Serendipity: the effect by which one accidentally discovers something fortunate, especially while looking for something entirely unrelated.

Had my whole life been leading to this one moment? Every tick of the clock, every sunrise, every goodnight? Was this all my life was going to be? How could this be my fate?

The sound of a safety being clicked off echoed loudly in her ears. Heart pounding she inched forward sweat dripping off her brow landing 66 inches below on the dry dusty ground. Within microseconds it was gone, evaporated, like it had never existed. Doubt entered her mind, causing her hands to shake. How could she do this? Did she have it in her at 23 to kill someone?

A metallic sound clanked nearby and adrenaline pumped into her system steadying her hands, intensifying her senses, and bolstering her confidence in her training and mission. She moved forward the last few feet to the end of what had been her cover. The old rusty pipes had served their purpose well. With one deep breath she whipped around the corner, gun leveled. Time slowed as she put him in her sights and pulled the trigger. Two nearly simultaneous bangs reverberated loudly in her head. The sound was so loud it overpowered her senses, her mind not even realizing she had fallen to the ground.

A cool breeze whipped overhead, cooling the sweat off her body, and drying out the blood seeping into the ground. She could hear shouts all around as she stared up into the sky, the sun blazed overhead and her vision began to go white. Small flecks began to circle down as the sounds of the world became muted in her ears.

"Beautiful." She said in barely a whisper as a hawk already began to circle in.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dag!" Bors yelled following his tall friend through the street. People parted like water in front of him, some terrified others in their perpetual awe of any of the knights.

They might have been slaves to Rome but to the people at the wall they were heroes. It was the one outpost along the stretch of Hadrian's Wall that had been attacked only once. After the knights had crushed Merlin's advance he had never tried to take the gate again. This had granted a reprieve, a sense of peace to the surrounding village. It was their own little Eden, and they got to see their heroes walk by in the flesh and blood every day.

"What?"

"Have you seen that blasted scout of ours?"

"I believe he is still out on the mission Arthur gave him." Dag replied evenly watching the crowd's mill around about them.

"Bloody figures. That good for noth….." Bors voice faded as he walked back in the direction of the barracks causing Dagonet to smile. Though he wondered what Tristan had done that had Bors in such a foul mood.

Meanwhile the cause of Bors anger was riding back through the dense undergrowth of the forest; troubled by the evidence of Woad movement he had found in the area. They usually stayed north especially in the colder winter months when it was much more dangerous to travel. He smiled at the thought of getting some fresher food and not the traveling rations he had with him. A nice apple would do him just fine. Well that and a warm dry place to sleep. A smirk appeared on his face. If only people could hear the way he thought, they'd never stop laughing. It always amused him how everyone looked at him, like he was a monster. Yes he enjoyed killing much more than the average person, but what would one expect. He was good at it so he might as well enjoy his current occupation. But the one thing he had always longed for was the day when he wouldn't have to anymore; the day when this enslavement would be over and he could breathe free air again, a time when he could go where he wanted when he wanted, that would be his true freedom.

He snapped out of his thoughts when Isolde let out a piercing cry to his right. He felt stupid for having not sensed danger so close by. Tristan drew an arrow and cautiously began to approach the area Isolde was slowly circling. He was irritated when the brush became thick, like something was trying to keep him from reaching whatever had caused Isolde's distress. Throwing caution to the wind he hacked at the brambles and they gave way easily before his onslaught.

He paused in surprise when he saw a small group of Woads encircling a figure on the ground. The figure pushed itself to its knees, red slowly dying the pure snow around. One of the Woads drew a sword and stepped in closer raising it. Tristan still didn't move. He had not recognized the style of dress and thought it might have been an outlaw, in which case as long as they moved on he would not intervene. That's when the figure looked in his direction and cool blue eyes met grey.

He loosed the arrow without a thought piercing the leader's neck with ease. The rest of the group turned in unison in his direction pulling out their weapons. He fired off two more arrows as he stepped out into the open, hoping the lady would move out of the clearing before she was injured further. That was the last he was able to think about when they all moved towards him in a deadly dance. As surprised as he had been to find them that close to the wall they were even less prepared to come face to face with a knight and he dispatched them easily and quickly. The once pristine grove bathed in blood and broken bodies.

Sheathing his sword he surveyed the ground not finding the woman amongst the fallen. A small trail of blood and disturbed snow led out of the clearing into the dense forest. Following it proved more difficult than he thought, and he wondered how the lady had moved through the brambles so quickly. Within a few moments he located that which he had been looking for; a calm fury writhing throughout him as he looked down at the broken body. Isolde flew down and perched on one of the many branches raising his gaze up to her.

"Keep watch."

Almost as if understanding those very words the hawk flew out and began a slow sweep of the vicinity.

Tristan knelt down next to the figure taking in a closer look. He had never seen the style of dress before, for that matter he could not recall ever really seeing a woman in pants. He reached out and felt the foreign fabric surprised at its softness. He could see leather shoes on the feet, and some form of weapon holder around her ankle and hip; but what type he could not say. The shirt she wore was sheer and was sticking to her skin showing off a very toned body. He couldn't help but rake his eyes over her defined body, and only after a minute did he move on. Chiding himself for wasting time he lifted her body and began to make his way carefully back to his horse.

Dawn stood patiently as Tristan did what he could for the wound on her side. He wrapped what bandages he could find in his saddle bag tightly around her midsection, worried that she had not stirred. Finally he took a closer look at her features as he finished up. Her skin was light but not untanned, her face didn't hold what he would call indescribable beauty but it remained far from plain, and her hair was pulled back from her face. Tristan pulled back slightly at the sight of the blond hair only one word running through his mind, Saxon. He reached down slowly moving some of the loose wisps from the face to look more closely.

Everything was conflicting within him. She was not dressed as a Saxon, and he knew she could not be Woad, Roman, or Briton. Yet she had all the tell tale features of being a Saxon, and that weighed heavily on his mind. Isolde circled down again, impatient to be moving on, and landed on the saddle of Dawn. Tristan looked up from his position, "What should I do?"

Isolde cocked her head to the side and then fluttered down onto the round. Almost cautiously Isolde made her way over to where Tristan and the woman were. Dawn pawing at the frozen ground behind her. Tristan watched as Isolde slowly made her way over to them, the lady stretched out before him. She surveyed the woman before her and curled up in the crock of her neck before looking back up at her master.

"Alright she comes."

A/N Please review and let me know what you think so far.

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with King Arthur, enough said.