Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: Anyone who is here to leave a scathing remark about the whole Camille Blackfox fiasco, don't waste your time. I can't believe this is even happening. I'm so disappointed in the KA fandom community. If you don't know what I'm talking about, don't bother trying to find out, you'll either hate me and bombard me with emails telling me how 'bitchy' I am, or you'll laugh and realise just how petty some people can be. I considered not updating until this whole ridiculous thing blew over, but I felt that I owed it to my adult readers to post a new chapter and not give in to this stupid review war. Hell, I even considered dropping this whole thing and running back to the Harry Potter universe with my tail between my legs. But that's not going to happen. If any of you are actually offended by what's happened, I apologise. I believe in writing full-length, useful criticism that can help another writer improve their writing, and I supposed that fellow fan fiction writers were in the same state of mind. Seems I have been awfully mistaken and I'm sorry for that. Everything I say is just an opinion. Take it as you will. I've been informed that I have become a 'bitchy reviewer' with an 'opposing team' and that people probably won't read this fic because of that. Hopefully we can all be big enough to get over this whole absurd thing. Oh God. I bet someone just got really offended. Maybe I should just shut my mouth.

On another note, thanks to everyone whose been reviewing. You're beautiful and I love you all.

Summary: Years after the battle on Badon Hill, Lancelot has resigned himself to a loveless life, ever watching from the sidelines. But his hope is slowly restored when he meets a young woman, who fills his life with light, like the rising of the moon.

Crescent Moon

By katemary77

Chapter Four: The Story of Her Birth

Soon as the evening shades prevail,

The moon takes up the wondrous tale,

And nightly to the listening earth

Repeats the story of her birth.
- Joseph Addison in the "Spectator", no. 465, Ode

"That was some nice archery back there," Lancelot remarked, pulling Midnight alongside Corin's dappled mare, which she had decided to name Callisto.

"Thank you, Sir Lancelot, but surely you have seen a woman wield a weapon before?" she replied.

"Aye, I have, but not like that," he answered.

"Then you have never met an Amazon."

"An Amazon, Corin?" the man scoffed. "Surely you jest!"

"And what of knights, Lancelot?" she countered. "Are they not also the stuff of legend?"

Lancelot waved this aside. "You're not seriously telling me you're an Amazon, are you?" he asked, leaning forward in his saddle.

"I'm only joking, you need not worry," Corin replied with a wicked grin. "I am a lady of Artemis, that is all."

They rode in silence for a while, Lancelot staring wearily ahead at his friends and Corin concentrating closely on directing Callisto over the many tree roots that clustered the forest they were crossing.

"Tell me your story, Corin."

Corin turned to look at the knight. "What do you mean, my 'story'?"

Lancelot shrugged and gestured toward the other knights. "I've been travelling with these men for close to twenty years now. I know all I wish to know about them. We still have half a days ride ahead of us and this landscape becomes tiring rather easily." He smirked. "Therefore, at this moment, you serve as my only means of entertainment. Indulge me, please. I beg you." The curly-haired knight pulled his hands up before him in a pleading gesture. "Tell me a story. Tell me your story. Tell me any story."

Corin sighed. "All right, Lancelot, I shall strike an accord with you. I shall keep you entertained with tales and conversation on the journey to Camelot if you teach me how to fight."

"To fight?"

She nodded.

"Very well," Lancelot conceded, holding out his hand to shake Corin's, but when the girl put her slender hand in his, her quickly turned it, placing a soft kiss upon her knuckles.

Corin let out another bell-like peal of laughter. "You are a sly dog, aren't you? You're not trying to woo me, Lancelot, are you?"

"I don't know," he replied, with his infamous smirk. "Are you wooable?"

She laughed again and took Lancelot's hand, giving it a firm shake. "That remains to be seen, my friend. The deal is struck."

"So tell me a story."

Corin sighed and gazed around at the sombre trees, as if they would give her an idea. Her face took on a nostalgic air for a moment before she began.

"Once, on the Greek isle of Delos, where Leto bore Zeus's children, Artemis and Apollo, a group of great warriors were hunting wild boar when they heard the cry of a small child. After close inspection, they came across a little girl, only a babe in arms, at the base of a tall tree, with a small fortune in gold and jewels nestled in the bottom of her crib. Perplexed and not knowing what to do with the babe, the warriors decided to offer her to the nearby Temple of Artemis, in payment for the wild things they had taken from the Lady's domain during their hunt.

"So the warriors gave the child over to the priestesses, where she was named…" Corin sought around for a name for a moment, her brow furrowing in thought. "Caitlyn!" she finally pronounced in triumph, and Lancelot gave a little chuckle. "Caitlyn, a name befitting a servant of the Virgin Goddess," Corin continued. Parents were never found, though it was speculated that perhaps Caitlyn was the bastard child of one of the noblemen in a far away village, borne by a commoner or harlot and meant for sacrifice in payment for their sins and to keep shame from the family.

"Nevertheless, the babe was raised in the temple and was taught to read and write and heal and dance to appease the Lady. The High Priestess, seeing in Caitlyn the grace of the Huntress, told the girl the many secrets of the Gods and taught her the sacred rituals, meaning for Caitlyn to take her place when she was gone."

Corin's eyes shone for a moment, taking on a lustre Lancelot had not seen before in the girl.

"The warriors who had found Caitlyn came back often, and joked and laughed with the girl and became a family. Soon, the High Priestess departed to the Asphodel Fields and Caitlyn rose and took her spot. Many years passed in happiness with Caitlyn and her adopted family, and Caitlyn thought she would marry one of them when she became a woman and left the temple. But then, an incursion of foreign invaders began and the great warriors left the island and never came back.

"The invaders took over the nation, sullying the land and desecrating the temples of Caitlyn's religion, and she lived in fear that the foreigners would come to Delos and burn her temple; the last place of worship to Artemis, and her Lady would be forever forgotten. For a while, the temple stayed safe and hidden in its forest, but then Malania, the youngest daughter of a noble lord who had bent to the invaders, grew weary and hateful of her position as acolyte, underneath a parentless bastard, and betrayed the temple to the conquering army.

"It came swift and hard," Corin said with little emotion. " The priests and priestesses had little time to defend the temple. It was sacked, defiled, the men killed and women taken to the slave markets. Caitlyn was sold to a horrible man who took her very far from her home to a barren fortress in a cold country where her purity and freedom was taken from her, and the sacredness of her Lady's grace stolen."

Here, a small, sweet smile alighted upon Corin's curved lips as she regarded Lancelot softly.

"She was there for many months, drowning in a dank cell in the dark, but then, one beautiful night, she was rescued by a knight in not-so shining armour named… Lachlan." Corin snickered as Lancelot began laughing. "Lachlan healed her and brought Caitlyn to his best friend, the King. The King was a kind and noble man who granted her leave to travel with them back to their palace and the beautiful Queen, who, like her husband, was noble and gentle-hearted. And Caitlyn was allowed to start a new life in a new country, which, despite its temperature, was quite charming. And she lived to be a very old woman who died happily in her sleep, where she was finally able to rejoin her Lady in Elysium and spend eternity in the Fortunate Islands."

Lancelot was silent for a moment, contemplating all that he had been told. But one fact stood out above the rest. "Your betrothed… he was killed."

Corin nodded. "Just one of the thousands that died defending the country from Rome."

"How is it that you could marry?" Lancelot asked. "I mean, I don't mean to pry or anything, but I thought priestesses were meant to stay virginal."

"They are," she breathed quietly, touching the tips of her fingers to her left forearm. "But not forever. When a servant of Artemis decides to marry, a ritual is performed and she is freed of the temple."

"But you – "

"I was not given such a courtesy," Corin cut in. "If Acheron had of returned, I would have left the domain of my Lady, for him."

"Tell me of him," Lancelot said gently. "Sometimes, it is best to speak of the things that pain us."

She nodded, gaze locked ahead. "Acheron had only seen fifteen summers when they found me. He was the son of a Greek nobleman, a great warrior, even at his young age. Acheron was a very sweet, gentle man."

"Did you love him?"

"Yes," Corin answered, tears blurring her vision. "But not the kind of love they speak of in poetry and epic tales. I never lusted after Acheron, nor did I ever feel a great desire when I saw him. It was a soft, quiet love. You must understand, Lancelot, that in Greece, marrying a priestess, particularly one of my stature, was consider a great honour, almost as much as marrying royalty. And Acheron was my closest friend, the best man I've ever known. It was a very wise match. But yes, I did love him."

By now, the sun was beginning to creep below the horizon, turning the sky a brilliant orange hue that reflected on Corin's face, making her appear almost like a child.

"How old are you, Corin?"

She smirked. "How old are you?"

"I will be thirty-two in Spring," he answered. "And you?"

"Guess," she said with a grin.

"Eighteen."

Corin laughed. "You flatter me, Sir Knight. I am much older than that."

"Twenty?" he guessed, frowning when Corin shook her head. "You can't possibly be older than twenty-five," he exclaimed, somewhat astounded at her youthful appearance.

"I am twenty-two, Lancelot, and once I get all this grime off me, I will look it."

They rode in silence for a while, each staring into the encroaching darkness.

"You are not holding up your end of the bargain very well," Lancelot joked. "Tell me, why do you wish to know how to fight?"

Corin shrugged. "I never want to be at the mercy of another man again. In the real world temple dances and tales are quite worthless, I have learnt," she said stiffly.

"Not so worthless when you're travelling in this bare country with nothing to occupy your mind," Lancelot teased. "Tell me one of these worthless tales."

Corin nodded wearily. "Do you know of the Trojan war?"

Lancelot shook his head. "Not much of it."

"Then I shall tell you of it, for it is a great story of love and tragedy." And then she launched into the great saga of the Trojan War, weaving with her tongue the many characters into the air before Lancelot and filling his mind with intricate paintings of the clear blue Aegean sea, the mighty walls of Troy and the flawless face that launched a thousand ships.

By the time Corin reached the part where the Greeks built their wooden horse, coincidentally the only part Lancelot knew, Corin was tiring, the pain of her injuries and the malnutrition she had suffered showing clearly on her face. Slowly, her voice dulled and died out, and she began a slow descent off the horse, fatigue finally claiming her body.

Diving forward, Lancelot managed to catch Corin in his arms before she hit the ground, and pulled her until her legs were slung over his lap, her body pressed against his and her head resting on his shoulder. After tying Callisto to his horse, Lancelot took Midnight's reins in one hand, using his free arm to hold Corin securely. And in this fashion, the Sarmation knight and the young priestess rode through the last off the woods and into Camelot.

----------

As they rode through the thick gates that protected the King's court and palace, a strikingly beautiful dark-haired woman rushed out to meet them.

Lancelot sucked in a dry breath.

Guinevere.

"Arthur! You're back!" she cried joyfully, laughing as the King jumped of his horse and enveloped her in a tight hug, lifting the Queen off her feet. "Knights, it is wonderful to see you all return unharmed," Guinevere said properly, giving a small curtsey.

It was then that Corin started to stir, and when she felt the strong arm around her, instinctively panicked and struggled to free herself.

"Shhh, shhh, Corin," Lancelot soothed, loosening his hold on her, and she began to calm when she heard his soft, deep voice. "You're safe. You passed out and I carried you here on Midnight."

Blearily opening her cornflower blue eyes, Corin nodded. "I'm sorry, Lancelot, I guess I was more tired than I thought."

Lancelot threw her a rakish grin and winked. "No problem at all, my lady."

Helping her dismount, Arthur led Corin to the Queen and presented the priestess to his wife, whose eyes were wide with curiosity. "Guinevere, this is Lady Corin. Lancelot found her in Antonius's fortress, being kept as a slave. Corin is skilled in healing and has accepted my offer to come and live in Camelot as our personal physician."

"It is an honour to meet you, my lady," Corin spoke, giving a curtsey.

"And you," Guinevere smiled. "Come, we must get you cleaned up. I'm sure you're dying for a bath," she said warmly. "I fear my husband has been living with men for too long and forgets such womanly necessities."

Corin laughed and took the proffered hand. "Lead the way, Lady."

-----------

Corin sighed with pleasure and sunk beneath the steaming water. As she surfaced, she heard mirthful snickers spilling from the mouth of the beautiful woman leaning on the edge of the small tub.

"Been that long?" Guinevere asked, her eyes sparkling warmly.

"Yes," Corin moaned. "I think this is possibly the best thing that has happened to me today. Taking a bath."

"I know the feeling," Guinevere said. At Corin's confused expression, she continued. "I was once shown the hospitality of a Roman lord. Those knights really do have a thing for damsels in distress," the Queen laughed.

Corin nodded, a small frown upon her face and ran a hand over her sopping wet hair. "I don't think my hair has ever been so knotted," she said with a chuckle.

"Here, let me," the Woad said happily, ecstatic at having a female for company, and took a wooden comb to Corin's hair.

After many minutes, winces, grunts of pain and hurried apologies, Corin's hair was untangled and clean, her entire body washed down with a lavender scented soap.

Once she was dry, Guinevere carefully re-bandaged Corin's wounds and presented her with one of the gowns from her wardrobe, a deep blue velvet dress trimmed with a dark red. "Here, you may have this," she said. "It does not fit me properly and I did not wish to insult the dress-maker by giving it back. I think it should fit you well."

"Are you sure, Lady Guinevere?" Corin asked.

"Of course," the Queen smiled. "I have far to many dresses to begin with. We shall commission some to be made for you in the morn."

Corin bowed her head as she took the gown. "My deepest thanks, my lady. You and your husbands generosity is too much."

"Nonsense," Guinevere replied, her hand resting on Corin's arm. "It is the least we could do for you after your ordeal." She gave the Greek a gentle squeeze before smiling widely. "And if you and I are to be friends, which I do hope, you must start calling me by my name."

Corin laughed and took the soft gown into her hands. "Very well, Guinevere."

"That's more like it. Now come, or we shall be late for dinner."

A/N: Hope that wasn't to clichéd for you. Humph. As for the whole Acheron bit, I was trying to portray, although I don't think very successfully, that Corin wasn't really in love with Acheron, rather she loved him like a very, very close friend and understood that it was a clever match.

Allow me to take this moment to point out that the majority of this story is completely historically inaccurate. I'm Australian and the only English history we are taught starts when they colonised my country, many, many years after King Arthur. As for the Greek mythology stuff, I'm really into it at the moment and most of what's in Crescent Moon is real, but sometimes there will be something I've adapted to fit the story. Elysium, the Asphodel Fields and Fortunate Islands are all places in Tartarus, or the underworld.

Please review. Let me know if your still reading this after everything. I need some reassurance :P