Welcome, LEXA14! Thanks for the follow!

I was a little concerned I wouldn't be able to get this chapter out on time this week. My oldest got pink eye, then the youngest got a stomach bug, and both my husband and I have been dealing with a minor cold all week. So basically it's been HELL in this house. Thankfully I got it done, but for the future, just know that if I get swamped by life and can't update on Friday, I will do my absolute best to post the chapter on Saturday instead!

CHAPTER FIVE

Between learning that Arthur had ordered one of his men to follow her, and said man being a complete and utter arse, Breck's anger over the whole situation only grew more and more with each step that took her to Arthur's estate. She paid no mind to the wary looks that people shot in her direction as she stormed her way through town, and completely bypassed two Roman soldiers who just so happened to be loitering outside the estate and seemed to not like the way she let herself in without waiting for permission.

"You there! Halt!"

Breck ignored them and continued on inside, stopping the first servant she crossed paths with. "Where is Lord Arthur?" she demanded.

The servant blinked in surprise, looking from Breck to the Roman soldiers who had followed her inside. "H-he is in his c-council room," the servant said nervously.

"My thanks," Breck said briskly, before continuing on.

"Woman, stop!" one of the guards shouted behind her as they too came inside. "Stop, I said!"

But Breck didn't stop, and instead quickened her pace, traveling the well-known path to Arthur's council room with haste. She reached the doors before the soldiers could reach her, throwing them open with a very loud bang. Arthur and Lancelot, who had been pouring over a map at the Round Table, jumped at the unexpected sound and looked up in surprise.

"Breck?" Arthur asked with a frown, his brows pinching together as he stood. Before she could say anything, the Roman soldiers grabbed her by either arm, their grips hard and rough as they glared at her and prepared to drag her right back out. "Unhand her immediately," Arthur commanded at once.

"My Lord, she entered the estate without – " one of the soldiers began to explain.

"Lady Breck is a friend and is free to come and go as she pleases," Arthur interrupted sternly. "Now release her and leave."

As soon as she felt their grips slacken, Breck roughly pulled her arms free, glaring at both of them as they backed off and left the council room.

"My, my," Lancelot commented, brows lifted with amusement. "You do know how to make an entrance."

Breck ignored him, as did Arthur. "What is wrong?" Arthur asked, taking a step closer. "Has something happened?"

"Would you care to explain why you are having me followed?" Breck demanded bluntly.

Arthur seemed surprised for a moment, then his lips pressed together into a firm line. "I see you have met Tristan then," he said perceptively.

"And what an amiable scout you have under your command," Breck shot back sarcastically.

Arthur, who could very clearly see how upset she was, turned to Lancelot, who was now glancing back and forth between them with growing interest. "Go and collect the men. I shall meet you in the stables shortly," he said, wisely dismissing the man so that he and Breck could have their argument in private.

Lancelot looked rather disappointed that he wouldn't be able to see how the fight panned out, but he nodded and obediently pushed away from the table to leave. Breck scoffed at the wink he gave her when he walked by and turned her attention firmly on her friend.

"Try not to kill one another," Lancelot said in parting, before he shut the doors behind him.

Now that they were alone, Arthur let out a sigh and took a few steps closer.

"I understand it must be…unsettling…to know that someone has been following you," he said calmly. "But I made this order with good reason."

"And what reason was that?" Breck asked, her eyes still narrowed into a glare.

"I asked Tristan to follow you for the time being to ensure that you were adjusting to life at the Wall without any…" Arthur trailed off for a second, as if searching for the right word, "…incidents with the other citizens," he finished.

Without any incidents? Breck's eyes, if possible, narrowed even more. "Lord Uther had me and my father followed when we came to the Wall all those years ago," she reminded him. "Roman soldiers shadowed us for weeks to ensure that us bloodthirsty Saxons did not cause any trouble for the innocent townsfolk. Am I to understand that history is repeating itself?" she demanded. "Do you think my time on the road has robbed me of the ability to socialize normally with others? Do you truly think me that barbaric?"

Arthur immediately sighed at her rash presumptions and shook his head. "No, that is not what I think of you, nor have I ever believed that to be the case," he countered with forced patience. He moved to stand before her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Breck, your presence here has roused quite a bit of interest. You are a new, attractive woman and you have no husband. Perhaps you may turn a blind eye to the way the men here look at you, but I do not," he said matter-of-factly. "I only wanted to ensure that nobody has been acting inappropriately toward you for my own peace of mind."

Realization quickly caught up to Breck. Tristan wasn't following her to make sure she didn't bother the townsfolk – he was following her to make sure none of the townsfolk bothered her.

She felt her anger immediately begin to subside, then almost felt embarrassed both by how quickly she had jumped to conclusions, as well as how much she had let her temper get the better of her. "Oh," she said, unable to think of anything else to say.

Arthur huffed out a laugh at her response. He squeezed her shoulders for a moment before releasing her, his expression caught somewhere between amused and exasperated. "It seems your temper has not changed these many years," he couldn't help but comment. "Still terrifying as ever."

Breck could sense he was teasing her to lighten the mood, which pulled an obliging smile from her. Then she sighed and gave him a look. "I do not want you to think that I do not appreciate the lengths you would go to for the sake of my safety," she said in a far gentler tone. "But having me followed is not necessary. I am capable of taking care of myself."

"As I well know," Arthur conceded. "Perhaps it was a little…extreme of me," he admitted with a small cringe.

"A little?" Breck countered doubtfully.

"Very well, it was very extreme," he conceded, almost grumbling. "But I was your protector once before, if you will recall. I suppose I still feel as though I am now. Old habits," he said with a shrug.

Breck recalled very well that Arthur had been her protector back when she had previously lived at the Wall. Back then, if he saw any Roman soldiers giving her trouble, he would put an immediate stop to it. If other kids at the Wall teased her, Arthur always stood up for her. He had even gotten into a fight once after a boy had simply gone too far, which had gotten him into a fair bit of trouble with his father, not that Arthur had cared about that. He had always looked out for her, always gone out of his way to protect her, and that was yet another thing time had not changed.

It had just been so long since she'd had a protector, however, that it now almost felt odd to have someone other than herself so determined to keep her safe.

"Old habits or no, you still should have told me," Breck said with a pointed look. "You had every chance at breakfast this morning to reveal you had ordered one of your men to follow me, and yet you did not. I do not appreciate being lied to, Arthur," she said with a frown and a shake of her head.

"I did not lie," Arthur immediately defended. "I told you Tristan has been busy, and busy he has been."

Breck quirked a brow. "Busy following me, which you conveniently omitted from our conversation. That is no different than lying to me."

Arthur sighed and held up a hand. "You are right," he said, as if hoping to prevent her fury returning. "I should have told you. The only reason I did not was out of fear you would react poorly, which you did," he said with a meaningful look.

"I think anyone would react poorly to such a discovery," she pointed out.

"Yes, you are probably right," Arthur agreed.

Breck eyed him for a moment, then tilted her head and cocked an eyebrow. "Not that I wish to encourage this sort of behavior in the future, but… I am curious. What wouldyou do if someone were causing me trouble?" she had to ask.

Arthur's expression turned very serious. "I would put a swift end to it, then see to it that they could never do such a thing to anybody ever again," he told her firmly, his tone clearly saying that he was not, in any way, shape, or form, joking.

Breck had absolutely no doubt that he would do just that, either. There was no stopping the smile that pulled at her lips then as she stared up at her friend, who was just as fiercely good and loyal now as he had been back then.

"Many things have changed since I left Hadrian's Wall, but one thing has not – you are still the best friend I could have ever hoped for," she told him sincerely, reaching for his shoulder to give it a squeeze. "A little overbearing, perhaps," she had to add with a look, making him roll his eyes good naturedly. "But an utterly remarkable friend nonetheless."

"That was almost a nice compliment," Arthur said dryly, which made her smile with amusement. "Does this mean you are not cross with me, then?" he asked for clarification, his tone hopeful.

Breck sighed and shrugged helplessly. "Have I ever been able to remain cross with you for longer than ten seconds?" she asked pointedly, which made him grin broadly – they both knew the answer to that question was no. She still pointed a finger at him, though, and gave him a stern look. "But you must begin to trust that I am capable of looking after myself, Arthur. I am not some helpless damsel in need of constant protection. And I especially do not need a protector in the form of Tristan," she added, practically spitting the name out.

Arthur quirked a brow at the venom in her tone. "You speak of him as though he is a plague. What happened?"

"He was rude and completely uncivil toward me, all without any provocation from me," Breck complained, scowling as she thought back to her encounter with the Sarmatian. "In fact, the man nearly took my ear off with an arrow!" she said darkly.

Arthur frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked, disconcerted.

"He shot an arrow at the target I was using for my own archery practice, only I happened to be standing between him and said target at the time," she explained with a scowl.

Arthur made a sound of understanding. "And did he hit the target?" he questioned with interest.

Breck remembered how Tristan's arrow had landed dead center right next to her own, even from the distance he had stood and even with her standing in the way blocking his view. If she were not so angry with him, she might have admitted to how impressive such a shot was. At the moment, however, she would rather swallow her own tongue than say anything even remotely nice about Tristan.

"That is beside the point," Breck said evasively. "The point is that you chose perhaps the rudest man possible to be my shadow."

"Yes, well, Tristan is…" He paused before shrugging. "Tristan." Arthur then clapped her on the shoulder. "In time, I am certain the two of you shall get along just fine."

"Not likely," Breck shot back at him.

While Arthur chuckled and shook his head, Breck finally took a moment to process what she had interrupted when she had come to chew Arthur out. A glance at the table showed a map still laid out there, and she noticed then that Arthur already had armor on, as well as a sword strapped to his hip. He had also mentioned that he would meet Lancelot and the men at the stables, which could only really mean one thing.

"Are you leaving?" she asked, frowning at him with mild concern.

"Only for a short while," Arthur confirmed with a nod. "There have been reports of a Woad party spotted on our side of the Wall, so I am taking the men out to investigate. We should return by nightfall," he assured her.

Breck frowned at the news. "Woads?" she asked unsurely. "I thought they usually stayed north of the Wall."

"There are some that brave venturing south now and again," Arthur said with a small shrug. "Seeing as our time of servitude is coming to its end and we shall be departing soon, they are beginning to grow bolder with their advances."

"I see," Breck said. "Will this mission be dangerous?"

"Sometimes we find trouble, sometimes we do not," Arthur answered. Then he smirked at her. "Though I am certain that whatever we face shall be significantly less terrifying than an angry Saxon storming into my council room to berate me for the horrid crime of protecting her."

Breck gave him a sarcastic smile. "You are too amusing," she replied blandly.

Arthur chuckled, then motioned for her to follow him and led her out of the room. "Now that we are speaking of this matter, I do have a request of you," he said as they made their way through the estate, heading toward the front door. "Should we not return tonight, I ask that you stay the night with Vanora and not in your quarters. You are safe enough while we are present and while the knights are close to you, but it worries me to think what ideas some men may have if you were to be there completely on your own."

Breck immediately frowned at his request, thinking it very unnecessary. "Arthur – " she started to protest.

He rounded on her so quickly that she had to stop herself from running into him, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline as he frowned down at her authoritatively. "Breck, for once in your life do not argue with me on this and do as I say," Arthur commanded sternly.

The fierce look in his eyes made him appear much more menacing than he normally did. She knew right then that she was not speaking to the boy with the blanket and the bread, who was her best friend in the whole world and went to obnoxious lengths to take care of her. In that moment, he was Arthur Castus, Lord of the land and commander of the Sarmatian Knights, and he did not look like he was going to accept being told no.

She did not know why he was being so insistent, but she thought it wise not to argue, so she nodded her head in agreement. "Very well."

"Do I have your word?" Arthur asked.

"You have my word," she promised.

But even as she agreed to his request, she could not help but think how oddly he was behaving. Sure, he was overprotective, but commanding one of his men to follow her just to make sure nobody bothered her? Asking her to stay with Vanora so that she would not be left vulnerable and alone in her quarters? It was simply too extreme to be just because of his desire to take care of her.

She wondered if there was perhaps something else going on, something he was keeping secret from her.

"Is there something you are not telling me about?" Breck had to ask, her eyes narrowing with scrutiny, searching every inch of his face for the answer she wanted.

Arthur tensed for only a moment, before plastering on what he probably thought was a reassuring smile. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with," he said. "Now, come. We do not wish to be late." And then he turned and continued on.

Breck stared at his back as he walked away from her, frowning to herself. Mere minutes ago, she had been scolding him for lying to her about Tristan, for lying about the fact that he had ordered her to be followed. She would have thought, perhaps, that he would know better than to do such a thing a second time.

But she knew what the tensing of his spine meant, knew what was behind that not so convincing smile and slightly shifty gaze. He had never been a convincing liar, even when they were children. He was simply too noble, too honest – no matter how hard he tried to play it off, he always gave himself away when he wasn't being truthful.

Arthur stopped at the end of the hall when he realized she wasn't following him, giving her a slightly confused look. As Breck finally moved to join him, she couldn't help but wonder…

Why had he just lied to her again?

OOO

There were several questions floating through her mind as she and Arthur walked to the stables together, but she kept them all to herself. Instead, they walked in an awkward silence the entire way. She had a strong feeling that Arthur knew she was suspicious of him, that he knew that she knew he was not being honest with her, but he seemed to be doing his very best not to acknowledge it. He just kept his eyes turned forward and his expression unreadable, obviously unwilling to do or say anything that would give any secrets away.

When they reached the stables, Arthur immediately went to where his horse was, as if he couldn't get away from her fast enough. Breck stared after him with a quirked brow, until she sensed the presence of someone on her right and turned her head to be greeted with the sight of Lancelot, suited up in his armor and giving her a teasing grin.

"Who won the fight, then?" he asked.

Breck sighed through her nose. "There was hardly a fight. Only a…minor disagreement."

"I see," he said, before that grin of his turned downright suggestive. "If you are unhappy with Tristan as your protector, I would be more than happy to fill the role. I assure you that I would keep you both safe and…entertained," he told her with a wag of his eyebrows.

Breck merely gave him a flat look in return, unimpressed with his continued attempts to flirt with her. "Such a kind offer, Lancelot," she said dryly, "but I think I would prefer to be trampled by one of these horses."

Lancelot made a face of pain and placed a hand over his chest. "How you wound me, my lady," he said dramatically. Then he perked up again, wagging a finger at her as he grinned once more. "You may be immune to my charms now, but in time, I am certain you will come to love me."

Then he sauntered off, leaving her to shake her head and roll her eyes.

With Lancelot gone, her gaze shifted to Dagonet, who stood nearby as he attached a few things to his saddle. He nodded in greeting, to which she offered him a quick smile in return, then she finally decided to be useful and begin saddling Gawain's horse, since the man hadn't arrived yet. Breck strode past Jols, who was already busy preparing Bors's horse, her eyes finding the brutish man himself as he shrugged on his bulky armor.

"Ello there, Breck," Bors said in greeting as she neared him. "Nice day for a bit o' Woad huntin', aye?"

"I suppose so, if that is what you enjoy," she responded.

Bors's response was to let out a dark, menacing chuckle and rub his hands together in anticipation, which left Breck with a few doubts regarding his sanity.

Breck continued on toward the saddle racks, but hesitated when she realized that Tristan was there. He was sitting on a bench right next to the saddles, sharpening his long sword with slow precision. He seemed intent on his task, but when his eyes lifted from the blade, they landed directly on her, a clear indication that he had been well aware of her presence in the stables.

Determined not to look like a fool or a coward in front of him, Breck quickly recovered from her surprise and stepped forward again, lifting her chin defiantly. It took every ounce of her self-control not to make some sort of rude face or gesture at him as their eyes held. She was, after all, still very annoyed with the way he'd treated her at the training arena barely even an hour ago.

She snatched up Gawain's saddle with more force than was necessary, sending one last flat look in Tristan's direction before turning to go to Gringolet's stall. It was obvious she was irritated, and she knew that Tristan knew exactly why she was, but he didn't seem to care. In fact, he seemed completely unbothered by her little display.

Breck tried not to let it get to her.

Once Galahad and Gawain arrived a handful of minutes later, all of the men stopped what they were doing to take seats on the benches, before Arthur began debriefing them on what was to be expected on their mission. It was a jarring shift in behavior from the men. So far she had only seen them as loud, drunken, friendly fools. Now they were intent and focused, the warriors in them emerging and taking over as they readied themselves to go hunt down some troublesome Woads. It made her feel a new level of respect for them. She also couldn't help but feel privileged that she had been welcomed by them so readily, that this group of fearsome Sarmatian warriors were becoming her friends and allies.

Well…except, perhaps, for maybe one.

She glanced over the top of Gawain's horse towards where Tristan was sitting. Though the rest of the men were listening intently, Tristan almost looked bored by the whole thing. He had sheathed his freshly sharpened sword and had instead taken to snacking on an apple he had stolen from one of the bags for the horses, and if not for the fact that his eyes turned toward Arthur every so often, she would have thought he wasn't even listening to what his commander was saying.

Breck found herself wondering how he could be so very different from the other men. Had he lived a harder life before coming to the Wall? Had he endured more trauma than the others? Or had he simply been born with such a rotten attitude? Breck wondered if he was even friendly with the other knights – he must have been, since Jols had told her that he didn't socialize with anyone else and since Arthur had spoken of him with a certain tone that indicated friendship.

Tristan suddenly met her gaze and she quickly looked away, finishing her work with Gawain's horse and then turning to go and busy herself with something else. She spotted Azia wandering over towards Lugh and went over to the mare, patting her on the neck in greeting before double checking that her saddle was attached properly. She heard Arthur dismiss his men and instruct them to finish making their preparations, and as the knights scattered about the room again, she swore she could feel Tristan's eyes on her back.

Sure enough, a glance over her shoulder confirmed that his gaze was locked on her. Maybe he didn't like that she was near his horse, or maybe he was sizing her up the same way she had been doing to him – either way, Breck had a job to do and she was going to see it done, whether Tristan liked it or not.

"You are prepared well, and I hope your journey is uneventful," Breck said to Azia in Gaelic, not just because Azia liked it, but because it meant nobody else would be able to understand her. "But if ever there was a time to throw your master, it is on this day," she added, unable to help herself.

Azia snorted back, as if appalled at the thought of ever doing such a thing. When she nipped at Breck's clothing, Breck held up a hand in surrender.

"Alright, alright," she conceded. "I was only joking."

The sound of approaching footsteps seconds later made both the woman and the mare turn. Breck instinctively squared her shoulders as Tristan came near, watching as his eyes slid back and forth between Azia and Breck with a look she couldn't quite read. He stopped a few feet away from Breck, put a possessive hand on his horse, then stared her down with those unreadable eyes of his. Breck returned his stare with a defiant, unintimidated one of her own before offering Azia's reins to him.

He eyed the reins, then slowly trailed his eyes back up to hers. The look sent a weird feeling down Breck's spine, but she did her best to ignore it and extended the reins closer with barely concealed impatience. Finally, Tristan took them from her grasp, being very careful not to let his fingers touch hers as he did so.

"My lady," Gawain's voice suddenly sounded on her left, interrupting the tense moment between Breck and Tristan and making her avert her attention to the golden-haired Sarmatian. He was sitting atop his horse and smiling down at her. She did not miss the way his gaze slid from her to Tristan, then back again. "Will we be granted the pleasure and privilege of your company tonight?" Gawain asked.

Breck breathed easier as Tristan finally led Azia away, finding that it felt a little easier to relax – and a little easier to breathe – without Tristan's unsettling stare on her.

"That shall depend on the time of your return, I suppose," she told Gawain with a small smile. "And on whether or not you return unscathed," she added.

Gawain thought on that for a moment, then nodded and sat very straight, almost puffing out his chest. "If I promise that we shall return alive and well and at a decent hour, will you please do me – and the men – the great honor of joining us in the tavern?" he asked in an overly formal tone, even as his blue eyes twinkled with mischievousness and a smirk fought to appear on the corner of his mouth.

Breck shook her head in amusement, not sure what made him think he could make such a promise with such confidence, but found herself nodding anyway. "Yes, Gawain. Under those conditions, I agree to join you," she promised him, deciding to just give in.

Gawain grinned and opened his mouth to say more, but he didn't get the chance.

"Gawain!" They both looked to Arthur, who was frowning at his knight in displeasure. "We have a mission to see to. Get your mind in the correct state," he scolded.

While Galahad and Bors snorted and snickered at their friend, not even bothering to be subtle about it, Gawain's expression immediately became serious. He pursed his lips, and with a curt nod to his commander – and a kinder one to Breck – he trotted over to join Galahad and Bors. Gawain immediately punched Galahad in one of the weak spots of his armor once he was close enough, making the young knight wince and shoot him a scowl.

Arthur eyed Gawain for a moment, then made his way over to Breck. "We shall depart now. I trust that you will honor my request of you," he said, quirking a stern eyebrow.

"I shall, I promise," Breck said with a nod of her head.

Arthur looked pleased and grateful that she had not argued, his expression easing. He reached out to clasp her shoulder, then inclined his head to her and went to his horse. With everyone mounted and ready to depart, Arthur jutted his chin into the air.

"Knights…we ride!" he announced, before digging his heels into the flanks of his horse and galloping out of the stables, his knights following closely behind.

OOO

Once the knights were long gone and she and Jols had cleaned the horses' stalls, Breck decided to take advantage of the fact that Tristan wasn't around to follow her and went to her favorite pond far away from prying eyes to take a much needed bath. Washing up in the basin in her room worked well enough most of the time, but it never made her feel completely clean, so a real, honest bath was long overdue. She figured there was no better time than the present to do so, especially seeing as she would rather Tristan didn't see her naked. So, after making sure the coast was indeed clear, Breck took off her clothes and slid into the pond with a bar of soap she'd paid entirely too much money for, letting the cool water soothe the muscles that were still sore from all the stable work she'd been doing.

After she was completely, squeaky clean, she seized the opportunity to give her clothes a quick wash, not wanting to put on dirty, smelly clothes after having just taken a bath. When that was finished, she laid the clothes out to dry and then spent the next hour lounging in the tall grass, enjoying the feeling of the sun's warm rays on her bare skin. Breck knew it was brave of her to just lie around naked while her clothes dried, but a sunny day in Britain was rare and she intended to enjoy it. She snickered to herself when she thought about what the overprotective Arthur would have to say if he knew she'd been naked in public, feeling rather rebellious.

Once her clothes were dry enough, Breck put them back on before heading to her quarters. Though she had complained about it non-stop at first, she opted to change into the dress Vanora had gotten her instead of her usual garb, wanting to look more feminine now that she was clean and had finished with her work for the day.

As she smoothed her hands over the tight fitting dress and eyed herself in the looking glass, she told herself this decision had nothing to do with Gawain, nor the possibility that she'd see him later.

After arming herself with a few concealed weapons – just because she wanted to wear a dress didn't mean she wasn't going to keep herself well-armed – Breck left her quarters and started toward the tavern, intending to find Vanora.

As she made her way through town, she couldn't help but think back to her conversation with Arthur, trying to imagine what could have him so on edge that he would lie to her not once, but twice. Were the occupants of the Wall not as friendly as Breck had originally gathered? Was there a real threat lurking nearby that he didn't want her to know about? Or was he just being extra paranoid and extra overprotective because they'd been apart for all this time, and he felt like he needed to make up for the years he hadn't been able to look out for her?

Breck eyed the town's people around her as she passed through the town square, noticing just how many people watched her as she went past. It was one of the few times that she didn't have either Arthur or a Sarmatian at her side, and while she didn't necessarily feel threatened by the people around her, it was a bit unsettling to be scrutinized so closely while she was a little more vulnerable. As a few women whispered behind their hands, obviously speaking about her, she began to wonder what everyone else thought of her, or what they might make of her budding friendships with the men. After all, she was unmarried and had been seen getting escorted around town by Arthur and over half of the knights. That would be more than enough to have people inclined to think her a harlot in most places.

Breck jutted her chin, telling herself it didn't matter what people thought of her, nor who she spent her time with. Arthur was her friend, and the knights – minus Tristan – were becoming her friends too. There was nothing wrong with that, and she did not owe anyone an explanation for it either.

It was late into the afternoon by the time Breck reached the tavern, and the place was already starting to fill with people. She wove her way through the crowd, mindful not to tread on anyone's toes or skirts, until she finally reached the bar. Vanora was standing nearby, holding something in her arms and looking flustered as men shouted orders at her. Breck immediately headed for the older redhead.

"Everything alright, Vanora?" Breck asked once she was by her side.

Vanora immediately looked relieved to see her. "Breck! By the Gods, I am happy to see you!" she responded with a smile. Breck realized that the bundle in her arms was Eleven, who was looking rather fussy. "It is fortunate you have come. Could I ask a favor of you? Mind my baby while I clear the tables?"

Breck's eyes widened as she looked at the child in alarm. She had absolutely no experience when it came to handling babies. What if she did something wrong? What if she broke the poor child? "Er – you are certain you trust me?" she asked skeptically, hoping Vanora would pick up on her reluctance.

"Do not be silly! Of course I do!" Vanora said without missing a beat, before practically shoving the child into Breck's arms.

Breck froze as the small, fussy bundle nestled into the crook of her elbow, then looked down at the chubby little baby. Almost immediately he stopped crying, choosing to stare at her in curiosity instead. "See! He likes ya already!" Vanora said with a triumphant smile. Even Breck couldn't help but smile a little as one of Eleven's small hands found her hair, his eyes watching in utter fascination as a curly lock wound itself around one of his tiny fingers.

Vanora turned to start collecting dirty dishes, moving much faster now that she didn't have her baby in her arms. "So tell me, friend," Vanora started conversationally, "how was your day?"

Breck looked up from the baby in her arms and frowned at Vanora. "Rather vexing, if I am to speak the truth."

Vanora balanced a tray in one of her hands and frowned, motioning for Breck to follow her as she went to collect some dirty dishes from another table that had just emptied out. Breck did so, moving with much more care out of fear of something horrible happening, like her tripping over a foot and dropping Vanora's baby on the hard ground.

"Why is this? What happened?" Vanora asked.

Breck frowned and glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention to them. A few people had glanced in their direction, but everyone seemed far more interested in their drink rather than whatever she and Vanora might have been discussing. "Well, I learned today that Tristan has been trailing me at Arthur's request, and though Arthur gave me a reason for it, I do not think he is being completely truthful with me," she explained. "I feel as though he is hiding something from me, though I cannot fathom what that might be."

Vanora went very quiet for a moment – too quiet, considering how chatty she had been thus far. "Yes, very odd that," she said, before quickly turning away to busy herself with something else.

Quirking a brow at the older woman and her suspicious behavior, Breck moved to stand in front of Vanora so she could give her a scrutinizing look. "Vanora, might you know something about this?" she asked.

It seemed all too likely. Vanora was Bors's woman, after all, and Bors was Arthur's knight. Judging by the fact that Lancelot already seemed to know what Arthur had ordered Tristan to do, she thought it safe to assume that all of the knights knew, which meant they also probably knew why. And since Bors didn't exactly seem the type for keeping secrets, it was highly likely that any secret told to Bors probably ended up being told to Vanora, too.

Vanora froze and then sighed, suddenly looking a little guilty. "I might…" she said slowly.

Her suspicions now confirmed, Breck gave the woman a pleading look. "Vanora, please tell me what is going on. I am an adult, not a child. I deserve to know."

The older redhead worried her bottom lip for a moment, before putting down the dishes she'd been carrying and pulling Breck off to the side. They were out of the earshot of the other patrons, but Vanora still leaned in and lowered her voice. "The first night you came to the Wall, long after you left and long after the rest of the men retired, Bors overheard a man saying something rather…unsettling about you."

Breck frowned. "What was said?" she asked curiously.

Vanora flushed, looking even guiltier – clearly she was not comfortable with being the one to deliver her this news. "The man was drunk and going on about your figure quite…elaborately," she explained in a gentle voice. When Vanora hesitated again, Breck moved one hand off the baby now dozing in her arms so she could motion for Vanora to get to the point. "Well, then the man started talking about bedding you, saying he would have you…no matter if it had to be by force," Vanora revealed in a rush. "Bors exchanged words with him immediately after. Likely would have pummeled the man had there not been Roman soldiers nearby. They do not like it when the Sarmatians stir up trouble, you see," Vanora explained. "Anyway," she continued. "He went straight to Arthur to inform him of what he had heard. I imagine that is why Tristan has been ordered to follow you. So that this man is not given the chance to make good on his threats."

Breck frowned as Vanora concluded her tale.

Was that truly what all the fuss was about? A drunken fool being a letch and saying inappropriate things? She had encountered her fair share of drunken fools, and in her experience, most of what they said turned out to be complete rubbish. Breck was not at all convinced that this was as big of a problem as everyone was making it out to be…yet, she could see exactly why Arthur had reacted the way he had. No doubt he was offended for her, as well as worried that this man might try to do these things to Breck while he was gone.

"Who is this man?" Breck asked, shifting the baby over to her other arm when she started to feel an ache.

"This I do not know. Bors would not tell me," Vanora admitted regretfully. "I suspect he knew I would end up telling you at some point or another, and did not want you to know so you would not confront this man yourself."

"Of course," Breck said, annoyed with Bors for being one step ahead of her.

"Are you upset by this news?" Vanora asked cautiously, staring at her intently as though trying to gauge her reaction.

Breck shrugged a shoulder. "Honestly? No," she admitted. "This is certainly not the first time a drunken man has said crude things about me. I have encountered all manner of disgusting men, and none of them have ever gotten close to harming me in any way," Breck explained. "He was likely only speaking out of his arse to impress his friends."

Vanora seemed worried still. "But sometimes it is not just talk," she reminded Breck. "Sometimes those disgusting men mean to go through with their horrid plans."

Breck knew Vanora was right, of course. People could be truly evil, and if given the chance, bad things could certainly happen. Breck might have avoided the ill-intentions of pigheaded men before, but that was due largely to the fact that she had never lingered around long enough for any of them to have the chance to get at her.

Yet, that was not the case this time. She would be at the Wall for some time, which meant she would just have to be more aware and more diligent than usual.

"I understand your concern, Vanora, and I thank you for it, but everything is going to be alright," Breck assured the woman. "The men have obviously been made aware and I am perfectly capable of handling myself. Nothing will happen to me."

"I have no doubt you can fight your own battles, but just…be mindful of your surroundings," Vanora pleaded earnestly. "And be careful when you are not with the men."

"I will, I promise," Breck said, wondering how many more promises she would end up making before the day was up.

OOO

Breck decided to spend the rest of the evening in the tavern with Vanora, primarily babysitting the woman's youngest child but also helping her with a few chores here and there whenever the baby really needed his mother.

Now that she knew some drunken, sordid man had his eye on her, she found herself studying all the men that came and went as the night progressed, watching them for their reaction to her and trying to determine which of them might have been the loud talker. It was impossible to tell, though, seeing as most of the men leered at any woman who crossed their path, herself included.

When Vanora finally got a break and was able to take the baby back for a while, Breck got herself some food and went to join Jols for supper. Her friendly conversation with the stable master was enough to keep her mind off of what she and Vanora had discussed, but she still found herself thinking about Arthur and the knights.

Arthur had said they'd be back by nightfall, only it was past nighttime now and the men hadn't returned like they shouldhave. Had something gone wrong? Had someone gotten hurt? Though she hadn't outwardly expressed it, the thought of the men riding out to fight Woads greatly disconcerted her. She personally had never had an encounter with the Woads, but she'd spoken to people in the past who had – according to stories, the Woads were as relentless as they were ruthless, and they did not hesitate to kill. It worried her to think about the men facing off against them, especially when she remembered that so many of their comrades had fallen to the very same people.

"Ah – here they come!" Jols suddenly said, drawing Breck from her thoughts.

She looked at Jols before quickly shifting her eyes to the door, immediately feeling relieved when she saw that the knights were indeed filing into the tavern. The majority of them went to the bar to order ale at once, but Gawain and Dagonet had spotted Breck and Jols and were walking over to join them. She couldn't help but notice that Arthur wasn't among them, but any worry she felt over that was gone quickly. If something had happened to him, the men would not have looked so casual as they took their time making their way to the table. If Arthur had gotten hurt, they would have been much more frantic, so she had to believe that he was alright.

"As promised," Gawain said with a slight bow, proving to her that he had returned unharmed before taking the seat next to her. Breck noticed that while his face looked freshly cleaned, his hair and clothes had specks of blood in them, letting her know that they indeed must have found a Woad party and taken care of the problem. "I am starved," he announced, eyeing her plate jealously.

"Here," Breck offered, pushing her half eaten plate over to him. "I have filled my hunger."

Gawain nodded his gratitude and flashed a wide smile. "Many thanks," he said before digging in.

"Arthur was searching for you," Dagonet said as he dropped in the seat across from her. Breck nodded and made a move to stand from her seat with the intention of going to find Arthur, but Dagonet stopped her by reaching across the table and placing a gentle hand on her arm. "He will be here soon. Stay in our company until he arrives," he said.

Breck quirked a brow, glancing briefly at Gawain, but the man merely nodded to reaffirm what Dagonet had said. "Very well," she agreed.

Dagonet offered a kind smile and released her arm. Breck glanced between the two, noticing how tired both of them looked now that their duty was finished and they were able to relax again. She almost wondered how they even had the energy to come to the tavern, but the lure of ale must have been strong, for both men brightened up considerably when Bors, Lancelot, and Galahad came to join them with multiple mugs of ale in their hands.

Tristan, Breck noticed, was a few steps behind them.

"Ah, just what I have been dreaming of all day..." Gawain said reverentially, before chugging down the drink Galahad gave him.

"Where's Vanora?" Bors asked, searching around for the woman in question.

"Feeding Eleven," Breck answered, motioning in the direction the woman had gone. Bors nodded his thanks, grabbed his ale, then went off to find her.

While the men began recounting what had happened on their mission, Breck found her eyes drifting back over to Tristan, who had just taken a seat on top of the table next to theirs. He had begun eating his food slowly and silently, facing them as though listening to their conversation, but his eyes were alert and scanning the tavern, as though searching the area for trouble.

Breck wondered if this was just a habit of his, being Arthur's scout and all, or if he was searching for the man that had said those things about her. She briefly considered asking him about it, but just as quickly decided it would probably be a waste of her breath to do so – judging by the way he'd treated her earlier, it seemed unlikely he'd tell her what she wanted to know.

"So, how boring was your day without our company?" Galahad asked Breck once they had finished talking about the mission, looking tired but happy to be back at the Wall.

"Horridly dull," she said with a small shrug. "I shall surely die of boredom should you men decide to leave for longer than a day," she added in mock woe, making the men around her smile tiredly in amusement.

"Methinks you exaggerate, my lady," Gawain shot at her with a teasing smirk.

"Methinks you are correct, sir," she joked back, before they shared a quick laugh.

When her eyes flitted to Tristan on their own accord, she saw that he was watching her and Gawain. Upon noticing her gaze was on him, however, he turned his eyes down to his plate.

Arthur chose the next moment to walk through the door of the tavern, much to Breck's everlasting relief – she was just glad to see, with her own eyes, that he was perfectly fine. He paused to search the tavern until his eyes finally landed on her. He visibly relaxed, smiled, then walked over to join them.

"I am glad to see you here," he said upon arrival. He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her an inquiring look. "You are well?"

"I should be asking you that question," Breck pointed out. "You are the one who spent his day chasing after rogue Woads."

Arthur offered a gentle smile. "I am well, friend," he reassured her.

"As am I," Breck told him, using the same reassuring tone.

Arthur nodded and then turned to Tristan, raising his eyebrows in silent question. When the scout gave a quick shake of his head, Arthur clapped him on the back and then went to the bar.

Breck, who saw all of this happen, sighed quietly to herself as she watched him go. Arthur really was too good to her, she decided. He had just spent all day chasing after Woads, was probably tired and hungry and stressed, but all he cared about as soon as he walked through the door was her and her safety? It still amazed her how selfless he could truly be. He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders when it concerned his men and the people on his land, yet he still took the time to worry about some drunken man saying offensive things about her.

It warmed her heart to know someone so genuinely good cared for her so much.

Breck had been thinking about confronting Arthur and demanding that he tell her all that he knew about the situation, but she decided against it in that moment. He had enough on his plate as it was, and the last thing she wanted to do was cause Arthur anymore stress or worry. She would just simply have to watch her back a little more carefully from this point on. And that was nothing new for her.

See you next Friday!