Thanks for the reviews, I love them!

Now, if you haven't seen the movie King Arthur, I suggest you do so, because it can ge quite confusing... and not to mention it's brilliant. xD

Chapter Three

As the sun was about an hour off dawning the next day, Hermione was awoken rather roughly from her sleep. "Wakey, wakey, my lady." Was whispered in her ear. She jolted out of her slumber and sat bolt upright.

"What?" She asked testily. "What do you want?" She glared at the face of Bors, nice and chipper in the morning.

"Just thought you might want to go have a wash before we wake up the Bishop's Lackey is all." He said, untying her arm. Hermione smiled at him and he gave her a toothy grin. "Don't be too long, though, Lass. You've got about half an hour." He encouraged, pointing the way quietly out of the clearing and through the woods.

She found a running stream, which was deep enough to bathe in and stripped off after looking around for anyone who wanted to take a little peek. She hung her donated dress on a nearby branch and stepped in, regretting it immediately. "Oh God, that's cold!" She squeaked to herself.

She quickly washed herself, wanting to get out of the icy water as soon as possible and dried herself off, before slipping back into her clothing. As she walked back through the forest, she noticed the sun peaking through the trees and quickened her pace.

However, as she reached the edge of the trees, a hand stopped her, spinning her quickly and pinning her against a large tree, making sure to cover her mouth and stifle the very loud scream waiting at her lips.

"Hush," he said gently. It was Galahad, his dark curls in an even messier array than she had seen. Hermione guessed it was from sleep. "You cannot go back alone. The Bishop's man woke a little earlier than scheduled." He said, taking his hand off her mouth and letting her free from his strong hold, while she tried to ignore the soothing feel of his hard calloused hands.

She scowled toward the clearing. "Why can't we just tell him? It would be so much easier."

He raised an eyebrow at her and leant against the nearest tree casually. "Yes... until we made it to the nearest town. And then he'd start back exactly where the Bishop left off." He crossed his hands across his chest and smiled.

Hermione sighed and held out her wrist, ready for the tying. Out of nowhere, it seemed, Galahad pulled out a strip of rope, tying it around her wrist. She grimaced as it began rubbing against her already sore skin. "Can we not just knock him out for the remainder of the journey?" She grumbled, earning a chuckle from her 'captor'.

"There you are! I was beginning to think you had run away with the Woad." Horton said as they entered the clearing.

Hermione rolled her eyes as Galahad tied her to her horse after she had mounted shakily. They cautiously rode into the forest, Lancelot and Arthur in the lead, whilst Tristan sent out his bird.

"We ride quietly." Arthur instructed, signalling for them to move on. Hermione sighed silently to herself, her shoulders slumping.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a sharp tingle shot through her body and she gasped. There was powerful magic here. The Knights looked at her questioningly, while Horton looked at her with disgust. "Sorry, being this close to home is..." She acted out.

Arthur shook his head and the continued through the forest for a couple of hours. Until the first barbed arrow was shot. It landed in front of Arthur's steed, sending it into a flurry of panic. The knights took hold of their horses and galloped for an alternate route, arrows pulling barbed wire cutting their escape off.

Hermione's horse bucked in fright as an arrow went past its nose. She pulled hard on the reins only to panic the horse more. She screamed as the horse stood on its hind legs before speeding off into the forest, followed by more arrows.

Her grip on the reins slipped and she clung to the rope that held her wrists, her legs tensed to the body of the horse. She dodged an arrow to her head by slipping down further, putting more strain on the ropes holding her on the horse. So it was no wonder that the ropes snapped and she fell from her horse, landing with a thud on the ground, not knowing where she was.

This place just keeps getting better, she thought bitterly as she was quickly surrounded by men with bows and arrows and swords in their hands, covered in some kind of blue paint. These, she guessed, were Woads.

"Please, I don't mean you any harm." She said loudly, holding her hands up in surrender. In the background she heard a distinct horn sound off. The Woads looked to each other, their eyes questioning. Slowly and gracefully, they lowered their weapons and disappeared into the forest.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders slumping as she looked around. She was amongst tall trees, which appeared to go on for miles, brushing the clouds. "Bullocks." She said simply, plopping down on a tree root. She looked at her wrists and pulled the remaining rope off, wincing at the lacerations they had left.

The sound of hooves startled her into standing, looking around wildly. Quickly she clambered up a tree, scowling as her dress got caught on various branches. The sound got closer and she nearly screamed as a rider on a horse suddenly appeared directly beneath her.

"Oh thank God." She whispered as she recognised Galahad's head of curly locks. He chose this moment to look up.

He jumped at the sight of a girl in a tree and raised his sword in defence, before taking a closer look at her face. "Oh, it's you. What're you doing up there?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione blushed. "Well... I was – err, hiding." She said. "Now, if you don't mind, how do I get down?" She squeaked, looking down at the branches she had managed to leave skin on.

He gave a chuckle and dismounted, circling the tree for a safer way. He shook his head, not finding one. "You can either climb down the way you got up," She shook her head vigorously. "Or you can jump and I'll catch you. Don't worry; I'm quite good at this rescue thing."

Hermione bit her lip, looking at the cuts and scrapes up her arms and legs. Galahad was trustworthy. He was strong and probably able to catch her. "I'll jump on the count of three." He nodded, getting into position, holding his arms out. "One," she clambered near the edge of a particularly thick branch. "Two," She stood as high as she dared. "Three." She jumped, landing in his arms and sending them both toward the ground, landing with a thud and identical 'oomph's.

"Ouch." Galahad groaned, opening his eyes to find Hermione staring at him, her cheeks red. Their eyes met – green on honey brown. Her hair was tickling his face and she could feel his warm breath on her lips.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" Hermione said, pushing herself off him, though she missed the heat of his body. She held out his hand for him. He grabbed it and hauled himself up, 'forgetting' to let go for an instant.

Galahad touched her cheek, wiping the blood from a seeping cut. "We'd better get you cleaned up, I suppose."

"No." He looked at her surprised. "No, I'm not going back there." She said, stepping away. "I'm not going back with you only to be tied to a horse – which could potentially break or cut off my hands – just because some bishop's lackey wants to feel safe. I won't go back to that. It's bad enough I was hunted back home during the wars –"

"What wars? Who would hunt you?" He asked curiously.

"Don't worry about it. The point is that I'm not going with you." She said, crossing her arms across her chest, and looking quite like a child.

Galahad let out a bark of laughter. "So you'd rather I let the Woads get you?" He said, laughing again as she scowled at him. "I think maybe you should just get on the horse, so we can go and find the others and maybe even get out of this forest."

"No." Hermione persisted, watching him as he rolled his eyes.

"Fine." He said, mounting swiftly. Galahad looked down at her one more time, before riding past her. He turned again and rode past he again, this time hooking an arm around her waist from behind and pulling her onto the horse, despite her yells of protest.

"You bloody git! You let me get eaten alive by Woads right NOW!" She screamed, as he rode through the trees, her back on his lap. "I am NOT a damsel in distress you prat!" She yelled, though she clung to his clothes as he dodged tree after tree.

By the time they made it out of the forest, it was becoming dark, and the other knights were setting up camp about half an hour's ride from the edge of the forest. When they arrived, Hermione was exhausted.

"There you are! Been waiting for you to come back and pull your own weight, Galahad!" Bors all but roared. He helped Hermione down from the horse, earning a disapproving look from Horton. "Where's your horse, lass?"

She flushed. "Well, it panicked and I fell off. Look at what your damned ropes did to my wrists!" She marched up to Horton and shoved her wrist in his face.

He stepped back in fright. "Restrain this thing!" He shouted, his hands up in defence.

"I am not a thing! I am a human being!" Hermione raged as Lancelot took it upon himself to throw her over his shoulder and cart her away.

"Come, we must pray." Arthur said, leading Horton away.

Lancelot placed Hermione on the ground and smirked. "You're a fiery one." He ruffled her hair, messing her curls. She scowled at him and he laughed.

She sighed and sat down, rubbing her wrists. "Bloody men. They all think they're gifted. Think they can do everything. Well, they'll learn. Give them a few hundred years, and they'll know how much a woman is worth." She grumbled, only to jump when someone sat down next to her swiftly.

He took her tender wrists in his hand and massaged the red lacerations. "I'm surprised nothing's broken." Galahad said. "But you're a tough girl. A few more nights with the rope won't hurt." He pulled some rope from his pocket and tied her to another stray tree. She whimpered. "I'm sorry." He said softly, planting a kiss on each wrist.

Her face reddened, but the darkness kept it out of view. She said nothing as he stood up and went over to his own blankets, throwing her another one. Wrapping the blanket around her, Hermione prepared for another night amongst Legends.

Unbeknownst to her, Lancelot, Gawain and Tristan stood further away, their eyes flickering between the figure of Galahad, busying himself with watching the stars; and the lone figure of a girl lying next to a tree, one arm slightly raised to meet the trunk it was tied to. Small smiles spread across their faces.