Hallo! Yeah I made this chapter extra long! Whoo hoo! Yeah it was real hard to guess what was gonna happen when Isolde got back haha. I hope that the way it plays out isn't to unoriginal. But who knows!

Blue Eyes At Night- I like your style…

Gasolina- I hope that's a good type of pain ahha

Witch of Eastwick- Yay I'm glad you like it!


We followed Arthur into the residence. We made our way to the large room where the round table was housed. Since it was not just us knights, we did not sit in our normal seats. We all sat crowded near Arthur. I was seated in between Lancelot and Kaherdin, directly across from Tristan. On either side of Tristan sat Yseult and Bors. Yseult laid both hands on Tristan as she leaned in to talk to him. This was going to be hard. I had heard tales of love and heartbreak, but my experience did not seem as grand or beautiful. I wasn't going to waste away or throw myself from a rampart. I just felt something in my chest tighten painfully. I felt a sense of despair. I would not make it obvious. I would not glare at the younger woman. I would not act miserable. I would not push my plate away. I closed my eyes for a moment and gathered every bit of pain. I would deal with it later. I smiled slightly. I was still with my other loved ones. I had not lost them.

"Isolde, when should we expect Galahad and Gawain to return?" Guinevere asked me. I took a large gulp of wine from a plain goblet.

"Oh I haven't seen them for months. We parted ways when we reached Sarmatia." I said sitting back in my seat. We were all full and tired. "Galahad is probably bedding women off war tales…Gawain should be married by now."

"As hard as I try, I cannot imagine Gawain being faithful to one woman." Arthur said shaking his head. Dagonet smiled with his arms crossed. Mordred came and sat in my lap. He laid his head on my collarbone and let an arm fall around my neck while the other held a fistful of my tunic. He was bone tired I could tell.

"Where is Modron?" I asked Kaherdin as I held Mordred.

"She is at our home in the north. She is still adjusting to being the queen." Kaherdin said with a note of sadness. I suspected he was still pained by his mother's death in battle. Lancelot slung an arm around me.

"My son will be pleased to see you." He said charmingly. "He needs a woman in his life."

I snorted. I was to the point where thoughts of Galina brought up memories of happier times. I smiled as I thought of the days we had spent in the south after Geraint's birth.

"Really? I would have thought you were women enough." I said languidly.

"Well compared to you, I suppose I am rather feminine." He parried easily.

"Oh. Are you suggesting that because I don't dally in front a mirror that often, that I am unwomanly?" I asked in mock offence.

"Are you suggesting that I dally in front of a mirror?" Lancelot asked equally offended.

"Yes." I said plainly. His smile broadened.

"Good to have you back." Bors said tipping his drink back. "These other halfwits couldn't put on a show like you two."

"Glad to be of service." Lancelot said stretching.

"You've been given a room?" Arthur asked with concern.

"Of course. I feel like a queen." I said smirking at Guinevere. She raised her glass.

"You can have it." She said dryly. "I'm going to eviscerate the next person who tries to coddle me."

"Ah. A queen with child. You must be stifled." I laughed. I may have told myself to act nonchalant, but I was a woman and I couldn't help but pick at Yseult's appearance. Her coarse russet hair was in a thick ropey braid that framed her face. She was in a green tunic that made her look like a nymph. There was nothing repulsive about her to make me feel better. Well, she was a bit too thin in my opinion…

"Well my king. How do you like politics?" I asked Arthur. He grimaced. "What have I missed?"

"Minor skirmishes." Dagonet said.

"We've been trying to convince the kings and chieftains that Arthur is not a threat to their sovereignty." March said wearily.

"Most have accepted it." Arthur said rubbing his temples. "Though some don't seem to grasp that I am here to serve as a warlord. They think I really want to handle their day to day problems and hoard their gold."

"Speaking of… Tomorrow and the day after, many of the leaders will be arriving for a feast in two days. We're going to try and make peace with as many as possible." Guinevere said. I frowned with distaste.

"Arthur, don't you have somewhere to send me? A skirmish or a battle?" I pleaded, only have serious. I knew he would want his strongest allies here for intimidation. Galahad and Gawain would be missed.

"Has poor Isolde not impaled anyone lately?" Lancelot said sadly while tweaking my nose. I narrowed my eyes and backed my ears.

"No. Don't tempt me." I said.

"Nearly five months." Mordred said sleepily. Bors sat back with a smile.

"I've killed probably thirty since you left." He said. I longed for a battle. Something to make me feel useful again. I felt reckless at the moment.

"Well," Mordred said nestling into my shoulder. "She killed a bunch of men before we reached her tribe. She almost died…"

I could tell he had fallen asleep.

"Really now?" Arthur asked no longer joking. I shrugged.

"Just marauders." I said simply.

"Bet you enjoyed that." Guinevere said. I gave a small smile.

"You and Tristan amaze me sometimes." Bors said shaking his head. He, Lancelot, Arthur, Guinevere, and Dagonet all looked slight uncomfortable after that. It was as if they knew something I didn't. Lancelot looked guilty. I kept my face blank. Yseult's semblance changed. Her eyes caught mine for a split second. Her look was not hateful or threatening…Just defiant. She looped her arm with his and I wondered how he could stand it. It was as if she was marking him as her territory. I pretended not to notice. It was childish. What made her think she had more right to him than me? I shook it off and yawned.

"Here, I will take him to his room." Kaherdin said holding out his arms for Mordred. I shook my head.

"I'll do it." I said. We all stood up, ready to retire to our chambers. We all said good night and went our separate ways. I took Mordred to his room and laid him on his bed. To my surprise, he sat straight up and took his shoes off. He appeared to be wide awake.

"I thought you were asleep." I said cupping his chin. Dark green and blue eyes stared guardedly at me.

"Grownups say more when they think you are asleep." He said blankly. I cocked an eyebrow at him. The boy was going to be a brilliant ruler. He seemed to be measuring me also.

"Are you going to cry?" He asked innocently. I smiled. The boy had noticed Yseult and Tristan also.

"No. I'm not going to cry." I said pulling his blanket over him.

"Will you stop loving him?" He asked as he settled in. I kissed his forehead and stood up.

"I'll try." I said and left him to his sleep.


I strolled back to the wing where the knights were housed. I was glad to see that March was not waiting outside my room. I froze however when I heard a laugh. It was Tristan and Yseult outside one of the doors. Well, I now knew where Tristan's room was. Yseult leaned against the door and looked up at him. I sunk further into the shadows. I would have lost every bit of dignity in me if they had seen me. I would have been humiliated. She put a hand to his cheek and pulled him close to her. Just as their lips met, I turned to see Lancelot stand next to me. He watched with disgust as Tristan opened the door and he and Yseult entered. I felt sick. I wanted nothing more than to make my way out to the courtyard and be physically ill.

"Come." Lancelot said as he pulled me into what I assumed to be his own room. I sat down on his bed and sighed. Lancelot looked into Geraint's crib and stroked his cheek. I stood next to him and looked at the babe. He had grown up so fast.

"He can walk and run now." Lancelot said softly. I fingered a gold curl for a moment.

"He looks so much like her." I whispered. Lancelot sat down on his bed and scrubbed at his face.

"I suppose there's no hiding it from you now." He said sorrowfully. I sat next to him and leaned my head on him.

"How long?" I asked.

"As soon as you were gone, she made it obvious that she fancied him." He began. "Tristan was unresponsive at first, but she was persistent. I don't know when he began to …care for her I suppose. But one day they were suddenly lovers."

I realized I had never said aloud that I loved Tristan. It had seemed that if I actually said it, it would become irreversible. I needed to tell someone though.

"I love him Lancelot." I said plainly. Lancelot pulled me to him and held me.

"It hurts doesn't it?" He asked fiercely. I returned the embrace. I had not realized that he truly loved Guinevere. I felt a new bond with him. I loved Lancelot, but it seemed as thought we now had another thing in common. This sorrow that came with unrequited love. I wondered how much it pained him to see Guinevere married to his oldest friend. His king. She was his queen and now she was bearing his child. "I cannot hate Arthur for loving her too. I cannot even hate him for the fact that she belongs to him. But Isolde, you do not have to accept this. Tristan was yours long before she ever set eyes on him."

I sat back and took a deep breath.

"Is he happy Lancelot?" I asked guardedly.

"He seems happy…But you've been gone, so who knows now." He said.

"Does he love her?" I asked despite the urge to scream.

"I've never heard him say it." Lancelot said stiffly. I felt what he did not say. No. He never said he loved her. But he lets the girl cling to him and treat him like her husband.

I laughed bitterly.

"I suppose I deserve it. It seems fitting does it not? He once returned to me to find me with a new lover, and now I return to find him with a woman." I took a ragged breath and smiled. "I will do nothing."

"Isolde, don't give up, you have not even-" Lancelot protested.

"I will not interfere with his happiness if he loves her." I said firmly. Lancelot shook his head as if I was mad.

"Lancelot, you love her do you not? Then why don't you woo her? Run away with her?" I asked.

"Because she is happy with Arthur. And because I love Arthur." He said as if he had entertained the idea of confessing his love and acting on it.

"Well I love Tristan." That was the second time I had said it. "And if he is happy, I will let him be."

"Isolde, you belong with him. That girl is like a leach. She clings and is jealous. She constantly bickers with him." Lancelot said heatedly.

"Vanora and Bors fight constantly." I defended. He shook his head.

"No. She's a spoiled child. This isn't love…" He said disgustedly. "It's infatuation. She's a girl who thinks she's a woman. She always runs off angrily and makes him come to her. I don't know why he even tolerates her."

"Whether he loves her or not has nothing to do with his feelings for me." I said firmly. I was ready to end the conversation. "He will come to me if he loves me."

"Not if you act like you don't care. Especially not if you take up with that woad again." Lancelot said crossing his arms.

"I will not take March to bed again." I promised. "But if you try to interfere on my behalf, I swear on everything holy I will castrate you."

Lancelot raised his eyebrows and raised his hands in defeat. We sat in companionable silence for hours like that. I stood up finally. I wanted to be outside.

"Goodnight." I said simply. I stepped outside and shut the door softly. I walked into my own room and put on the beautiful coat my mother had made me. It would be chilly outside. I stepped out into the hall and shut my door. I looked up to see Tristan stepping out of his own room. I wished I did not love him. I wished that I could simply look at him as a close companion as I once had. But it was too hard. I merely nodded and quickly walked down the hall. If he was heading the same way as me, he was walking quietly for I could not hear any footsteps but my own. I stepped out into the cool night air and breathed deeply. I made my way to a room that served as a small armory. I found arrowheads, feathers and rough wooden shafts. I stepped into the large courtyard again and sat on a bench. The moonlight would serve me well. I sat cross legged and laid out the materials. No arrows ever fly as straight as the ones made with your own hands. I pulled out my knife and began smoothing the wood to perfection. It calmed me. I carved each shaft as if it was the only arrow I would have in battle. I could loose my sword, my dagger, my spear and my sheild. I could loose every other arrow but the one I held in my hand. If made improperly, it could cost me my life. But with the right amount of devotion and skill, it would kill an enemy at my discretion.

"Don't sneak." I said flatly without taking my eyes off the task at hand. Tristan's footsteps became slightly more audible as he walked to where I sat. He took a seat at the end of the bench and took a shaft of wood in his hands. I glanced upwards to find him looking at my hands, bloodied and splintered. He took out his own knife and began carving out any offending lumps or imperfections. We didn't speak for a while. We just sat there and enjoyed our morbid pasttime. I wondered if he and Yseult had anything they enjoyed together. I began carving notches into the arrows for the arrowheads and the feathers.

"Nothing better to do in the middle of the night than fletch arrows?" Tristan said several arrows later. I had missed his heavily accented voice. Damned scout with his expressionless face...

"No." I said lightly. I ran a finger over an arrowhead. It was sharp enough to slice my finger tip open. "What about you Tristan? Don't scouts need to sleep?"

I was highly proud of myself. I had managed to keep my voice from being tense or accusing. Afterall, it was his right to love another woman. I was especially proud that I had not added in Have you nothing better to do either? Don't you have a woad in your bed? Yes. Very proud indeed. But that would have been spiteful and childish. But oh so tempting...

Tristan chose to say nothing.

"So there's been little bloodshed?" I asked disappointedly. Not that I relished in death...I just lived for the ethereal feeling that came with battle.

"Not too much. The northernmost woads have been causing trouble. They don't like a half Roman for king. But the other woads say they will take care of it." He paused as he picked up the last arrow. I would have an entire quiver full of arrows now. "Some lords in the south refuse to recognize him."

We would have our work cut out for us over the next few years as we established Arthur.

"Any news of the Saxons?" I asked looking up at the sky. Tristan scratched his beard roughly.

"They're growing in the southeast. Every day they take a few more miles of countryside." His voice was calm and emotionless, but I could sense the worry that lay underneath. Not for himself, but for what it would mean for those he cared about. Arthur had been made high king. There was no turning back now. In a short time he bound himself to the fate of Britain, and with him he bound those who loved him. We could never abandon him. Not now. Not ever.

"When do you suspect he'll send us out?" I asked. I hoped there was a skirmish soon. Tristan shrugged.

"Tristan?" I heard a voice call out. I glanced up quickly. Yseult was standing in one of the archways. Apparently she had dressed in the dark for she was wearing her trousers, but one of Tristan's tunics. I would recognize the dark, colorless tunic anywhere with its signature high collar. I raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing? It's cold out here."

I was only a woman, and my tongue would obey my head for only so long

"Your lady calls." I drawled. He looked at her for a moment as if waiting for her to give a real reason why she had hunted him down.

"I'm fine." He said dismissively. Yseult stood there for a moment looking hurt in an oversized tunic. I nearly laughed when I realized that had I not returned, she would have left him to his nighttime air. But apparently I, Isolde, was not to be trusted.

"I missed you." She said taking a small step forward. She gave him a small, loving smile. She couldn't leave him to himself for a few hours?

"I believe Bors would call you a kept man." I said quietly knowing I was not helping the situation. Yseult couldn't hear me fortunately. Tristan gave me a strange look, one I could not place. He stood up wearily and went to Yseult. She gave me a one last look and frowned slightly before turning back to the scout. I touched the tattoo on my neck. I had something she would never have. The thought consoled me as I gathered my arrows. I suddenly realized how tired I was. I made my way back to my room and packed my quiver tight with arrows. I peeled off my coat and long yellow tunic and climbed into bed. I swore I would not pity myself.


I woke up at noon the next day. Well...I was awakened at noon the next day. Dagonet and Lancelot stood above me.

"You leave us for nearly a year and you want to sleep the day away?" Lancelot scoffed.

"It wasn't a year..." I mumbled. Dagonet scooped me up with ease and set me down on my feet.

"I didn't think it was possible, but you've filled out even more." Lancelot said appreciatively. Suave bastard...I was tired and in my pants and breastband. I turned around to grab my black tunic.

"The sacred tree." Dagonet said simply and I realized they had a full view of my new addition.

"I bet Tristan and Bors don't have one that impressive." Lancelot said with a whistle.

"Have what?" Tristan said poking his head in. We were in a Roman domus, miles away from Hadrian's wall, yet still they seemed to enjoy congregating in my room. Gods above.

"Have a bit of ink this pretty..." Lancelot said turning my back to face Tristan.

"Now that you've all had a look at my love half naked body, may I please dress?" I asked and my voice was all honey and sweetness.

"Lovely indeed." Lancelot said making sure Tristan heard. "Look at that tiny waist! And such ample-"

"Lancelot." I said and this time my voice was dark with foul, violent intentions.

"Perhaps we should leave her to dress." Dagonet said with authority. I heard Tristan scuffle out the door. Lancelot shut the door and turned back to me. I didn't care if they saw me dress or not. We had lived with each other too long to be modest. I dressed and then cracked Lancelot across the jaw. Dagonet gave a tiny smile of amusement.

"What part of do not interfere did you not grasp?" I asked straightening up. Lancelot rubbed his jaw reproachfully.

"Anything but my face." He said while wincing. "I was merely pointing out that you are beautiful. I mean, I don't know what he sees in that girl, but he can't possibly compare the two of you in terms of beauty."

"I would kiss you if you weren't so...so...much like yourself. But she's pretty whether you like her or not. And even if she looked like a hag, that's his business." I said as if speaking to a small child.

"You should be his concern-" Lancelot began.

"You really need to meet my mother. You would get along famously." I said rubbing my temples. "Lancelot, I'm a woman. Nearly an old maid. Let me handle my own affairs."

I left him no room to argue.

"Lancelot won't interfere any longer." Dagonet said putting a warning hand on our charming friend's shoulder. "But should you ever need us to speak to Tristan, we will."

"Thank you." I said and I meant it.

"How about some lunch?" Lancelot said as my stomach grumbled. I opened the door and stepped outside.

"How about some sparring afterwards?" I said with mild interest as we walked down the hall.

"I insist. You've probably lost your edge after months without a sword in your hand." Lancelot said in a far too chipper voice.

I gave him a smile. It was not a comforting look and his smile faded a bit. I may not have killed anyone for some time, but I had spent many an hour practicing in Sarmatia with old knights.


Lancelot's eyes widened as he ducked the edge of Pata.

"I yeilded ten minutes ago." He panted.

"But then you told me my mother had gone all day and all night." I said innocently.

"I didn't mean with a sword!" My smooth faced friend said over the clash of our blades.

"I know."

"Isolde, leave that alone! I need it!"

"Oh forgive me...I wasn't sure it was there at all."

"Don't you remember that night my sweet? You seemed to be quite fond of it then-"

"That wasn't me Lancelot. That was the old whore in that village-"

"You promised never to bring that up agai-"

"-that turned out to be a ma-"

There was a clang and a painful sounding thud. I smiled victoriously as I held my sword against Lancelot's throat.

"What was that Lionel used to call you? Hecate?" Lancelot said as I helped him up. I smiled remembering Lionel.

"My turn." Guinevere said stepping forward. I took a moment to rest and catch my breath. Guinevere, Lancelot, Dagonet, Arthur, Tristan, Yseult, Kaherdin, Bors, March and I were all in a practice yard. So far I had bested Lancelot, Kaherdin and Arthur. Guinevere stood at the ready in a fine blue tunic.

"Shouldn't you be facing a lesser opponent? Like Lucan?" Kaherdin asked skeptically. I eyed the young woman's large belly.

"Yes, I think we should save a humiliating defeat at Isolde's hands for another time..." Arthur said warily. He was trying to make her take it easy without making her feel like a pet. Gods knows we had seen Vanora go mad during a pregnancy several times... A woman with child was a formidable force.

"Perhaps some other time." I said smoothly as I sheathed my sword. "I need to rest."

In truth I could have gone on for hours. Guinevere saw right through our act, as we all knew she would, but she accepted it and stepped back. She laid a pale hand on her stomach and smiled.

"I think I need a rest too. Both of us..." She said gently. I wondered what it was like to know there was a another person inside of you... Yseult twisted and leaned against Tristan.

"One day..." She said quietly to him. She held his hand against her stomach and he didn't pull away. I didn't have the heart to wish her barren... We all dispersed after a moment and headed to our rooms. The lords and such would be arriving soon. Lancelot did bother hiding the disgusted expression on his face as he passed Yseult.

"I'd love to drown her." He said standing next to me.

"Well I'd love to be sick right now. Unfortunately, I need to go bathe." I said. Dagonet patted me on the shoulder.


I walked to the baths and sat on the edge of the pool. Guinevere soon appeared and immidiately immersed herself in the water.

"How are you floating?" I asked. I didn't envy her huge belly at that moment. Looking at her, I would have swore she'd sink like a rock.

"Easily... I feel weightless..." She said dreamily. "A rare occurence these days..."

I snorted and slid into the water. I liked having an entire body of water to bathe in at my convenience. There was a slight cough. We both looked to see Yseult stand by the edge.

"Mind if I join you?" She asked politely. I decided that if we became enemies, it would be her fault. Not mine.

"Plenty of water." I said plainly. She nodded and undressed. Guinevere didn't seem to mind the girl's company so I decided she couldn't be all bad. Perhaps she was only intolerable around Tristan...

"We have to wear dresses and look pretty for tomorrow." Guinevere said playfully.

"I cannot wait." I said dryly.

"It is terrible." Yseult said with a shudder. "Half the guests would love nothing more than to gut us alive for supporting Arthur, and the other half spend the whole night trying to force their daughters on the knights."

I laughed.

"A new breed of nobility..." I said highly amused. We had just been freed from our slavery to Rome, and now the men were being offered to mix with highranking families.This was going to be amusing.


Review...atleast show some thanks for the extra length of the chap!