A.N.: Never fear, I have returned. Hopefully this new chapter will appease any curses to be rained down on my head.

---

Aedammiar felt herself pulled from a warm sleep by someone gruffly shaking her shoulders. The dream she was having was so good, however, she didn't want to let it go.

"Go away," she mumbled, waving a hand at her supposed waker, "Let me sleep."

Scooting away, she felt her back connect with something both warm and solid. But my bed's not by the wall, her mind called through the haze of sleep.

"Aedammiar!" a voice, as gruff as the shaking, called out. Aedammiar's eyes bolted open and she saw Tristan kneeling over her with a rather perturbed expression.

"Tristan? What..." Aedammiar sat up, alert. Her hand connected against something warm. Jerking away, she saw Gawain laying next to her still asleep.

"We need to leave," answered Tristan, standing up, "Kick out the ashes."

Aedammiar looked up at him. Her disheveled brown hair hung low in her eyes, giving her an untamed look. Bits of dirt stuck out on her pale face and dark circles hung under her eyes. All traces of what should have been an innocent child were gone from her. Tristan saw that instead, a savage fire glowed in Aedammiar's eyes.

Aedammiar stood up. Casting a pitying glance on Gawain, she turned back to Tristan. An odd feeling hit the scout. Despite all the battles, all the bloodshed he had seen, now, in this cave, a mere child, one who should have been weak, seemed stronger then any man he'd ever fought.

"As you wish," Aedammiar replied blandly. With a quick movement, she passed Tristan, keeping as far from the scout as she possibly could.

Tristan glanced over at her, holding back a sigh and leaned over Gawain. He noted, much to his chargrin, the other knight's fever had yet to break.

"Do you have any hope for the others?" Aedammiar said softly.

Tristan looked over at her. She had paused her work to stare him down. Tristan wished someone else was in his shoes at that moment. Someone like Arthur or Lancelot. Someone who could deliver bad news in a way which didn't hurt so badly.

"It's not my place to decide," he finally replied, "Hurry up."

Aedammiar's expression fell. Lowering her head, she closed her eyes sadly. Her lips moved without sound for a moment. Then, opening her eyes again, she finished destroying trace of a fire.

Tristan passed her, exciting the cave and walking to his horse. Checking the saddle and reigns, he glanced back at the cavern entrance. Aedammiar had vanished farther back in, out of his view. Probably to check on Gawain, he thought, readjusting the saddle. Despite the logic, her absence from his vision bothered him. Doesn't mean anything, he tried to convince himself, I just need her to get to the wall and free myself to find Arthur. Deep down, though, Tristan knew he was lying to himself.

"TRISTAN!" the shriek erupted, driving all ponderous thoughts from his mind.

Drawing a knife, Tristan ran to the cavern, prepared for anything.

"Tristan!" exclaimed Aedammiar, grabbing him by the arm, "It's Gawain. He's awake."

Ignoring the knife, Aedammiar dragged Tristan to the back of the cavern. Letting go, she kneeled down next to Gawain. The blond haired knight squinted at her through clouded eyes.

"Aedammiar," he said, blinking.

"I'm here, Gawain," replied Aedammiar, taking his hand. With her free hand she pulled off her shawl, using it to wipe his brow.

"And Galahad?" he demanded.

Aedammiar paused. Looking up at Tristan, she gave him a bewildered look. He could give her no answer.

"What to happen to Galahad?" she asked, turning back to Gawain.

It was too late, however. The knight had already fallen unconcious again.