(A/N: Alright, sorry but I really don't have time to personally thank reviewers. I'm so glad you guys like my story and thanks SO much for the reviews. The next chapter still might be a while, because now I'm writing a bunch of other stuff, including a Phantom of the Opera Phanfic that I'll start posting soon. I'll update as soon as I can. Please review some more! )

Chapter 11: To Return Home

They stood outside the edge of the woods. Adima had said her farewells to everyone she could find on short notice. The caravan was getting ready to start traveling again, so Adima couldn't find all the knights. She found Lucan, bid him goodbye, and told her sister they'd see each other soon.

Guinevere was sad to see Adima leave, but she stood by Arthur on the matter. Adima felt bitterly betrayed. She'd risked everything to save Guinevere from Marius' dungeon, and this was how she was to be repaid. Her sister never fought Arthur on his decision to ask Adima to leave.

Though the young Woad started to agree herself, she still felt betrayed by Guinevere. As Tristan had advised, Adima was not to dwell on the unfitness of her life. Of course, this was much easier said than done, and even easier to advise someone else than do yourself.

But Adima tried to put all of this out of her mind. She knew there was a chance that she'd never see any of the knights again; this of course, included Tristan, the man she'd grown to love.

Tristan embraced Adima, as a chill and bitter wind flowed swiftly and mercilessly passed them. Adima buried her face in Tristan's chest. Again she apologized for her actions, and again, Tristan dusted them off his shoulder.

"Goodbye," Adima said, slowly backing away. Her eyes were filled with tears. "I don't expect we shall see each other again." Tristan said nothing.

He looked down at the snow, with a saddened expression. "Farewell," he finally said, looking up into Adima's eyes.

Adima looked back at the slowly moving caravan. She looked at Tristan one last time, wishing she didn't have to leave, but she felt it was for the best. Besides, she figured it was too late to turn back now.

She slowly turned, and left. Tristan soon lost sight of her in the woods. He only wished he'd talked to her more, in the time that he'd known her; but sometimes, they needn't rely on words to say things. He knew that, and he knew Adima understood him.

He slowly started down the slight hill he stood on, towards Passebreul, and the rest of the knights.

Tristan gathered the reins in his hands as he passed by Arthur. His hawk sat perched on his shoulder. "Arthur," he said.

Arthur turned his head. "Yes, Tristan?"

Tristan glared at the road ahead of him, avoiding Arthur's eyes. "Adima's gone," he said.

"I'm sorry, Tristan," Arthur sighed. "I know you two got along well," there was no hint of a tease in his firm tone.

"You asked her to leave," Tristan said, anger swelling up inside him; he tried to hide it.

"It is best Tristan."

"Arthur, how would you know?" Tristan inquired.

"It is not like you to doubt my decisions," Arthur said a little stunned, but not angry at all. "It is for the best that Adima is gone."

"I could have made that call myself," Tristan shot back, still trying his best to remain calm.

Both men glanced at each other, both frowning. "I am sorry you question my judgment, Tristan," Arthur said. "Adima did agree to go."

Tristan said nothing; perhaps, he thought, he'd said too much.

There was never much conflict between Arthur and himself. The other knights seemed to take a friendly advantage of Arthur's kindness to them; something any other Roman officer would not have displayed. But Tristan was different. He held back his tongue, and only spoke to Arthur, especially against him, only when he thought it absolutely necessary.

Passebreul picked up a steady trot, his tail swishing behind him as he skipped past the caravan. Tristan was glad he was going to be scouting. The quiet of this duty always seemed to calm him.

Snow fell from the sky like rain. It soon turned to hail; a bad omen in the eyes of the knights. Adima thought nothing of it; except she had to careful she walked under thickly branched trees so as not to get hit in the head.

She heard a sudden rustle in the brush ahead. She put her hand on her sword, ready to pull it out if needed.

A lone figure stepped out from behind a fence of bushes. He was taller than Adima, and had longer than shoulder length brown hair. A tattoo of a round sun was carved into his forehead.

Adima released her grip on the sword. A dark bay horse followed the man out of the brush, even though he was lead by no reins. "Briac," Adima sighed out of relief that it was not a Saxon soldier or scout.

The man looked at Adima with an intense flare in his eyes and gritted teeth. "Adima," he acknowledged, raising his chin a little higher. He spoke then in the tongue of his ancestors. "Where are the others?"

"I am all that is left," Adima lowered eyes, remembering those she'd lost at the hands of the knights.

"Saxons?" he inquired angrily.

"No, Arthur's knights." She could see that her words were infuriating the Woad. "We attacked them," Adima continued. "They spared me, at Guinevere's will. They saved her, from a terrible fate."

Briac seemed to be growling. His eyes were sharp and focused on Adima's. "The great Merlin has explained the fate of your sister, but he said nothing of what had become of you."

"Did you not think I'd return to you?" Adima asked, hiding her intended tone of satire.

The man's eyes calmed and he patted his horse's thick neck. "My worry grew like leaves on the trees," he finally said, cupping Adima's face in his hands.

Adima's eyes shifted uneasily from his to his hands, and back at him. She took a step back. "Forgive me," she said. "I long to return home."

"And Guinevere?"

"I don't know when she will come," Adima frowned, already missing her sister. "I have been traveling on foot for two days; perhaps the caravan has reached the wall." Adima could see Briac was slightly confused. "Arthur leads a caravan through the mountain pass," she informed.

Her words then twisted into a little white lie, for she knew it would be better if she said what she was thinking of. "I left, knowing I should return home to you, and our people."

"That is good," Briac nodded his approval. "Perhaps some day, we shall meet Arthur and his knights again." Adima smiled slightly at the thought of being reunited with Tristan; Briac smiled for a far different reason. He wanted to kill Arthur, despite Merlin's well known plan to keep him alive.

He could at least kill one or two of the knights, he thought. Merlin didn't care as much for them as he did their leader. These feelings, of course, he kept hidden within him.

Adima glanced at Briac's steed. "Why are you out in the forest so far?"

"I am a scout," he confirmed. "With the Saxons closing in on us, we can't be too careful."

"Of course," Adima said, remembering her last two encounters with the Saxons.

"Well, come," Briac started to walk back towards their forest abode, his horse following obediently behind. "Merlin will be awaiting your arrival." Adima nodded, and followed in silence.

Merlin welcomed Adima home with open arms. As he embraced her, she felt a sense of welcoming that she had not felt for a long time. "My child," he said.

"It is good to see you, Merlin," Adima smiled. "Merlin," her smiled faded. "I am all that is left of the group that left to rescue my sister."

"I know," Merlin said. "And more lives will be lost in the coming days."

Adima looked perplexed. "The Saxons," Merlin began. "They will reach the wall by tonight, I am sure. When is it that your sister will choose to appear?" He said it more than asked.

"Shall I send a rider for her?" Adima asked, now concerned for Guinevere's safety.

"A rider will be dispatched," Merlin smiled. "You have walked a long journey."

"Yes," Adima agreed.

"Now is the time you should rest," Adima noted a little twinkle in Merlin's eye; an eerie feeling of mystery surrounded him. "Spend the time wisely, with your betrothed," both Merlin and Adima glanced towards Briac, who looked back at them with a slight smile from where he stood a distance away, tying up his horse to a tree. "No one knows what tomorrow will bring," Adima thought hard on what Merlin was revealing to her. Were there more to his words than what she plainly heard?

"War is upon us," Merlin spoke clearly and with wisdom. "Spend the rest of these calm hours with one whom you love." As he finished saying this, he smile innocently and raised his gaze towards Hadrian's Wall, in the direction of the Roman fort.

Adima followed his gaze. "I will summon Guinevere," she said finally.

"Take a horse then," Merlin said smiling.

Adima frowned, unsure of herself. "I-I cannot ride; not alone" she said meekly.

Merlin had nothing to protest. "Then Briac will go with you."

Adima's eyed widened. She should have not said that. "I could try riding alone," she finally said, still not sure of herself.

"Briac!" Merlin summoned him over.

Briac's horse followed behind him like a meek hound, head hung low, taking quick snips at the grass. "Take Adima to the fortress at the wall," the old man instructed.

Adima frowned; there was no telling what would happen at the fort now. Briac nodded at Merlin's request.

"And Briac," Merlin beckoned him closer. "Leave Arthur alone; we need him.

Briac nodded again. "Come Adima," he said leading her to the horse's side and lifting her onto its back.

He then mounted. Adima squirmed. It was much more painful, she thought to ride a horse without a saddle. She wondered if she would be able to stay on.

Adima reluctantly gripped Briac's bare sides, and nearly fell off already as the horse jolted forward, bounding swiftly through the forest.

( Tristan- cool…Briac- stupid…lol)