Anya bolted upright, a half-formed scream escaping her lips. She glanced around frantically, trying to register reality past her lingering nightmares. Scooting backwards on the dirt, she bumped into a solid form. As she whirled around to face it, all her nightmares and fears instantly vanished.

Bentley was stretched out on the ground behind her, his chest rising and falling slowly in his sleep. She remembered falling asleep in the middle of the story she'd made up for him, having felt completely happy and safe. Bentley was her friend and protector. Her knight. Nothing bad could happen if he was there.

She was just lying down again when the peaceful morning erupted into chaos. Six huge horses broke through the trees, shaking the ground as they thundered toward the house. Anya didn't even have time to scream before the soldiers had jumped to the ground.

Two of the soldiers grabbed Walsch as three others headed toward Luanne's house. The largest man dropped to the ground beside Bentley, who was still asleep. Anya recognized him as the one who had taken Bentley away before – Avarick.

"Bentley, wake up!" she pleaded, shaking her friend's arm. Luanne's scream echoed through the yard. While Bentley's eyebrows drew together into a scowl, he didn't wake up.

Avarick drew his sword, crossed to Bentley in two long strides, and pressed the blade to his neck. Anya stood, wanting to defend her friend, but she cowered in fear the second Avarick turned his hate-filled eyes on her. The huge man glared at her in disgust, then quickly swung his free arm toward her, backhanding her with so much force that she flew through the air for several feet. She skidded into the ground, closer now to the trees than to the house.

Anya simultaneously gasped for breath and burst into tears. Her entire body ached, but the fear coursing through her like fire was screaming at her to run. Stumbling to her feet, she half-ran, half-crawled to the cover of the trees. Collapsing into the bushes, she lay still, sobbing and listening to the screams and the chaos. After a few minutes, Avarick's horrid laugh rang out above the din.

"Don't you get it, boy?" he taunted. "You've been taken in by a fairy tale. Lucius always wins. He's the real prince of Arrethtrae!"

The second she raised her head, Anya wished she hadn't. The first thing she saw was Bentley hanging by his neck, swinging from the end of a rope that had been tied to the tree. His hands were tied behind his back, and his legs kicked wildly as he struggled for breath. It was one of the worst things Anya had ever seen, but she couldn't take her eyes away.

Despite his injuries from the soldiers, Walsch broke free of his guards and ran towards Bentley. A blow to the back of his head from Avarick knocked him to the ground where he lay, motionless. The soldiers dragged him back as Avarick began barking orders for their departure.

Although she was afraid for Walsch and the others, Anya kept her eyes on Bentley. He had stopped struggling now, and that was far worse than his violent kicking. Now occasionally his legs would twitch, and then he would just hang there, swinging slightly. Anya felt her heart break a thousand times over as she watched him.

As the soldiers mounted their horses and began to gallop away with their prisoners, Avarick wheeled his horse around to look at Bentley one more time. The huge man laughed again – a laugh so evil that it seemed to send a shadow over the world.

Anya covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to block out all the horrors before her. She fell to the ground again, feeling the earth shudder under her as Avarick rode away. She felt too heartbroken to even cry. There was nothing she could do. Why couldn't she just go away with her mommy and Bentley?

Don't despair, little princess. Be brave.

Her muscles relaxing, Anya slowly lifted her head. The voice hadn't been audible – it was as if she had felt it, rather than hearing it. But the kind words were echoing in her heart.

Don't despair. Be brave. Be brave.

Pushing herself to her feet, Anya limped as quickly as she could out from the cover of the trees. Seeing Bentley hanging there, still twitching, simultaneously sent a stab of pain through her and gave her even more determination. She would help him if it killed her. But what could she do?

In her haste, Anya caught her lame foot against a rock and fell to the dirt. As she began to stand up again, something shining on the ground a few feet away from her caught her eye. Scrambling over to it, she wrapped her good fingers around the handle and lifted the long, sharp knife. Immediately she recognized it as Bentley's knife that he carried on his belt. It must have been dropped during the confusion.

Glancing from the sharp blade to the rope, Anya knew what she had to do. It didn't seem possible, but she had to try. Her knight was running out of time.

"Hang on, Bentley," she panted, making her way to the tree. "Please. Please don't die."

She'd seen this tree many times during her stay at Luanne's house the past few weeks, but it had never seemed so huge or unfriendly. Now she had to find a way to climb it without dropping the knife. Everything she tried, from holding the blade in her teeth to stabbing it into the tree ahead of her, didn't work, and every second she lost brought Bentley closer to death.

Frustrated, Anya threw down the knife and began to scramble up the tree, thinking she might find some way to untie the rope. She'd only gotten a few inches off the ground, however, when she lost her grip and fell to the dirt. As she fell, part of her skirt caught on the rough bark of the tree, ripping a long shard of fabric off her already ragged dress.

Anya's eyes filled with irritated tears as she grabbed the torn-off fabric and threw it to the ground, needing something to take out her anger on. But as she looked down at the ground where the shard of dress had landed on the knife, her anger instantly drained out of her. Without pausing to dry her tears, she scooped up both objects. As quickly as she could, she wrapped the scrap of fabric around the knife blade, dulling its edge. Carefully she tucked the knife into the crook of her crippled arm, hugging it to her chest. She then made her way back to the base of the tree, took a deep breath, and began to climb.

It was a painstakingly slow and difficult process. Her crippled right arm and foot were all but useless, and by the time she was half-way up the muscles on the left side of her body were burning worse than she'd ever felt. But something whispered in her heart that she needed to keep going, and somehow she had the strength to do just that.

After what felt like an eternity, Anya pulled herself onto the limb that the rope was tied to. She lay along it, inching herself as best she could toward the rope. Once she reached it, she couldn't help glancing down. Bentley now hung limp and still.

"No," Anya whispered, trying to keep her balance as she pulled out the knife. "Bentley, you can't leave. You can't."

Clumsily unwrapping the blade, Anya began to saw at the taut rope. It was thicker than she ever would have imagined.

"Please," she whispered, a tear trailing down her cheek. "Please, Prince. You love Bentley. Don't let him die."

Suddenly the rope snapped, sending Bentley to the ground with a sickening thud. The knife slipped out of Anya's tired fingers, landing on the ground near Bentley's motionless form.

Finally the princess felt like a small, helpless child again, and she didn't try to stop the flood of tears. After clinging to the tree branch and sobbing for a few moments, Anya began to slowly make her way back down. The descent was a mixture of climbing and falling, but she barely noticed all the scrapes from the rough bark. At last her feet hit the earth and crumpled beneath her. Knowing she wouldn't be able to stand, the small girl crawled over to Bentley.

The knight's strong form was twisted into awkward positions. Still sobbing, Anya set to work rolling him over onto his back and straightening his arms and legs. She loosened the rope pressing into his neck until she was able to pull it off over his head. Finally she sat behind him, carefully laying his head in her lap.

Everything was still. The morning was deceptively peaceful. The birds were resting. The sky was calm. And Bentley wasn't moving.

Anya's heart seemed to fall to the pit of her stomach as the realization sunk in that, despite all her efforts, Bentley might be gone forever. Just like her mommy. Gone where she couldn't reach them.

"I'm so sorry, Bentley," she cried. "I love you. I'm sorry. I love you."

Closing her eyes, Anya wept freely. Her warm tears fell onto Bentley's face as her wails pierced the silence of the morning. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.

Nothing mattered. Until a voice weakly whispered her name.

Opening her eyes, she found the eyes of her knight looking back at her.

"Bentley . . . you're alive!"

She wiped away her tears, trying to make sure she was really seeing him, that he was really looking at her. Bentley rolled over and tried to sit up, then winced in pain and held his head in his hands. Anya reached out and touched his cheek.

"Are you all right, Bentley?"

"I will be."

Anya watched her knight as he rubbed his neck and looked around him in wonder. His eyes moved from the severed rope still tied to the tree down to the knife beside him, then back to Anya.

"Did you . . ."

Not sure how to answer, Anya nodded.

"But how?"

Suddenly Anya felt sheepish about what she'd done. Biting her lip, she simply pointed to the knife, trying to think of some explanation. "They didn't see when they left. You were going to die. I just . . . had to."

Bentley stared at her, clearly amazed. Then, to Anya's surprise and delight, he pulled her into his arms.

"You are as brave as a knight, my little princess," he said as he smiled at her. "Thank you for saving my life! The heart of the Prince is in you."

Anya threw both arms around his neck and hugged him with all her strength. Her heart overflowed with joy. Her knight was alive.

Thank you, Prince, her heart whispered. Thank you for doing the impossible.

...

The feeling of fear is not sin.

What matters is how you act on that fear.

Impossibilities are not important.

What matters is whether or not you believe

in the Prince's power

to do the impossible through you.

...

A/N - When I read "Sir Bentley and Holbrook Court" (a book from the Knights of Arrethtrae series by Chuck Black, which is overlooked far too often), this scene really stood out in my mind. It was such a powerful moment that I wanted to explore it a little deeper. I hope I've done it justice. The fact that this is a fic expanding on a scene from the book means that almost all of the dialogue, specifically at the beginning and end, doesn't come from me. A lot of it is straight from the book, so I just want to point out that it belongs to Chuck Black, not me. I'm just a fan who loved the book and borrowed parts of it so I could dig in a little deeper. :)