Evil schoolwork! Yes, that is what is wrong. Schoolwork. It's so evil. I've had at leasttwo tests and five assignments each week. do you know how much that kills? anywho, I made sure I did this lil update today, and I plan doing a big update again soon xD

Hope you enjoy, and remember, reviews are much love

"That was delicious, Arthur. My compliments to your cooks," Padmé smiled.

Arthur smiled back and nodded. "They have outshone themselves this time, have they not my dear?"

"Indeed, dearest," Guinevere smiled to Arthur, resting her hand on his arm.

Padmé grinned at the gesture inwardly. The claims that Guinevere insisted on laying upon every man present was amazing. Amazing that not one of the men realised what Guinevere was doing to them – bewitching them so that they would fall in love with her. And it was so clear to Padmé.

Choking back laughter, Padmé rose from the infamous round table. "I will go and visit Honor now. I hope to start trying to heal her mental wound."

The knights and Guinevere all stood – although it can be said that more than one knight stumbled as he stood, grabbing hold of the table for balance.

"We will see you later?" Guinevere asked, a smile plastered over her face.

"Of course, my lady," Padmé bobbed quickly to Guinevere, and then left the room.

"She is most efficient," Guinevere smiled around the room and sat down again to continue eating.

---

Padmé giggled slightly as she strode down the seemingly endless corridors.

Guinevere was an act. She was so charming, so delightful, just so long as she knew that she would get her own way in things. And also that she would be able to keep all the men lusting after her, but of course, she would forever be just out of reach, leaving all men heartbroken as she kissed Arthur.

As her mind fell upon the main concern however, Padmé quickly sobered up. What was Honor doing here, at Hadrian's Wall? What had happened to her that made her become such a recluse to the world? That was what puzzled Padmé the most.

Sighing slightly, she opened the door that led into the chamber's that belonged to Lancelot.

"You're back," a quiet voice said sharply, almost accusingly.

"Indeed my dear, I am," Padmé smiled at Honor, who lay on the bed staring past Padmé to the door.

"Did you not do my physical examination properly? I can assure you that you did examine me thoroughly. I still feel sore from the number of times that I was prodded and poked by you, dearest Padmé," Honor smiled at Padmé, although in Padmé's eyes it was more of a sneer.

"Arthur was pleased with what I had to report to him…" Padmé was cut off by Honor coughing on purpose.

"You never told me what was wrong with me, my dear. Will you not tell me as I lie on my deathbed, thinking I have naught but a slight cold?" Honor glanced innocently up at Padmé.

"If you were going to die, or if you were struck with a near-fatal fever, I think you would know. And if you did not realise that, I would hurry to tell you," Padmé replied.

"Oh, indeed? Pray tell me then, what you do here, for it can surely not be a pleasure visit for you."

"Everyone believes that you are not quite well mentally," Padmé chose her words carefully "and so Arthur would like me to see if there is anything that I could possibly do for you as a healer."

"Is that so?" Honor sneered. "And what, dear healer, is the matter with me?"

"Physically, you are wounded. Badly yes, but not so bad that it warrants a surgeon caring for you all the time. You already have some stitches, and I think that they will suffice the job that they are needed for," Padmé said.

"And yet my mental state leaves a lot to be desired?" Honor asked.

"Arthur is worried, Honor. Can you not respect that?" Padmé replied, desperately wishing for an answer to Honor – she was just wishing that Honor would be reasonable.

"Have people respected what I wanted? Ever!" Honor asked, her eyes flashing across Padmé's face.

"They have, Honor. You know this. I care about you, as if you were my own sister…" Padmé replied desperately.

"Aye, and if you were to have your way, then you would be my sister," Honor muttered darkly.

"What was that, Honor?" Padmé looked at Honor's face.

Honor shrugged.

"Whatever you may think about me, please know that I really do care about you," Padmé stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at Honor.

"You cared abut me, when you were taking him away from me?" Honor glared.

Padmé stared down at Honor in horror and in shock. "I never took him away from you Honor, never!"

"You didn't? So why was I forever measured and wanted behind you! If I ever wanted to talk to him – 'Oh my pet you cannot talk to the Master at the moment, he is talking with Padmé. He may be able to talk to you afterwards. Come with me and I can find some needlework for you to do. Once you have started, I will let Master know that you wish to speak to him, and so he may come and see you if he has time' – that would be the response. Whenever I wanted to talk, for things to be like old times, it could not possibly be. You were always there, held in awe over me," Honor cried, a bitter tear ran down her face.

"He told me that he was worried about you. You seemed to never talk to people. You wouldn't talk to us!" Padmé said urgently.

Honor stared at her. "Padmé, that would be because after the number of times I tried to talk to either of you and was ignored, it seemed pointless to keep talking to something that did not exist."

Padmé stood, looking at Honor with a mixture of shock and sadness etched over her face.

"Aye, and now that the truth has been told, you do not wish to hear it," Honor muttered, and turned her face away from Padmé. "Please go, I am tired."

Padmé turned away slowly and walked to the door. "If you want me Honor, I will be next door in the chamber that Arthur gave to me for my own uses."

---

Once inside her own chamber, Padmé sank down onto the bed. Seeing Honor in this state made the past come alive for her in ways that she wished could stay buried. What would her brother say if he could see her? He would not believe it no matter how much Honor had changed in the past few years. Running her hands through her hair, Padmé sighed. There was only one option.