Sir Gwaine beyond legend
Chapter one: going back to the start: young Gwaine and his folks
In a land of myth and a time of magic, a lord couldn't yet forget the material aspects of his title. He had to manage to have an heir to succeed him, a daughter to marry, in order to make allies, and, of course, a castle. Lord Carnavon could not say that nature didn't provide him what he wanted. If you excepted, of course, having a third child that caused him to worry for many years, it could almost have been ideal.
Carnavon had been built and defended by the family for generations and was considered one of the finest but also one of the most fortified (apart from Camelot, but who would try to compete with such greatness and challenge the king?) places that existed. The most special part of the castle would definitely have been its tower, in which a sole guard lived and checked for invaders, which hopefully didn't happen on a daily basis. That's where Gwaine was used to hiding and trying to find some peace after his brother was too old to play with him. But having sympathised with the guard, who taught him how to hold a sword, the latter soon asked the castle sword master to give him some lessons so that Gwaine could leave him to his duty and more importantly so that he wouldn't have to answer the thousand questions he asked every time he came up there. This worked well, since Gwaine only came after that day to find a quiet place to stay, when he wasn't completely exhausted.
Lord Carnavon was thrilled to hear about this gift because he would rather send his ever energetic and undisciplined son to be a knight than try to force him to be a priest or even a counsellor of some prince. So he delightfully watched his son train every day, even if the latter often tried to avoid having to get up before dawn, with his master and his brother Richard, who had always be destined to rule over Carnavon. Until one day, when he realised that letting his son do what he wanted and was skilled at, had changed the "natural" order of thing.
On that very day, he stood as usual beside the window of his bedroom, from which he was able to see the training field. Gwaine had just turned 16 but it looked like he and his brother could have been fraternal twins. It occurred to him for one moment that his beloved wife Layla would have loved to see this, whereas he could still not forgive an innocent child for taking her away. Once again, he tried to set aside his judgement for a while and admire the dance of swords.
Never miss a good fight:
Every other day, Richard and Gwaine challenged each other. It was obviously one of those days. Until then, as it should have been, Richard had won or had let his brother win in the days he was in a good (or we should say a tremendous) mood. But it suddenly appeared that those days were over, which didn't have to be considered as such an issue, only as change, as a modification of the situation in which you make decisions. As the boys grew, the game was getting pretty serious and spectacular since Gwaine had gained strength and agility thanks to training. The sword master rang the fighting bell. Gwaine felt ready to dance. He turned around, starting to jump and lean alternatively, manipulating his sword as if it weighed nothing. It seemed that it should at the same time majestically move and remain as invisible and unpredictable as possible. The sword moved quickly and smoothly with its wielder, all around its human target. Richard was struggling to maintain it at a reasonable distance from his body, but it appeared that his rigidity could not cope with a dancing metallic flame that he thought had just come to life in front of him. To him, it appeared almost nonsensical. It had nothing to do with the lessons he received. The way Gwaine moved was personal, a true connection between the weapon and the touch of its owner, as if the tool had become the extension of the arm, which meant complete mastery by integrating deep inside the principles and realising it in action through his brother. This rarely happened that early in one's life but it usually would come sooner or later and one would logically think: the sooner the better. Richard would have loved the idea if he had not had to deal with it, without being able to respond at all. He had entered survival combat mode. He just hoped his brother wouldn't try anything.
Gwaine's smile couldn't be seen by his opponent, but it had never been so brilliant. Controlling the situation and thus being assured to win filled him up with joy, even if to him it would always remain a game between two brothers, as if they were still five years old. However, he would've liked his brother to play with him, though he knew they weren't the same. To encourage him, he tried to mock him gently but sarcastically, to hopefully make him react in some way. No answer resulted because Richard was simply not able to do anything relevant.
After a while, Lord Carnavon started to worry, even if he was absolutely fascinated by his younger son. How could being talented be a threat to the long-going order of things? His daughter Caelia had joined him when she had woken up. She was even more interested than he was, which could've been quite odd for a girl but that he considered as part of the admiration due to men by women. He saw her as the daughter he always wanted, extremely beautiful and kind, never causing troubles. She had been engaged to his most precious ally for years but they were both finally coming of age –and he had noticed with great pleasure that Caelia didn't seem to be willing to call his decision into question. Unfortunately the fight he was still witnessing actually did. How could Richard could be legitimated as his heir if Gwaine proved to clearly be the best protector for the land? Something had to be done as soon as possible. Lord Carnavon then walked down to the training field, followed by Caelia, who was afraid of what she should expect to be her father's next move. Luckily, he only had to separate his two sons as he did many times before when they lost the track of time while training.
"It's enough for the day" he shouted, entering the field, as if nothing special was on. "Richard, come here, we've got some important matters to discuss now"
Gwaine put his sword down, disappointed not to have tried to finish this properly. His status had changed, he could feel it now. That's why he had to hide somewhere to try thinking about it. The tower was still waiting for him, even though it had been a while since he last went there. At the same moment, Caelia came towards him, asking if he needed to talk and so they eventually went for a walk in the forest near the castle.
Out of the world of conventions
They had been wandering for a while, speechless, thriving some peace along with the presence of a loved one. The day could've been described as ideal, just as the ones of legends when a key moment was coming, idealised as nothing else could be.
"You've become a great warrior, my dear brother. I couldn't be more proud of you" She suddenly said calmly, as a mother would've done with her son, and as she had always acted towards her little brother, when she felt he would need a loving protection in life, which she was willing to give.
"I wish father thought the same, just as I wish he wouldn't have you married to that horrid neighbour of ours. I don't get why he didn't let you choose at least between two or three potential allies." He replied, angrily, but with an attitude suggesting it was aimed at his father.
"If only that was possible. If only I was a boy. But I'll always have you by my side" she smoothly whispered, taking his arm." Since we are equals AND together in this"
"If only we were equal to the other two. Our existence could then reveal itself to be marvellously effective." He replied, hopeless.
"We won't change anything by planning a future that requires so many conditions. Now, since we have to face some changes imminently, as it seems, let's take a look at what is in our power to consider." She was trying to bring back the light into her brother's shadowy eyes. "I feel like a warrior after what happened today, even if I remained a girly-interested witness"
"Why don't we fight then? At least your husband won't harm you if he ever come across the idea while I'm not around." He jumped around looking for two fit-for-training sticks. The sole possibility of what they were about to do appeared so outrageously against all established rules and, not surprisingly, following his motto (if he had to have one only). He had a half-smile that was so rare to be observed on his face. Caelia smiled back, seduced by the idea, though she knew the one she was meant to marry was nothing but a lamb, gentle, idiot and cowardly in every occasion.
"Okay, some the basic principle you must always keep in mind is that your weapon is nothing strange to you but on the contrary your best friend when you're trouble." Gwaine began, with a little something of his master though he meant every word in his heart. "Then you mustn't ever lose your balance, which shouldn't be a problem since we spent our childhood running on the roofs trying to scare ourselves up as much as we thought was possible"
After that, he showed her how stood or at least aimed at standing during a struggle and helped her find hers. The lesson lasted all afternoon. They were both feeling so relieved thanks to this unexpected true moment of freedom and of what would become a quietening secret and at the same time a founding memory.
When night came, they had no choice but to walk back, playing as children would do, pretending that the shadows of the night were after them and practising against thin air. Entering the castle, they were received by Lord Carnavon's grumpy face. He didn't know what happened, without a clue. However he could feel that if he let that happen, when it was to eventually be a regular thing, he would quickly lose control to those who had not the right to undertake anything. With what he considered to be his best fortitude, he determined himself to adapt his actions to reality. A reality that had just been turned upside down to his stunned eyes.
