I just thought I would share this little story I wrote a while ago as I have noticed that there have been alot of debates on essentially human reform, gender bias, and homosexuality and I thought that some may enjoy it.

It's a story of a young girl who dreams of being a Knight of The Round Table, contexted from actual places/people from Malory's Le Morte D' Arthur, and styled similarily to the new English translations. If it seems short or hasty, its because I had a parameter I had to write within for a contest.


The Corset Knight




Brenna of Cornwall rose early that morning, and with great care to not wake her

family lowered herself out her bedroom window to a shrub bellow. Once on the ground

she hurried herself to the estate armoury where she met the armour-smith's son

Brandon. He looked sour, and was clearly beginning to regret his decision to let Brenna

wear his armour and participate in King Mark's tournament of lances later in the

afternoon. Brenna afraid Brandon would change his mind, even though she paid him

handsomely from her family treasury to lend her the armour began to hurriedly don the

boys armour.

“Help me with this strap, I can't fasten it on my own!” Brenna exclaimed to Brandon.

“You owe me for this Brenna, and if you're caught I had nothing to do with it.”

“I've paid you well enough for this favour, and perhaps when I get home tomorrow I will

consider taking that walk through the gardens with you” said Brenna with a hint of a

wink. Brandon had always been in love with Brenna since he was a little boy, however in

order to impress her family he needed to gain knighthood before Brenna's father would

even consider the courtship. Brenna well aware of Brandon's feelings would periodically

use them to her advantage. Brenna wasn't like the other women on the estate, she

dressed plainly when her mother would let her get away with it, and she was wild and

disobedient, play fighting with her brothers, and caught on too numerous occasions

training in the yard with sword and shields. Her mother and father threatened to send her

away to King Mark's court as a handmaiden for Iseult the Fair to teach her to be a lady,

but they could not bare to send away their only loving daughter. Brenna being a clever

girl knew that Brandon had to accompany her to King Mark's court because her family

would be able to deduct immediately her whereabouts if they saw that Brandon's armour

was gone while he remained at home. Brandon, the obedient puppy that he was quickly

agreed to be Brenna's squire for the afternoon. The two of them, set out the back

entrance and began the short journey to King Mark's castle.

---

It was sweltering inside Brenna's plate mail under the angry sun, but she didn't

seem to mind. She had dreamed of being a knight since she started dreaming and was

filled with elation at the thought of proving herself in the tournament. Brandon was

sweating more than Brenna, but his sweat was pouring out of his nerves, as he was

dreadfully afraid Brenna would fall to harm in the tournament or that they would be caught

in their little farce.

“Brenna maybe this isn't such a good idea, what if you're hurt?”

“Don't be silly, I'm just as good as any knight at King Marks court, except maybe Sir

Tristram.”

“Silly Brenna, you're not a knight, you're a girl in over-sized armour with a bloated head.

What are you going to do if you're matched up against Sir Tristram?”

Brenna hadn't considered fighting the greatest knight in all the realm, and it sent a shiver

of excitement down her spine.

“Well, I'll just have to do my best to beat him, or score some points off of him at least”

she replied coolly.

The two arrived at King Mark's court just in time for the tournament. There were

great tents, and fires with roasting meat, and serving girls in cotton dresses handing out

mugs of mead to patrons. The crowd was eager today because Sir Tristram, a favourite

at court and tournaments was expected to enlist. Brenna was very careful here not to

sound too girlish as she spoke to the lists. A gruff old tournament organizer took her

name down as Sir Brandon. Meanwhile the true Brandon, her squire had also been

registered as Brandon, Sir Brandon's squire. They were to be then for the rest of the

tournament known as Brandon and Brandon. Brenna was matched up first against Sir

Lamerok, a fine knight and a favourite at King Mark's court. She was nervous, she hadn't

expected so many accomplished knights to be present. She had never seen such a

vivacious crowd either, or had she? The perspective change gave her a greater

appreciation for the amount of pressure is placed on the performing knights.

Brenna who was tall for a girl stood six feet tall, and didn't appear out of place besides the

fact that even in plate armour she looked dangerously thin for a man. Many of the

tournament organizers approached her, asking her if she was sure she was in good

health to fight, but she only nodded and gave her most manly voice possible that she was

fit and ready to compete. Even the spectators noticed how thin the challenger Brandon

was. Isuelt who had joined King Mark at his spectator booth to see Sir Tristram perform

also noticed how thin this new Brandon fellow appeared to be.

Brenna's turn to fight was up. Brandon handed her his lance, and checked to make

sure his sword he was lending her wasn't sticking in the sheath.

“Brenna will you wear my favour for this match?” Brandon asked.

“Certainly not, what if someone sees you tie it on the lance? They shall think us queer!”

Brenna seethed in a violent whisper. Brenna trotted off to the jousting pit and rode up to

the center to meet her opponent Sir Lamerok in sportsmanly gesture. She hoped King

Mark would notice her grace through this gesture. Brenna's mare snorted and pawed the

dust eager to proceed down the line, and Brenna matched her anticipation as sweat

trickled down her brow. The horn sounded and it was time to begin. Brenna urged the

mare down the line, galloping hard, as the space between herself and Sir Lamerok

narrowed she braced her shield and aimed her lance right bellow Sir Lamerok's gorget

and hit him with the point of her lance right on the top of his chest. Brenna had learned

from play fighting with the boys that men, unlike women have a very centric point of

gravity, hit them low or high enough and they may loose their balance very easily.

Brenna smiled as Sir Lamerok flew backwards from his horse and rolled twice across the

dirt. Only once more did Brenna need to unhorse him and she would move up on the

lists. The second round against Sir Lamerok resulted the same as the first, but the third

round Sir Lamerok shifted in the saddle, causing Brenna's lance to only jar him slightly

and chip some paint off his painted sigil on his armour. Brenna however, fast and agile

moved in her saddle to catch the blow of Sir Lamerok's lance with her shield, shattering

the lance into a hundred pieces. Brenna was filled with excitement but she gracefully

complimented her opponent and thanked them for the exhilarating joust.

“You joust well for such a skinny lad! But how are you with your sword, boy?” Sir

Lamerok shouted, abashed that he was unhorsed by such an unassuming man.

“Just as well as I ride, even though you've been beaten fairly I will honour you since you're

such an esteemed knight and enter melee combat with you” Brenna called back with as

much grace as her ego could muster. Brenna was incredibly fast and agile, which

pleased the crowd immensely as knights tend to be slow and bulky in the melee which

makes viewing rather boring. Sir Lamerok lined up against her, and swung his heavy

sword at Brenna hard, but he was too slow for her snake like reflexes. She dodged all of

his strikes, or glanced them away from her core with her tiny shield strapped to her left

wrist. Sir Lamerok however ate every one of Brenna's blows she dealt him, and there

where many because she was very fast, striking like a cobra. Sir Lamerok's shield was

too heavy to lift in time to deflect the quick attacks, which didn't hit very hard, but in rapid

succession quickly wore out Sir Lamerok and he yielded. King Mark and Iseult were

astonished by Brenna and called out to her “young boy, come over and kneel before your

king as I would grant you knighthood right now for besting Sir Lamerok, surely you wont

deny me your skill at my court!”

“As King Mark commands I would gladly receive the title” replied Brenna proudly.

Brenna knelt before King Mark and received his honours, and was announced later that

knight at the banquet as Sir Brandon, but in their cups many people were joking that

perhaps they should share with Sir Brandon their meals or were sneering Sir Brandon the

skinny. Brenna was glad for her plain features as she was not permitted to wear her helm

or her suit of plate to the table. Her figure was well hidden under her loose belted tunic,

pants, and riding boots. Brenna only needed to pull her hair back into a neat braid at the

nape of her neck and she fit the part of a young man very well since no one in their right

mine would doubt that anything less than a man could have rode so well or fought so hard

in the tournament that day. Ignoring Sir Brandon's obvious youth and softness Queen

Isuelt became enamoured with him. Brenna felt her gaze, and it made her sick. Brenna

never considered that success in the tournament would warrant female attention. A

serving maid handed Brenna a hand written note and as Brenna read it, she realized it

was from Iseult and that it was a letter of admiration. Iseult begged Brenna to meet her

after the banquet under the moonlight, by the well in the garden. Brenna's stomach

roiled at the thought of meeting this woman simply to further her political gain at court,

but she knew she had to meet Isuelt as Sir Brandon and turn her down, perhaps profess

love and devotion for another. Brenna looked up quickly to see Iseult was still staring at

her intently. Brenna looked about for Brandon, but the squires were not permitted at the

high table, and she couldn't find his face amongst any of the nobles or more common folk

in the large dining hall.

Brenna who had never drank so much mead in all her life began to ask for leave to

her new room at the castle which King Mark himself had so generously provided her but

King Mark stopped her and began to speak: “Sir Brandon, although you have not fought

Sir Tristram yet as both of you were weary from the tournament, I should think that if you

do well against him tomorrow in the joust and melee you will be further proof that Cornwall

has the greatest knights. I would like to send you to Camelot to prove yourself through

quest to King Arthur and become a member of the Round table. Would this please you?”

“I am your knight to command but there would be no greater honour than proving our

lands worthy by becoming a Knight of the Round Table. And perhaps then I could pursue

my dream, and quest for the Holy Grail” quipped Brenna.

---

Brenna was pink with glee head to toe, both from the excitement and the mead as

she took her leave from the banquet hall. She made exit through a side gate into the

gardens where she was asked to meet with Iseult. Iseult entered the gardens quickly

after, and with a graceful stride approached Brenna and placed her hand on Brenna's

arm.

“Blessed evening my Lady” Brenna muttered in a ball of nerves.
“
Yes, a wonderful evening to end a wonderful day. Sir Brandon, have you considered my

offer?” Asked Isuelt. In fact, Brenna had griped over Isuelt's offer since she received the

note, and she wanted nothing more than to run and scream in fear, but she knew she had

to gallantly turn the lady down to make a good impression. Just as Brenna opened her

lips to speak Iseult leaned in for a kiss. Brenna's reflexes were fast as usual, and she

dodged the unwanted assault.

“No no, I'm sorry my Lady I cannot accept your offer my heart belongs to another, and I

mean no disrespect to King Mark or Sir Tristram who are both known to love you dearly”

Brenna replied almost as quickly as she had dodged the kiss. Heart broken Iseult wept

and both retreated to their quarters for the evening.

Meanwhile Brandon, full of grief overhearing from the squires table that Brenna may

leave for Camelot the next day, and surely leave his presence forever began to tamper

with his armour that he was lending to Brenna. Hi smiled away tears as he pictures

Brenna's armour fall off during her jousting match with Sir Tristram the next day. The

crowd would roar with laughter at the sight of a skinny girl in her undergarments on a

horse, holding a shield and lance he chuckled to himself. And so Brandon worked long

into the night weakening the armour at it's fastening points so that after the jar of a lance

it would surely break loose and fall to the ground.

Brenna woke early that day, as usual and descended the levels of the castle to the

courtyard with a proud gait. Today she would test her might against Sir Tristram, the

greatest knight that ever lived, besides Sir Lancelot of course. Brandon was extra

cheerful as he helped Brenna into her armour, unlike the day before.

“You look unusually happy Brandon, what's so good this morning?” asked Brenna.

“Oh nothing, I just really like the corset you've chosen to wear today.”

Brenna looked down at the light pink and floral embroidered corset, and matching

undergarments. She probably should have packed something plainer but because of her

mothers willful enforcement of femininity she really didn't have much choice. She then

considered herself lucky that no one else barged into her dressing tent to see her in it.

Brenna and Brandon left the tent and headed for the jousting grounds where they were to

meet King Mark and his court and Sir Tristram. Iseult and Tristram looked wrought with

anger, Brenna feared that perhaps Iseult angered by her rejection reversed the story on

her and told Tristram that Sir Brandon had attempted to seduce her in the courtyard the

night before. Brenna hoped that Tristram didn't fight with more vigor when he was angry.

“Sir Tristram it is an honour and pleasure” greeted Brenna.

“Aye, and to you Sir Brandon. I've heard so much about you and that you fought

excellently yesturday, hopefully you've saved some strength for me today since I have

beated Sir Lamerok many times.” Gloated Sir Tristram.

Brenna mounted her mare at the end of the jousting grounds, and when the horn

sounded she tightened the grip on her reins and urged the mare down the jousting line

with a violent kick. The mare jolted forward, causing Brandon's tampering to prematurely

loosen and with the all the clunking and clanging of the armour pieces crashing together

with each jolt of the mare the plate flung apart and hit the dust with a deafening bang that

sounded much like a stack of pots and pans falling from their keeping places onto a hard

stone floor. Completely naked aside from the very womanly corset which highlighted all

to well that she was in fact a girl Brenna continued to shorten the distance between her

and Sir Tristram. She reined the horse hard, trying to stop and alter her course, but

everything happened too quickly for Brenna and Sir Tristram to react and his lance

pierced through her stomach making two round bloody holes: one on the way in, and one

on the way out. Flung from her horse Brenna hit the ground with a dead thud. Bleeding

and unable to move Brenna cried out in pain. The spectators, King Mark, Iseult, and

Tristram were in utter shock. Never before had anyone seen a woman fight, or a ride a

horse in such a manner, and none surely had seen a woman skewered off the back of a

horse with a lance. Iseult realizing she had attempted to bed a woman fainted. Many in

the crowd were sick from the violence and the blood. Women in the crowd weeped to see

that Sir Tristram had killed a woman. Brandon, crying warm tears was running for his

life. When the whirl of confusion died down King Mark addressed everyone that had

witnessed the spectacle: “Sir Tristram, I, or any of us here present were deceived by this

woman. She was probably a sorcerer to be able to fool us so completely and therefor Sir

Tristram has done no wrong. Her armour clearly was not up to the task, and her death

was purely accidental. If anyone knows the identity of this young girl, please come

forward to me.” But the only person who knew that she was Brenna, was now on his

horse and riding for his life back to his home.

Brandon did not ride far, before becoming overwhelmed with grief. He had murdered

his love, and in his pain he cut into his own heart with his dagger and died weeping

beside a low branched willow tree. Both Brandon and Brenna were forgotten, and their

family never learned of their fate.

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Don't really get it cuz I never saw that show/book, but I enjoy reading, but not writing fanfiction. it kinda...embaresses me to say I've thought of writing it, let along reading it. But it's anenjoyable time pass.

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You shouldn't be embarassed, I won 250$ for the edited version of that short story, which is not PG-13 so I won't post it, but still

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That's great! You're a talented writer
I'm embarressed about fanfiction, not writing in general; I share stories, just not FF But thanks for the encouragement.

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