Upon rounding up the scene and checking the take through the cameras, Ivelia gestured with a thumbs up;
"That, was perfect!"
"Good job, everyone! Let’s take five, then we move on to the next scene."
Ivelia expected the usual hustle and bustle from the set following her orders.
However, even she hadn’t expected to find a good part of the crew and her actors notably shaken to the core by the scene.
Niall was still standing in position, the longsword lowering slowly to his side as an almost otherworldly tingle washed over his entire being.
Emily was quietly crying on the other end of the gorge.
David’s eyes were reddened as he let out a deep, poignant sigh.
And the crew members that had been so moved by their performance?
They were frozen in a mix of dazed awe and poignancy, each of them noticeably shaken by Niall’s delivery of the speech.
A few seconds after though, they gradually snapped out of it.
Loosening his grip slowly over the hilt of the longsword, the embers of Julien’s unwavering loyalty finally leaving him, Niall heaved a deep, cathartic sigh.
How long had it been since he’d truly felt this?
Since he’d genuinely felt like he’d touched on the depths of a fictional character and brought them to life?
Too long. It had been way too long.
Acting had been such a crucial part of his life. So much that he had ran away from home just to chase his dreams of becoming an actor.
And all his career, including before his regression, he’d chased that feeling.
That singular addicting drug.
That undeniable poignancy that came with knowing you were either on the verge of creating something truly memorable or that you actually did.
A feeling he’d believed he had lost, but was slowly beginning to realize that he never truly had.
He’d just been unfortunate enough to never get the chance to reexperience it with his career grinding to a halt.
Seeing the state her actors were in, Ivelia let out a small sigh, an understanding smile settling on her features as she declared;
"Let’s take a thirty-minute break. We’ll shoot the next scene after."
...
...
...
Thirty minutes later, Niall, the crew and his fellow actors had gotten their shit together.
Now, they were actively focused on making final checks before the next shoot began.
Following up from Mordred’s knights and the traitorous duke himself bursting into the clearing, a five-minute fight scene would play out.
Once again, Julien would be taking center stage, fighting to defend the assailants from reaching the rope bridge.
It was also the scene that he would die, much to the devastation of the princess who could only watch helplessly from the other end of the gorge.
But more than that, it was equally the scene where all of the fight choreography and sword training Niall had learnt would be put to the test.
"Niall, are you sure you can handle it?" Ivelia asked of him, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
"There’s a stunt double who can take your place for most of the scene, and you’ll simply handle the last half," she pushed a bit more.
Granted he had run through the scene the day before with the stunt crew and the fight choreographers, some part of Ivelia wanted to ensure that he was certain of his decision.
Still, if Niall could handle it, it would amplify the scene and make the take that much cleaner without constant camera cuts in between.
"Trust me, I can handle it." Niall assured her with a curt nod, his expression resolute as he patted gently on the blood bag in the chest of his tunic.
Given how exceptionally well he’d been doing since the very first day they’d begun shooting, the director chose to trust him.
With a small pat on his back, she remarked;
"Alright then,"
Moving towards her spot on the sidelines, Ivelia then gestured to Gareth and the stuntmen whom would be equally involved in the scene.
Reciprocating her thumbs up, the director nodded once more and did the same for the actors on the other side of the gorge.
With a similar gesture of approving thumbs on their end, Ivelia then called out;
"Slate,"
"The Promised Queen. Act 2. Scene 8. Take 1." the clapperloader called out, the slate snapping shut as it echoed through the clearing.
"Action!"
Without glancing backwards even once, Julien stood his ground as the first of the enemy knights rushed in.
In a single, clean diagonal strike that was faster than the knight could register, Julien’s longsword cleaved through his neck.
The knight in question staggered backwards, gurgling to death as his hands futilely tried to stem the spray of blood.
Not a moment wasted, three more knights rushed in on him.
Steel was poised to meet steel as the first of the three lunged with a battle cry, an opportunity the stoic knight exploited by slightly pivoting sideways and shifting his back foot an inch behind him.
The knight overextended his thrust, and Julien caught the exact moment his balance teetered off.
Ruthlessly, the stoic knight stepped in, narrowly evading the strike as he drove in with a devastating thrust!
The weapon punched through the man’s gut, and Julien wasted no movement in pushing him onto the oncoming two.
Disrupted by the dead mass falling towards them, the duo was forced to sidestep lest their field of view be obscured.
Julien spared them no opportunity though.
Swiping the soil with his longsword, he sprayed dirt in a wide arc, effectively blinding them for the briefest of moments.
This was a life and death battle, one that deemed chivalry useless.
Taking advantage of their disorientation, he delivered a fatal strike to the closest of the two, the longsword piercing through his heart.
Jerking out the blood-soaked weapon, he lashed out in a forward crescent arc, the dull whistle of the steel slicing against and through the third knight’s torso.
Two dull thuds met the ground, the trio down in a matter of minutes.
Unfortunately for Julien, he wasn’t the only one playing dirty.
Using one of the fallen knights as cover, Mordred charged through, taking advantage of Julien’s blind spot as he plunged the sword towards the stoic knight’s chest.
Knowing fully well he couldn’t move too far from his spot, lest he allow their assailants an avenue to access the bridge, Julien stood his ground and tried deflecting with a parry.
Unfortunately, it was too late.
The sword burst through his chest with a sickening squelch, leaving him momentarily frozen.
Blood spurting through his lips, another equally soaking through his tunic, Julien willed himself to equally plunge his in with a deafening roar...
...only for Mordred to drive his blade in further.
Julien’s strike died before it could land, the sword slipping from his grasp as the strength left him.
As the stoic knight’s sword clattered to the ground, the life fading from his eyes, he caught the slightest sound of his Queen screaming his name in raw agony from the other end of the gorge.
Wrenching out the blade from Julien’s body, watching him stagger backwards, Mordred spat coldly;
"Blame yourself for choosing the wrong side, Julien."
Yet, for the stoic knight who barely registered what the traitor said, he slowly staggered around to face the other end of the gorge with the little strength left in him.
Seeing they had all successfully made it over to the other side, his gaze soon found the Vice-Captain’s.
For a brief moment, everything unspoken passed between them and Uther understood.
Without hesitation, he rushed forward and cut the rope bridge.
The structure gave way with a violent snap, collapsing into the gorge below and cutting off any path forward.
Igraine’s cries rang out, raw and desperate as she struggled against the knights holding her back from fighting to reach him.
Slowly, Julien’s eyes found her.
And in that moment, despite everything... he gave her a weak, fading smile.
Then,
A sudden force struck his chest.
It was Mordred’s boot.
The impact sent Julien falling over the edge, his body vanishing into the rapids below.
Mordred stepped forward, peering down briefly with a hateful glare before lifting his gaze once more to gaze at the other end of the gorge.
There, Uther stood, waiting with an equally vindictive glare that promised that this was far from over.
"Cut!"
No sooner had Niall heard that, he pulled himself up onto the ledge, Gareth offering a hand to help him up.
Thanks to the wide, well-secured safety net below, the young actor had landed without issue. Still, he accepted the gesture, and the bulky actor hauled him up with an acknowledging smile.
As for the director;
"And that’s a wrap for the day. Good job, everyone!"
No sooner had the words left her mouth than she added, a genuine smile forming on her lips;
"And a round of applause for Niall. He’s been amazing thus far, and with this, he’s wrapped all his scenes for the film."
The crew erupted into cheers and applause.
As for David and Emily whom were on the other side of the gorge, they both shouted in unison;
"Do the thing!"
Chuckling upon hearing that, Niall obliged to their request with a bow whilst declaring;
"As a familiar bard once said,"
"I can no other answer make but thanks, and thanks, and ever thanks."
To that, the crew erupted into another wave of cheers and applauds.
PS: Announcement Below in the Author’s Notes;