A/N: you all must think i have no life since i've put out atleast three chapters of this story in one day. actually, i'm home with the flu and nothing to do, so i've been typing away all day. i'm not feeling so good now but as soon as i'm up to it i'll reply to all the awesome reviews! i seriously appreciate the encourage you guys, its such a motivator! love and tea to all!

:IV:

Seventeen Years

Boudica seemed restless as we rode alongside the cart. I could feel her tensing beneath me; longing to ride off down the long open road and into the hills. She tossed her dark mane impatiently and snorted.

"Hush," I commanded quietly, stroking the side of her neck softly, "Don't fret so."

"Beautiful animal," Said a voice beside me.

I turned to see a young man upon a white steed. I recognized him to be one of the Sarmartian knights. However I was thrown off by his Roman garb with the mail shirt overlaid by brilliant chest armor. I nodded patted Boudica on the neck.

"Thank you," I answered, looking forward into the coming night as we headed east, "However beautiful, she awfully spoilt. She'll soon long for her fine stables."

"As will you," The knight replied.

I turned back; slightly offended for a moment till his playful grin quelled my annoyance.

"It depends on what you mean by 'long', sir knight." I said, turning my gaze back to the road.

"You are the daughter of Marius Honorius, are you not?" He asked, the wind tossing his dark curls from his young face. The messy beard on his chin did nothing to make him seem older. I could not believe him to be over thirty.

"Is it that obvious?" I questioned throwing him a grin.

The knight laughed at this, "Well you don't look a thing like him."

"I shall take that as a compliment," I replied with a pert smile, willing Boudica on ahead to the sound of the young knight's responding laugh.

Fulcinia climbed into the cart where the boy and girl were being tended. A villager woman was seeing to the maid but the child was frightened and would not let any near him. Carefully, she drew close to the boy. He retreated with alarmed, wide eyes.

"Do not worry, I will not hurt you," Fulcinia said quietly, "I have a son, just like you. Yet he is not a little boy any longer." The child's interest was peaked as Fulcinia came closer, "You will not be a little boy always either." She was making progress. Gently she reached out and motioned to his arm. It hung at his side like a broken wing, "May I?" The child looked at her for a moment longer than gave a tentative nod.

The boy's arm was indeed fractured, but not shattered. It would heal smoothly. After retrieving a cloth from the nearby woman, she set the bone as carefully as possible.

"You'll want to use these." She heard a familiar voice say and felt her heart jump to her throat.

With wavering hands, she reached out and took two sticks from Dagonet's hands.

"It will keep the bone in place." Dagonet said, coming along the other side of the boy. He laid a large hand on the child's forehead while Fulcinia tended to the boy's arm, trying not to be overwhelmed by the Sarmatian knight's presence, "He has a fever." He stated, cushioning the cart floor so the boy might lie down.

They managed to have the child be still. Fulcinia found herself glancing up at Dagonet often. How many years had it been? Seventeen since she last saw him? He had been younger and more light hearted then. His face had not been so hard. He had changed. She looked down quickly when he noticed she was watching him. She had changed as well. She suddenly wondered why Dagonet lingered in Britain? He should have been free of his service two years prior. Why did he stay?

"What is your name child?" Fulcinia asked softly, brushing one of the boy's curls from his face.

"Lucan." The boy whispered, eyes becoming heavier till finally he was asleep.

Dagonet and Fulcinia worked silently, making sure Lucan was comfortable. She sat quietly, mixing together herbs for a poultice to place on the boy's burning forehead.

"You look well, Fulcinia." Dagonet said quietly, tucking a blanket under Luncan's chin.

She felt her cheeks and neck burn at the sound of her name coming from his lips.

"As do you, Dagonet." She answered.

There was the sound of laughter nearby and they both looked up to see Viola ride past on her chestnut mare.

"You gave your husband two beautiful children," Dagonet's tone was hushed as he allowed himself to look up at her longer than need be.

She was still beautiful to him, with her dark curls loose at her shoulders. When her pig husband had struck her it was all he could do to restrain himself from killing the man right there. Her daughter had obviously felt the same.

"Thank you," Fulcinia replied as Dagonet looked back down at Lucan, "But I gave Marius only one child."

Dagonet sat up abruptly, his heart pounding in his chest at her comment, "What?" He breathed.

Fulcinia looked up and smiled softly, "Alecto is a good boy, nothing like his father Marius. My husband only sired him."

Dagonet felt as though his tongue had been cut clear from his head. She gave Marius only one child. The boy. He looked back outside the cart to see Fulcinia's daughter on her horse. The girl was smiling as a villager handed a child up to ride with her. Her hair was the color of dark honey. His mother had had the same dark golden waves. He looked back down at Lucan, his eyes pricking with tears.

"What do you call her?" He whispered.

"Marius knows her as Viola; her Christian name." She looked up at Dagonet, "But I named her Igraine secretly at birth, for your mother…" Fulcinia sat back against the side of the cart, "I used to whisper it to her when she was an infant. She was awful as a baby, more restless than Alecto ever was, always waking up and crying at ungodly hours," She chuckled softly, "Yet, she always went back to sleep fastest when I sang her that song. The one you sang to me."

Dagonet felt the lump in his throat harden, "I remember," He replied, looking up at her. She was gazing faraway it seemed, into her memory as she sat with her face pale in the dim light and eyes dark with reminiscence.

"We will go home, we will go home. We will go home across the mountains…" She repeated the words of the song, looking back at Dagonet.

For a moment the earth disappeared from under their feet.

For a moment, they were young again; young and foolish. Fulcinia was the sixteen year old daughter of Vespasian Porteous, betrothed to Marius Honorius in the north. Dagonet was the new recruit from Sarmatia, eighteen years old and hungry for home, accompanying the young dark daughter of the local roman nobleman. And they fell in love. It never meant to happen, it just did. The evening before they were to arrive at her new husband's home, Fulcinia gave herself to the young knight. They lay in each others arms under the sky and Dagonet sang a song of home to her; a home of bear and eagle across the mountains. They were young, so young. Fulcinia arrived at the Honorius estate and married Marius. She gave birth to a baby girl whose father was not her mother's husband. She named the child Igraine for Dagonet's mother whom she had never met. She named her daughter for the home her true love missed so terribly. She named her daughter so she could keep a piece of him with her. Always.

They had not seen each other in seventeen years.

"Dagonet,"

Both Fulcinia and Dagonet were broken away from the memory as a knight stuck his head into the cart.

"Yes Gawain?" Dagonet replied, clearing his throat.

"Arthur needs you to help the villagers that are lagging behind." And with that the man was gone.

Dagonet glanced back at Fulcinia once more, who watched him intently with her dark eyes as he made his way over to the front of the cart. How he remembered those eyes. He smiled softly at her than jumped from the cart to the ground.

Fulcinia turned back to the boy. She was thankful the child was asleep. He did not need to see anymore tears.