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 Bradleys The Firebrand. It goes without saying that I do not own her stuff either.
Summary: Coming home again.
A/N: For the Quote - its the continuation of 17a's quote. I was too lazy to run downstairs and be mauled by my cranky-pants sister to find a new quote. Sue me. (You'll get nothing. I own nothing of value.)

A/N2: Okay so it's been two years since I updated this. And I feel bad about that, honestly. But life decided to be an uber-bitch to me and mine in those years. First there were issues with my youngest niece. That happened in late '07 early '08. Then my mom had a heart attack in the summer of '08, and between work and taking care of her there was just no time to write. So. The story got pushed back and rl had to take precedence.

17b. This Is How It Is For You

!
But she would have to sacrifice her means of reaching Laurel. She could not do it. Not even to gain a few days.
- Under Camelot's Banner, Sarah Zettel
!

!
Harrington Hospice, 2005
!

The door to Dagonet's room burst open hurriedly as a petite brunette woman strode past Faith's rushed maneuvering to protect Dawn and Dag. The shorter woman gave the slayer a very bored look before she went to the bedside. Her glance landed not on the prone figure on the bed but slightly to the left of Dawn herself. She smiled softly.

"We'll have him back to rights soon enough, little key," the woman whispered.

"What?"

"Lanyon, use your mobile to contact Willow, Gavin and Trevor. They must make all haste to Summers' cottage, and tell the girl sitting on the porch that the package in question is not all it appears to be and that she shouldn't think of putting on the tacky thing. The color will so clash with the outfit -"

"Who the hell are you?" Faith murmured, her eyes locking on the woman.

"Little wolf, now is not the time to be asking silly questions when you well know the answers. Faith, you are to guide Lanyon safely back to the Cottage and set up the room off the kitchen for Dagonet. The transport will arrive safely within the hour, and we need the room to be cleared of all unnecessary clutter."

"How do you know about the back room? I was just thinking that would be a good room for him," Dawn murmured, her mind still stuck between panic and bewilderment at the woman who had swooped down on them like - like a -

"I believe the word you're looking for is 'raven'," the woman smiled, but continued glaring at Faith and Lanyon. "Faster would be better."

"Miss Raven has Dagonet's identification, Dawn," Arthur broke in, standing at the doorway. Dawn frowned at him before looking back at the - well, Miss Raven. "He's been released into your care."

Dawn glanced back at the man, the look in his eyes clearly saying what he couldn't say in mixed company. She freaks me right the fuck out, too, but now's really not the time to look gift horses in the mouth. Dawn shivered at the thought, the history buff in her making her think of that one horse that should have been looked in the mouth, and the belly, and the butt too.

"She does so against his doctor's wishes. Son, now is definitely not the time for this man-"

"To escape being euthanized?" Miss Raven snapped angrily. Her hands clenched as if she meant to wield some weapon against him. "I don't believe we have any need of your skills, Doctor Kingston. Pray, leave the real work to your very capable assistants. We've a very tight schedule to keep."

Dawn looked between the woman and Arthur's father, not sure who or what to believe. One of them wanted to kill Dag, and the other wanted to save him. The problem was that she wasn't sure at all who to believe. Dawn knew that everyone else was waiting on her for the right answers and she just wasn't sure which one was the right choice. She closed her eyes and prayed for the answer to come to her.

She didn't have to wait long. Miss Raven looked past her shoulder, staring at the empty space behind her and the prone figure of Dag. She nodded encouragingly, which made Dawn frown.

Suddenly, her fingers were clenched tightly in Dagonet's. His breathing hadn't changed and his eyes were still closed, but his fingers dug into hers, and she felt the tears slipping over her cheeks unchecked.

"Doctor Kingston, I thank you for all you've done for Dagonet, but I'm taking my fiancé home today. Miss Raven, I knew I could count on you to make all the necessary arrangements."

"Of course, Miss Summers," Miss Raven murmured quietly.

!
The Summers Cottage
!

Buffy stared at the necklace for a long time, considering. It was pretty and all, but she didn't really have anything that would go with it. It was too long for most of her shirts and she wasn't planning on going out to gala functions or clubs any time soon. She'd come north to help take care of her sister during her first pregnancy, to right the wrong she felt she'd done to her by walking out on Dawn when she needed family the most. Willow, Vi, Gwen and even Faith were good in a pinch, but she and Dawn shared blood.

Bruised egos and hurt feelings shouldn't matter anymore. She'd just snapped the box closed again when a car squealed up the drive. Buffy frowned.

"Buffy? What are you - did someone just bring you a package?" Willow bubbled out, her finger pointing at the open manila envelope.

"Does your super-duper witchy-ways now include a tap into the psychic friends network, Wills?" Buffy joked, taking in the two guys flanking her best friend. "Where's Dawnie?"

"At the hospital."

"What? Is she okay? Did something happen with the baby?" Panic coursed through her. She knew she should have been by her sister's side sooner.

"She's fine - its one of the guys, food poisoning," Willow bubbled out, her eyes locking on the box.

"Ouch. A knight brought down by some bad fish? Kinda sucks." Now would be a really good time for a nasty vamp attack, just to ease her rush of adrenaline. Just like a vamp to be so not accommodating, even if the sun was still high in the sky. Buffy's fingers itched to punch something repeatedly.

"Yeah. Sensitive stomachs and all that. Um, you want to come in?" Willow fumbled with the keys for a minute, her eyes still locked on Buffy's mystery package.

"I was hoping on it."

"That necklace won't look good on you," the blond guy muttered.

"How did you know it was a necklace?" Buffy asked at the same time that Willow hissed Gavin's name. "I mean, most guys would look at this box and think ring - or really stretching it, earrings. You jump on necklace. Why?"

"We've got a lot of work to do, and we really don't have time to discuss the stupid necklace," Trevor snapped, pushing the door open behind them. "We need to secure the cottage and, Faith and the -"

"Secure the cottage? From what?"

Buffy's question wasn't answered as Willow ushered her into the Cottage, with Trevor in the lead and Gavin behind them watching their backs. It was a cozy place, and Buffy felt her heart clench a bit as she saw pictures of her friends and family on the walls. It felt more like a home than any place they'd lived in since Sunnydale had collapsed in on itself. Dawn had always been able to make any space feel like a real home, she got that gift from their mother.

Buffy glared at the two knights that had left the friends sitting alone in the front parlor. Something was definitely not good. Especially since they were now treating her arrival like it was a sign of one of the many apocalypses the original Scoobies had faced down.

"We're secure," Trevor muttered, coming back into the foyer.

"Once again, secure from what?" Buffy demanded.

"Would you believe us if we said that we didn't have an answer for that?" Gavin's eyes caught Willow's over Buffys shoulder, sending a not-too-covert message to her best friend.

"Yeah, I'm not buying that."

!
The Village South of Hadrian's Wall, 468
!

"Tell me, my lady, will you seek a pound of flesh in retribution? For I can tell you truthfully that I have not gone a moment without mourning their loss." The tall dark knight spoke the words that she had thought would only pay lip service to the mens' deaths, and was shocked to see the pain reflected in his eyes.

"Fitting for a pagan to draw a pound of flesh from such a

"Archer, Raven," Viviane muttered from behind her in the old tongue. "Female, of Briton stock, I believe."

"And an excellent aim, I am sure," Morgana smirked convincingly in the direction of the woman. Switching back from her mother-tongue, Morgana leveled her gaze on the man before her. "But drawing revenge on Roman cast-offs never did suit my style. Throw me a bishop, a man of high, Christian cloth and I will have no qualms of sending him to his God on High."

Morgana drew her hands out to her sides, palms facing out. Bending her knees and head in slight deference to the man before her, Morgana tried to scramble her thoughts together. Isolde and Elaine would not be thinking clearly once they learned of their knights. She and Viviane would be much at the mercy of these five individuals.

"What women are you that you seek retribution on behalf of the Sarmatians?" The youngest knight, the one who looked more western than the others demanded. He had the look of a man high in his cups, though the day had barely passed into midday.

"Brother, do you remember so little of your people? We are your sisters, bound by common bloodlines, of ancient tribes that go farther back than even Rome can recall!" Morgana stared at him, not really all that shocked that he did not place them as his people. He must have been taken at a young age to remember so little of their culture.

"You're Sarmatian?" the blond spoke, clearly from the Northern tribes.

"We are the Sarmatian Ladies, warriors in our own right. Slaves to Rome just as you are," Viviane spoke up, taking on their cause just as well as Morgana could. Isolde and Elaine were at their back, searching in vain for familiar faces.

"I'm not Rome's slave - not anymore!" the first knight spat, shaking his sword in Viviane's direction angrily. She cocked one slender brow at his vehemence but did not react to him in any other fashion.

"Neither are we, not any longer," Morgana said quietly. She turned her attention back to the leader, and the female who'd come down from the battlements to join her mate. "We came in search of the fabled Arthur, Knight Protector of Briton. We came in search of our brothers, kinsmen, and betrothed. We have come to the last safe outpost from Roman tyranny."

"Betrothed? Who among you was betrothed to one of my knights?" Arthur seemed shocked at that bit of news.

"My sister from the Eastern tribes had been betrothed, my sister from the North sought out a kinsmen, as have I and my sister from the Southern tribe."

"Mayhap if you and your sisters deigned to name yourselves one of us would be willing to claim you as kin," the Northerner snorted in their direction.

"If I knew that we spoke with the great Arthur, then mayhap we would," Morgana shot back. "Mayhap, if we could speak indoors and not where any agent of ill wills could hear us, we would speak our names proudly."

"I am Arthur. These are my dearest friends and brothers," His hands spread out to each man in turn. "Bors," his head nodded to the shorn knight, "Galahad," to the youngest knight, "Gawain." The Northerner. "And my wife, Guinevere."

"Only fair you give him the same courtesy he has given you," Guinevere was the only one to speak in the quiet that had fallen after the introductions. Morgana knew that Isolde and Elaine were only now just realizing Tristan and Lancelot would not be joining their brothers to meet them and defend their newly crowned leader. Viviane would not speak first, leaving that instead to Morgana.

It took her several moments to weigh her options. She needed these men, needed to warn them of the Lord Death's dangerous machinations. He would be gunning for this little kingdom, now that he had done all in his power to help crumble the Roman Empire and gain more devastating power for himself.

"I am Morgana Fane, Lady Raven. Queen of the Gladiatorial ring, leader of the Ladies of Sarmatia, and I have brought us to fight with the last of our brothers, and to mourn those beloved dead." Morgana felt her sisters rallying behind her in support, though she knew Isolde was mourning hard, while Elaine was still fighting it - she would not want to believe Lancelot was dead. Viviane had already accepted it - they themselves had seen too much death to not have been half-expecting this somber news. "Behind me are my sisters, comrades in arms. Elaine, Lady Lion; Viviane, Lady Vixen, and Isolde, Lady Wolf."

"Women warriors? Of Sarmatian stock? Are we supposed to believe that -" the one called Galahad cried disdainfully.

"Is your memory so short, Galahad? Can you not recall another female warrior?" Guinevere muttered quietly, pain in her eyes at the mention of the obviously fallen female.

"You think just men made up our nation's cavalry? You have forgotten more of our history than I had thought. We are descendants of greatness! Of brave warriors of both sexes," Viviane snapped, ignoring the woman's hushed remark. "Warriors who battled in Troy, in Sparta and Athens, and then waged war against the overly complacent Empire."

"Viviane. Now is not the time to regale us with history lessons," Morgana sighed. Viviane nodded sharply, her eyes still glaring at the young knight. "We first must mourn our Brothers. Dagonet, Tristan, Lancelot -" Morgana felt Elaine's pained gasp at the mention of her beloved, and the clenching of her hand on Morgana's back. "And all of the others buried on that hill. We wish to do their lives proper homage."

Christian man," Morgana let her hand drift meaningfully to her sword. The younger knights, those with full heads of hair tensed behind him, and Morgana caught movement on the battlements.

!
The Summers' Cottage
!

Faith clenched at the 'oh-shit-bar' on the passenger side of the car. She was glaring at Lanyon as they finally pulled into the drive. The knight-turned-reporter remained oblivious to her glare.

"What's wrong?"

"A chick named Morgana tells you to beat feet to the cottage and you drive like its a damned Sunday drive with Miss Daisy. That's what's wrong with you," Faith snorted, popping the door open.

She could hear shouting from inside the house, and took off running. She'd made little D a promise and she didn't take them lightly. Not anymore. Faith stopped with a skid just inside the door to hear Buffy and Trevor bickering like teenagers. A smirk twisted up at the sight. B was up in Trevor's face, demanding to be told what was going on.

"Damn, B, I thought something bad was happening. I know Trevor is annoying as hell, but -"

"Thank god you're here!" Buffy whirled around to face the younger slayer. Faith let her eyes drop in a slow blink.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Faith demanded, catching the gaze of the two knights and the witch.

"Nothing! These idiot's wont tell me what's going on, and you've always been the bearer of bad news so go on. Bear it already," the blonde snapped, crossing her arms and glaring at her.

"Okay, first of all, fuck you. And secondly, I have no clue what you're talking about."

"Where is Dawn?" Willow asked gently.

"She, Artie, and Boris will be here in a bit. We've got to get the room over here cleaned up before they -" Lanyon started to say, joining the conversation as he entered the kitchen.

"You!" Buffy's eyes widened in shock as Lanyon caught sight of her.

"The crazy driver in Rome. How did - what are you doing here? Is - is your boyfriend with you?"

"Um, no. He doesn't know I'm here," Buffy blushed a bit at that admission.

"Wait - you two know each other?" Willow frowned looking between the two of them.

"We met, in Rome."

After the moment of silence, Faith remembered what the woman at the hospice had said. She didn't want to tell B that her kid sister's baby-daddy was alive if not kicking. Buffy and Lanyon just looked at each other with a weird look on their faces.

"All right then, um Lanyon, you hash things out with B. We've got stuff to do."

Faith quickly outlined what had happened and explained what needed to get done. Buffy hadn't realized the foursome had left without answering her questions and leaving her with the man who had bumped into her in Rome.

!
The Road to the Summers' Cottage
!

Dawn found herself cramped in the back of the ambulance with Boris, Arthur and Miss Raven less than thirty minutes later. There was something familiar about her to the men, but neither could place it. Holding tightly onto Dagonet's hand, Dawn caught the gaze of the woman.

"Who are you?" popped out of her mouth the second the paramedic closed the doors behind him and made his way to the front of the vehicle.

"Morgana. I did cover this with the doctor," a sad smile kicked up at her lips before vanishing.

"The Morgana?"

"Has there ever been another such as me?"

"You know what they say about you?" Dawn bit at her lip. Hadn't she learned that the recorded truth was different from the real truth? "Forget I said that. How did -"

"I was there, not long after we brought you back to this time," Morgana sighed. "We were on the heels of your visit. There were four of us, and I was the leader."

"Those crazy Sarmatian broads," Boris hissed in remembrance.

"You took offence at our teasing of your bride, Bors. Arthur -" Morgana's breath caught as she glanced at the once and future king. "Arthur felt guilty. I fear we did not help much then."

"So you remember your past life? Is that why you sought us out?" Dawn asked.

"Oh, sweetie, I sought you out because I was the one to set everything into motion."

Europa looked between the angry visage of Ismene and the calm look of the dark haired woman beside her. The priest, the one whom her master had slain so long ago looked at her with a pitying glance. Europa sneered at them all, anger brewing heavy and thick in her veins.

"This where all the cool kids hang out, Doyle?"

Europa stiffened at the sound of that most dreaded voice. Her stupid little patsy of a partner. The other liaison. The Seer. And her predecessor, the half-blood demon. And the witch.

"Not the cool kids, but the players in our little game," Doyle laughed, giving the woman seated a quick bow. "My lady."

"Wow, Doyle, you got manners when you died."

"S-s-she's the high lady, t-the first of the seers," Tara stuttered, her eyes flicking over to the chained liaison.

"The most infamous, any way," a small smile curved on the woman's lips. Europa's stomach dropped as it hit her then. "Yes, I saw your fate, and each time no matter what he did you, you went back to him. Your children slain, your pride in tatters, and even with a full future ahead of you, you returned to Mordred, Uther's bastard son."

"Wait - what'd she say?"

Vi set the phone back in her pocket. Right now she was stuck in the kitchen with Garrett, Gwen and Jenna, while Joel and Felicia tried to get the younger kids up in bed. Everyone had gone on high alert back at the cottage, and Vi couldn't help but worry. It so could not be good.

"Everything all right?" Jenna asked quietly, obviously worrying about Boris.

"Dag's being moved to the house, but Willow was really weird about it."

"It's him then? Really him?" Garrett demanded, crowding in front of her as she leaned back against the counter.

"I just said that, didn't I?" Vi snapped, wincing even as she spoke. "Willow said Faith said some woman showed up at the Hospice and magically made them give up Dagonet. Faith and Lanyon hot-footed it back to the Cottage, but then Willow kind of trailed off."

"It's a good sign, though, right?" Gwen bit at her pinkie nail.

"I guess," Vi raked a hand through her hair before continuing. "Willow said to sit tight until we get summoned back."

Gwen and Jenna left them to go relay the message to Joel and Felicia, and the room got quiet again. Vi worried at her lip, trying not to look in Garrett's direction. Memories seeped through her mind at the most unexpected moments. Like the one of the stable, and the one in the room off of the hall with the Round Table. Her hands shook as she scooted past him.

"Dammit, Viviane, stopped fidgeting!" Garrett snapped, his hand landing heavily on her shoulder.

Vi didn't even stop to think. Using her smaller size and greater strength, she yanked him forward, propelling the knight onto his stomach upon the kitchen floor. She dropped heavily on his lower back, her bottom resting just above his hips and yanked his head back with a fistful of his silky, curly hair. Her hand groped for her thigh holster and the Sarmatian dagger that Idras had fashioned for her when she entered into the temple for her training at age seven. She would slit this knave's throat for daring to touch a priestess of the Goddess of the Hunt. But her hand hit well-worn denim and she faltered, her grip loosening. Gala - Garrett took advantage of her distraction and bucked his hips up, knocking her hard onto her back. Her breath rushed out with an oof, and suddenly he was straddling her hips, his hands yanking her arms high above her head and pining them to the ground.

Vi's eyes widened in shock, even as she braced her feet on the ground to jerk her hips up against him, hoping to dislodge him just as he had unseated her. Garrett's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he bore down on her, keeping her pinned. She whimpered, her body going lax trying to tell him that the momentary insanity had passed.

"We cannot keep dancing around this, Viviane," Garrett muttered, his face lowering inches from her own.

"The name is Vi. Not Viviane, and I will cut you if you keep calling me that. I'm not her."

"Funny how you know exactly what I'm talking about, all while claiming you don't remember."

"Stop it, Garrett. Please. I've got one destiny, and it is not to be tangled up in Arthur and his court! I'm not that vital." Vi shifted her face away from him, her eyes closing on the bad memories of what happened back then. Over and over again, she could only see them dying. Some in her arms, others at her own hand. And what had killed her.

"You're not vital? Then why are you in the thick of things?" Garrett growled - honest to goodness, growled at her before pushing himself away from her and slamming out the back door.

Vi shook at the loss of his presence and at the resurgance of memories. Not even bothering to lift herself from the ground, she pulled her body back against the cabinet and let tears race down her cheeks. An hour had passed , pitching the room into shadows before she realized Garrett hadn't come back yet. Fear pumped through her as she dragged herself off the floor. She couldn't fail Dawnie. Garrett was important to the cause.

Every light was on in the cottage as the sun started to sink below the horizon. Faith and Willow directed the paramedics to the room that was already set up with the equipment necessary to keep Dag alive. The techs that Morgana had arranged to arrive before them had showed the four of them how to maintain and work the machines. Once he was safely placed in the room, Dawn finally made her way into the large kitchen. Almost everyone was there, except Vi, Garrett and Jenna, who were still at Joel and Felicias house. Gwen had come back a few minutes ago, and had arrived to the full kitchen.

"Dawn! What's going on here?"

Dawn's head jerked up to see her sister sitting next to Lanyon. A little too closely. A frown tugged at her lips as she looked back and forth between the two of them. What was Buffy doing here?

"I came to take care of you," Buffy frowned at her. "I was wrong to get so mad at you over picking the PtB's side -"

"It's not about a side, Buffy," Dawn shook her head, not wanting to get in this fight. Again.

"I know. I just didn't get it." Her sister took a deep sigh before going on. "Lanyon told me that you found him. Your - knight."

"Not just him. Although, I did find her first, slayer," Morgana slipped into the kitchen, just behind her.

Buffy and Lanyon both stared at her like they were seeing a ghost. The others who hadn't seen her at the hospice stared at her. Dawn only sighed and sat down heavily in the chair. Whatever news Morgana had for them, she was sure she didn't have the strength left to stand up to listen to it.

"Hey, you're the cab driver that left Lanyon outside my place in Rome!"

"The crazy Italian girl who couldn't drive!" Lanyon's mouth tipped up in a grin.

"Sister?"