Sir Balagis hadn't really done anything spectacular in his life, to be sure. He was quite happy with this. He'd be very happy living in his quiet keep and riding his little gelding anywhere it wanted to go. He wasn't very fussy about all that gallantry nonsense, thank you. So it was a surprise to everyone involved when he accidentally killed a thing that might be a troll or could be a very hairy, very large bald man but definitely was trying to kill him. And the fact that the man/troll had only recently abducted a young lady (which accounted for the fact that she was still alive and not roasted on a spit by the troll or perhaps sat on by the large man) who was perfectly willing to marry her rescuer (it was harder than one might expect to find a husband) was truly amazing. But that Sir Tor of the Round Table had been following the troll/man in order to rescue the young lady from being either eaten or squished (though he wouldn't have married her, so she thanked her lucky stars that his horse developed a limp a mile or so back and slowed him down) and suggested that Sir Balagis and his soon-to-be wife accompany him to Camelot to be inducted into the Round Table was enough to convince the knight that this was what God wanted him to do. He was very religious, you see. Not very spiritual, but very religious. Still, when the trio found the troll's cache of plundered wealth, Balagis figured that God wouldn't mind a little redistribution of wealth.
His chaplain, having finally caught up to him from having...inspected...a tavern, rolled his eyes slightly but agreed with him, as was proper. And so the four of them examined the cave with great delight and great dismay in equal measure, due to the treasure and the smell respectively. Tor took only a handful of coin and a new sword, far better than his current sword, even though his current sword had nothing drastically wrong with it; it was simply a gift from a friend and far too ornate for his tastes. The new sword was forged of folded steel in the fashion of the far East, but used Western ores to do it, making stronger than either style. It was also as plain as could be. Perfect for the genuine swordsman.
Balagis and his new lady, one Janet, took a large chest and filled it with gold. They were both rather sensible people on the whole and knew that gold wouldn't lose its value over time, and figured a chest was easily moved.
The chaplain, called Gavin, took several small, rough hewn jewels, perhaps able to be made into broaches for his family and able to be given to a congregation to sell for food. He had no need for material wealth (he wouldn't have said no to the gold, but Balagis and Janet had taken it). He also took a golden cup just the right size for wine from the taverns he inspected. The cups there were always suspect.
And so they continued on their way. Balagis was made a knight of Camelot, he and Janet were married, and the two of them decided to stay in Camelot and experience court life. Gavin, the tavern inspecting-chaplain, stayed with them, having no reason to go back to his church just yet. And Tor went and found a friend with whom to drown his woes.
"Gawain!" He burst into Gawain's chambers with a shout, still dusty from the road and with a wild look his his eye. Gawain was sitting at his desk writing a letter and he looked up.
"Tor! I thought you were after that troll." Gawain's eyes narrowed. "You were gone for two weeks. It doesn't take that long to find and kill a troll, unless you need lessons."
"I don't need lessons you red headed-" For a moment, Tor steamed at his friend before he reluctantly laughed. "Thanks. I met some people along the way. And I didn't kill the troll." Gawain's eyes lit up in anticipation of a good story. "I got there just in time to see a fellow named Balagis kill the thing. He did it completely on accident, he tripped and rammed his sword into its stomach. He got a wife out of it too."
"Did he really? Lassoed in by the first damsel in distress. Are you sure he's a knight?" Knights, particularly those of the Round Table, were known to finagle their way out of marriage in the most creative ways possible. It had become tradition.
"He lives in his keep and writes treatises about farming. He's only a knight because his father had only the one son. But you know how the King is; if they've performed a deed, they are to be offered a place at the Round Table." That made sense. "I wish he could decide if he's sensible or not. He seems to have a brain but then he and Janet," presumably his now wife and former damsel in distress, "packed a full chest of gold and expect to carry it straight to Camelot." Gawain winced. Gold was heavy and chests were unwieldy. And if the lady didn't have a horse, they had just spent a few days on the road with three people and two horses and a heavy chest of gold. "Fortunately their priest had a few skins of good brandy with him, or we wouldn't have made it here." Okay, so there was a priest. Gawain figured he couldn't be horrible if he had good brandy and was willing to share, so he didn't ask where the man was in order to avoid him.
"Why didn't you drop the chest off at Sir Balagis' castle before coming here?" Terence asked the question from behind Gawain, and both knights flinched.
"Good Gog lad, make some noise! When did you get back?" Terence had been gone for a few days, but Tor didn't know that.
"I came in a few minutes ago. You are merely exceptionally unobservant, milord. So why didn't you stop at Sir Bagalis' keep? Or the lady's; she had to live nearby, if the troll took her." Good point. Gawain looked at Tor expectantly.
"I couldn't even tell if it was a troll, to be frank, Terence. It could have been a very large and hairy man." Tor grimaced. "We were closer to Camelot than either of their keeps. The man must have caught her on a cross-country ride, and Bagalis rode quite a distance to get to them. No matter. We're back, and they can bring a wagon back." Terence sat down absentmindedly in a chair. Gawain raised his eyebrow at his squire, but Tor didn't notice either of them.
Gawain and Tor spoke for awhile longer before Tor left to sleep. Gawain looked at his squire expectantly, but Terence hadn't been paying him any mind and didn't notice. "You're a bit lost, lad. News from home?" Home would always mean Avalon. Terence had been attending to his duties as Duke for a few days, and Gawain had covered for him, but his friend hadn't given him the usual letter from Lorie or passed on the good wishes of Ganscotter or shared amusing stories from Robin. Usually, he jumped at the chance to bring news to his brother. And he had sat down in front of Tor. To be sure, Tor knew Terence was not an ordinary squire, but the squire himself rarely treated the conventions so cavalierly.
"Lorie sends her love, as does my father. Robin sends his greetings. Here." The letter from Lorie was handed over and Terence settled back into his chair. Gawain put the letter on the table, intending to read it later. Right now, Terence still looked pensive. So he waited. "There are some...odd rumors going around. About a knight who is going around Avalon looking for you." He grimaced. "Well, the "Brother of the Duke" and that's you. I wasn't able to find him while I was there. And one of the ladies' children have been abducted." Gawain's eyes crinkled. The knight looking for him wasn't too much of a problem. Since his defeat of Cucholain, many young knights had gotten it into their thick heads that he was someone to beat to prove their worth. None of them had posed much of a challenge, the ones who actually reached the fighting stage. Most were perfectly happy to share some wine and receive advice, and Terence's unassuming, Dukish countenance behind his friend made sure that was all they came away with.
The lady's children, on the other hand- "Why are you here, lad? Shouldn't you be looking for them?" Terence wasn't the sort to sit idly while a lady's children were missing.
"She won't let me."
"What?" Gawain was flabbergasted. "Why?"
"She says they're exactly where they need to be. I believed her."
"Good Gog, Terence, is she a seer? Someone kidnapped a seer's children?"
"Worse." And Terence told him, and he laughed, a great belly laugh. "God's mercy on the poor sod who took a dragon's children!"
Sophie moved around her kitchen with the surety of a queen in her domain. Everything in sight was...not hers, the cook's, but she was the second in command. Her word was law in this kitchen. She kept the king and queen and all the knights fed on hearty food, she fed the servants and the visiting diplomats, and apparently now she fed little lizards. With wings. "Right, scat!" She waded into the wiggling pile of scaly bodies surrounding what had been a suckling pig for the opening feast of the upcoming tourney (bloody waste of time if you asked her, not that anyone did, just made all that extra work). It wasn't a pig now. It was a skeleton, now, with one little lizard hanging sort of forlornly off the nose. She stared it down, the rest of the lot having scattered on command, aided by a few swipes with her broom. Its eyes blinked once at her – sideways, she noted, not up and down, properly – and then it scooted out the open door into the castle at large, carrying with it a segment of nose that it had managed to detach.
Sophie knew whose fault this was. She had never seen lizards like this in all her life, and she had lived in Camelot for all of it. Sideways blinking lizards that looked far too intelligent for their own good just reeked of the Fae. And where the Fae went, Terence 'I'm just a squire nobody look at me' was sure to follow. Oh yes, the servants knew something was odd with him and his master. They were good sorts and were always welcomed in the land of the lower class. But not if they brought their weird pets with them. "Kitty!"
"Yes marm!" Kitty was a good girl. She was twelve and just learning the ways of the chef. Hopefully she would be a good deputy once the cook retired and Sophie took her place. For now, she would do as an errand runner.
"Go tell Terence to catch his lizard pets and send them back to the Fae. Or at least keep them out of my kitchen, or next time he'll be getting the flan." Kitty ran off, not understanding the message, but knowing that when Sophie was in this mood it was best to scarper quickly and do her bidding. Besides, Terence was handsome. Any excuse to see him, when he was so seldom about the castle.
Terence trotted through the halls with a silent tread. Wide stone corridors were much easier to walk over quietly than a woodland in autumn, so he had no problem walking more softly than a cat. The girl had found him with her message only a few moments ago, but it had taken him some time to send her back to the kitchen. She had wanted to know all about where he had been. The usual excuse, "running an errand for Sir Gawain", didn't seem to work. She wanted to know details.
The lizard things were almost certainly the lady dragon's brood. He didn't know of any other lizards that could be running around Camelot. But that brought up an interesting question. Why were they here? Was there a kidnapper in Camelot who had access to Avalon? Why would they take dragon children and then lose them?
Right now, Terence was headed toward the cellars. Dragons liked the dark, and while he didn't know very much about dragon children, he hoped that held true to them. And if they got into the kitchen again, he may end up with the second best dessert the next time he went begging for his master's little gatherings, and that would not do.
In the king's study, Arthur looked at a young lizard, bemused and fascinated by the fact that a small dragon had climbed his shoulder and tried to eat his crown.
"Harris, if you hit her first and have done it repeatedly, and she hit you back, why do you think I will make her stop? Do you think she will do it again if you leave her alone?"
The scuffed little boy dug his toe into the dirt and muttered in the sullen voice of children everywhere who know they are in the wrong, "No." Guinglain surveyed him cheerfully.
"Then there is your solution. Now run along." The boy ran off, sans dignity and plus respect for one tiny girl who he would eventually grow up and woo. She would want nothing to do with him and would run away with a sword to see what she could see. Lots of Fae blood in that one. Eventually, the boy would marry the miller's daughter and have several strapping sons and two daughters who beat all comers in wrestling matches and eventually grew rich off their winnings. But that will be then and for now, Harris had learned some respect and that was enough for today.
The children were collected by their families and Gunglain chatted with the small family that joined him for dinner this night. His home was always open to strangers and friends alike, and tonight he had friends. Still, it seemed the Lord wanted him to know something else tonight, because a stranger was riding to his door.
The priest rose from his seat at the modest table and walked to the door. Before he could open it, it was slammed open with a bang and an absolutely immense figure stood in the door. His armor was black and ancient looking, the visor closed over his face, and a large broadsword hung, deadly and threatening, at his side. Guinglain looked at him. "You know," he said, in lieu of his usual greeting, "You really must try that again when there's a storm on; the thunder and lightning will add just the right touch of drama."
"Yes, my sister told me that once. I asked her if she wanted to clean the rust from the blasted armor after it got in from the rain." Guinglain nodded.
"What did she say to that?"
"She said that if I wanted proper drama I had to suffer for it. Ladies do it all the time, according to her. Fainting can give you bruises."
"Sensible of her. Would you care to dine with us?"
"I'm afraid not. I'm looking for Camelot at the moment, and I was told that you knew the way. Perhaps you would direct me?"
"Of course." And Guinglain gave him directions. As he watched him ride away on the not quite appropriate pinkish brown horse, he shook his head. God surely was having a laugh today. That knight had given him an interesting feeling. Not bad, but...a dog was about to dig up your mother's roses and there was nothing to be done about it sort of feeling. Either way, he would enjoy hearing about it from Gawain and Terence when it was over and done.
Back in Camelot, Sir Bleoberis glared murderously at a confounding little green animal. They were in a contest of the direst sort, one which would determine the level of his honor for the foreseeable future, one he was determined to win. The little dragon blinked at him crossly and Beloberis punched a fist in the air in victory. He had won the third staring contest, making the score two to one. He had won the first and the dragon had demanded a rematch by swiping the hairbrush from his small wardrobe and chittering angrily. The dragon dropped the brush with a distinct air of disdain. It was sulking. Beloberis was sure of it. He had won fair and square.
Down the hall, one of the defeated dragon's siblings was being made much of by the ladies, its softly golden scales and nubby horns being exclaimed over and stroked by the once stately women. It played to the attention shamelessly, and both parties were quite happy with the arrangement.
A tiny black dragon crept back into the kitchen and ran away with a tart the size of itself; a small blue dragonet stalked the kittens of the keep in a game of tag; and one little white creature curled up on the throne and fell sound asleep.
Arthur walked through the castle on his way to Gawain's quarters, a silver dragon sprawled contentedly in his hands. Kai trailed on his heels, eager to see what was going on. He had heard from several people that lizards had been running amok in Camelot, but none had visited him yet. The only thing that had happened today was that priest fellow claiming someone had stolen his troll loot. Nothing more to be done about that. Dragons, dragons were interesting and completely new. Arthur, though, had an idea of who to go to for answers.
He knocked politely on the door to Gawain's quarters. "Confound it! Get back here you little- NO! Not that! That's not for eating!" It sounded rather like Gawain was babysitting a rambunctious child, but given what was running around the castle at the moment, Arthur suspected this child had more scales than most. He knocked again, more insistently.
"Come in!" They did. Gawain sat in the middle of his rooms, on the floor, holding a squirming dragonet determinedly. But very gently. Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Kai did not. "Anything I can help you with, my liege?" Gawain was using his 'I'm going to pretend there's absolutely nothing wrong here and you should ignore it with me' voice, that usually only made an appearance when Terence did something odd, and Arthur's mild suspicion upgraded to moderate suspicion. Usually, the king went along with whatever it was that Gawain was doing; it never caused harm and was usually entertaining. Now...
"Nephew, where is your squire?" Direct approach for this. Gawain could prevaricate with the best of the politicians when it came to his squire, no matter how he tried to claim he was nothing like that lot, so the sooner the facts were in the open, the sooner problem solving could begin.
"Terence? Last I heard, Sophie had sent someone for him." Gawain smiled innocently at his king, not lying but certainly not telling the truth, and maybe the dragon in his hands knew. It promptly bit him. Gawain yelped and dropped the animal. The little red dragon scurried gawkily across the carpet to Kai's leg and climbed it quite ably. Kai looked delighted, under his beard. It took knowing him to know that he wasn't bored. This was more fun than he'd had all week.
Now pinned by four intimidating stares, two of which were draconian, Gawain drew a breath. He was interrupted by Terence himself barging into the room. "Milord, I need your help catching some of these blasted-" When he noticed the king and his seneschal standing on the carpet with identical raised eyebrows and small dragons, his face did several complicated things before settling into resignation.
"Just the man we wanted to see!" Arthur was delighted. None of the dragons were causing any harm, he wasn't working on paperwork, Kai had been entertained and they had finally caught Terence off guard. Truly, a momentous day. And now they were going to find out what all the fuss was about.
Or not. Terence hadn't even drawn a breath or decided on what he was going to say when a guard walked in the open door and said, "There's a knight outside the castle asking to challenge either the Knight of the Island or Sir Gawain." The guard was a professional, trained by Alan, so he determinedly didn't remark on the knight sitting on the floor and the king and his right hand man holding dragons while interrogating a squire. None of these people were normal anyway. "As we do not know who the Knight of the Island is, Commander Alan sent me to find yourself and Sir Gawain, Your Majesty." Then he stood and waited for instructions.
Terence and Gawain exchanged glances, unmissed by Arthur, and Gawain looked at the guard and dismissed him with, "Tell Commander Alan I'll be along shortly." He turned to Terence. "Ready, lad?"
Terence rolled his eyes. "As ever, milord." Arthur raised an eyebrow. This was not a surprise to them, then. Terence answered the unasked question. "Milord has a bit of a reputation in the Otherworld. Sometimes young men come asking for a duel, to prove their worth. If they can beat him, they have instant fame. And they know he won't kill them if they lose; there's no shame in losing to Sir Gawain." He shrugged. "There is no downside, for them, though this is the first time one has come to Camelot." He frowned. "The Knight of the Island bit is new." He was moving as he spoke, getting his master ready for the battle ahead.
Arthur sighed. The dragons would have to wait for a bit.
Gawain rode Guingalet out of Camelot to almost no fanfare. Really, the only ones who had any idea of what was going on were the guards, who hadn't had the chance to tell anyone, Terence, Arthur, and Kai, and the little dragons. Terence had acquired the white one, woken up from its nap by one of the servants and chased away by a broom.
Arthur looked at Terence and said, "You don't look worried, Terence."
"I'm not, Your Majesty. Milord can take care of himself." And he did. The black knight on the pink horse was handily defeated in one pass with a lance. He apparently had no hard feelings, because he picked himself up and held his hand out to Gawain, who shook it. Then he invited the stranger in for dinner.
Sir Nax was wonderful company. Out of his armor he proved to be a tall man with broad shoulders and a broad laugh which he used liberally and tastefully. He had many wondrous stories about the Otherworld, which he was happy to share, and the small, private dinner in Gawain's chambers rang with laughter. Sir Lancelot and Sir Bedivere greatly enjoyed the man, Gawain thought he was hilarious, Arthur found the whole thing highly entertaining and Terence had caught Nax's eye early in the evening and the knight had avoided mention of the fact that the Duke of Avalon was serving the wine. Everyone was highly satisfied with the event, until Arthur asked a question which had been preying on his mind.
"Who," said the king, stroking his silver dragonet, "is the Knight of the Island? No one knows who he might be." The men at the table all had small dragons nestled somewhere nearby; they had been adopted, it seemed. Even Terence had the little gold dragon nestled on his shoulders.
"The Knight of the Island is one of the titles of the Duke of Avalon, the son of the Enchanter, the supreme ruler of Avalon." Gawain was watching Nax intently, but he didn't seem inclined to go on. He seemed to recognize that not everyone here knew what was going on, not all of it. Arthur didn't want to let it go.
"Why were you looking for him here? And with Sir Gawain? It seems an odd thing to do, when we have never heard of this fellow." Nax cast an unhappy look at Sir Gawain, but answered truthfully.
"I wasn't...really looking for the Knight of the Island. I was hoping I found and fought Sir Gawain first. Now I don't have to find and fight the Duke."
Kai looked up at that, his little red dragon sitting on his lap waiting attentively for scraps. "Why on earth not? Was it a 'fight one of these men but you don't have to fight the other' sort of quest? Or bet? More likely to be bet, to be fair."
Nax drew himself up, slightly offended. "It was no bet!" Then he sighed, deflating. Though that would be more honorable, perhaps. I owed a favor to a dwarf clan, one they used to send me to fight and hopefully kill the Duke."
Bedivere nodded, thinking he had the shape of it. "And Sir Gawain, then? But why? Surely a human knight isn't as valuable as a Duke. No offense, Gawain," he added, turning to Gawain.
Gawain didn't answer. He was watching Nax with a hard glint in his eye. If this fool was after his friend and squire, he would not hesitate to take Terence off to Avalon and then challenge the newcomer to a duel with a much less happier outcome than the previous.
"You don't need to find the Duke now? Why?" Gawain looked quite wild in that moment, with his red beard and his pockmarked face. Nax decided that discretion was the better part of valor and spilled.
"It's interesting, actually. I owed the dwarf clan a favor. I had to do what they asked, as much as possible. But I have no desire to kill the Duke of Avalon. One of their clan laws is that a challenge may be passed on to family. So if I challenged you instead of your brother, the challenge could be dismissed, my favor fulfilled, no one dies, and the dwarves have no way to declare a feud against me and mine." Gawain closed his eyes, relieved. Terence had been on the receiving end of assassination attempts before, but at least this one had been dealt with. No bloodshed involved. Then he remembered what Nax had actually said and wondered if he could just keep his eyes closed for good and avoid everything.
Nope. "Your bother?" Arthur's voice was bland and interested. His eyes were sparkling. He had always enjoyed finding things others liked to keep hidden. It was required of a king.
Gawain looked at Terence, a plea in his eyes the equal to any he had ever given. Terence grinned at him in a way that indicated he was on his own. The traitor. "Well. Uncle. I never said I didn't know who the knight of the island was. And he's technically my brother-in-law." Arthur looked at him patiently. So there was a niece he didn't know about, then, one who was married to this knight. Gawain frowned even more. Kai looked like he was about to laugh. The big lug.
"And there isn't an unknown niece, Uncle." He closed his eyes and waited for someone to put it together. Bedivere was the one who said it out loud, though Kai and Lancelot and Arthur had grasped it just as well.
"Dear Lord. You're married." He sounded delighted. "Sir Gawain is married! To the Knight of the Island's sister." Arthur looked at his nephew.
"Is that true, Gawain?" Kai was barely restraining great guffaws.
Gawain smiled. "Yes, sire." He might see much ribbing in his future, over the fact that he had been persuaded into matrimony and hadn't shared the fact, but he could not be ashamed of his wife or his brother.
"Congratulations, Gawain." Lancelot was the first, but the others soon joined in, offering their congratulations. Arthur did not. He looked at his nephew for a long time. Gawain looked back uncertainly. He had lied, by omission, to the king. It was more egregious than it might be with a normal knight, as any member of the king's family could have influence. And it was a more personal act as well, because they really were family.
Arthur stood and walked around the table. "Please stand, Sir Gawain." He did, depositing his blue dragon on his seat. Sated, the created drowsed. Gawain stood awkwardly, tense. And Arthur caught him in a warm hug. Gawain relaxed and laughed, a great bear laugh.
After that, the evening passed in a warm fugue of laughter and wine. Gawain was teased mercilessly about his wife, and he told them about her. Parts of how he won her hand, her name, her laughter, about her home and her father and her brother. About her brother, all he said was this: "A better man I have never known, and I am proud to call him my brother and to have him at my back." Nax went to bed soon after this statement, followed by Kai and Lancelot and Bedivere. Terence stood quietly in the shadows of the room, tending to the fire. Arthur watched him thoughtfully. Terence's dragon was the last, the only one who had not joined the puppy pile of scales on the carpet in front of the heat. So there he stood, his triangular face inscrutable as ever as he looked into the fire, a golden dragon wrapped gracefully around his shoulders.
Looking at him, Arthur rather thought he looked more regal than many a minor king that came to visit Camelot.
Arthur stood, drawing the gaze of his nephew and the squire. "Good night, nephews." With that, he left.
Terence looked at his knight master and smiled. "Not a fool, our king."
Gawain shrugged. "None of them are, really. He's just head and shoulders above the rest." He stretched, the joints popping and his bones creaking. "Good Gog, lad. It's been a long day. Have we decided what to do about the dragons?"
"Yes. I'll bring them back with Nax in a day or so. They were never kidnapped by anyone here, by the way." Gawain looked up with interest. "Do you remember that troll? And yes, it was a troll. It made it into the dragon's lair and made off with lots of shiny things, including her eggs. Gavin, the priest, took the eggs from the troll's lair thinking they were gems. They hatched, of course. All he found were a few shards, making him think they had been stolen. He told Tor all about it over some wine and Tor mentioned it in passing to me."
Gawain had to laugh a bit at that. All this caused by an accident. "Why did the lady say they had to be here, then?"
Terence smirked, then. "She's lazy. This way she doesn't have to chase them all over creation. If they had hatched in the troll's lair, that's what she would have done. This way they get a ride straight back to her." He shrugged. "They were never in danger. Dragon's eggs are harder than diamond and baby dragons are very clever. The troll had no chance. And she knew where they were once they were out of troll range."
And that was that. The king didn't treat Terence any differently, guessing rightly that if Terence wanted recognition he could have it ten fold. He did hold Terence in a high regard, but he had already. Really, nothing had changed. Gawain made it quietly known to his friends that he would appreciate if they would keep the fact of his marriage to themselves, and they did. Gavin returned to his church with gold from the king and a quiet explanation, which he laughed about heartily. Terence looked at him and thought he might get along well with Guinglain.
The most interesting thing came much later. Gawain had ridden with Terence and Nax to Avalon, because the dwarf clan and others were still out there. When Terence returned from bringing the dragons back to their mother, the golden dragon was still with him and Gawain was still laughing at them both. She had decided he was hers and her mother was disinclined to protest. One does not argue with a dragon. So Terence was now the family of a small gold dragonet. When he returned he brought more than one guest. Gawain introduced his wife to his friends with great delight and her beauty and quiet wisdom impressed them mightily.
Arthur found her to be wonderful, and she and Guinevere got along swimmingly.
Eileen greeted her husband with a kiss and a laugh when she saw the little dragon. "So. We're parents now. I think she has my eyes." The dragonet laughed, but only a little, at the noise Terence made.