Disclaimer: I own nothing related to King Arthur.


Kenrick roared, swishing his sword here and there, slicing limbs and heads alike. The number of Saxons that had flowed out from the surrounding forest counted to just over a dozen now and though Kenrick had received a number of wounds on his own body, it did not stop the large man from taking down opponent after opponent. It was obvious by the animalistic battle cries leaving his mouth that he was driven by rage and some of the ambushing Saxons hesitated in their attack, watching Kenrick unsurely.

Breck still sat in the wagon and stared down at the arrow in her shoulder, her small fingers wrapping around the wood protruding from her body before she gritted her teeth and slowly pulled it out. The child cried out with the pain of the speared arrow sliding from her body and it alerted Kenrick at once, making him pause just long enough to be swarmed by a number of Saxons.

"Father!" Breck screeched, her concern for him making her forget her pain as she jumped to her feet, watching as he tried valiantly to fend them off.

He was slowly gaining the upper hand again and was making his way towards her, pausing to head-butt an oncoming foe before quickly turning to his right and bringing his sword up to block the blow coming for his head. She looked around the wagon for anything, any form of weapon that she could use to help her father. Breck tried to push back the tears that came to her eyes when they glanced over the form of her mother and saw that two more arrows had imbedded themselves into her torso, ending the woman's life. Breck was reaching a hand out to her when an arm came around her neck, beginning to choke off her air supply. Her eyes bugged and she scratched viciously at the man's arms but to no avail. She was yanked backwards so her attacker could get a better grip on her and she was just beginning to see black spots when his grip slackened.

The six year old fell forward onto her hands and gulped for air, turning her head to see that her father had come to her rescue and was now fighting directly in front of the wagon, defending his family the best he could. There was no way to know if the Saxon knew what had become of his wife, but he pressed on with a vengeance regardless. Once Breck caught her breath she continued her search around the wagon until she found the quiver of arrows and her father's hunting bow on the other side of Emer. With a sob she reached over her dead mother and grabbed the weapon. She had barely begun her archery lessons and the bow was far too large for the six year old child but she managed to get a grip on it and notch a clumsy arrow, intent on doing something – anything – she could to help Kenrick.

Pulling the string back as far as she could, she watched as the arrow flew forward and caught a Saxon in the leg, stilling his movement to bring his weapon down on her father as he let out a howl of pain. Kenrick was able to turn and slide his blade clean into his stomach before yanking it back out and swinging it down on the next Saxon attacker.

"Keep shooting!" Kenrick called to her.

Breck fumbled for another arrow, blinking her tears back rapidly to try and clear her vision, before notching it and taking aim at another Saxon. She gulped, trying to steady her heaving breath and calm her shaking hands, before releasing the arrow. It barely nicked his shoulder, causing him to growl and turn in her direction. She panicked, loaded another arrow, and planned to shoot again but was shoved down to the floor of the wagon before she could, her father being the one to make sure she was out of the line of fire as two arrows went sailing overhead.

"Take it." Kenrick said, shoving the hilt of a long dagger into her hands before turning back around with a wide swing of his sword and beheading the Saxon that had come charging up...

When she opened her eyes it took a long moment for Breck to realize that, first, she was in her bed and not on that God forsaken road being swarmed by Saxons and, second, that it was the knocking on her door that had roused her from her sleep and the dream. Her heart rate began to slow as she wiped the sweat from her forehead, her mind still plagued by the harsh memories of that night, and she sat up slowly in bed to rub her eyes tiredly.

The knocking on her door continued and she finally dragged herself from her bed, fixing her shift that had become entangled around her legs like a cocoon. She was positive she had not gotten enough sleep to be fully energized and her body felt heavy and tired, both from her late night with Tristan and from the restless few hours of rest she had obtained – Breck sincerely hoped that whoever had come calling on her had a very good reason for doing so. Otherwise they were about to feel her wrath.

Devran was standing on the other side when she jerked the door open and Breck blinked at him in confusion. "Devran? Why have you come?" She asked, trying to keep the edge out of her voice.

"Jols wished me to remind that you yourself admitted to have been neglecting your duties and promised to be present in the stables this morning." He said, looking up at the sky in concentration as he recounted the message he had been sent with. "And your presence is required. Now." He finished before smiling at her.

Breck suddenly remembered the slightly inebriated promise she had made to the man a few nights ago and pinched the bridge of her nose before nodding. "Tell him I will be along shortly." She said before wordlessly closing the door in the boy's face. She might have felt guilty for her dismissal but was in far too foul of a state to care at that moment.

She rubbed her forehead with a heave and walked over to her trunk to get out a fresh set of clothes, pausing to lean against the sturdy furniture and close her eyes with a steadying breath. Dreams about the night of the Saxon ambush had been happening more frequently and she knew it was because Cerdic was so close to being within her grasp. The images she had tried to bury long ago stubbornly continued to resurface in her mind and Breck winced as she remembered the empty, lifeless stare that had replaced the usual warmth and kindness in her mother's eyes. Despite going to bed with the warm, contented feeling of being in love, now she only felt hatred and anger and cursed Cerdic loudly while she tried to push the gruesome images of her dead mother out of her mind. If her subconscious was attempting to remind her in her love-struck state that there was still business to be done, Breck had received the message clearly.

Breck finally opened her eyes once she had reigned in her emotions and yanked her trunk open, pulling out the first tunic and pair of trousers she spotted. When she pulled off her shift to dress for the day, her eyes darted down to her right shoulder where a cross-like scar resided just below her collar bone, marking the spot where the Saxon arrow had pierced her as a child. It had been her first serious wound and she ran a fingertip over it for a moment, almost positive she could still feel the pain from it even to this day. For the longest time she had hated it because of the memories it brought forth, but eventually it had grown to hold great importance – every time that she looked upon it she was reminded of the night that had forever changed the course of her life. Breck had been forced to endure things that no child should have to face, and the scar ensured that she never forgot her mission or why it was so important to see it through.

The previous night with Tristan had been a welcome distraction from all of the madness in her life but with Cerdic face floating around in her mind, she knew it was time to resume with her business as usual now. Breck didn't have much more time to train with Dagonet (the knights would be leaving to collect the Bishop in four days) and she still needed to sit Arthur down to attempt to talk sense into him regarding the Woads. A plan had to be made, they needed to prepare, and she needed to make Arthur accept that the Woads would be fighting with them whether he liked it or not.

As soon as she was dressed and her hair was braided into a hastily done plait, she was out the door and headed to stables. Unsurprisingly she had slept far into the morning after staying up late with Tristan and the town was bustling as she made her way through the throng of crowds. She waved to those who greeted her, but each smiling face only caused her to sink further and further into her foul mood. It almost felt burdensome to be one of the few who knew that the generally peaceful atmosphere of Hadrian's Wall was on the verge of being disrupted with the turmoil of war. Soon all of these people would be fleeing from the fort to escape the beast coming for them – and only she, Arthur, and now Tristan knew it.

"Should you not be working?" A voice said in her ear at the same time a person fell into step next to her.

She had been so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear him approach and she jumped about a mile into the air before swinging stunned eyes up to the amused face of Arthur. "Arthur?" She asked in surprise before punching him in the arm with a scowl. "Do you wish me dead from fright? Announce your presence." Breck grumbled grumpily.

"I was shouting your name." Arthur defended, rubbing his shoulder and giving her a disgruntled look. "Had you not been daydreaming you might have heard."

"My apologies." Breck said, glancing at the stables that they were nearing and seeing an impatient looking Jols hanging in the doorway. "What brings you here?"

"I wished to speak with you and assumed I would find you here." He said, motioning to the stables. "You are just now arriving?"

"I overslept." Breck excused with a shrug.

"Yes, well…" Arthur trailed off as his gaze dropped down to her neck and he furrowed his eyebrows in a studious manner for a moment before casting her a stern stare. Breck looked at him strangely in return, unsure why he was regarding her in such a way. "I see there is no need to question your whereabouts this night past. It appears things have...progressed with Tristan." He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Pardon?" Breck asked, quirking an eyebrow. What was he blabbering about?

Arthur pointed in the general direction of her neck knowingly, a teasing smirk just hinting at the corner of his mouth. "You pair became…better acquainted?"

Breck blushed and brought a hand up to cover her neck, realizing that Tristan's lips must have left behind a mark in their enthusiasm the previous night. She had seen them before on the men and had always thought it to be in bad taste. And since she was already in an unpleasant state that morning because of her memories, the knowledge of its presence mixed with Arthur's teasing only catered to her ill temper. "I fail to see how that is your business." She shot back at him.

Arthur ignored her biting retort and pursed his lips, now looking a little uncomfortable as he took a step closer and dropped his voice to avoid being overheard. "You…are being sensible…correct?" He asked slowly, looking like he wasn't sure if he really wanted to know the answer or not.

Breck tried gallantly to reign in her annoyance at his prying. The last thing she wanted was to stand in the middle of the fort and discuss her and Tristan's physical relationship with her life-long friend. "I am a grown woman – I may do what I please with my man." She defended haughtily. "But if you must know the status of my purity, it is still completely intact."

He seemed relieved at her words and offered her a lopsided smile, his mood shifting quickly. "He is your man now?" He questioned next, his eyebrows inching up on his forehead while he looked highly pleased with this information.

Having grown tired of his questioning and wishing to keep her and Tristan's relationship as private as she could, she rolled her eyes and shot her friend and impatient look. "Arthur, for God's sake, what is the purpose that brought you here? Speak before Jols has me strung up by my thumbs." Breck demanded, gesturing to the man that was staring her down.

"Steady now, friend." Arthur said as he held a hand up in defeat. Then he wiped the grin off his face and a more serious aura surrounded him as he changed the subject of conversation. "We have little time to devise our plan for Cerdic." He reminded her. "Will you have council with me this day?"

"Aye, I will. It was my intention to propose such an idea to you myself." Breck readily agreed. "I must fulfill my duties here and then collect Tristan - then my attention is yours."

"Tristan? He knows of the Saxons?" Arthur asked in confusion. When Breck nodded, he looked a little bemused. "What of keeping this a secret?"

Breck only shrugged at him. "Given the nature of our relationship, secrecy between us is no longer allowed." She told him. "But his knowledge brings on no changes in his course. It was never his intention to leave the Wall if I remained – his plan all along has been to assist me with Cerdic."

"I might have known." Arthur said with a shake of his head, not looking anymore thrilled then she felt with the fact that Tristan would remain at the Wall to fight. He let out a heave before waving to Jols and then pushing her in the direction of the stables. "I will keep you from your duties no longer. I shall be in the council room whenever you and Tristan are prepared to meet with me."

Breck nodded. "I shall meet with you later, then." She said, waving to him over her shoulder.

"And Breck?" He said as an afterthought. When she turned to face him, waiting to hear whatever he had to say, he offered her a genuine smile. "I am happy for you and Tristan." He said honestly. "I can think of no two others who deserve happiness more."

Though she had been in a foul mood all morning, Arthur's approval of the match made a real smile creep onto her face and Breck nodded at him in thanks. After Arthur returned the gesture, she turned to head to the stables. Jols looks like he wanted to lecture her but stopped himself when Breck shook her head and held a hand up. "Not today." She warned him, then continued inside to start her work as usual.


By the time they had finished up in the stables, Breck's stomach was growling with hunger and her body was protesting its current state of exhaustion. Even though it was only mid-afternoon she was already beginning to have longing thoughts of the bed that awaited her in her quarters and could hardly wait until the moment she could be sleeping again. Knowing that Arthur was waiting for her, Breck resisted the temptation to go and nap for a few hours and instead nicked a few apples from the horses to have a quick meal. Then she was heading out to search for Tristan.

She spotted a familiar trio as she neared the tavern and smiled to herself, walking over to them. "Good afternoon, gents." Breck said as she walked up to Lancelot, Gawain, and Galahad.

"Why there you are." Lancelot said in greeting, scooping up her hand to press a kiss to the back of it. "The prodigal Celt shows her face again." Lancelot said laying the charm on thick.

"Kiss her arse any more and your lips will freeze into a pucker." Gawain said, shoving Lancelot on the shoulder playfully and making the dark haired Sarmatian scowl. "How goes your day?"

"It goes." Breck said with a sigh. "And yours?"

"A bore." Galahad groaned, drawing out the word dramatically.

"Are you to join us for a spot of dinner?" Lancelot cut in. Then he tilted his head and studied her for a long moment, his eyebrows rising while he regarded her. "You look terrible. I believe I could break you across my knee like a twig – you need meat on your bones."

"As always, your compliments are too flattering." She grumbled sarcastically, taking a large bite of the apple and chewing obnoxiously for him to see. Lancelot pulled a face and shook his head in disapproval. His eyes dropped down to her neck a moment later and she fought the blush that threatened her cheeks, knowing he had seen the mark on her neck.

"You seem exhausted." Gawain pointed out.

"I am." Breck confirmed. She moved her braid to her left shoulder in an attempt to conceal the mark on her neck, praying that Lancelot would say nothing about it but knowing it was a fool's hope. "I did not sleep much this night past."

As if Lancelot had finally heard the cue he'd been waiting for, a lecherous grin spread across his face at the same time a devilish glint appeared in his eye. "And just why might that be?" Lancelot asked knowingly. She shot him a look that clearly told him to shut his mouth but he ignored it. "You and Tristan disappeared for a very long time. Could the reason have any involvement with this?" He asked before flicking her braid away and moving the collar of her tunic to get a better look at the mark Tristan had left on her neck. Breck immediately blushed and swatted his hand away, making the three men laugh heartily. Once he sobered up, Lancelot tsked at her teasingly. "Worry not – I do not judge."

"You cannot judge – I have witnessed you in far more scandalous conditions." Breck shot at him, shoving his shoulder.

"Jealous?" Lancelot smirked.

Breck rolled her eyes to the heavens, wondering at the man's abundance of self-confidence, and then gave him a bored look. "Excruciatingly so." She said sarcastically.

He grinned to himself despite her mocking tone. "I knew your want truly lay with me." He said knowingly.

Breck was all too aware of the fact that once Lancelot got going, it was almost impossible to stop his nonsensical blabbering. Today she simply did not have the patience or mental capacity to deal with his incessant flirting and she shot Galahad and Gawain helpless looks. It only served to make them snicker behind their fists. "Do you know Tristan's whereabouts?" She asked, changing the topic of the conversation.

"You are insatiable – now it is I who is jealous." He said with a raunchy wink. When she glared at him, highly unamused with the way he was talking to her, he finally raised his hands in defeat and nodded to her in a conceding manner. "He and Dag went to train. Start your search there."

"My thanks. We have business with Arthur so I will take my leave. Enjoy your meals." She told them in parting. After they had said their goodbyes she continued on, but paused when an idea popped into her head. "Oh, and Lancelot?" Breck called warningly as an afterthought, glancing at him over her shoulder. "Think wisely on the words you say regarding my personal affairs or Tristan shall hunt you down."

The mixed look of horror and uneasiness was the exact effect she had been hoping for had her feeling quite triumphant the entire way to the training arena. Though Breck knew that Lancelot's advances were harmless and only out of good fun, there were not many people who could get the upper hand on him in a bout of words. Breck took great pride in being one of those few and she found it incredibly satisfying to watch the silver-tongued Sarmatian squirm.

As promised, when Breck neared the training grounds she could already hear the clang of swords clashing into one another. The closer she came to the fenced in arena, the better she could make out the two figures of Tristan and Dagonet and she paused at the gate to lean against it and watch them. Whenever Dagonet was paired up with her there was usually a fair bit of taunting and exchanging of words, but as he and Tristan battled there was only silence and concentrated looks on both of their parts. The bout looked fairly intense and she watched the two skilled fighters spar with interest, her eyes drinking in their moves to try and memorize them for later use.

Clearly, Tristan had the upper hand in this bout. He moved fast, striking this way and that, and forcing Dagonet to hastily block all of his blows. Tristan dodged the bigger man when he charged him and then resumed his attack once they were facing each other again. Breck could not help but admire the seemingly effortless way that Tristan maneuvered around Dagonet, his quick and graceful movements seeming a little contradictory to the rough, powerful slashes of his blade. One would think his feet were moving to the steps of a dance rather then partaking in a battle.

Breck finally pushed through the gate when Tristan bested Dagonet, swiping the man across the arm with his blade before he pressed the metal of his sword against the healer's throat. Dagonet began grumbling as they parted, eyeing the cut that Tristan had given him, but the scout only looked at him with a smugly satisfied smirk playing at the corner of his mouth and readied his sword to start again. Breck felt her foul mood melt away the nearer she came to the man she'd parted with only some half a day ago and began to feel at ease for the first time that day just by being in his company.

"Dag, do we keep you from your priorities?" Breck called to gain their attention.

Dagonet smiled and shrugged at her, looking a bit relieved that she had interrupted their session, while Tristan dropped from his defensive stance at once and turned to face her. He did not come to kiss her or anything of the sort but he did have the tiniest of smiles hinting on his lips as she neared them and that was enough for her. She flashed him a quick smile once she came to stand in front of them before turning her attention to the healer when he spoke. "No need to worry, there are no patients. Even so I no longer work alone. Should anyone need attention, the new healer is there to help."

"A new healer?" Breck asked in surprise.

Dagonet nodded. "Seeing as we are to be released, Arthur saw fit to acquire another healer – in case my path takes me away from the Wall, I would suspect." He explained.

"Sensible." Breck admitted before turning her gaze on Tristan. "Speaking of Arthur, he has summoned us to council with him." She told him. "Can you break?"

Tristan nodded and sheathed his sword, stepping closer to her side. "We shall resume later." He said to him, leaving no room for argument. Dagonet didn't look overly thrilled with the prospect of more spars with Tristan but nodded his consent anyway.

Unlike the previous night, Breck did not loop her arm through Tristan's as they made their way through town, nor did she lean into his side like she wanted to. Enough eyes turned to them as they made their way through town with out them flamboyantly displaying their affection for everyone to see. Tristan did walk close to her, though, and she felt a pleasant warmth shoot up her arm when she felt the knuckles of his left hand brush against her right one.

"You do not look well." Tristan commented quietly.

Breck nodded. "I did not rest much, but I am better now." She said reassuringly. She felt Tristan's fingers wrap around her wrist and he discreetly pulled her to a stop, his face an unreadable mask due to their lack of privacy but his eyes expressing to her that he was not completely convinced with her answer. "I speak honestly." Breck said sincerely. "My state is only the result of a rest plagued with unfavorable dreams." She explained. "I would tell you otherwise. Do you recall my promise?"

Tristan seemed to accept her words then and nodded before releasing her as they continued walking. "I was making certain." He defended in response.

"I know." She said, offering him a grateful smile. "Tis an ailment easily solved with a good night's sleep." Breck continued on before tilting her head at him. "You train with Dagonet now?"

"To prepare myself." He answered simply.

"Aye, well, do try not to kill him. Agreed?"

Tristan nodded and his eyes turned to a group of men that were loitering around near the blacksmith's shop. His eyes narrowed at them and Breck followed his gaze, noticing that the men were now averting their gazes quickly and trying to make themselves look preoccupied. Tristan turned his eyes forward again, a self-satisfied smirk appearing on the corner of his mouth, and she nudged his side with her elbow as she rolled her eyes.

"Do not frighten the life away from them. You need only show them this atrocious mark you left upon me to prove I am yours." Breck shot at him, pointing to her neck. "Though surely accidental, I am not pleased with it." She chastised.

Tristan raised his eyebrows at her and then stepped closer, his hand grazing her back for the briefest moment as he brought his lips closer to her ear. Immediately all of her senses tuned into his every move and touch. "Accidental? You are certain?" He asked in her ear.

Breck's every temptation begged her to kiss him as memories from the night before came flooding into her mind, but instead she valiantly ignored the effect he was having on her and pushed Tristan away with a huff to continue on towards Arthur's quarters. Not that her annoyance seemed to be very convincing to him, if the amused glint she spied in his eye once he was in step with her again meant anything.

They located Arthur seated at the Round Table about fifteen minutes later, already pouring over maps and scribbling down quick words onto a piece of parchment. He looked pleased to see them when they walked through the door and immediately motioned for them to come further into the room.

"I feared you had forgotten me." Arthur said, standing to greet them. When Tristan was close enough, Arthur stuck a hand out to him. "My congratulations." He said, first and foremost. Tristan seemed caught off guard by Arthur's gesture but shook his hand regardless, nodding to his commanding officer. Arthur then took that time to point at him threateningly. "Hurt her and you shall find yourself without a head." He said in complete seriousness.

"Right." Breck interjected quickly when she saw Tristan quirk an eyebrow at Arthur, clapping her hands together to gain their attention. "To business, then?"

With that being said, everyone settled into the seats at the Round Table and Arthur began to explain the plan he had devised to Breck and Tristan. Since their numbers were small, his plan relied heavily on rigging the Wall and its surrounding fields with traps that would slow down, if not deplete, the Saxons when they attacked. The traps would most certainly end up being useful, but Breck could not overlook the fact that the plan would only prove successful if there were more numbers to back it up. She and Tristan knew they had the Woads on their side but Arthur was still none-the-wiser.

" – and any man who wishes to stay and defend his home is welcome, though it is not favorable." He finally concluded some time later. "There is always the option of calling on neighboring towns, as well. I presume the direness of this situation would procure at least some volunteers."

"Perhaps." Tristan mused as he eyed the map of traps that Arthur had made out. "Is there any chance the Saxons will sneak across the Wall to attack us from behind?"

Breck shook her head. "A small chance, if it exists at all. Cerdic prefers to make a show of his battles – he will go for dramatics, not stealth." She said with certainty. "He will come knocking down our door, I assure you this."

"Then we station archers on the Wall here to lessen their numbers as they approach," Arthur said, pointing to the main gate, "and form our ranks with the Romans to await them here." He finished, now pointing to the area riddles with traps.

"Assuming the Romans do not take their leave as well." Breck reminded him.

Arthur 'hmm'ed and eyed the map silently, a hand coming up to rub his stubble-ridden jaw as he concentrated. His eyes darted over the map a few times before he sighed and dropped his hand, tapping the table. "We need more men." He said matter-of-factly.

One glance towards Tristan let her know exactly what he was thinking at the moment; he was giving her a look that clearly said it was time to tell Arthur about the Woads. She frowned at him before looking over at Arthur, who was still pouring over the maps. "Arthur, a new development may have occurred." She started out.

Arthur looked up at her and furrowed his brows. "Development?" He asked.

Though she had previously said she would come up with an excuse for how they came to know of the Woads' involvement, Breck decided that in the end it would be better if she were truthful with him. The situation was sensitive enough without a lie adding to the tension. "Merlin has been attempting to contact me, so I went to meet with him this night past and hold council with him. He wishes to fight and offers us his numbers."

"You what?" Arthur asked sharply, staring at her disbelievingly. "You went north of the Wall? Again?"

"She was not alone." Tristan interjected. "I accompanied her."

Arthur scoffed and shook his head, his anger and annoyance obvious as he dropped his forehead into one of his hands. He took a few calming breathes before lifting his head and turning an irritated look on her. "You took one of my men knowingly into the clutches of the very people that frequently attempt to end his life?"

"I – "

"How could you be so careless?" He questioned, cutting her off. "And you know my stance on this matter with Merlin." Arthur growled. "I refuse to side with him."

"Arthur, you must see reason." Breck said firmly. "I understand your history is…complicated, but – "

"You are well aware that complicated does our history no justice." Arthur said steadily despite the fierceness in his gaze. "I specifically told you I was against a plan such as this, yet you still pursued their aid."

"The Woads offered." Breck said firmly.

"This is a betrayal I did not expect from you." Arthur continued on as though she hadn't spoken. "They killed my mother. What if I were to side with Cerdic? What then?"

Breck gave him a warning look and shook her head. "It is not the same."

"How?" He countered. "Because Merlin himself did not slay my mother? Because her death was not on a battlefield or in an ambush?" He shot at her challengingly.

His words, mixed with the fact that her parents' deaths were so fresh in her memory that particular day, made her anger spike up. Breck slammed her hands down on the table and stood to her full height, towering over Arthur since he was still seated. "When I was thirteen years old, Cerdic returned my father to me beheaded and quartered. Then he kept his head for a trophy while I had to bury each limb of my father's body." She growled at him. "His actions were purposeful – can you say the same for Merlin?"

Tristan had been so quiet during their argument that Breck had almost forgotten he was there to begin with. She wasn't reminded of his presence until Arthur opened his mouth to retort only to be cut off by Tristan as he stood. "Arthur, let us speak privately." He suggested.

Breck held her tongue, her and Arthur staring each other down, until the half-Roman finally nodded his consent. Tristan grasped her gently by the arm and pulled her away from the table, his free hand coming to rest on her back as he guided her to the door. Despite her lingering anger, Breck was beginning to feel guilt creeping in for the way she had handled their argument and heaved to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose tiredly. Tristan stopped at the door and opened it for her, nodding into the hallway.

"Wait here, I will speak with him." He urged.

Breck merely nodded and then stepped into the hallway, not even bothering to turn around as the door shut behind her. She thought about taking a seat on the bench that was propped against the wall but ended up pacing the short width of the hallway instead, her arms crossed over her chest as she replayed her argument with Arthur in her head.

Arguing with him was nothing new but it was the last thing they needed at that moment – they had an army to defeat and it would do them no good if they were at each other's throats. His reaction to her news was exactly as she had predicted but she had not expected him to throw her parents' deaths back in her face. Breck supposed she had provoked him to do so, but it didn't lessen the hurt any. In no way had she been trying to demean Arthur's loss; she was merely trying to see the bigger picture. She felt like perhaps there was more to learn regarding the death of Arthur's mother and she only wished for him to know all of the facts before continuing his vendetta against the Woads.

She sighed and shook her head, leaning against the wall as she waited. Who was she trying to fool? Breck knew that if the roles were reversed that she would have held the same stance that Arthur currently did. But the damage had been done and the Woads had allied with her. And though she knew it a selfish move, the numbers the Woads possessed were too beneficial to turn them away now. She would just have to spend the rest of her days trying to make Arthur forgive her.

Some ten minutes later the doors opened again to signal Tristan's return. He closed the door behind him but she moved to head back into the room regardless, intent on apologizing to her friend. Breck only made it a few steps towards the door before Tristan looped an arm around her waist to stop her, shaking his head her turned her to face him instead.

"Give him time." He suggested. "He is angry, but I believe I have made him see some reason."

Breck nodded with a heavy sigh. The question in his gaze was obvious and she was almost afraid to learn what he thought of her and her decision just then. "Did I make the right decision?" Breck asked him quietly.

"As a warrior? Yes. As a friend? Perhaps not." Tristan said honestly. "But your honesty with him may save you yet." He added, sounding pleased that she had not lied to Arthur about their meeting with Merlin.

"I am selfish." She said, disgusted with herself.

"You are human." Tristan corrected. Silence feel between them for a moment as he studied her and the look on his face was hard to read, but she was sure she knew what was on his mind – the information he'd heard regarding her past was something he had not previously known about and something Breck had planned to tell him in her own time. "The recounts that were just told – they are true?" He finally asked.

Breck only nodded in confirmation. Tristan wordlessly brought a hand up to rest on the side of her neck, his eyes searching hers until she could see the sympathy in his gaze. In the next moment he leaned down so that he could kiss her forehead and she knew it was his way of telling her he was sorry for the things that she had been through. Breck placed her hand on his side, pulling herself closer to him and accepting his gesture as she took a calming breath.

When he pulled back to meet her eyes again, the sympathy that had been present was now replaced with a renewed determination. "If it is the last thing I do, Cerdic will die." He said firmly. "I swear it to you.

Breck nodded and they only stared at each other for another moment before Tristan was grasping her hand in his to lead her away from the council room. His determination was endearing and the fierceness behind his words let her know he meant what he had said. He wanted to fight Cerdic, that much was obvious. And if it had been anyone else in her position, they would have felt hope at hearing the words of the skilled fighter. But instead Breck tightened her hold on his hand as uneasiness filled her stomach.

Try as she might, she could not overlook the sense of foreboding that began to plague her at hearing his promise.


A/N: Wowza, this chapter ended up being much longer then I thought. And I cut it down, too! Sheesh.

Anyway, everyone still hanging in with me here? Oh, and when I say six or seven chapters, that's just a minimum. I'm trying to keep the story under forty chapters, so we'll see what happens.

Next chapter starts the movie!