Please review! With an update this big, I really am looking forward to hearing reviews. I'm worried this bit was a bit rough, as I have a little trouble writing intimate/romantic scenes (Love reading it, but when it comes to writing it, its almost painful) Please, review, so I know I should keep working at it, tough scenes and all!

Dagonet could, however, and he reached forward to remove the mug from Senna's hands. Skillfully he lifted it to her lips and gently poured some of its contents into her mouth. It was water, she was relieved to note. Once he set the mug down again, the knight reached down and lifted one of her bandaged hands. He gave a small grunt, then stood and moved to a corner of the room where the healing supplies were being kept.

"Guinevere should have changed your bandages earlier. Woad." He picked up a roll of ragged but clean cloth, and walked back to her pallet.

Senna's lips twitched. The fact that he was insulting Guinevere's healing practices had to mean he cared for her, didn't it?

"I didn't really give her a chance to, so it's not her fault," She commented mildly. Dagonet only grunted again.

He carefully began to unwrap the cloth from her hands. Senna tried to ignore the burning feeling, but couldn't help the whimper that escaped as he peeled away the last piece of cloth lying on her skin. Reflexively she jerked back, but Dagonet's hands held her own firmly, so that she couldn't even wiggle her wrist.

He grimaced, frowning at her hand as he turned it over, then began bandaging it again. Senna caught a glimpse of her fingers, and felt slightly nauseated. They looked like singed raw meat.

"You shouldn't have done it," He told her, a note of irritation in his voice. Senna stared at him, having never seen him show any hint of negative emotion before.

"I'm…sorry…" She murmured, blinking back tears, "I can honestly say I was only trying to help you…I thought maybe you wouldn't mind the magic, if it honestly helped." She swallowed against the lump in her throat.

He paused his movements, and his hand tightened on her wrist, causing Senna to hiss. Immediately he relaxed his grip, but he stayed still, staring at her hand intently, before jerking his gaze up to hers.

"That's not what I mean!" His voice was just short of a yell, and Senna jumped, her eyes widening. He didn't seem to notice, though his voice was quieter as he continued.

"I was trying to save you, and then you go and try to kill yourself anyway. I don't care about the bloody magic. It was surprising, but hardly something that is going to make me angry at you, considering it's as much a part of you as your soul." Dagonet took a deep breath, and resumed wrapping her hands.

Senna stared mutely at him. It was the longest speech she'd ever heard him give.

"So…you—you aren't…" She said tentatively, pausing as she tried to re-gather her thoughts. She wanted to ask, do you care for me? Is that why you're angry? Was Guinevere right; are you actually in love with me? But she couldn't bring herself to say such things. She fell silent.

Neither said anything as he re-bandaged her other hand, then threw the old cloth out. To Senna's joy, he didn't leave after the task was done, but came back and sat in the chair. It was then that Senna noticed the lines of strain in his face. She frowned, her own healer's nature coming out.

"You shouldn't be trying to tend me when you need someone tending you as well."

"I'm fine." Dagonet told her, "Simply tired."

"You were shot by a quarter-dozen arrows. You're more than tired."

Dagonet stared at her silently for a few seconds, then unceremoniously lifted his simple brown shirt over his head.

Senna stared, she really had seen right when the magic had taken her over. White scars were all that remained of the arrow wounds. There wasn't even bruising around them. Raising her eyes, she gasped, and blinked, thinking perhaps her eyes were playing tricks on her. They weren't.

On Dagonet's chest, right in the spot above his heart, there was another, much bigger scar. A scar in the shape of a woman's hand.

"What…" Senna switched her gaze down to her own hands.

"I…that's…" She remembered the sudden rush of magic pouring from her body to Dagonet's.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it would scar you." She told him dazedly.

He huffed, "Stop apologizing for things you shouldn't be sorry for."

"But…doesn't it bother you?" She could only imagine how people would stare if they saw it. Perhaps they might even think Dagonet was subject to some kind of curse. A million horrible scenarios flew through her head. He didn't know how badly people could react to something they viewed as "witchcraft".

She realized her breathing was very fast and shallow, but she couldn't help herself. She was frightened, she had been since she'd woken up. Frightened of her past, her future, how Dagonet—how everyone—would react, frightened of herself. She wasn't supposed to be able to do things like that.

Dagonet lay a hand at her throat, feeling her pulse.

"Calm down, Senna. Calm." He raised his other hand to stroke her face, down her shoulder and arm, to one of her hands. He lifted it to the scar on his chest.

"I don't mind, at all. Your hand was on my heart far before now." There was concern in his eyes, but his lips curled up in a small smile.

Senna's breaths slowed as she processed his words. "Really?"

He nodded, and Senna felt her expression widen into a grin that she couldn't stop.

"Well…good. I've been searching for a heart like yours for a long time," She remarked.

Dagonet leaned down and gently kissed her forehead. Senna shivered, and this time it wasn't from trepidation.

She stared into his eyes for a slow moment, willing him to kiss her again, next time not on the forehead. She was fairly certain he was about to oblige her when the moment was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Jerked back into reality, both of them became aware of a horrendous babbling sound coming from outside the door. Without either of them inviting them in, the door opened, and Bors, a pretty woman Senna assumed was Vanora, Guinevere, and thousands of children flowed into the room.

"You're awake! Bloody fright you both gave us!" Bors shouted, pounding his brother on the back, and then reaching for Senna. She couldn't help but cringe slightly.

"Here now! Don't go flattening the poor girl, you lout!" Vanora cried, slapping away Bors's arm before it reached Senna. She smiled at the blonde girl.

"I'm Vanora. Been helping care for you the past few days."

Senna smiled back at her, "Thank you. I'm Senna."

One of the children—in reality, Senna saw, there were only about a dozen—detached himself from the pack and jumped onto Senna's pallet.

"You're okay!" Lucan hugged her, having the sense to be careful. He then sprang up again, "They have a lot of food here! And I have friends," He pointed to the group of children who were either investigating the room, clambering on their parents, or staring at Senna.

Senna laughed, "That's wonderful."

"All right you little monsters," Vanora called, "We need to go get more supplies!" She looked back at Senna, "We were only stopping by on our way. It's good to see you awake,"

Senna nodded, a happy smile still on her face. Vanora gathered up the children and herded them out the door.

Bors lingered for a moment, "Thank you," He said to Senna, his expression serious, "I'm indebted to you, we all are."

"No," Senna shook her head. "It's not an action for a debt. Just a friendship,"

"Bors!" Vanora yelled from down the hall, "Come and take some of your children!"

Giving a shrug, Bors exited—rather quickly Senna noticed.

"Dagonet, you go back to your room, you need rest." Guinevere ordered. He gave a negating grunt.

"And so does Senna," Guinevere pointed out. She was right, Senna felt her eyes drooping. Sleep was a comforting thought, yet at the same time, she fought it, wanting to have every last second with Dagonet.

However, Guinevere's last comment had caused him to stand, he caught Senna's eyes with his own one last time, and gave her a smile, a look she returned.

"Go on," Guinevere said mildly. Quietly the knight exited the room.

"Where's Arthur?" Senna asked sleepily.

An almost despairing look passed over Guinevere's face.

"I'm not sure…and I need to talk to him terribly."

She said something else, but Senna was already falling into the shadows of sleep.