Okay, first i have to say a huge thankyou to all of my reviewers, without you all this story would never have been written.

Also,I have to say sorry for being so slow to update, but I just got a new puppy and she keeps me busy 24/7. although she is adorable and very cute, I spend a lot of time running around making sure she doesn't chew anything dangerous - especially not electrical cords, which is why I haven't been able to get near a computer for so long.

This chapter is slow, but i need it because yet more accidents happen in the next couple of ones. enough rambling from me, enjoy and please review!

I was woken by someone touching my shoulder. My instinctive reaction was to bite, but when I saw that it was Arthur I checked myself before I hurt him.

'We're taking Tristan back to the fort,' he said softly.

I clicked my beak to show that I had understood him and watched as Tristan was lifted onto his horse. He was still pale and unconscious. I flew above them as they made their slow way back to the fort, all of the time swooping low to check on Tristan before soaring back up again.

It was late at night when we finally got back. Vanora had prepared his room and Tristan was carried upstairs by Bors and Dagonet. I perched on the back of a chair, watching as Dagonet bound up the last of his wounds.

'He should make it,' his quiet voice was full of relief. 'Leave him to sleep, he should wake before morning.'

Arthur nodded, relief plainly written on his face. Gawain sighed heavily and leant against the wall with a ghost of a smile.

'He's a tough old thing,' he said tiredly. 'It'll take more than another Saxon to finish him.'

Galahad snorted. 'Don't let him hear that, he'll skin you alive.'

Bors laughed and Dagonet ushered them all out of the door. Vanora, who had been at the back of the room, came forward to where I was perched, watching Tristan.

'Do you want to stay here?' she asked, her eyes soft with understanding.

I clicked my beak, and she smiled. She nodded to me, blew out the last candle and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

I studied Tristan. He didn't look good – he was pale and still shivering slightly. But I trusted Dagonet – I knew that he would do everything he could to save his fellow knight's life.

The room was completely dark, only the pale light from the moon and stars relieved the darkness. I still couldn't quite believe what had happened. For days I had tried to forget Tristan, but he was about as forgettable as a flying pig.

And now he had admitted that he was wrong, that he wanted me to stay with him. I could see the deep cut on his jaw where I had bitten him; he hadn't objected, he had said that he had missed me.

And yes, I loved him. I hadn't admitted it before, not even to myself, but I did. All those hours of watching him, being with him – and I had fallen in love. It wasn't a passing crush – I knew him better than anyone else did, and I think that he knew me to a certain degree as well.

But I wasn't about to tell him that. I tucked my head under my wing and went to sleep.

I woke suddenly, feeling something touch my head. I opened my beak to bite, saw it was Tristan, and closed it again. He smiled.

'Jumpy, aren't you?'

Its been three days since I found Tristan in the forest. With Dagonet's healing, he had recovered well, although he still wasn't completely back to health.

I had fallen asleep in Tristan's room around midday after he had taken me hunting.

'Can you turn back into a human?' he asked.

I glared at him and clicked my beak before jerking my head towards the door. He understood what I meant and chuckled.

'Yes, I know you're naked when you shape-change. I saw it once before, remember?'

He was teasing me – only with me did he lose his quiet air, become talkative. I bit him hard on the finger and he rolled his eyes.

'Oh, alright,' he muttered. 'I'll ask Vanora to bring you some clothes.'

He was true to his word, and Vanora soon arrived with the same dress I had worn before. I found that changing back to human was a lot easier this time, and I was soon clothed.

'You know, I'm glad you're back,' Vanora said, smiling as she combed my hair. 'I missed you, and also Tristan was in a foul mood.'

'Really?' I asked, raising an eyebrow at the mirror as I watched Vanora carefully untangle my hair.

Vanora nodded. 'He scowled all the time, snarled at anyone who got in his way, was moody and completely unbearable. I think he felt guilty.'

Again I raised an eyebrow, but this time it was in scepticism. Vanora saw the look and shook her head.

'He truly missed you,' she said. 'I heard him once sigh and mutter "idiot Sarmatian, for once you should've swallowed your pride" to himself. If it hadn't been him who said it, I would have laughed.'

I smiled slightly. 'Good thing you didn't, he probably would have cut out your tongue.'

Vanora laughed and nodded. 'Yes, I don't doubt it.'

She finished combing my hair and helped my up from the chair. She surveyed me critically and smiled.

'You look wonderful in that. Come on, I need a hand in the bar.'

I followed her down to the tavern, feeling happier still – the kind of happiness that makes you giddy and you have to make sure you don't start grinning idiotically at nothing.

The tavern was crowded already, smoky and loud. The sky outside was darkest blue as the sun set in the west. Vanora steered me to the bar and handed me a jug and three cups piled one on top of the other.

'Take that to the knights,' she said briskly. 'Then come back and get these.'

She piled more cups on the bench as I left, winding my way through the other patrons. Almost all were men, except for the serving maids and the bar wenches.

I put the wine jug and the cups on the table where the knights were seated. Lancelot was involved in an argument with Galahad, although that didn't distract the youngest knight from pulling a wench down onto his lap.

Tristan, I noticed, was leaning back in the shadows at the end of the table. His dark eyes roved around the tavern, met mine, then once again went back to watching the others. Gawain was teasing Bors about Four, who had black hair and brown eyes.

'For the last time,' Bors roared, clearly exasperated but still slightly amused. 'Four is not Lancelot's!'

'Wanna bet?' Gawain asked, catching the eye of a pretty dark-haired girl passing by.

I set the cups down on the table with the wine jug and turned to leave when something pulled me backwards.

'Hello beautiful,' Lancelot's smooth voice purred in my ear. 'You never told me your name.'

I rolled my eyes. His arms were secure around my waist, holding my back as I tried to stand up. He kissed my neck and I elbowed him in the stomach – not hard enough to do anything other than distract him.

'You might not know my name,' I snapped, getting up. 'But I know yours. And your reputation.'

Lancelot looked bewildered as the others laughed. I realised then that he had never met me in human form – he had obviously only just gotten out of the hospital ward. Gawain took pity on his friend and explained.

'This is Aderyn,' he said, still laughing. 'Tristan's hawk. She's a shape shifter.'

Lancelot looked surprised. 'From the description you gave me, I expected her to be older,' he said. 'Although,' he added, the impudent glint back in his eye, 'if you like, I'd be happy to nest with you.'

The knights laughed again, except for Tristan who I noticed had been silent and still throughout the whole encounter. I rolled my eyes again and walked off, not able to think of anything to answer with.

I heard a thud and an "ow!". I turned and found Lancelot rubbing his knee.

'What was that for?' he asked Tristan, who looked the picture of innocence.

'What, me?' Tristan asked, looking surprised. 'It was Galahad. Seriously.'

I could tell that Tristan was lying, but Lancelot was so used to Tristan being serious that he believed the other Sarmatian and turned to Galahad. Lancelot punched him on the arm. Galahad turned, spluttering as he put down his wine cup.

'Why'd you do that?' Galahad yelped, rubbing his arm.

Tristan winked at me as Galahad punched Lancelot back. I grinned and went back to serving at the bar.

The next few days were a happy blur for me. I also became good friends with Vanora and Fulcinia. I was a little reserved with Guinevere (yes, I was jealous) but she was so friendly and nice that eventually I relented.

Suddenly aging like I had took some getting used to – I had to constantly remind myself that I wasn't fourteen any more, I was too young for immature pranks – except for when I put a frog in Lancelot's bed. The yell that came from his room that night was so funny that even Tristan laughed.

Arthur spent several weeks searching for any sign of rebellion or remaining Saxons. Finding none, he married Guinevere and took up the crown of the king.

At the wedding I stood beside Gawain and Galahad. Dagonet and Lancelot stood with Bors, who was holding one of his younger children. Tristan was leaning against one of the stone pillars. To others he might have looked bored and disinterested, but I noticed the way his eyes flicked around over everything and knew that he was enjoying himself, for all that his face remained stony.

'King Arthur!' Merlin shouted, holding his torch aloft.

'Hail Arthur!' the crowd shouted. They knelt, following Merlin's example.

'Let every man, woman and child bear witness,' Arthur said, his clear voice reaching everyone. 'That from this day forward, all Britons will be united in one common cause!'

He drew his sword and held it up. I smiled slightly to myself – I knew how long he had rehearsed that line, getting it right. This was an important time for Arthur – he had to show the other tribes that he was a strong leader who would rule well.

Everyone cheered, chanting Arthur's name. Bors drew his sword.

'Atorius!' he bellowed.

Arthur turned his head to look at him. Bors smiled and held his sword over his heart in a salute. Gawain and Galahad exchanged a smile as Arthur glanced toward us. I bowed my head briefly in salute. Guinevere raised her hand so that she was holding the sword as well.

Arthur signalled to the Woads standing with their bows on the edge of a cliff. They loaded arrows tipped with tar-soaked cloths lighted and bound around the point. They drew their bows, aiming high into the air over the water.

At a signal, they loosed and the arrows flew through the air leaving smoky trails. The crowd continued to chant Arthur's name.

But although everything was fine and happy, I couldn't help but wonder.

I had found that Arthur and his knights were real, that they did in fact exist. Did that mean that the rest of the legend would come true? Would Lancelot still desire Guinevere? Would there be a civil war because of them both?

I looked at Guinevere. She was my friend, but that didn't stop me from seeing the truth. I saw how even though she was in love with Arthur, her eyes couldn't stop from flicking over Lancelot.

Lancelot looked happy for Arthur, but at the same time wistful. I couldn't help but think that things would have been simpler if Lancelot had died at Badon Hill, terrible though his death would have been.

But then Guinevere smiled at Arthur, and there was such a degree of love there that I managed to convince myself that they would stay true to each other.

I glanced at Tristan. He was no longer watching Arthur and Guinevere as they kissed again – he was looking at me. And although I knew him better than anyone else alive, I couldn't read the glance.

I was still smiling as I turned back to Arthur and Guinevere, now stepping down from the altar. But I couldn't shake off the feeling that this happiness wouldn't last long.