crushing your soul, bruising your body
must your wings be broken so easily

Gawain was seated cross-legged on the floor of the Library, reading through countless books. He couldn't quite understand most of the written words, as the language had rather evolved over the hundreds of years. With the help of Jeanne, he'd been able to understand more of what was being discussed. At that particular moment, Gawain was reading over a brown hardcover book that spoke about knights and medieval happenings. He was much too engrossed in the book as his soft aqua eyes flew over the lines, scanning the pictures while his sturdy calloused fingers floated over the pages, prepared to turn the velvety thin paper.

Jeanne was looking over a book on time travel while Arturia was analyzing the shelves for a book on spells. She'd probably gone over a few dozen books by now, deeming some worse than others. It was a red and gold thick book that had caught her eyes. The short English Woman stood on the tips of her toes and stretched her body so as to reach for the book, but she was much too short.

"Here." She watched as a muscular arm took the book from the shelf and passed it down to her.

Arturia's eyes immediately lit up and she held the book to her chest. "I was starting to wonder if you got lost or something, Dia."

"I got held up by a student, I'm sorry." He smiled at her.

Gawain had finally looked up from his book to see a tall dark-haired man bending down to kiss Arturia on the cheek; he immediately covered his eyes with the book. He chuckled at his own reaction and shook his head. He'd seen his fair share of knights kissing ladies in public, in fact, he'd done so a few times himself. He really shouldn't have gotten so embarrassed at such a simple sign of affection.

"You must be Gawain." The man approached him, stopping just in front of him.

Gawain looked back up from his book and nodded as he stood up from the floor. "Sir Gawain," he corrected, "Hail fellow, a pleasure to meet your acquaintance." He lifted his uninjured hand in something resembling a salute. If you were to ask Gawain to describe the man, Gawain would have no shame in saying he was undoubtedly the most handsome man he'd ever encountered. His build was nearly immaculate and his hazel eyes were sweet and enchanting, resembling amber jewels, while the beauty mark under his right eye was alluring. He was certainly a man who captured countless women's hearts in so much as a glance.

The man smiled. "I'm Diarmuid, Arturia's boyfriend." He extended his hand.

"Boy friend?" Gawain flickered his gaze to Jeanne as if to ask for an explanation. "Must friends be specified nowadays?" He looked back at Diarmuid.

Diarmuid cracked a smile and drew his hand back, seeing as the knight didn't take it. "No, uhm…I mean, we're in a relationship."

"Oh," Gawain sighed, "you're her beau."

"Sure." Diarmuid nodded as he let out an amused laugh. "Arturia says you're injured, might I take a look?" He lifted a brow.

Jeanne couldn't help but chuckle as Gawain glanced at her once more for permission, almost like a child looking at his mother when the doctor asks him what's wrong. She gave a curt nod and he nodded at Diarmuid's request.

The Irishman analyzed the arm and asked for Gawain to move it around. After a few moments of Gawain wincing and Diarmuid feeling around, Diarmuid took a step back.

"Can I lift the sleeve?" Diarmuid asked. Upon Gawain's approval, Diarmuid lifted the sleeve of the black t-shirt (with a wince on Gawain's part, of course). "It's positively bruised," he sighed. "Arturia tells me you dislocated it, don't doubt it, but it looks as if you burned it."

Jeanne and Arturia leaned over Diarmuid's shoulders and looked at Gawain's shoulder. It was then that they noticed a bruised scar that looked like a mix of a tree branch and the arm of a snowflake that reached all the way to his elbow. The pattern was sharp and followed one bigger scar and branched off into smaller ones (Jeanne thought it resembled a river network).

"Have you ever been struck by lightning?" Diarmuid asked.

Gawain looked up at the women's shocked faces before he looked back at Diarmuid. "Not that I can recall."

Diarmuid rubbed the back of his neck. "This looks like a lightning strike to me, rather recent as well."

Jeanne furrowed her brows and looked away. "That's rather odd…" she mumbled.

"What do you mean?" Arturia lifted a brow.

Jeanne nibbled on her lower lip and ran a hand through her hair. "If I can recall correctly…I'd say that it was after lightning struck at my house that Gawain came through the closet door. Do you think it has something to do with that, do you?"

Arturia rubbed her eyes with her right hand. "So you're saying that it was the lightning that teleported him?"

"Not necessarily the lightning, but Gawain mentioned he'd never seen the cabin there before. What if it is a spell? Think about it." Jeanne walked back and forth. "If the cabin had never existed before, but smoke was coming from it…what if it was an enchantment?"

"I've never met a sorcerer to have such power…Not even Merlin." Gawain stared at her, his brows furrowed. "Would someone really want me to go to the future?"

Jeanne shook her head. "No, I don't think it was all part of the plan. What if the cabin itself was an enchantment to lure him? But it so happened lightning struck the moment he touched the doorknob. No witch would dream of sending a random knight a thousand years into the future, it just doesn't add up."

"I'm not just a random knight, my lady!" Gawain drew a hand to his chest. "I am one of the most loved knights in the kingdom."

Arturia rolled her eyes. "Is that all you got from Jeanne?" She scoffed.

Gawain shot Arturia a glare while Diarmuid found the exchange rather amusing.

"Wait." Arturia looked back at Jeanne, ignoring Gawain's glare. "Gawain just said no sorcerer or sorceress would be as powerful…What about Morgan Le Fay? She's part of the whole Arthurian legend right? What if with the equinox she planned it? Lighting strikes usually at the highest places, right? What if she knew this and timed it?"

Gawain seemed to be deep in thought.

Jeanne nodded. "It's a possibility but what's the motive? Why would she do that? In fact, how would she have known Gawain would be in the forest? How would she have timed the lightning strike with him entering the cabin?"

"What if Gawain is essential to Arthur's battle with Mordred?" Arturia mulled. "I don't know what other motive she'd have."

Gawain blinked up at Jeanne with confusion. His distress was evident in his aqua eyes. "Battle with who? Why would she…? Mother would never…Would she?"

They all stared at him in shock.

"Shit," Arturia mumbled under her breath.

"Oh god, my own sister would fight the king?" Gawain took hold of his hair. "Why would she fight my king?" His hands clenched into fists and he had to sit down or else he'd collapse. "What do you mean?"

Diarmuid rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Jeanne expectantly. Jeanne and Arturia were both speechless and so he felt compelled to offer the distressed knight some answers. "Sir Gawain," he lulled, trying to be as comforting as possible, "it's not something to worry yourself over, Jeanne and Arturia were only providing theories, they didn't know Morgan was your mother and Arturia misspoke, right?"

Arturia nodded. "Yes, I mean, well…" She didn't know why she was lying because it didn't really matter whether he knew the truth or not, he would find out sooner or later. However, Arturia never doubted Diarmuid when he tried to de-escalate a situation. "What we know of Arthurian legend is mostly just speculation and numerous recountings of the story, they're all theories."

Gawain shook his head. "You know as well as I do that legends always have some truth, whether small or not."

Jeanne crouched down to his level and set her hand on his good shoulder. "What Arturia says is true. Remember, history is written by the victors, and changed by writers. We can't know how true these accounts are. In fact, in many, you're not the son of Morgan, you're unfaithful and hate Lancelot."

"Why would I ever hate Lancelot?" Gawain lifted his brow.

Jeanne could see the sorrow and confusion in his eyes. She couldn't imagine how it felt to learn that your mother would plan to kill someone you admire. Gawain was clearly overwhelmed with the world around him and with the possible situation of all the people he loved and cared for in the middle of a horrid dispute.

"I'm telling you…some of these accounts are fake. We shouldn't trust them. I apologize if the words that Arturia and I said hurt you in any way. We promise to stop at nothing to get you back home in no time. I will not make the same mistake of speaking ill of your mother."

Gawain gave her a pained smile. "Lady Jeanne, your gentleness…" He looked away. "You're right," he huffed, "my first priority is to get back to my England. Whatever may come to pass will be so once I have returned, but for now, it should be of little concern." He stood up, helping Jeanne to her feet as well. "Shouldn't we start looking?"

Jeanne smiled up at him. "Yes, let's start."

"Before that," Diarmuid interrupted, a frown on his face as his arms were crossed over his chest. "I think we should get him proper care for his arm."

"How so?" Arturia asked, lifting a brow and tilting her head. "We can't take him to a hospital."

"No, but we could splint his arm, give him some painkillers and secure it further with some KT tape," Diarmuid explained.

Jeanne piped up, "I can get the materials while you look through the books. I won't take long, I promise. Once I'm back, Diarmuid could tend to Gawain's arm. That way we save time."

"You're right." Arturia nodded. "We'll meet you back here."

Gawain had tried to protest against it, saying she shouldn't have to go out by herself but after more pressure and insurance from Jeanne's part, he remained silent and agreed.