A/N: so, I was going to wait until orientation to start posting this, but I decided "what the heck" and yeah. Here you go :3 Hope you enjoy!

For the record, this decision was made amidst exhaustion...

Timeline: year of movie

Disclaimer: I will say it once: the concept of the film belongs to the filmmakers, as do the specific character portrayals of Arthur, Guinevere, Gawain, Galahad, Bors, and Vanora. However, Cymbeline, other characters, and the story itself are mine. I am making no money off of this, it is merely for my relaxation and your enjoyment. Thank you!

.*.*.*.*.*.

Bright, yellow sunshine streamed through the window, waking the young girl as it warmed her. Claudia sat up, yawned, and stretched, tossing the long chestnut curls that tumbled down her back.

"Morning," Aria, her roommate, yawned from across the room. Aria was a pretty, exotic girl with deeply tan skin, black eyes, and straight black hair. Unlike Claudia, however, Aria was a slave, bought by her master as a birthday present for his young daughter. Claudia was merely a girl taken in by the family many years previous, when they were still in Britain, and who had remained with them for lack of a better place to go.

Aria stood, still yawning, and moved to get dressed, and Claudia followed suit. The girls dressed quickly, Aria in a light orange toga and Claudia in a dull green dress that was more in the style of her own people of Britain. "I'm going to the market today," Aria informed her friend as she wound Claudia's unruly curls into a heavy bun at the nape of her neck. "Would you like to come along?"

Unlike Aria, Claudia did not have daily duties, being a "free" woman—technically speaking. No-one had ever attempted to force her to do work, or treated her like a servant, although it was made clear she was expected to help out around the house, and equally clear she was not to stray from it without permission. When Aria was finished with her hair, Claudia turned and nodded in reply, then wound her friend's hair into a similar bun.

Claudia followed Aria through the house as the girl did her morning chores to get Prisca, the patriarch's young daughter, ready for the day. Prisca didn't like Claudia, so the Briton stayed back from the Roman girl, risking pinches and pokes if she got to close. Finally, Aria was finished and the two girls headed for the marketplace.

The streets of Rome were packed, people pushing and shoving to get to where they needed to go. Claudia had been in Rome for a little over a year and had hated every minute of it. There was far too much noise and bustle and not nearly enough greenery for her tastes, having grown up on the wild island of Britain. However, she hated to remain cooped up in the family's villa all the time, so she accompanied Aria into the market every few days.

"Good morning, Gaius," Aria said politely as they reached her favorite stand in the marketplace. It was small and not busy, at least for the moment, and sold fresh fruit, brought in from Gaius's family farm each morning.

"Good morning, Aria," Gaius blushed. "Claudia," he added quickly, spotting the brunette behind the object of his affections. Claudia rolled her eyes and smiled teasingly. The reason this was Aria's favorite stall was because she liked the boy who ran it, not just because it always had the best fruit.

"What's the news today?" Aria asked, her eyes flickering between the boy and the fruit, making a pretense of examining the wares.

"Actually, it'll interest Claudia more than you, I think," Gaius admitted, turning to Claudia, who cocked her head to the side to show her interest. "There's news from Britain. Apparently, when Bishop Germanius left the island, the last commander at Hadrian's wall stayed behind to fight the incoming Saxons."

"Are you serious?" Aria gaped. "That's suicide!"

"They don't think he and his men made it," Gaius shook his head sadly.

"Well, if nothing else, it took balls," Aria observed; ignoring Gaius's blush at her language. "Who was the commander?"

"Artorius Castus," Gaius replied. "He was the commander of the Sarmation knights stationed at the wall."

Claudia heard nothing else the boy said, her ears suddenly replacing the clamor of the busy marketplace with the roaring of blood. She gripped the table of Gaius's stall to keep from falling. A hand on her arm startled her, and she looked up to find Gaius and Aria staring at her in concern.

"Claudia, are you alright?" Aria asked, clearly worried.

Claudia forced herself to nod and straighten up. She gestured back the way she and Aria had come, indicating a wish to return to the villa.

"You want to go back?" Aria asked gently. Claudia nodded, but Aria hesitated. "I still have shopping to do. Can you make it on your own?"

Claudia nodded again, giving her friend and the Roman boy a reassuring smile before slipping into the crowd and heading for the villa. As she walked, she listened to various conversations going on around her; the topic of the morning seemed to be the rumors about what had happened in Britain.

"…Bishop Germanius returned last night without the commander from the wall."

"One of his soldiers is friends with my brother's master's son, and he said that Artorius and his knights stayed back."

"I heard that there were nearly a thousand Saxons coming from the north."

"I heard that there were over two thousand."

"Why would they stay? They had no chance."

"…And Bishop Germanius brought back Alecto, the son of Marius Honorius, and the boy said that the knights planned to die at the wall."

"With those odds, they probably did."

By the time she reached the villa, Claudia had made up her mind. She was going to Britain, on her own, to return to her people and find out what had really happened at the wall.

.*.*.*.*.*.

Gawain grimaced as the Woad healer poked at the wound under his left armpit. He had been hit by a Saxon crossbow bolt in the Battle of Badon Hill almost two months previous, but he kept accidentally ripping the stitches holding the wound shut, and it had finally become infected and now refused to heal. His arm was currently propped on the Woad's shoulder as the man began to stitch the wound yet again; the infection had cleared enough to do so.

"Done," Bedivere, the large Woad man who reminded Gawain and his Sarmation brothers so much of their recently deceased companion Dagonet, informed his patient as he eased Gawain's arm from his shoulder. "If you rip them out again, I'm not stitching it anymore."

Gawain shrugged as he pulled his shirt back on and Bedivere stepped away. "Thank you," he mumbled as he slipped past the healer and out of the infirmary. He was met outside by a worried-looking Galahad, leaning against the wall next to the door of the infirmary.

"So?" Galahad prompted, falling into step beside his best friend as Gawain strapped his sword around his waist.

"I'll live," Gawain teased. This wound was certainly not the greatest of those he had sustained during the battle, but it had caused the most trouble as he repeatedly ripped the stitches out and then had gotten infected. In fact, Gawain found himself hobbling slightly, as a wicked gash in his left thigh (remarkably close to a scar from a similar wound sustained over a year before) and a chunk that had been taken out of the calf of the same leg kept him from evenly distributing his weight. He had ripped the stitches on both of these wounds nearly as many times as the one under his arm

Galahad sighed and rolled his shoulders. He was tired of the inaction in the fort in the wake of the battle. Arthur kept encouraging them to rest and heal, but he had a feeling that if he rested and healed much longer, he'd go crazy.

Gawain caught the sigh and glanced at his friend. "Bored?" he teased.

"Very," Galahad grumbled.

Gawain laughed and continued limping towards the barracks. He thought for a moment, then glanced over to Galahad. "I'm going to Rome. Would you like to come with me?"

"Rome?" Galahad repeated, incredulous. "Why the hell would you want to go there?"

"I have a promise to keep," Gawain shrugged. "Are you coming or not?"