Disclaimer: The usual….

Thanks ever so much to Azure83, Jen, Brandibuckeye, Kris89 and xXRoweenaJAugustineXx for your wonderful reviews. And as always thanks to those who read and mark this story in their favs! It is much appreciated.

This chapter takes place one month after chapter 20. The scout, his woman and child are enjoying a day of rest and time alone.

Iwain- (young warrior) he was a knight

Chapter 21: All is as it should be

"Papa," Rowan called out as she ran after the Scout as fast as her young legs could carry her. "Papa, wait for me please."

The girl ran through the open field carrying a leather pouch that was draped across her shoulder. In her hand she carried a bow and strapped to her back was a quiver of arrows. The grass of the field nearly came to her waist it was so high. Tristan stopped, knelt down, and braced his elbows on his knees. He waited for the young girl to catch up to him. His bow in hand and arrows in a quiver strapped to his back, he closed his eyes and listened. When finally she had approached close enough to him he turned his head and motioned for her to be quiet with his outstretched hand. She slowed down, crouching as she neared him. His long index finger pressed firmly against his lips. Rowan quietly made her way to his left side.

"There just to the left of your shoulder," he whispered as he leaned down near her head. Their shaggy braided locks tussled in the breeze. "Close your eyes Rowan, and breathe deep. Smell your prey, feel its presence and know where it is." He continued in his tutoring of the girl's hunting.

She did as she was instructed; clenching her eyes shut as tight as she could, leaned her head back so she might inhale some scent and tilted her head to the side to hear any sound.

He looked down at his daughter and smiled proudly.

"Ready your bow child," he quietly said as he helped the girl who was now braced between his legs. "Steady your aim Rowan." He said firmly. "Remember Rowan, aim for the middle." He continued as he pointed his hand outward toward their prey. "That's a good girl." He encouraged her.

Rowan stretched the bow string back as far as she could. Tristan adjusted her arm to move up and back just a bit.

"Like this papa," she inquired.

"Yes daughter, like that," he said with a smile as he placed his hands on her hips and pivoted her to the left ever slightly. "Easy…..wait till you are sure you have a good line of sight."

"How will I know," she asked.

"Trust your instincts Rowan," he said. "You will know when the time is right."

Tristan slowly stood up standing just behind her then took several paces back. Quietly he reached down and picked up a stone.

"Ready," he asked.

"Yes, papa," she answered her knees began to knock with exceitment.

"On the count of three," he said. "One….two…three." With that he aimed the stone and flung it so it landed several yards away, startling a flock of pheasants into taking flight.

"Wait, until they are in mid air," he said standing behind Rowan. "Now!" He stated.

Rowan moved her bow skyward and closed one eye.

"Aim for the middle….aim for the middle," she repeated quietly to herself as she released the arrow.

The arrow shot clean flying through the air with a whistle and hit its target. Her eyes widen as the fowl fell to the ground.

"I DID IT PAPA…I DID IT," she shouted and danced around the Scout, tapping him with her hand.

"You did! Well done Rowan," he said gleefully as he hoisted the girl into his arms, spinning her round and round. The air filled with her delightful giggles. "You are becoming a fine hunter." He stated proudly.

"Màthair shall be so proud of me will she not papa," she said as her arms wrapped around his neck, squeezing as tightly as she could.

"Indeed she shall," he said wrapping his arms around her. "Now, let us collect your prize."

He placed her down and took her hand within his own. Together they made their way toward the fallen bird.

"Did you see it papa, I shot straight like you told me. I aimed for the middle and it worked! It did papa," the child rambled as her hand squeezed his tightly. "Did you not see it? Just like one of yours. I am as good a bowmen as you papa am I not? I shot it dead from the sky. We shall feast tonight on pheasant. We shall feast like a king and his queens, we shall wont we papa?" Her face beamed with pride.

"We shall, like royalty," he said as he smiled proudly at his daughter. "Like royalty."

"You are a king papa," the young said looking up into his eyes.

"No Rowan I am not, I am but a slave," he said with some bit of sadness. His hand braced on her shoulder he smiled slightly.

"Not in our home you are no slave papa," she said adamantly as she grabbed tightly around his right leg, bracing her face in his waist. She looked up at him again. "You are king in our home, màthair is the queen, I am the princess and Iwain shall be the baby prince."

"He shall, shall he," he chuckled with amazument. "So this is the name you give your baby brother is it Iwain?"

"Aye, Iwain," she said. "He was knight. Dag told me so."

"Yes, he was," Tristan said as he placed his hand on top of her head and stroked her hair putting it in its proper place. "And he was a great knight indeed."

"Dag said that you and he were great friends from the very beginning," she said messing her hair up as her nose crinkled. She did not like her hair all prime and proper to her mother's dismay. She insisted that her be braided in the same spots as Tristan's.

Tristan chuckled as he reached down and lifted the pheasant from the ground. He pulled Rowan's arrow from its dead body. He wiped the arrow on his trouser leg and placed it back into Rowan's quiver. Smiling at the girl he held the fowl out for her to examine.

"Look there, a good clean shot Rowan," he stated proudly. "Well done."

He took the pheasant by the neck in the same hand that he held his bow in he began to walk toward the woods. Rowan ran after him, taking hold of his hand as they continued on their journey.

After a few moments of quiet reflection the Scout spoke.

"We were good friends, Iwain and I," he said quietly. "Good friends indeed. We met on the journey from Sarmatia and made a connection. I would say he was my best friends."

"Is it good than we name the bairn after him," she asked.

Tristan looked to the sky, his lips messed together before releasing a deep sigh.

"Yes, it is a good thing. Thank you Rowan," he said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him.

Rowan took off running toward the stream's edge.

"Màthair…. Màthair….I did it," she shouted joyfully.

When she arrived at the spot where her mother lay basking in the warm sun on a pallet of furs and blankets, her head resting on Tristan's saddle. Rowan leaped in midair and landed just beside her. Fiona smiled as her child embraced her tightly. Rowan sat up so she was braced on her legs, ankles crossed. She took her hand and began rubbing her mother protruding belly. Fiona caressed her arm then attempted to fix her daughter's hair. The girl made a grumbled expression of disapproval and messed her hair back up. Fiona let out a loud laugh just as Tristan appeared. He hoisted the pheasant in the air and smiled, his chest beaming with pride.

"See màthair, I killed that," she said with great excitement. "We shall have a great feast tonight!"

"Rowan, you have done so well," Fiona said proudly. "You did that all by yourself did you?"

"I did," she replied. "Papa told me what to do but I shot it màthair."

"Well done my petal," Fiona said as Rowan kissed her cheek.

Tristan laid his bow and the fowl down on the ground near his saddle. He returned to the pallet and lay down on his side next to his woman. He leaned down placed his hand on her belly and brushed his lips against hers. Fiona stroked his face gently with her finger tips and gazed lovingly into her man's eyes. Tristan braced his head on his palm, his right hand caressing his unborn child and he smiled. The sun shone on him casting hues of auburn highlights in his hair. She gazed at him, at his beauty, at his strength. She smiled.

Peace and joy was theirs.

"You should have seen our daughter," he whispered. "She has become quite the skilled hunter and bowman."

"She takes after her father then," she replied tracing her finger tip over his lips.

"Yes, she does," he responded with a huge smile beaming from his lips. "So will Iwain."

"Iwain," she asked with a quizzical brow.

"Yes, Iwain that is the bairn's name màthair," Rowan giggled as she skipped around the pallet. "I thought of it. He was a knight and papa's very best friend in all the world," she continued, her arms flaying about as though she was flying in the air like a bird. "Is it not a good idea to call the bairn that màthair, do you not agree?"

Fiona looked up at Tristan and smiled. She took his longest braid within her hand and pulled him down for a kiss.

"Aye, Iwain is a lovely fine name for the bairn," she whispered as she released him from her kiss. "A fine name indeed."

Tristan lay on his back, placed his right arm under his head, crossed his legs at the ankles and took Fiona near him with his left arm.

"I am glad you agree my queen," he said with a chuckle.

"Your queen…. am I," she laughed.

"According to our daughter we are royalty," he chuckled.

"Well your majesty this queen needs to make her way back to the castle and prepare the feast," she laughed.

"Your king commands you lay in his arms woman," he growled huskily. "And MY will is law of the land, now rest wench." He groaned as he pulled her closer to him,

"As you command my lord," she chuckled rolling on her side she placed her hand on his chest. She smiled as she lay in the protection and comfort of her man's arms.

Their child moved within her belly and she smiled. The sun shone down on the pair as they lay in each other's arms, she was safe and happy, truly happy for the first time in her life.

All the world was right and as it should be.

He growled between his teeth. His eyes closed nearly shut. His fist clenched tight on the hilt of his dagger. Disgust filled his chest cavity as he watched them from high in his perch at the edge of the woods.

She lives …the witch lives! How in fucking hells did she escape? We burned her I was there I watched it burn to the ground. She truly is a witch. Midir groaned to himself. There will be hell to pay for all of us once he finds out she lives. Wait until he finds out she is with his worst enemy that godsdamn fucking animal they dare call a scout.

He climbed down from the huge tree and scurried like a rat to his horse. He quickly mounted as he rode off he looked back.

"Enjoy what little time you have ," he growled. "You will not escape him this time bitch!

To be continued…