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Sarmatian White Knight

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Summary: When Xander Harris takes Angel's place in hell, he starts a journey that will lead him to become a knight only remembered in legend. XH/FL.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Movies > King Arthur (2004)BarefootXOFR1811,8452205,80112 May 0912 May 09No
I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or King Arthur. They belong to Joss Whedon and Antoine Fuqua respectively.

For those unfamiliar with the movie I do my best to summarise without beating it to death... ;)



Prologue: Tempering the White Knight

Crawford Street Mansion
May 21st 1998

Xander Harris watched in horrified fascination as Buffy and Angelus clashed. He could see Angelus beginning to open and despite his lie to Buffy, she still wasn’t quite managing to get the upper hand. He understood, deep down, why this was so hard for him. Angel had been someone she loved fiercely, but he would have liked to think that if the entire world had been riding on it, he would have been able to slay a vampiric mockery of a former lover. Still, he considered that it wasn’t his place to judge. He had never truly been in her place. His best friend Jesse had been largely an accident, and it could be argued that he and Jesse weren’t as close. It was a close call though. A lover you’ve known for two years or a best friend you’ve known since the cradle. Very tricky to decide what is closer.

It was as Xander pondered which was more difficult that disaster struck. Willow had succeed and it was blatantly obvious that Angel’s soul had been restored. Many would have claimed this was excellent news, but to Xander’s mind it was the worst news possible. If Willow had restored Angel’s soul before the portal had opened, they would have been fine and Xander grudgingly happy. If Willow had failed and Angelus tossed through the portal, Xander would have been even happier. But Angel’s soul being restored after the portal had opened left Buffy in the position of having to sacrifice her lover, not just the terrible parody of her lover. This was very bad.

Xander considered the situation for a long moment, watching as Buffy told Angel to close his eyes and she prepared to thrust the blade into him. He couldn’t do it. The process would break her. “Buff!”

Buffy flinched expressively, lowering her sword and spinning at him. “You lied to me.”

Xander sighed. “I know. And I’m here to make it right Buffy.”

Her glare was fearsome. “How can you possibly make it right Xander?”

She had no idea, that was obvious. “Quite easily.”

Buffy was so shocked by his pronouncement that she failed to hold onto the sword as Xander took it from her and only managed a slight squeak of protest as he ran Angel through. But then Xander diverged from her carefully conceived decision and pulled the blade back out, leaving Angel screaming on the ground. The vamp was cursing Xander quite creatively in two languages, but Xander ignored him. Buffy, who had run to Angel’s side after Xander pulled the sword free, looked up just in time to see Xander walking into the portal with the sword.

Buffy felt something shatter inside as she realised what he had done. He was gone...


Hell Dimension
Indeterminate Period

Xander’s time in hell was an interesting experience. Had he been in his mind he would have perceived spending twelve long years of torture in whatever dimension he was sent to. Of course, he had no real clue, having long since gone mad from the torture. In the outside world just over 129 years had gone by for every year he was imprisoned.

This, however, was a particularly unique hell dimension, in that the flow of time is reversed as compared to Xander’s home dimension. And so while Xander entered the dimension in the spring of 1998 at the age of 17, Xander left the dimension behind in the spring of 447 at the age of five.

It is perhaps fortunate that the reverse aging process of the hell dimension, restored his body to how it had been before most of his wounds, but unfortunately it could do nothing for his memories.

It was, as previously stated the spring of 447 when Xander’s patron god, Equuleus, spirit of the horse, managed to win him free from the dimension and used a great deal of power to afflict the boy with a massive and comprehensive amnesia. The god, in its wisdom, had decided that Xander’s sanity could never regain his sanity if he retained the memory of twelve years of brutal torture in hell.

April 13th 447

Gerwyn was retrieving water for her home when she first heard the soft sobs of the child. It took her only took her moments to find the boy. A child of no more then five summers, he was clothed in rags and babbling mostly incomprehensibly. She stood there for a long moment, wondering what she was going to do. The Romans were scheduled to come next year to take Torran off to serve. They had not been to her village since they had returned Garrett to his home a decade before this.

The Romans had no use for foundlings like this one, but she could easily pass the child off as her own since her village would back her. She would claim that Harrel, recently killed in a farming accident, had been the father. The Romans were fools, they would believe just as long as she could educate the child to a level someone his age should be at. “Dagonet… that shall be your name, my little foundling. Dagonet, son of Harrel. You will grow strong Dagonet, and one day you will be a great Sarmatian Knight…”

Intervening Years
April 14th 447 - December 21st 467

Gerwyn’s prophecy came true and she was able to pass Dagonet off to the Roman soldiers as her son by the deceased farmer Harrel. Dagonet would grow into a strong and able youth over the next five years, gaining great acclaim for his skill with the battle axe and sword, though he was known to be quite proficient with dagger and bow as well.

On Dagonet’s tenth birthday the Romans came for him. He was told that he would be serving fifteen years in the distant Roman outpost of Briton, and that it would take several months just to get there. Dagonet took the declaration with a certain amount of stoic silence that would have shocked Xander into asking if he was related to Oz. Xander, of course, had long been buried by Equuleus and was therefore not there to provide commentary on the situation. After many months travel, Dagonet found himself under the command of a young Roman Commander… Artorius Castus. Known to his close friends as Arthur…

Over his fifteen years of service to Rome, Dagonet became fanatically loyal to Arthur, second perhaps only to Tristan. Anything Arthur asked of him was deemed reasonable immediately and without question. While his skill at ten had been a sight to behold, his abilities with sword and axe at twenty-five were truly inspiring. In any other company he would likely have stood out as the best, but as one of Arthur’s knights he was but one of many skilled warriors and masters of war, Arthur being perhaps the greatest of all.

It was at the end of their service to Rome though, that Dagonet and the others found themselves being forced into one last mission before they could be discharges. Despite the suicidal nature of the mission, Dagonet was the second to agree to do it, following quickly after Tristan. The mission led them past Hadrian’s Wall and deep into Woad territory to save the life of Marius Honorius and his family. The son, Alecto, was particularly wanted by Rome. Upon their arrival at the home of Marius, Dagonet assisted Arthur in entering a tomb for pagans who had refused to work. It was there that Dagonet rescued Lucan, a mere child of seven. Dagonet would go on to take on the position of Lucan’s dead parents, defending the lad against all comers…

Briton, North of Hadrian’s Wall
December 22nd 467

Dagonet raised a hand in farewell to the boy, Lucan, as he was loaded into a cart with the widow of the late and unlamented Marcus Honorius. As soon as the lad was out of sight, he moved to join Arthur and the others on the ice. The Saxons had been pursuing them for days and each of the knights was sick and tired of looking over their collective shoulders. It would be here and now.

Arthur’s battle plan was cunning, using the strong East wing to their advantage, the group were able to fire arrows further then the Saxons, and used this advantage to harass the Saxon flanks. This technique caused the Saxons to close ranks, putting greater pressure on the ice. It was a work of genius, truly, but it was also not enough. The Saxons were going to make it. Arthur obviously realised that to because he ordered the knights to prepare for combat.

Dagonet shook his head. This was suicide. If they engaged the remaining Saxons on their feet, with only seven men and a woman to fight, none of them with horses… it was just a very bad idea. It was then that an idea occurred to Dagonet. The idea was desperate, but compared to a melee of eight versus a hundred, Dagonet’s plan was sheer sanity. And so Dagonet dropped his sword, grabbing his axe and charging forward with a roar. He knew even before Arthur gave the order that his fellows would cover him. At about halfway between Sarmatians and Saxons, Dagonet began to hack fiercely into the ice. It was already stressed from the weight of the Saxons so it wouldn’t take much. After his forth strike he was hit with an armour-piercing crossbow bolt. Another one soon followed. Dagonet knew he wasn’t going to make it but he still managed one last strike, which broke the ice completely, sending him headlong into the freezing water. His senses quickly left him and he knew no more…

Crawford Street Mansion
October 14th 1998

Faith was patrolling just outside when she heard the voice of a child screaming for help. Flashing back to terrible images of her own childhood, she rushed inside to find a boy of perhaps seven, clutching fiercely to the hand of a man of perhaps twenty-five. It was difficult to tell with the lack of hair.

The man himself had little hair beyond stubble that she cold see whether looking at his chin or his head and was brutally scarred in a way that made her shudder. The one down the left side of his face was particularly livid. Of much more immediate concern to her though were the two arrows protruding from the man’s chest and the fact that he appeared to be soaked through in freezing water.

Faith sighed as she moved rapidly to try to save him, hoping that what little her watcher had taught her would do the job. She was beginning to think that Kakistos had been a day in the park compared to this.


There we go... And now for something completely different... :p


The End?

You have reached the end of "Sarmatian White Knight" – so far. This story is incomplete and the last chapter was posted on 12 May 09.

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