Aaand the next one! I won't be able to update until next week, because I'm away on holiday, so I thought I'd give you a real treat in this one. Enjoy!

"Sorry, I don't think we can squeeze another one in," Gawain said.

"Why? There's still room here," the blonde girl said, pointing at the four inches of bare bench between Lancelot and Aethelinda.

"However slender you might be, I doubt you'll fit in there," Aethelinda said coolly.

The girl smirked at her and threw her blonde hair over her shoulder.

"I think I'll fit in there very nicely," she said and before anyone else could say anything, she squeezed herself between Aethelinda and Lancelot, shoving Aethelinda half off her seat.

"See?" she said, smiling radiantly at Lancelot.

"Great," he said, not quite sure what to say or do.

On the one hand, he wasn't that fond of the girl being here; he didn't want her to think that she could win him over by showing up everywhere he went. And on the other hand… he had to admit that the created space between Aethelinda and himself made it a lot more easy to focus and think clearly. So it really wasn't about women, it was about Aethelinda. Maybe she was carrying a virus that made him feel that way…

"So," Galahad said, looking rather uncomfortable. "Who wants another ale?"

"I'll help you get it," Arthur practically yelled and sprang to his feet.

Lancelot threw him a dark look and Arthur walked away, trying to appear apologetic, but not able to keep the relief from his face.

"Traitor," Lancelot mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" the blonde girl asked, turning towards him.

"Nothing," he answered, managing a smile. She smiled back, fluttering her lashes a bit too strong. "So what's it like being a strong brave knight, killing the evil and protecting the good?" she asked.

Aethelinda snorted and the blonde girl turned towards her, her expression not so friendly anymore.

"Yes?" she asked.

"You've already bedded the man; why are you asking him that now? Don't you ever update your lines?" she asked frostily.

"Do you have anything else to say?" the girl asked, her voice just as icy.

"Yes," Aethelinda replied.

"And what might that be?"

"You're in my seat," Aethelinda answered, her voice deadly calm.

Throwing her head back, the girl laughed loudly.

"Do you really think that a knight would prefer sitting next to a Saxon girl than to me?" she asked. Aethelinda raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well, let's ask him then, shall we?" the girl said and turned towards Lancelot. "Would you rather sit next to me or to her?"

"Er…" Lancelot was at a loss for words. What was the right answer to that question? Was there even a right answer? There was no right answer to that question!

"Well, I don't know…I don't mind … sitting like this," he said desperately.

A triumphant grin spread across the blonde girl's face. Aethelinda's expression froze and her eyes grew hard and angry.

"God you're stupid," Gawain moaned under his breath.

"What was I supposed to say?" Lancelot asked through gritted teeth.

"I'd prefer Aethelinda sitting next to me?" Gawain said.

"But I don't!" Lancelot whispered, while Aethelinda and the girl were glaring daggers at each other.

"What?" Gawain asked.

"It feels kind of uncomfortable…in a good way," Lancelot said quietly.

"Uncomfortable in a good way?" Gawain asked matter of factly. "You do realize that doesn't actually make any sense, do you? Because I'd be pretty alarmed right now if you didn't."

"Oh, shut your face!" Lancelot hissed, as Gawain grinned.

"Right," Aethelinda said, getting to her feet. "I'm leaving."

She looked at Lancelot for a moment. He wasn't sure what it was that he could see in her eyes. Anger, definitely, disappointment, maybe…and something else, something else entirely, but he just couldn't place it…

"A wise decision," the blonde girl said, smirking. "We don't want Saxon scum like you at our table."

Lancelot knew immediately that she had crossed the line.

Aethelinda stood rooted to the spot. Then she slowly turned around, her black eyes glittering with rage.

"What did you just call me?" she hissed.

"Didn't you hear me?" the girl asked. "Saxon scum. Barbarians like you aren't welcome here."

Aethelinda shot forwards so fast, Lancelot barely saw her move.

Her face was only inches from the blonde girl's.

"Don't you dare insult my people," she hissed. "I'll slit your throat if another such word comes out of it."

"Am I supposed to be scared now?" the girl asked.

Aethelinda smirked in a way that Lancelot found rather evil.

"Yes, you should be scared," Aethelinda said as she straightened up again. "Saxons don't get along well with whores."

"Oh, boy," Gawain mumbled.

Lancelot stared at Aethelinda who, still smirking, turned her back on them and started to walk away.

"What did you just call me?" the blonde girl said, getting to her feet.

Aethelinda turned back and took a step towards her.

"Didn't you hear me?" she asked. "I called you a whore."

And then it happened. Again, it was too fast for Lancelot's eyes, but the loud smack was clearly audible.

The blonde girl had slapped Aethelinda in the face with full force and Aethelinda's head snapped to the side, her hair hiding her face from view.

"You'd better learn your place, Saxon," the girl hissed.

Aethelinda turned slowly around, her eyes practically on fire; Lancelot thought he could see sparks flying from them.

Without a warning Aethelinda shot forward and the blonde girl screamed in pain and stumbled back. As she looked up, Lancelot saw four long scratches across her cheek, blood dropping onto the front of her dress. Aethelinda's fingertips were red as well.

"I'll kill you," she hissed and darted forwards again, but Gawain had stood up and grabbed Aethelinda's arms, before she could reach the girl.

"Let me go!" she yelled angrily at Gawain.

"Normally I wouldn't take the 'I'll kill you' phrase seriously, but in your case I know it would in fact be the result, so I'm afraid I can't," Gawain said, no humour in his voice.

Aethelinda glared at him, but didn't resist when he lead her out of the tavern. She only looked at the girl with such loathing in her eyes; Lancelot found he had to look away.

He looked at the girl instead. Blood was still running down her cheek and tears were falling from her eyes.

"You alright?" he asked, fully aware he wasn't sounding very polite.

"Do I look alright?" she snapped at him, grimacing in pain.

"Let's get you out of here," he said tonelessly.

He wasn't very eager to help her with anything, much rather, he felt like following Aethelinda's example and knock some sense into the vain girl. Still, he had manners and a lot of things would have to take place before he hit a girl.

They walked out of the tavern onto the dark street. Gawain and Aethelinda were nowhere to be seen.

They walked onto the other side of the street and followed the wall.

"That filthy Saxon witch!" the girl spat. "That ugly, dirty-"

Something snapped inside Lancelot's head. Before she had finished her sentence he had pinned her against the wall, their faces only inches apart.

"Watch your mouth, girl," he hissed, trying to control his anger. "I might not be the one to cut out your tongue, but I will not hold her back if she does."

The blonde girl looked frightened for a second, then a smirk appeared on her bloody face.

"Would you look at that," she sneered. "The mighty Lancelot has fallen for the ugly Saxon girl. Who would have thought?"

Lancelot pressed her harder against the wall, their faces now only an inch apart.

"Careful," he hissed. "My patience is limited."

At that moment he heard quiet footsteps behind him. Looking around, he saw Aethelinda stand there. The moon light illuminated her pale face, her huge eyes were shining.

"Oh," she said, taking a step back. "I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" she looked at Lancelot for another moment, then she turned on her heel and walked away swiftly.

"And there she goes, leaving the lonely knight," the blonde girl whispered.

Normally Lancelot would have snapped at that comment, but he hadn't even heard her.

At the moment Aethelinda had appeared in the moonlight, it had hit him with such a force, he had trouble not to stumble.

Gawain had been right.

The blonde girl had been right.

They all had been.

He was falling for Aethelinda. It wasn't anything he'd ever known before and he didn't know what to do. But one thing he did know. He could not let her get away.

"Are you going to press me against this wall all night?" the girl asked.

"No," Lancelot said and let go off her. At that moment raindrops started to fall from the dark sky.

He couldn't let her get away.

"Aethelinda," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else and he turned on his heels and started to run into the direction she had vanished.

The rain was falling harder every second, drenching him to skin as he ran through the streets.

"Aethelinda!" he yelled, looking around frantically. "Aethelinda!"

Thunder was roaring over his head and a lightening illuminated his surroundings. And in this light he saw her walking down a narrow street away from him.

He darted after her, mud splashing into every direction.

He reached out and took hold of her arm. Aethelinda jumped in shock and whirled around. Her expression changed from shocked to defensive.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice cool. "Why aren't you with your blonde friend?"

"What?" Lancelot asked, taken aback by the question.

"Oh, don't be like that, Lancelot," Aethelinda scoffed, frowning. "Don't play the innocent now. It's alright, I understand. What was I even thinking? I wasn't thinking, that's it. I'm sorry I disturbed you," she said and turned around again to walk away.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

And Lancelot was desperate.

He tugged at the slender wrist he was still holding, yanking her around. Before she had anytime to protest, he kissed her.

It wasn't like anything he'd ever experienced before. Thousands of lightening bolts exploded in front of his eyes, his heart was pounding against his ribs and he felt like he was floating.

They broke apart and Aethelinda looked at him with a dreamy but wary expression in her eyes. He leaned forward to kiss her again but she jerked back.

"Do you mean it?" she asked. He halted.

"Do you mean it, or is this a game?" she asked softly, the rain running down her face.

Lancelot looked at her. And for the first time, he could every single emotion in her eyes.

He could see the fear, the apprehension, the doubt, the need, the hope, the…

"Do you mean it?" she asked again.

"I do," he said. She took a deep breath, but then she shook her head.

"How can I know you're telling the truth?" she asked.

"By trusting me," he said, taking her face into his hands, brushing a raindrop from her cheek, as he looked into her eyes, willing her to see that he was honest, that she had no reason to be afraid. She stared back at him.

"Do you trust me?" he asked quietly, just loud enough to be heard over the pounding over the rain. She looked at him for another moment, then slowly, she nodded.

Lancelot felt like a huge weight had been lifted off him and he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

He smiled at her and she smiled back hesitantly at first, then her smile became wider until her whole face seemed to glow. She was so beautiful, so true, so real Lancelot felt dizzy with joy.

Slowly he bent down and kissed her again, burying his hands in her wet hair.

He wished it would never stop.

He wished that that moment would never seize.

He wished he could stay right there forever.

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! Fiiiiiiinally! It was about time, really. After 11 chapters of pretty much non fluff, this just had to happen, I had to catch the interest of you romance suckers out there lol. Hope it's not too cheesy, just felt right at that moment.

Please review, people!