Pfff… And you all thought I'd kill Tristan. NEVER! Never I say! I'm actually going to make my next story a… well you'll all see. As hint, I'll say this. Of the two chicas, only one with end up with Tristan….Mua-mua-muahahahahha!

OMG FREAKIN GOD! Wowwww the most amazing thing just happened… I freakin found my old story! On our second computer! Well the problem is since I wrote parts on one computer and other parts on this computer, only half the chapters were on the other computer. The other half(on this computer) got deleted when we were cleaning out all the files and crap to make the computer run faster. Confused? Me too. Anyways, I can post the chapter I have(prob. not much fun just to read random chapters like 1…4..6…9..11..), or I can just not post the story at all. Or if you really beg me, I can go in and rewrite the missing chapters. You'd have to give me a week or two to get back into her character and the story and everything, but I just might be able to pull it off! Anyways, just letting yall know


I wandered away from the knights into the smoke. The field was littered with bodies and I peered at their faces with simple interest. I blinked my eyes to search for tears, but I found none. Nor did my throat feel thick… I felt deep sorrow…It was like a hollow ache in my chest. I found myself meandering towards the tree line. Woads were being bandaged everywhere. Young men and women, even children were scurrying around handing out ointments and bandages. I heard screams from the people who would have lost limbs and such to this battle. I saw two familiar faces. Kaherdin and Modron. I made my way over to the two siblings who were kneeling at a body. Gwyar, with a deep wound to her chest, lay in front of them. I doubted Yseult knew yet.

"Hello Isolde." Modron said without looking up. They were in the armor of their people and they were streaked with woad and blood. I sat down on the ground near them out of respect.

"I am sorry." I said quietly. Modron turned around softly to face me. She nodded and looked over to a shadowy space between the trees. She silently held a hand out and beckoned towards the area. I watched, fascinated, as a small boy stepped forward out of the darkness. His somewhat oversized dark green tunic made him look even smaller than he really was. I gathered that he was around five.

"This is Isolde." Modron said in my tongue as the boy threaded a small brown hand in her hair. He peered at me with large dark eyes. He was her son I realized. His eyes were the same wide shape and his mouth was small and pert like hers. As dark as his eyes were, they were not the same blue. They were blue yes, but there was a cloud of green in them. Modron gently pushed away some of the dark, wavy hair away from his face. Kaherdin was still praying over his mother. "This is my son, Mordred."

I was surprised when the child walked forward and touched my face.

"Isolde." He said and sat by me. I looked at this unusual child and was struck by a feeling I couldn't place. There was something familiar about him…

"Who is his father?" I asked while the boy and I stared at each other. Modron looked at her son with a strange expression and didn't answer.

"Your sister Galina; I saw her fall." Arthur's niece said plainly. I nodded. I felt at ease with this woman, more at ease than I had with anyone for a long time. We were very close in age, but there was something more there…

"She was not my sister." I said as Mordred wiped something off my face.

"You're bleeding." He said looking me straight in the eyes. I remembered the wound to my stomach and shifted slightly. The blood had dried and I felt the sting as air hit the wound again. Modron stood up and motioned for me to follow. Mordred slipped his tiny hand into mine and we followed his mother through the trees. She stopped once we reached a small stream and Mordred handed her a small roll of leather.

"Lie down." She commanded as she unfolded the leather. I obeyed and watched her take out a bone needle and thread. Mordred sat next to me and perched his head on his palms. I couldn't muster the energy to wince as she scrubbed at my stomach.

"I saw you fight from the trees." The boy stated somberly. I smiled at him as Modron began stitching the skin. "You nearly killed the Saxon king."

"Almost…" I said thinking of how close Tristan had come to death.

"Then Yseult helped him get away." Mordred said.

"Yseult does not mean to be so rude." Kaherdin said as he sat down at the edge of the stream. "Mother and father trained Modron to rule our land and me to head our war party. They found no need to discipline Yseult."

"She's spoiled and self-righteous." Modron said flatly as she finished with the stitch. Kaherdin smiled as he trailed his fingers in the water. "She was quite taken with your scout…"

I raised an eyebrow and snorted.

"Really? I thought she was going to try and slap him or something…" I drawled. Mordred traced the tattoo on my neck repeatedly. He paused and looked into my eyes as if he knew something I did not.

"Yseult is… She's taught herself that all men are pigs. She's made a habit of being aggressive towards them." Kaherdin said as if remembering the many times he had witnessed it. His smiled broadened fondly.

"Ahh I see." I said as I stood back up. I put my harness back on, but I didn't bother tightening it. Next to all the half naked woad women with their thin, pale bodies, I felt somewhat brutish. I was drenched in blood, sweat, smoke and dirt. I knew I must have smelled as foul as one of the Saxons I had killed. I looked through the trees in the direction of the battlefield. I had been gone for an hour or two and I would need to go back to help bury Galina. I left Modron, Mordred and Kaherdin there. They would have their own loved one to bury.


I thought of my friend as I made my way back to the edge of the forest. I could trace the path that I had taken through the field of carnage. I did not want to walk that path again. I knew that Arthur would have taken Galina's body back to the fortress. A rider would have been sent to the caravan to tell the villagers to head back. Geraint would need Lancelot and I. I thought of Galina's words to me years ago back at Luguvalium.

Put me in a boat and set fire to it. Let me sail east while I burn.

I would find a boat, and we would let Galina sail east.

When I finally reached the fort, Galahad was there to wrap to his arms around me and nearly collapse on me. His quiet tears soaked through my faded dark blue tunic. I returned the embrace for a few minutes. We eventually let go and moved apart.

"Where is she?" I asked.

"Arthur laid her on the round table." He said wiping his face roughly. I pulled him to me and kissed his forehead hard.

"Isolde, I love you." He said while I kissed him.

"I know. I love you." I said and walked away. I walked through the fortress and was glad for the silence. The only villagers here were the ones who had stayed; the others had not come back yet. I passed by Dagonet, Bors and Gawain in the yard. They had helped themselves to what brew that had been left behind. I sat next to them for a moment.

"You alright?" Bors asked looking at me concernedly. Their faces were marked with grief. I nodded and tipped back a flagon of the drink. It seared its way down my throat in a comforting manner. I felt alive again. I stood up again and walked to my room with out seeing another face. I was still loaded up with my armor. I flinched as I remember that I had left my poor horse on the battlefield. I quickly shrugged off the thick armor and most of my weapons. I was sore and bruised, but I had much to do before I slept. I put on a nearly black tunic, a sign of my mourning and began to make my way to the battlefield again. I walked a ways into the clearing and waited. A short time later and Kolaksay came to whicker at my side. He gave me a push with his nose as if to tell me to straighten up and get a hold of my emotions. I threw a leg over his back and rode around the battle field until I found my shield. A small dent now marred one of the griffin's wings. I shrugged and slung it across the saddle. I rode back to the fortress and walked Kolaksay into the stables.

"Come on old friend." I said and led him to a stall. I was aware that another person in the stables. I soon realized it was Tristan as I hauled the saddle off my horse. He apparently had finished with his horse for he soon walked over to my stall. I grabbed the bucket outside the stall and stuck my hand into the water. I squeezed out most of the water and began rubbing at the blood that covered the stallion. Tristan merely watched until I was done. I turned to face him when I finished.

"I'll be heading to Sarmatia in a few days time." I said as I made up my mind. We stood there with the stall wall in between us and he looked at me impassively.

"You coming back?" Tristan asked. I could hear his tiredness in his voice. He was covered in blood from his various wounds. I tilted my head as I leaned against the stall so that I could see the side of his head. His ear was nearly sliced in two and there was a huge gash continuing along his head. It was oozing and swollen.

"Yes. I don't know when though. It could be weeks or years." I said deep in thought. He nodded understandingly. He took a thumb and raked it against some crusty blood on my face.

"Come on, I'll sew your head up." I said eyeing his ear. We walked back to my room and he sat on the bed. I made to close the door, but then I thought of March. Leaving the door open, I grabbed a needle, thread and a wet cloth. I sat down on the bed and folded one leg under the other. I wearily leaned against the wall as Tristan laid his head down in my lap. I began picking grime out of the head wound and making sure that it was clean cut. I gently scrubbed at his head and hair. It took me a while to clean the gash, and even longer to get the blood out of his hair. Finally it was clean and I could begin to stitch him up.

"You're lucky he didn't slice off you ear." I said as I began to thread the needle. Before I could finish however, he sat up and turned around to face me.

"I'll listen to you next time." He said seriously.

"Be prepared for me to knock you over the head if you don't." I said evenly.

"Isolde…" He began and I realized what was about to happen. We were covered in blood and gore and the door was wide open, but he was going to kiss me and we were going to make love right there on my bed. It would make for an entirely awkward situation afterwards, one that would lead to many complications. It would hurt March. It would most definitely end my relationship with March. I felt something when I kissed March, while Tristan and I had already defined our relationship. But did I want to do that? Have a…romance with March? When he would want a wife to live with him and bear him children…But…I was saved from choosing when a young woman stood in front of my door.

"Here, let me do it." Yseult said coming forward. She took the needle from my hand and stood in front of Tristan. I thought back to Modron's words about Yseult and Tristan. I realized that her efforts to help were probably aimed towards being near Tristan. I found this to be childish and disgusting. I wondered if the knights looked at my tryst with March the same way… Was that what it was? A stupid young romance? I stood up and left the two alone… I needed to find Galina.


Aight I'm gonna have to cut it there… Home freakin work… REVIEW!