Disclaimer: As before please, for the love of God, don't keep making me write it out people:O) The tie that binds' and 'to cut the pain' that Lancelot carries out are actually true customs carried out in some Celtic and other similar traditions. Odell, Amila, Ivo, Ela, Jarlath and Thurston are all 13th C. names – but again thought they would work well here.

All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.

'Thoughts'

"Speech"

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KING ARTHUR:

Fallen Knights Return

Chapter Fifteen – New Day

She spent the night curled in Tristan's arms – feeling safest there. She still felt that she had let herself down, by allowing her need for revenge to take control; but was thankful the knights did not feel the same.

They'd dismissed it as no more than a warrior's right. As to her treatment that brought her to such rage, they accepted and ignored it. It did not change the way they felt about her, in fact it explained much about the woman they loved; showed her strength and quiet determination to survive, when many would have been crushed under such abuse.

She looked across at Tristan's sleeping face. His features were relaxed, and he looked a lot younger than his actual years. She was so thankful that he had accepted her still, loved her as much despite…..everything; had he not proved that this night?

She smiled at the memory of their lovemaking, he was always so gentle; but tonight he was so compassionate as if he was trying to erase all she had suffered. She reached up to stroke his cheek, his eyes opened.

"Are you always such a light sleeper?"

"Aye, being alert is the best way to stay alive…"

"I'm hardly about to kill you..."

"Not with a dagger mayhap…."

"How then?"

He kissed her deeply, his hands straying over her body –instinctively knowing how to arouse her – "exhaustion..." he smiled slowly, sleep still in his eyes. She went to tug one of his plaits, but he pinned her arm to her side "love me…."

"You know I do Tristan…" she nuzzled his cheek "more than my own life, more than my heart and soul. I belong to you…." She wound her fingers in his hair and stared deeply into his brown eyes, this one person she was not afraid to make eye contact with.

He knew why now - in the darkness she had whispered her secret fears; how she had refused to look at her abusers, a way of shutting off what was happening to her. The whispered confessions had only served to bring them closer, if that were possible.

She leant her forehead against his, as Bethan often did, and he remembered what she had told him about that – souls kissing….he caressed her face. She rubbed her thumbs over the tattoos on his cheeks. They moved in perfect symmetry, one complimenting the other….

"There's naught I can say to express what I feel in here" she touched her chest over her heart. "But tis so much more than you could ever imagine…" she got no further as he smothered her mouth with a deep kiss.

The night was a long one…..but one filled with love.

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As the dawn of a new day broke, Lancelot shifted uncomfortably in the chair; he leant over and touched Alima's face – her fever had not worsened, which was a good sign.

He was concerned for the woman, and he hardly knew her. He was gaining some comprehension of the torment Tristan had gone through to save Sandrina, a woman he loved so deeply.

Guinevere entered the room; Lancelot sighed 'would she not give him any peace?'

"How does she fare?"

"She fares well, my lady, her fever has not worsened – we may save her yet." His voice held sarcasm; his only defence against her was to fight.

"Why do you speak so harshly Lancelot – are we not friends?"

"NAY!" anger flashed in his eyes, trying to regain control of his temper he lowered his voice "Nay, we are not and well you know the reason…why do you torment me! You know, as well as I, what Sandrina fears!

She holds me high for my honour; because I resist you - I will not let her down.

I will not subject my sister to a task she fears so much, because you cannot control yourself my Queen! She has a great fear of the consequences should we betray Arthur!"

Guinevere flinched at his words "I have control of my feelings Lancelot – that is why I wish to be friends." She said coldly.

"There will be no friendship for us for a long time to come - you know that as well as I; now go…go to your husbandmy best friend, my brother -and leave me here to tend this woman!

Leave me! Leave me in….peace!" The last word came out almost as a plea, and Guinevere left, tears welling in her eyes – knowing he was right. But could they continue to fight their feelings?

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San woke quietly and tried to look at Tristan, she loved watching him sleep but rarely got the opportunity – he either woke as soon as she moved or was gone to scout for Arthur.

Today was the latter, she moved over to where he slept in the small bed – she breathed deeply into the wadded pillow, catching his scent as if he were still there with her…."be safe". She hugged the pillow and was about to drift off to sleep again, when she was aware of someone by the door.

She opened her eyes to see Dagonet there "San, we need to check on Alima".

She rose quickly – feeling hot, but knowing she had no time to bathe "Dag, wait one moment- I need to wet my hair." She indicated the tangled blond mess; smiling as to how it got so knotty.

As she came out of the room tying it back, Dagonet looked confused "Did you not bathe last night?"

"Aye."

"Why would you need to wet your hair this morning then?"

"I got hot and sticky - it was a mess and I need to be able tie it back so I can deal with Alima".

"Why would you get hot and sticky if…? OH! Ohhh!" He blushed.

She laughed out loud, and kissed his cheek "Dagonet, you are beyond price to me!"

As they walked to Alima's room, they bumped into Gawain and Galahad. "Why have you wet your hair? " Asked Galahad.

"Did you not bathe last night?" from Gawain.

"She got hot and sticky…" offered Dagonet, raising his eyebrows…….

…..realisation dawned amid two cheeky grins "Ohhhhh…"

San rolled her eyes "Next time I'm rising before anyone else!"

They passed Guinevere leaving Lancelot's room, who shot San a guilty look that made her heart swim uncomfortably. She knew Lancelot would fight his feelings, but Guinevere was being cruel to torment him so.

Anger rose unbidden "Guinevere, a word please!" she waved Dagonet and the others on "I'll not tarry long; go to Alima I will follow."

As soon as the men were out of earshot, Guinevere turned haughtily to Sandrina "You wish to speak to me?"

"Why do you insist on plaguing him so!"

The other woman faltered "I do not; I only wish him as a friend….I…"

"You cannot be friends Guinevere! Please, I ask you again; let sanity guide your reason - I will fulfil my task if I have to, and you are the one that will carry the consequences!"

The other woman blanched "I…I understand; but it is…so difficult…"

Sandrina sighed "I know, truly I do…I would hate to be without Tristan. But you must do this, not just for yourself and Lancelot – but for the good of all Briton."

Tears filled Guinevere's eyes "You give good counsel San. I only wish I had your strength…."

San's eyebrows flew heavenward "Strength! After I weakened to my own bloodlust yesterday? Allowed the need for revenge to better me!" she laughed mirthlessly "Nay, it is because of my weakness Guinevere that I counsel you, do not fall foul of yours as I did mine."

Guinevere touched her arm "You are a good friend to me, and sister to Lancelot. I believe you stronger than you do yourself - after all you are a knight now!" she decided to try and lighten the mood "Lady Sandrina! Arthur would not have taken that decision lightly…"

"Oh, do not remind me!" San followed her lead "Me, a Lady! I think not!" she laughed. "But at least I can ride into battle now - without worry of being told off!" Her eyes wandered over the gallery and out across the wall.

"You miss him…."

"Aye, I miss him – it is as if half my heart is not with me."

Bethan came running with Lucan…"My Queen" she dipped her head.

Guinevere smiled "To you Bethan, I always Guinevere."

"Does she know?" Guinevere asked San.

"Lucan take Bethan to your father for a moment, I wish to speak with Guinevere". San sighed.

"I am sorry, that was thoughtless…"

"Nay, nay – it is alright. No, I haven't said. She thinks him already gone; I love her dearly and have never lied to her, except one time only. I could not tell her the truth that she was a child of rape, so I told her her father was someone imprisoned with me; that he died bravely…." San sighed. "She accepted it, and now she has Tristan. She loves him as much any child could love a father, and I think he loves her like his own…"

"You did right by her San, never doubt it – the truth would have been a heavy burden for even a child such as Bethan…"

"Did I tell you Ivo and Ela have been taken?" the other woman suddenly changed the subject; and Guinevere realised none would ever judge San as harshly on those actions as she did herself "Thurstan from the Smithy has decided to adopt them; I think he hopes to encourage Lynette to wed him" she chuckled at Guinevere's questioning look "by showing how good a father he can be! He is so good with them, though; they are very happy."

"So how many have you left now?"

"Just Bethan…and Lucan; sometimes I wonder if Dag or Merlin accidentally stitched them together, for you never look for one without finding the other!"

"A match?"

"Tristan thinks so! It would be a good one, they have good hearts. I would not be unhappy if she chose the boy."

Dag's head appeared round the door "San?"

"I am coming…"

Guinevere touched her arm "My friend?"

"Always…"

"Remain watchful; we will still have need of you to keep us alert to the folly for a while yet."

"But you try - and trying usually brings success. Until then, I will remain by both your sides…"

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San entered the room, her heart went out to the man sat by the bed – anguished eyes turned to her. She went to his side and hugged him tight.

He held her close, his head buried in her stomach. "It is hard San, so hard to do…"

"But you succeed brother, and I am always with you; I will never forsake my blood."

The other knights stood quietly confused. Not sure why Lancelot was so distressed – maybe it was the woman in the bed before him; but that was unlikely as he hardly knew her. Whatever it was they weren't too concerned as they knew San would help him, and put things right as she always did.

Dagonet had his suspicions, but did not voice them; knowing San would not tell him unless she needed his help – and content to let her deal with it until then.

She drew back, aware of the confusion of the other nights "One night without sleep brother, and you have me nursing you like a babe!" she laughed.

Lancelot released her and looked at the other knights, falling back into their easy banter "Aye, Sister – still I did not have the reasons you did to stay up half the night; is that not why your hair is wet, the need to wash the sweat out! It was a warm night, and your room was warmer still I'll wager!"

She blushed hard, and punched his arm "Lancelot! I am shocked at your forwardness!" her voice was light with merriment "But you are quite right!" and set them off into peals of laughter.

"How fares she?"

"Her fever is not worsening; yours was still rising at this point".

"Well then, that is a good sign. We may yet prevail; I am pleased – she is a good woman, and I could see us becoming firm friends."

She looked at the fabric around their wrists joining them together, and smiled. "I see you carried out 'the tie that binds'? You do know what you have done?"

"Tried to save her only." He dismissed gallantly.

"Nay, you have tied her soul to yours…."

"So? Once she is well……"

San shook her head, smirking "Oh, it is not that simple, dear brother. You two will find yourselves tied to each other now…..I hope you can get along, you will find yourself strangely attached in future……"

Lancelot's eyes widened "But I didn't…..I mean that wasn't….. Tristan did it for you!"

She laughed "Aye I know Tristan took that step with me, but he is my heart – we love each other more than anyone can know or understand…."

"They are so happy together; he loves Mama so much - and he is nice and he makes me laugh..." Bethan smiled.

"Does he? Tristan, does this? Is this the same scout we know?" Galahad queried, never knowing his friend to be 'nice' and to make a child laugh deliberately.

"Of course it's the same one; how many Tristan's are there!" Bethan was indignant.

"I am sorry my lady, I did not mean to offend." Galahad bowed low, in mock sorrow.

He was greeted with a smile and a snort of derision and held her head high "I am no lady Galahad! I am as my mother….a Woad and a Sarmatian - and one day I will be a knight like my father."

Sandrina was tending to Alima and went still, as did everyone in the room.

"Your father?" a voice from the door spoke. All eyes turned to meet emotionless chocolate brown ones.

Bethan walked to him resolutely "Aye, for that is what you are to me Tristan - I will call you father from this day. I know you own my mother's heart, and I speak true when I say you own mine too. You are more to me than aught else, except she and Lucan."

For a moment Tristan went very still, brown eyes held blue ones "so be it….daughter." and he left. All eyes swivelled to San.

She followed him "Tristan? Did she offend?"

Calm eyes swung to hers "Nay, she honoured me."

Bethan came out then "Did I err?"

Tristan never spoke, but knelt down and held out his arms – Bethan flew into them. The embrace showed she had been right.

San walked over as he stood, his arms went round them both "I missed you…."

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Fate's game slowly playing out; the wheels of Destiny turn on….