A/N: And yet another chapter appears, I must say I'm quite proud of myself. So, my reviewers and readers, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I had computer troubles tonight as I was finishing it and my laptop erased over 300 words which I then had to re-write. I was most put out. So enjoy!

Oh and a comment made more then once, so I thought I'd address the issue here – Bors might appear a tad violent in chapter previous. Let me assure you, if he hadn't been drunk he'd have most probably taken it as a joke. As it so happens, he was so drunk that he couldn't take any type of joke. I like the thought that Bors can get exceptionally drunk. Like he did in the previous chapter.

DirrtyXtina87: hope you enjoy this chapter by the way xD Lancelot? Bruised in the morning? What a positively delightful notion. And then as Bors would be less drunk – okay maybe still nursing a hangover – he could make positively evil comments as to what Lancelot was doing the previous night. Mwahhahaha the endless possibilities. Quite evil. Lancelot will help Honor…eventually. First though, I feel an air of angst coming…

FFAMasquerade2005: oh good, I'm so glad you enjoyed that chapter. I hope you enjoy this one immensely, and that it pleases you xD and I'm aiming to get the next chapter up in two days xD

Wanderer of the Roads: oh no, it's you again xD fiiiiine, Tristan's spiffeh line is dedicated to you. Do you want me to add a special a/n at the top of next chapter to say that? xDDDDD mm, I'd agree with that. You are addicted to Tristan. And Lancelot. I'm thinking, due to the fact that there are so many Lancelot romances about, that this story will remain father-daughter, brother-sister. I might get around to posting a Lancelot romance dedicated to you, if you want of course xD one will find more out about Honor in due course…after a little bit of angst. I'm thinking of adding some xD Bliss it would be indeed. Next term, I'm going to be heavenly busy due to exams. So I have no idea how much time I'll get to write. Fingers crossed of course. I mean to update on Sunday (two days away) due the fact I got a free ticket from dance teacher to go and see the Sleeping Beauty – ballet of course xD you should buy Tristan and Lancelot posters indeed! And hang them up xDDDD your rant pro'ly was longer by far. Oh well, my next review to whichever story you update will be longer again xD Economics? Oh, hope it goes well (although it's pro'ly already been and gone xD) huggled huggles back tell Tristan I say hi, and I hope he's enjoying his holiday with you xD oho! That's were Lanceh got too. And pray tell me my dear, how exactly is he helping you with your homework? Is he giving you inspiration? xDDD ciao for now, and I expect a chapter from you. Now. Grins insanely I'll be a-talking with you soon indeed xD

Camlann: welcome to the mental hospital where all your fantasies about the knights can come true xDDD I plan on putting some more Gawain humour into the story soon….probably next chapter in fact xD I hope you're enjoying the story even now xD ooh and if you're referring to Bors' temperament in the previous chapter, he was only that way due to his drunken state of mind and being xD glad you like the story, and hope this pleases xD

Gwenn0: jealous…not overly. Just very, very, very drunk. I'll take the credit, and with pleasure xD I hope you enjoy this chapter as far as the Lancelot/Honor situation is concerned…they all will eventually learn Honor's history...but it will take time. A lot of time. xD hope this pleases and thankies kindly for your words xDDDDD

Lancelot followed Vanora into the chambers, of which he was master. He drew in a sharp breath as he walked in the doorway.

Vanora looked at him. Perhaps Honor was what he needed – to prove himself worthy of being a father figure, or at least, a knight that took his duty and fulfilled it.

"I leave you be with her," Vanora said softly.

Lancelot smiled in thanks and waited until Vanora had shut the door softly before moving over to the bed.

"Honor," he said softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Unknown to him, it was the exact same position that Vanora had sat in, barely minutes past.

"Honor," he said more loudly, trying to figure out why he had earned no acknowledgement from the still length of body that had made his bed her home.

Still no response.

"I can't help you if you don't let me, you know," Lancelot said quietly.

"Meaning you would abandon me at the first opportunity possible," Honor's eyes opened and she stared at him.

"No Honor, I will never abandon you, I swear. I know that yo fear what has happened to you, and what could happen to you in the future. Take the knowledge that I would never willingly let anything happen to you that you would not like. I will protect you, to my death, as would the other knights," Lancelot said, staring into the shiny grey eyes. The grey eyes that looked suspiciously shiny, like they had been swimming in tears a short time past.

"And what happens if you and your friends were to die, trying to protect me? What would happen to me then? Exactly what would have happened, if you had not intervened with fate and brought me here, to this…place," Honor said, levering herself up onto her elbow, wincing in the process.

"You do not believe that we could not protect you, Honor?" Lancelot asked in disbelief. If Honor had no faith in the knights, what faith would she have in anyone or anything?

"I believe that you could, Lancelot. On the other hand though, I do know who you and you friends would have to face and fight, and I can assure you, if you did survive, you would be wishing, every single one of you, that you were dead," Honor said, her hair swinging across her face.

Lancelot could tell that she was starting to become upset on that subject he searched his brain, trying to think of something to say.

"I will leave the matter be Honor, but remember that if you ever need anything, or anyone, I and the knights, and even Guinevere and Vanora, are here for you," Lancelot said, trying to sound final in his words.

Honor met Lancelot's gaze then – grey eyes meeting brown, one pair serious and brooding, the other not quite angry nor upset. To Lancelot's immense surprise, she suddenly dragged her gaze from his, and started following her hands as she fiddled with the edge of the blanket that she was lying on.

"Your hair is lovely," Lancelot started to try a conversation. "Is it black, or a very dark brown like mine?" he pulled a curl of his hair and smiled warmly.

"Neither," she said pulling a bit of it round with one hand – the other still busy folding and unfolding the blanket. "It's actually a brown that is neither light, nor dark and it only shows it's true colouring when it is in the path of sunlight. Also, it only stays its natural colour for around twenty four hours after it has been washed."

"Your hair is lovely," Lancelot repeated.

Idly, one of his hands moved off his knees, to reach up and pull a lone piece of hair that had started to cover Honor's eyes away.

"It feels like silk," he almost gasped.

"I have not felt it this way in a very long time," Honor said, smiling thinly "though I suppose that it can only be expected."

"Why is it to be expected?" Lancelot asked.

"You would not wish to know why, Lancelot. Please do not question me about it," she replied, her gaze once again dropping from his face to the blanket.

"I do, it is the only way I can help you in any way," Lancelot said.

Honor shook her head, a dark cloud of hair fell over her face, but she did nothing to remove it. Lancelot did though, reaching out with both hands he smoothed her hair behind her ears carefully, so as not to inflict pain on the grazes and cuts that were slashed across Honor's face and neck.

"Honor," he began, lifting her chin so she was looking him in the eye. He stopped, once he realised that her eyes were swimming with tears. "Gods, I'm sorry."

"It has nothing to do with you," Honor said fiercely, scrubbing her hand quickly over her eyes, and blinked quickly, as if trying to get rid of any mere hint of the fact that she had been about to cry. "It is just my weakness."

"Weakness?" Lancelot looked at her, puzzled.

"It's because of them," was Honor's only offer of explanation.

"Them?"

Honor shook her head. "Worry not. Perhaps, I shall tell you some other time."

Lancelot nodded slowly, realising that Honor had no wish to talk about whatever was troubling her, and she equally did not wish to talk about her past. Lancelot made a vow at that instant, a silent vow, that whatever happened, he would protect Honor even if it cost him his life. He had promised her, but occasionally he had broken promises, usually for some just cause, but a vow? A vow was different. It was something that you would not back out of, whether or not you wished to.

"Perhaps, you will be well enough soon to come and dine with the other knights and myself, one night soon," he offered, smiling.

"That would be an honour for me," Honor nodded slowly.

"I hold you to your word my lady," Lancelot stood up and bowed.

Honor smiled, a small smile, but it can be documented that it was a proper smile.

"Now, are you hungry my dear?" Lancelot stood up straight again.

Honor shrugged. "A bit, although Lancelot, I am not used to eating much as I have not eaten a proper meal in months."

"Aha! But, you have not tasted any of Vanora's cooking. I will send for a servant directly and have her let Vanora know that you are hungry," Lancelot bowed again, his eyes twinkling.

"I will eat a bit, but only good sir, if you would dine with me," Honor said, bowing her head in a ladylike fashion.

"I would be honoured my lady," Lancelot brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

Honor stared at him in partial amazement.

"I will return!" Lancelot cried gallantly, smirking at the expression on Honor's face.

Having thrown another blanket over Honor's thin body, Lancelot nearly ran out the door. Shutting it softly, he bit his lip. Even though he was known as the womanizing knight that cared only for fighting, drinking, women and his bond of brotherhood with the other knights, he cared for much more then that, although if Bors knew, Lancelot would be instantly teased for as long as Bors and he were in a hundred miles of one another. Vanora and Arthur would have to be the only two people who really understood Lancelot for what he truly was. He would do anything to protect Vanora, Honor, the bastards, and even Guinevere.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. His role was definitely changing. Shrugging his shoulders, he strode away quickly to seek out either Vanora, or one of the maids to tell Vanora that she was required.