Captured Hearts

Author: saxongirl.

Summary: Rewrite of one of my first stories. Born female. Masqueraded as a boy. Isabelle took the place of her deceased brother Safir, in order to protect her village from destruction. Along the way she meets friends, enemies and will even find love among the knights. Summary isn't that good, but having a rough time thinking of one.

Rating and Warnings: M-R for light violence, adult situations, along with some slight torture and rape, and later chapters.

Pairing: Lancelot/OC/Tristan.

Genre: Action/Adventure/Romance.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that is related to King Arthur and its respective owners. I only own character's that are not recognised from the movie eg. Isabelle/Safir and others. This story has a very rough and quick starting.

Feedback: Greatly welcomed.

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Chapter 1

The morning fog had turned the air cool and even as the soldiers moved, through the few lines of sleeping children and teenagers, they shivered. Using their feet, they kicked the children and teenagers awake, who all groaned and grumbled as they began to stir and wake up. Most of the soldiers were already packing up their own things, leaving the Sarmatian boys to pack their own before the soldiers up and left half of them behind. A young eight year old boy with long, wavy dark hair was still half asleep as he began to roll up his bedroll, only he stumbled and fell head first into another older boy, who picked the younger one up by the front of his tunic, a scowl on his face. Another boy, who was adorned with two blue tribal tattoos on both his cheeks, dropped his things and placed a hand on the teenagers shoulder.

"Leave him alone, Alymere. He didn't mean it," the boy remarked. The older boy, Alymere turned his head towards his kinsman and sneered as he dropped the smaller boy.

"He ain't even going to last a month." The boy with the tattoos watched as the older boy walked off. Turning to the younger one, he held a hand out to him. Taking the other, the boy smiled up at the teenager, who returned it reluctantly.

"Thank you. Tristan," he said, pushing his hair from his eyes. Tristan looked down at the eight year old. How he had found out his name, he didn't know, because the tribes stayed in their groups and kept at a distance from their rival clansmen. Another boy approached, his curly hair bouncing with step he took. Lancelot. The only boy to come from the Alontae tribe.

"I'm Lancelot. Alymere is one of the Udae." The eight year old looked up at the two older boys and watched them closely.

"I'm Safir, from the Careotae." The tribes were vast in number, but they held few remaining pure blooded Sarmatians, whose lines hadn't been tainted by foreign blood. Lancelot nodded as Tristan walked off, not saying a word to the pair.

"You can ride with me Safir, I noticed you haven't a horse and the journey is long." Even as Safir and Lancelot made there way towards the older boys mount, Safir could feel Tristan's eyes on him.

- - -

The journey as Lancelot had said was long and tiring. Each day they had travelled until the sun had fallen beneath the horizon, then had risen everyday with the sun and travelled again. Britain upon their arrival had welcomed them with nothing but rain and snow and fog. Hadrian's Wall had greeted the group of twenty-six odd Sarmatian boys had found the sight of the large stone structure a grim, cruel fate they had to stay in, until they were sent to their posts throughout Britain.

As they entered the fort, Lancelot sighed from where he sat behind Safir on his horse. "So this is life for the next fifteen years."

"My father called this place is known as Hell to Roman soldiers," Safir said, turning his head to look at his friend.

A large, heavily armoured Roman man walked towards the group as some dismounted, while others tried to keep straight faces at seeing the man had no eyebrows, they looked as if they had been burned off. "Alright, whelps! I'm your commanding officer, until you are given your post, that is."

Lancelot and Safir stood beside Tristan, who silently watched the Roman commander walk down the line, his eyes never revealing what he thought of the Roman. The commander stopped when he reached Safir who stood, back straight and eyes staring straight ahead, never swaying from the wall that seemed so intriguing.
"Your name boy!" the commander ordered, causing the eight year old to look at him. Safir didn't even bother to answer him, only just stared at him to watch as he looked down at him. "Your. Name."

"Safir."

The Roman commander smirked at the boy, only nodding his head as he passed by Lancelot. Safir's shoulders dropped at realising, he was the only one, who the Roman didn't seem to agree with.
"Alright you lot! For the first few months of ye service, you'll be staying in the barracks. Many of you will be reposted to other Forts, later on. Now, follow the guards to your new rooms."

The Sarmatian boys did as ordered, leaving their horses in the care of the stable hands. Safir followed Lancelot down the hallways, making sure to keep within his sight.

"Two to a room, until you become knights you will live here in the barracks, now move it!" the soldier ordered. Lancelot and Safir found the first room that was empty and threw their things onto one of the cots on each corner of the room. The curly-haired boy had only just shut the door, when it burst open and two boys fell in. Both Sarmatians standing near their beds looked at each other then to the two who had fallen through the door.

"I'm Gawain," the blonde, rough looking one said, as he kept his companion in a headlock. The other boy struggled to get free and Lancelot laughed. "Oh! And, this little guy is Galahad. Who are you?"

"Lancelot. That is Safir."

The one named Galahad elbowed his companion in the stomach and watched him lean against the wall for support. The nine year old smirked and approached Safir, and wrapped an arm around the eight year olds' shoulders. "You and I are the lucky ones. We are the youngest, which means we get picked on more," he told Safir sarcastically, who laughed, only to receive funny looks from the other three.

"You laugh like a girl," Lancelot stated. Safir turned back and tried to look busy. Gawain grabbed Galahad and started leading him out of the room. Lance glanced over his shoulder at the eight year old sharing a room with him and felt compelled to ask a question. "Who are you really?" Safir froze. "I know you can't be male, for you laugh like a girl and you are too pretty as well." Safir turned and sat down on the cot, not wanting to meet Lancelot's gaze. The older Sarmatian knelt down and placed his hands on Safir's knees. "You are a girl, aren't you?" Safir quickly shook his head in reply, still not looking at him. "I won't tell, only if you give me your real name."

Safir glanced up as Lancelot straightened back up. Lancelot shrugged and turned to leave. "Wait! Do you promise not to tell anyone?" Lance nodded. "I'm Isabelle."

"Well, Isabelle, I'm Lancelot and I knew you were a girl the minute we met," he answered, chuckling at the Sarmatian girls gaping expression. "You are much too sweet and pretty for a boy, Isabelle." He ruffled her hair and she batted his hands away, laughing. He left the room and the young girl, sighed heavily before sitting on the bed. One day in her new life and someone already knew she was a girl. Isabelle heard the call that it was time for dinner and she quickly raced out of the room, not wanting to get into trouble for being late.