Wow. Yeah if you've read my other stories, you know I'm way in over my head. I've got like 4 stories I'm working on right now. I must be insane. But I can't help it. Inspiration comes when it will. So call me crazy, but did anyone else think that the mullah guy in the Kingdom of Heaven was….attractive? Well I did. Verily much so. Indeedy. So, as of now, I'm thinking that this will turn into some sort of romance between the two. Or something like that. I probably should wait until the Director's cut or the book comes out because apparently there will be more Mullah action in those and maybe they'll even mention his name. But. I. Cant. Resist. Don't hate me. I'm going to try and keep it as realistic as possible seeing as he would most definitely have to be a devout Muslim to be a Mullah. So the story will have some religious factors in it. Wooh. And the movie was completely historically inaccurate and yes, that annoys me. But I've decided to stay true to the movie instead of history. So if you are a history buff and you notice the numerous chronological inaccuracies and what not, just know that it annoys me just as much as it does you. And Christians, Muslims, Jews. Be not offended. I am not prejudiced against any religion so anything you see is just for the sake of writing. And just because I throw one bad Muslim/Christian/Jew in there does not mean I think all M/C/Js are like that. Well. This is probably author suicide, but hey, who cares. And I just cannot wait for some moron to not read this and then leave some flaming comment like "Um actually, in the year lablab" or …"Actually in the book/director's cut his name was suchandsuch."

Maybe I'll go back and change it then. Enjoy mon cheries.

---

My father died barely after noon on a hot day. The undyed linen curtains were blown lazily into the room as a dry wind assailed us. Both of my hands were wrapped around my father's large one. Pale eyes, the color of the desert sand, stared back at me. My mother, French by birth, had been pale compared to the women of this land. Compared to me. And her eyes had been a mesmerizing shade of blue. Mine were like my father's. For a moment I wondered if right then he wished I looked like my mother. So that now in his final moments I might remind him of her.

"Help Jerusalem." My father rasped. His weak breaths barely made his beard shiver

"I will go to the king." I promised. His hand tightened on mine. It was odd to feel his ring on my hand. The seal of our castle fit on my thumb whereas it had always been on my father's pinkie.

"Ava." He said he was suddenly still. His blank eyes stared upwards as another wind blew in. My father was dead. I gently closed his eyes and laid my head on the bed. The vibrant red cloth caught the warm tears that fell heavily from my eyes. I gave no sound to my grief. I knew there were those who would be waiting outside my father's chambers for his death, and I wanted to have this moment to myself.

I kept only a few minutes of his death to myself. Without another tear, I stood up and pressed cool fingertips to my eyelids. I breathed calmly until I knew I would look at least halfway presentable. The dark blue fabric of my dress was wrinkled, and I did the best I could to straighten it out.

I was now the Baroness of Blanchegarde.

"Milady?" Raymond asked gently. I nodded. A few men walked quietly into the room to attend to my father's body. The captain and a few of his soldiers waited with me.

"You have our allegiance." Raymond said bowing his head slightly. His men followed suit and my new responsibilities began to sink it. I was Ava. The ruler of Blanchegarde.

---

And Blanchegarde was actually part of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. Means White Guard. Tell me what you think. Have I finally lost my mind in the romance pairing?