Disclaimer: Been a while so I just want to remind readers that I don't own them in any way, shape or form. They just like the beer I have in the fridge and the snack selection in the pantry.
A/N: Be advised, the language gets rough as the chapter progresses and Gawain demonstrates his "larger vocabulary".
Gawain rubbed his shoulder and laughed. Only Galahad could make him forget, make him look to the brighter side of life so effortlessly. Unfortunately, he could not make it last and Gawain's smile again turned sad as memories came back. Where to continue…? He wasn't entirely certain and so he let out a sigh.
Galahad took the opportunity to study his brother while trying to picture exactly what Agravaine might have looked like.
"What tribe was he from?"
"Aorsi – farther north than where I am from though." Gawain smiled slightly. "Of all the things he missed in Sarmatia, Agravaine claimed it was the snow of his home that he truly longed for. Said it wasn't like the heavy, wet stuff that falls on our heads…and at night, it shined like stars…it was the snow that he wanted to see again, to run through again…" Gawain's voice trailed off and he looked upward, beginning an intense study of the stars.
This new information made some sense to Galahad, but not much. He was still struggling to piece together the seemingly violent, brutal warrior with the calm, quiet Knight sitting next to him. They did not mesh and Galahad did not see how to make them mesh.
"Galahad…" Gawain began slowly, eyes never leaving his star study, "I am trying to think of some way to relate all this to you but all I seem to do is confuse you more. Ask me what you want to know because I just don't…"
Galahad put his hand on his friend's arm and squeezed. As long as he knew he could ask and Gawain would answer… Galahad smiled a bit.
"What did he think of Arthur?"
Gawain snorted and looked down, picking at the seam on his pants. Why did it seem Galahad always went after the hard questions? Why couldn't the pup have asked what colour eyes or hair Agravaine had? Sighing, Gawain smiled a bit.
"He didn't care much for Arthur at first. None of us did. Arthur was young and un-tested when he took command. Pelleas was the Knight the Romans went to and gave authority to issue commands in the field, but the Sarmatians, we looked to Agravaine and Kay. When Arthur took over, Pelleas was already gone, which left Kay and Agravaine vying for control or command from the Sarmatian side… Arthur decided that he preferred Kay to Agravaine, which did not sit well, obviously, and Agravaine made that known. He felt second-in-command should have been his, not Kay's and most definitely not Lancelot's. It also did not help that during our second mission under Arthur, we lost three Knights…whether through Arthur's fault or their own, that battle yielded one of the worst losses the Knights had suffered in some time. Agravaine made damn certain Arthur knew this." Gawain stopped, closing his eyes and remembering the heated arguments that ensued – both between Agravaine and Arthur and Agravaine and anyone who tried to defend Arthur.
"How long did it take before they got along? Before Agravaine accepted that Kay and then Lancelot were Arthur's seconds…?"
"Honestly, I don't think Agravaine ever accepted it. I know he never liked it. And as to him and Arthur getting along, they…tolerated each other. We all knew that Agravaine and Arthur could not be left in each other's company for very long. I suppose it did not help Arthur's opinion when, during one mission, Agravaine went completely against his orders…"
Galahad choked on the swig of wine he'd taken and gaped at Gawain. Gone completely against orders from Arthur? Gawain simply nodded.
"Arthur issued one command; Agravaine issued another completely contradictory command."
"Which…?"
"The Sarmatians followed Agravaine. Because we knew Arthur was wrong and Agravaine was right. The Romans followed Arthur and almost half of them were lost. I think the only reason Arthur did not have Agravaine's head was because of that. Agravaine was punished for disobeying a direct command and issuing a contradictory command…and he never did let Arthur forget that he'd saved the Sarmatian Knights so, as he told him, Arthur, your incompetence can cost their lives another day, when I am not on the field, which, sadly for you, I am not planning on being any time soon…"
Galahad blinked and looked at Gawain, trying to discern if he was hearing the truth. Catching Galahad's eye, Gawain smirked.
"I told you Gal, Agravaine was not quiet with his opinions and he didn't give a damn who you were. If Agravaine thought you were an idiot or made a poor decision, he was going to let you know. Though I suspect he took overwhelming pleasure pointing out mistakes Arthur and Lancelot made." Gawain shook his head and whistled softly. "Toward the end of his service though, even Agravaine had to admit that Arthur had become a competent command. They acquired a mutual respect, was I think how Arthur termed it. In Agravaine's words, Arthur had learned to value Agravaine for the workhorse he was, to trust in Agravaine's abilities and judgment and, most importantly of all, to stay the fuck out of his way." Gawain smiled at his late brother's assertions, knowing deep inside that Agravaine had been correct.
Galahad laughed a bit, more at Gawain's smile than at the words he'd spoken. He truly couldn't imagine anyone not liking Arthur's command, but then since he'd never known any except Arthur…
"It was a different time, Galahad. Remember, Lucanus had been in charge of the fort, of the Knights though he really did not want to be and unlike Arthur, Lucanus didn't care if we lived or died. When he wasn't devising ways to get us killed, he was attempting to force Roman customs and beliefs on us. Priests saw to it that there was prayer to their god before every mission. Beards are not the custom in the Roman army…so we were all clean-shaven. There were only two things he did not attempt to touch: the length and braiding of our hair and our burial rites. And out of those two, only our hair was completely exempt. He used to send his priest out, after we had conducted our burial, to do whatever it is they do to their dead." Gawain smiled sadly. "That was one thing Agravaine made me promise, swear to him, that if he died before leaving this island, I would keep Lucanus and his priests far, far away from his grave…"
"And did you?"
"Did I what, Galahad?"
"Did you keep Lucanus and the priests away?"
Gawain leaned closer to Galahad. "I didn't have to. You see, by then, Lucanus had long since been recalled to Rome. Such a pity the bastard never made it…" Laughing darkly, Gawain settled back against the stone, closing his eyes and letting himself become lost in memories.
Galahad shivered involuntarily, trying not to imagine all the possible connotations Gawain's words and laughter carried – and falling short. From what he understood, the Roman deserved every bit of what Gawain's tone implied, but that didn't mean Galahad's stomach approved.
Watching Galahad's mind churn through all the possible scenarios, Gawain realized that Galahad truly never knew the sort of trouble he'd been able to get into or get dragged into, as the case sometimes was.
Gawain let out a small laugh, startling Galahad. "Perhaps, Galahad, perhaps I have depicted things incorrectly. I was not the quiet Knight with the even temperament sitting here. When you came here, I had calmed a fair amount. Agravaine's death did much to calm me. Not at first, of course, but when the realization sank in…for some reason, I became…less like Agravaine, I guess." Casting a sideways glance at Galahad, Gawain smirked at memories.
"What do you mean, became less like Agravaine?"
"I mean, Galahad, I…learned to laugh more, to be open to my brothers more. Not that I still didn't have a temper, especially around Lancelot, but I became much better at controlling it. Maybe because Agravaine was no longer around to back me up, or intercede for me, or…damnit, he was no longer around to simply be Agravaine and if he wasn't here to be Agravaine, it was really fucking hard to be Gawain…at least the Gawain I was used to being."
Tears sprang fresh to Gawain's eyes and he roughly wiped at them. Getting to his feet, Gawain stood still for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to hold back the resentment he felt welling up. Turning, he scowled at Galahad.
"For a long time, I lived knowing that anyone – and I do mean anyone, Galahad – who messed with me, who crossed my path, was not only going to deal with me, but ultimately they would deal with Agravaine. Not a good prospect by anyone's account. Romans, locals and brothers alike wanted no piece or parcel of an agitated Agravaine…or an agitated Gawain, to be honest."
Gawain's voice lowered and he leaned down so Galahad could hear clearly. "I remember one time, Galahad, one time Ector decided to make some of my business his own. Despite being warned by numerous brothers to drop it, he just kept on teasing me, poking and prodding. You see, Lancelot and I had gotten into an argument around Lancelot's assertions that I was unable to keep a particular wench satisfied between the sheets… Words were exchanged between Lancelot and I, it progressed to shoves and ended with punches thrown and us wrestling around on the floor. Brothers pulled Lancelot and me apart, but Ector wouldn't let it die. He said something and I turned and broke his nose. One punch and he was on the floor, screaming and bleeding. Everyone, including me, was stunned and then Lancelot laughed; I went after him again, swinging at anyone who got in my way. I got hold of his neck – which I fully intended to break – and nobody was getting me to let go. Finally, Kay and Agravaine arrived and somehow they got me off Lancelot."
Gawain stopped and scratched at the stones, seemingly waiting on some input from Galahad who, for his part, could only sit and stare at his brother. Galahad knew sometimes Lancelot's teasing drove Gawain to the edge of reason, but to be within breaths of breaking his neck… Silence fell between them and for the first time he could recall, Galahad felt uncomfortable in his brother's presence.
"I left as soon as I realized it had been Agravaine who pulled me off Lancelot and backed me away, maneuvering me so Lancelot became out of reach. I turned and left, shoving everyone out of my way. I found out later that another fight had nearly erupted when Agravaine started yelling at Lancelot, threatening to pick-up where I'd left off and, of all people, Tristran got between them and advised Agravaine that if he wanted to continue, Tristran would be happy to step outside with him and…pursue the discussion, was how I think they said Tristran put it."
"And that stopped him?"
"Wouldn't it have stopped you?"
"Well, yes, but that's me and I didn't figure…I wouldn't have guessed much frightened Agravaine…"
"Don't say frightened, Galahad. Never connect that word with Agravaine. He was not frightened of Tristran. Let me put it this way, Galahad: I know, for a fact, there were a few Knights that Agravaine was not…eager or willing or inclined to test, Tristran being among them. It had nothing at all to do with fear and everything to do with simply not wanting to find out their full range of capabilities. If you were to ask them, the Knights on his list had similar and, believe me, Agravaine topped those. Agravaine could be hot-tempered and judgmental and vicious and brutal and nasty…but he was most definitely not stupid or fearful. It also helped that Tristran's mentor was Bedwyr – someone Agravaine gave every bit of due respect and to start a fight with Tristran would be akin to starting one with Bedwyr." Gawain snorted and shook his head.
"How much trouble did you get into?"
Gawain laughed. "Surprisingly, Galahad, none." He smiled at the look of disbelief Galahad shot him. "Anyone who asked questions was told Lancelot and Ector started it, I simply finished it."
Again silence fell between them. Galahad's mind was reeling; trying to grasp this new side of Gawain, fit it into the puzzle his brother had become.
"We did many things, Galahad, many things that I am neither proud nor ashamed of. They were simply things we did."
"Like…"
"Like slaughtering an entire encampment of Woads that we had been sent on patrol to watch; we decided that better than reporting their whereabouts and movements would be eliminating them. So we did. It was just…what we did. I don't even remember which one of us suggested it first – we just kind of agreed it was what should be done and we did it. Got into plenty of trouble from Arthur, but we also knew we had saved our brothers from having to go into battle. Which was right? I don't know. Agravaine got into bigger trouble for that than I. Arthur held him solely responsible for that incident."
Gawain gave a half-laugh. He was quite certain now that Galahad thought Agravaine some sort of deranged monster and perhaps was beginning to view him the same. Why could he not convey clearly the duality that had been Agravaine…an aggressive and brutal and violent bastard but also a warm and thoughtful and loyal brother whose overriding goal seemed to be getting as many of them back to Sarmatia as possible? That somehow, someway, Gawain missed Agravaine so intensely that at times it was actual, physical pain? Why could he only seem to confuse Galahad more and more?
Watching Galahad fidget with some bread, Gawain leaned against the small wall.
"He was what Rome made him, Galahad. Rome wanted a killer to send out to the battlefield, kill as many Woads as possible, do the work that," here Gawain let out a small snort, "truthfully, Galahad, keeps the blood off their hands and the nightmares from their sleep. They do not go to sleep only to dream of being chased by dead Woads or captured and tortured… You know; you've been in those dreams, fighting and screaming and clawing, only to wake up cold and sweaty and thankful that you are tangled in your blanket, not some Woad trap." Gawain smiled grimly. "Believe me, Galahad, Agravaine suffered those same nightmares, woke in those same cold sweats and thanked the goddess for her mercy that it was only a dream. He did not acquire a taste or a lust for the kill – at least not any more than the rest of us. Don't judge him too harshly, Galahad. That's all I ask of you."
Galahad cleared his throat and stared past Gawain's shoulder into the inky blackness. "I have to be honest, Gawain, and you may hate me for this, but Agravaine sounds vile and I would try my damnedest to stay far, far away from." Green eyes sought blue, not at all surprised by the hurt they found there. "I am sorry, Gawain, but I just don't see how you got along and, truthfully, why you would even want to bother."
"There were times that we had our own go-rounds, Galahad, Agravaine and I did. We did not always see eye-to-eye. But we were always brothers. Always. That was first and foremost. Women came and went. Battles were won and lost. I knew him, I trusted his judgment without question on many things because most of the time, he was proven right. You might not have liked his way of handling things, but you could not ignore his ability, his knowledge or his sheer stubbornness. And not just me, but any of our brothers knew they could approach him to discuss anything – so long as you weren't delving into his personal affairs. That topic was strictly off-limits to all but a very, very select few. I talked to him endlessly about everything from women to battle tactics to what he was doing when he received his paper of passage from Rome…"
