The Final Confrontation(Arthur,Dante,Evie,Henry)

[Dante Grixis]

Dante grinned inwardly as the Prince disposed of his armor and cast it aside. Now if Dante landed a hit to the torso it could prove fatal.

Dante deftly blocked all of the attacks from Arthur. He was surprised by the boy's new found strength though, it seemed as though he had gotten a second wind. As their swords collided and locked Dante was forced off balance by the force of Arthur's attack. He was too busy struggling against the weight of Arthur's blade pushing on his he didn't see the kick coming. It connected painfully with his right knee sending him sprawling on him back. Arthur's blade grazed his face on the way down drawing a thin red line across Dante's cheek.

As quickly as he hit the ground Dante was back up. He spun his whole body into his next attack. He leveled his blade with Arthur's chest and swung with all the power he could muster. Even if the attack was blocked it would be likely that Arthur would drop his weapon, or if Dante was lucky it would cause damage to his opponent's sword arm.

[Prince Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur saw it coming.
Someone in the crowd screamed.

Dante's blade sliced through the air with such force that Arthur barely had time to register the attack and although he tried to dodge it, his arm was hit, badly.
His sword clattered to the ground and he dropped to his knees, clutching at the bloody limb. He couldn't feel his fingers, he couldnt even see his fingers- there was so much blood.

The pain was incredible, worse even that when Dante had sliced his knees. At least he had known what damage had been done. This time the liquid pouring from the wound meant he had no idea of the scale of the injury and the fact that he couldnt feel his fingers was worrying.

Now he knelt on the dusty floor, looking up into the assassins eyes.
It was all over now. He had to accept his fate.

[Dante Grixis]

Dante was nearly elated as he watched his sword slice into Arthur's arm and saw the damage it produced. The Prince dropped his weapon and fell to his knees holding his mangled limb. Dante took a step forward and held his sword up to the side of the Prince's neck. Arthur must know what was coming next, and he wasn't even going to put up a fight. Dante was almost disappointed.

He looked into Arthur's eyes for a brief moment before drawing his sword back and swinging hard for his neck, a blow that would knock Arthur's head clean from his shoulders, making Dante the victor.

[Prince Arthur Pendragon]

Arthurs pained eyes met with Dantes cold harsh ones.

It wasn't quite how Arthur had imagined death would be, but perhaps that was because he was concentrating so hard on staying concsious thanks to his injured arm. There was no life flashing before his eyes or a white light to follow, just pain and shame.


Arthur closed his eyes.


He heard the swing of the steel through the air, felt the sudden rush of wind on his face and raised his chin slightly higher. He wasn't afraid to die, but his father would be so disappointed in him. He could barely bring himself to even think about the shame this would bring upon the Pendragon name, they would never be able to stand in court again.


A single solitary tear rolled down his cheek.


He braced himself and finally let go of his injured arm, his fingers coming to rest in the dust in front of him and finding cold hard steel instead.


His sword.


Now Arthur did something that he hadn't planned for. He grabbed his fallen blade in his left hand and thrust it upwards.


Straight through Dante's heart.

[Dante Grixis]

Dante stopped midswing when he felt a pain like he had been punched hard in the chest. Whatever it was knocked the wind out of him. He took a quick breath inward in felt a sharper pain in his chest. It was an odd sensation. He looked down and saw the Arthur's sword was buried hilt deep in his chest. He looked at it curiously and he coughed. A thick mixture of blood and bile shot from his mouth onto the ground and onto Arthur's face. Dante looked over his shoulder and saw the blade sticking out of his back.

He staggered a few steps back and clutched the wound in his chest. Blood began to pour like a river through his fingers and he quickly fell onto his back. He could hear the crowd cheering somewhere miles away. His eyesight was blurry and his pulse was slowing. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He had won! The Prince was seconds away from death, but Dante had let his guard down. Now he was paying the price. He coughed again sending a pink spray into the air above him. His breathing was labored and his chest rose and fell spastically.

His head rolled to the side and he saw a few guards beginning to patch Arthur's arm up. Dante rolled his head back and looked up at the blue sky above him. He realized that it was the last time he would see it.

Dante slowly came to the realization that he was in a puddle of his own blood that went from his neck to his lower back, and it was spreading. He imagined that the blade had pierced his heart and one lung and that he had maybe two minutes to live. The world around him was growing darker and hazier, and the sounds of the crowd were drifting further away.

He had failed, the Prince lived. And now he was about to leave Evie and Henry behind. He knew that he would be missed and a pained smiled formed on his face for a second before it faded. He was confident that they would be able to carry on and live without him. He hoped that he was right.

Dante slowly began to slip from consciousness. His whole life he had been preparing for this moment, but now he realized that no man could ever be prepared. He was afraid to die. The world around him spun twice then became impossibly dark. His brain sent the final electrical discharge down his spine and he twitched, became rigid and a second later dropped limp.

Dante Grixis, the man born across the sea in Spain, now laid dead in an arena in Camelot. He had been an assassin for many years, he had killed countless men, and it was inevitably his profession and his pride that had killed him.

His life ending violently, exactly as he had lived.

[Evie Perroy]

Evie watched the events unfold in horror from the sea of spectators.

A roar from the royalist supporters erupted, and brilliant red flags streamed through the air in triumph. But the sound seemed distant to her; the ribboning motion of the banners slow. Her hand, which had previously been gripped to Henry's sleeve during the battle, released and clutched at her chest in utter horror. It felt like she too had been stabbed through the heart. For a moment, her body simply reeled on the spot, suddenly cold and mute with shock.

And then everything sped up. Evie leapt over the barrier which divided the watchers from the battle ring, hurtling across the dusty ground to where Dante had fallen, not pausing even to check if Henry had followed her. Somewhere close by she could hear a heart wrenching scream, and only when her lungs cried for air did Evie realise it was from her own mouth. As she neared Dante, the guards that had initially rushed out to stop her from reaching the Prince backed away; Evie didn’t stop to notice or think why.
She dropped heavily to her knees, skidding to Dante’s side in a cloud of dust.

No, no, no, no…

The one little word rattled through her mind.

"No, no, no."

It was whispered out loud as her shaking hands reached out to touch Dante's hair and face and clothes. He can't be dead, Evie told herself, stubbornly denying reality. He's still warm. She leant to kiss his forehead, then his mouth. She kissed him again and again, hot tears pouring from her chin onto his as the realisation sunk in. "No, no, no."

She put her hands over the fatal wound, as if by will alone she could heal it and stop the blood.

"No. No. NO." Evie cried, her voice cracking as she looked up into the Prince's face. The words sounded furious, but her eyes were filled with nothing but anguish and utter hopelessness. In those few seconds, Evie was again the teenage girl informed of her father's death, and left, alone in the world.

She laid herself over Dante's chest, wracked with silent sobs as her small body pressed against Dante's broken one. She squeezed her eyes closed, and clung to his clothes, oblivious to the fact her hair and face and dress were reddening with his blood; oblivious to anything but the great black void that had opened up inside her chest and was tearing her world apart. "No." The half-whispered word was muffled.

As his blood pooled into the dust, Evie gently stretched out her arm, linking her trembling fingers through Dante's lifeless ones.

[Lady Morgana le Fey]

Although she had sat on the edge of her seat for the entire battle it wasn't because she was excited- in fact she was terrified. Terrified that something was going to go wrong and Arthur was going to end up dead. It was as if she didn't even have control of her body at this point as a strangled cry broke through her defenses. It was at the exact same moment as Dante's sword sliced into Arthur's arm.

She, and everyone else watched in horror as Arthur dropped his sword, fell to his knees and prepared himself for the blow that would cut off his head. Unless the fates intervened Morgana was going to watch her adopted brother be cut down to a headless body. She offered up the quickest prayer to whomever was up there listening.

Perhaps Arthur regained control of his surroundings or someone up there heard her request but all of a sudden Arthur managed to find his sword and run it through Dante's chest. A cheer erupted from the crowd as it was Dante's turn to collapse to the ground. Although Morgana had grown up around bloody men- her father fought alongside Uther afterall the sight of Dante's blood, bile and other stuff almost made her lose her stomach as well. Instead of looking at Dante she looked towards Arthur where some of his knights were already patching up his arm. She was grateful that he was still alive however she was going to make him understand one way or another that if he EVER did anything like that again she'd kill him herself.

[Prince Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur stared at Dante as his sword cut through him like a knife in butter. He had killed men before but never like this, never because of a personal feud. It felt different and it felt wrong.
He continued staring as the body of his opponent collapsed into a heap and then Arthur was sick.

It was possible he lost conciousness, for the next thing he knew his arm was being bandaged and he was being patted on the back, but still his eyes stayed on that lifeless heap that was Dante Grixis- assassin, friend and lover.

A sudden commotion in the stands finally cause Arthur to tear his eyes away from the body and he was surprised to see a frenzied Evie tearing through the crowd towards him. She looked distraught and he raised a hand to his men to show it was fine for her to approach. He couldn't imagine why on earth she had gotten so upset, he was alive after all and she had denied having a romantic interest in him but he of course didn't know that she was a Low.

When she turned away from him and went to Dante, he was surprised but not angry. He suddenly realised that they must have been lovers. He was sick again.

After a while he began to feel that this was wrong- she was being watched by half of Camelot.
"Evie..." He began, walking closer to the poor girl and placing a wary hand on her arm. "We should move him now..." He tried to pull her away from her boyfriend who lay, bleeding out, on the sand.

[Henry Renold]

Henry arrived at the battle late. He had toyed with the idea of not coming at all- he just couldn't bear the thought of what might happen- but in the end had decided that he would come. Just for Evie's sake.

All of Camelot and their brother seemed to have turned out to watch their crown prince fight "the assassin" as he had come to be known. Henry felt sick. Dante was so much more than an assassin but no one could see it. Even if he did kill Arthur he would likely just be tossed in gaol and everyone would think even worse of him than they had done before.

He wormed his way through the masses as quickly as he could, finding Evie's blonde head and settling next to her, she was soon gripping his arm as the pair began their duel.

***

The fight had gone on for what seemed like days. Henry had been on the edge of his seat the whole way through, desperate for Dante to get the upper hand. On the plus side Arthur hadn't had any advantage either, but still, it was utterly nerve racking and he couldn't even began to envisage what Dante would be feeling. Or Evie, who still gripped his sleeve.

But finally sense of elation sailed through him as Dante reduced the prince to his knees. He was going to do it! He was going to win! Henry jumped to his feet with his hands in the air, silent but waiting for the moment when he could celebrate.
But that moment never came.

The minutes after the blow were a blur. Henry felt numb, sick and angry all at once. He was crying but the tears never formed on his cheeks. He was screaming but the words never left his lips. Evie was long gone, racing towards Dante's body as fast as she could- which meant leaping over several people and a fence.

Henry followed, wanting to look after her and to be near Dante in his last moments. There was no mistaking his death, the blood had seeped into nearly all the sand in the arena. The mess turned Henry's stomach.
As he reached the last fence, Henry pulled out his hidden blades, fury burning in every feature he was going to kill that filthy prince. He would pay.
But Henry was restrained by two heavily armoured guards. He cursed as he watched Evie enter and cling to the limp body of her former lover as easily as the prince himself would have done. It made him even more furious, but no matter how much he struggled he couldn't get away.

Finally the tears broke free and Henry hung limp from the mens arms. No, no no!

[Evie Perroy]

Evie was in her own little world and barely aware of anything going on around her. She squeezed Dante's fingers tightly.

It was Henry's voice that made her slowly lift her head to see what was happening. He was restrained by two guards and left hanging between them in a hopeless way. Evie knew exactly how he felt. A strong hand placed itself on her arm, trying to pull her away. She heard her name being spoken. It was the Prince's voice. She could taste the tang of blood in her mouth.

She pulled forward back toward Dante, fresh tears running down her cheeks, not able to bring herself to look at Arthur.
"Don't touch me, don't touch him... Don't let them touch me." she babbled, gripping onto Dante again, prepared to snap at anyone who attempted to pull her away.

[Prince Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur winced as Evie snapped at him, and jumped back a step. He was at a complete loss for words and for actions for the poor girl was delirious with grief but they had to stop people from looking and fast, because the crowd was becoming a frenzied mob.

"Get everyone out now!" Arthur hissed at his personal guard, who stood uneasy around Evie- unsure whether to leave her be, or drag her kicking and screaming away. They obeyed immediately, happy to be able to get away fromt he mad girl. It took some time but eventually the crowd was gone and Arthur approached silently.

"Evie." He began finally. They had been kneeling on opposite sides of Dante for minutes, Evie crying into the folds of his shirt and Arthur watching and waiting for the right time to speak.
"Nothing I say will ever make up for what i have done today. I'm so sorry."

[Henry Renold]

Henry was pushed out of the arena with the rest of the spectators. They were all buzzing with the excitement of having just watched a man die. Henry was disgusted, he could barely believe humans could be so cold hearted and these were mainly nobles! He shuffled down the street, heading out towards the countryside and Avalon. He couldn't face anyone yet, especially in the places he and Dante used to frequent.

"He deserved to die anyway!" Said a particularly arrogant teenage noble, showing off to all of his friends and anyone else who might be within earshot. "Low's should all be put down. Filthy scum..."
That was enough to cause Henry to snap. With one swift movement he had the youth up against the wall, legs dangling down, much like he had been held by the guards. Only Henry had a blade to his throat.
"Deserve to die do we?" Henry hissed, angry spittle hitting the boys face. "I think you'll find its people like you who are the scum of the earth." He spat directly into the boys face and dropped him into the gutter where he sat coughing and spluttering.

Henry clicked his hidden blades back into his sleeves and raced off into another street, tears were flowing freely again and he didn't want anyone to see.

[Veryan Lithônion]

As the fight developed Veryan's body became more and more tense and his mind oppressed him for he did not want any of them to die in this duel, in fact though he respected the reasons of both contestants, he could not believe why any of them would find it necessary to challenge each other over something as precious as life was. He sighed in sorrow as he watched two dear friends of his hurt each other mercilessly as if ruled by hate two powerful lions fought over the domains of the pack or the well deserved meal.

People had come to this event like anyone would to hear a scop sing a Lay of old or even songs of the rulers of far off lands. They did not hold dear any of the two persons fighting to survive and regain honour; compared to them Veyan's heart sank with every bit of this encounter fearing the worse. How could someone suffer so much for the fatal doom of a friend? It was as if they had been friends for countless years, even though some time has passed, it was shocking the speed with which people grew fond of others.

From time to time he would turn to look at Evie and Henry and could see the same affliction in their eyes, if not more... The wood on the fence cracked as Veryan's grip tightened causing him minor scratches that reminded himself he was alive and watching a horrid spectacle. Many times he felt like slapping every single person i the audience to remind them that two human beings were fighting each other and not two mere living things, life was just so important!

True, Veryan made sure to work for a long time on a chain-mail that would protect Dante more than any other and be light at the same time for the man was swift and cunning. But somehow at the sight of such encounter he was beginning to fear it might not be effective. He did not doubt his abilities but perhaps he should have given that artefact magical abilities or something, after all Veryan was a wizard too and Dante knew this by now. He prayed with each step and parry that both would come out of this unharmed. But that is... he only hoped, and what was hope? Just a feeling...

But then...

His eyes opened widely at the sight of Arthur falling on his knees in numb pain and exhaustion, he looked at DAnte as he positioned himself to strike him down, he shook his head and mentally begged Dante not to do this but then... then...

Veryan held forth on the fence and then jumped off the moment Arthur stabbed Dante and as he did so Veryan screamed, "Arthur... no!" But then, as a guard saw him he slapped him hard with his iron-gloved hand and said, "How dare you speak such to the young Prince!" Veryan fell on the ground but slowly recovered from the blow, a bit of blood coming out of his nose as another guard picked him by the neck of his cloths and forcing him to stand up added, "Peasants cannot under any circumstance address Prince Arthur so informally..."

How could he state he was more than a peasant? That he had eventually become a friend to the Prince? Just as he was about to walk toward Evie two more guards blocked his way but then the voice of an elder man, another guard, was heard begins Veryan and as he stood right behind him he said, "Let the poor boy comfort his friend, he has done all of us immense favours and some of them have been the making of our very weapons, a lad like that deserves respect, for who at such young age would ever master blacksmithing as he now does?"

Veryan then noticed that the guards quite irritated moved to let Veryan pass and so with his sleeve he cleaned the blood that had been coming out of his nose and then slowly walked toward Evie. By this time some guards had approached her and tried to remove her, but then Arthur ordered them not to. Blood was all over the place and it was the when looking at such a pitiful and grieving sight Veryan's tears were finally leaving his eyes and falling on his cheeks. He did not look at Arthur, how could he? He was confused, hurt and relieved at the same time, a dear friend of his had been killed by another... Veryan truly hated being in this position and doubted anyone would have liked to be in the same situation.

He felt on his knees next to Evie and looking at his dear mentor and someone he loved like a younger brother he gasped to swallow his own sobs and then felt his own tears falling down. He then slowly placed his hands on Evie's shoulders and pulled her so he could bring her the comfort of a friend and embrace her so both could cry silently the agony of their hearts. As he did so he whispered, "Evie, I'm here."

True, Arthur had fought to preserve his life, as any other person would have but Veryan simply could not come to tell him anything or even look his way. He was hurt by what the guards had yelled at him and done to him and at the fact that if he addressed him like a friend the King would be angry at Arthur and would perhaps punish Veryan. Plus, and this could be the greatest reason, he was really angry or upset at what Arthur had just done. Honestly he had expected non of them to even think of killing each other, but then again that was Veryan's silly mind perhaps.

[Evie Perroy]

Shock had been replaced with cold numbness. It no longer hurt to cry, and the tears that fell from Evie's eyes fell steadily without her chest shuddering. She knelt upright beside Dante, her fingers still linked through his. The Prince spoke her name, kneeling opposite. Evie's eyes strayed from his face to his wounded shoulder, and then back again.

"Nothing I say will ever make up for what I have done today. I'm so sorry."

Evie wasn't sure how to reply to Arthur. She didn't agree with Dante's reasons behind fighting the Prince, but how could she be civil to her boyfriend's murderer? Dante was the only man she had ever let her guard down enough to love; she had even allowed herself to entertain thoughts of marriage... And yet, Arthur didn't have to agree to fight Dante man to man. He was the Prince; he could've had him killed behind closed doors. Dante was... had been, an extremely talented fighter, but there was no way he could have fought off the entire army.
Although she was thinking more clearly, Evie didn't trust herself to voice these thoughts.

"He would have killed you." she stated, her voice small and tired. "I don't blame you, but that doesn't mean I don't hate you." There was no malice in her voice, just sadness. She looked down into her lap; her white dress was now a pinky red. Blood was everywhere.

Evie felt two hands on her shoulder, but had no energy left to put up a fight or shrug them off. She turned to look at the boy who spoke her name, but whose face she didn't recognise. Very slowly, she kissed the back of Dante's hand, then placed it on the ground.

"I won't be at the training grounds for a while." Her voice wavered as she addressed Arthur. She faced the stranger who helped her to her feet. He didn't look like one of Arthur's men, or one of the Brotherhood. That was good. "I want to leave." she told him, and with one final glance at Dante's body; she allowed Veryan to lead her away.

[Prince Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur felt tears prick his eyes at Evie's words, which made him feel worse, not better. It would have been better if she had gotten angry, yelled or screamed at him. He knew it was what he deserved and at least screaming meant he knew what she was feeling.
He didn't pity her, he was just ashamed that he could have hurt her so deeply. The day that he thought Evie was pregnant seemed so far away.

As she left he looked down at Dante's body. Laying limp and drained of colour- if you ignored the blood.

"Take him to the castle morgue. I expect there will be a funeral."

Arthur took one last look before heading back to his room for a long bath.

~Fin~