The sun wasn't yet up, but sleep eluded Sir Leon. As usual these days his dreams had been peppered with remembrances of times past, and dreams of what could have been.

The knight sat up on the edge of his bed, his shirt loosely untied at the front. He scratched his scalp and repeatedly passed his hand through his hair in an attempt to tame a few wild wavy locks into submission and to brush away the overriding feeling of guilt that kept rearing its ugly head.

The room was cold, the fire long extinguished by the cold breeze that blew in through the windows. Setting his bare feet carefully on the icy cold floor, he let the freezing sensation climb up his legs, straightened his back and lifted his hands up in a stretch. At last he stood, and moved over to the chimney, poking through the ashes to check for any ember still glowing beneath. He wouldn't be in his chambers much today, so there wasn't any point in lighting a fire yet.

Having used the last of the logs he had brought back from the supply store a couple of days ago, his hand groped for the log basket so he could leave it by the door as a reminder. To his surprise, his palm met with the rough and mossy, crumbling surface of dried wood logs that seemed to have appeared overnight. Slightly baffled, he carefully disposed of the ashes strewn across the hearth, and stoked the fireplace, so the fire would be ready to be lit by the time he came back from his rounds this afternoon.

Grabbing a clean pair of breaches and a freshly pressed shirt from his wardrobe, he was starting to get dressed when he heard the soft sound of knuckles rasping against his chambers' door.

"Come in" he invited absentmindedly whilst tying his breaches around his waist.

As she came in with her tray, Gwen couldn't help but startle at the sight in front of her. It was improper for female servants to attend to knights in their chambers, and she could sure see why, for Sir Leon had not yet had the chance to put on a shirt, although she was glad he was actually half dressed.

"Good morning Gwen." He greeted her, oblivious of the sharp blush that crept upon her cheeks.

"Morning, sire." The maid averted her eyes, proceeding to the table instead and setting the tray on the table. "I've brought you breakfast, Sir."

The knight turned towards her, frowning.

"I don't need anybody to bring me breakfast, Gwen." He scolded with a hint of annoyance.

"I know, sire." The maid answered sheepishly. "And I also know I'm not usually allowed in this part of the castle, but you asked me to let you know if the Lady Ardena was likely to go, and I needed a cover story." Her answer was polite, but very frank and to the point and she bit her lip as she realised it might be interpreted as a lack of respect towards the knight.

"I see." He paused for a moment before adding. "I'm sorry if I was a bit short, or if I offended you Guinevere." Putting his shirt on, he continued on his train of thought. "Do you think she'll go soon?"

"I would say in the next hour or so, sire."

He turned to her in surprise.

"That soon?"

"I'm sorry, sire, should I have come any earlier?"

"No, it's fine, Gwen, thank you very much." Sir Leon strode to the door, leaving the maid behind in the empty chambers. She was just about to grab a bit of the bread she had brought, knowing that the knight would probably not touch his breakfast anyway, when his head popped through the door and his quiet voice made her jump.

"Gwen, did you bring me firewood by any chance?"

"No, sire. Should I have?"

"No, no. It's of no consequence. Thanks." The knight disappeared again, his footsteps loud in the early morning. Bewildered, Gwen hadn't moved when Sir Leon reappeared once more in the doorway.

"I nearly forgot… Feel free to help yourself to the breakfast, I won't have time to eat it, and I'd hate to see it go to waste." He winked at the maid and ran down the corridor in the direction of the royal quarters.

Turning back towards the table, Morgana's maid looked at the breakfast pensively and took a small piece of bread, all giddy at the thought a knight had just winked at her.


The knight stood at the door, his hand on the latch, his forehead gently resting against the cool oak, in the same fashion he had adopted all those years ago. He wondered why the feel and support of the wood against his face had always had this calming, strengthening effect on him and, suddenly realising how stupid he must have looked in that position, he freed the latch from the notch and slowly opened the door.

Ardena stood at the side of the bed, tidying the sheets and folding the blankets neatly on top. The dull, foggy light that flooded through the window seemed to wrap her in a gentle mist accentuating the glow of her diaphanous skin. A few stray rays of sunshine brought her long wavy hair to life, which flowed down her back all the way to her tiny waist.

In the dark green dress Gwen had borrowed from Morgana, she looked taller and slimmer than ever, as if all these years had stretched her further. Leon realised that he hadn't really had a chance to observe Ardena since that fateful night at the tavern.

Of course, he had spotted her when she was being harassed by the uncouth patron and later as he went to pay her a visit at the tavern, but those brief encounters paled in comparison with the woman he was admiring right now.

Her fine hands, not unlike those of his mother's, neatly folded the bed linen, flattening creases and straightening corners. Her whole body radiated with a grace and serenity that he had only ever witnessed in ladies of noble birth.

The knight berated himself internally. She should never have found herself in such a situation in the first place, she should never have gone through all this alone. Something snapped inside him at the thought that he had failed her, forgotten and buried all the years before Camelot, good and bad alike, until there was nothing left. And now all the good in his life had come back in one go, and he couldn't comprehend how he ever had the strength to leave her behind and how he could possibly bear the thought of letting her go again.

The linen was all neatly folded, and Ardena moved to the dressing table and picked up her shoes, that Gwen had taken the care to clean and dry. She walked back towards the bed and put on the worn out slippers.

Sir Leon startled, realising he had yet to say anything:

"Are you leaving?"

"I believe I must, sire. I have imposed on your hospitality long enough." She shook her head and turned to him with a sweet but sad smile.

"You really shouldn't have asked royal staff to look after me for so long, L..." The first letter of his name hung in the air just long enough to warm his heart. Underneath the plain, subservient face was still hid the lively soul he had cherished years ago. Ardena blushed at the faux-pas.

"I didn't have to ask them."

"Of course, you didn't, sire." She compensated by accentuating the polite formulation ever so slightly, smiling knowingly. You've always had a way with people, Leon. They respect you and would do anything for you...

"Ardena, I... Uh..."

"Are you lost for words, sire?" She taunted, her back turned towards him so he couldn't see her grin, but her tone badly betrayed the familiarity and playfulness of the retort. To her surprise, he didn't chuckled back, and she turned round a bit quickly, her hand resting against the bedpost to keep her balance.

The knight looked serious, almost grave.

"Ardena, what..." he sighed, unable to find words that would convey the exact meaning he wanted to put behind his question without offending her. He knew what she would think, what it would sound like. The knight stepped forward, bridging the gap between them till they were mere inches apart. He grabbed her wrist with his left hand his head turned towards the window as if to find some elusive inspiration somewhere outside. At last his gaze fell on her face, expectantly raised towards him, and he instantly regretted what he was about to ask.

Ardena could read the feelings on her Leon's face as though they were etched in his features: confusion, indecisiveness, longing, sadness and… guilt? As his thumb brushed against the inner side of her wrist, she felt her heart pumping furiously, waiting for that instant that would break the spell forever, for Ardena knew for sure nothing good could ever happen to them. Not where they were now, not after all that had happened.

At last, Sir Leon's lips parted and uttered those few all important words that seemed to cause him so much turmoil:

"Ardena", he started again, "what happened to the locket?"

If she felt like she has just been slapped across the face, the young woman showed no trace of it, but Sir Leon knew by the hitched rhythm of her pulse against his thumb that she had been shaken to the core, and he understood instantly that out of all the things he could have asked or said, this was just the worst one he could have chosen.

He loosened his grip on her wrist and she withdrew her hand, sitting back on the bed, her face as composed as ever.

"Do you want it back?"

His eyes widened in shock, she had got it all wrong. She thought he wanted it back, she thought he was withdrawing everything he had once offered her.

"No! I just… Ardena, I just…" Sir Leon knelt in front of her, burying his head on her lap. For a moment, her hands combed through his wavy mane comfortingly.

"I'm afraid I had to sell it two winters back. I had had nothing to eat for a week or so… I know I didn't get a good price for it, but I had no other choice."

Sir Leon mumbled something in answer but she couldn't quite catch it. Slowly cradling his face, she pulled him back up so she could see his face.

Her features were composed and resolute. Ardena didn't look angry, she didn't look upset or angry or hysterical or desperate. She just looked sad, but calm and determined.

"Sire, I must go".

"No!" Her finger softly pressed against his lips to silence him.

"Yes." She reaffirmed. "I must go."

Sir Leon's shoulders slouched. He knew this would all come down to that and had come prepared.

"I've spoken to Roland… Your job is safe for as long as you want it…" He let out, defeated. Ardena snorted.

"I bet you've paid him handsomely for that, I know it wasn't economical for him to keep me much longer."

Leon reverted to looking through the window. He could face dragons, magical creatures, mercenaries and soldiers from the mightiest army without blinking or thinking twice about it, but right now, he just couldn't face her.

And that's how he knew how he had come to forget. Like all the other knights, he had been picked for duty quite young and trained to perform each and every move till they became instincts rather than carefully thought out actions. Far from their families, knights came to forge lasting friendships with each other, but had little meaningful social contact outside of their own circle. They were used to the thought they may die, used not to think beyond the present, nor to look back at the past, lest they remembered.

So they forgot. Forgot how it felt to have feelings, forgot how to express them and, above all, how to live with them. And there he found himself, discovering a whole new world he had so carefully and faithfully pushed aside for over ten years.

And it hurt. More than arrow wounds and swords slashes and blisters and bruises from the blows. It hurt because there was no cure, no way out.

Leaving him to his torpor, Ardena stood, pressing his shoulder as she went past and made her way to the door. She had discussed her exit plan with Merlin in the morning and they had agreed that, with the hustle and bustle of the castle at this time of day, it was very unlikely anyone would notice a new court lady in the crowd. Furthermore, guards were unlikely to stop a lady innocently leaving the castle, as ladies of the court enjoyed a privileged status which saw them come and go as they pleased.

"Ardena, wait!" She turned back, her hand already on the latch. Leon was still on his knees, his back turned to her. He stood up and crossed the distance between them in an instant, grabbing her wrist with a bit too much intensity.

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself." Sir Leon leant closer to her, his breath warm and comforting against her face until they were but an inch apart. He wanted to kiss her wildly, to hold her in his arms so tight she might turn blue, and never to let her go. So his heart broke into a thousand pieces when he felt her hand push away against his chest, just below his heart. He heard the latch clunk heavily as it was lifted from its cradle.

"Farewell, Leon." Ardena lifted herself onto her toes. Her lips brushed against the knight's cheek, and lingered into a small kiss for barely a second. In an instant, she had disappeared, and the door closed itself again, the latch bumping back into place.

Sir Leon's forehead came once more in contact with the wooden panel, except this time he found no comfort in its touch, only emptiness.


As she passed under the main gate, Ardena turned back once more to get a last glance at the castle. It was unlikely she would ever set foot in it again, but would forever cherish those precious moments and be eternally thankful for the care and attention she had received.

Once she crossed the draw bridge, she treaded lightly all the way to the tavern. Avoiding the main entrance, she crept through the side entrance used by carts and visitors on horseback and crossed the yard, her green dress gathering mud around the hem. She reached the stables and, walking alongside, stopped in front of the last enclosure. Carefully patting the tavern's horse away from the side, she stepped over the straw bedding that she would need to clear up later.

In the corner, she carefully removed the straw which formed a little heap, to reveal a coarse wool blanket. Unfolding it carefully to one side, her hand dug into the secret hole thus concealed and retrieved a travel bad, her bag. Carefully, she extracted the servant dress Gwen had given her on her previous visit to the castle, and delved further to take out the only dress she now had left. It was rather worn out, but it would do until she could find enough money to buy some fabric, or maybe a second-hand dress from one of the farmer's wives, who were often on the lookout for a quick buck come the winter.

Undressing quickly, she pulled the coarse itchy fabric over her head, and tied her apron behind her back before quickly folding the green dress and shoving it back in the bag, covering it with the servant outfit. She drew the strings of the bag and looked at it for a minute or so, before reaching back for the brown bag and rummaging frantically, disrupting any semblance of order inside. Her fingers found it first, and her heart stilled at the coldness of the metal against her fingertips. Reverently, she took the item out of the bag and clasped it, her eyes riveted to it.

The locket was only a couple of inches long, and opened through a little hook at the top. The long gold chain looped around her fingers, its fine links gliding against her skin. She didn't need to look inside anymore to know what was there. She brought the locket to her lips and kept it there, drawing strength and support from it. Tears fell down onto the golden pebble in her hand but she did not will them away. Not anymore.

Shaking herself out of her own desperation, Ardena wipe her eyes with the back of her sleeves, and polished the locket lightly before carefully burying it at the bottom of her bag. Standing up, she dusted her dress lightly before walking back to the tavern. If Roland were indeed to keep her, she should at least prove herself to be useful, worthy of the hefty sum she knew had been laid down for her sake.