Note: Some of this is based on the movie novelization. I couldn't get a good sense of time passing from the movie, so I stole my sister's book. Also, I used the transcrpit from Fallen Knights, and feel obliged to thank whoever put it together (it's a cool site, you should check it out)

Another Note: (mostly for the benefit of Michaela90) Thanks for you insight. I know a little about the Morgan of King Arthur mythology, althought not enough to base my character upon her. If she's really similar, then that's an accident. Anyway, judging by what I know of Morgan, she's quite different from mine, so hopefully my Morgan ends up being a whole different character. I think she will. I guess it probably wasn't a good idea to name her after her, but I like the name, and I liked it in context, so...yeah. Please give me your thoughts on the subject after these next two chapters.

Chapter Two

Morgan

We set off as soon as we were ready. Jols came along of course, as did Horton, a sniveling little Roman man who's only redeeming quality was that he didn't make any comments about me and my reputation. Not something you can say for most Romans.

---

During the next few days we stopped only to water the horses and let them rest. We rode at a fast pace, soon putting much distance between us and the wall. It was cold and rainy. All in all, it was a thoroughly miserable time.

"It's too damn cold," I muttered, shivering and drawing my cloak tighter around myself.

"You're the one who insisted on coming," Arthur pointed out.

I didn't give him the satisfaction of an answer. I simply clenched my teeth to stop their chattering and rode on in silence.

---

Towards nightfall on our second day of riding, we had an encounter with the Woads, as we all knew we were bound to. A faint rustle in the treetops put us on guard.

"Woads," said Tristan quietly. "They're tracking us."

"Where?" Arthur asked.

"Everywhere."

We all tensed, waiting for the ambush that was soon to come. Sure enough, arrows soon blacked our path. We turned and tried another route, but it was hopeless, the Woads knew the woods better then we could ever hope to.

Finally, after several tries at escape, we were surrounded on all sides. We knew that we would have to fight. Arthur drew his sword, and we all did the same.

The attack we anticipated didn't come.

"What are you waiting for?" Gawain asked impatiently.

"A signal to attack, perhaps," I suggested.

A horn blew in the distance. The Woads looked uncertain for a moment, but then they reluctantly lowered their weapons and disappeared into the trees.

"What was that?" I wondered aloud.

"Why would they not attack?" Galahad asked Arthur.

"Merlin doesn't want us dead," Arthur answered.

Merlin, the leader of the Woads, the magician. I couldn't understand why he wouldn't want us dead. The knights were, after all, his enemies and had killed many of his people. I knew that, given the opportunity, I would have killed him in a heartbeat. He'd had too many of my close friends killed.

---

Lancelot

We rode on. Once again, we only stopped when necessary. We rode through the night, sleeping on horseback when we could, although no one got much sleep.

It was very amusing to watch the Roman try to sleep in the saddle. It was obvious that he was unaccustomed to horses, and Jols had seen to it that he got a vicious beast with a terrible temper.

After watching and laughing at Horton for a little while, I rode up next to Morgan and decided to make conversation. When she was on a mission with us, she was a different person from the woman she was at the wall, and I was never entirely sure what to say. All the same, I decided to try. "Regretting coming along?" I asked her, smiling.

She mumbled something unintelligible and hit me. It took me a moment to understand, then I realized that she'd been asleep. As a means of apology, I took her reins in my hands to guide her horse while she rested.

She didn't take kindly to that, sitting up straight and snatching them away from me. "I can manage," she growled.

"Sorry," I said. And I was. I regretted waking her up in the first place.

---

The next day was as miserable as the previous ones, but at least we were not attacked by Woads or Saxons. After three days in the saddle without stopping except for short periods of time, we stopped for the night in a grove of trees.

The rain only got heavier as we sat huddled in our cloaks, wishing for a campfire. Of course, a fire was impossible in the pouring down rain, and our wishes were in vain.

We tried to make light of things. We talked and laughed. We complained about the weather, teased Bors, and contemplated to whom Vanora's children belonged. Annoyed with us, Bors made an excuse and left.

"You know," said Morgan, laughing a little. "It's a lucky thing I don't have any children or I would have found that whole conversation entirely offensive." She put on what she, no doubt, thought was an expression of insult. It looked to me like a pout.

"If you had children," Galahad pointed out, "You wouldn't be here listening to us."

"Oh yes. That's right. I'd be sitting at home with the little ones and let the lot of you have all the fun."

"Fun?" snorted Gawain. "You think this is fun?"

"Well, relatively. Have you ever tried caring for 11 children?" she asked.

He looked horrified. "No," he replied cautiously.

"Then know this: those children are worse than the Woads and the Saxons put together. Drive you out of your mind they would. Vanora had me watch them for her once when she wasn't feeling well." She shuddered. "Never again."

"How come you don't have children?" I asked curiously.

She shrugged. "I don't really know. Perhaps I've got all of you to blame for it. Anyway, it looks like I never will. I'm barren I suppose"

"Do you regret it?" Galahad asked sympathetically.

She looked at him in disgust. "Did you hear nothing I just said? Besides, can you really see me as a mother?"

He looked thoughtful. "No...I suppose not. You're not really the motherly type."

"No indeed," she murmured.

---

Gawain

It wasn't very easy to sleep that night. If I hadn't been so damn tired, I probably wouldn't have gotten any sleep whatsoever.

By the next morning, the rain had stopped, but it was still damp and soggy. We continued on through increasing dreary terrain. Soon, there were no more flat plains, only gray, rocky hills.

After a time, our horses grew exhausted, and we dismounted to walk them. We trudged on for hours.

"Damn Romans," Morgan gasped breathlessly. "We wouldn't be here doing this if they had kept their word."

"I thought you said this was 'fun'," I remarked.

"I said 'relatively fun'. Compared to children, it's a picnic. However, in itself, it's a living hell."

"True enough. Just remember, you chose to come along. You could be at home right now. Warm and comfortable."

"Don't remind me," she grumbled.

"Why do you do this?" I asked.

"Do what?"

"Come along on a mission that's not your own. Risk your life for Rome when you have a choice. If I had a choice I wouldn't be here."

"I don't risk my life for Rome," she spat. "I risk my life for you."

"Do you really think we can't look after ourselves Morgan?"

"That's not it." She stared at the ground for a long moment. "You can't understand," she whispered.

"Not if you don't explain. Why do you-?"

She cut me off. "Not now," she said quietly.

I decided to let it rest. I knew I wouldn't get anything out of her that she didn't want me to know.

"I do this every time, you know," she said suddenly. "Decide to help, and end up miserable and swearing I'll never do it again."

"Well, this time you won't need to. This is the last time."

She looked thoughtful. "But what will I do with myself after this is over?"

I smiled as much as I could manage. "I've already told you. Come with me to Sarmatia."

I had expected her to laugh, or at least smile, but she didn't. She looked sad.

---

After hours walking up a rocky slope, we reached the top of the craggy mountain. From there we could see the Roman estate in the valley below. It was still many miles away, but at last it was within our sight.

For the first time since we'd left the wall, it seemed to me that the quest was not impossible. That we just might make it home alive. I certainly hoped so.

We remounted and began to ride toward the estate.

Morgan

I didn't feel like dealing with Romans. I think I would have killed the first one who opened his mouth. I didn't want anyone to get in trouble on my account, so I rode up next to Arthur to talk to him.

"Permission to go out scouting?" I asked.

"Tristan just left," he replied.

"I'll go another way. He's looking for Saxons. I'll keep a lookout for Woads."

He sighed. "Fine. Go. But be careful."

"Of course."

---

There were no Woads anywhere. I'd known that there wouldn't be. They would stay clear of the Saxons. My scouting mission was only an excuse to not have to face Romans and everything that they stood for. It was a cowardly thing to do, and I knew it. I didn't care.

I didn't go very far. Only far enough to satisfy myself that there was no immediate danger to myself or the knights. Then, after stalling for a good amount of time, I decided that I had no choice but to proceed towards the estate. I rode slowly, putting off as long as possible the inevitable meeting with the Romans. Finally, when I could put it off no longer, I urged my horse into a gallop.

As I rode, I could hear Saxon drums, and I knew that there wasn't much time.

Thank you to: Mustang Gal, chiefhow, and Michaela90.

No thanks to: The Original Diva. I honestly don't mind constructive critisism, but I think it's really annoying when all a reviewer has to say is how horrible the story is. Perhaps if you told me what would make it better I would appreciate it a little more.