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"What's going to happen to Dynadan?" Llynya sat cross-legged on the bet she shared with Gawain, the blond knight slumped beside her. "Is Arthur… I mean he isn't going to be…"

"Put to death?" Gawain ran a weary hand over his face. "No. No, although I'm not sure that he wouldn't welcome that sentence. He left this morning. He won't return here, and if he does… Well the villagers are angry, and with good reason. There is no place for him here anymore."

"So he's just going to wander the country alone?" Llynya fidgeted with the hem of her dress and shot Gawain a sideways glance. "Death would have been kinder."

He shrugged ruefully. "Perhaps so, but Arthur feels that enough blood has been spilt already. Tauleas is dead as is his beast. Dynadan only poses a threat to himself."

"I suppose so." Getting to her feet, Llynya winced a little. Her side still ached from Tauleas's blow, and her hip was a colourful rainbow of bruising. She had awoken in the tavern not long after passing out, Gawain holding her gently on his lap, the whimpers of grief from Balan's mother hushing the voices of the other knights. Dagonet had looked her over and assured Gawain that, bar a few bruises, she would be perfectly fine. In an attempt at lightening the moodGalahad had remarked with mock indignation that his friend was never that concerned with his own welfare, a joke that was studiously ignored by the other knight and the girl on his lap. Yesterday's events still seemed blurry and slightly unreal. Were it not for the freshly dug graves in the little cemetery and the tiger skin stretched out to dry outside the tavern and surrounded by awe-struck children, Llynya could almost fancy the whole thing a dream.

"Are you hungry?" Gawain asked quietly, "the villagers have organised a feast, or whatever passes for a feast in these parts. You will certainly be expected to make an appearance, after all you are something of a heroine in these parts now."

Llynya wrinkled her nose. "Let them pay tribute to Arthur and Tristan - to all of the knights. All I did was fall over, get captured and pass out. Hardly the stuff of legend."

Gawain laughed and shook his shaggy head. "You were very brave." Rising to his feet, he walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Of course you were also reckless, stubborn and have probably aged me twenty years, but I am willing to overlook that."

Llynya snorted and snuggled into his embrace. "How very noble of you."

"Indeed." Kissing her on the forehead, he smiled down at her. "Never let it be said that Samartian knights are ever anything less than chivalrous."

"Except for Bors".

"Except for Bors," he agreed.

"And Lancelot," she added.

"Lancelot respects women," Gawain protested. "He just…" giving a sigh he rolled his eyes. "You win. And Lancelot."

Llynya laughed, eagerly lifting her mouth to his when he bent down to kiss her. Tangling her fingers into his hair and letting him wash away the tension, terror and grief of the past few days with the warmth of his body and strength of his love. It was several moments before she realised that the banging noise was not the sound of her heart slamming against her ribs.

"Gods," Gawain sighed, releasing her reluctantly. "This had better be good."

Yanking the door open, he came face to face with a grey haired lady who did not seem in the least bit intimidated by the big man glaring down at her.

"You must be Gawain," she said briskly, pushing past him and looking at Llynya appraisingly. "I've come for your lassie. And from the look of things not a moment too soon."

Llynya blinked and looked at the old woman. "Er, and you are?"

"My name is Cinnia. I run the bakery back behind the smithy." She tucked a stray lock of hair back into her bun and smiled. "Right grateful we are to you, girl. You and your man. Terrible business, terrible, but that's no excuse for turning up to a feast looking like something the cat's dragged in. Especially as cat's aren't particularly popular 'round here at the moment if you catch my meaning."

Llynya listened to this rather obscure comment with ill-concealed bafflement. "No, I suppose they aren't… Look I don't mean to be rude, but why are you here?"

"I've come to get you, I've said that already." Cinnia looked at the young girl as though she thought Llynya might be half witted. "There's a bath drawn for you at my house, and a change of clothes. Now the beast is dead and we don't have to skulk about like weasels we can show you proper Avebury hospitality." Turning away, she marched to the door.

Weasels? Llynya mouthed at Gawain incredulously. The woman was obviously mad - dimly she thought of Balan and wondered just how much inbreeding went on in the small village. Gawain merely shrugged, obviously highly amused by the whole thing.

"I'll see you later, Llynya," he said with as much innocence as his gruff voice could convey. "Have a nice bath - if you'd like some company…"

"There'll be none of that business, thank-you very much." Eying the blond knight with beady black eyes, Cinnia almost shoved Llynya out of the door. "And don't think that you are going to be disgracing your fellows by turning up like that. Take off your clothes."

Gawain looked at her, startled. "I beg your pardon…"

Gavin's bringing his tub over, and from the looks of things you are in dire need of it. I'll collect your clothes and do what I can with them," she looked unenthusiastically at the dirty hauberk and shirt that had been tossed into the corner. "As for your hair… If you cut it off you'd look so much better, a handsome young man like you - Davey's got a pair of scissors, I'm sure he'd…"

"No." Gawain took a step backwards, looking horrified. "That is, I er… no. Thank you."

"Are you sure?" Llynya watched his distress gleefully. "Perhaps you should shave your head like Dagonet and Bors. It'd be so much cooler in the summertime…"

Gawain's response was thankfully muffled as he kicked the door shut. Giggling, Llynya let the old woman usher her outside and towards the bakery.


Now this was perhaps something akin to Arthur's heaven, Llynya thought as she rinsed the last of the soap from her body. The cooling water in which she wallowed was discoloured by the mud and sweat that had accumulated over the past few days, her skin pink from the warm water. Squeezing most of the water from her long hair, she stepped out of the cast iron tub and wrapped a large piece of sacking around herself. She shivered a little as a draught eddied through the little stone room, but what utter bliss it was to be clean! This was the first time that she had ever had the luxury of a proper bath. Back in her village she had used the river to bathe in - the idea of owning a bath tub prohibitively expensive and impractical. Now, flushed and smelling of the lavender that Cinnia had thoughtfully added to the water, she finally understood the love the Romans had for their baths.

On a chair in the corner a carefully folded pile of clothing rested. The garments had once belonged to Charlotte, and before picking them up, Llynya gave a brief prayer in the hope that her friend was happy wherever it is that people go when their souls departed. She had argued when Cinnia had pressed the clothing upon her; feeling it almost indecent to wear the things that had belonged to the dead girl, but Louisa, who had barely spoken a dozen words in the past few days, had finally persuaded her to take them. Charlotte would have enjoyed the feast, she thought with bittersweet memory. Perhaps her spirit would smile at the idea that at least her dress would be able to take part in the festivities.

Straightening her shift and pulling the dress over her head, she did what she could with the heavy mass of her dark hair and padded out into the hallway. Cinnia and Louisa were waiting for her in the kitchen, the older woman transferring a freshly baked batch of rolls into a big basket and blowing on her fingers when they proved to be a little hotter than expected.

"Llynya. How pretty you look dear." Louisa smiled as the young woman stepped a little shyly into the kitchen. While by no means the self-possessed woman she had been before, there was at least a little light in her eyes now: with the death of Tauleas and the beast she seemed to have reconciled at least a part of her sorrow. Llynya smiled at her - grateful for the reassurance and to see the woman who had been willing to take her in looking so much better.

"Yes lassie, you're almost presentable." Cinnia looked at Llynya as though she were a pastry she had baked that had turned out better than she had expected. "Blue suits you, you should wear it more often."

Llynya bit back a smile at that. Up until an hour ago her possessions had consisted of her shift, her shoes, her dress and the shawl that she had dropped by the river a week (or was it a thousand years?) ago. The colour of her garments was the least of her worries.

"Can I do anything to help?" she asked. "I can't tell you how grateful I am for the bath.

Cinnia nodded towards the two baskets that held the fresh rolls. "You can take them out, Just put them on the big table - you can't miss it." Llynya nodded, picking up the baskets and heading outside. Grinning at Louisa's warning not to get too dirty, she almost walked into Bors.

"'alright Llynya?" The big man smiled at her, relieving her of one of her baskets despite her protests. "You look nice; anytime you fancy leaving that hairball of a creature and finding out what a real man is like, then come find me."

Llynya laughed. She knew that Bors was joking and rolled her eyes at him exaggeratedly. "I'm sure that your lady would love to hear that. Gawain says that you're more scared of her than the Saxons."

Bors guffawed at the comment. "Well you ask Gawain about the time Van chased him 'round her tavern with her ladle after he started a fight. Then we'll see who's scared of whom."

"Really?" She looked at him with interest. "Vanora must be quite a woman."

"Oh she is," Bors smiled proudly. "Just wait until you meet her."

"I look forward to it." Handing the bread to a young lad who looked at her with ill disguised fascination, she turned as Arthur and Tristan walked up behind her.

"Sirs." She bobbed a curtsey to them.

"Llynya." The big Roman smiled at her warmly. "You are well I trust?"

"Very well, thank-you sir." She resisted a grin as Tristan gave a slight incline of his head towards her. She had learnt by now that the scout was not the most demonstrative of creatures. "It is pleasant to walk around without fear of being pounced upon is it not?"

"Indeed." Arthur laughed and watched as Tristan's hawk swooped down and settled upon his shoulder. "It seems that even Sky is looking forward to the feast."

Llynya smiled, and after asking permission, stroked the silky feathers of the bird's breast. "Given that there are half a dozen children watching her with fascination, I imagine that she will be a popular guest."

Tristan's mouth twitched in a faint smile, and Llynya stepped back. "Have you seen Gawain?" She looked at the two men with a mischievousness that she certainly wouldn't have dared a week ago. "Cinnea was threatening him with a bath - I am eager to know if he survived it."

Arthur laughed. "Look behind you. He is clean, but perhaps not in the best of tempers."

Llynya turned and could not help but grin as Gawain walked towards them. His hair gleamed gold and silky in the afternoon sunlight, his clothes mended and still a little damp from being washed. Running his eyes over her appreciatively he smiled.

"Beautiful."

She blushed and made a joke of the compliment. "Ah, you are far prettier than I am." Reaching out to touch a lock of his hair, she shook her head in warning. "Be careful that Louisa does not try and recruit you as a serving wench."

Arthur laughed and clapped his knight on the shoulder as he passed. "Save it for later, the feast is about to begin."

Accepting Gawain's offered arm, Llynya allowed him to lead her to the meadow where several big tables had been laden with food, and already swarmed with villagers. Sitting down next to the other knights, they were the source of open fascination to several of the younger children, much to Llynya's embarrassment and Gawain's amusement.

A red-haired man that Llynya vaguely remembered from her time hiding in the barn stood up and motioned for silence. After thanking the knights and their friends for ridding the village of the beast, he made a short speech conveying his hope that the people of Avebury might now look upon a brighter future. There was a moments silence for those that had lost their lives to Tauleas and the beast, candles lit upon the graves and glowing brightly in the dusk. Llynya grabbed Gawain's hand as a shy looking girl with a sweet clear voice sang a lament to those lost, and bit back her tears. Some people were crying openly, and it was several moments before the speech was resumed by the man who Llynya discovered went by the name of Aldred. Although fairly young, he spoke with conviction and hope, and was obviously respected by his peers. This then must be Dynadan's successor, Llynya mused. It seemed that the villagers had chosen well.

Clapping along with everyone else at the end of the speech, she laughed as Bors roared his approval, somehow managing to slosh a great deal of ale over Galahad. A nudge against her side made her jump, and turning to speak sharply at the person who had goosed her, she smiled when she found Lark's liquid eyes watching her hopefully.

"Should have known you wouldn't want to miss out on a feast," she muttered to the lurcher, slipping a piece of ham down to her. Tom noticed the gesture and shook his head ruefully. Lark was nothing if not persuasive, and she was likely to double her size given the amount of treats that people had already given her. Llynya saw him roll his eyes and shrugged innocently. Tonight was a night to forget the horrors of the past few days and celebrate the village's new freedom. In the morning the knights would leave and she would ride with them. It was not only the village that faced a new future. Taking a gulp of wine, she looked at the people lit by the braziers and their own hope and happiness. She would enjoy this celebration, and feeling Gawain brush his lips against her neck, she was fairly certain that she would enjoy the night as well.

A/N Only one more chapter left to go! A bit of a lighter chapter this - what can I say? Much as I adore Gawain, he does look like he needs a good bath lol! Thank-you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter - I feel very lucky to have such lovely readers. Phia - in answer to your question, I have no plans for a sequel to this story at present (although I don't mind anyone using Llynya's character as long as they ask first). If I write any more KA fics then she might make an appearance as a back-ground character - I've got an idea for a continuation of "Fortune and Pheasants" and she'll almost certainly be a part of that, but it'll be a while coming I'm afraid. Thanks for your continued support and encouragement.