Disclaimer: I do not own King Arthur or his Knights…sadly…

Author Note: Thank you for the reviews and I should have the next chapter posted by Tuesday, if you're lucky Monday. I am holding a poll, which knight will win fair ladies heart?

Knightmaiden: thank you for your reviews! You rock. And did you know there is a Tristan movie coming out? Anyway, I was reading your fanfictions today...and I might have an idea. So far I have one vote for Tristan romance and one vote for anyone but Arthur…hmm…I will keep the poll going.

Shtoofi: Thank you for the reviews and keep reading my story. You know you should write some fanfictions also!

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"You kept her alive!" screamed the angered Sarmatian "she nearly kills both you and Tristan and you bring her here to mend her wounds. She's a Saxon Arthur. Cedric's daughter!"

Arthur's green eyes roamed the female Saxons figure, covered by large furs; she looked almost small and delicate. Arthur's mind once again flashed with visions from yesterday's battle. She was not delicate or small. In fact she was one of the least fragile women he had ever met. "Lower your voice Galahad. This is not the time or the place for angry words. I brought her back for the simple reason that she did not kill either myself or Tristan. She had opportunity and motivation, I am lucky to be breathing now."

"You can't be serious Arthur, she is a Saxon have you not listened to anything I have said?" cried Galahad. His face turning red as his teeth ground together.

"Leave Galahad and check on Lancelot. Our discussion ends here," Arthur's voice was thin with frustration as he watched Galahad's angry form retreating through the doorway. Groaning he took a seat at the end of the bed, looking once more at its inhabitant, "Now what will I do with you?"

Pain, lots of pain, was among the first thoughts that registered to R'han as she shifted slightly in the soft bed. Her eyes peeling open quickly as she acknowledged her unknown surroundings slowly. Her throat was dry and her mouth felt like she had drank from the suns core. Her eyes blinded by the sunlight from the window, closed once more, not seeing the figure standing by her bed.

"You're awake," spoke a male voice. It was old and husky and sounded as if the person had been screaming for to long. R'han coughed and lifted slightly when the owner of the voice drew forth something smooth and metal to her lips. Cool liquid began to burn her throat as the cup was tilted back. A strong hand holding her weak and heavy head up.

R'han opened her eyes her gaze falling upon an older man painted with blue and green. Woads. R'han began struggling; spitting the liquid out as if it was poisoned. Seeing her distrust the old Woad spoke softly, a calming wave emanating from his very being. "Calm yourself R'han, there is no need for resistance. We are here to help you."

The room began to swim with mixed colors, closing her eyes; R'han was able to once again stop the dizziness that plagued her. "Kill me now Woad because when I am well I will not hesitate to kill you."

There was a deep chuckle from the figure and R'han, if possible would have grasped her head in pain at its loudness. Fate was never without her irony, as a loud crash sounded from the hall. A string of curses following it before the door swung open. At the sound of the noise R'han sat up quickly, her eyes widening from fear to pain as her stitches were ripped. The white furs stained. She became dizzy once more and silently cursed herself for sitting up.

The Woad looked to the intruder with great annoyance, "Go get Guinevere, she needs to stitch the wound once more." The young Woad nodded quickly and scrambled out the doorway Merlin's order repeating in his head.

R'han closed her eyes once more lying back slowly wincing with the pain. Sounds became muffled, distant. The same deep old voice spoke once more, "The time for you is near R'han, will you fight or run?"