was bald, though his beard was fair-haired -- sky blue eyes and tanned skin from where we had spent most of our childhood outside.

"We'll die in here, you know that?" Guinevere remarked, turning her head to look at me. I heard Lucan whimper, a young boy from where or what race I did not know, he would not tell me or the Woad.

"Will you be silent for one day? Can you not see, you're frightening the poor boy?" I could only just finish the sentence without coughing. The Woad sneered in reply.

"Quiet!" Both Guinevere and I quickly stopped ourselves from arguing with each other when the "mental" monk shouted at us. "You two will never learn will you?" Without letting us say anything in reply, he motioned for the "obnoxious" monk to open the cell door. I shut my eyes and counted to ten, bracing my body for the pain that was about to attack my body. "Bring the Saxon wench to me!" I swallowed the lump of fear in my throat at his words. The third monk unchained me and dragged me -- by the arms -- out of the small, confining cell. The "obnoxious" monk grabbed my legs and together the pair lifted me up onto a stone, cold table. I shuddered as they shackled me to the table. I tried to get out by fighting the irons, but from the blood loss and exhaustion over the last three weeks, I tired easily and laid there, looking up at the ceiling blankly. "You are a strong one, wench! But I can crush your pagan spirit easily."

Looking at where he stood beside me, I found him holding a blood-stained dagger. Blood-stained. That isn't good, especially since it might cause an infection. As he lowered the dagger to my collarbone, I found that losing weight over the past couple of weeks had made it really easy for her to slip out of the chains.

Noises from the entrance drew the three monks attention which I took the opportunity to slip free sit up and even with being injured gravely, fuelled by the thought of getting Lucan and myself out of here, I quickly grabbed the dagger while the "mental" monk had his back turned.

"Exaudi orationem meam. Exaudi orationem meam. In nomine Dei Patris omnipotentis et in virtute Spiritus Sancti," the third, possibly normal monk chanted. Four armour clad men entered the dungeon, swords drawn. I froze, the first one was decked out with Roman styled clothing.

"Who are these defilers of the Lord's temple?" the "obnoxious" monk questioned. Looking down at seeing one of them glance at my body, which was barely covered by my torn pants, shirt and boots.

"Out of the way," the lead one ordered as I raised my gaze to meet his forest green ones. The monks had moved to stand near the four, leaving me alone. Thanks the Gods.

A dark curly haired man seemed angry at the forest-green eyed one. "The work of your god. Is this how he answer your prayers?"

"See if there's any still alive," the forest eyed one said in answer to his curly haired companion. I slid off the table and felt my legs give way under neath me. I shut my eyes, waiting to hit the ground, only one problem… I never did. A pair of strong arms caught me instead, helping me back up. I looked up to find an extremely tall man smiling gently at me.

"Can you walk?" I shook my head and found him lifting me up before setting me back onto the stone table. He left me, sitting there on the torture table, shaking from the cold. I looked over when I heard a cry of pain. The curly-haired man had just stabbed the third monk in the stomach.

He ignored the protest and turned to check another cell. "There was a man of God."

The other man seemed to react to the monk's words and retorted heatedly, "Not my god!" I smiled slightly at his words, he was just like Cynric when it came to religion.

"This one's dead."

"By this smell, they are all dead," another blonde-maned remarked. He turned to face the other two monks. "And you. You even move, you join him."

They were battled-hardened warriors. You can't like them. As soon as you're better, you need to get to the wall and find Arthur. Fail this and what will father think?

My self-conscious was right, I couldn't fail father because failing him, would mean I will be banished from home. Okay, I admit he is tough and rough on the outside, but inside, he is too soft when it came to me. I always managed to get what I wanted when I pulled the right act on.

"Arthur!" The name made me jump. Arthur Castus, the forest-eyed man was him. Oh no, how was I going to be able to kill one of the men who had helped me. I looked to where the tall man was lifting Lucan from a small cage.

Setting him on the stone bricks, the tall man reassured, "You must not fear me." Arthur was knelt down in front of Guinevere's cage as was the curly-haired man. Arthur stood and cut the chains with his legendary sword -- Excalibur. The curly-haired man walked over to me and set the torch down.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" he asked me, gently lifting me into his arms. Arthur was carrying Guinevere and the tall man was already outside with Lucan. Looking down, I found moving around to much had opened a lesion across my stomach. Pain was coursing through me as I felt my eyes begin to slip shut. "Lady, you must stay awake!"

"I can't, my sto…" I trailed off suddenly, going limp in his arms as my eyes rolled back. I heard his voice calling out to me, but it was fading off in the distance as I completely collapsed.