Disclaimer: I own nothing related to King Arthur.

She had tried valiantly to stay awake until the knights returned, eager to hear any news regarding the Woads, but eventually the alcohol had prevailed and Breck fell asleep after lying in bed for only a mere twenty minutes. Breck lay in bed now, suffering from another delightful hangover, and threw her arm over her eyes to block out the offending sunlight. If she hadn't been awoken by Galahad's obnoxious snores on the other side of her wall, she might have been more concerned for the safety of the knights. But since she assumed they had all made it back safe and sound, she allowed herself another half hour of relaxation in her bed before finally dragging herself up to get dressed, grabbing her bow and arrows, and then heading to the tavern for breakfast.

The townsfolk seemed to be going about their daily lives as usual. As far as Breck could tell, nothing, not even a chicken, was out of place as she walked through the streets and it was almost like the Woads had never come in the first place. So why had the Woads come into the fort? It was obvious they had not come with the intent of attacking; otherwise at least something would be in shambles by now. They had come in the nighttime, which made it a highly unlikely possibility that they had come to meet with anyone of importance, like Arthur. The only plausible explanation was that they had come looking for her but had obviously been intercepted before she could be reached.

Just like yesterday, the moment she stepped into the tavern she was swarmed with hugs and cries of excitement. Her hangover restricted her from registering who had hugged her and why the people attaching themselves to her hips and legs were so small, but she quickly discerned that it was just Vanora and Bors' gang of children. She laughed as happily as her hangover would permit and patted the children's heads in greeting.

"We are glad you have returned!"

"Did you kill Woads?"

"Where did ya go?"

Breck grimaced against the rapid firing of questions and tried to disentangle herself from them as gently as she could. "Children, children…" Breck began to plead with them as she attempted to shuffle her way to the bar. "Allow me a moment of peace, I beg you."

"Kids!" Vanora snapped loudly, making Breck wince at the volume of it. The children scrambled away from her though and Breck cast her a grateful look. "More stew?"

"Aye, is my unwilling answer." Breck sighed, massaging her temples with her fingertips. She glanced back to see where the children had gone and spotted them surrounding a tired and hungover looking Bors. She sympathized with the man as he braced himself against the onslaught of his children and then turned to face Vanora again.

Vanora bowled a bit of the stew for her, threw a piece of bread on top of it, and then pushed the bowl in Breck's direction. Breck knew what to expect from the offensive meal but it did not make the bitterness of it any less unpleasant as she dug in. "I must confess…" Vanora trailed off with a wide grin, waiting for Breck to look up at her. "You and Tristan present a fine pair."

Breck shook her head in amusement and couldn't help the small smile. Vanora, the gossip…"Were you spying?" Breck asked accusingly, shooting the woman a playful glare.

"Observing." Vanora corrected haughtily. "It was impossible not to – I could feel the heat between the pair of you all the way from here." She said dramatically, fanning herself off with her hand.

"Hush." Breck hissed at her with a blush, making the woman laugh mischievously.

Vanora leaned in closer and grabbed one of Breck's hands, squeezing it excitedly as she dropped her voice to a whisper. "He is your man now?"

"Perhaps…" Breck answered with a shrug. "That remains to be seen."

Vanora scoffed but couldn't hide the pleased look in her eyes. "I should think it obvious."

Their conversation was beginning to draw attention to them and Breck decided to change the subject, not wanting her and Tristan's business to be the topic of the day. "What of the Woads? Did Bors speak of it?" Breck asked finishing her meal with a cringe on her face and then grabbing for the cup of water Vanora had just passed to her.

"Long gone, according to him. They never even spotted them." Vanora answered with a roll of her eyes. "Blasted Woads…why come here if not to attack? They are bewildering and irritating." She complained, her voice rising in her indignation.

"And it is far too early for shouting." Breck said, muffling her ears. "You are sure you are not with child?" She asked unsurely, eyeing the woman's belly again. With the way the woman's moods had been swinging so rapidly these past two days, it would not be a big surprise.

Vanora pointed at her threateningly without saying a word before wagging it at her and going to help another customer. Breck pushed away her bowl, sighing in relief when the nausea started to leave her stomach, and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She dropped a few coins on the bar and then went over to the table that Bors and the children were occupying – Bors still looked worse for wear and his children didn't appear to be helping his condition. Breck grinned and begun shushing the children, weaving through them to get to Bors.

"How are you?" Breck asked, leaning against the table next to him.

"Ugh." Was his response. Apparently, the combination of alcohol and Woad hunting was not a pleasant one, if his current state was anything to judge by.

"The stew will ease your suffering." She instructed him.

"S' vile…" He grumbled in protest.

Breck laughed and shook her head. "But worth the pain." Then she nudged him, to get his attention. "Where were the Woads spotted?"

"The east tree-line." He answered blearily. "But you did not hear it from me." He concluded before pushing her away from him, wordlessly telling her to leave him alone.

She took the hint and decided to let the poor man suffer in peace. "Thank you, Bors. Enjoy the day." Breck said with a pat to his back. Then she bid goodbye to the children and stepped up to the bar one last time. "Vanora, if Tristan comes searching for me might you inform him I went to the arena?" She asked.

When the woman nodded that she would, Breck waved to her and turned to leave. It was a relief to feel her hangover taking its leave so that she could go about her day as planned. Breck had every intention of getting in some practice at the arena, but first she wanted to search around a bit to see if the Woads had left any sort of message for her to find.

She was almost to the door when it swung open, the sounds of raucous laughter coming in with it in high pitched tones and gathering the attention of most of the tavern. Breck cringed when she realized it was the wenches that loved to hate her and squared her shoulders as went to walk past them. As luck would have it, the one wench that seemed to be fighting her for Tristan's attention was standing near the rear of the group and placed her hands on her hips as Breck approached.

"Well, well…the Celtic whore in the flesh." She said snootily.

Breck came to a halt next to her and quirked an eyebrow, watching the woman steadily as she sized her up. "Whore?" She asked calmly. "Have I earned this name?" She questioned further with a curious look on her face, preparing herself for the onslaught of insults surely intended for her.

"Do not act innocent." The woman said snidely. "The whole of the town is aware of your promiscuity. First Arthur, then Gawain, now Tristan?" She listed off in a crude manner. Breck would have been more angered by her words if the rumors she spouted out had any semblance of truth to them. But since they did not, Breck only smiled at her in amusement as she ranted. "Who next? Lancelot? He should be easy to obtain."

Breck nodded and shot her a sarcastic smile. "It appears you have me figured out…" She paused, trying to think if she had ever heard the woman's name before, and then shrugged. "Forgive me, I do not recall your name. Should I refer to you as, 'whore'?" She asked in mocking confusion.

The woman's eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms, looking Breck up and down. "I've no idea what draws him to the likes of you." She spat.

Breck, on the other hand, smiled sweetly. "I suppose you would not." She shot at her. "I know precisely what he saw in you though, along with every other man that crosses your path – easy catch." The woman spluttered angrily at Breck's words so the Celt, feeling pretty triumphant, waved to her dismissively and then went past her to leave.

"Remember, this is your man we speak of. I've had him – have you?" The wench shot at her.

Breck's patience was really beginning to wear thin now. It didn't help that she already detested the pest of a woman, but if she was going to start saying negative things about Tristan or her relationship with him, things were going to get bad quickly. The wench was dangerously close to crossing the line and if she didn't stop talking soon, Breck was going to force her.

"I could give you advice if you wish." She called to Breck's back. "Educate you on what he likes?" She offered with a cackle. "That way you will not sorely disapp – "

Her insult was cut off abruptly when Breck turned on her heel, reared her fist back, and then punched her directly in the nose. Pain flared up in her hand upon contact, but even as she tried to shake the pain out of her hand she couldn't suppress the sense of accomplishment that she felt in that moment – the irritating wench was rolling back and forth on the ground and clutching her bloodied nose while she sobbed, her friends coming to her rescue immediately.

Breck looked around to see that most of the tavern was watching her with gaping mouths. Most of the expressions were that of confusion but a few were nodding in approval. Breck shrugged at Vanora's amused look, glanced one last time at the woman she'd just hit and then turned to leave without another word. There would probably be a new bout of rumors going through the town after that but if the punch had taught the wench her lesson, Breck would gladly welcome it.

The search in the tree-line proved to be unsuccessful. There was no hope of following any Woad tracks since the knights' horses had completely trampled the area and as far as she could tell, there had been no messages or notes left anywhere amongst the foliage. Yet regardless of the fact that she was left clueless about their reason for trespassing, Breck knew she would need to go and speak with Merlin. The real dilemma was finding a way north of the wall again. Arthur had been unable to stop her once but she highly suspected that she would not have the same luck a second time.

The arena was deserted when Breck arrived, much to her delight, and she immediately headed over to the archery targets. She had allowed herself a day of relaxation and recuperation the previous day but now it was time to focus again and resume her business. She needed to keep her skills sharp and be completely ready to face the army that approached, especially if she and Arthur would not have very many allies on their side.

While she began firing arrow after arrow into the targets, her mind turned to Cerdic. How would she go about killing him? Breck had attempted to sneak past his soldiers before and it had only ever resulted in stirring up a commotion. Perhaps, she wondered as she pictured Cerdic's face in the middle of one of the targets, she could challenge him? She launched the arrow into the imaginary face and then frowned. Who was to say that the Saxons would not just kill her should she prevail against their leader? She would have the support of Arthur and (more then likely) the knights behind her, but could the eight of them and a small group of Roman infantry take on the massive Saxon army? Cynric would no doubt be fighting along his father and Breck frowned before picturing his face next and releasing an arrow into his forehead. He would have to be dealt with as well – if he gained control of the army, they would be even more barbaric under his rule.

There were no two ways about it; whether the Woads sided with Arthur or not they had to fight. If they didn't, Briton was going to belong to the Saxons. It was unlikely that the Woads wouldn't want to fight for their land but she made a mental note to bring up the subject when she went to see Merlin anyway. She hoped she hadn't put too much faith in the strange natives and that they would still allow her to pass through the forest freely – it would be an awful shame to have come this far only to be killed when she was so close to her goal.

Breck notched another arrow and buried it into the center of the target in front of her, releasing a heave. Everything would be alright; she just had to keep reminding herself that. Despite most of her success coming with a price, God hadn't led her astray yet and she had been lucky thus far with how everything was falling into place. The Woads would fight and she and Arthur, along with Sarmatians, had enough skill on their side to take on the Saxons. We shall prevail, Breck reminded herself.

She had just readied another arrow when a voice interrupted her. "Eventful morning?"

Breck froze and suppressed the urge to grin, glancing at Tristan over her shoulder before burying the arrow into its target. "No busier then normal." She responded as she lowered her weapon and turned to face him, all thoughts of the Saxons getting pushed to the side of the moment. "Why do you ask?"

Tristan only gave her a disbelieving, albeit slightly amused look. A look that said, 'You know exactly what I speak of'.

"She earned it." Breck said defensively. "The woman has been a thorn in my side for ages."

"I have come to realize." Tristan responded dryly, making her narrow her eyes at him as if to say 'this is your fault'. His eyes glanced over to her right hand and she tried to hide the bruising that was appearing on her knuckles, but he had had already seen them. "Your hand?" He asked, stepping forward and holding a hand out to her expectantly. With a roll of her eyes she placed her hand in Tristan's and let him poke and prod at it in inspection. "You must be careful with your hands." Tristan chastised.

"My hands are perfectly fine." She grumbled, pulling her hand out of his grasp. "Tis only a bruise."

Tristan nodded, though he didn't look convinced, and watched her as she fired two more arrows into the targets. "How did she come to earn your punch?" He finally asked.

Breck lowered her bow again and turned to face him. "She spoke crude words against the both of us." She revealed. "It angered me. So…you are welcome for defending your reputation." Breck finished with a huff, watching a smirk appear in the corner of his mouth. "And you are also welcome for my saving of your bird, furthermore." She added as an afterthought. "Had I not vouched for it, your pet would have made a delicious meal for the Woads."

She didn't realize how much information she had just given away to Tristan until his eyes narrowed searchingly at her, a look of interest on his face now. She knew she had said too much and it had piqued his curiosity. "There is a secret you keep from me…what is it?" He asked slowly.

Breck pursed her lips and began fiddling with her bow, feigning interest in the weapon. "Nothing you need concern yourself with." She said slowly, meeting his gaze hesitantly. He didn't look pleased with her response.

"Breck…" If Tristan kept saying her name like that, her heart was going to stop beating all together. "I am no fool. And I saw how Arthur reacted to your words about the Woads." Damn him, he was perceptive. "What transpired between you and the Woads?"

Breck chewed on her lip for a moment, contemplating if she should tell him or not, before finally letting out a long breath. "Upon surviving one of their attacks Merlin saw fit to seek me out. He only allowed my survival if I agreed to exchange information with him."

"You bartered with Merlin?" Tristan asked in obvious surprise.

"Aye." She confirmed. "He granted me free passage through their lands in exchange for information." She explained. "I believe the Woads came into the town in search of me last night, which is why I wished to join you so that I may speak with them."

"Your trust of the Woads is disturbing." Tristan said in blatant disapproval. "Why would they feel need to contact you again?"

Breck sighed and rubbed her forehead. How could she tell him about her request of the Woads without also divulging him news of the Saxons? And how in the world was she supposed to explain to him that the Saxons were coming to try and burn down the very place Tristan had defended for the past fifteen years? The land itself meant nothing to him but his sacrifice surely did. Did Breck really want to be the one that told him it might have all been for nothing?

"I wish to tell you." Breck finally said slowly before an idea popped into her mind. "I will go to speak with Merlin again soon – join me and all will be explained then, I promise you."

Tristan shook his head at her words. "You wish me to venture with you into Woad territory?" He asked disbelievingly.

"Aye." She answered with a nod.

"Have you any idea how many Woads I have killed?" He asked her next.

"Aye, well…" Breck hadn't considered the fact that the Woads probably knew who Tristan was and most likely did not like him very much. "I believe the Woads trust me to an extent. If you are with me they will not harm you." She said, trying to sound confident.

"Your insanity will bring death upon me some day." Tristan mused before sighing heavily. "I will join you." He conceded, though he didn't look thrilled to be agreeing to it. "If only to ensure you survive the Woads a second time."

"Third time, in actuality." Breck said smugly.

Tristan shot her a disapproving look and shook his head. "Arthur knows you have dealings with Woads?"

Breck cringed and nodded. "In the past, aye. Presently…?" She trailed off, looking at him with a bit of a guilty expression.

Tristan quirked a brow at her. "I will say nothing." He said, letting her know he'd deciphered the meaning of her words.

Breck held her right hand out to him, intending to shake on the deal, but the move caught Tristan's attention for a different reason. He frowned and then stepped closer to her, grasping her hand and then tuning it over to inspect the long oath-scar that stretched across her palm. His proximity mixed with his touch brought forth the same feelings from the previous night and she took a calming breath as she watched him closely, reminding herself that it was not appropriate to pounce on him.

"Self inflicted." She informed him as steadily as she could, suppressing a shiver of delight when his finger trailed along the length of the long-healed gash.

The look on Tristan's face when his gaze met hers again made her believe he wanted to question her further on the scar, but he seemed to realize just how close they actually were at the same time that she did. His eyes dropped down to her lips, the question in gaze changing to something she couldn't quite place her finger on, and then he used his hold on her hand to pull her closer to him. He tilted her chin up with the knuckle of his index finger and Breck was unable help the smile that stretched across her face as he finally leaned down to kiss her.

If Breck had still had any doubts over the way Tristan felt for her, they would have been obliterated in that very moment. It was impossible to mistake the hunger behind his kiss or feel how possessively his hands held her to him. His touch sent lighting right into her nerves and Breck wrapped her arms around his neck in an attempt to stay upright as her lips moved with his. The sigh that escaped him when her fingers found their way into his hair warmed her heart and it was in that juncture of time that she knew Tristan had ruined all other men for her. This annoying, handsome, insufferable, incredible man would be the only one she would ever want.

I love him.

Breck pulled away from the kiss, both out of need for air and out of surprise at having admitted to herself that, yes, was in love with Tristan. Her mother had always told her that she would know when her heart had chosen someone and, God rest her, she was correct. Tristan lowered his forehead to rest against hers, keeping her close with his hands on her waist and she couldn't help but smile up at him and toy with one of his braids. "I certainly hope you did not kiss Galahad like that…" She teased, brushing her fingers along his bearded cheek for a moment.

"You speak too much." Tristan growled before kissing her again to silence the protest about to leave her lips. When he pulled away a few moments later, Tristan gazed at her steadily then smoothed some of her hair back from her face. "Do not waste your fists on the women here – you have no competition." He informed with a smirk, pressing a short kiss to her lips before stepping away from her all together.

Breck could hardly contain her grin. Tristan was a man of few words but when he spoke, his words usually held a purpose to them. Even if he hadn't professed his undying love, his words just now had told her everything she needed to know – she was the only one Tristan cared about. Then she realized that he was walking away from her, again, and frowned. "Where do you go?" She called after him.

Tristan paused and turned to face her again. "To fetch Dagonet." He said simply. She must have looked confused because he smirked and explained himself. "You need to train against a man of Cerdic's size and he agreed to be your sparring partner."

Breck pursed her lips, still a bit confused by his sudden shift into his instructor role. "But…now?" She asked incredulously. After a mind-numbing kiss and confession of feelings, the first thing he thought of was Dagonet?

"Yes, now." Tristan said sternly. "We still have matters to tend to – unless you do not wish to defeat Cerdic?"

Breck scoffed at him and crossed her arms. "Of course I wish to defeat Cerdic." She said snootily.

"Good." He said, obviously amused with the way she was acting. She was trying very hard to glare at him, but seeing as he had just confessed his feelings for her, she was finding it difficult. "Begin warming up. I shall return shortly." He said as he turned to leave, but not before giving her a long once-over with his eyes that left her nerves feeling tingly again.

Breck watched him go and shook her head in wonder at the amount of mood changes he brought within her. She loved that man, but by God he was going to be the death of her some day.

A/N: So Breck punches someone in the face and then…

Fluff balls of love! Here's a fluff ball for you, and a fluff ball for you, oh! And you in the back! Here's a fluff ball. Fluff balls for everyone!