(a/n: Ok, sorry this is so late. Like I said before, I've been busy with school lately for please forgive me. Hopefully you'll like the chapter. It's kind of a short interlude and the next chapter should be up soon. Please review and give me any suggestions you may have or comments. Thanks for the reviews so far. Enjoy!

-Modesty)

Chapter 6: A Heart Changed, a Heart Mended

The sky belonged to the night and the stars had risen high in it, glistening in the blue beyond with silvery twinkles of light that reflected upon the earth in a peaceful glow. Mirrored in glowing embers were the dancing red flames of a small campfire.

Tristan sat down gloomily beside it, sheltered by its luminescent light. He had been about walking through the decollate trees of the forest for quite some time. The deep words he had so recently spoken pounded like drums in his ears. A shallow pit of regret had already begun deepening within his heart and the heart wrenching sight of Adima's saddened face echoed in his busily kept mind.

He was so lost in thought; he didn't notice Gawain stumbling in the dark towards the light of the fire. "Tristan," Gawain's voice was soft; he must have been sleepy for he looked it to Tristan. "What, what are you doing up so late?"

"Couldn't sleep," Tristan muttered, looking off into the dim distance at the wagon in which Adima was trying herself to get some peaceful sleep. Tristan's eyelids grew heavy, and he stared down, avoiding Gawain's awakening gaze.

Gawain blinked heavily; the light of the fire hurt his eyes for he had indeed just woken form his slumber. A dream had awoken him.

In this dream, he had seen a Saxon standing before him, silvery blue eyes fixed on his every move in the heat of battle. The Saxon approached him slowly and suddenly was sinking in a pool of water. Without a single sound to be heard, Gawain reached down and pulled the Saxon free of the water's tight grasp upon her waist. It was at this point that he had awoken, unnerved by what he had just seen in his mind.

"I had the strangest dream," Gawain began in a daze. Tristan turned to him blankly; the lateness of the night was beginning to tire him. Gawain noticed in the back of his mind that Tristan didn't appear all that interested in what he was saying, but his lack of sleep drove him to not care, or at least, forget this immediately, and he began telling Tristan of his strange dream.

Adima grumbled in her half sleep. A chilling cold seared up her legs and subconsciously she realized her legs were no longer covered by the blankets she and Guinevere were sharing. Her fingers reached around her, her eyes shut tight, searching blindly for the warm covers.

She grumbled again when she failed to find them and slowly opened her tired eyes. Everything around her lacked the glow of light, and she could barely make out her sleeping sister next to her, covered comfortably in their blankets.

"Guinevere," she mumbled angrily, snatching up the covers from her sister. By the time she had wrapped herself in them again, however, she had almost fully awoken.

She stared blankly up at the top of the wagon, remembering again, with pain, her earlier confrontation with Tristan. She wanted to go back to sleep if she could and forget all about it; but her mind it seemed, wouldn't let her.

As she lay quietly, she heard muffled voices of the night. Her ears began picking up the sounds of Gawain's and Tristan's slowly progressing conversation. She now was fully awake and listening intently to what they had to say. It was hard to hear every word but she was able to make out most of them if she strained her ears hard enough to hear.

"Tristan, I don't think I've ever seen you look so down," Gawain teased half-heartedly, after realizing, as strange as his dream was to him, Tristan didn't care at all what it was about or what he was saying. He tried to direct the conversation to something Tristan would hopefully respond to.

Tristan finally converted his blank expression to that of a sullen one. "Ahh," he muttered somewhat frustrated. "Adima," he stopped there not really wanting to talk about it.

"Oh," Gawain gave a little laugh. "Women," he smiled. "I see how it is. They can be trouble can't they?" he asked playfully.

"Aye," Tristan agreed, putting a little more effort into the conversation. "And Woads."

Gawain laughed at this concluding comment. "It has nothing to do with the race," he said, smiling. "Women are women; you have to let that be and take the prettiest one you can find; or that'll have you," he joked.

Tristan gave the slightest hint of a smile at this.

"So what's the trouble?" Gawain continued.

It took a while for Tristan to answer this. He had already begun to realize that Adima was not at fault for their earlier, less positive confrontation. It was indeed he, who would bring their relationship to an end, and may already have if his racial ways continued.

"Maybe it's my fault," he slowly admitted. Gawain frowned, now understanding somewhat what may have happened. He and the other knights had long known about Tristan's passionate hate for Woads. Most surely didn't expect he would give that up for the sake of a romance with one, but Gawain had hope for them, being a strict believer in true love himself, and seeing potential all around the two.

"Want to tell me what happened between you two?" Gawain asked a little more seriously now.

"She tried to kiss me," Tristan said slowly. "And I told her no," he sighed. "Maybe I was wrong," he added shaking his head, regretting his former notion.

"Because she's a Woad," Gawain added distastefully. "Tristan," he began to protest against Tristan's beliefs and perhaps try to mend his torn feelings and change his friend's mind.

Tristan's mind, however, was already changing. "I know, I know," Tristan scowled, unaware that Adima now had risen from her make-shift bed and was listening even closer to their conversation. "I was wrong," he admitted quietly.

"Do you love her?" Gawain asked forwardly.

Tristan was a little taken back by this sudden question given without warning; Gawain was prone to doing such things, as asking things without a hint or warning. He of course wasn't sure how to answer this.

"Tell me," Gawain smiled, pushing his friend into saying something.

"I feel for her," Tristan mumbled a little embarrassed. Gawain's smile grew and his jolly eyes sparkled, smelling a change of heart in the late night air. "I-I, don't know if I love her. I hardly know her."

"My mother loved me at birth," Gawain stated. "She didn't know a thing about me," he laughed.

Tristan scowled at this half joke. "Yes, but that's different."

"How?"

"Well, it's your mother; of course she loves you," Tristan spat, failing to see the humor in this.

Gawain chuckled at the seriousness Tristan always took things. The most lighthearted joke could bare a truly deep meaning to Tristan, and this highly amused some of the other knights, especially Gawain with his knack for jokes and cheery nature; and of course Bors who also was a big joker and lived life to make and watch people smile, among other things of course.

The light of the fire gave much needed warmth to the two knights as their conversation continued early into the morning, but Adima managed to stay warm enough where she was just by hearing the comforting words that were spoken by Tristan that night. Little more was mentioned about her and she was very well satisfied with all that she'd heard.

As the glow of the stars above began waning, the conversation came to an end, and all three people, weary form the night's events finally found themselves in wrapped in slumber's arms; Adima most comforted with a smile lit across her face as she closed her sleepy eyes and became a victim to the weariness of the night.

(a/n: I hope you enjoyed! Please review. Thanks.)