Note: Thanks for the reviews! A bit quicker than last time, but a bit slow I figure. Well enjoy. Let me know what you think should happen. Should she or should she not find love and that sort of stuff. Happy reading!

"Tristan is the only person who makes any sense now days and I am grateful that he puts up with my talking or else I would go insane..."

Written in the journal of Alexandrea

Time passes so slowly and I find myself missing my dark solitude. There is unrest in the air, like the quiet before a devastating storm, and I fear that the storm is not far off. Tristan has been my only confidant. I don't know why I turn to him, actually I think I do. He is not very complicated and he is not rooting for one person or the other. It is so nice to talk to someone who doesn't think I'm insane for not flinging myself into Gawain's arms right now. Most of the knights a very biased and think that I should be Gawain's woman, but I don't want to be anyone's woman and I can't seem to get them to understand that fact. Bors calls me insane and crazy; I don't think he can even comprehend that a woman would not want to get herself a man. Galahad is mad at me for not choosing his best friend. Lancelot thinks it's all pointless and believes I should just go with Gawain because he retrieved me from Marius's house. Dagonet has not opinion, which I appreciate, but I cannot talk to him as I do to Tristan because, to put it bluntly, Dagonet is not exactly an avid conversationalist. Of course, I cannot discuss any of this with Gawain or Conn because they are blinded and are not thinking with their heads at the moment. I really don't understand their attraction; I am no Helen of Troy, far from it to tell the truth. Guinevere is in love herself, with Arthur, I'm happy for her but that clouds her judgment and makes her thoughts float elsewhere when I speak with her. Arthur tries to help, but he is clueless about the matters of infatuation. Arthur is a solder, not a matchmaker. He is also very serious and has numerous other worries pressing in his mind, so I dare not burden him with my problems.

So, naturally, my confessions are left for Tristan to hear. He is a good sport about, he makes fun but he is not mean, and he listens to me without interrupting me and then advises me when I'm done telling me my problem. I think the other knights are shocked at this, for Tristan is not one to spent time with people. From what I hear from Guinevere, Tristan is the loner type who doesn't converse much with people besides his fellow knights, which, even with them, he does not talk to them as he talks to me. The other knights have noticed this and I think they believe Tristan and I are falling for each other. I've noticed Gawain glaring at Tristan lately, but Tristan doesn't care. Tristan seems to never care about things in general. All he cares about is living to see tomorrow, which makes sense. I do wish I could live that way, but, no matter how hard I try, always end up worrying about the future beyond tomorrow. Where will I go? What will I do? Such questions always end up swamping me, holding me down. It is frustrating and I don't know what to do to cure myself of such thoughts.

"What troubles you?" he asks me as I ride a spare horse with him.

"Nothing," I say.

Tristan shakes his head, "Something has to be, you are never this quite."

I smile, he always has to tease. "Just thinking about things."

"Thinking is dangerous," he says.

"I know, but I can't help it." We continue on with our usual banter on how thinking is bad, how attachments are horrible, and how there is no tomorrow until you live through today. I enjoy our repetitive conversations about these topics; they are somehow, reassuring and fun.

"Why do you talk to me like this?" I suddenly ask.

"What do you mean?"

"Why do you spend the time talking with me, from what I hear, it is completely out of character for you." He looks a bit surprise at first, but he quickly recovers himself.

"Thought I'd try something new."

I look at him. "You know what a sorry excuse that is?"

"Yes," he smiles. "But that's the best answer you're going to get."

I sigh. "Alright, I concede."

"Good, now I'll tell you the truth." I stare at him, surprised; I've never gotten anything out of Tristan that was serious without a fight. "There is no need to look so surprised. I put up with you because someone has to watch out for you." I shake my head, this is not an answer. He notices my disbelief. "It is true. While all the others try to do good in their own ways, they fail to see the bigger picture. You don't need a valiant warrior; you need someone to tell you the honest truth. Seeming I don't like to waste words on being subtle, I figured I would do good at the job. Just think of me as an annoying uncle or something like that."

I laugh. That is exactly what he is, the annoying relative that you like and hate at the same time. "You tell anyone else but me that?"

"No, why should I explain my motives to everyone?"

"I think Gawain thinks we've fallen for each other."

"I can take care of myself. If he calls me out, I'll give him a few knocks on the head perhaps that will knock some sense into him." We laugh. Good old Tristan. I don't know what I shall do without is sense of humor and laid-back personality.

As we ride one, we come across and unexpected visitor, Alecto finds us.

"Hello," he says awkwardly.

"Sir," I reply.

"Sir, Lady, I must depart." Tristan rides off, winking at me as he goes. I'm going to kill him for leaving me alone. He sees the look and just laughs as if to say that he'd like to see me try. I watch him go, feeling very uncomfortable and wondering why Alecto is here.

"Lady," he starts, his voice faltering.

"Yes, sir?" I inquire politely. I have to remind myself to behave and try to uncover the manners I once knew.

"I…" I meet his eyes and smile my court smile. "I have something to tell you."

"What could that be, sir?" I prompt him. He seems to be my age and extremely shy. I wonder if he has felt his father's brutality as well.

"Your father was Pelagius, was it not?"

I furrow my brow, "Yes, Pelagius is my father." I notice his use of 'was'.

"I feel that I should tell you." He pauses.

"Tell me what, sir?" Our eyes meet and I wonder how a man like Marius could spawn a son like Alecto. He bears none of the harshness of his father; he is more his mother, small, thin, and fey like.

"Your father, he is dead."

I stop, stunned. "What?"

"He died over a year ago."

"No, this cannot be true," I babble. It is a lie. It has to be.

"My father received a letter telling him of it. The Church had him hunted down and killed for fear of having him continue on with his work. They feared your father and his ideas."

I stare at Alecto, his face says he does not lie. "Impossible," I whisper.

"I'm sorry," he stutters, once again nervous. "I'm sorry for everything." I look at Alecto. I have only seen him from a far and so I inspect him. He feels guilty, like Arthur. He is apologizing for it all, even though it was not him who did it all. He took after his mother in every aspect, looks, mannerisms, and soul. If I had really been meant to marry him, I believe we would have been well suited. He would have never tried to dominate me, just dissuade me from overly heinous acts. I could have lived with him as my husband. Who knows, if we were married, time would have granted us a bond that was not love, but a strong liking that would have made it so that we could both be content. I shake such thoughts from my head.

"Why do you tell me this?"

"I felt that you deserved to know." I want to mad at someone, but I know that Alecto is not his father and he does not deserve my wrath.

"I thank you," I reply. He seems to sense my moods and he is quiet. Father is dead. It is hard to process it, but I am not surprised. It was strange that the Church allowed him to leave. I am lost in the moment, and when I return, Alecto is still riding with me; he looks at me with concern.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I reply, faking a smile.

"It is sad news, but you don't seem as surprised as I would have thought."

"I have a lot of time to consider things. Also, with what I have seen and experienced, it would be out of character of the Church officials to let my father go. I know what I speak is probably bad to say, but I have passed the point where I cared or even feared the Church. It is made up of men, and men are human and make mistakes."

Alecto looks a bit shocked at my bitter words. "The Church is meant to guide us."

"No, we are meant to guide ourselves and make our own choices. We are free to choose our own fates."

Alecto looks at me as if I'm insane. Perhaps I am. "I don't understand."

"I don't expect you to. I thank you for telling me about my father's death. Now if you will excuse me, I would like to be alone."

Alecto still stares at me as I ride away. I think I shocked him a bit, but he needs to know that not everyone worships the Church as he does. My mind is a whirl of emotions. I must tell Arthur, but I don't know how. I see him not very far ahead of me and take a deep breath. It is now or never. I ride up beside him.

He greets me.

"Arthur, there is something I must tell you."

"What?" he asks concern.

I try to speak, but my voice will not cooperate. Finally, I relax and blurt it all out. "Father is dead."

He stares at me in disbelief.

"He is. Alecto told me about the letter his father received about it. They hunted him down and killed him." Arthur's face falls and grieve engulfs his face. "It happened about a year ago."

We look at each other. "I'm so sorry," we say in unison.

"We both grieve for a father lost," I say. "He was as much my father as yours. You and I shall now be brother and sister and mourn our father lost and remember his life and his teachings. If we can, we will continue on with is work."

Arthur looks at me. "He's dead. Pelagius."

I nod. Arthur slowly begins to come back to himself. "Yes, he may be lost but never forgotten."

"He can never be forgotten, not if we carry on his teachings," I say.

"We will." Arthur and I look at each other, no words pass between us, but I know that he knows that we are the children of Pelagius, and he agrees that we are as brother and sister.