Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N:Wow. I never in my wildest dreams expected such a response to this fic. I am so overwhelmed and I love you all. Thank you so much! I'm having a bit of an issue that I hope you might be able to help me with. I've had an anonymous reviewer claim my story is 'twisted and wrong' and belongs in the pornography world… I totally respect that person's opinion, and I confess to being a little worried. I was just wondering if you could tell me what you think this should be rated. It's a little hard with me because in Australia we have completely different ratings, so I'm not sure what should be what. Over here, I think this would be rated M or MA, but I have no idea what that means in the U.S. So, if you could, could you give me an idea on what I should rate this?

Shoutouts to those who reviewed Chapter Three go to… Southernhun, Haley2, SarmatianKnight13, Evenstar, engelslovesmarx, urhallucinating, szhismine, Calliope Foster, i wish i were a cloud, Lalane Michaels… and review responses for Chapter Four…

Sweet A.K: Thank you so much! Hope you enjoy this chapter.

HGandRHrforever: Thanks! I hoped people would like the different names… I hope you like this chapter! And I totally agree with you. H/G and R/Hr rocks.

Evenstar: I love that you said they seem really natural, that was what I was trying to go for. As for them making progress, I'm trying to make this story and the romance in it as real as possible. So there'll be heaps of stuff with them together, but I'm going to wait awhile until they really get into it. I don't want this romance to turn out like my last, when the main couple are suddenly all in love and stuff. But I promise it won't take too long!

Jemiul: Thankyou! Hope this is soon enough and to your liking. Heehee.

Valia-Elf: Thank you for all the reviews! It's your first KA fic? Oh, that makes me feel so proud. Lol, I won't be worrying too much about the history, creative license, yada yada yada. Thanks for reviewing, hope you like this one.

Sheiado: Drama is so not my cup of tea either; I'm so glad the whole thing was resolved. As for the motivation speech, is was sorely needed and thank you so much for giving it. I love that you like Corin, I hope she's a very likeable character. Lol, the training part will be interesting to read, that kind of stuff is SO not my forte. So anyway, here's the next uppie, thanks so much for your review, and I hope you like it!

je suis une pizza: Lol, I asked my French friend the other day what your name meant. She had a good laugh when I said it. Heehee. Now she keeps asking me what flavour I am. Thanks sooo much for your support, I thought I was all by myself. I hope you like this chapter!

i wish i were a cloud: Thankyou for still reading! I hope you like this chapter.

Captain Black Athena: Thanks so much for your review and support. I hope you like this chapter!

Urhallucinating:I will definitely, definitely keep that in mind. I've never really had a beta before, how does it work? Hope you like this chapter…

PhoenixFyre: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope you like this one.

Andromahke:blushes furiously: Thankyou so much! I'll definitely be continuing this story after receiving such a wonderful response to it. I love all that kind of history too, especially the Greek mythology, so expect heaps of it in the future.

Flaming Mushrooms: Thank you SO much for your review! I figured that I'd be a little off in the time span, but I either just went with it or made Corin immortal, which I didn't think would go down too well, lol. I simply LOVE Greek mythology as well, and I've included the myth about Persephone and Hades, ala your request, in one of the chapters coming up. I love the whole pomegranate thing, it's so beautiful, so expect some of that too. Lol, I know I suck with commas, I always have. I reckon I musta missed a big chunk of English when I was a kid but I'll definitely pay more attention to the little blighters now that you've said that. Thanks so much for pointing it out. The whole Camille thing is totally over now, thank God, and you were right; she did respond to it maturely. Again, thank you so much for your review and I hope you like this chapter.

Anonymous: I'm really sorry you feel that way, but I'm sure that the content of Chapter One wasn't graphic and most definitely not pornographic. Perhaps I'm wrong, I'll have to look into it. As for the whole name-spelling thing, I've heard it a couple of different ways (eg. Tristan, Tristran and Tristam) but I decided to go with the majority and go for the first. Sorry if that bothers you.

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 Five: The Star of Love

The Crescent-moon, the Star of Love,
Glories of evening, as ye there are seen
With but a span of sky between-
Speak one of you, my doubts remove,
Which is the attendant Page and which the Queen?

- By William Wordsworth (1842)

Arthur and the knights stood, as was proper, when a young servant announced Queen Guinevere's approach.

Staring morosely at the table not wishing to look upon his King's wife, who he felt such betraying emotions for, Lancelot failed to notice the wide grins that settled on each knights' face when the door was opened.

It was only when Galahad, who was sitting beside the dark knight, elbowed Lancelot that he realised anything had happened at all. "See? What did I tell you?"

Brow furrowed, Lancelot glanced up to see what all the fuss was about and felt his eyebrows raise.

Galahad certainly had been right.

Corin, now clean and dressed in one of the Queen's gowns, was standing beside and a little behind Guinevere, her cornflower eyes glinting in the firelight. Watching the two women take their seats together Lancelot smirked in faint amusement; they were almost complete opposites, Corin all honey and gold to Guinevere's pale winter night.

The two ladies sat talking quietly throughout the meal, and Lancelot could tell they were becoming fast friends. The knight discreetly followed the Queen with his dark eyes, watched her laughing gaily with the Greek priestess, her slim, white hands moving through the air as she conversed with Corin. Guinevere's eyes were bright with a fierce happiness that Lancelot had not seen with her in any company but Arthur's, and the brooding knight wished, not for the first time, that such joy were directed at him.

"She is a remarkable woman," a quiet voice said beside him as the meal came to a close, and Lancelot did not have to turn to discern whom it belonged to.

"Yes, Tristan," he answered, his gaze locked on the Queen. "She certainly is."

"I think, perhaps, Lancelot," the quiet scout said, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder, "that you and I are seeing different things."

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That night Lancelot found that again sleep eluded him. He lay for a while gazing blankly at the stone ceiling of his chambers, but soon grew bored of his comatose state and decided to take a walk in hopes that the activity would occupy his restless nerves.

But it was not to be.

The knight had failed to notice the flickering torchlight dancing on the stone walls and so was completely unprepared for the collision that took place as he rounded the corner into the main part of the castle. Hurriedly shooting out his arms, Lancelot steadied the other person, only to snatch his hands back as if they had been scalded when he felt the textured silk of the Queen's gown.

"I'm sorry, my lady, I did not see you there," he said, turning his eyes to the floor.

"No, no problem at all, Lancelot," she replied, seemingly unaware of the way the knight winced as his name rolled so easily off her tongue. "I must've been distracted, no need to apologise."

He nodded, not trusting himself to say anything.

"Are you alright, Lancelot?" the Queen asked with a worried tone.

The knight nodded firmly. "Fine, Lady. Goodnight then." He continued on his way, walking down the darkened hall, only turning when his name was called softly.

"Why do you never say my name?" Guinevere asked, her head cocked to the side. "I cannot remember a time you have."

Lancelot's brow furrowed and he shrugged. "I know not. Goodnight, Lady." And with that, he turned and walked away, his hands trembling almost imperceptibly at his sides.

When the knight reached the topmost battlement of the castle, overlooking the valley of Camelot, Lancelot was surprised to see a slim figure gazing ahead, face upturned toward the moon. He knew at once it was Corin, and took a moment to survey the woman he had saved from bondage. She was wearing a pale blue cloak over what Lancelot presumed was a nightdress, and the hood was thrown back, allowing her unbraided hair to fall in a sheet down her back.

"It is hard," she said quietly, her gaze not turning from the silvery orb that hung in the sky, "to gaze upon something so beautiful that we can never touch."

Lancelot moved beside her, his hands resting gently on the stone parapet. "Yes," he said, turning his eyes to the moon as well. "And she is very beautiful."

Corin traced the stone with her fingers, her eyes entranced by the movement. "You love her, don't you?"

Lancelot sighed. "I do not know. It seems that way sometimes. But I would never betray Arthur by acting on it.

She nodded, her face silvery in the moonlight.

"How did you know?" the knight asked.

Corin smiled bittersweetly. "It was the way you looked at her."

"Do you think ?"

"No," she answered him. "I do not think the Queen knows."

He sighed again and endeavoured to change the subject. "Why do you trust me, Corin? Trust us?"

She looked pensive for a moment. "I knew a knight, once," she admitted softly. "He was a very good man, and he spoke of you."

"Who was this knight?" Lancelot asked curiously.

"His name was Branor," Corin answered.

Lancelot remembered him. An intelligent boy who had taken to Lancelot during their training, and who had grown into an honourable man with a kind heart and a strong thirst for freedom. He had eventually been shipped off to serve in Rome, rather than Briton, along with many other stout fighters who Lancelot had become fond of. "I remember Branor," Lancelot chuckled. "He was a good man. Wherever did you meet him?"

"In the coops where the Romans kept the slaves, actually," she said, with a bitter hint of irony to her voice.

"A slave?" Lancelot demanded. "Why was he made a slave?"

"He didn't wait out his fifteen years, Lancelot," Corin told him. "Branor received word that his mother was sick and dying, so he tried to leave. Didn't get out of the city before they caught up to him.

Lancelot shook his head sadly; just another way that the Roman conquerors had ruined something pure of an already tainted world.

"Last I saw him, Branor was being bought by an exceptionally rich young Roman widow, and he was an exceptionally good-looking man." She laughed melodiously. "Suffice to say, I think the knight will enjoy his time spent at Lady Mariana's estate."

Lancelot laughed with her, however feebly. "And you say he spoke of me?"

Corin nodded. "And Arthur. He told me many stories of you and the others. Said you were a brave, kind man, though sometimes you forgot it. And Branor told me that I would never meet a man so admirable as Arthur."

"And he was right," finished Lancelot.

"Yes, he was."

"How do you like Camelot, Lady Corin?" Lancelot asked.

"It is very beautiful," she smiled, "and the moon is so much brighter here. But I cannot deny that I miss the island."

Lancelot nodded and they stood in comfortable silence for a moment, each lost in the softly lit valley before them.

"Do you miss your home?" came the sudden query.

He shook his head. "I did, for a while, but I was a young boy when I came here, and Samartia grows fainter in my memory every day."

Corin sighed heavily. "I do not wish to forget Greece."

"You won't," Lancelot assured her. "Your heart would not let you. Delos is the place you were born, the place where you were shaped into who you are. Delos is your beginning, and it's very blood runs in your veins. But sometimes, Corin, you make your own home… in a place that you never expected you could."

"You never wish to go back?" she wanted to know.

"Sometimes," Lancelot admitted. "But then I think of Arthur and the other knights, and I know I could not. Briton, Camelot, is my home now."

Corin turned back to the moon and closed her glowing eyes for a moment. "I only hope it can become mine as well."

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The next day, Corin woke to an annoyingly insistent tapping noise. Moaning into her pillow, she waved her hand vaguely in the air as if to shoo away whatever pestering creature was making such a sinful racket at that ungodly hour.

"Corin? Corin, it is time for you to wake up! I'm coming in!"

Recognising the half-amused, half-exasperated voice, Corin groggily raised herself off the warm, comfortable mattress as the Queen entered, several other women carrying swaths of fabric in tow.

"Why are you up, Guinevere? It is not yet dawn!"

The dark-haired Woad laughed and moved to the hangings that were strung across the window. "Not yet dawn!" she cried, yanking the drapes back to reveal a bright, sunny sky. "Corin, it is two hours 'till midday!"

The Greek gasped and jumped out of bed. "Oh my, I am so sorry! I had no idea," she began, horrified she had slept so late.

The Queen laughed and held up her hands to stem Corin's hurried apologies. "No harm done at all, Corin, you have been injured and were no doubt exhausted from yesterday's journey."

Corin grinned as she thought of the late night she had spent on the battlements, talking to Lancelot, but quickly changed this into an apologetic grimace. Glancing around at the three women who had followed the Queen, Corin raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"This is Gilda," Guinevere said, indicating the older woman who had a stern look on her face and was studying Corin severely. "Gilda is our dressmaker," the Queen continued, "and these are two of her trainees, Nilla and Marianne. Ladies, this is Corin, the castles personal doctor."

Corin smiled and nodded to each as she was introduced, before the plump dressmaker hustled her onto a small stool and wrenched her arms out to her sides. "Write this down, Nilla," she demanded as she began measuring Corin, rattling off numbers and mumbling to herself all the while. "Now, she said promptly, stepping back to survey Corin critically, "are there any particular colours or styles you prefer?" she asked the bewildered priestess.

"Not really," Corin stammered. "I've been wearing the same type of dress since I was a young girl. Temple garb isn't exactly the most exciting attire in the world."

Gilda clucked her tongue and turned expectantly to the Queen, who chuckled and shrugged. "What do you think would suit Lady Corin?"

"Well," the woman began thoughtfully, clicking her fingers at her apprentices who rushed to display the different fabrics they had brought with them. "I think this and this would suit her nicely," she said, indicating different materials. "And some blues. And something with a nice scooped neck."

Guinevere nodded. "Really, whatever you think is best, Gilda. Corin will also need a few plain dresses for when she is tending the sick," she added, giving her new friend a sly wink, "and a pair of breeches, a tunic and shirt. For riding of course," the Queen said quickly, seeing the horror struck look on Gilda's face at the thought of a lady in such attire.

Grinning, Corin mouthed a silent 'thank you' to the Queen over Gilda's greying head.

"I can have a couple of them done by this evening, my lady," Gilda informed the Queen, "but the rest will take to the weeks end."

Guinevere conceded and thanked the dressmaker for her time as she ushered them out of the room, turning back to Corin as the door snapped shut and rolling her dark eyes. "That woman, I swear! She is such a tyrant!"

Corin giggled as she pulled on the soft velvet dress given to her the previous night. "A tyrant, Guinevere? Surely she is not that bad."

"Oh, but she is!" the Queen laughed, as she took the other girls hand and dragged her out of the room. "Come, Corin," she said determinedly. "I shall take you to breakfast and then, you shall see Camelot in the light of the sun."

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Sighing, Corin sat heavily upon her bed and leaned into the soft duvet, running her fingers over her face as the sun bled it's last light into her room.

After a quick breakfast, Guinevere had taken Corin on an entire tour of her new town, from the castle gardens to the stables, right down to the smelly tanneries and dye-makers. Corin had also been introduced to Bors, the only retired knight, his wife, Vanora, and their thirteen children. Camelot was indeed a handsome city, where truth, goodness and beauty reigned. The people were happy, she had noted, no trace of poverty or disease to be seen, and it's streets filled with joyous laughter and the happy cries of children.

The citizens of Camelot had greeted Corin warmly, gazing upon her as if she were an exotic butterfly passing through on a summer wind. Some had even brushed their fingertips across her aureate skin, the sun-kissed colour being completely alien to the cool-tempered isle.

Corin liked Camelot, she couldn't deny that, the country was bursting with life and despite the less than desirable weather, the land was lush and green and beautiful in it's own right.

But a part of the Greek girl would always miss her homeland, whatever it had become now, and her heart ached to gaze upon the clear, cerulean water of the Aegean and hear the low, soft murmuring of the temple priests. The situation Corin found herself in made her smile bittersweetly; nothing behind her but a dying land and a forgotten religion, and before her a thriving country filled with people who welcomed her with open arms. But she found she could not wholly give herself to Briton and it's people, for Delos and her lost family still had a hold on her heart, however faded it was, and she feared that if she moved on and gave herself over to her new life he entire memory of her home would fade as well.

"Delos is your beginning, and it's very blood runs in your veins," Lancelot had told her.

"Maybe you are right, Sir Knight," Corin whispered into the air. "Maybe I will not forget."

Slowly, slowly, the coiled spring inside her unwound, and Corin began to let go.

A/N: Tada! Hope you liked. Review! And make sure you let me know what this should be rated.