sorry about the long update! tried to write it out on my phone, but the universe decided it hated me and erased everything i had down. THREE TIMES. yeah, well please forgive. also sorry if this chapter isnt great but i hope you like it.

The one step lead to one more, then just a little further, until Aria stood in The Rising Sun Inn, buying room for the next fortnight.

No introductions were made between the innkeeper and herself. She just gave him the gold, he gave her the key and asked if she expected visitors. She did not.

As Aria headed toward the room the man said was hers ( albeit temporarily), she could not help but to feel some relief that the innkeeper had not said much. She was glad, not only that he had not asked for her name, but in turn not given his.

The innkeeper could now stay in her mind as only a vague man, who had given his name nor any indication of a personality what so ever. Aria had nothing to remember him by, and for that, she silently thanked him.

Aria intended to keep Camelot as nothing to her, and getting to know it's citizens was not something Aria desired. It would only make distancing herself from the city hard. So for as long as she stayed in Camelot, Aria had no desire on becoming acquainted with it's people. No matter what, Aria added to herself.

On the same No Attachment line of thinking, Aria was contented to see that she had a plain room. It was small and had one window facing a bland view of a muddy back street with shutters that Aria doubted latched close. Under the sill lay an old cupboard, that Aria thought No doubt infested with moths. The bed was little more than a compressed and stained straw mattress that lay atop of an unstable wooden base that seemed to be held together with nothing more than two rusted nails.

A good thing about the room was that the small size of it almost guaranteed Aria a roommate-free living arrangement. Also, the open window wouldn't be much of a problem seeing as aria always slept with an open window. Even if the room was not bad overall, Aria knew she would never sleep well in Camelot. She would never allow herself to.

Aria removed the burden of her pack from her shoulders and lay it on the bed, the weight of it making the frame croak out a protest. The pack had about five days of food in it, a week if Aria stretched it a bit. The minute amount of coin left after renting the room had Aria vying for the latter option.

Aria knew that she would have to use her remaining coin sparingly if her plan ended up being extended. She looked down disparagingly, her pinched and blistered feet hidden in the far too small pair of boots she had accidentally grabbed in haste.

Aria needed to find paid work soon. She contemplated the thought; the idea of becoming a servant in the castle was immediately dismissed. There was a possibility that there was work in the town, but that could lead to more exposure than she wanted. Maybe if she could find just a few odd jobs here and there, Aria might be able to gather just enough coin to afford a proper pair of footwear.

That sounded well enough to Aria. It was decided then, she would start looking tomorrow morning.

Aria looked at her feet again and felt every blister throb to her heartbeat. The trip had been long and far, and with every moment the straw mattress was steadily looking more and more like an oasis.

Aria removed her pack from the bed to sit, not bothering just yet to put it in the cupboard. She began to slowly and surgically remove her boots.

Aria rested against the one pillow and her eyes suddenly stuck together, feeling a million pounds. Aria knew that there was no staying vigilant through this night, as she had the past ones on the run. She was so weary from her travels, that she had no strength to care about much else for the rest of the night. For the next few hours at least, Aria would rest in Camelot, no matter how uneasy that thought made her feel.

That feeling at the pit of her stomach created a voice her her head. That voice told her to stay awake, stay aware! But it was futile, there was nothing Aria could do to keep the exhaustion away any longer, and the voice faded into nothing but a hazy buzz. Aria feel asleep only moments after her eyes closed.

With all voices of reason swept away though the broken shutters, Aria slept through the night and dreamed of voices she used to know and love. These whispered memories in Aria's mind filled Aria's heart with a sad longing like nostalgia.

All this was swept away as well, when the light of dawn swam through Aria's closed eyelids and woke her up hours later.

The dull throb of her blisters were now overshadowed by the stretched ache of her lower body. The long journey across three kingdoms with little to no rest left Aria's legs little more than sore muscle.

The pain had to be forgotten, though, because Aria had more important things to focus on. For example, her attire.

Aria did not believe herself to be vain. She thought there was no importance to her appearance, and put no thought towards the people who believed they were better than her because they wore more expensive clothing. Being the best dressed in the room was never on her priority list, and she usually didn't care two cents about what she looked like to others.

However, something very important to her as of late was a low profile. If Aria wished to remain anonymous while in Camelot, she had to blend.

The men's trousers she currently wore, that were stained with six inches of dry dirt starting from the hem up, would do nothing but make Aria stick out. Which meant that she would have to wear a dress for all the foreseeable future in Camelot.

Ignoring the smart pain that shot through her legs, Aria stood up and outfitted herself in a plain dress she dug out of her pack. Hopefully it would do the trick and camouflage Aria into the crowd.

Her previous reservations about being noticed slowly but surely melted. No one in Camelot seemed to give her any second thought as she walked about the market place. Everybody was busy doing this or that, and overall, too lost in their own lives to care about anyone else's.

Aria talked to several people about any odd job they might need done, and received a few silver pieces from the ones who did. The jobs were small enough and the people distracted enough, that Aria had no doubt the would forget her face by the next morning. Anyone in this town that may be questioned on a woman named Aria would know nothing. Especially because anyone in this town that had asked for her name, had been given a false one.

Several hours later Aria walked into The Rising Sun Inn wearing a pair of leather boots that fit her perfectly. Upon entering, she notices two things: one, the innkeeper was busy talking to a man Aria assumed to be a customer, two, they looked like they were discussing something important.

Aria was curious about why these two men bowed their heads and looked as though they were speaking of something of such importance. There was no reason for Aria to want to know. But, a very nasty and long held habit of Aria's was spying. So she stepped softly into the shadows.

For about as as long as her memory went, Aria always found herself a nosy person. She would listen through walls, look through keyholes, and most commonly, eavesdrop from the was a terrible habit, and if ever caught she would most likely learn that lesson, but unfortunately she never was. So the habit continued.

Calling what she was doing observing, Aria stepped as close to the men as the shadowed stairs allowed. The man speaking to the innkeeper was elderly, and seemed to be the one doing the most talking. He wore robes that covered the rest of his clothing and had a satchel that hung from his shoulder.

A small spark of recognition lit in Aria, but for the life of her she couldn't place it. She could only see some of his face and that was partly hidden behind his longer hair.

The same curiosity that lead her to looking in the first place now pushed Aria into getting a better view of the man. With a half thought out reason for speaking to the innkeeper, she approached the desk and stepped out from her dark corner.

When Aria was close enough to them that she could clearly hear the men's voices, the small nagging feeling of recognition hit her once again.

"It doesn't taste a whole lot better than swamp water, but it'll do the job just fine I believe," The elder man said. The innkeeper nodded solemnly, looking the part of a the little boy who was told to take his medicine.

Medicine.

Aria suddenly knew exactly who this man was. It was the court physician in Camelot. It was Gaius. Aria was swept by old memories she believed lost long ago. Memories of the old man that was always there for those who needed him. For every scrap, scratch, bump, and bruise, it was Gaius that fixed it.

Aria suddenly wished to be anywhere else in the world. No matter how irrational the fear may be, or how long ago they last saw each other, Aria still remembered the man's quick mind and knowing eyes. Even if her father himself saw her now, he would not recognize Aria. But Gaius would.

There was no time for her to flee, no move she could make at this point that wouldn't bring attention to her. She was close enough to reach out and touch the two men at the desk. Any plan of escape was futile.

Gaius turned. He looked directly at Aria, the recognition in his eyes said everything.