Disclaimer: As chapter one; so please, for the love of God, do not make me keep writing it out people!

The poem was originally written in 1932…..but I do believe it fitted the story well.

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE AND SOME SEXUAL REFERENCES (though not too graphic) SO READ AT YOUR OWN PERIL.

All reviews, and constructive criticism, gratefully received – but no flaming please; and I will try to update regularly.

'Thoughts'

"Speech"

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Bethan & Lucan

Chapter Twelve – Grief

Gawain could not function; he knew he was still breathing, he could feel his chest moving. Beyond that he could not think…..she was gone, his Ysabeau was gone.

Vanora brought him the baby; a girl. He had wanted a daughter; a daughter that was like her mother, because he loved her so much. Now he had the daughter, but not the woman he loved.

He took the child and immediately regretted it; she was her mother's daughter, even at a few moments old he could see Ysabeau in her. He handed her to Bethan; he looked at the young woman before him. She looked heartbroken, but did not give into the tears. He wondered absently why, why she would not grieve.

He went to speak, but he found he could not utter a word. He looked imploringly at his Little Scout….she sank to her knees beside him and wrapped him in the tightest hug he had ever had - finally one whispered word escaped his lips "Why?"

It was too much for Bethan; she had tried to remain strong, to be the rock for all to lean on - but she could not….

Life was cruel, it was unfair and she raged against whatever had done this to her best friend in the world. She stayed with him until he slept and then crept outside…..

Lancelot and Galahad found her with her face buried in her hands on the battlements crying and raging against the world - they calmed her and led her back to Gawain; he had awoke but she was not there, and he was panic stricken wondering why she had deserted him too "He will have need of you Little Scout, in a lot of ways – you seem to comfort him, please try to contain your grief for him." Lancelot spoke quietly.

The old Bethan would have cussed them out and raged about her own loss; but she had seen much in recent months and had grown. She knew his loss far outweighed any she would ever suffer, until mayhap her own family passed as all were wont to do.

She went back to Gawain, who flew to her and wrapped her in a fierce hug. They never spoke; but she hugged him back as fiercely, and he took comfort from the mere fact that she was there – a small, friendly light; amidst the cloying, terrible darkness.

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Bethan spent the next three days with Gawain and Daralis, or Darry as she was now called; as she was still feeding Tris, though he was weaning now, so she was able to wet-nurse Darry too.

He was beside himself with grief; and it was all she could do to keep from crying herself, whilst she tended him and the two babies.

The funeral had been awful - he had refused to go, so she went in his stead; Vanora, darling that she was, had had Tris and Darry.

After everyone had gone she stood there; she wanted to say goodbye to her friend, to let her know she knew she was not in that cold wet earth - but in a better place, the place she had told the children…

"Ysabeau….I know a poem. It is old and I do not know who wrote it; a man I think who knew he was to die in battle, I think it says much of you and where you are. I know you would not leave Gawain and Darry - not really." She cleared her throat and though her face was passive, her voice held an emotion so grief stricken as to move those, who were now moving back to the fort, to tears. They stopped and listened:

"Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

I believe this Ysabeau – I do not believe you lay in the earth. The best part of you, the part we all loved" she choked back the tears "the part that made you what you were, is now in a better place. You will be an angel Ysabeau…….and the best and bravest kind, a Guardian Angel. Arthur told me they watch over those they love…..as I pray you watch over Gawain. He is heartsick without you, and I worry for him so…." A tear slid unheeded down her cheek.

A thumb reached out and wiped it away. She looked up, startled, into Gawain's tear stained face "I miss her too, so much Little Scout – but could not let you come alone….." was all he said, but it was all that was needed. He wrapped his arms around her waist as he sank to his knees and sobbed. The others left them to their grief.

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Lucan was worried about the strain on her health; but knew there was naught to be done for now, except to try to be there for her…..

But it was difficult as Gawain refused to let her out of his sight for long. He was terrified of being left alone with Darry; and found strange comfort in the young woman he was so close to now that Bors joked you could not see daylight between them.

She never made him speak or talked to him over much. She was merely there, a presence in the background comforting him - hands that soothed his nightmares and arms that hugged away the pain; she became her father – silent and ever watchful.

Tristan indeed was the only other one who he allowed inside his private piece of Hades; even Galahad and his insistent chatter had been barred from his brother's life - the first time since their conscription.

"I only wish to see him…" he sighed to Bethan; as Gawain, behind the door, merely shook his head at her tugging at her hand to close it – to shut the world out of his grief. Only his Little Scout, or her father, could ever approach him.

She stepped outside as far as she could, with him still holding her hand "I wish you could, but he refuses. He only wishes to sit and be still Gal; I understand that, as does Papa, but everyone else just talks all the time and constantly asks how he is……" her words trailed off as Galahad nodded.

"Let him know I am here if he needs me….whatever the hour."

She reached up and embraced the youngest knight in a tight hug with her free arm "You are his truest friend and brother; he does know that Gal…he does."

"I may be his brother Bethan, but you are his truest friend - all who have watched these past days bear witness to that."

"If I cannot help my Gawain, what hope is there for me?" was her sad reply as she felt the door open wider and Gawain's hand tug hers back towards him.

"Bethan?" His hoarse voice and red rimmed eyes tugged at Galahad's heart, as he caught a brief glimpse of the man he called brother. They all heard a wail…

"Darry needs feeding; I had best go….tell Lucan I will be with him to cook his meal in an hour." She was finally pulled back inside, and the door resolutely shut.

Galahad sighed to himself as he walked away…..poor Gawain, to lose so much. But at least he and Darry had Bethan; he could see what a comfort to both father and daughter she was.

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The next day Tristan came in with Milo. He took in his exhausted daughter and the haunted man before him. He took Tris from her for a moment; he adored his grandson beyond words and was always happy to have a hold of him.

"How fares he?" He asked, gesturing to Gawain as he boosted Tris on his shoulder.

Bethan shook her head "Not well Papa; I am sorely worried for him. He barely sleeps for the nightmares he has, only eats enough to keep a rat alive…." They both looked at the gaunt young knight before them.

Milo sat in Bethan's lap "Can we take Tris for a while Befan? Would that help you?"

"Aye, my little man, for you are indeed a little man now; no longer a boy at all Milo. Offering to aid you sister so…." She hugged her little brother tightly. "I love you very much, never forget that."

The father and his young son took the little boy outside…..

"Well, Young Tris - shall I teach you to scout?" enquired Milo good-naturedly "I am your uncle after all!" He grinned.

"I think he is a little young to go scouting - maybe at a year..." Tristan tried to hide the smirk.

"Well, can I hold my nephew then?" He held out his arms.

"Let us go to the stables and you can settle with him in the hay…."

Once arrived and settled Tristan noticed how all the horses calmed as the little one was brought into them. It looked as if Merlin was right, he would be accepted by all animals.

"He has very strange eyes Papa….."

"Aye, my brother was the same though…."

"Really?"

"Aye, he had one brown eye and one blue one." He smiled as he remembered Milo "You are named for him."

"Will I ever see him?"

"Nay, he died when I was 13 and he was 11, it was the year before I was conscripted by the Romans. He contracted a fever from a wound on his leg….I still miss him." He sighed.

"Am I like him?"

"Aye, very much; you remind me of him every day."

"What of Tris; who does he remind you of - Lucan or Befan?"

"Your sister, definitely your sister; may the Goddess help her – but your mother will merely say it is 'divine retribution' for all she suffered at Bethan's hands!" They both laughed.

"I think he will be a bit like Lucan too though."

"I think he must be; he is his son after all."

They both regarded the solemn little boy, seeing much of Lucan in him at that moment; then Milo tickled him and the squeal he let out set all the horses neighing as if in laughter with him.

Father and son exchanged a knowing look, he might be a little like his father but there was a lot of Bethan in him - may the Gods help the lot of them! They both laughed out loud along with Tris……

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Bethan could stand no more; she was beside herself with worry over Gawain and decided to put her plan into action.

She remembered where her mother kept the parchment from all those years ago, that she had used to memorise what Merlin had told her to do to resurrect the fallen knights.

She went through her parents things and found the parchment eventually. She gathered the items together; it was difficult and took her a few days with whatever moments she could spare between Gawain and Lucan.

She made her way to Ysabeau's grave and started the charm; she laid the herbs and shining violet liquid round the grave of her dead friend and then put powdered earth about it. She rose to her feet and stepped to the bottom of the small graveyard.

"I call on the soul of one of the fallen here buried…..Ysabeau, return from the realms of the dead. Come back to your husband, Gawain, Sarmatian Knight to Arthur – King of the Britons.

Return to us Ysabeau; many here miss you and wish you back amongst them. Your time came too soon, and fate has not finished with you – destiny has yet to see you to the end of your path.

HEAR ME – RETURN TO ME! YSABEAU!"

She finished her keening, for all this was spoken in a language that no one, except a Woad, would recognise, she waited……..

Nothing happened, so she repeated the charm….again nothing. She growled her frustration….Guido joining her.

Then a hand on her shoulder caused her to turn. "It will not work child, it was her time; he needs you now." He pointed to Gawain who was running up the hill towards her.

She fell to her knees "It is not fair Merlin…..I should be there….she was good and kind and I am not! She should live…and I would gladly trade my life for her….I hate to see him so……so lost!" She hung her head in her hands, and sobbed.

"What is it! Does she ail! Bethan? Bethan!" Gawain was becoming increasingly agitated and upset – first Ysabeau, now Bethan. He had been asleep with her tucked against him comforting him that he was not as alone as he felt; but when he woke she was gone. BETHAN!" he shouted.

She did not answer, Merlin shook his head "She tried to raise her for you…." there was suddenly hope in Gawain's eyes, dashed a moment later as Merlin continued "It did not work, it was Ysabeau's time. Bethan offered to trade lives, hers for Ysabeau; she only wants you to be happy - she hates to see you so lost, boy. Her heart breaks and not just for the friend in the ground…."

"She is not in the ground" Bethan leapt up and spun on the shaman. "She is somewhere better - I just wish I could find out where so I could bring her back to Gawain! I would gladly trade my life for hers, for it breaks my heart to see him so" she sobbed "it does, it does!" she tore down the hill as it started to pour with rain.

Gawain stood for a moment and then watching her fall in the mud, he ran after her. Sliding to a stop on his knees in the mud next to her "I am so sorry Gawain. I was so sure it would work…I did not lie; I would trade, I would trade my life with hers to make you happy again!" she sobbed once more as he pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her wet hair.

"Bethan…please….you are my dearest friend and whilst I would love my Ysabeau back with me" his voice hitched "I would not trade my Little Scout; for I know she would never wish it and would hate herself for eternity if you did such a thing - and I could not imagine my life without my best friend by my side." It was the most he had said since Ysabeau had died.

She flung her arms round his neck "Gawain….Gawain….I am sorry." He picked her up in his arms and trudged back to his room with her to the children.

Merlin raised his head to the rain and sighed "My Goddess of Destiny why must you torment them so? Surely it would be better to get the pain done together, than let them suffer like this?" There was a loud clap of thunder as if in answer.

He hung his head muttering almost to himself "Aye, mayhap you are right; she has he with her and loves him dearly that is plain to see, and she is lucky to have him. I do not question, it is only that she is the light in my old heart and it is heavy yet with what is still to come; but you are right, it is your will and I will not contest it as Odell did - she will be happy yet with the husband….."

He turned and followed them slowly back down the hill.

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Gawain had started to improve after this night; if nothing else Bethan had helped him start to grieve less intensely, the nightmares faded. But he still grieved, and shut himself away from all but his Little Scout and her father; she decided there was still one more thing she had to do…

It saddened her, but he would still care not for Daralis. Bethan did not mind too much as she loved the little girl with all her heart, she who looked so much like her lost friend. But whenever she watched Lucan with Tris, it broke her heart to see Gawain ignore Darry.

"We could take her?" Suggested Lucan, "I adore her, you know that; and I would see more of you if she were with us." He added ruefully "I know that is selfish….

"Nay, nay….you have been more than patient; but to be honest he needs me full as much as she, so it would not change the situation overmuch - though I hope I have made up for the neglect when we are together and moving our furniture?" she smiled gently, nuzzling his bottom lip causing him to groan into her mouth and crush her to him.

"Aye – aye that you have, my heart; but I do worry for her…." He knitted his brows.

"Nay, she is his daughter and I will be there for them both - I gave my word. When he comes to his senses he will bitterly regret all this; I will not worsen that guilt when it comes. But whilst I will love and care for her, so must Gawain." She pondered for a moment. "We will do a 'lock in'."

"Are you sure?" Lucan looked surprised. It is what they had taken to calling their little ruse used on Dagonet and Ilara all those years ago; it had been used by others since, and had worked every time…

"About what?" Tristan asked as he and Arthur walked up, with the other knights behind.

Lucan and Bethan explained what she wanted to do, they asked the same thing; "Are you sure?" Tristan stared intently at his daughter. Like Gawain, she looked a shadow; he worried for her.

"Aye, I am sure - the only difference is I want to be locked in with him, and with Tris. I will be needed if Darry needs feeding, likewise Tris, or if he resolutely refuses to have aught to do with her; I will not put her at risk of neglect. But I will abide by your wishes." She spoke quietly and kept her eyes lowered.

Both men looked at her with a start. "She has been like this for some days now" Lucan sighed quietly "I miss the old Bethan…."

Arthur tilted her chin and made her look at him "Do what you will Bethan, we do not only want our knight and brother back, we wish our Little Scout and friend back too." He looked at the young woman in front of him. She was approaching 18 now, was a mother to two if the truth be told and could no longer be called a girl.

He saw the life draining from her much as it did from Gawain. Doing 'the tie that binds' with him was pulling her soul down with his - or mayhap his grief and friendship merely weighed heavily on her. Whatever it was he could see her drowning in the despair of his friend full as much as the man himself.

He did not like this Bethan; he hankered after the old, the one who would challenge and argue - ride, fight and cuss them out; not merely accept and acquiesce to every order and every suggestion.

Gawain's dependency on her was the talk of the fort; all knew their friendship ran deep, but no one really knew the depth until now. For his wife to will her daughter to her with her dying breath proved that depth of friendship ran to her as well.

He sighed; it was a heavy burden to place on such young shoulders. "Do whatever you think necessary Little Scout, the knights will support you as we did all those years ago." He smiled at the memory…..they had been so much happier then.

"Thank you Arthur." She dipped her head. Then straightened, a little of the old fire returned and a flicker of the old Bethan briefly flared into life "then there is no time like the present!"

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A few minutes later Gawain was out looking for Bethan….she had been gone over half an hour and he knew Darry would want feeding and changing. As the time passed she was looking more and more like her mother, and he could not – would not – look at her.

Aside from that, he admitted only to himself, he missed his Little Scout. She did not nag at him, or commiserate with him; she had turned into her father, had he said that before? Probably….the days passed in a blur now, he barely remembered what he thought from moment to moment let alone day to day.

But she had, she had become Tristan - ever watchful and supportive, always ready to help.

Then, praise the Gods, Little Scout appeared and led him back to the room - he was not even aware of the other knights. His eyes and mind were fixed on his beacon of hope leading him by the hand….

It was only when he heard the door barred from outside, and heard her small voice with a hint of sorrow and saw her eyes look at him levelly as she said "Gawain, welcome to your 'lock-in" that he began to panic…..