Title:
Catharsis (Prologue: Frozen)
Pairing:
Gawain/Galahad
Dedication:
mlh
A/N:
Originally, for the "first line" drabble meme: "...it
might be cool to start a meme where you list all the first lines of
your fics and then people write drabbles in the comments with the
same first line." Now, by request, as the Prologue for
Catharsis.
catharsis /ca-THAR-sis/,
noun:
1.) A purifying or figurative cleansing of the emotions,
especially pity and fear, described by Aristotle as an effect of
tragic drama on its audience.
2.) A release of emotional tension,
as after an overwhelming experience, that restores or refreshes the
spirit.
"Who makes all these?" Gawain runs his hands over Galahad's back, tracing the scars, both new and old, that zigzag their way across it, almost in mockery of death. Galahad freezes at hearing the question, tensing up. "Galahad?"
"Gawain," Galahad almost whispers, teeth clenched, pleading. "Gawain, you promised not to ask."
Gawain sighs. "I know. But that was before I noticed: even though I am with you, even though I protect you, there are still fresh scars. Tell me, Galahad, who makes these?"
Gawain knows Galahad cannot lie to him.
"Tristan," Galahad breathes, and it is Gawain's turn to freeze.