Disclaimer: I own nothing related to King Arthur.


The town was bustling with people by the time she reached the main square. Children were playing in the streets while their mothers chased after them, men were going about their daily duties, and she even spotted a few questionably-dressed women sauntering towards what appeared to be the town tavern, probably in search of a 'customer' to buy their company. It was much like she remembered and she immediately felt nostalgic, recalling times when she and her father had walked these very streets together.

As she hopped off of Lugh, she noticed that many of the people around her were staring with interest, obviously surprised by the sudden appearance of a newcomer. She wasn't exactly sure where to leave Lugh, uncomfortable with the thought of tying him up amongst so many strangers, but was saved from having to fret about it any further when a deep voice sounded behind her. "My old friend. It has been far too long."

Breck paused, then turned towards the voice so she could eye the man who had spoken. Though he was older now, with dark stubble on his face and muscles that hadn't previously been there in childhood, she recognized the green eyes staring at her with barely concealed joy. At once, a smile broke out over her face and she stepped forward so she could hug him tightly. "Arthur Castus," she said fondly in greeting as he squeezed her in a tight hug. "You are a most welcome sight."

"I almost did not believe my ears when I was told you were calling on me," he admitted. Arthur pulled away from the hug after that but kept his hands on her shoulders, taking in her appearance before grinning at her. "My word," he said in astonishment, "The last I saw of you, you were a mere runt of a girl. Now look at you - you have blossomed into a beautiful young woman," he complimented with a happy grin.

Breck laughed and patted his cheek. "Always with the flattery," she teased. "The last I saw of you, you were naught but a scrawny child of twelve who loved to sling pig slop into my hair. Now you are sporting the beginnings of facial hair." He rubbed his jaw and nodded, chuckling at her observations. "Tell me, where is the boy I left?"

"Grown, albeit reluctantly so, if I am to be truthful," he answered. His eyes turned to Lugh and he released her to pat the horse's nose, an appreciative look on his face. "A fine beast. What is his name?"

"Lugh," Breck answered proudly. "He has seen me through many troubled times." She then looked around, searching for a place for him to stay while she and Arthur spoke. Her eyes lingered on a few men standing nearby who were watching her and Arthur with interest. Breck placed a protective hand on Lugh, not sure if they were sizing up her or her horse. "Is there a safe place that I may keep him?" Breck asked, emphasizing the word 'safe'.

Arthur nodded and turned to call for someone. She watched as a young boy seemed to materialize from thin are and came running over. Breck smiled at both his enthusiasm and the way he looked at Arthur as though he were a God. "Take this horse to the Knight's stable, and treat him with the utmost care," he instructed the boy before turning back to Breck. "That is the safest place for him and he will be taken good care of, I assure you," Arthur promised before expectantly holding out his hand for the reigns.

Breck nodded, kissed Lugh's nose, then handed the reigns to Arthur. After Breck had snatched her bag off of Lugh's back, Arthur passed the reigns over to the boy and then the two of them watched as he led the horse away, quickly disappearing into the crowd.

Arthur finally placed a hand on her back to lead her away. "So," he said, guiding her through the square and toward his quarters. "It is Breck of Ireland now?" He questioned interestedly. Being one of only a few who knew her true heritage, he seemed intrigued by the fact that she was not claiming her Saxon blood.

"Aye," she answered with a nod. "I found it is much easier for me to travel and trade when I do not tell people I am half Saxon," she then informed him matter-of-factly. "People think me less threatening."

Arthur nodded his understanding. "So how are you faring, old friend?" Arthur asked as he reached the door to his estate and he pulled it open, motioning her through first. "What have you been doing? I wish to know everything I have missed these fourteen years," he urged as they began winding their way through the maze of hallways.

"I have been well," Breck answered with a smile. She couldn't help but notice as servants scooted out of their way and inclined their heads to Arthur respectfully as they passed. It was odd to acknowledge the fact that her friend was no longer a young, skinny boy without worries or obligations, but rather a man of power, a warrior, a Lord. She only wished she had been around to see the transformation. "I have been busy, as well," she continued, focusing on Arthur again. "I have done much travelling and have gone very far, yet when I realized how close my journey had brought me to Hadrian's Wall, I could not resist stopping to see my old friend." Arthur squeezed Breck's shoulder, and the two shared a fond smile. "I must admit, I was rather worried you would have no recollection of me since we have been parted for so many years," she admitted, "I am elated that you have not forgotten me."

"How could I?" He asked, raising his eyebrows at her. "You have always been like family to me, Breck, and neither time, nor absence, has changed that." Then he gave her a serious look. "And do not believe for one moment I have forgotten my promise to you – you are most welcome here and are free to stay as long as you wish."

Breck grinned, beyond happy to hear it. Arthur returned the grin before patting her back and stepping ahead to open a pair of large double doors. She knew at once they had reached his council room, because there was a large, ornate, round table right in the middle of his chambers. It was Arthur's Round Table, just as the rumors had depicted, and she smiled at the sight, feeling a bit awed. She frowned uncertainly, however, when she spied a few abandoned goblets of wine resting in front of some of the chairs, giving off the impression that he had been visiting with someone before her unexpected arrival.

"Forgive me, did I interrupt you during your business?" She asked as they stepped into the room and he closed the doors behind them.

"Do not be silly," Arthur said, waving off her doubts, "I was merely meeting with a few of my knights. Have no fear, I see them daily," he continued reassuringly when she didn't look convinced. "I can take time away from my men to reunite with an old friend. Now sit," he urged, ushering her into one of the seats. "You look in need of good food and good drink."

Breck didn't bother arguing and took a seat, waiting patiently as Arthur instructed a servant to bring them food and wine. After the servant left, Arthur took the seat next to her. Breck relaxed in her chair, soothed by the presence of her old friend, and smiled over at him, patting his hand. "Lord Arthur…," she mused allowing, trying the name out on her tongue and finding a little odd. She glanced around the room, nodding with impressed eyes. "You appear to be doing well. I am happy for you."

"Many thanks," Arthur said, fetching the abandoned wine goblets and filling them with what was left in the wine decanter in front of them. Others might have turned their noses up at be offered a dirty goblet, but it didn't even occur to Breck to do so. She accepted it happily and clinked her goblet against his before taking a generous gulp. The wine was good, unsurprisingly, and she smacked her lips in approval. "It is quite taxing sometimes, leading this life," Arthur continued after he swallowed his wine, "but I have good men at my side." He paused to take another long drink, then tilted his head curiously. "Tell me, have you taken a husband?"

Breck snorted amusedly and shook her head. "The answer is a firm no," she told him with a laugh. "And I have no intentions of doing any such thing anytime in the foreseeable future," she reaffirmed, which made Arthur nod in understanding. "And you?" Breck asked in return.

"Well, seeing as I do not fancy men…" He trailed off in a teasing manner.

Breck laughed again and slapped his shoulder. "You understood what I meant," she scolded good-naturedly.

Arthur laughed for a moment and then shook his head. "No. No wife for me yet," he answered with a small, resigned shrug.

Breck's eyebrows shot upward. She didn't see Arthur as anything more than a surrogate brother, but that didn't mean she was blind. Arthur was tall and muscular, with thick, curly hair atop his head, piercing green eyes, and strong, masculine features. In short, he was a very handsome man. To hear that he was unmarried was very surprising to her. "Are the women here mad?" She couldn't help but ask incredulously.

He smirked in amusement. "That is still to be determined," he joked.

Their conversation lulled for a moment as the servant returned with a new decanter of wine and a large plate filled with fresh bread, cheese, and chunks of meat. Breck and Arthur thanked him as he set the food and wine on the table before them, before leaving the room to tend to other chores when Arthur dismissed him. Then they both dug into the food.

"How is your father?" Arthur asked, looking a bit more serious now.

The mention of her father, as always, resulted in a small pang in her heart. Breck took a gulp of wine to wash the feeling away and then smiled at Arthur sadly, picking up a few pieces of food as she turned her eyes away from his searching gaze. "My father has passed on," she informed him quietly. "It had been nearly seven years now since his death."

The news visibly upset him. "I did not know. You have my sympathies, friend," Arthur said soberly, a frown gracing his handsome features. "I know how painful the loss is, for I too have lost my father," he revealed. Breck squeezed his hand comfortingly and offered him an empathetic smile. In return, Arthur tightened his grip on her hand for a moment. "How did Kenrick pass?"

"It was a warrior's death – he died in battle," she said slowly, suddenly thinking back to when she had been thirteen and watched her father ride into battle for the last time. She had begged him not to go, but he had insisted, claiming that he was the only one who could effectively lead the town soldiers against the enemy. It had been the last time she ever saw her father alive. "It was Cerdic who killed him," she revealed, the name tasting sour on her tongue.

"Cerdic?" Arthur asked in surprise. "The Saxon?"

"Aye," she confirmed. "What of your father?" Breck asked to try to change the subject, not wanting to ruin their reunion with talk of Cerdic. "How did he pass?"

"Battle as well," Arthur answered. "But I wish to hear more of Cerdic," he then insisted, not letting her change the subject. "I thought he did not know where you were. How is it your father came to face him again?"

Breck sighed and took a sip of wine. "He was hunting us," she said simply. "We lived happily in Ireland for seven years with absolutely no troubles, so we foolishly believed he had forgotten us." She paused to snort bitterly. "How wrong we were. It seems his only mission back then was to find my father and kill him. It took him a long while to track us, but when he did…" She trailed off before taking another long drink of her wine. Arthur was staring intently at her, waiting for her to continue. "There was a battle and it was then that my father died. And I have mostly been alone ever since."

"Then where have you been? How did you survive on your own at such a young age? And how did you make your way here again?" Arthur asked her curiously, obviously troubled to hear of everything she'd gone through since leaving Hadrian's Wall.

"My father and I took refuge at a monastery in the south of Ireland upon first arriving. We converted to Christianity shortly after and my father grew very close to a priest by the name of Padraig," she explained. "When my father passed, I knew I could not stay in our village – I feared Cerdic would come looking for me to kill me, too. So I left our home and travelled south to live under Father Padraig's care until I was old enough and strong enough to venture out on my own. Then…" She glanced over at Arthur and braced herself, knowing her friend wouldn't be pleased to hear what she had to say next. "Well, then I went searching for Cerdic. I have been tracking his army for some time now."

Arthur blanched at her words and nearly choked on his wine. "You what?" He asked indignantly. "You have been tracking the Saxon army? Alone?"

"Arthur, really, it is of no consequence – " She started to say.

"No consequence?" He cut in irritably. "Are you mad? Do you know what those men would do to you if they captured you? You could have been tortured, or raped, or killed – or all three!" He chastised sternly, before leaning back in his chair and placing a hand over his eyes with a heavy sigh. It was obvious that he did not approve of the way she'd been spending her time, which was not very surprising given how protective of her he had always been. "Speak the truth," Arthur continued slowly, not meeting her eyes, "Tell me you are not tracking Cerdic with a notion of vengeance."

Breck pursed her lips and eyed him uncertainly. "Well, do you wish me to speak the truth…or do you wish me to say it is not because of vengeance?" She asked, hinting to him that if she said the latter it would be a blatant lie.

"My God, Breck," Arthur said in exasperation, dropping his hand from his face so he could glare at her. "You are one woman. You cannot take on an entire army by yourself!"

Breck had expected that Arthur wouldn't take the news of her self-appointed mission very well, but as it was, there was nothing he could say that would change her mind. When Kenrick's dead, mutilated, disgraced body had been wheeled back to their home by his fellow soldiers so many years ago, Breck had felt her entire world cave down around her. Her father had been all that she had left of her family, and Cerdic had finally succeeded in taking him away from her. She had made an oath, then and there, that Cerdic would pay for the crimes he'd committed against her. Breck had lost her entire family because of his greed and insanity – she wanted to make damn sure that nothing like that happened to anyone else.

"I did not say I was attempting to defeat the entire army, only Cerdic…and that insufferable, pig-headed wretch he calls his son," she added, scowling as she thought back to the Saxon's oldest son, Cynric. He was just as much to blame for her mother's death as Cerdic was, and she hated him as much as she hated Cerdic. "Which has proven to be increasingly difficult, by the way," she said as an afterthought, taking another long gulp of wine. Then she frowned at Arthur unhappily. "And what does my being a woman have anything to do with this?" She demanded, feeling a bit offended.

Arthur sucked in a calming breath through his nose. "I meant no offense," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully, "However, Kenrick sacrificed everything to keep you alive, including his own life," he then reminded her. "I may not have known him the way you did, but I doubt he would have wanted you to willingly put yourself in harm's way. What do you think he would he make of this?"

"He would understand," she said firmly. "He lost his wife and his unborn child to a man he trusted above all others – that kind of a betrayal is not something to take lightly, Arthur, nor is it something that one forgets," she stated matter-of-factly. "He wanted to avenge our fallen family as much as I. Trust when I say that had I not survived Cerdic's ambush, he would have wanted to see the man brought to justice and would have hunted him until his dying day."

"But he would never have wanted you to carry out the deed," Arthur countered swiftly, "and especially not alone."

Breck sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to remind herself that snapping at her friend wouldn't be the right thing to do. They had, after all, only just reunited. He was trying her patience, however, just like he had back when they were children and didn't see something eye-to-eye. "I understand you are only concerned," she said in as patient of a tone as she could muster, "but I did not come all this way to be on the receiving end of a lecture."

The look in his eyes turned rather flat. "You thought I would be happy to hear of your plans then?" Arthur asked with a quirked eyebrow. "That you tracking the Saxon army and gallivanting across the country on your own would bring me joy? Honestly, Breck, do not be ridiculous," he said as though he were chastising a seven year old. "Just because we have been separated all these years, that does not mean my feelings for you have changed. You are my friend, practically my sister – I do not wish to see you acting foolishly and endangering yourself. I wish only to see you safe and happy."

"And I am grateful to you for it, honestly," Breck said, reaching for his hand to give it another squeeze. "But many things have changed, Arthur," she continued, "I am not the same girl I was when I lived here. I am not weak or fragile or defenseless like I was then. I can look after myself now." When he still didn't look convinced, nor very happy, Breck heaved and released his hand. "I am sorry, Arthur," she apologized, "I did not come to cause you trouble, I swear it."

He still didn't look all that thrilled, but the tone of her voice made his expression lose some of its edge. "I am not so sure," Arthur grumbled, "If memory serves me correctly, trouble follows you wherever you go, regardless if you invited it or not. And it was always I who helped you out of said trouble." Breck cracked a smile at that, which thankfully he returned. She saw no better time to refill their wine goblets and quickly did so, hoping if he drank more he'd lighten up some. "I do not wish to sound encouraging, but I must ask," he said, nodding his hand gratefully as she passed his glass back to him, "Is the Saxon army drawing nearer to Briton?"

Breck's brows furrowed as she sipped her wine. Her muscles were starting to feel a bit tingly now that the alcohol was beginning to take effect. "They are not as far away as you might like," she admitted honestly, "but they are not on the island, either, nor am I certain they have plans to come to Briton."

Arthur nodded, visibly relaxing. "That is good news, I suppose." He studied her for a moment over the rim of his goblet as he took a long gulp of his drink. "How long do you intend to stay?" He asked, changing the subject.

"I hadn't really thought about it," Breck told him with a shrug. "How long do you wish me to stay?"

"Truthfully, I would have you stay permanently and build a new life here rather than chasing after Cerdic and his Saxons," he said unabashedly, shooting her a look. "But knowing your stubbornness as well as I do," Arthur continued, "I ask only that you agree to this – stay for at least a month. You have been travelling a long while. You should rest and recover. And after being separated for so long," he added with a smile, "I would like very much to spend as much time as possible in the company of my friend again."

Breck knew that if she were to stay for such a long time that it was very likely she would lose the trail of the Saxons, which would negate all of her hard efforts for the past few years and make finding them again difficult. Yet being back at Hadrian's Wall and back with her old friend felt right…and normal. And normalcy was not something she'd had the luxury of feeling since she had decided to chase after Cerdic. Plus the thought of staying at the Wall and getting reacquainted with Arthur was too tempting to ignore.

Breck met Arthur's hopeful gaze and, just like when they were children, she found it impossible to deny him what he wanted. With a sigh of defeat, she shook her head and smirked at him wryly. "Alright, Arthur, you win," she finally conceded. "I will stay for at least a month."

Arthur looked positively elated that she had agreed and grabbed her hand, pressing a kiss to the top of it. "Thank you," he said sincerely, the happiness in his gaze leaving her with no doubt that she had made the right decision.

After that Arthur released her hand and went to the door so he could call for a servant, informing them to send for someone by a name that she did not recognize. While he did this, Breck gazed at his back, rather amazed that even though they had been separated for so long, time had not changed their bond. She still trusted him as she had when she was a child and he still was playing the role of an overbearingly protective older brother – it felt as though they had never been apart in the first place.

The notion that she at least still had someone in this world that cared for her was a comfort, but she also knew that her plans for Cerdic might have just hit a bump in the road. Arthur would be none too pleased whenever it came time for her to leave and search for Cerdic again. Plus she had a feeling that once she settled in at Hadrian's Wall that it would be even harder to leave than it had been the first time – after all, the last time she had felt this safe and welcome was when she'd lived with her father in Ireland, nearly seven years ago. Living with Father Padraig had been fine, of course, and he was someone she knew she could turn to for support. But Arthur was different – they had history and she loved him as though he were her flesh and blood. They had been each other's constant companions before they were forced to go their separate ways, and now that that friendship was being rekindled, she wasn't so sure it was something she'd be able to let go a second time.

"Breck?" Arthur asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

She snapped back to reality and smiled at him as he reclaimed the seat next to her. "Forgive me," she said with a small laugh. "The wine must be affecting me."

Arthur nodded with a small, amused smile and took a drink of his wine. "Good, then drink more," he urged, making her laugh before she did as he'd instructed. "I sent for Vanora, the woman of one of my knights," he explained as he grabbed a piece of meat and stuffed it into his mouth. "She will show you where your quarters will be and provide you with some more suitable clothing."

Breck quirked an eyebrow and glanced down at her attire, which consisted of men's trousers, a worn tunic, a weather-beaten jerkin, and a pair of leather boots. "And what, pray tell, is so offensive about my current dress?" She asked him in mock offense.

"Nothing…if you wish to be mistaken for a man," he shot at her cheekily, making her glare at him. He chuckled to himself for a moment before sobering up. "You will need coin. What shall you do for work?"

"I had not considered it, seeing as I had not planned to stay for long originally," she admitted with a shrug.

"And what have you been doing for coin in other places?" Arthur questioned, looking as though he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"Nothing of those likes," she scolded with a scowl and a firm slap to his shoulder, knowing exactly what he was hinting at. He just snickered to himself for a moment. "I usually work jobs I can find," she continued, "Training children in fighting, selling trinkets, working in stables…that sort of thing. Being raised for most of my life by men means I am not particularly as skilled in 'womanly duties' as others," she added with a wry smile.

"Ah, well, Jols always could use help at the stables – you remember Jols, do you not?" Breck wracked her brain, vaguely recalling the faint memory of a chubby, brown haired kid that had practically worshipped the ground Arthur walked on, even though he'd been a few years older than him. "And if not that, extra instructors for the men in town are always welcome," Arthur continued with a nod. "Would you be willing?"

"Sure," Breck agreed, though she still frowned with a hint of skepticism. "Though I do not see a grown man being particularly pleased with the idea of being trained to fight by a woman."

"Perhaps they shall just have to keep their complaining to themselves and accept it," Arthur shot at her, which resulted in them sharing a grin. Arthur then clinked his glass against hers again and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I am glad to have you back, Breck," he said, fondness both in his voice and gaze.

Breck reached up to place a hand over his, smiling warmly. "I am glad to be back."


Vanora, the woman Arthur had sent for, arrived about an hour after Arthur sent for her. By that time, Breck and her old friend were well on their way to inebriation. Having dubbed the night one for celebration, they had not shied away from the wine and were in the middle of reminiscing over a particularly hilarious memory, the two of them so doubled over in laughter that they didn't notice her presence at first. When the woman cleared her throat, however, it immediately grabbed their attention.

"Vanora!" Arthur greeted loudly, standing quickly and then instantly looking a bit unstable on his feet. Judging by the surprised look in Vanora's eyes, Breck had to guess that Arthur did not usually partake in drinking as much as they had been. "I thank you for coming," he said respectfully, looking as though he were trying to make it seem that he was not as drunk as he actually was. "Allow me to introduce you to Breck, one of my very dearest friends," he said, placing a proud hand on Breck's back.

Breck stood from her chair and went to meet Vanora halfway with an extended hand, shaking the woman's hand once she was close enough. She was a pretty woman, with red curly hair, pale skin, and kind eyes. Her coloring was so similar to Breck's that they looked like they could have been sisters. "Pleased to make your acquaintance," she said with a polite smile.

"And yours as well," Vanora responded.

"Breck, forgive me, but are you terribly opposed to staying in the same quarters that my knights reside?" Arthur asked with a guilty expression. "You will have your own living area and their protection, but it is not the more boast-worthy of places."

Breck shook her head, used to sleeping in not so wonderful places. "I do not mind, so long as your knights mind their manners and keep their hands to themselves," she said with a shrug.

Vanora suddenly laughed, drawing a quizzical look from both Breck and Arthur. The woman blushed a bit and fell quiet, but there was still amusement in her eyes. "Forgive me, but I know the men very well. It is hard to imagine that they will be able to 'mind their manners' – or their hands, for that matter – around such a pretty woman."

Breck grinned and then shot Arthur a playful look – normally, hearing people compliment her appearance made her feel a little uncomfortable. But because of the wine in her belly, she rather liked it now. "I like this woman, she even brings flattery."

Arthur laughed and then placed a hand on Vanora's shoulder. "Vanora, if it is not too much to ask, could you please provide Breck with some new clothing for her stay?" He asked, fishing out some money from the pouch at his hip before handing them over to the redheaded lady.

"Of course, my Lord," Vanora readily agreed, tucking the coins safely into one of her skirt pockets.

Satisfied, Arthur patted Vanora's shoulder before turning back to Breck. "Will you join me in the tavern tonight?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. "So that we may continue our celebration, of course."

"Surely," Breck happily agreed with a nod, more than excited at the idea of a night of fun with her friend. "Will we be joined by the infamous Sarmatian knights?"

"I am sure we will," Arthur answered with a nod. "Now leave, you two," he said, shooing the two women away with his hands, "so that I may finish some business before you have me intoxicated beyond the point of coherency."

Vanora smiled, nodded, and then motioned towards the door. "Shall we?" She asked Breck, before leading her out of Arthur's council room and leaving the man to his business. Breck only stopped to wave at Arthur one last time before the doors shut behind her. Then she and Vanora headed for the Knight's quarters.


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