A/N:

I don't own King Arthur, I don't even own the video…

Ooh! Ooh! I do own the plot twists! It's a crossover! First one to name the correct fandom (with a valid reason, no wild guesses) gets written into the story! Any takers?

Setting the Scene:

"Clan's native language."

"Common language."

'Thoughts.'

While some characters do speak Latin in this fic, it has fallen out of common usage in the general population, having been relegated to ceremonial usage in the church, educational institutions and government offices only. (Hey, they're all connected anyway.) Context demands that only wealthy, educated men can read it, much less speak it well… Assume that anything in italics cannot be understood by anyone outside of the clan and you are on about equal footing with them when it comes to deciphering the Latin. If you absolutely insist, I will provide translations, otherwise: let the games begin!

Chapter One – Close Encounters

Britain, Late Summer, 466 AD

"I win!" Liren smirked triumphantly as her friends' horses topped the hill to stand with hers. Unfazed by their race, the four riders all stared at the valley below while their mounts recovered and they waited for the rest of the caravan to catch up. For a moment no one answered as they all stared at the amazing sight before them; as far as their eyes could see, and they could see quite far mind you, a wall stretched across the land. Not just any wall, it dwarfed most of the trees that grew along its length. Figures in red cloaks could be seen pacing along the top and watch fires were tended at regular intervals. Totally out of place in the rugged beauty that was Britannia, Hadrian's Wall was purely Roman. And very impressive.

"Well, unless I am dreaming, this is the great wall we are looking for, and if that is the case, then we are almost home." Satis said quietly, patting the neck of his mount.

"Home?" Sana's voice was wistful as she drank in the thought. "It has been so long since that word has held any meaning for us. Home. Yes. We could be happy here."

"And safe for the most part." Liren smiled at her companion. "I am sure that we can reach some kind of accord with the native people here and be free to live as we please."

"Ever the optimist, Lin—"

"Liren!" Sana hissed, cutting him off. "Never use that name out here!"

"No one can understand our words…" Satis began again, but Sana's look stopped him from finishing his thought.

"You never know who understands what in a strange place, Satis, it is best to be on your guard no matter how safe you feel."

"Wise words, sister." Menno commented, reigning in his horse next to the fourth companion and tugging on her braid.

"Do you never tire of that?" Liren asked, eyebrow peaked at his display.

"Tire of what? Showing my affection to my beautiful sister or sneaking up on your secret councils?"

"I was not speaking to you, but since you brought it up, why do you insist on 'sneaking up' on us? I would have thought you more mature than that. Honestly Isolde, how do you deal with the incongruity that is your brother?" she asked, neatly shutting him out of the conversation by turning her back to her friend whose only response was laughter.

In the woods not far away Bors and Lancelot were having a heated discussion over the paternity of newly born little Ten, much to the amusement of most of their fellow knights who were field dressing a stag. So it was not that odd when only Dagonet noticed Tristan's head tilt to the side suddenly before he nudged his horse in the direction of the ridge.

"What is it?" he asked, quietly coming to stand at the scout's side.

"Voices." Was the only reply he received, but that was not unusual either.

"You check it out, I'll alert Arthur."

They nodded to each other and went their separate ways.

By the time Tristan returned the hunting party was silent, the deer carcass packed away in a tree and all signs of their activities had been erased.

"What did you find?" Arthur asked gravely.

"Small band, about a dozen men and women, on the ridge staking out the wall and settlements."

"Woads?" Lancelot suggested.

"No paint and they are all mounted. Plus two drawn carts."

"Gypsies?" Gwain guessed.

"Too fair skinned, no bright colors."

"Armed?" Dagonet asked.

"Archers and swordsmen, all."

"All?" Galahad sputtered.

"All."

"It could be a show of force." Arthur mused. "But then who are they trying to intimidate? And why? Knights?" He asked, knowing what their reactions would be.

"I like riddles." Bors said, mounting his horse.

"Really? I thought they made your head hurt." Lancelot snickered, loosening his twin blades and ducking Bors' fist.

"It has been a while since I have seen a 'fair' maiden, Gwain."

"You may see some soon, Galahad, but I don't think they'd let you touch."

Dagonet and Tristan just caught Arthur's eye and turned their horses in the direction of the ridge. Arthur smirked. 'And here I thought this day was going to be boring.'

"We have company." Fides murmured, eyes flicking quickly in the direction of the trees and back.

"I know. Call everyone together and then we shall go see what they want." Viator ordered, never looking away from the wall below. When the group was more subdued he turned his horse and Fides followed him toward the forest eaves.

"They spotted us, Arthur. What do you want to do?"

"It looks like they want to talk. Lance, you're with me. The rest of you, hang back until I call."

Everyone was tense as the four warriors met halfway between the two groups. The strangers halted their horses and dismounted, the dark-haired one holding the horses leads while the silver-haired one stepped forward, open hands spread to show his lack of weapons. In return Arthur dismounted and met him while Lancelot held their horses a few feet away.

"Greetings, commander." The stranger said, placing his right hand over his heart and inclining his head in respect. "I am Viator and I speak for my people."

"Greetings Viator," Arthur returned the gesture, "I am Arthur Castus and I speak for the Knights of Hadrian's Wall. It is our job to patrol this area, so naturally we are curious as to your presence here."

"I thought you might." The man smiled a little. "It is providential that we have met, then, for, among other things, we carry a letter for one Arthur Castus stationed on the Wall."

"Oh? And what other things have brought you to the edge of Rome's influence?"

"That is a long story. Suffice it to say that my friends and I have satisfied our tour of duty in the Roman army and have gathered all that remain of our kin to settle the land grants we were given. Fortunately they are adjacent to each other. When another of our many friends discovered our destination, he requested that we deliver a personal letter along our way. Here we are. Here you are. And all the papers are in the wagon."

"You seem heavily armed for settlers." Lancelot muttered.

"It is a long journey from Rome to Britain and even settlers must be on guard." The dark-haired man said evenly.

Arthur blinked and studied the man standing 15 feet away. "You must forgive my friend's suspicion. He has learned caution during his years here."

"A worthy lesson for any warrior." Viator replied, eyeing his second. "As I have said, this is all that is left of our clan. Rome extracts much from her soldiers and their families. We would protect what is left to us even if that means that our women must go about armed."

"Caution indeed." Arthur was beginning to understand the man's miserly attitude about personal information. No doubt his own knights would behave in such a way if they returned at the end of their service to find only a handful of people left in their own tribes. He glanced up at the sun and then came to a decision. "Well sir, the day is swiftly drawing to a close. We have just come from a successful hunt and I invite you and your people to join us for dinner this night. You may lodge in our hall if you wish and I will assist you where I can in reaching your destination."

"We thank you Arthur Castus and Knights for your generosity. Perhaps we may be of assistance to you in the future." Viator nodded respectfully again.

"I look forward to that. Now, would you do us the honor of allowing my knights and I to escort you to our home?"

"The honor would be ours."

Arthur and Viator clasped forearms and then turned back to mount up. Sighs were audible all around as the warriors returned to their respective people and explained the situation. Some of the clan members were visibly relieved and eager to finish their journey while the knights were still cautious. Tristan led them all back to the clearing to finish dressing the stag, a task that went relatively quickly under the nimble fingers of the clanswomen.

"Look at how fast they do that! You can barely see their knives move." Galahad exclaimed.

"I told you that you wouldn't be able to touch…" Gwain replied.

Menno and Alan traded glances from their positions across the clearing. Perhaps it was too soon to let down their guard just yet.

Along the way to the wall, Arthur had learned a little more about their guests. Viator, Fides, and Alan had recently completed their terms of compulsory service in the Roman army stationed in Macedonia. They had each been given the customary land grant and chose adjacent parcels on the British frontier. When they returned to collect their families they found only seven members of their tribe remaining after repeated raids and a bout of the plague had devastated their homeland, the location of which no one would say. As the story progressed the knights had become more sober and less cold to the group, each one thinking that it could be them in a year or so. By the time the gates of the settlement passed overhead the whole group had come to a silent truce and relaxed their guards, although not fully.

As always, Jols was there to assist the knights when they returned from a foray, Vannora and her children waited behind the metal gates, and this time there were a couple of kitchen drudges waiting to haul off the meat. The difference was that this time there were more than twice the number of people and horses packed into the courtyard making things a little more chaotic than normal. After the meat had been hustled off to the kitchens and servants were sent to ready suitable accommodations for the guests, things calmed down somewhat.

While the clansmen followed Arthur and Lancelot into the Round Table room to deal with paperwork the women stayed in the courtyard with Jols and the rest of the knights. Somewhat curious himself, Jols attempted to communicate with the newcomers while providing refreshments for the women and their horses. With only simple words and hand gestures it was somewhat cumbersome; added to this was the fact that the women would fall back on Latin when they couldn't translate words into Common. This habit did not endear them to the knights; the more discerning of whom quickly distracted the more hotheaded one by offering to buy him a drink when they were finished. Said hothead went about the normal routines of stabling their horses and stowing gear faster than everyone else and proceeded to drag said wise one down to the pub.

Vannora, however, was undaunted. What was a language barrier when compared to five potential babysitters? She had noted that there were no children in the small group and the longing on the women's faces had not gone unnoticed, either. After her customary greeting with Bors she stepped over to the newcomers and introduced herself.

"Hi. I'm Vannora, but you can call me Van, and these are my kids with Bors over there."

"Sorry. Not much words." was the halting reply.

"Van." She tried again, pointing to herself. "Children, mine with Bors." She motioned to all the kids and then pointed to Bors and herself again. "What's your names?" she smiled, pointing at the women. If the answering smiles were any indication, they understood that just fine.

Liren, being the most outgoing of the bunch, did the honors while Zora and Danica stayed closer to the wagons. Sana was enraptured with baby number Ten so he was quickly entrusted to her keeping. The only stranger unaccounted for was the one that interested Bors' woman the most.

"Who is she?" Van pointed to the woman who had charmed the scout's bird and arrested his attention.

"Isolde. Again with the birds." Liren smirked, nudging her friend to look as well.

"How is she related to you?"

"Menno sister. To belong Marcus house."

"Marcus?"

"Ah. Viator. Marcus…title…for to laugh."

"Marcus is his nickname?"

Hesitant nods.

"Belong how?" Van nervously eyed the woman petting Tristan's hawk and blushing under his silent stare.

"Filiōs Marcī sunt. Add to house." Liren wove her fingers together to form a tight bond. Van's mood shifted from nervous to downright worried.

"What would he have to say about her behavior, then?" she gestured to the couple by the wall. The other women murmured concernedly in their own language.

"Marcus protect. Fierce." Sana said in hushed tones, gently rocking the baby.

"She to remember Marcus of wife to lose, long past. No to desire to lose also. No good." Liren said grimly.

At that moment Jols stepped up to the women and announced that accommodations were ready and they were welcome to wash before dinner. Sana reluctantly handed the baby back to Van while Liren moved across the courtyard to get Isolde's attention, almost dragging her through the door.

"To see Van dinner?" Sana asked as she followed the group inside. Van nodded, deciding to have a long talk with her lover about broaching the subject with Tristan. They weren't going to like this news one bit.

A/N:

I hope you liked my chapter more than Van liked her gossip session… Either way, drop me a line and let me know. Any guesses at the crossover?

Iell Eruo