Author: Triane
Disclaimer: Not. Mine. Except Iona. Everything else belongs to someone else. Even more so now, that we're into movie territory - I've done what I could to gloss over using the actual dialogue, but if you recognize dialogue or action, its because it's. Not. Mine.
Summary: Trouble starts
In the chilly pre-dawn quiet, Iona slept peacefully with her little family. She had stayed awake until Dagonet's return, and together they had laid down on either side of Lucan. The couple had spoke together softly, both sets of eyes fixed on the tired little face with its mop of curls. Lucan slept deeply, safe and surrounded and content. Eventually Dagonet and Iona joined him, slipping quietly into slumber for the last few hours of the night, Dagonet's arm over both his wife and the boy.
Dawn was just beginning to break as rough hands grabbed rudely, harsh and grasping as they hauled Iona up and away. Instantly fighting, she punched and kicked until a blow to the side of her head made stars dance in front of her eyes, and dazed her long enough for her assailants to drop her to her knees, a man on each side of her with a death grip on her arm. One had a fistful of her hair, forcing her head back painfully so that she had no choice but to watch what was going on.
What she saw made her blood boil. Dagonet, equally beset and fending off his attackers with the knife from his boot, and Marius, grinning triumphantly, with a blade to Lucan's throat.
Iona shouted in anger, earning herself another punch to the head and an answering roar from Dagonet. Marius' voice was gloating as he looked from Dagonet to Iona, ordering his guards to finish them off. Fulicina rushed to him, trying to pry his arm away from Lucan, but he pushed her aside as if swatting a pesky fly.
Then, quiet. For a surprised second Marius looked down in shock at the arrow that had grown out of his chest, and then everything was chaos. The grip on Iona's hair loosened just enough for her to break free, so she laid out one attacker with a wicked right hook, and broke the nose of the second with a well-placed boot. Lucan ran to Dagonet as Marius fell, so Dagonet pushed him towards Iona, drawing his sword and standing between them and the remaining guards. Iona, in turn, pressed Lucan down onto their makeshift bed, standing over him with a feral gleam in her eye and her own sword in her hands.
It was a dangerous stalemate for a split second until suddenly knights were everywhere. Bors rode up yelling, while Lancelot and their commander strode to either side of Guinevere, a second arrow notched on her bow. The Roman guards' surrender was a foregone conclusion, and they threw down their swords sullenly, the threat gone with their master.
Iona's breath left her in a rush and she sheathed her sword quickly, kneeling beside Lucan and checking him for injuries. He grimaced in annoyance and pushed her hands away only to do the same to her, a small determined hand at her chin to turn her head so he could look at where she had been struck. She smiled, and Dagonet chuckled low in his throat as he joined them.
"I am uninjured as well, if anyone is interested." He laughed again as Lucan gave him a cursory once-over before going back to clucking over Iona, who laughed out loud at his dismissive manner. Lucan smiled, ducking his head at his own daring before looking shyly up at Dagonet, who smiled at him fondly, roughing his curls with a gentle hand. His loving eyes met those of his wife, and for one, brief, fierce moment, everything was perfect.