Aaaand the next one!

Lancelot walked down the corridor towards Gawain's room. He'd normally speak to Arthur about this, not only because he didn't want Gawain to think he was of the whining sort, but Arthur was … otherwise engaged, as Lancelot had learnt when he had entered his friend's chamber unannounced.

Never again.

He stopped in front of Gawain's door and banged against it.

"Gawain!" he bellowed, pounding against the wood.

"Stop breaking down my door, you bastard!" Gawain's yell came muffled through the door. A second later it was wrenched open and Gawain glared at Lancelot.

"Honestly, did you just feel the sudden urge to destroy other people's property?" he said irritated.

"Yes, it just hit me, I don't know why," Lancelot answered sarcastically.

"What do you want?" Gawain grunted as he let Lancelot into the room.

"I think I'm ill," Lancelot said turning to his friend, who closed the door.

"Ill?" Gawain asked. "A gut wrenching pain in the stomach ill or ill as in hung over?"

"Neither," Lancelot answered, shaking his head. "I grow light headed, dizzy and yes, my stomach does feel funny, but not in a painful sort of way."

"Sounds like you ate wrong mushrooms," Gawain said, looking very amused.

"No, I didn't," Lancelot answered calmly.

"Alright, then, no evil mushrooms. Are you feeling dizzy right now?"

"No."

"Well I don't know! Go see someone who actually knows something about sickness."

"That's what I'm doing," Lancelot said, feeling the heat creep up his neck. He was sure he wasn't going to enjoy this next part.

"Huh?" Gawain asked dumbfounded.

"I feel like that every time I look at…at Aethelinda," Lancelot said through his teeth.

Gawain stared at him for a minute without responding.

"Are you alright?" Lancelot asked suspiciously.

"You feel like that around a … woman?" Gawain asked.

"Well, I don't know if that is the case, but all these symptoms appear when I see her. What do you think that means?" Lancelot asked.

Gawain stared at him for a second; then a slight grin crossed his face.

"I know exactly what that means," he said, the grin spreading across his face.

"Okay," Lancelot said hesitantly. "And what is-"

"Wait," Gawain interrupted him. He closed his eyes, pressed his fingertips together and took a deep breath. "I have to cherish this moment. This is too good to be true."

"What are you talking about?" Lancelot asked, growing irritated.

"You, my dear," Gawain said, opening his eyes again, "are falling for our little Saxon girl."

There was silence for a few moments.

"You're joking, right?" Lancelot asked amused.

"What do you mean?" Gawain asked, looking confused.

"Is that really the best joke you could come up with?" Lancelot asked.

"It's not a joke," Gawain said calmly.

"Yeah, right, like I'm going to believe that!" Lancelot snorted. He looked at Gawain, waiting to see him grin, but Gawain's face was serious.

"It's not a joke," he repeated quietly. Lancelot stared at him.

"Well, if you really believe that, let me tell you: it is the most ludicrous idea I've ever heard and it is certainly not true. She's not that pretty."

Gawain snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Do you really think it only comes down to beauty?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I've known you for 15 years, Lancelot," Gawain said. "I know you have very high standards for girls' appearances. Well, not always, but most of the time. You can be rather picky. But we're not talking, or at least I'm not talking about spending a night with a girl. I'm talking about falling for a girl. And there's a lot more to that than simply looks. Like you said, Aethelinda isn't the prettiest girl here. But she's different. She's got quite a big mouth, can talk like a sailor, she's wild, passionate, fierce, dangerous, and at the same time fragile and scared. You've never known someone like her. Hell, I don't think anyone's ever known someone like her. Maybe the reason that you like her so much, is that there is so much more to her than just what's on the outside."

Again, there was silence. Gawain and Lancelot looked at each other, Lancelot carrying a rather frightening expression on his face.

"You're mad," he finally said. "You're mad, you are."

"Why's that?" Gawain asked.

"I…I don't…like Aethelinda. I mean, I like her, but I don't like her. I'm not like that, you know that."

"Yeah, I know. Which is why I see what you have yet to see. You really do like her. I've seen you with all the women before, Lancelot. This is different. Completely different."

"I'm not denying it isn't different, but it's not like that!" Lancelot almost yelled.

"What is it, then?" Gawain asked, still calm.

"I just enjoy her company! She's so…new, so different. It's like she can read my mind, she always knows when something is bothering me and she speaks my thoughts. She isn't afraid of anything. Well anything except of what is in her past. The way she talks, you'd think she's lived thousands of years; it's not like the mindless conversations with the tavern girls. She actually has something to say. And when she talks about something, you have the feeling she's actually experiencing it! Her eyes lighten up, they sparkle like-"

Lancelot broke off as he saw the expression on Gawain's face.

"What?" he asked.

"And you still think you don't like her?" Gawain asked.

"I don't," Lancelot said firmly.

"My god, you're blind," Gawain groaned in frustration.

"No, you are," Lancelot retorted.

"Listen," Gawain said intently. "You say you don't like her, I say you do. Let's find out who's right. Or rather, let's make you see that I am right. Don't interrupt me. Just like you said, every time you're around her, you'll feel light headed, dizzy, happy. When she smiles at you, you're heart will jump, when you accidentally touch her, your stomach will churn. When you see her with another man…you'll want to kill him. You won't be able to keep your eyes off her. I swear to you, Lancelot, you won't be able to keep your eyes off her."

"That's ridiculous," Lancelot snorted.

"We'll see about that," Gawain said, shrugging. "We'll eventually run into her, won't we? Then we'll see who's right."

"Yes, we will," Lancelot agreed fiercely.

"Here's to us!" Bors slurred, trying to raise his mug off the table.

It was evening and all the knights were sitting around a table in the tavern.

"Bors, I think you had enough," Gawain said, trying to remove the mug of ale from his friend's grip.

"No!" Bors yelled, jerking his hand away and spilling half of the mug's content onto the wood.

"Great, Vanora's going to be thrilled if we bring him home in this state," Gawain growled.

"Yeah, well, if we're going to bring him home drunk we might as well let him drink until he passes out. That way he won't wake up half the neighbourhood," Lancelot said.

"True. You can finish your ale," Gawain said to Bors, who grunted.

"So," Gawain said in an important voice. "Lancelot likes our Saxon girl."

"What?" Arthur and Galahad yelled in unison.

"No I don't!" Lancelot said exasperated. "Shut up, Gawain!"

"He does," Gawain said. "He's growing all warm and cuddly when she's around and-"

"Shut it, will you?" Lancelot said angrily. "I told you that in confidence!"

"So you do like her?" Galahad asked.

"No! I just…nothing!" Lancelot groaned.

"Why did you tell Gawain before me?" Arthur asked, sounding edgy.

"Because you were in no position to talk, if you remember;" Lancelot said angrily.

"There's no need to get snappy," Arthur said defensively.
"Oh I am SO sorry!" Lancelot yelled. "I needed to talk to you, but you didn't have time for me, so I needed to find someone else. And now that you find out what it is, you're jealous! That's just stupid! It's not my fault, it's yours!"

"Excuse me," Arthur spluttered. "Some of us are married, we have certain duties. And since when did you set anything over bedding women on your priority chart?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lancelot asked, glaring at Arthur.

"Stop it, you two," Gawain groaned, rolling his eyes.

"I certainly won't!" Lancelot growled. "This is all your fault to begin with! If you hadn't brought it up-"

"Oh, now it's my fault, is it?" Gawain shouted. "If I remember you were just blaming Arthur."

"Thanks for having my back!" Arthur yelled at Gawain.

"Survival of the fittest," Gawain said shrugging.

"What's that supposed to mean? That you're stronger than I am?" Arthur asked.

"Well spotted, "Gawain answered dryly. "Not that that is great news."

"Oh please, you couldn't beat me if you tried," Arthur snorted.

"Want to go out and see?" Gawain asked, glaring.

"By all means," Arthur responded coolly.

"God, you two sound like children," Lancelot drawled.

"Oh, you shut up!" Arthur yelled.

"Yeah!" Gawain shouted. "At least we don't sound like girls!"

"I beg your pardon?" Lancelot asked incredulously.

"You and your mushy warm feelings!"

"Shut up!"

"I will not!"

"Yes, you will!"

"Well, he's right!"

"No, he isn't!"

"Yes, he is!"

"Yes, I am!"

"No, he's not. You're not!"

"I proposed."

Lancelot, Gawain and Arthur fell silent.

They looked around. Galahad was the only one still sitting; the others had jumped to their feet. Galahad was sitting there, looking at the mug in front of him, his cheeks flushed.

"Er, what now?" Lancelot asked.

"Yeah, I think I misheard you," Gawain said.

"I proposed," Galahad said quietly.

"You proposed what?" Lancelot asked stupidly.

"You proposed to whom?" Gawain asked stupidly.

"I proposed marriage," Galahad said. "To Clarissant."

"Who? Oh, is that Vanora's little sister?" Arthur asked.

Galahad nodded. The three men sat down again, all staring at Galahad.

"You proposed marriage? Actual marriage?" Gawain asked.

"What other kind of marriage is there?" Lancelot asked and Gawain glared at him.

"Don't you think you might be moving … a bit…well, a bit fast?" Arthur asked.

"Look who's talking," Lancelot said as Gawain snorted.

"What?" Arthur asked.

"You proposed to Guinevere after two weeks. Galahad waited at least seven," Lancelot said.

"Eight," Galahad said.

"Eight," Lancelot said.

"And?" Gawain asked.

"Yeah, what did she say?" Lancelot asked eagerly,

"She said…yes," Galahad murmured, his ears turning bright red.

"Congratulations!" Gawain roared as Lancelot thumped Galahad on the back and Arthur gave a shout of triumph.

Galahad stared at them in confusion.

"You're not going to…insult me, or make fun of me?" he asked.

"Why would we do that?" Arthur asked.

"What are you talking about?" Gawain wanted to know.

"Of course we will," Lancelot said brightly. "But not right now. Now is the time for celebration. Another round of ale! Where is Vanora?" he said, looking around.

As his eyes wandered over the many people in the tavern, he saw Aethelinda coming through the door. A jolt went through his entire body, as she saw him and smiled. He smiled back and she started to make her way through the crowd. Then, a blonde soldier stepped up to her and said something. Aethelinda smiled and answered, her cheeks growing slightly pink.

Lancelot felt as if his insides had suddenly turned to stone. He followed the conversation between the two with hard eyes.

"You alright?" Gawain asked.

Lancelot turned towards him and followed Gawain's gaze. Lancelot's hand was gripped tightly around his sword.

"Fine," Lancelot said, loosening his grip.

Gawain looked at his friend in confusion, then his gaze fell on something over Lancelot's right shoulder and realization seemed to dawn on him.

""I told you so," Gawain said quietly. Lancelot was sure he was going to laugh and prepared to throw a punch, but Gawain just looked at him for another moment, then he turned towards Galahad and Arthur again.

Lancelot turned around again to see what had happened and looked right at someone's stomach.

"Up here," Aethelinda said and smiled as Lancelot looked up.

"Hello," he said, his heart racing. He blamed it on the shock.

"Do you mind if I join you?" she asked.

"You absolutely have to!" Gawain said, grinning at her and making room for her on the bench.

"We were just celebrating," he continued, as Aethelinda sat down.

"Celebrating what?" she asked, looking around expectantly.

"Galahad's engagement," Arthur said, clapping his friend on the back.

"So you finally proposed to Clarissant?" Aethelinda asked. "A good thing you did. She was getting worried that you were just playing with her the way Bors is with Vanora."

"What?" Gawain, Arthur and Galahad said in unison.

"Bors isn't playing with Vanora," Lancelot said sharply.

"There's no need to snap at me," she said, regarding him coolly. "Anyway, I never said that. It's what Clarissant thinks."

Lancelot kicked himself inwardly.

"You've talked to Clarissant about these things?" Gawain asked.

"Sure," Aethelinda said, shrugging.

"When? Why?" Galahad asked.

"It involved an incident which started with a drunken soldier making a pass at her late at night and ended with me beating the living daylight out of him. Girls bond over such things," she said, winking and all the men laughed. Lancelot found the winking very appealing.

"Anyway, congratulations," Aethelinda said, smiling at Galahad. "You've got yourself a real angel." Galahad smiled back, his head turning bright read yet again.

A loud bang made them all jump. Bors had finally managed to pass out and was slumped over the table. Arthur groaned and he and Gawain laid their friend onto the bench, pushing Aethelinda off in the process.

"Sorry," Gawain said, holding out his hand to her, which she took.

Lancelot felt another twitch.

"There's no room on this bench anymore," Arthur gasped, rolling Bors into the right position.

"No problem," Aethelinda said. "I can sit down here."

She walked around the table and sat down next to Lancelot, her arm brushing against his.

He felt his heart jump at the contact. He looked up quickly and found Gawain watching him intently.

"So, "she said, turning towards Lancelot. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you," he answered, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Good," she said and smiled.

Since when did she smile so much? Why was she so happy? Was it because of the soldier?

"Who was that soldier you were talking to before?" he asked, trying to sound barely interested. He could feel Gawain's gaze on him, but decided to ignore it

"Oh, that was Claudas," Aethelinda said, her smile growing wider.

"Right," Lancelot said through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the hot anger in his stomach.

"Yes, we sometimes train sword fights together and I completely destroyed him today. He has the most wonderful wife. And his daughter is so beautiful," she gushed.

"Wife? Daughter?" Lancelot asked, feeling as though a huge weight had been lifted off him.

"Yes, they're wonderful," she said, still smiling at him.

"Excuse me; is there still room at this table?"

Lancelot looked up and felt his heart drop.

The blonde serving girl was standing in front of him, throwing a dismissive look at Aethelinda before she looked at him again and started beaming.

Oh noooo! The perfect mood is interrupted by the easy tavern girl! What will happen? Will she destroy everything? Will Lancelot choose her instead (yeah, right!)? Will Aethelinda give up her seat for her?

I'll let you know real soon! And please please please review, people! I love writing fan fiction, but I don't actually see any point in posting it, if I don't get any reviews!