Title: Sarmatian Ladies
Author: Jmaria
Rating: PG-13 - R
Disclaimers/Spoilers: Joss owns the Buffy crew, Bruckheimer, Franzoni, & Fuqua own this incarnation of Arthur & his knights. A bit of Kassandra's backstory is borrowed from Marion Zimmer Bradley's The Firebrand. It goes without saying that I do not own her stuff either.
Summary:
A/N: This ended up being a bit of a Morgana chapter, mainly because I'm trying to stretch out the inevitable. I have so many other things I should be doing, but I'm sick and can't sleep.
A/N2: Not really sure what happened the first time I uploaded it, but let's try that again.

14. Perfect Circle

He would go far, far into the desert. He could live there. He could live anywhere. He would live, even though he wanted to die.
- The Forever King, Molly Cochran & Warren Murphy

Hollis Home, 2005

Felicia struggled with the front door, an exhausted Lucas in her arms. Joel was standing in the hall, starring at the telephone in his hand.

"Joel, sweetheart, is everything all right?"
"Did you know there's nine of them in that house?" Joel blinked, setting the phone down. He quietly scooped Lucas out of her arms.
"Nine of whom?"
"The new neighbors."
"Nine? Dawn might have mentioned it," Felicia sighed, pushing back a strand of black hair. "Alec still up?"
"Watching the match," Joel nodded towards the living room.
"Give Lucas to him, tell him to finish that book report and get to bed. We need to talk."
"And while I'm ordering your little brother around and playing bad cop, what'll you be doing my dear?"Joel grinned.
"Getting Lizzie back in bed," Felicia snapped her fingers at the little blonde head popping around the corner. "After that, we've got to talk. Don't think I didn't see you, Lizzie!"
"Sounds like a load of fun," Joel made his way towards the living room as Felicia dashed around the other corner after Lizzie. "Alec, the fun's over."

Delphi, 463

Morgana stared in utter awe at the mystical figure before her. Everyone had heard of the massacre of the Trojans in the the Ten Years War, just as many had heard of the plight of Ismene's family. And here she sat, dumbfounded in their presence. No one had known of Kassandra's fate, and few had cared about Ismene's.

"The Seer, cursed by Apollo," Morgana breathed. "To see the future, though none will believe it. The war - "
"Has been done and over with for many, many years," Kassandra nodded, guiding her to the steps beside Ismene's grieving form. "The victors and the victims have long since moved on from this world. Some to be reborn, some to eternal rest. Ismene and I, we have been given neither of these choices. We have been given life, altered. Our gifts honed and at the ready for other such chosen."
"You speak of - of the true warrior? The one who will conquer evil?" Morgana breathed. Her eyes widened, her fingers clasping the small bulge of her stomach. "Is -"
"No, Morgana. Your child is not the one I speak of. You are seeking out lost brothers of your broken tribe, you and your sisters?" Kassandra urged, kneeling beside her.
"Yes. They wait for me now, for I am the only one who knows the way," Morgana nodded dumbly. The power flowed through Kassandra's hand, and she saw the face of a man she had never met, but somehow knew.
"There is a man to the North, at the wall that you and your kindred seek. He is called Artorius, Arthur. It is vital that you reach this wall. The path that has been given to you is false, a decoy to lead her back to Mordred. She must not reach Mordred, or all is lost."
"What is so vital that you have picked me? Isolde or Viviane could have easily taken my place once you saw that I'd been taken captive by him. Do you not fear that I too have been corrupted by his taint?" Morgana stiffened her spine, eyes narrowed as she watched the Oracle.

Kassandra rose to her feet, hands behind her back. This was not the stance of a prophetess or handmaiden. This was the stance of a fellow warrior. It had often been said that Kassandra had been kindred of the Sarmatian warriors, that her mother had been of the blood. In truth, Morgana saw much of her fellow warriors in the Oracle.

"Your blood cannot be tainted by him, even if you bear his child," Kassandra tucked a strand of hair back from Morgana's face. "My child, the things you have seen, will see, and those you cannot yet fathom are before you now. My servant will lead your company to the east, and hide them until the time is right. I fear you cannot go to the north just yet."

Rome, 2005

Buffy tossed and turned in her sleep. She hadn't been sleeping well. She hadn't slept well since the day they'd found out Dawn was pregnant. The phone call about Dawn earlier must have triggered some dormant maternal instinct in her, because all Buffy could think about was getting to that stupid wall to watch out for her baby sister.

Buffy fluffed up her pillow as she rolled to her side. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't get that guy's face out of her mind. His smile had been yummy to say the least, and the way his eyes had sparkled - what was she doing? That guy had been gone for a week. She hadn't even spoken to him for that long. And she had a boyfriend, who, while being eerily possessive lately, was still an incredibly wonderful guy. So why was she thinking about Lanyon when she had the Immortal? She was just freaking out about Dawn. Yeah, that was it.

Outskirts of London

Morgana tugged her hood over her eyes. She couldn't be seen, not if she wanted to avoid the notice of Europa. She wasn't as convinced that the liason would do the right thing for the first time in her long life. Europa was hidden in shadow in the alley across from her. Mordred's hired thugs, and Morgana felt her stomach sink as she watched history repeat itself. It had been Europa that had made the first advances towards the Saxons all those years ago, plotting first to send them to avenge her slain children. Europa had never been able to resist Mordred's charm, and was soon doing his bidding again.

"You're late," Europa hissed at the two blonde men.

"Gianni was informing us of change in plans, and you know how he likes to talk," Cedric smirked.

"That imbecile hasn't stopped blathering on for the last fifteen hundred years, he's not going to stop any time soon," Europa sighed. "What was it that he told you?"

"Doesn't He tell you?" Cyril muttered, exchanging a look with his brother.

"I haven't met with him in several weeks. Keeping up this facade as liason gives me little room to move about freely. The Higher Planes keep close track of us."

"He's ordered the death of the knights, and of the woman," Cedric replied.

"And the Key?"

"Only on a need-be condition. Wouldn't want to upset the slayer."

"The child - any of the children, actually - are not to be harmed."

"Children?" Cedric murmured, catching his brother's eyes again. "Who said anything about children?"

"As it stands, the Powers believe that the Key's offspring will have great strength. They thought this of the Key as well, and she has proven to be limited. Her child is the wrong child. She did not fulfill the prophecy. The child will be as powerless as it's mother."

Morgana frowned, risking being seen again as she peered forward into the night. What was Europa up to?

"Fine. Wouldn't doubt your judgement, Europa," Cedric nodded.

"Morgan, what are you doing out here?" Morgana felt herself being yanked back. Morgana gasped. It was the first time in nearly a hundred years that someone had caught her off-guard.

"Percy! You can't be here!" She hissed, pulling him back in the shadows. If Europa even heard a whisper of her name it could jepordize everything.

"This is where you'd rather be? Out on the streets doing - whatever you're doing than being with your son?" Percy's hands shook as he yanked out of her grasp.

"You don't understand. Please, Percy you have to be quiet.. If those men see you - they are very dangerous," Morgana tried desperately to use as little of her power as possible to hide them. If she used too much, Europa might detect her.

"So you can do your father's business'? What about our son, Morgan?"

"Believe me, Percy, I'm doing this so our son can have a better life. Now you really need to shut up!" Morgana felt a surge of power knock him back on his ass. He stared at her in shock, as if he was seeing her for the first time. And truthfully, he was.

Delphi, 463

Kassandra stood alone, her eyes focusing on the far north. Mordred had not yet sent his servants to deal with the troublesome Britons and what was left of the Sarmatians. She could not risk the future her visions had shown her. It all rested on a sword's edge, the pieces were already in motion. She remembered the vision that had spelled her brother's doom. Would Hektor and Andomache find peace together in this lifetime? Would Helen and Paris? Would Achilles find his peace? Would she?

Morgana looked so much like her father, so very much like him. Had it really been that long ago that she had seen the young wizard? Merlin had grown strong in the North, fighting off legions of Romans. She had not prospered. She'd become stagnant and useless, merely sending warriors to do work she herself was not strong enough to do. How many had suffered, would suffer at her inability to act? Morgana was proof of that, as would be the last of the Samartian warrior women. Mordred's stench was upon her. Morgana had yet to meet her father.

"You summoned me, priestess?" The dark haired man bowed deeply, pulling Kassandra from her thoughts.

"Yes. The Lady Raven requires safe passage to meet her companions. Wray, you are the only one who knows the way to the hidden encampment." The former half-demon - now full demon - nodded. Kassandra smiled softly. "You must not interfere with her choice, Wray. She must make them for herself. Your gift will always be minding the balance. It is a useful and frustrating gift."

Kassandra tipped her head to one side, as if she were hearing something her could not. She smiled softly at whatever she had heard. He would not find it amusing, but she certainly did. Suddenly her smile was gone, and her eyes turned a frightening black. Wray stumbled back a bit, unsure as to what he could do.

"The fatted calf was too low a bargaining price, and the fates demand a bloodier feast. The line disrupted by blood, refitted and remade. It is not yet their chance, and must be made to fail again."

Kassandra shook with the effort to keep herself erect. The dark haired balance demon cautiously made his way forward.

"Milady Oracle? What does it mean?"

"Take them through Sarmatia. The child must be born on those ruined lands." Kassandra felt older than she had in centuries. "Assure them that this is what is needed. Mordred will still seek them. You leave tonight."

"Aye, Milady."

Kassandra looked away from him, away from the sight of the grieving Ismene, away from the broken Morgana, and to the West. Someone was meddling with time, and she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that it was she.

The Summers Cottage, 2005

After two hours of explaining why Faith and Vi had suddenly appeared on their doorstep, re-explaining the past life situations, and trying to keep her dinner down, Dawn was exhausted. She'd excused herself and had fallen asleep within fifteen minutes. The rest of the group - well, that was an entirely different situation. Boris had opted to drive Jenna home, but Arthur and Gwen were out on the porch, Gavin, Willow and Faith moved the slayer things and Willow's stuff into their rooms. Trevor had made dinner for everyone, and had already gone up to bed. Garrett and Vi got stuck with clean-up duty.

"I understand why Faith is here, but why are you?" Garrett asked as he held the garbage bag open for her. "I thought you were taking over Dawn's apartment and her mini-slayers."

"Me too. But, as luck would have it, I'm no Mrs. Garrett," Vi sighed. The realization of what she'd said hit her a beat later.

"You're no what?" He cried, a smile playing on his lips.

"You know that Eighties tv show, 'The Facts of Life'? Mrs. Edna Garrett was the red-headed house mother at this snobby all-girls school, and she was always giving the girls good advice?" Vi flushed when he only shook his head. "Yeah, well it turns out, that all I have in common with her is the red hair. The slayers walked right over me."

"That still doesn't explain -"

"Strike two," Vi sighed.

"What?"

"I had authority issues in Cleveland, I couldn't cut it as a house mother, and when Giles said he was going to send Faith here at Dawn's request, I figured I couldn't screw it up too much."

Vi turned away from him then, because she knew she wouldn't stop blushing. Guys had been a non-issue since she'd gone to Sunnydale three years ago, and most guys still were a non-issue to her. But there was something about Garrett that got under her skin. He was cute, he was smart, but he was a player and dangerous. But he was so very cute, and she couldn't treat him like Andrew or Carlos, or even Xander. He was - a boy.

"Well, seeing as you're here to whip us into fighting form, then I guess it won't be too hard."

"Excuse me?"

Meanwhile, out on the porch, Arthur and Gwen were lost in their own little world. It was odd, meeting the person you had been destined to marry and rule a nation with. It was rougher knowing that something had come between you once, but that you only had a general idea as to whom had betrayed whom.

"You mentioned Mordred earlier," Gwen started to say, but the words hung there, unanswered.

"You said Morgana."

The two names that had always spelled doom for them in the legends were barely blips in their memories. Gwen wasn't sure where to go from there.

"I don't think she was your sister," she said hesitantly. "Nor do we believe he was your - bastard by her. The legends -"

"But he could be my basta - that Arthur's illegitimate son?" Arthur shook his head. "I can see his face, see him and her standing over me, but they're both a blur."

"I don't see him, in my memories. I don't think I even really see her. I see a necklace, I see a young boy - and then blood," Gwen shivered. "There are little girls there, and I think -"

"They were ours? Two of them, the girls I mean. The boy -" Arthur glared out into the darkness.

"He's hers," Gwen's voice trembled. "The girls had dark hair, and he had blonde hair. She must have given you the son I couldn't."