This is it my dears! The final installment. I hope it lives up to expectations!

The guards at the wall had sighted the knights a bare hour before, and now she finally set aside the curry comb she was using on a spare mount. She stretched, easing out the kinks in her back from the long day working in the stables and strode across the stable to the door leading out to the courtyard. Vanora was already present with her brood of bastards, lining the gate and watching fearfully. It had been one of their longest missions, nearly a month, and most of those left at the fort had grown more than a bit worried.

"Heya, they should be close," she called out, glad to see the redhead try to smile for her. "It shouldn't be long now." She leaned back against the stable door, partly hidden in the shadows and settled in to wait the few more moments it would take her scout to arrive. She knew Vanora would be shaking her head at her chosen post. It just wasn't her way to wait out in the open with her heart on her sleeve as Bors's lover did. If the worst came, and Tristan did not ride through that gate, she wanted to at least have a brief moment to mourn alone.

She fingered a long slender braid just beneath her left ear and forced the dark thoughts away. That braid had been the first of many now scattered through her hair. It had appeared as if by magic the morning after her first night with the handsome scout. He'd apparently plaited it there as she slept, hands so gentle that she'd never even stirred.

She'd left it, of course, and had grinned at the other knights' amusing expressions. Gawain had quipped "Riding, breeches, a proper mess of your hair. I do believe our scout will make a barbarian out of you, yet." She had to admit she hoped so.

If the braids were any indication, she was well on her way to it. She'd stopped counting their number at five, and now simply bundled the mass into one large knot, or used two of the longest to tie it all back into a tail. All but that first one, anyway. That one she kept loose.

She clutched at it now, as the thunder of hoof beats warned of the knights' arrival. She leaned out a bit from the doorway and silently counted the approaching horses. After a moment, she sighed slumping back against the wall in relief. All had returned. In an almost instant shift of mood, she grinned and pulled herself further back into shadow. She stilled, as the knights rode into the courtyard. It was time for one of her favorite games.

The knights were in fine form, all apparently healthy and accounted for. Their shouts of laughter restored the life that was always missed at the fort when they left on patrol or one of Rome's missions. To her left, Bors and Vanora dove into their ritual of violence (on Vanora's part) and worship (on Bors's) ending in a ridiculously passionate embrace. Near the courtyard's center, Galahad and Gawain were lapping up the attentions of their respective wenches as they so obviously believed were their due. And there- she froze completely, her eyes locked on the only silent form in the courtyard.

Tristan was scanning the courtyard as carefully as he ever did the woods while on patrol. The only difference- she was his quarry this time. She couldn't say just when the game had started, but it had become one she greatly enjoyed. "Greatly enjoy indeed," she whispered absently. Tristan's head shot up, and he stared directly at her. She bit her lip, suppressing a giggle as she realized she'd given herself away.

She took a few careful steps out of the shadows and actually into the courtyard. Tristan had loosed Isolde off of his arm and was dismounting slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. That was the look, she mused, that kept her soaring inside. Still staring, he gave his stallion to Jols and strode deliberately toward her. She heard the commander's call for her scout to report in and Lancelot's laugh he might as well leave it a while, but they were quickly drowned out by the pounding in her chest. He reached her, and tilted her chin up in that so familiar gesture with the crook of his finger.

"Where you been, then?" he crooned softly, cocking his head to study her face. "When you been, eh?" She didn't answer, instead lifting her face up to his for a kiss. All was well again- her lover was home. The pair continued their embrace, ignoring all around them.

Including a very sulky Mara, who was heard to mutter, "I don't understand it. He just treats her like that blasted bird."

Welp, there it is! I hope all of you liked it as much as I did! I just wanted to say one last thank you to everyone who left such awesome comments and added me to their lists and alerts. It made me smile every time I got an email.. seriously it did!

I'm not disappearing or anything though! I'm going to get started on that self insertion pretty quick and possibly the seer tale as well. I've decided that Isolde's story may end up being a one shot- if only because I can see one scene and nothing else. I think it will work on it's own! I hope to see yall back to read my new stuff too! hug