No One, But You

by Marie9000

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the movie King Arthur. Thank you.

A/N: Here it is, the Badon Hill battle chapter. Just about every King Arthur story has one. This has to be the longest chapter I've written for any of my stories. Okay, I gots a question for ya'll. Do you think that Lancelot should be paired with a really forward, confident girl or a shy, somewhat insecure girl? I'm leaning toward the shy one since that'd be an interesting thing to write about, but you all let me know. You can put it in your review, email it to me, or if you have MSN Messenger, IM me. I'm – Thank you, thank you. I was all excited about writing this chapter cause it means I can open a new relationship for Tristan and Isolde. Hee hee XD


MORWEN12 – THANK YOU, HERE IT IS. Lol, sorry, when people review in all caps it makes me giggle.

Elfvamp1-13-97 – I better, huh? Geez, you're all getting a little forceful with this updating thing. XP

ThePonderosa – Thanks! I was worried about making him OOC, it almost kept me up at night. J/K.

Captain Annie – Description, yes. I hopefully did that more in this chapter. I'm telling ya, this battle scene almost killed me. I told my friend Aseawen 'de typing, de typing, it hurts, it hurts!'

newsieskane – Aw thanks! It'd be so cool if there were more guys like Tristan, ne for each of us, and a Lancelot for each girl that wants him. That's my idea of paradise, cause then we wouldn't all be fighting over them.


Evelyn sat next to the bed in which Dagonet laid. The boy, Lucan, was asleep on the other side. She sighed, taking the mixing bowl, which laid in her lap, in a firmer grip and began to grind the herbs inside.

The room was quite nice and homey. The bed was the main part of the room. There was a small wooden table on her right. Before it had been clear, but was now covered with bottles, bowls, and herbs of many colors. There was a chest at the end of the bed that no doubt held the man's clothes. This room was not what she had imagined a Roman to have.

She glanced up at Dagonet's sleeping face. He was not what most would consider typically handsome. He had a shaved head and a long scar, which went over his left eye. He was very tall and obviously strong. Even though a few of the young girls back in the Woad village would think her insane, Evelyn thought the large man to be quite fetching.

She set her mixing bowl down on the small table and stood up. Bending over Dagonet she inspected his wound. The bleeding had finally stopped and with the right herbs and care, there would be no infection. Smoothing his bandage down, she looked up at his face.

"Gah!" she cried, jerking up to quickly. She lost her balance and fell to the floor. A groggy Lucan sat up, rubbing his eyes. He stood up, looking at Evelyn disheveled on the floor. He then looked to Dagonet and smiled, quickly flinging himself on the man, hugging him.

"See," Evelyn said, getting up off the floor and dusting herself off. "I told you that you'd be the first to know when he awoke."

Dagonet brought his left arm up and put it around the boy. As he did, he looked at Evelyn, unsure of what to think.

"Alright, Lucan? Will you go and tell Arthur and the others that he has woken?" Evelyn asked him.

The boy looked up at her, hesitating, but Dagonet gave his hand a squeeze and gave what could be a nod. The boy took this as a sign to go. As he slipped out the door, Evelyn went back over to the small table and proceeded to ground herbs once more. She had her back turned away from Dagonet, but stopped what she was doing when she felt a hand lightly touch her arm.

Turning, she found Dagonet staring at her. "Are you…one of Arthur's…angels?" he asked, breathing was still hard for him.

"Angel?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. "What is an angel?"

"Dag!" Bors yelled from the doorway. He bounded in, beaming. Arthur followed him as well as the other knights.

"He is fine?" Arthur asked.

Evelyn nodded, looking each knight over.

Bors looked at her, "We'll be leavin' in the mornin'. Will he be able to travel?"

"Leaving?" Evelyn tried to hide her disappointment.

"Of course," the young bearded knight said. "We're free now, and we're all going home to Sarmatia."

"He's a Sarmatian?" she asked, more to herself. She had thought him to be a Roman, but was pleased to know he wasn't.

"Lady," the long fair-haired knight said. "Will he be able to travel?"

"Oh," she said, breaking away from her staring at Dagonet. "Yes, as long as he stays in bed for a few more days. I will give you the herbs you will need to put on his wounds. They will help keep away infection."

Turning to the table, she sorted the herbs and began to explain to Bors what must be done.

"Must you leave?" Lucan's small voice asked.

Evelyn gave him a sad smile, "I'm afraid so. There is to be a battle tomorrow and I will be needed."

She reached out and affectionately touched his head. Lucan leaned forward and hugged her tightly. At first, she was surprised, but wrapped her arms around the boy.

"You'll watch him and make sure he heals, won't you?" she said, smiling. A nod was her response. "Good."

Letting go of the boy, she stood quickly and giving a nod to each knight, she left.


"Artorius!" Isolde snapped her head up, looking out of the thick, dark trees. Were the knights actually going to help the Woads?

"Rus!" She could make out the form of Arthur on horseback. He was dressed in his Roman armor and ready for battle. Beyond him she could almost make out the caravan leaving the fort. The one yelling, who she guessed was Bors, was riding back to it. She could barely make out the other six knights. Evelyn had told her that Dagonet would be in a wagon, so he would not be riding.

"Isolde," she turned around.

A tall, older woman with long, dark hair and slightly darker skin stood watching her.

"Mother?" Isolde asked, wondering what the woman wanted.

Roxanna stepped forward, looking out toward the caravan. "Which is he?" she asked, curious.

Isolde gave her a confused look, "Who?'

Roxanna smiled at her daughter, "The man who defeated you."

Isolde could not stop the scowl forming on her face; Kalen and his big mouth. "So, you know?" she said, slowly.

Her mother only nodded in response.

Growling, Isolde stalked off, "I'll kill Kalen."


The Saxon drums thundered through the woods and over the great wall. The horse Bors was riding suddenly wielded up, frightened. Every horse in the caravan followed suite. The knights could only try to soothe and calm their horses, which had turned to the wall.

"Shh," Lanceleot murmered quietly, slowly stroking his steeds neck. He looked up, turning his gaze on Bors, Gawain, Galahad, and finally to Tristan.

Tristan looked to the hawk on his arm. "Hey," she said, quietly, clicking his tongue. "You're free." He raised his arm and the hawk took off into the sky.

Bors looked to Vanora and his children. One of the boys raised his hand and waved, sadly. Lancelot nodded at this and looked to Gawain, silently asking. Gawain nodded and Lancelot looked to the sky, a small smile on his face. As he did this the other knights began to smile and Galahad broke into an all out grin.


"I'm sorry, sister," Kalen said. Isolde had gone after him and now had him up against a tree, a dagger to his throat.

"I swear," he continued in their native tongue. "I wouldn't have, but-"

He stopped, suddenly, looking over her shoulder, past the trees. Her brow furrowed in confusion, she turned to see what he was staring at. Her breath hitched in her throat as she looked to the hill Arthur was on.

No longer was there a lone rider, now there were six; each with a standard and in full armor.

"Goddess: she breathed out. "They're to fight with us."

"Saxon! Saxon! Saxon!"

Isolde turned her head, sharply, to look out beyond the wall. One of the Saxon infantries was moving and yelling that annoying chant. Turning to Kalen, she grabbed his arm, "Go! Tell the others now!"


"Knights," Arthur spoke to the five men as though they were ten thousand, clearly and forcefully. "The gift of freedom is yours by right."

The loud chant of 'Saxon! Saxon! Saxon!' continued on with the thud of footsteps and clanging armor.

"But the home we seek resides not in some distant land! It's in us! And in our actions this day!" Arthur continued. He spoke passionately, from his heart, "If this be our destiny, then so be it. But let history remember that as free men, we chose to make it so."

His horse had been moving before his knights, back and forth. Now, he kept it still as he withdrew Excalibur.

There was a resounding 'Rus!' from the knights as they stabbed their standards into the earth. Drawing his bow, Tristan knocked an arrow and scanned the horizon with it. Taking aim, he shot it.


Distantly, beyond the wall in a great tree, a British scout fell down dead, an arrow in his chest.


The Saxon infantry rushed the great wall. They entered the wall gates, ready to fight, but broke off their run when they realized there were no enemies. In silence, they looked around, but found only fire, smoke, and fog.

"There! On the hill!" one yelled out.

Through the fire and smoke the Saxons could just make out the six horsemen. One Saxon called out an order and they began to march forward again. Only one Saxon took notice of the wall gates closing behind them.


In the woods, Isolde stood next to Guinevere, waiting. She watched as the Saxons marched forward. She scowled thinking of what would happen if the Woads failed today.

Guinevere held up her bow, aiming. Isolde and the Woad archers followed. She picked out a target and as she fired, one thought went through her mind, "I would rather die than become a Saxon whore."

The arrows showered down onto the unknowing Saxons, while Arthur and the knight rode through, slicing as they went. They disappeared into the smoke just as the Saxons turned.

More arrows came down, and with them the knights rode through, slicing. Isolde smiled as she heard the Saxons screams and yells.


Cerdic stood waiting. There had been screams and cries of agony, but now there was only silence. Cynric clutched the hilt of his sword, nervousness flooding him.

The gate creaked open just enough that one bloody Saxon could stagger out, crawling to Cerdic. He was within feet of the Saxon leader when he croaked out, "The knights are demons. That is the gate to hell."

The Saxon, Raewald, ended the mans life swiftly with his axe, and looked up to Cerdic. Seeing his leader's arm lift, Raewald shouted an order to the army.


Far above on a grassy, wet hill, Merlin stepped forward and looked out to the battlefield.


The sounds of armor being pounded and shouting could be heard through the woods. The sea of Saxons followed Cerdic. Isolde almost snorted, it seemed they couldn't decide whether to run or march.

She watched carefully as the Saxon's split once they came through the gate. A small flank was coming to the left while the main army continued to the right.

She looked to Merlin, he continued to stand and watch as Kalen and groups of Woads pushed their great, wooden catapults up to the hill.

Isolde and Guinevere said nothing as their arrows were lit. Isolde stared out at the battlefield, picking a target; a Saxon, with long, blonde hair and a particularly ugly helmet.

She raised her bow and arrow with Guinevere and let it fly. The arrows lit up the black smoke and effectively took out many in the left flank.

Guinevere put down her bow and Isolde waited, holding her sword. This was it, the moment she had anxiously awaited all night.

The knights on the hill rode down into battle, and great balls of fire fell to the ground. A sudden burst completely separated the Saxons with a firewall.

She heard Guinevere's yell to charge and held up her sword, yelling at the top of her lungs. She ran, screaming, toward the Saxons through the grass. The second she was within a foot of them she found herself slicing through.


The knights had all been knocked off their horse, except Tristan, and were in the process of killing.

Isolde yelled out as another Saxon fell to her feet. She grinned madly, looking for more. The Saxon, Raewald, was before her, unsuspecting. Running, she jumped onto his back, attempting to cut his throat.

He grunted and began to struggle. She grimaced; the man was too large for one to take him down. She tried to reach into her boot for a dagger, but her grip was loosened. Raewald, seeing an opportunity, swung her off of his back.

The next thing she knew, she was on her back, the wind knocked out of her, on the other side of the firewall.

"Damn," she swore, getting up quickly. One Saxon ran towards her holding an axe. She grabbed a sword on the ground and ran him through, wincing as his axe cut her shoulder.

Looking up to a small clearing in the battle, she saw Tristan facing the Saxon leader.


Cerdic dropped his axe to the ground, staring at the dark man before him. He slowly withdrew his sword.

Tristan brought his hand up, wiping his forehead and brushing his hat off. He held his sword with both hands, never taking his eyes off the Saxon.

He charged at the man, but found himself countered, easily. Their swords clashed and they found themselves standing before each other, swords pointed. They stared for a moment, before they each took a step backward.


Guinevere ran toward Cynric, lunging at him. She was ready and eager to fight him, she held and axe and sword, while he had a sword and shield. He swung but she blocked, grinning at him.

Lancelot could see the two past the firewall, as he pulled one of his swords from a Saxon. He looked back to Arthur, but found him busy fighting. He looked back to Guinevere and watched as Cynric hit her face, blood spitting from her mouth.

He turned, running through the Saxons, killing any who came in his way. Finding his horse, he quickly mounted and took off at a run, slashing those he passed.

Guinevere's mouth was beginning to fill with blood. She lay on the grass, Cynric over her, ready to strike. Suddenly, Lancelot's blade stopped Cynric's from dealing the blow.


Cerdic rushed at Tristan and their swords clashed once more. Tristan spun, trying to hit, but their swords hit high, and Cerdic pulled at a dagger, cutting Tristan's arm.

Tristan grabbed his arm, dropping his sword, backing up. He looked to his sword, laying before Cerdic's feet. The Saxon stared at him for a moment and kicked the sword over to him.

Lancelot was fighting Cynric, Guinevere had since gotten back to her feet, fighting near them. Cynric rushed forward, knocking Lancelot to the ground. The Saxon tried to hit him with his sword, but was kicked to the ground by the knight.

Lancelot got up quickly, turning to face another Saxon. As Cynric got up, he noticed a fallen Saxon's crossbow. He looked up, checking to see if the knight was watching, and ran over to get it.

Lancelot turned away from the dying Saxon, and heard a thud. He felt a pain in his shoulder and found an arrow deep in his armor. He looked up and saw Cynric, smirking, holding a crossbow. In almost a daze, Lancelot threw one of his swords, hitting Cynric in the chest.

Guinevere, seeing the two, fought her way through the Saxons, trying to reach Lancelot. He fell to the ground, landing in a sitting position, and watched as Cynric fell, dead. He sat watching the fight, and didn't notice as a Saxon started to bring his sword down towards him.

Guinevere swung her sword, fiercely, decapitating the man.


Tristan slowly bent down, picking up his sword with one hand. He swung at Cerdic, trying to hit him, but missed. Cerdic took the advantage and stabbed his dagger into Tristan's side.

The knight grimaced, falling to the ground. Cerdic stabbed his sword into the ground and reached for Tristan's curved blade. A sword cutting his hand stopped him.

He looked up; Isolde stood, sword ready, glaring at him.

"A woman?" he questioned, slightly smiling.

"No," she replied. "A warrior."

Backing up, he took his sword out of the ground and moved forward quickly. Isolde dodged quickly, but not quickly enough. His blade cut her arm.

The stood staring, each waiting for the other to move; Isolde yelled, lunging forward. Cerdic spun and sliced her side, deeply.

Crying out, she grabbed her side. Tristan was on the ground before her, breathing heavily. Before she could turn around, she felt a white-hot pain rip down her back. She fell to her knees, looking back.

Cerdic had begun to fight Arthur. She looked back to Tristan and saw a Saxon running towards him, axe raised high.

Gritting her teeth, she got up, running at the man, quickly killing him. He fell, dead, next to Tristan and she looked around, making sure no one else was coming.

"What…are you…doing?"

She looked down at Tristan, amazed he was speaking; she growled, "I'm saving your ass!"


A/N: Okay, that it for now. I'll update later when I've written the chapter and gotten some reviews.