Title: Protector Of The Weak
Author: Jmaria
Rating: PG-13 to R (for language and some mild naughtiness)
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss owns all things BtVS, and somebody else owns K.A.
Spoilers: Season 7, and the movie King Arthur
Summary: Mourning, picking fights, and home.
A/N: OK . . .even though there was much pleading about going AU with Dagonet, I had to kill him anyway. It killed me to do it - I was bawling as I wrote it, hell I was bawling way before I even wrote it. But his death has a higher purpose that will be explained in the next chapter or so. If you all want to flay me alive, I understand completely. All this huge emotional build up and then I kill him off - you'd swear I'd been channeling Joss for a minute. I cut the last chapter a little short, mainly because it was approaching 20 pages and it was starting to sound long-winded, and because if I wrote anymore I was gonna have a breakdown myself.
I would have given a tissue warning, but I didn't want to come out and say I was killing him. . .
It also occurred to me that not everyone knows what Dagonet looks like. If you're interested, I did a few pics of them. They're not the greatest, but all I have is Microsoft Paint. You can find them here:
http:img. of them are with Dawn and Dag, and the third is after he dies.
6. Grief In Battle
Dawn held onto Bors' arm as he led her to the tavern. Their jug was empty. He set her at the nearest table. Dawn slumped forward. The ache was still there. She'd had too much to drink. She just wanted to sleep. She rose shakily from the table. Where was she supposed to sleep? Dawn didn't care. She'd sleep on the ground.
"Lady." A low voice said from her side.
"Wha'?" She demanded, her voice slurred. She blinked, trying to see who it was. All she could make out was a fuzzy looking head. "What do ya wan'?" Dawn asked, her voice raspy and broken sounding.
"You should not be out here alone." She felt the had on her shoulder, trying to guide her away from the tavern.
"Don't touch me!" She hissed. The last person who'd tried to help her had been Dagonet, and now he was dead. The hand quickly withdrew.
Lancelot had learned his lesson the first time. He held up both hands, amicably. He did not know why the other knights had chosen him for this task. Gawain would have been a better choice, or even Galahad. Bors was too drunk by now, and Tristan barely spoke to them. Arthur was too wracked with guilt over Dagonet's death as it was.
"The others knights wished for you to have this." He held the lone scroll high for her to see.
"What is it?" She asked, blinking at it.
"Dagonet's papers of freedom."
"What?"
"To remember him by. You let the boy have his ring, it was felt you should have something as well."
Dawn felt her knees weaken. Was he serious? She couldn't believe that he was suggesting a piece of paper was going to make the heartache just go away. She crossed her arms tightly against her chest.
"What is it that you think Dagonet and I shared?" She asked, her head pounding through the haze of alcohol in her system.
"Besides coupling?" Lancelot retorted.
Dawn slapped him hard across the cheek. Fresh tears formed in her eyes, making her vision even blurrier. She stared at him.
"You think a piece of paper is gonna make this hurt less?" She demanded. "I knew him for four days."
"This is what Dagonet died for -"
"No, Dagonet died for a lot of reasons. That piece of paper isn't what he died for. And you know it." She spat.
"It was this final quest for his freedom -"
"No, that may have been what it started out as." Dawn felt herself sobering up. "He died protecting innocent people from a great evil. He was a champion. That's was champions do. They sacrifice themselves so that others can live. They make the hard choices."
She thought about him. His smile, his laughter, his gentleness. Dawn doubted that she'd find another soul like him.
"I knew him for four days. Four little days. And I wish those four days could have lasted a lifetime." She lowered her head. "I loved him. That may be hard for you to get, but I know he loved me as well. That piece of paper doesn't mean a thing. I have my memories. That's all that I need of him."
Dawn turned, walking unsteadily back to the Tavern. Bors was there, and she felt the urge for another drink. She'd be hating herself in the morning, but she needed that now. Lancelot, still holding the scroll, watched her leave.
Dawn was contemplating how many drinks would make her pass out when Guinevere found her. She was staring at the flame, watching it dance. Bors had long since disappeared on her, looking for Vanora. No one else approached her. Not the guards or the knights, not the Roman soldiers or the villagers.
"Dawn. . ."
"Do ya like him?" Dawn asked, watching the flame.
"What?"
"Arthur - he's kinda hot in his own way. Do ya like him?" Dawn asked, staring at the other girl.
"He -"
"Cuz if ya do, you should really tell him." When Guinevere started to object, Dawn cut her off. "I think that if you really, really like him, you'd do something 'bout it. Cuz tomorrow, you could be dead. Nobody knows what's gonna happen in the future. 'Cept me." Dawn giggled, taking a deep swing of the wine.
"I think you've had enough." Guinevere tried to take it from her.
"Yeah." Dawn's face became quite sober. "Yeah, I have. I've had too fucking much to drink." She threw the jug to the cobbled ground. "I think I should just get some food in me, maybe? Get rid of all the booze. Or 'sorb it or something."
"Yes."
Guinevere took her words to heart. She watched as Arthur went off by himself. She waited a moment, leaving the other girl in Fulcinia's capable hands, and followed him. It was true, she found herself attracted to Arthur. She slipped quietly into his room. He lay atop his bed, his eyes closed in quiet concentration. He jerked to consciousness as she drew back the thin veil that crossed the room.
He did not rise to greet her as she approached him. She said nothing as she took his face in her hands. She watched him, as she had been watching him from the moment he pulled her from the cage that had held her.
"What tomorrow brings . . .we cannot know." She said, lowering herself atop him as they shared their first kiss.
Dawn sunk down against the stone steps. Fulcinia was speaking nervously to someone else. Low whispers flew across the entire fort. Fires had been seen across the wall. The Saxon had come. She wanted to see them.
Dawn, now partially sober, climbed up the steps. No one tried to stop her. She leaned out over the opening. Hundreds of campfires dotted the countryside. Saxon fires. She clenched her fists at her sides. Even after all they had sacrificed, the inevitable happened. Dagonet's sacrifice amounted to diddly squat.
She turned, hearing a voice behind her. The other knights stood there, looks similar to her own on their faces. She laughed bitterly.
"The bastards decided to come and play." Dawn sighed. "Good thing I'm not all played out." She muttered to herself.
"Make way! Make way!" Someone shouted. She turned to see Arthur and Guinevere racing up the steps.
Arthur looked at his knights' faces then out to the sea of Saxons below them. They knew a great battle would be fought, but none of them wanted to fight it. Arthur stepped away, looking down at the people massed together. The people who looked to him for guidance. Turning back to his brothers, he spoke.
"Knights, my journey with you must end here. May God go with you." With that, he turned away and made his way down the stairs.
Lancelot shook his head in disbelief. Arthur could not mean to stay and fight the entire Saxon army with only the aid of the natives. Giving Guinevere a knowing look, he shook his head again, following Arthur. Guinevere followed them, leaving Dawn with the remaining four knights.
"Arthur, this is not Rome's fight. It is not your fight." When Arthur didn't respond, he continued. "All these long years we've been together, the trials we've face, the blood we've shed. What was it all for, if not for the reward of freedom? And now when we are so close, when it is finally within our grasp. . . " He latched onto Arthur's arm, getting him stop. "Look at me! Does it all count for nothing?"
"You ask me that? You who know me best of all?" Arthur asked, before turning and continuing on his way. Lancelot ran to stand before him.
"Then do not do this. Only certain death awaits you here. Arthur, I beg you! For our friendship's sake, I beg you!" Arthur put his hand on Lancelot's shoulder, stopping him.
"You be my friend now and do not dissuade me. Seize the freedom you have earned and live it for the both of us. I cannot follow you, Lancelot." Tears came to Lancelot's eyes as Arthur continued. "I now know that all the blood I have shed, all the lives I have taken have led me to this moment." Patting the side of Lancelot's head, he walked around his friend, continuing on his mission.
Dawn watched from the wall. Bors put a hand on her shoulder, urging her to look at him.
"Vanora will take you in her cart." He said quietly.
"Take me?" Dawn asked, dumbfounded. "Take me where?"
"With us, when we leave." Bors' face was grim as he spoke. "Dag would have wanted me to look out for you."
"I'm not going." She replied.
"Whadda ya mean, you're not going?"
"I'm not leaving. I'm staying and I'm fighting."
"Arthur won't let you fight." Galahad shook his head.
"No, but Guinevere will." Dawn cocked an eyebrow. "You were all so quick to call me a Woad, that I think I might just become one."
"One battle does not make you a warrior." Tristan said, staring fixedly on her.
"No, it doesn't. Which is damn good for me that that wasn't my first battle. I've been through more battles than I can even count."
"You're drunk." Gawain replied.
"I think I'm more sober than I've been in a long time." Dawn sighed, turning to leave.
"Lady, you can't fight this battle." Bors said quietly.
"Yeah? Who's gonna stop me?" Dawn replied, making her way down the steps to Guinevere's side.
"So I've decided that I want to fight." Dawn said, coming to stand beside. "And I was told that Arthur wouldn't let me fight. Basically, the short version is that I wanna be a Woad."
"You want to be a Woad?"
"You're my sister in arms, and a Woad. I wanna fight, Guinevere." Her look was deadly calm as she spoke.
"I go to meet with Merlin in an hour to prepare for battle." Guinevere looked at where Lancelot stood. "Bring all the weapons you have with you and meet me near the tavern."
"Gotcha."
2005
Dawn had been missing now for almost two days. Buffy, Xander, and even Faith had come to help in the search for the missing Scooby. Willow worked the shadows, trying to get a fix on Dawn. The closest she got was a strong vibe over by one archeological dig near the Wall.
"She was there, for a really long time." Willow sighed. "But it's weird, because it's not a new shadow."
"New shadow? What does that mean, Will?" Buffy asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Theoretically, everything and every person leaves behind a shadow, like a signature of themselves. Especially when there are high emotions exerted. Like at the frat house when you and Riley were . . ." Willow cut herself off. "And by taping into the magics, I can see the shadows more clearly than everyone else."
"How would this help us find Dawnie?" Xander asked.
"Well, the shadow of the Dawn I'm seeing is - she's grieving."
"Grieving?" Buffy asked.
"That's the only way I can describe it. But that's not the weird part." Willow glanced nervously at Giles. "This shadow I'm seeing? It's not new, it's old. Really old."
"How old, Willow?"
"About fifteen hundred years old."
467
Guinevere led Dawn through the woods. Dawn sighed as she strode through the tall grass, skirt hiked up so she wouldn't trip on it. She hadn't said goodbye to any of the knights, she merely caught Bors' eyes and gave her drinking buddy a small smile. He would live, and raise his children. He would most likely take Lucan in as well, remembering how much his friend had cared for the child. Tristan had nodded to her as she had left. It was odd, she had barely spoken a word to the man, but he out of all the other knights, seemed to respect her decision the most.
They were greeted at the edge of the forest by men covered in pale blue body paint, tribal tattoos marking their faces and chests. Guinevere said something in her native tongue, and gestured to Dawn. They nodded and led them through the dark woods to a single fire. Three men, older than most she'd seen since her arrival, sat before it. Guinevere spoke again, and the middle man stared at her curiously. He seemed wiser than the others.
"Merlin?" Dawn asked quietly.
"Yes. I am Merlin."
"I wish to fight alongside the Woads against the Saxons." She said calmly.
"No man wishes to fight."
"I do." She tilted her head to the side. "But then I am not a man."
Merlin stared at her for a moment. He murmured something to Guinevere and the other men. Within a few moments, they were alone. Merlin rose to his feet and walked closer to her.
"Guinevere told me you were a wise man. Tell me, Merlin, have you heard of the whispered tales of creatures not of this earth?" Dawn asked, her eyes focused on the fire. "Of demons?"
"We all have demons that haunt us." He said nonchalantly.
"Have you heard of the demons that look like humans? That drink the blood of humans?"
"I have heard many things." He replied.
"And of their greatest enemy? A girl chosen to hunt them. A girl of great strength."
"Yes." He stared at her.
"Good."
"Are you such a girl?" Merlin asked.
"No, but I was trained by one. I can fight. I am strong, I am seasoned."
"Guinevere says you have a grudge with the Saxon."
"I do. They killed the man I loved."
"One of the great knights." Merlin said, sitting back by the fire.
"Yes."
"Is this a wise choice? To fight for something you do not truly believe in?" Merlin questioned her.
"I never said I didn't believe in it. I just said I wanted to fight them."
"This does not mean the same thing."
"It's a good cause. Innocent people would die if the Saxons conquer your island."
Merlin considered this for a moment, remembering Guinevere's words to him. He looked at her beneath hooded eyes, considering her words.
"You are not of this land. Guinevere has said your home is many years from here."
"It is."
"Something in your voice tells me that this does not mean what I believe it to mean." Merlin questioned her with his eyes.
"It probably doesn't."
"You do not mean, then, that it would take you a year or so to travel there."
"It would take me a thousand years and more to travel to my home." Dawn said bluntly. "I have no way to return there, so this is now my home."
Merlin studied the girl. She had accepted her destiny, as cruel as it might seem. She wished to be used to the best of her abilities. Still he hesitated in sealing that fate.
"Guinevere has said you are a brave fighter. She has asked that you fight beside her, as one of us."
"Then -"
"Go, prepare for the battle."
2005
Buffy stared at her best friend of nearly nine years in shock. This couldn't be happening. How could Dawn's spirit-thingy be fifteen hundred years in the past?
"Are you saying something threw her back in time?" Xander asked.
"No, something sent her back." Willow said, not that it made much difference.
"Something sent her? Like a demon? What kind of demon has that power?" Buffy asked.
"None. I mean, there's no demon capable of that kind of power." Giles sighed, removing his glasses. "At least, none that are still alive."
"Then what -" Buffy asked.
"Well, we've done some thinking. The only ones capable of that kind of power is Dawn."
"Because she was the key?" Xander asked.
"And still remains the key." Buffy said quietly.
"But that opens to Glory's hell dimension, not into the past." Xander pointed out.
"Unless someone tinkered with it." Willow replied, looking unhappy about saying this.
"Who -" Xander started to ask.
"The Powers." Buffy said quietly. "The Powers that Be."
"The what now?" Xander said.
"The Powers that Be. They call the Champions of the Good side. Whistler, the demon that told me how to stop Angel, he worked for them."
"They were always working through Angel in L.A." Willow said. "Before . . ."
"So the Powers hijacked Dawnie to go back in time?" Xander asked. "Why?"
467
The people in the fort began packing their belongings as soon as the Saxons had been spotted outside the wall. They began evacuating around the same time Guinevere and Dawn had left for their meeting with Merlin. Arthur prepared for battle. He was dressed in full battle armor, his standard in his hand and Excalibur at his side. He watched from atop the hillside as his people fled to safety.
On the fields closest to the doors of the gates, large bundles of tar-covered hay burned, sending great columns of gray smoke up into the sky making sight nearly impossible. From the fields, Arthur's knights could barely make out his figure. Bors looked up at the hill. Drawing his sword, Bors' turned his horse up the slope. Stopping, he yelled.
"Artorius!" He tapped his sword across his heart before raising it. "Rus!"
There was no reply from their commander for a few moments. Then, raising his great standard he yelled back.
"RUS!"
From the forest, the Woad army appeared. Each man and woman was covered in the blue tribal paint. Guinevere stood at the head, her tribe's symbols painted onto her flesh. Dawn stood beside her, her sword at her hip, hair pulled back and high on her head. Painted tattoos covered her shoulder and face, and the blue paint of the Woads covered the rest of her visible flesh. They watched as Arthur went down to speak with the Saxon.
The great gates opened, and Arthur rode through them, meeting Saxon leader Cerdic in the center of the field.
"Arthur." Cerdic said sighing. "Hm. Wherever I go on this wretched island I hear your name. Always half-whispered, as if you were a . . . god." They began circling each other. "All I see is flesh, blood. No more god than the creature you're sitting on."
"Speak your terms, Saxon."
"The Romans have left you. Who are you fighting for?"
"I fight for a cause beyond Rome's or your understanding."
"Ah. You come to beg a truce. You should be on your knees."
"I came to see your face," Arthur replied, pointing Excalibur at him. "So that I alone may find you on the battlefield. And it would be good for you to mark my face, Saxon, for the next time you see it, it will be the last thing you see on this earth."
"Ah." He watched as Arthur rode away. "Ah, finally. A man worth killing." He said, turning back to his men.
Dawn watched Arthur return. She'd been worried that the Saxon would kill him. Glancing over at Guinevere, she could see that the other woman had thought along those same lines.
Dawn looked back up at the hill, a movement coming from the south catching her eye. Another rider, in full battle armor appeared beside Arthur on the hill. He was soon joined by four more. Dawn let out a small sigh.
"They came back to fight." She murmured.
The gate remained open. It was an invitation. Cerdic ordered Cynric's remaining infantry inside the walls. The Saxons moved cautiously towards the doors. Atop the hill, Arthur spoke to his men before the battle.
"Knights, the gift of freedom is yours by right. But the home we seek resides not in some distant land. It's in us and in our actions on this day. If this be our destiny, then so be it. But let history remember that as free men we chose to make it so." Drawing Excalibur and raising it high into the air, Arthur yelled. "RUS!"
Each knight jammed his standard into the hill as they joined him in yelling the Sarmatian battle cry. Tristan reached for his bow and took aim. He let the arrow fly high over the wall, where it flew into the large tree that stood there. He did not know that his arrow had hit the Saxon spy.
The first wave of Saxon warriors were met with thick, acidy smoke that blurred the vision and choked the lungs. The gates closed behind them and they marched toward the six knights. From the forest, the Woads took aim. Guinevere tipped her bow higher, as she had learned at the ice battle. The others copied her. They let the arrows fly.
Many Saxons, caught off guard, fell victim to the arrows. As the others hid beneath their shields, the knights rode through them, catching them off guard once more. More lay dead on the battlefield. The Woads prepared a second volley, and a third. In the confusion, the Saxons began firing at themselves, each believing to be shooting at the knights. Only one Saxon escaped the battlefield alive. But when he reached Cerdic, claiming the knights to be demons, he was killed.
Cerdic ordered the main army through. The real battle had yet to begin.
A/N: Ok, there you go. It's shorter than the last three chapters, but it works better this way. Feedback is always appreciated.