Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry! That wasn't supposed to take that long, but five minutes after I would sit down to write something would come along to distract me. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, you're support is fantastic. Hope you are all still reading and enjoying this chapter, I'll try to update quicker next time.

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 world with light, like the rising of the moon.

Crescent Moon

By katemary77

Chapter Eight: Flooded Fields

The moon is at her full, and riding high,

Floods the calm fields with light.

The airs that hover in the summer sky

Are all asleep to-night.
- William Cullen Bryant, The Tides

"Have they been feeling much better?"

Tristan nodded as he nocked an arrow to his bow. "Much. Thank you."

Corin nodded and also readied her bow. "Good, then. But don't think just because your hands feel better now, you can stop treating them."

The scout nodded half-exasperatedly, half-amusedly. "Aye, Corin, I know. You tell me every morning."

She smirked and fired her arrow into the air. "My apologies, Sir Tristan. I do not mean to nag."

"No, we've already got Vanora for that," he replied mischievously.

Corin snorted. "Right you are. Just the other day she started pestering me about how I should 'find a man and settle down, while I'm still young,'" she told him.

"And what did you tell her," Tristan chuckled.

"Well," she began, as she took aim with her bow, "I told her that the only men I feel comfortable around are you knights, and so she told me to marry one of you. But then I pointed out that, really, you're all a bit ugly, so if she really wants to see me tied down, she'll have to give me Bors."

Tristan laughed outright. "I'm thinking that Vanora wouldn't take to well to that."

"Aye, she didn't," Corin snickered. "Told me to get out of her house before Bors came back. Nice shot," she commented, nodding towards the arrow Tristan had just embedded into the wooden target.

"Thanks," he nodded. "How's your training with Lancelot going?"

She laughed. "Dismal. I'm certainly not meant to be a warrior."

"Not a lot of people are," Tristan countered. "They are just forced to be."

"Like you," Corin pointed out. "Like you and the others."

Tristan shook his head. "No. We knights were born to fight. It is in our blood."

"Why do you not leave? Why do you not desire to be free?" she asked with innocent curiosity.

Tristan gave a little shrug. "Because I already am."

-

Tilting her head up to the sky, Corin smiled happily as the sun's rays slid over her, washing her face in golden light and taking her back to her days on the sunny isle of Delos; the lush green rainforest coming alive with the Lady's wild things, soft white sand beneath her toes, clear blue water lapping lazily upon the shore.

"Corin? Where are you just now?"

Languorously, she turned with eyes half-closed and grinned at Lancelot. "Far, far away."

Smirking, he threw an arm around Corin's waist, squeezing her against him. "Well, how about you let me take you far, far away?"

She raised an eyebrow curiously.

"'Tis beautiful day," Lancelot explained, gesturing wildly at the perfect blue sky. "Let us not waste it, for fine weather is a rare thing in this country. What would you say to taking a ride?"

Corin nodded cheerily. "That, my dear friend, sounds wonderful." Still smirking, the knight took Corin's hand in his own, dragging her towards the stables, where Midnight and Callisto, already saddled, stood waiting for them. "My, my, you certainly were confident I would join you," Corin laughed.

He shrugged. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist my charms," Lancelot told her. "Besides," he added with a loose smile, "if you'd said no, I would've just found some other fair maiden to take along with me."

"Yeah, yeah, lover-boy," Corin chuckled as he lifted her onto Callisto. "Whatever you say. The women of this town have long since learned not to dally with you."

Lancelot adopted a look of mock-scandal upon his face, which soon turned to rogue smugness. "But they still do."

Corin laughed outright, the sound musical and bell-like, as she playfully slapped Lancelot in the chest. "Oh, Lancelot, you're a regular scarlet woman!"

-

They rode for a few hours, hours that were filled with laughter and playful banter and light, easy conversation, before the stopped in the centre of a large meadow for their afternoon meal. Passing her a honey-cake, Lancelot took a moment to survey his riding companion. Corin was wearing her plain riding gear and her hair was held back in a simple, loose braid that fell down her back in a thick, golden rope. Her face, rosy and bright from riding, was peaceful as she gazed contentedly around the field they were in. She took a careful bite from the cake, her hand coming underneath her mouth to capture any escaping crumbs.

"You're beautiful," he blurted suddenly, unabashedly.

Corin frowned up at him and hurried to swallow her mouthful. "Huh?"

He laughed at her perplexity. "I was telling you that you're beautiful, that's all."

"Oh," she said uncertainly, a blush creeping onto her face. "Er, thank you, I think…"

"You're welcome," Lancelot smiled, collapsing onto the long grass, his hands behind his head in a relaxed pose.

Corin, finished with her honey-cake, dusted of her hands and imitated Lancelot's position on the grass beside him. "Wow, look at those storm clouds," she said, pointing out a cluster of almost black clouds heading their way from the North.

"Where did they come from!" the knight exclaimed, wondering how they had escaped his notice.

Corin shrugged. "Still sunny here." Rolling onto her stomach, Corin propped herself onto her shoulders and gave Lancelot a piercing stare. "What's it like? Love?"

Brow furrowed, Lancelot asked, "What do you mean?"

Corin gave a nonchalant shrug. "As I said before, you have a reputation as a womaniser, back at Camelot," she told him. "You've slept with practically all the unattached women in the city, and probably half of the attached ones as well."

"Well," Lancelot began, somewhat smugly, "not all of them – "

"All the pretty ones," she amended swiftly. "I was just wondering what it's like - love?"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute," Lancelot said, moving so his elbows supported his upper body. "It's not like I ever loved any of these women – "

Corin groaned impatiently and interrupted again. "Honestly, are all men so thick? I'm not taking about love love, I just mean… you know, love."

"Ah," Lancelot breathed, realisation dawning, "you mean sex."

"If you must put it so bluntly," she said exasperatedly. "Yes, I mean making love."

"But Corin, I said before I wasn't in love with any of those women, and I think you have to be in love with someone to 'make love,' as you put it – "

"For the God's sake, man, you know what I mean!"

He laughed. "Yes, it think I do, but Corin, you've… well, you've…"

"I am not a virgin, yes, but I have never made love, or whatever you want to call it," she said quietly.

"Well," Lancelot answered thoughtfully, "it is a very beautiful thing. And I think that if you did it with a person you were in love with, it would be… absolute bliss."

She nodded silently.

"Why do you ask?"

She shrugged. "Before Antonius, I had never known the touch of a man."

"Never? But surely Acheron kissed – "

"Never," Corin interjected. "To touch a High Priestess of Artemis, or any of the virgins gods, even just a kiss, is blasphemy in the highest form. I was truly pure, in all sense of the word." She smiled softly. "And then I saw Vanora and Bors the other day, and they just looked so happy, so in love, and I thought that having thirteen kids, it must be pretty darn good, you know?"

Lancelot nodded and smiled, bringing a hand to gently trace Corin's cheek. Before Lancelot knew what was happening, he and Corin were edging closer together, her curved lips parting slightly, her eyelids fluttering closed, their lips almost touching. But then, a clap of thunder sounded, startling them apart, and the Heavens opened up.

-

Corin laughed gaily as she slid off Callisto's back. Her hair, plastered to her forehead, had turned a dark brown, and her clothes stuck to her body. Lancelot, in much the same condition as Corin, threw her a wry grin. They had found shelter from the raging storm that beat down upon the land in a nearby forest, where the canopy was too thick to let the rain through.

"We'll have to wait it out," Lancelot told Corin as he unsaddled his horse. "We're at least three hours from Camelot, and we can't ride through that storm; we'd catch our death."

Corin nodded, jumping and giving a startled gasp when a particularly vicious clap of thunder sounded.

Lancelot chuckled. "You're not scared, are you?"

She shook her head vehemently. "Just startled, that's all."

"Ah, of course," he said, and then smiled roguishly. "Well, I'm going to go and find some firewood." Whistling merrily, Lancelot stalked off into the woods, pausing to look back and wink at Corin, before resuming his gait and disappearing from site.

Corin stood on her own for a while, eyes flicking frenziedly around the encroaching forest, before swearing crossly and hurrying off after Lancelot, scowl set on her face. "Stupid bloody knight…. I am NOT afraid!" Turning the corner, Corin expected to find Lancelot standing there, an infuriating smirk on his face, but instead, found no one, just the rapidly darkening forest.

"Lancelot?" she called, peering into the woods. "Lancelot, I know you're out there, you great oaf!" Growling, Corin pouted and stamped her foot impatiently. "Lancelot!" she whined, "don't be horrible!" And still, no one came. "Lancelot! Lancelot!"

A worried frown upon her face, Corin gathered her courage as another clap of thunder sounded, and strode purposefully further into the woods. "Lancelot, you better come out right now – "

Corin shrieked when someone grabbed her waist roughly from behind, and turned to pelt her assailant with her tiny fists. "Lancelot you rogue! I'll wring your bloody neck! You incorrigible, insufferable little twerp!" Stopping her attack, Corin looked up to see Lancelot chuckling mirthfully, and pushed him gruffly in the chest before yanking his shoulders towards her and pulling him into a tight embrace. "You scared me, you idiot," she murmured, and then stepped away, throwing the knight a disgusted glare when he continued laughing at her.

"Ah, if looks could kill…" he joked, leading Corin back to the horses.

"You would be a bloody mess on the ground."

-

Corin shivered slightly and shuffled closer to the firelight. Both she and Lancelot had checked the weather conditions outside of the small forest throughout the afternoon, only to find that the summer storm was still raging on.

"We'll have to sleep here, then," Lancelot said with a weary sigh, plopping down besides Corin.

She nodded. "We've still got some food in the saddlebags," Corin managed to get out through her chattering teeth.

"Cold?" Lancelot asked with a smirk.

She grimaced. "I do not understand this country; one minute the sun is shining, and the next it's storming and the temperature's dropped fifteen bloody degrees!"

He chuckled and moved closer, throwing his arm around the shivering girl. "You get used to it," Lancelot told her as she nestled into his warmth.

The corner of Corin's mouth quirked. "Is that a promise?"

Before he could answer, the sharp crack of a twig breaking resonated around the forest, and both Lancelot and Corin's heads snapped around to survey the wooded area behind them. Slowly, Lancelot drew his dagger and nodded to Corin to get behind him. But instead, the Greek girl stepped away from the knight's shadow and took a tentative step towards the dark trees, her eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Look," she whispered, her slim hand reaching out to what Lancelot could now make out as a young fawn, emerging from the dusk. Its eyes were wide and skittish as the fawn took a shaky step towards Corin and the fire. Dully, Lancelot noticed Corin murmuring quietly to the animal, in an attempt to coax the creature further toward her. But before she could get any closer, the fawn jumped and scampered away, leaving a few rustling leaves in it's wake. Corin watched the fawn disappear into the gloom with a dismayed, dull tint in her blue eyes, making them appear almost lifeless. She sighed and let her hand drop numbly to her side.

"Corin? Is something the matter?"

Starting, Corin turned to Lancelot and gave him a dazzling smile. "Nay, nothing at all. Come, let us prepare supper." And with that she turned back to the fire, all thoughts of wild creatures gone from her mind.

-

When Lancelot's eyes opened, all he could see was enveloping, smothering darkness and for a moment, chaotic, errant thoughts entered the knight's mind as he wondered if he had perhaps gone blind. But then, the black eased and he was able to make out their small, dead fire and the shadowy silhouettes of Midnight and Callisto in the moonless night, the forests canopy too thick to let even the slightest light slither through.

His black eyes searched for Corin, and found her only a few feet from himself, huddled on the ground and shivering in her slumber. Lancelot frowned; he could've sworn Corin had been on the other side of the fire when they had lay down to sleep. His frown deepening, Lancelot loosed the clasp that kept his cloak around his neck and swept the material over Corin, tucking the edges in underneath her. Laying back down considerably closer than he had been, Lancelot spooned the Greek girl against his chest, his arms wrapping around her securely, and fell back to sleep.

-

"Good morning, sunshine," a cheery voice called as Lancelot groggily rubbed the remnants of sleep from his eyes. Turning, he found Corin standing beside a saddled Callisto, gently rubbing the mare behind her ears. "There's a little dried fruit left in the saddlebag for you," she told him, "but we really should hurry; it is already an hour past sunrise."

Lancelot laughed. "Indeed we should, Lady Corin, I shudder to think what manner of search party Arthur has looking for us."

She nodded. "And I'm sure you were sorely missed at the tavern last night, those poor bar wenches would've had to make do with Gawain and Galahad!"

"Poor bar wenches indeed," Lancelot chuckled.

Corin grunted. "Come on, Adonis, let's get you back to Camelot."

A/N: Ugh. Totally hate this chapter. It just feels so wrong. Do you agree? Either way, please review and inspire some inspiration into me. What I was trying to convey (not very well) in Corin's convo about sex with Lance is that she is extremely naive and innocent to anything to do with men. Acheron was always a brotherly figure, although she did love him, and everything Corin knows about sex and men and all that is based upon her treatment by the Romans. Although she does understand that that kind of treatment isn't normal, she isn't quite sure what to expect. She is incrediably ignorant and unexperienced when it comes to matters of the heart. Please review!