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Lancelot's hut held little of interest for her, but the caves felt so familiar, so welcoming, that it felt like coming home. She gravitated to them immediately, and found what she assumed was the reason for that feeling of longing. Yuki was resting on the bed furthest from the entrance, and she pursed her lips, hesitating in her step. He deserved to rest, after all. It would have been ideal to let him do so, in the quiet peace of the caves. It was what she wanted, more than almost anything - and he was a man who deserved a hard won peace.

But she didn't leave, and she knew she was going to guilt trip herself for being so selfish with his time. Simply put, there was so little time left - and if either one of them were chosen to represent the White Knight, that time would abruptly run out. So maybe she was being a little selfish, and she would have to find some sort of selfless act to make up for it, later on. It wouldn't be hard - there were many in need.

Her robes never touched the floor anymore, so when she padded to his bed it was in silence. She sat down on the floor beside it, far too embarrassed to get anywhere near a bed he was laying on, and cleared her throat to give him notice of her arrival. He might have already seen her coming, but it was just a formality, in case he was lost in thought.

"Do you treasure the solitude as well?" She asked, hoping that was a subtle enough way of asking whether he wanted to be alone or not.

"I know." She murmured softly, immediately tensed when he moved to sit up. "I didn't mean to make you move. You were resting. You should rest! You needn't sit up for me."

She made no move to take any of the other beds, nor did she come to sit on his. She looked content on the ground of the cave, where pebbles and dust clung to the whisps of ragged white on her dress. "It's ruined. I hold no more concern over it than I do the rest of me, now." She folded her hands in front of her, as if they'd felt idle and she didn't know what to do with them, but they instantly unfolded as she lurched forward.

"Your wounds! Have you checked on them? Are they healed?" And she focused with a furrowed brow on the spot of his abdomen where she'd seen the mark earlier, her lower lip jutting out in a thick pout. "I wish I had some kind of healing power for that."

But she held no power. Just concern.

"No!" She rose up off of her haunches when he slid down to the ground beside her, and put both of her hands on his shoulders, as if she could somehow lift him back up into the bed. All she managed was a pathetic shake, before dropping back down in a huff. "You stubborn man." She whimpered out, dropping her hands back down to her lap. "Get off the floor. I'll sit with you, if it means keeping you comfortable."

The hand he placed on his abdomen was, after several moments of intense thought, covered with one of her own. "Have you slept at all since then? Don't the nightmares plague your rest? You should be sleeping right now, oh, and here I am keeping you up and convincing you to climb down on the floor with me - I'm a terrible influence."

It was hard to keep a straight face after that last one.

"You ask for me to be someone I'm not." She reminded him, moving very hesitantly to sit on the spot he patted beside him. Or more specifically, several inches away from the spot he'd patted, because old habits died hard. She set her face in a pinch, as if mentally trying to convince herself of something, and moments later, moved to the spot beside him, instead. She'd just needed to work up to it.

"Your well being will always prioritize over mine. That's just who I am. I don't know if I could consider myself over anyone, in any instance, but infinitely moreso when it comes to - " Her mouth turned into a thin, pursed line. She remembered herself, even if it was too late to do so.

"Time." She breathed out, relaxing within the melancholy of the word. "There never seems to be time for anything, now." She quirked a side glance at him, curious but sad. "And it's difficult to get to know anyone under these circumstances. I still don't remember most of my life - only bits and pieces. Do you?"

"And tomorrow, we may all be dust." She added, despite how sad that sounded. "I don't want things to end, just yet. I thought - perhaps - I was ready, but." She wrung her hands out until they turned white, then red from how tightly she held them. "I don't know anything anymore. I'm just so confused."

Her vision blurred, and she closed her eyes to fight off the stinging threat of tears. "That's what I'm afraid of the most. I'm afraid of how much I've lost. How much I've destroyed, by using these hands to kill, to hurt, to injure even the foulest of creatures - there were so many, Yuki. So many."

She knew her place, when she took her sickle to the shadowy monstrosities that had swarmed the castle. She'd cut them down by the hundreds, never once doubting that she was fighting for the worthiest cause. But now, with the death of even the darkest of life on her hands, and a weapon still clung to her body like a trusted friend, she faced the changes within her and worried over what she saw.

"This new found fear in me, the fear of dying, the fear of regret for all I would be giving up - this fear is a pollution that germinates inside of me because I let it. Because I spilled blood. And. I."

Her throat closed up - it was too difficult to speak.

No choice. Would it have been better to die, than to kill? It wasn't even a question, when she'd been faced with it - but she'd been in that place, surrounded by everything that corrupted and twisted until it was impossible to tell who she was anymore. She opened her eyes, and stared down at her hands, reddened from twisting into one another. They were a point to focus on when his arm wrapped around her shoulder, and they gave her the strength to move with his pull, resting awkwardly against his side. It should have hurt, to feel him pressed up against her. It should have stung every inch of skin, until her tears were from pain, instead of confusion. He should have hurt her, and he didn't. He hadn't, for quite some time now.

Her awkward position melted, flush against his shoulder until he felt as comfortable as a bed against her. This was just as worrisome as her fear, but it was a thousand times easier to ignore; because it was the only thing in the cruel, cumbersome world they lived in, that brought her peace anymore.

She did not cry against his shoulder. She closed her eyes, let out a long, gratified sigh, and reveled in what was once a familiar feeling, but had been lost in all the chaos. The peace, the joy, the comfort that solitude once gave her. She found it there, where it wasn't supposed to be, and she reveled in it.

She lifted up one hand, and she turned it in her line of vision. He was right, but she had already come to terms with that. The woman who'd given up her memories for the kingdom could never have known what was in store for her - and perhaps losing her memories was for the best. There was a strong chance she would never have been able to do all that she'd done, if she could remember the reason behind her aversion to all things physical.

Then her hand dropped, and rested against his chest, patting where his heart lay. "The young woman you met in the banquet hall had never met you." At least she could accept one thing with a flood of true relief. No matter how she'd changed, the one thing she had never lost to the darkness was her crystal clear sense of honesty.