So I'm back, my darlings! I hope you missed me as I much as I missed all of you! So I have good news: I have plenty more writing time now! Yaaayyy! Thanks for being patient with me. :D

I know that things are developing pretty slow, but obviously it should take awhile for trust to develop between them. Would you trust a man who you watched kill men and then slammed you into a wall, or a woman who was brought up by your enemy and kept pretty much everything from you? No. So it's going to be slow for a bit. The action comes back in chapter 17. (;

This chapter is dedicated to BloodyHavoc and youronlydoll. :) You guys really made my day when I got your reviews, so this is for you!

"Today is a winding road that's taking me to places that I didn't want to go, whoa. Today, in the blink of an eye, I'm holding onto something, and I do not know why I tried. I tried to read between the lines. I tried to look in your eyes. I want a simple explanation for what I'm feeling inside. Gotta find a way out. Maybe there's a way out."-Boys Like Girls

*+*Aderyn*+*

After my uncomfortable moment with Tristan, I stayed out of the house for the rest of the day. Now that he was able to move around more freely I figured he wouldn't want to stay cooped up inside, but I never saw him. I estimated the amount of time until he would be able to leave for good, and decided that his stitches could come out in about two days and then it wouldn't be long after that before he was gone. Less than a week. I loathed admitting it, but I didn't want him to go. He wasn't the best company, but he was still another human. I was used to my solidarity, but that didn't mean I wanted it. I would have loved to be around people more often, but I had a feeling most of the Woads only refrained from attacking me because of Drenna and other people rarely ventured this deep into these woods.

The sun was setting, so I'd started to roast what was left of my rabbit catch from yesterday. A fire crackled warmly in front of me, and the smell of seasoned meat wafted through the air. It was lucky that I was a decent cook because Drenna was possibly the worst one I'd ever met. She knew how the theory, but for some reason she never failed to burn everything. I smiled at the thought as I pulled out materials to make new arrows. Egryn stepped on three of mine today. He was a bloody idiot sometimes.

I started to shave down the ends of the sticks with a dagger to make shafts, receiving a few splinters in the process. I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings, but I distinctly heard a horse approaching. I growled, slamming the half-finished arrow down on the ground.

"Dammit, Egryn! Did you figure out how to open the latch again?" I shouted. I turned, but it wasn't Egryn standing there. It was Tristan's dapple gray mare, staring at me curiously. I approached her slowly with my hands held out towards her.

"What are you doing here, girl?" I cooed, stroking her snout. "How did you get out of the stable?"

She neighed, and nipped at the sleeve on my tunic. "Your master would probably decapitate me if he knew I allowed you to go wandering off, so please don't run away," I said softly.

"I would, yes, but I let her out so it's not necessary."

I looked past the tall horse's shoulder, and Tristan stood there. His hair was fully dry now, and somehow already looked dirty again. He was looking at me seriously with an apple in one hand and a horse brush in the other.

"What is her name?" I asked, continuing to pet her. He came up on the right side, and started to brush her. I watched the rhythmic motions of his hands as he ran the brush along the length of her back.

"Isolde," he answered.

"Isolde," I repeated. She threw her head back proudly, and stamped the ground beneath her feet once. I giggled, running my fingers through her mane. Tristan remained quiet, and I imagined he was pretending like I wasn't there. When I was sure he would speak no more, I went back to the fire, checked on how the rabbit was cooking, and then went back to crafting the arrows. I'd completed three of them when Isolde neighed. I turned my head, and smiled at the sight.

Tristan stood in front of her, patting the sides of her long neck, and she had her snout resting on his shoulder affectionately. He was speaking to her quietly, and I saw the affection on his face that he'd yet to show until now.

"Is it only horses you can express love for," I asked, "or is it just anything besides human beings?"

His eyes darted to me, and then back to his horse. "Humans are cruel, and have the mindset to stab you when your back is turned. Animals rely on instinct, and will show love to those who show them love. Innocence. The value of it is lost to most people, but not to me."

It was the most he'd ever said to me, and for once he didn't sound patronizing.

"That is true," I admitted, "but it is not of all people."

"It is," he replied simply. "All humans have the capacity to turn on you."

"There are those who choose not to act like that," I pointed out. "For instance, you are the least talkative person I have ever come across, but I did not abandon you when you were injured because of it." I smirked at him. "In my defense, I didn't know how unfriendly you were. Maybe I would have thought twice about it if I had."

He snorted, and I turned back to my arrows, testing their weight and sharpness. I strung my bow, and nocked each one to make sure they were straight. Once they were perfect, I stood and aimed for a target Drenna had painted on a tree several yards away. She used it to teach me archery. I remembered all the lessons where I dissolved into tears because I was terrible at it. I let loose the arrow, and it sailed right above the target, not even hitting the outer ring. I frowned. It seemed like nothing much had changed since my youth. Whenever I did actually hit something I was aiming for, it was more a result of luck than any level of skill.

I nocked the next one, and prepared to shoot.

"Stop," Tristan said. I jumped a little hearing him so close behind me. I turned my head, and saw him standing only about a foot away. He pushed my chin so that I was facing the target. Before I could think about what was going on, he had one leg between mine. He kicked my ankle a little, and my legs spread wider. I flushed scarlet.

"Legs apart," he commanded. He moved forward until his chest was pressed against my back. I swallowed convulsively, hoping he wasn't feeling the same effects of the proximity as me. He curled his fingers over mine on the bow and arrow, adjusting them. "Arms straight, elbows up. Back straight." He let go of the hand holding the arrow, and splayed his hand flat on my stomach, pushing me even further into him.

My breath hitched at how close we were. Time seemed to still on the outside, and speed up on the inside. My breath sounded loud to my ears, and I felt like every single drop of blood pulsing in my veins was heated to boiling point. I sensed every move he made, even the barely noticeable rise and fall of his chest when he breathed. He leaned his head closer to me just as a gust of wind blew through the trees, and I felt his hair tickling my cheek as it moved with the breeze. I couldn't even think from the intensity. His lips were right next to my ear, and I could only just see his face out of my peripheral. His eyes were in the shadows underneath his hair, but he was nearer to me than he'd ever been.

"Shoot," he whispered, breath mingling with the breeze that touched my face.

I let go of the arrow with a twang, and it whizzed through the air, landing directly in the middle of the target with a thunk. I didn't notice this, however, as I was too busy looking at Tristan. He'd taken a step back, and nodded at me.

"Better," he said disinterestedly, starting to walk away. I remained where I was, the remnants of my blush remaining on my face, my bow still raised, and my mouth agape stupidly.

What just happened?

*+*Arthur*+*

I walked back to the camp later in a bad mood. I had not really received answers from the truthfully insightful Woad woman, nothing but more confusion. It seemed like all of her "answers" just lead to more questions. What could be so important to a Woad? The only things I could think of were some sort of weapon, or maybe even an animal of some sorts. I knew how Tristan was with his hawk, so I'd witnessed how easy it could have been for her to forge a connection with an animal.

Something was achieved during the meeting at least: I had ensured that if Tristan were found, he would be paid his final respects. I would pay homage to him our way when we got back home. I would bury something of his in place of his body, do the normal rituals, and stick one of his swords from the grave. I could not use his usual one because it was still lost, along with him. I knew he had a stash of weapons in his room though. I would just use one of those.

With a sinking feeling I realized I'd already accepted the death of the scout. We had searched for him for weeks. Hope had slid from my grasp, replaced with the usual pang of loss I felt at the thought of my other fallen knights. Gawain was right: I needed to face it. Tristan was dead. Injured or not, he would have found a way to contact us. There was no other excuse for him vanishing.

When I stepped into the camp, I was ambushed with eager questions from the others, and a frosty silence and glare from Gawain. I waved them away, and they were silent. I took a wine skin from my bundle of belongings, and took a long drink. I could feel their anticipatory stares on my back, and I took a deep breath.

"I met with Drenna," I started, in no hurry to get to the point.

"And?" Bors said impatiently. I stood up, and turned around to face them.

"She has said that there is something extremely important to her in that section of the forest. She has refused to tell me what, but she believes that we might ruin whatever it is. She says that she has been in there since Tristan's disappearance, and has seen so signs of him."

A bird chirped somewhere above us, but no other noise was made. All of their faces were a bit dumbfounded.

Lancelot recovered first, his face contorting into disbelieving anger. "That's it?"

I didn't reply, knowing that the rest of their assaults would come.

"This is just as bad as before!" Galahad continued. "We have no more answers than we did an hour ago."

"We know that he is not there," I replied calmly, showing them with my eyes that I was in no mood to be defied.

"And you believe her?" Gawain suddenly cut in. "You would take the word of a Woad, one of the people who have killed so many of us, and the very sister of their campaign leader?"

"Think about it, Gawain!" I shouted. "Why would she allow us to stay in these woods if she knew where he was? She does not want us here anymore than we want to be here! She has no reason to hide him! We are not at war, therefore she needs no prisoners!"

"WE ARE AT WAR!" he bellowed back. "WE ARE ALWAYS AT WAR WITH THE WOADS!" He threw the clay bowl that he was holding, and it shattered against a tree. "TRISTAN IS DEAD! HE'S JOINED THE REST OF US WHO WERE KILLED BY THEM, AND YOU REMAIN HERE ON SOME FOOLISH NOTION YOU HAVE THAT HE IS FINE! DO YOU WISH FOR THE REST OF US TO DIE, ARTHUR? IS THAT WHY YOU KEEP US HERE?"

He turned without another word, and strode off into the trees. Silence followed his outburst, and every knight looked away like they were embarrassed. Galahad glared at me, and then took off after Gawain.

"Does anyone else wish to storm off?" I asked, keeping my voice forcibly calm. "By all means, do so. I do not wish to stop you."

Dagonet ran his hand over the back of his shaved head, and then sat heavily back down where he stood, nodding to me confidently. Bors was next, flopping down next to his friend. Lancelot and I locked eyes, a silent conversation. He was trying to understand why I was staying here, and I tried to tell him that I was staying loyal to Tristan. He nodded almost imperceptibly, and sat down as well.

I turned around to hide the look of anguish. Never had so much discord been between us all. I knew what I had to do, even though I was not ready to stop fighting for the missing knight. If I wanted to keep peace between us all, I would have to leave…and soon.

*+*Aderyn*+*

After the archery incident, we didn't talk for the rest of the day. I saw him a few times, always with his horse or sharpening his weapons. Avoiding him was impossible, as he was a constant thought in my head, but not speaking to him was easy. He was never very talkative.

I made supper as usual. I let Egryn out, as he was antsy without his new favorite companion, Isolde, with him. I watched as they seemed to play tag together up ahead of me, grinning at their silliness

"Your horse is ruining mine," Tristan grumbled, dropping down heavily on the other side of the brewing stew.

"Sorry," I said immediately. He picked up the ladle, and a bowl and helped himself to the food. I was used to handing him his food, and leaving him to eat alone. It looked like I was going to have a guest tonight.

I wanted to ask him about the archery lesson, but didn't know how I could bring it up. I doubted he had the answers for what I wanted to ask about anyway. Like...why did my heart feel like it was trying to break out of my chest when he was that close? Why did the image of him from my dream seem so inviting? And most of all: why did the thought of him leaving now make me want to saddle Egryn and follow him to wherever he's going? Tristan couldn't possibly answer them, but I had no other place to go for answers.

There was a loud screech, and before I could collect my thoughts, a large bird landed next to Tristan on the log. I screamed, leaping up from my seat, and grabbed the first thing I saw to attack the bird with. I raised the wooden spoon high over my head, but found a restraining hand on my arm.

"Calm down, you crazy wench," Tristan growled, pushing me away. The hawk continued to squawk madly, hopping up and down on the log like a crazed rabbit with flailing wings. I watched as Tristan knelt before her, speaking lowly in a language I didn't recognize. Finally the bird calmed down, and started to preen, glaring at me viciously as it did so. Only when I saw the glare did I recognize it.

"That's the devil-bird!" I hissed, brandishing my spoon at it. "It has been following me, and accusing me of things!"

Tristan threw a rather sarcastic unfriendly look over his shoulder as he held out meat for the hawk. "She knew I was here."

The way the bird took the meat from him, and then nipped at his fingers afterwards made them seem awfully familiar with each other. She hopped again, and then snapped at him. He actually chuckled, stroking the feathers on her breast lovingly.

"How did you manage to tame a hawk?" I asked. Most of the things he did were baffling to me.

"I found her injured under a tree while I was on patrol," he explained, stroking her back lightly. "I healed her."

"What is her name?"

"She never told me."

I waited for him to laugh or smile, but he didn't. He wasn't joking. The bird took to his arm, and he said a few more things to her in that strange language before jerking his arm upwards. The bird took flight with another loud shriek, and I watched her until she disappeared.

"She hates me," I said conversationally.

"You tried to hit her with a spoon," he said scathingly.

"Well, she keeps verbally attacking me," I replied stiffly.

"She is a bird. She cannot do anything verbally."

"I liked it when you did not talk," I snapped. He smirked, thoroughly surprising me again. I expected him to get angry and broody again.

While I ate, he watched the forest. His eyes left nothing untouched, scanning every inch. Although he was as still as a dead man, his eyes never stopped moving. He struck me as the paranoid type. I set down my bowl, and flicked my eyes to him for about the thousandth time that night. He'd been studying one thing for awhile now, but I couldn't figure out what. He leaned over, and snatched up the spoon off the ground. He stared at something on the handle, running his thumb over it.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

I tried to hide my grin by biting my lip. I'd stolen it from a particularly stupid group of soldiers who'd been rather baffled by the appearance of Egryn, who stomped into their clearing like a fool. Two of them had run smack into each other and been knocked out. While they were in uproar, I stole the spoon, a pot, and a dagger before calling Egryn to come to me. Sometimes his idiocy was beneficial.

"I don't remember."

"Lie," he accused. He held it in front of my face, and pointed at a group of markings on the side. "Do you see this?"

"Yes," I said confusedly.

"Do you know what it says?" he asked.

My face reddened to my annoyance, and I glared past the spoon, to him. "I cannot read."

He seemed taken aback. "Not at all?"

I shook my head. "I can read some of the Woad language, but not much. It has been dying out for centuries. It's mostly only spoken now."

He raised his eyebrows, and withdrew the spoon from my personal space bubble. "Well, it states that it is the property of a Roman cavalry."

I couldn't hide my grin this time. "Oops."

He scoffed at me, tossing the spoon back to the ground, clearly not caring if I stole from Romans. I ran my hand through my hair to get it out of my face, staring at the symbols on the spoon. I willed them to make sense, but I obviously couldn't force myself to read with sheer will. I wanted to be able to. I glanced at Tristan then away. Perhaps he could teach me...but no. He would be gone soon. I couldn't learn to read in a matter of days.

Tristan jerked suddenly, posture going rigid. His eyes were staring at me piercingly, and I raised an eyebrow at him. "What?" I asked.

"You are the ghost," he said.

"I'm what?"

"Romans that come through here say the woods are haunted," he explained, "by a girl and her horse. They see her intermittently, but she always vanishes. Missing items...singing in the night..."

I blinked before bursting out laughing. Tears streamed down my face and I clutched my side, trying to calm my hysterics. It was probably five minutes before I controlled myself enough to speak. I was flat on my back on the ground, giggling at the black sky.

"Oh, Romans are gullible!" I wheezed. "Ghost, HA!"

"You are a thief," he said quietly.

I shrugged disinterestedly. "Survival of the fittest, my friend."

When he didn't reply, I closed my eyes, just listening to the sounds of the leaves blustering in the wind and Tristan's breathing. I was aware of how close his thigh was to my head. It seemed like any time I was close to Tristan I couldn't help but feel extremely warm, but not in temperature. He made me entire being feel warm, like the memories of the pain I'd felt in the past wouldn't be able to haunt me while he was around. I heard him stand, but didn't open my eyes. He clucked his tongue, and I heard the horses come to him. He whispered to them as he lead them away, and I just stayed there. I knew I'd have to get up, but I wasn't ready. It was still cozy next to the fire, and I wasn't ready to give it up yet.

And then there were two strong arms on me; one behind my head, and the other under my knees. I was lifted easily off the ground in one swift movement, and my eyes flew open. Tristan had picked me up, and was now walking me back to the house. He must have thought I was asleep. I clamped my eyes shut again, and tried not to grin. He was just as warm as in my dreams. He set me down on my bed, and I wanted to ask him where he would sleep. But then I felt a soft caress from my temple to my jaw. My heart fluttered at the contact. Was he touching my face?

It was gone as quick as it had come, and left me desperate to reach out for him. My finger twitched subconsciously, and I swallowed to stop myself from grinning. I felt like a foolish child with a crush on a boy, but maybe that's what I was.

My heart sunk, and any urge to smile or giggle went with it. That is what it was. I had feelings for the silent knight I'd saved.

Things just got a helluva lot more complicated.

There ya go. The soft and fuzzy feelings have been admitted. Except they won't remain that way for looooong. ;)

I'm thinking about not asking you guys for a certain amount of reviews anymore, but I would really like for this story to make 100 before it's over. It would really suck that I spent nearly all of my free time on it just for it go completely to waste. :( Let me know what you guys think about it in your review, I guess.

In the mean time, I ask for five reviews, if you please. (: Love you guys, and thanks for sticking with me when I was having personal troubles.