Disclaimer: I don't own King Arthur or any of its characters. The King Arthur movie is the property of Touchstone Pictures. So there is no copyright infringement intended, nor do I intend to tick anyone off – so please don't sue me, I'm poor enough already and if you do you will only gain a rust bucket car, and a load of rescue animals that make Tristan look like a cakewalk! But I do own the story itself and the characters of Bethan, Sandrina and other non-King Arthurian types…. :O)

Celeste, Suriana, Torvald, Ysabeau, Alisia and Milo are 13th C. names and one I think fit here quite well. Avitus and Felicia are genuine Roman names. Tanwir, Rahil, Ehsan, Aaleyah and Ghauth are Muslim names meaning Enlightening, Path Guider, Powerful, Exalted and Helper/Defender respectively; and I think appropriate as Sarmatian names, considering that Sarmatia is now actually part of Iran.

This is my third King Arthur fanfic. It is based on the 2004 movie, as well as some legends I know a little about. I do not intend to rip off any other writer (I just can't wade through so many pages of stories to check, I'd lose the will to live!) so if this premise has been done before I'm sorry, I just hope mine is different enough for it not to be too boring. But if I digress from the movie and stuff a little, don't shoot me as I'm old and the brain (what little I have) is not what it used to be. Plus I might also change things to fit the story a little better –sorry. But that is what artistic license is all about! LOL!

I watched the film again recently, for the possibly the 200th time and had done a previous story called "Fallen Knights Return"…..this is a sequel that a lot readers have been asking about.

It's going to be dramatic, romantic as well as fairly funny…in places anyway….. It is nothing but fluff, so if you don't like romance and stuff please don't read it! If you read 'Fallen Knights' and liked it, hopefully you'll like this too.

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE AND SOME SEXUAL REFERENCES (though not graphic) SO READ AT YOUR OWN PERIL.

All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.

'Thoughts'

"Speech"

Anyway…on with the show!

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Bethan & Lucan

Chapter One – A Wedding is Announced

The gates opened and a young girl on horseback came flying through, with Gawain in hot pursuit; her hawk, Faith, wheeling high above her. Waist length blond hair flying behind her, with its ubiquitous plaits akin to her father's, and her blue eyes shining – Avitus grinned as she waved at him, flying past.

"I WON! I WON!" She gasped with delight as she leapt from her horse, Charity, and shot to the stable; slamming her hand on the wall moments before Gawain.

The young woman, wearing breeches and a thick cotton shirt over her slender frame, which was then covered by her own set of armour; a gift from the knights for her 16th birthday two months before. She leant her hands on her knees to catch her breath. Daggers sticking out of the back of her leather trousers, twin swords tied to her back, long sword hanging from her saddle and her bow and quiver hooked to her horse, she looked every inch the warrior she was.

Gawain grimaced "Only because I let you….."

"Liar, Liar! I won Gawain! I BEAT you - I BEAT SIR GAWAIN THE GREAT SARMATIAN KNIGHT!" She danced round him crowing with glee.

"For a 16 year old you are behaving worse than Milo! Bethan, did your father not tell you it is rude to gloat so?"

"Galahad does it all the time!" She grinned.

"Hardly 'all the time' Little Scout; he rarely bests me!" he smiled at her.

Avitus walked over "Lost again Gawain?"

"She is too much like her father!" sighed the knight, grinning easily.

Bethan hugged the Roman she had made friends with; they had a lot of the roman people from Germanius' village settled at the fort now. They were lovely people and adored her mother and the knights for what they had done for them in that dark time. In fact that was the main reason they had come to the wall.

They had the great move to come in a few weeks; Arthur planned to move to the Mid Lands of Briton, so that he was centrally based to go anywhere in the isle if needed. Also the people that were coming to settle with them were causing the fort to become overcrowded; still Arthur would refuse no one in need.

They had a strange mix; the odd Saxon, Celt, lots of Woads and some Romans - yet they all happily co-existed. There were concerns in the beginning that the Celt and Saxon settlers were either spies or would turn on them if their countrymen attacked. But after a couple of incursions from either side, it was apparent that they would not; they would fight for Arthur, and Arthur alone.

"Lucan is looking for you Bethan; you are apparently neglecting your wedding preparations." Avitus grinned.

Cocking her head to one side and hearing something that the others missed, she put her fingers to her lips as a signal to Avitus not to give them away "Quickly, in here – he is coming!" She tugged Gawain into the stable and out the back, quickly running to the tavern.

"Why are you avoiding him?" Asked Gawain with a grin.

"It is all this wedding frippery; it is driving me bloody mad! Do I want this dress or that one? Do I want lilies or roses in my hair? Who do I want to be with me on the morning of my wedding, in case of 'nerves'? When have I ever suffered from bloody nerves! Then Lucan starts, why have I not decided on this or that, or aught else entirely meaningless to me?

What is more important than riding as fast as our horses will gallop across the land outside; the sun on our backs, blue sky above us and the wind in our face, the freedom that comes with being able to run as far and as fast as we wish with no one to hinder us?

The solitude of a quiet wood with no disturbance save my own thoughts, and the call of my hawk; the excitement of a thunderstorm, where the thunder calls my name and writes my dreams in the lightening?" She recited with feeling the now unforgettable mantra that the children had for their dreams.

San had started it; Bethan had kept it going with Milo and now all the knights' children would get her to tell them every night before bed.

If Bethan was not there because she was out scouting with her father, then they would insist someone else do it; occasionally one of Bors' offspring would or Lucan, or even occasionally Milo or Dag's middle boy, Rahil.

"You know what I want?" she continued "I want to marry Lucan now, just do it; sod the dress, the flowers and that other bullshit and just live my life with him……..MILO!" She spied her 6½ year old brother who barrelled at her.

"Language! Your mother is going to kill us knights for all the bad language we have taught you!" Laughed Gawain.

"She would have to hear me first!"

"BEFAN!" His face lit into a huge grin, still using his baby name for her; their own unspoken habit.

She swept him up into an enormous hug"And how is my little man this fine morning? Did you miss me?"

"Aye, aye I did! I had a bad morning!" He pulled a face.

Bethan's eyes darkened instantly "Right! Come on!" She grabbed her brother's hand and went stalking off…

"KNIGHTS! FIGHT!" Shouted Gawain as they passed the others sitting outside the tavern.

They all leapt up; Bors sighed "I bet it is bloody Eight again! You would think he would learn – every time he picks a fight with Milo, she fights Gilly and then threatens him!"

Celeste, Suriana and Ehsan (Lancelot's twin girls and little boy), now 6 and 4 respectively ran after them; along with Tanwir and Rahil (Dagonet's adopted boys) now 5 and 7 respectively, Ghauth and Aaleyah (Galahad's son and daughter) aged 3 and 2 respectively, and finally Torvald and Felicia (Arthur's son and daughter) aged 5½ and 3 respectively.

Bethan was their hero, they all adored her; the knights often joked it was them all over again - just the differing ages caused a few problems at the moment, but when they were older another round table would be needed.

Bors' 12 children (now known simply as One, Ten or Three, etc – all except for his precious Gilly) had their own clique purely because they numbered so many themselves, and so the two camps would often battle good-naturedly; although if they felt threatened by any outside force they would form a tight-knit group numbering 23 (including Bethan and Lucan) in total, and were a formidable opponent to the various factions that tried to take them on.

Eight, now a robust 9 year old however, was the bane of Bethan's life; he idolized her and felt he had to show her how tough he was by constantly picking on her adored baby brother. When she tackled him and would bawl him out about it Gilly, now a towering 17 year old, would feel compelled to protect his sibling and soon the two would be pounding each other into the dirt.

The respective parents of the two had lost count of the amount of times black eyes and cut lips (Bethan) and black eyes, cut lips and broken noses (Gilly) they had had to tend over the past 5 years - today was to be no different.

Gilly had already been tipped off by Five that Eight had had yet another pop at Milo who had been busily telling his sister what had happened. Leaving the smithy where he worked he went to find his brother; only to find Bethan already telling him off.

"Oi! Do not yell at him!" He shouted, prepared for another fight.

However he still was not expecting the raging spitfire, blue eyes black with temper, that launched herself at him; and though he managed to get a couple of punches in, for the third time in 6 months, she broke his nose with one punch before head butting him and making him see stars.

"Do not mess with me; I am already pissed off about my bloody wedding!" She yelled at the boy as he lay on the ground dazed, blood pouring from his nose. She turned her attention back to Eight "See him?" she pointed at his sibling "Well, have another go at my bloody brother or any of this lot!" She indicated the rest of the other Knights' children "and I am telling you, you little sod, you will be lying next to him!"

She turned on her heel to walk away; Gilly shook his head and got to his feet going to make a grab at her, they all saw a breeze blow round her and she brought her elbow back catching him in the stomach, then stepped back stamping on his foot, before bringing the same arm back and up to punch him in the face - he dropped like a sack of potatoes to his knees. "I did tell you not to…" she said darkly.

The knights had watched going 'ooh' and 'aahhh' and wincing at each blow as Bethan had got the upper hand as usual. Bors would normally be incensed at his offspring losing a fight, particularly to a girl – but this was Bethan and it went with the territory.

She had a lump coming up between her eyes where she had knocked heads with Gilly, and a cut lip as well as a bruise already forming on her eye that would turn into a bit of a shiner; but apart from that she was reasonably unscathed this time.

The knights came over and congratulated her; she grinned good-naturedly as she calmed quickly, before going to help the recovering Gilly up with a shared grin "Same time next week?" he asked.

Then she went to the Tavern to see her mother. "Have you been fighting again?" Sandrina sighed, looking at the lump, bruised eye and blood dripping from her bottom lip.

"Aye…but…." Bethan began to explain, wiping her mouth on her sleeve.

"With Gilly, over Eight and Milo….again?"

"Aye….but…."

"Bethan" San sighed "In two short weeks you will be married; Lucan will not want you behaving so…" San could see the blue eyes darkening with anger and realised too late she had said the wrong thing…..again.

"I don't give a sh….sugar what he thinks! If he expects me to sit around and play 'little maids' he better marry someone else because I intend to go on just as before. I want to be a warrior and a scout Mama, I have always wanted to be a warrior and a scout and that is what I will be! I am sick to death of this fu…….fudging wedding!" with that she stalked away.

Sandrina sighed, sitting and putting her head in her hands "What would you do with her?" she asked Van.

Her friend sat beside her "She is a young woman, and then again she is not. She is female on the outside and a warrior on the inside. She is as tough as old boots your Bethan, and I love that about her. She is as wild as the wind and as free as her hawk. The problems only arise when anyone wants to start tying her down." they watched the teenager standing outside laughing with the knights, her anger cooled as quickly as it roared into life.

Lucan, now a handsome 18 year old came up; she rushed to him and flung her arms round his neck kissing him soundly. He had looked annoyed; but, when she kissed him, they could all see it melt away as his rigid arms left his side and hauled her closer to him.

Ilara would joke that he would tame the wild wind that was Bethan, but the others knew that was not true; all he could hope for at best was to hang onto her arm as she flew through life, and try to enjoy the ride……

"She knows him like a book, does she not?" laughed San.

"Well, it has been 9 years – if she did not, I would wonder why they were marrying!"

"I do not know Van, they love each other a lot – are completely devoted to each other…..but…." her face clouded.

"What?"

"I just feel they are still children."

"I took with Bors at 14; my sister with her lover at 15. She is not so young to wed, San. You are just being a typical mother hen!"

The young couple walked away giggling; but minutes later she was back with a face like thunder.

"I am not marrying him! I am not, and you cannot make me!"

"What has happened now!" Laughed Lancelot, as she entered the Tavern.

She mimicked Lucan with ease, as she did them all, "I agree with San, Bethan; you need to be a wife first and aught else after. I am afraid I could not allow you to fight….or suchlike…."

"What did you say?" asked Galahad knowing what was coming. Bethan's temper was becoming as legendary as her mother's; it was certainly easier to ignite!

"It was not what I said - more what I did!" she stated defiantly.

"What!" all the knights chorused.

"I pushed him face first in the dung heap; and told him as he was talking horseshit, he might as well eat it as well!"

She was greeted by gales of hysterical laughter from the knights. Even Tristan, not long returned from a scouting mission, hung his head to hide the merriment in his eyes. He adored his daughter; adored the wildness about her, the joy she took out of just living every day.

Bors got up and clapped her on the back "That is my little scout! Are you sure you are not one of my bastards!" He grinned.

"Nay, I am my father's daughter; and none orders me about except my father and my King." She inclined her head to Arthur and Tristan, who were still trying to contain their laughter. "and on this issue not even they would I listen to!"

At that moment Lucan stumble in reeking and wiping manure out of his face, which set the knights off again. "I would not marry you now if you were the last woman alive……you….you… HARPY!" He cried, before heading home to bathe and change.

"GOOD!" she shouted back "then mayhap I can have my bloody life back at last!" She stormed off in the opposite direction.

"Sounds like when you and Amila first met Lancelot! In fact it sounds like you two most of the time now!" Roared Bors.

Lancelot grinned happily "Ah, but knights….the making up again!" he grinned mischievously, and they all fell about once more.

"It is all your bloody fault!" Laughed Sandrina "You all taught her…."

"Oh and you are such a lady; my sister and fellow knight!" he smirked, pulling her into his lap "what is it you said to me once "I am no lady Lancelot, and nor would I wish to ever be one"?"

"Oh you devil! How do you remember everything I say, only to throw it back at me when it suits you?" She pinched his ear playfully.

"My wife taught me all I know!" he hugged her to him. "So it is not only our faults she is as wild as the wind, but yours also; and I doubt you can do aught about it now!" he smiled, then sobered "but honestly San, would you want to break her spirit? Would you want her to be meek and obedient; to take away the zest she has for life? She lives her whole life at breakneck speed, and I for one salute her for it."

She shook her head, tears welling knowing he was describing Bethan as only a proud family member could.

"I would not wish her any other way; the way she rides, scouts, fights - everything is done to the very best she can. You have to admire and love that determination about her." Gawain spoke quietly and proudly; he was now the closest to her next to her father, as Dagonet had become more caught up in his own family life.

"Aye, I would love to be like her; to see life the way she does." Ysabeau came out of the kitchens and sat on Gawain's knee, planting a kiss on his waiting lips.

"You are all right of course; Van says I am being a mother hen." There was much head nodding and she went to playfully slap her husband "YOU are not meant agree!"

He scooped her up into his arms and growled "It has been 3 days since I have seen you woman, I fancy moving some furniture!" and walked out of the tavern with the others hollering and laughing at them.

San buried her head in his shoulder and kissed his neck, softly darting her tongue over the skin "Continue like that and I might drop to the ground and make love to you right here…." He murmured into her ear, merriment in his voice.

"You would not dare!" she challenged, grinning up at him.

He went as if to drop her "alright, alright you demon - pax, pax!"

She pushed his hair out of his eyes, rubbing her thumb over his tattoos as she always had a habit to do "Love me…."

"You know I do….." his voice thick with love and passion; they made it to their room, though it felt like forever.

She kissed him passionately as he stood her on her feet; three days apart was too long for them, more like an eternity. He deftly removed her clothing as she helped him get out of his. He laid her on their bed "I love you" he muttered against the skin on her neck "and I miss you…."

"When?" she groaned as his hands and lips played havoc with her senses.

"Whenever we are apart; you are the other half to me San. The other half…." His lips trailed her body, scouting every inch of it as he did the trails around the fort……

Her own hands and mouth making him growl with the desire to love her; show her physically how she ruled his world.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Meanwhile elsewhere in the fort Bethan was talking to Gawain as she brushed Charity down.

"I do not know Gawain. I love him I really do; he is mine always, but he drives me mad with his want to tie me down. I need to be free….I will not, cannot, be tied." She sighed in aggravation.

Then suddenly a thought occurred to her "Why is he not a knight? Or at least training? I am – to be both knight and scout." She looked at her friend; large blue eyes regarded brilliant green ones.

"He never wanted to. He is happy working at the smithy with Gilly and Thurston; We would never force him" he thought for a moment "I think knowing Dag died, seeing all the death around from the battles; losing Lancelot and Tristan, however briefly" he grinned at the memory of what had brought this living tornado and her mother into their lives in the first place "I think it changed him. He will fight, and well - but only when necessary."

"I see; I thought mayhap, if he trained as I do, then he might understand; but if he does not wish it….." she tailed off.

"But it is not just about being a knight and a scout. You are wild my little scout; you are part Woad and part Sarmatian" No one ever mentioned her roman blood, that part of her may as well have not existed – Tristan was her father and that was it "that is a deadly combination to anyone; but put your indomitable spirit into the mix as well" He grinned ruefully "He will understand as we do…..one day." He hugged her tight.

She turned and buried her head in his chest, hugging him back "Thanks Gawain…" he heard her mutter against him.

"Any time….now, I am off for food, want some?"

She shook her head, "if I do not fix Charity just right, she will try and throw me the next time I mount her; you know what an old fusspot she is…" She grinned as the horse swung her head to look at her and stamped her hoof "You are, you know you are! She is, is she not Faith!" she appealed to the hawk resting on the stable door; who in turn keened and flapped her wings "See, even the bloody hawk thinks so!" The mare merely snorted; almost in derision.

Gawain wandered off laughing; sometimes it was almost as if she could talk to those bloody animals. All of them in fact; like her mother, their mounts adored her. That was why Arthur had her earn her keep in the stables; and she loved it. Their horses were never more well cared for, more loved.

Jols had told him once that when she entered of a morning they would all whinny and stamp their hooves; and she would call out "Hello boys, miss me?" And then her mare would snort and she would say "Oh my lady, I would not forget my favourite girl!" She would then go to each stall and fuss the horse occupying it; it was a ritual she did every day, and they seemed to like it as much as she.

He saw Lucan heading toward the stables; it amazed him how drawn they were to each other, always eager to make up – he could see why they all thought of Lancelot and Amila!

But this was one time Bethan would not back down – she loved Lucan, loved him like no other; but she would not let him own her - no man ever would. They all accepted that and admired her for it; it was just a shame the boy could not understand as easily.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Lucan entered the barn and watched her with the horses, they both knew by now that she knew he was there. It was a knack she had, he could never explain it; but there was so much about her he could never explain - she was a total mystery to him 99.9 of the time.

She would flare up and cool down; and he had learnt long ago to never, ever complain about the knights. Not even his father; and, most especially, not Gawain or Tristan. She would defend them to the last breath in her body, she would brook no negative comment or slight on them.

She was passionate; and he knew she had often defended him the same way as they had grown. But in a way he resented the passions she displayed that the knights understood so easily. He was a Briton; by rights he should understand her more than most, yet he knew of all of them he understood her least.

He sighed, he was unsure of his next move – she often had him like this, on the wrong step to her. Usually by now she would have come to see him and they would have been laughing about whatever it was they had disagreed on.

But not this time, this time was one of those times she felt she was right and not even Tristan, Arthur or Gawain themselves would change her mind. She admired Arthur, looked up to him immensely. As her King she would obey; but again, like Tristan or Gawain, only to a point.

But they let her do it; let her be her own person and so here they both were.

She turned round and walked up to him. He watched her walk, she moved with a confident, determined step as if every one was pre-planned. Her blue eyes softened as they locked with his dark green ones and then her arms were round his neck.

He pulled her roughly to him, hugging her tightly. He knew he was probably squeezing the breath from her body, but he wanted to push her inside him and hold her there forever. But even as he had the thought he let her go, that was what she was fighting against.

"I am sorry" he understood a little now "I am sorry I am so possessive and stupid…."

She silenced him with a deep and passionate kiss, twining her fingers in his wavy hair as she knew he liked her to do; then caressed his cheek with one hand. When they broke apart both were breathless. "You are not stupid Lucan! Do not ever say that again. I love you, I love you so much; but I cannot be owned, and it is your possessiveness that is my main gripe with you."

"I know, I will do better – I will try…." She nipped his chin, her lips then slowly caressing his bottom lip; he groaned "I do not know if I can wait another two weeks. Bethan….Bethan….what you do to me…." He gasped as he hauled her against him once more; the heat between them building until he thought he should catch fire.

She broke free her eyes heavy with desire for this man who she could not always live with, but could not imagine ever being without. She adored him so much; he would never know how she adored him.

She had never wanted to love him; even as children, she had thought his determination to marry her was a game. But then they got older and she saw him for the fine boy he was, and a now he was a fine man; just like his father.

They would play and work together, and one day it just hit her – she loved him, she wanted to always be with him. She had been 13 and he 15; they had been fooling around and she had just thought 'I love him….. I really love him.'

She had told him and he had grinned and laughed and swung her round, that same day they became betrothed.

"So the wedding is back on then?" she arched an eyebrow at him, nibbling his bottom lip once more.

"Was it ever really off?"

She smiled "Not to me; I could not not marry you Lucan - I love you too much. I want you too much." She drew his head down and kissed him once more to show how much. Once again they were left panting as they parted. "Let us do it now! Let us marry today!" she suddenly exclaimed.

"WHAT?"

"I told Gawain all I wanted was just to marry you and live my life. I do not want the wedding and all that bullshit; I just want you!"

"It is driving you mad, is it not? But would they agree? What of Merlin?" He grinned, ever practical.

"It is, they would and if I know my Shaman blood he will already be on his way here; he knows these things."

He grasped her hand and for once let her wildness dictate where they went "Aye….I do not want us to spend another night apart Bethan!"

She leapt on him, wrapping her arms round his neck once more and her legs round his waist "Thank you Lucan – oh thank you!"

He wandered outside with her clinging to him like this; his arms wrapped round her and shouted "WE ARE GETTING MARRIED!"

"Now tell us something we do not know!" Laughed Gawain, as he was sparring with Galahad.

"Nay, TODAY!"

Gawain said afterwards, as Dagonet was stitching the wound on his arm, that Galahad took an unfair advantage as he dropped his sword in shock; Galahad's defence was he fell forward in his own surprise at the announcement, and Gawain just happened to be in the way………