"Gawain! Bors!" Galahad beamed as he darted into the round chamber, grinning brightly then scanned the room for his sister. When she was nowhere in sight and he registered the pain filled faces, dread struck him like a thunderbolt. "Where is she?" He asked in a deadly tone and for a moment, no one answered. "I SAID, WHERE IS SHE?"

"Galahad, please try to calm yourself." Guinevere soothed as she walked around to touch his shoulder but he leaped back from her.

"Where is she? Where is my sister? Where's Maya?"

"If you calm down, I shall take you to her." Gawain stepped forwards slowly, knowing that Galahad was likely to strike out in such a rage but at Gawain's soft promise, the young knight breathed a deep breath then nodded.

"Show me." He croaked then turned, following Gawain away from the room. On the way the young knight looked back. "Where is Tristan?"

"He is not yet returned, he is patrolling the borders to make sure none escaped." Gawain answered quietly in reply. "I shall bring him too when he returns." Trembling like the frailest of leaves in the strongest of winds, Galahad followed Gawain like a lost puppy, hurting inside at the thought at losing his sister.

"Tell me Gawain, does she still live?" Gawain paused, reluctant to lie before sighing.

"I would say goodbye if I were you." Galahad chocked on a sob then struck the wall, curling his arms over his head as he began to sob uncontrollably.

"I should not have let her stay!"

"She would not have forgiven you had you tried to alter her will." His friend soothed, keeping back as he knew it unwise to try and comfort Galahad physically. "Come, she might be encouraged to keep fighting if she hears your voice." Nodding his head Galahad strode forwards but when Gawain gestured to a door in the healers' wing, he flung it open and rushed inside.

"Maya!" He sobbed again and gathered his sister carefully into his arms, weeping over her body which was as cold as ice, her lips tinged blue as her once pale skin now looked ashen grey, blood matting her hair but Galahad held her close despite this, pouring his tears onto her body as she lay perfectly still, barely breathing.

Gawain recited the story of what had happened at Galahad's request, the knight unable to stop the torrents that dripped down his face as he kissed Amaya's brow. "Sweet sister, I failed you. I promised I would keep you from harm and now you lay dying in my arms." Galahad whispered and Gawain slowly rose to leave them both alone.

At a loss for what else to say, Galahad set her carefully down on her bed then poured some water into a bowl, taking a cloth then began to sponge the blood from her hair and body where he could reach modestly, not wanting to intrude upon her pride. Somehow she looked worse without the blood on her. She looked far more ghostly and at one point, Galahad saw her chest stop rising where he cried out in fear until he saw her take the tiniest of breaths and he swallowed back another wave of tears. He paced the room, glancing her way as he struggled to find words to say to her. Amaya was a woman of few but meaningful words until you needed to hear something that required many, then she would speak them and soothe any worry a person may have. Galahad did not know how to do that. He could babble like an idiot but he could not do that to her, it would only make Amaya feel guilty and he needed to be stronger than that so she could draw strength from him.

Not two moments later Gawain opened the door and Tristan strode inside. The moment his eyes rested on Amaya, he stiffened into a statue, his bow falling from one hand as his sword fell from the other, his mask slipping completely free from his face. Both knights stared at the scout in shock, he never dropped his weapons in such a disregarding manner, not for any reason.

Blinking Gawain glanced to Galahad before slipping away. "Maya." Tristan's soft call awoke Galahad from his shock and he watched as Tristan slowly approached her bedside. "Maya?"

"It's too late Tristan." Galahad muttered bitterly. "There's nothing to be done." Refusing to believe the pup's words, Tristan reached out and began to stroke Amaya's hair, gazing down at her intently and Galahad stared at the contact. Tristan truly did care for his sister. He had never seen the scout be so tender to anyone, especially not a woman.

"Maya, breathe." Tristan commanded in a firm voice.

"Tristan…" Galahad tried to explain but the words died in his throat, unable to voice the harsh truth. The scout leaned forwards and pressed his lips to Amaya's ear, whispering tentatively.

"Breathe." Slowly Amaya took a breath. "Breathe deeper." Again Amaya breathed only this time she obeyed the echoing voice in her mind, inhaling air a little deeper though it burned her lungs and made her chest ache. "Keep breathing Maya. Just keep breathing." Tristan sighed, leaning his head against hers. "Or I shall force the breath into your body." Galahad watched in awe as Amaya's breathing became deeper and more steadfast. She looked no better but she was breathing, breathing deep and long breaths.

"Thank the gods." Galahad's words caught in his throat and he came to Amaya's other side, taking her hand and clutching it tightly. "Listen to me Maya. You are going to live. Don't you dare try and escape us, we're not going to let you go. You're trapped here with us now and forever, we're not letting you go."

"Breathe my Maya, that's it." Tristan coaxed and Galahad frowned, the words lost on him. "Breathe for me, live for me. I still need you by my side." Amaya gasped slightly at Tristan's honeyed words, the Sarmatian tongue rolling from his mouth in a seductive growl that drew Amaya further and further away from the bright, welcoming light and towards uncertainty, though she grasped at it with both hands as Tristan and Galahad's voices guided her back to the word of the living. She called out to them but her voice never sounded, she would have to rely on them to guide her back.

Though it brought her agonising pain, it was hardly something she had not felt before so Amaya allowed the sensation to wash over her, sinking back into her mind to let her body heal before she would find the strength to awaken and greet her family once more.

The main problem was that over the two weeks, Amaya had lost too much blood. Maia wept at her side, begging forgiveness for not insisting Amaya go to the healer more often and Galahad would comfort her, as Maia would comfort him in return when he could no longer take the suspense.

Three times in the week that followed Amaya's heart stopped beating and she would stop breathing all together and for a few fear consuming seconds, Tristan would lunge for her and whisper desperately, pulling her back to life before pressing his lips to hers to breathe air back into her body and his kiss would kick start Amaya's heart once more with a thud.

He hardly moved from her side. For a while the other knights did not understand though they did not question and Tristan was glad for it. He did not want to have to tell them he and Amaya were courting alone. Gods he adored this woman, why did he leave her? He left her here to face terror and fear alone and because of that, she was now fighting for every breath though he could sense it caused her great pain.

Miraculously she did not contract a fever as Tristan ensured that she was always warm, keeping the fire going all night and all day if he had to. He swore to the gods above he would not lose this woman, the one person who meant more than anything to him. Fear was now his constant companion as he sat at her side, simply gazing at her intently then murmuring a few words to her from time to time.

The heavy rock in his chest grew heavier and heavier every day as Amaya made no improvement. Her face remained as grey as ash and no matter how many times Tristan kissed her gently, her lips remained as cold as marble and a pale icy blue colour.

Growling under his breath Tristan rubbed his face in his hands, glancing to the fire to make sure it was still burning. He couldn't believe what he had done earlier this morning. He had shocked Arthur, as well as the entire city no doubt, by refusing to go on patrol. He was grateful that Galahad and Gawain had offered to take over so Arthur did not question but the act had spoken volumes that Tristan need not voice. He was not going anywhere.

Tristan felt sick with worry, ill to the point where food made him retch in disgust so he avoided eating unless absolutely necessary and when he refused to remove himself from the room further to eat, Vanora began bringing him meals where she would then take care of Amaya, making sure he ate every crumb before she would leave them in peace again.

To pass the time Tristan had begun to fall into the habit of telling Amaya stories in their native tongue which he found seemed to have an effect on her, she would breathe a little deeper and sometimes she would twitch, which drove Tristan onwards to keep on hoping that she would be alright.

Letting his hands fall to his sides he turned his eyes to Amaya's face where her lashes began to quiver. His breath caught in his throat and when her eyes slowly began to open, he darted forwards, slowing at the last second to gently touch her face and shoulder, brushing his thumb to her cheek as she moaned quietly like a wounded animal, breathing deeply through her mouth.

Her eyes wavered for a moment before they finally fixed on Tristan. He did not smile, merely looked down at her passively but inside, his heart soared to the sky with elation to see her eyes open. This was a good sign, it meant she was still fighting to live. "T…Tristan?" She whispered and the scout swore he never wanted to hear another person say his name. Slowly she smiled, weakly lifting a hand to his face where she traced his tattooed cheek with her fingertips. "Is this another dream?" She asked him quietly and he let out a chuckle without meaning to.

"If you would like." He answered softly, continuing to caress her cheek and Amaya sighed blissfully, closing her eyes to envelop her senses in his presence and touch. He clucked his tongue and flicked he chin. "Stay awake. Keep your eyes open for now." Tristan ordered her and when she began to slump, he grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

"Ugh…" She groaned, blinking furiously as she tried to do as he commanded. Suddenly her eyes widened. "The wall! The men, battle, Lazarus, Galahad, knights, have to help…"

"Enough." Tristan cut her off sharply. "You're going nowhere. Everyone is safe." He paused before smiling proudly at her. "Thanks to you." She frowned in confusion.

"Me?"

"You saved them Maya, you led them." Remembering the past two weeks Amaya could only wince as pain began to ache in her chest.

"I'm in pain Tristan." She whimpered and the scout cursed inwardly, wishing he could take all the hurt from her and carry it himself. Slowly he leaned down and captured her lips with his, not knowing any other way or words to comfort her but his action seemed to suffice as Amaya sighed contently and welcomed his kiss, brushing her tongue against his until he pulled away.

"They need to know you are awake." He turned to leave but Amaya called out his name and he froze, groaning quietly. She had more command over him than Arthur did.

"Please, just stay." She pleaded with him. "I need you right now more than anyone or anything." Slowly Tristan turned his head to look at her, her eyes wide like a doe's before the arrow has been shot. She was afraid, afraid of slipping away again. Nodding his head Tristan returned to his chair and resumed his watch over her as she relaxed.

Her hand slid forwards over her blankets to reach out for his but it stopped as she drifted away into sleep once more. Tristan stared at the hand that had intended to take his before narrowing his eyes. He did not know why she wanted him of all people instead of Galahad or even Gawain, someone with a softer side than he who could tell her the right words and comfort her the way she needed to be comforted.

Slowly and slightly nervously, Tristan reached out and touched his fingers to hers, brushing his roughened fingertips against her palm before slowly matching his to hers. He jerked slightly when her fingers curled around his hand held on weakly but securely and a peaceful sigh passed her smiling mouth, making Tristan watch her again. He did not deserve her, he knew that but somehow, she desired him of all the suitors that had been lining up to present themselves to her. He should know.

Even if Amaya was deaf and blind to their looks and whispers, Tristan had watched the courtiers with a deathly glare. They still looked, especially when she had walked into the feast wearing that reasonably modest yet flattering dress that brought out the shining star in her eyes. He had watched her walk in but had been surprised when she had found him on the balcony and all that time, he had been unable to keep his eyes from her.

What was it he wanted from Amaya? Over the last month away from her Tristan had had plenty of time to think and was only just beginning to grasp at the answer. He wanted her, not just as a lover but a companion. A woman who he could return home to and find comfort in her arms, even when he was comforting her. He wanted her heart to be his, his and his alone. Not some blushing bride for some overdressed peacock to parade around with pride before having his way with her every night. He shuddered at the thought of someone else touching his woman.

One question still remained, however. Why did he want this?