A/N – Well here you go, the long awaited instalment! Wow, I'm getting seriously big-headed aren't I! So here's the deal – you read andreview, and I might let Alennia live long enough for Tristran to get that kiss of her that she still owes him. Deal? Got for it then!

Chapter Nineteen: Eternal Saviour

Tristran rode through the forests at a leisurely pace, Dagonet beside him. Tristran breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of summer, of the sea, but most of all, of home.

"Good to be back?" Dagonet commented, grinning sideways at his companion.

"Heavenly," Tristan breathed.

The two years he had been away had felt like a lifetime. This was his home, where he was born, and for the last two years he had come to understand what the knights had to endure for fifteen years.

They were returning along the coastline, and, as ever, Tristran rode ahead as a scout. This time, however, Dagonet accompanied him. Tristran did not know why he had decided to ask Dagonet if he would ride with him, but he had, and so they rode through the trees half a mile or so from the sea.

Dagonet watched with a smile on his face, as Tristran progressively grew more and more content. Dagonet wondered idly why he had been asked to accompany him. It was rare, no, it was exceptional for Tristran to ask anyone to scout with him: he complained when Arthur insisted, and would give his companion black looks for the entire trip, but today, he was in an unusually happy mood.

"If this is how I'll behave when I return home, I think I'd rather not go back," Dagonet commented.

Tristran grinned at him, unable to be annoyed, and Dagonet laughed out loud in sheer astonishment. Tristran smiling was an uncommon occurrence the in the past two years.

They heard a noise behind them, Tristran slightly before Dagonet, and both knights turned to see Bors ride along the path towards them, his horse's hooves pounding on the dry earth.

"Artorius sent me to make sure you weren't getting into any trouble," he informed them, pulling up beside Dagonet.

"And why would we be?" Dagonet asked pleasantly.

"Since when does Tristran invite anyone to ride with him?" Bors demanded bluntly.

"I…!" Tristran began in an aggrieved voice, but fell silent and shrugged his shoulders apologetically. "You're right," he admitted.

"Of course I'm right!" Bors said in an injured voice. "When am I not right?"

"You really want to know?" Dagonet asked.

"I most certainly do!" Bors challenged.

"Well," Dagonet began. "There was that time you told us you'd never let Vanora get her claws around you. And when you told Arthur that you'd stake Lancelot's life on the Woads attacking from the east, and they came from the west. And then the time that you…"

Two hours later

"…And when you said that nobody could beat you in a fist fight and Gawain flattened you in less than a minute, and…" Dagonet was still talking in an amiable voice, although Tristran by this time was looking distinctly bored, and Bors' face was growing darker and darker by every passing minute.

All three men heard the sounds of battle at the same time, and no communication was needed between them: Dagonet instantly fell silent, and they moved together towards the noise. They reached the point where the trees met the open land, and could see a battle raging between Woads and the invading Saxons on the sands, about half a mile away.

"Not our fight," Dagonet commented.

"The more dead Woads the better," Bors agreed, looking uninterestedly at the melee.

Tristran however, did not speak. His eye had been caught by a dark cloak: a cloak covering a familiar frame. Breathlessly, he watched the figure turn to see a Woad woman killed, and even from that distance he could sense the grief and anger in her. And then Tristran's heart stopped, as the familiar figure turned on the Saxon who had killed the Woad woman and throw herself at him, attacking with a ferocity that Tristran did not believe possible.

Dagonet turned to say something to Tristran, but stopped abruptly when he saw his friend's ashen face. Tristran's mind was in turmoil: all he could think was that after so long he had finally found her, only to see her cut down before his very eyes.

To both Dagonet and Bors' surprise, he suddenly kicked his horse forwards and charged straight into the battle. Dagonet turned to Bors and raised his eyebrows slightly. Bors laughed, and the two followed their friend into the fight.

Alennia fought with fading strength, nothing but her hatred of the entire Saxon race keeping her alive. But quite suddenly the Saxon attacked with his full strength, forcing Alennia backwards, and she suddenly realised that he had been toying with her, prolonging her inevitable death.

As she stumbled backwards under the viciousness of the assault, Alennia tripped over a Saxon body and fell to he knees, her sword going sliding over the ground and out of reach.

The Saxon loomed above her, raising his sword for the deathblow, and Alennia raised her head, proud and unflinching, meeting death with courage and scorn, readying herself for the inevitable.

"So this is where is ends," she thought, somewhat bitterly. "On my knees in front of Saxon scum"

And yet the final blow never came. Suddenly the Saxon stiffened, and Alennia saw a blade slide easily out of his stomach. The big man looked at it with something close to surprise, and then slid off the blade and landed, face down, beside Alennia.

She looked up to see a familiar face looking down on her in horror. Tristran immediately knelt beside her, thanking the Gods she was yet living.

"You seem to be making a habit of saving me," Alennia said in a weak voice, the willpower and determination to show no weakness before her enemies that had been keeping her alive, slowly fading.

"If you'd stop getting into trouble I wouldn't need to," Tristran told her gruffly, ignoring Bors who was cutting down Saxons in a nonchalant fashion behind him.

Tristran tore her top back to expose the wound on her shoulder. Alennia tried to protest and pull her shirt back up.

"Shut up!" Tristran told her with all his usual politeness.

Alennia looked up at him through failing eyes and laughed feebly, for it was so like him to rebuke her like that. Tristran was in the middle of binding the wound when he felt Alennia's body go limp, and her head slid sideways. For one horrendous moment he thought she was dead, but then he felt her breathing, so weak it was almost undetectable, but it was there at least.

"Get her out of here!" Dagonet shouted at Tristran, and the knight looked up to see the Woads retreating.

He picked the unconscious form of Alennia up, and swung up into his saddle, holding her carefully in front of him. With Dagonet and Bors at his side, he galloped for the trees, leaving a camp full of bewildered Saxons, suddenly left without an enemy.

A/N – Sorry it's been so long in coming guys – I have been battling to get any revision done, what with hockey matches (why, someone please tell me, are they in the middle of our exams!) etc. Anyway, it's here, and I hope it doesn't diasappoint. Please, please review, I love you guys so much when you do – it honestly makes this worth doing!