Dear Readers,

Thank you for taking the time to read this story. It means the world to me! Just a heads up, my posts may begin to slow at this point. I have been fortunate to update the story for you almost every night because I had written a considerable amount before I mustered up enough courage to post. I still have quite a bit to post before I'm at a stalling point, but it takes me some time to edit grammar as well. After this chapter I will try to get something out to you once to twice a week. It depends on how much time I get to write each day (my 1yr old daughter takes up most my time), and how long it takes me to research what I am writing about and piece it together in this little universe I'm adding to. I actually do quite a lot of research regarding geography, methods of the time, characters, ect.

As I said before, I own nothing other than my original characters. The places and names from the movies and of the knights are all not mine (though I do wish a couple of them were!). Like I said, I just get to write the fluff around the greatness. I try as best I can to stick within the historical boundaries of the movie, only manipulating what I must to fit the storyline in my head. I hope you enjoy the bits to come!

Please review for me! I'm dying to know what you think of the storyline and character development!


Chapter 7

Morning came far too soon to the Wall. The purple haze of the sky lit the outlines of the thick curtains framing the window. Dull embers glowed in the hearth where the fire once blazed.

Lancelot slowly came to his senses, turning and feeling for Evony beside him. He smiled a broad, sleepy smile as he felt the warmth of her body and the smoothness of her skin. The emptiness was gone. She had filled it entirely. This was the first morning that Lancelot could remember waking up and feeling truly happy. He wrapped a heavy arm around Evony's frame as she turned into him and cuddled. He kissed her forehead and closed his eyes, dozing in utter contentment.

Evony stirred some moments later, wrapping an arm around his waist and breathing in his manly scent of leather and wood. She remembered the few nights she had spent slumbering in his arms on her way back to the wall. He had held her then as if she would break, maintaining a respectable demeanor as to not tarnish her honor. She smiled, eyes still closed. Her honor had been taken long ago by her own admission to a striking stable boy in a far off land. But the stable boy did not hold a candle to her knight. No, Lancelot was a flame that sparked her own fire. He was the wild thing that mirrored her very soul. He could calm her and encourage her all at the same time. He made her feel she was more than just a useful hand. She was a fighter and a healer, but Lancelot let her be a woman of the highest regard.

She kissed his neck and haphazardly ran her fingers up and down his back. He took a deep breath, stretching sleepy muscles from the night's rest and pulled her closer to him.

"Good morning, my love," he sleepily said into her hair.

"Good morning, my knight," Evony smiled into his broad chest.

"Must we rise so early?" Lancelot groaned as he stretched some more, laying on his back and pulling her into the crook of his arm. He did not want to let go of such a perfect moment. He had been blessed with so few.

"I'm sure that everyone is still sleeping off last night's festivities," Evony told him, "We should have a few more moments of peace."

Evony ran her hand over his muscular chest, tracing every outline of scar and sinew. Lancelot smiled as he took her hand, twining their fingers together over and over. He wanted to give her the world, to offer her every dream and fantasy on a golden platter. She had melted his heart and given him a home. She had filled the void he had felt for the last fifteen years. He was free. He was hers.

Lancelot nuzzled and kissed her forehead again. Evony turned her brown eyes to meet his and kissed his lips gently and fully. Nothing could disturb their happiness this morning.

Galahad stepped out into the morning air and stretched his muscles, letting out a good roar. His head pounded slightly from the previous nights festivities, but it was nothing he wasn't used to.

"Move your arse," Gawain shouldered past him, "You're hogging the doorway!"

Galahad gave his older brother a dirty look and stepped to the side. Gawain looked around the courtyard of the Wall. Citizens were slowly stirring, beginning to resume their morning routines and tidying up from last nights wedding feast. Gawain could smell bread baking from the small tavern across the way. He spotted Bors sitting at one of the burley wooden tables, sharing his breakfast with two babes on his lap.

Gawain and Galahad made their way to join their bald friend, eager to fill their bellies with Vanora's cooking.

"Where's Lancelot? Surely his smug face isn't as hung over as you are?" Gawain joked as Galahad threw him another dirty look. Bors laughed as he scooped a mouthful of runny egg with his bread.

"I have not seen him. Maybe he found a pretty wench to occupy his time," Bors laughed, but knew that Lancelot, for all his misgivings, had never shared a morning with anyone but himself, and usually a grumpy one at that.

"We are due for patrol soon," Galahad reminded them before shoveling the breakfast Vanora had set before him into his eager mouth.

"Well by Gods!" Gawain laughed, pointing a hot cup of mead to an unfamiliar sight across the courtyard.

Bors and Galahad turned and stared, a bit awestruck with what they saw.

Lancelot was laughing, holding Evony close as they walked along the courtyard from the knight's quarters. Pausing, he tenderly took her chin and lifted her lips to his in a parting kiss. As she left his side, she turned to the dumbstruck knights and winked.

Lancelot approached his brothers in arms with a broad grin. They continued to stare at him, trying to comprehend what they had just witnessed. They had seen the handsome knight woo many women in their travels, but never had they seen him say goodbye to one in the morning, or look like a lovesick puppy while doing so!

Bors began to laugh as the curly haired knight sat down at the table next to him. He shooed the two children off his lap and clapped Lancelot on the back, "It looks like you've tamed the Philly!"

"Or she's tamed you!" Gawain laughed at him.

"Another conquest, no doubt," Galahad said bitterly.

Lancelot shook his head, "She is worth more than any conquest."

"Ooooh," Bors and Gawain said in unison.

"So that's it then? The great lover of women leaves a trail of broken hearts!" Bors said with a raised eyebrow.

Lancelot gave a wry grin.

"Well at least that leaves my Vanora safe from your grimy little hands!" Bors remarked with joy and raised his mead cup.

"So how did you do it? Was it your toothy grin or your terrible dance skills? How long before the sands run out and she joins the ranks of your unwanted?" Galahad continued his bitter tone.

"Now, now, little brother, you are disappointed she didn't choose you!" Gawain nudged him on the shoulder.

Lancelot's grin fell as his blood began to boil, "Hold your tongue, brother. She is worthy of more respect and I will have you honor that! We are bound to each other more than you could understand."

"Besides, Gal, that means you finally get all the pretty ladies to yourself!" Bors laughed. Galahad finally cracked a smile and chuckled as Gawain clapped him on the back. He couldn't very well be that jealous. After all, it had been obvious from the start that Lancelot and Evony had shared something more than just friendship. It was only a matter of time till the dark Sarmatian girl and the First Knight would admit their affections.

"Knights," Jols interrupted them as he approached, "Arthur wishes to speak to you at the round table."

"Always when I'm eating!" Bors said, shoveling the last bit of his breakfast in his mouth as he stood.

"Come now, you'd think he would still be in his wedding bed at this hour!" Gawain joked.

Lancelot grabbed a piece of bread off of Galahad's plate and stood, "Arthur is King. He gets no rest until he unites all of Briton. We shall become the Rome he has always wanted."

The last four Sarmatian Knights of Arthur's infantry made their way to the meeting hall. As the great doors opened, the three filed in and took their places at the great round table. The brazier in the center of the room glowed. Arthur sat in his gilded chair, Guinevere at his side.

"Knights," Arthur greeted them and motioned for them to sit down, "I call you this morning to discuss the matter of our standing in this, our new home. You have served me well. I owe you a debt of gratitude for if it were not for your bravery I surely would not be taking breath. And so it is now that I must ask an inevitable question. Will you, as my brothers and my friends, stay?"

Gawain, Galahad, Bors and Lancelot looked across the bare round table and shared a raised eyebrow before bursting into laughter. Arthur looked amused and bewildered.

"Arthur, you bloody bastard, we are free men. If we were going to leave, we would have left your ars to the damn Saxons on Badon Hill!" Lancelot said with a grin.

"Besides, who am I to hand my sons over to the Romans? My life is here with Vanora and our bastards," Bors smiled, "You too, of course."

"Will we have to call you 'My Liege'?" Gawain laughed.

Arthur chuckled, a broad smile forming on his strong jaw. Guinevere laughed. Arthur raised his hand to quiet his unruly knights down.

"No, brothers," he smiled, "I shall and will always remain Arthur. This is the round table, after all. We are all equal men here." Guinevere raised an eyebrow at her husband before he added, "And women."

Jols entered the room and began pouring the men goblets of water.

"I have other matters to discuss with you as well," Arthur's tone became serious, "I have been delaying this for far to long. Brothers, I must address the sad matter of our number. You have done an admirable job working with the Woad warriors to secure the surrounding areas. But I fear that we are not enough to bring forth the People's Britain. Rome has deserted us. The forts along the Wall and throughout the country are left unsecure. We are getting reports from the Picts and the Britons of unrest. We have a great job to do before us. I would like to put up the discussion of adding to our number."

The men sat silent, sharing bleak expressions, waiting for Arthur to continue.

"Merlin has sent word to the tribes. We will be receiving emissaries in two days, pledging their loyalty. I have also sent banner men with caution to the nearest Roman inhabited villages and castellums. I am sure we will find allies there as well," Arthur paused, "What I ask of you men is council for further appointment of our number. You alone know what we face more than any. You alone are my closest friends and have my trust. We must surround ourselves with like minds if we are to succeed. And so I put this to you – what say you to a woman serving at this table as your equal?"

Gawain grinned, "I'd say we have no quarrel with the Queen, if she can stand our fowl mouths."

Gawain, Bors, Galahad, and Lancelot snickered. Guinevere gave a wry smile, "I assure you, gentlemen, your ribald jests have no effect on my ears."

Arthur smiled and lay his hand on that of his queen, "Guinevere goes without question. No, I speak of someone who has proven her worth along side us in battle."

"Evony?" Lancelot raised his head, concern showing in his eyes. He knew she was more than a capable fighter, but after last night's admissions, he couldn't help but feel protective of her.

"Yes, Lancelot, I speak of Evony," Arthur met his gaze, "She made her choice to stand and fight, just like the rest of you. She has risked her life more than once for us. Her skill rivals your own. We need someone who can fight as well as heal. I believe her to be as loyal as you. What say you?"

Gawain looked at Bors before nodding in agreement, "Arthur, she is more than able."

"She's a bloody Amazon, that one!" Bors remarked.

"Aye, I do not mind serving alongside a warrior as her," Galahad grinned, attempting to mimic Lancelot's usual cheekiness.

"Lancelot, you are silent. What say you?" Arthur asked, studying Lancelot's face carefully. He could see the knight's troubled expression.

"Lancelot is afraid to let his lady love join the likes of handsome men such as us!" Galahad jested, "For fear she may not want his affections any longer!"

Lancelot glared angrily at Galahad while Guinevere shared a knowing look with her husband.

"Lancelot?" Arthur asked again.

"She is able, Arthur," Lancelot said with hesitation. He knew that he could not deny Evony the fire in her spirit. He shared the same fire, after all. She had to make her own choice, and whatever it may be, he would have to oblige. "Lady Evony can make her own decision."

"Very well. Jols," Arthur nodded to his attendant.

Jols nodded and opened one of the great doors. In walked Evony, no longer clad in the navy blue gown that Lancelot had left her in. She had traded her fine dress for a pair of brown leather trousers, white tunic, leather vest, arm couplets and leather boots. Her fine long hair was braided to one side. She stood at the door, hands clasped calmly behind her back. The knights stood to greet her, in respect for her gender.

"Lady Evony, thank you for joining us," Arthur greeted her, "Please, sit."

"Thank you, my lord," Evony said, bowing her head slightly, walking round the large table to the seat that Jols was holding out for her. It just so happened to be next to Lancelot. Evony winked at him before sitting, making the dark knight break out in a sly smile.

As Evony sat down, the knights followed suite. Jols poured her a goblet of water before taking his post by the door once more.

"Lady Evony, I have asked you here today to thank you for coming to our aid against the Saxons, and for the aid and goodwill you gave to our dearly departed brother, Dagonet, on our journey back to the Wall. You are most admirable, lady."

Evony gave a small smile, attempting to hide her blush, "You flatter me sir. I did only what I thought right. I fought for those who could not. As you and your brave knights do every day."

Arthur smiled and looked to his company, "Yes, well, that is why we are asking you, my lady, to join us. Your skill is greatly needed, and your presence would be most welcome among friends."

Evony's heart began to race. She looked around the table at the faces of the knights. They were all waiting for a response. Lancelot's gaze was, as always, the most intense that she felt.

"Will you swear your loyalty, Lady Evony, to Britain and it's people? Will you join our round table?" Arthur put the question to her.

Evony looked to Lancelot. His dark eyes held unspoken fears. She knew he was worried about losing her in battle, like he had so many of his brothers in arms. But she knew the fire that burned inside of her heart also burned in his. They were Sarmatian, and they had both been bred for war. She may have been born a woman, but it was in her blood. To deny that she would not fight, which was truly the only useful skill she possessed, was to deny herself.

"I will swear my loyalty, my Lord. I accept your offer," Evony answered carefully as she turned her gaze to Arthur. She could feel Lancelot release the breath he had been holding next to her.

Guinevere smiled as Arthur grinned and raised his chalice, "Welcome, Lady Evony, to the round table."

The knights raised their goblets in a toast. All were happy to have her in their company, but all had a sadness about them. There was no question of their loyalty to Arthur, but to involve a woman in such serious dealings was not their custom. This would be something they must get used to.

Lancelot stared at his dark beauty before sipping from his goblet. Evony had sealed her fate. She may not have been in service to Rome, but she was now in service to a most impossible dream. A United Britain.

"You are upset with my decision?" Evony asked Lancelot as they made their way to the training grounds. Lancelot had not said a word since they had left the meeting hall.

"It is your decision," Lancelot said, his demeanor tense.

"But you are not happy," Evony finished the thought in Lancelot's head that he was not brave enough to say out loud.

"No, I didn't say that," the agitation in Lancelot's voice was apparent.

"Lancelot, I am the daughter of a knight. I was raised on a battlefield, not at a hearth watching my mother mend clothing. You know that this is in my blood, as well as yours," Evony reasoned with him, "If you wanted someone who cared more for tending a home than a sword, then you have made a poor choice in me, sir. But I do not think you would be happy otherwise."

"No, I did not mean to offend you," Lancelot stopped in his tracks and faced Evony, "I would be most happy with you at my side, on or off the battlefield. I just want you to be safe. I don't want to see you get hurt." Lancelot put a hand to Evony's face.

Evony smiled, cupping his hand in hers, "I know, my love, I do not want to see you hurt either. But it is a risk we are well aware of."

Lancelot nodded, his expression softening, and leaned down to place a soft kiss on Evony's lips. As they pulled away, Evony noticed a couple village girls staring at them across the yard.

"Your admirers are staring, sir, and they don't look too happy either!" Evony smiled at him.

Lancelot briefly looked over his shoulder and smiled, placing a protective, muscular arm around Evony's shoulders.

"Let them stare. They are jealous," Lancelot pulled Evony close as they began walking again, "You have something they will never have."

"What is that?" Evony asked.

"Me, my love. You have all of me. That is something that only you will possess for the rest of my days," Lancelot said lovingly.

Evony smiled at him. She already knew that. She felt it in every fiber of her being, in every kiss and caress that she shared with him. This was different that one of his trysts. They belonged together.

"Well then, my knight, let us save our affections for later. For now, I do believe it is time we spar!" Evony eased her way out from Lancelot's arm as they entered the training grounds. She gave him a devious little smile with a flash in her eye as she took position and pulled her sword from her scabbard. The metal flashed in the sunlight.

Lancelot grinned, "My lady, are you sure you want to spar against a knight of the round table? I warn you, I will not go easy on you…."

Evony lunged, wielding the blade with confidence, as Lancelot quickly pulled one of his twin swords from his back. A series of offensive steps met steel with steel till Lancelot held her sword inches from his face with his own.

"Oh, I am sure, dear knight," Evony said through the cross of metal, "And I have no doubt you will test my limits."

Lancelot just grinned at her daring, countering her attack and posing one of his own. By this time, they had caught the attention of the other knights and warriors in training in the yard. The men paused in their sparring matches to watch the scene unfolding. They had never seen Lancelot spar with a woman, let alone one that could most likely rival his own skill.

Evony blocked every swing of Lancelot's sword with ease. She spun to counter his weight and sword pitch and caught out of the corner of her eye Gawain holding a blade for her.

"Here you go, poppet," Gawain called to her, throwing the blade hilt first.

Blocking one more swing from Lancelot's blade, she spun and grasped the hilt of the blade in mid air. The blade was light, it's handle thin enough for her slender hands to hold. The blade was a Roman pugio, at least eleven inches long. Facing Lancelot, she held her sword and dagger at the ready.

Lancelot continued to grin as he pulled his second sword from the scabbard on his back. Taking stance, he waited for Evony to begin her attack. Evony swung the sword in her hand and parried Lancelot's counter swing with the dagger. They danced together like this for what seemed ages, their skill and style blending together in perfect harmony. The men cheered them on, yelling words of encouragement to Evony and mocking Lancelot for good sport. Finally, Evony grew tired of the constant dance. She watched Lancelot's moves carefully as he wielded his blades. When she saw an opening, she took it. As she blocked both blades with her dagger and sword, she dropped to one knee. Before he knew what was happening she swung her leg in a swift round, catching Lancelot by the ankles and landing him flat on his back. She stood, spinning, and dropped onto his chest, her knees pinning his arms helplessly to the ground, her sword pointed inches away from his neck. The men cheered mercilessly.

"Do you give, sir?" Evony asked breathless, a strand of loose hair hanging in her face.

Lancelot stared up at her grinning face, framed by the white sky. He was quite surprised that she had bested him, but then again, he had lied. He had gone just a little easy on her. That was probably his downfall in the end.

"I give, my lady. You have bested me," Lancelot grinned.

As she pulled the sword from his neck and began to stand, Lancelot pulled her in a roll till he leaned over her with one of his own blades to her neck.

"A fair rule, lady. Never underestimate your opponent," Lancelot teased.

"But of course sir," Evony said with a raised eyebrow and motioned for him to look southwards. There she held her dagger at the ready to his manhood.

Lancelot laughed and stood, offering a hand to his ladylove. The men continued to laugh and jest.

"Looks like Arthur made a mistake making you his First Knight! He might fare better to appoint Evony that command!" Bors joked from the sidelines.

"We've taken on an Amazon!" Galahad smiled, "the enemy will never know what hit them!"

Evony smiled as she sheathed her sword and hooked the pugio on her belt.

"Evony! Come," Bors motioned, "We have something for you."

Evony followed the portly knight with Lancelot, Galahad, and Gawain trailing behind. Bors led the group to the stables, opening the great wooden doors and leading them to a back stall. In the stall was a grand warhorse of dapple grey.

"We thought that since you would be joining us, you would need a horse of your own," Bors said, giving the animal a pat on the neck.

Evony stared at the beautiful beast, it's dark brown gaze staring calmly at her.

"But this is…" Evony began.

"Tristan would be proud. And we would be honored," Bors interrupted her, a noticeable sadness entering his eyes.

Evony approached the horse and held her hand out to him. He nuzzled her fingers and met her eyes, the souls of past warriors shining within.

"Perhaps a little of Tristan lurks deep in his heart. He knows what lies ahead. He will protect you," Bors patted the speckled main.

Evony smiled at the man. It was a little annoying, but also heart warming to think that these knights, such hard and war torn men, would care for her safety so much.

"What is his name?" Evony asked.

"Cadogan," Lancelot answered behind her.

"Cadogan," Evony repeated, petting the horse's muzzle, "If he will have me, I will be glad to ride him."

As if in response, the horse bowed his head and took a step toward Evony.

"I'd say that was a yes," Gawain grinned from the side of the stall.

Evony laughed as the horse began to nuzzle her hands and neck, "I would say so!"