Disclaimer: I do not own any of the character names, save my own original creations. I do not wish to be compensated for this work, nor do I wish to infringe on any copyrights held by any stakeholders of the movie King Arthur. This work is an original creation, based on the legend of King Arthur and his knights.
Scribe Notes:
All: I am so glad that the last two chapters were not as horrid as I thought they would be. I wasn't sure if Gareth becoming the banner would be too much and I am glad it wasn't. In fact, thinking a bit, it would have been a great honour, since the Saxons would only do "that" with adversaries they thought worthy. Gareth must;ve been a green devil (grin)
On to comments:
Calliann: You are welcome. I am moved that you cried for Gawain. These chapters were exhilirating to write, the emotion pouring out of them made me realize that I could put it on paper, I am capable. Very empowering these chapters were. these two are also quite emotional, but more on a closure level. I hope you enjoy!
Melosine: War is horrid, and back then it was brutal and ugly and messy. Could you imagine the stink on the battlefield. Then the disease, and the superstition. It's no wonder there was so much mental illness , from what records there are from back then tell us.
Thank you so much for your review. I am glad I made your breath stop as you waited to see how Gawain would end the chiefs life. I didthe same as I wrote it! (grin)
drew'sgirl: Hi! Good to see your name in the review box again. Have a great vacation. I am touched that you cried when reading these chapters.
ElvenStar5: Hey, glad I could surprise you with that. Thanks very much for your enthusiasm! Here are two more for you, I hope they work well for you.
Babaksmiles: Have a great vacation! I too feel relief that we can now begin to heal Gawain, and move on. Who knew tieing up loose plot threads in a story could take me in a whole 'nother side plot? It's fun, I tell you what...
Sokorra Lewis: yeah it will be interesting to see how it manifests. Hopefully the next two chapters I am posting will help. So glad you liked them and that you didn't expect the twist!
Ailis-70: I had a migrain on thursday as well. I hate them. I am glad you liked the last two chapters, they were fun, despite the heartache, tow rite. I think sometimes I get into these "zen" states where when I write its very fulfilling and I like what comes out so much more. I wish they happened every day.
I wanted to give him a chance to "kill" his dreams along with the chief. I just hope it works. I haven't got that part written yet. I think it will. Now to get him happy again! (wink)
lilstrummrgrl527: You bet! He does fight with agression that is very primal. That is why I chose him for the nightmares. I am touched that you cried, and felt their pain. It means much to me that you are able to see that in the way I wrote them. And did you catch that the chief called him a lion? that part was for you (grin).
gwenn0: I never did either, but that is how society started, and I thought it would be fun to throw in that he learns from Cerys and its starting to shape his thoughts! I figured it would be history to them, since Mesopotamia was ancient to them even in the 500's., so lets throw it in. I did that before with the story of Joesph and his colourful cloak. That owuld have been before their time, there would have been writings on it even then. Brinn would have liked that story so I put it in. (grin)
Here are a couple more chapters, that show more emotion, but I hope they work for the two of them, based on what you said about learning off each other.
I didn't misunderstand your last thoughts on her. Its great! She's becoming the medieval version of a liberated and confident woman! She can enjoy sex and she does. Woo! and yes, they are learning from each other in that sense and its making them both better people.
Petpoor: I think she should. (grin) I am glad you thought Gawain's closure was handled properly. thanks so much for reading! Here are two more for you!
Chapter 54: Bravery and Comfort
The breeze blew stiffly across the top of the battlements, as Cerys and Dory stood and watched the knights riding home. It was close to dark, the sun was setting behind them, casting its pink and orange glow across the horizon, like a distant fire. From where she was, she watched the outlines of the procession move slowly along the wall towards the entrance to the fort. She couldn't hear anything but the breeze through the trees and the snapping of the pennants from the turret to her right.
They were barely making any noise as they proceeded. Normally by now they would be laughing, joking amongst each other, punctuated by the jingling of tack and snorting of horses, tired from a gallop. Their relief at being home would have echoed up to her by now.
She should have been able to at least hear Bors.
Something wasn't right.
Three of the horses were empty, all lead by one man. It was dark enough that Cerys couldn't see who it was. Her heart was beating, and her hand was clenched to Dory's arm.
"I can't see who it is." She whispered.
Dory peered out as best she could. "I think I see Arthur, beside him his Bors... and... there is Perceval, I recognize his helmet...but..."
Cerys could bear it no more. She flew down the stairs and towards the stables, intent on meeting the men. As she passed the kitchens, she called to Nimli.
"They re home!"
Nimli stuck her head out, and waved, her face pink from standing over the stove.
"Alright, be there in a moment!" She called.
The knights filed into the stable yard, alight with torches. Cerys could not see Lancelot, and her heart stopped. Where was he? She made her way directly to Arthur.
The men looked tired beyond what they should be, staggering in, dragging tired feet. She counted the horses in the dim lighting.
Six horses, four men.
"Arthur?" She asked quietly. She touched his arm. Arthur handed Meritas to Jols and turned to her. In the firelight, she could see the blood splashes across his armour, the lines of worry on his face. He caught her eyes and she saw pain. Hard, raw pain. He reached out and held her shoulder a moment, then pulled his hand away.
It made her breath hitch. Someone had died. She began to look about, panic rising in her. Where was Lancelot? She still couldn't see him amongst the horses and the men. Brinn had arrived and was taking Klyndd into the stables, Galahad talking to him quietly as they walked.
"Lancelot... Lancelot!" She screamed then, dodging through the horses. Where was he? Oh Gods... please... let him be behind his horse. Let him be alright...
"He's at the cemetery with Gawain, love." Bors said softly, catching her by the arm. "We are going back in a moment."
Cerys stifled a sob. The cemetery? What had happened? She looked wildly about once more.
"What do you mean?" She said, wrestling from his grasp, turning and facing him, her eyes wide, her hands beginning to shake.
"Cerys..." Arthur said as he reached her side again, holding out a hand. "It's alright..."
"NO!" She screamed, stepping away from him. "No..."
Galahad re-appeared from the stable, Perceval just ahead of him.
Perceval strode over to the group around her, looking angrily at Bors. Cerys looked from one face to the next. Why wasn't anyone saying anything? He mind was whirling, her stomach heaving. Was he dead? Was Gawain dead? She stood in place and turned, searching for him in the now empty stable yard.
"Where is he?" She croaked, tears falling down her face. She folded her arms across her stomach. No.. This was not happening. He had just fallen behind; he had stopped before he got to the stable... He was waiting for her in their rooms...
Arthur held out his hand "Cerys please, he's f..."
Perceval interrupted him. "Bloody Hells Bors, you just made her think he was dead." He growled, stepping in front of her. He bent his knees to see into her eyes, and held out his hands to her shoulders to steady her. She stopped and looked at him, biting her lip, her whole body now shaking with sobs.
"He's not dead, Cerys. He and Gawain are there to bury Gareth. Tristan continued his run to the coast."
Cerys collapsed against him, the relief almost too much to handle. "I thought... he wasn't...Gareth?"
Perceval handed her wordlessly off to Arthur, a look passing between them. Arthur wrapped his arms around her and rocked her, whispering quiet words to her. Perceval slapped Bors up the back of the head, and the two walked off back towards the kitchens, muttering to each other under their breath.
Galahad all but fell into Dory's outstretched arms as she reached him, her own face streaked with tears.
"Gareth is home now Dory. He's home."
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
Brinn arrived back at the stables carrying a sword from his rooms and some travel lanterns. Galahad had asked him to bring them to the stable yard.
Why on earth were they going back out to the cemetery at this time of night? It made no sense, but, Galahad was really not in the mood to ask questions to, so he just did as he was bidden.
He saw Cerys visibly upset, and he noticed that Lancelot had not joined them yet. Where was he? He was worried now. No one looked very happy. A small panic began to rise in him. What if he was the reason they were going back? He couldn't be dead; he was too good a warrior.
"Galahad? I've brought the sword." He said hesitantly, handing it to Galahad, who was talking quietly with Dory. Dory looked down at Brinn as he reached their side, her face white and pale, her lips quivering.
"Thank you. Can you help me again?" Galahad asked as he strung the scabbard across his shoulder. "I need you to bring the women up with you to the cemetery."
Brinn nodded. This was especially strange. He stood for a moment more, looking around, and then back to Galahad. He shifted his feet. He should ask, but would he be thought of as less brave? He didn't want to cry in front of the knights, and he could feel his eyes stinging. He blinked, and took a deep breath in, squaring his shoulders, his fists tight around the handles on the lanterns.
He could be brave in the face of bad news. He was going to be a knight. He set the lanterns down and folded his arms across his chest.
Knights did not cry.
"He's fine Brinn, he stayed back with Gawain." Galahad answered before Brinn could ask.
Brinn let out a huge sigh and turned away to begin the task of finding Lorina. She would help him find the rest of the women.
He felt tears trickle over his cheeks as he ran towards the common. He wasn't sad, no... These weren't sad tears. He was overjoyed that the man he thought of as a father was safe.
He hoped, albeit briefly, that these types of tears wouldn't be considered cowardly, once he was a knight.
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
Lancelot watched the lanterns bob and weave through the cemetery as they came closer to where he and Gawain stood in the growing darkness. Gawain was sweating through his armour; he and Lancelot had dug a small hole with his axe and bare hands. Lancelot had long ago stripped his off, and was standing bare-chested, sweat mixed with dirt.
Every bone in his body hurt, every muscle was screaming. He adjusted the bandage across his thigh and sighed. It was going to be a long night. He wanted to sleep. He groped through his pile of armour beside him and found his water skin and took a huge swig. It was slightly warm from being against Klyndd on the way back, but it was wet, and that was more important right then.
"Gawain." Lancelot said quietly, "Water."
Gawain took it wordlessly and slugged back, some dribbling down his beard, dripping off onto his cuirass. It left streaks down the chest, cleaning off the blood where it ran. Lancelot was sure they both looked like hell. He felt the blood caked across his thigh crack as he moved.
He didn't want Cerys to see him like this, but he was aching to hold her, see her face.
The lanterns had reached them by now. Arthur stopped, and Perceval, Bors, and Galahad arranged themselves by the hole. Jols came a moment later, Hywel lock-stepped with him.
All faces were sombre, all thoughts directed towards the small bundle placed directly beside Gareth's original marker in the cemetery. Lancelot swallowed as Galahad brought Gareth's sword over and placed it in Gawain's hands. Gawain looked at it a moment.
"I can't. He's your cousin Lancelot." He said as he handed it over to Lancelot.
Lancelot pulled the sword out of its scabbard. He looked to where they had placed Gareth's helmet all those years ago, when they had marked his place with their companions, long dead. There had been no remains before. Now the helmet stood sentry over a small hole, in which they would place...
It wasn't fair, he thought briefly. Gareth deserved so much more than this. They all did. At that thought he looked up and scanned what he could see of the rest of the cemetery. It was sad, and decrepit, and he hated it here. But... they needed to honour him somehow.
His eyes caught another set of lanterns weaving their way. He saw Brinn's face outlined as they neared. He saw Guinevere holding her skirts as she stepped her way through the maze, and Lorina and Dory arm in arm. He saw Nimli gravely holding another lantern, her eyes downcast as she held the hand of...
Cerys. Gods, there she was. He felt relief wash over him. Never, he thought, was he so glad to see her. He handed the sword back to Gawain for a moment and stepped away from the circle of men to meet the second group.
"Brinn." He greeted the young boy. Brinn stopped in front of him.
Brinn looked worried as well, his small face showing determination not to look upset. He looked up to Lancelot. Lancelot saw that his eyes were close to tears.
"I..."Brinn started, then swallowed and blinked rapidly.
Brave boy, Lancelot thought. He must've thought the worst when Lancelot didn't come back with the group. Hebent down to look him in the eye.
"It's alright." He felt a pang in his heart. This young man was more to him than a squire, perhaps he had been for awhile.
It was funny how grief could bring those closest to you into such a focus, that you would realize things about them you had never thought of before.
Brinn nodded, trying very hard to be a young man. Lancelot opened up his arms and Brinn shot into them. Guinevere picked the lantern out of Brinn's hand as she passed.
Lancelot felt another set of arms go around him, and lips come to his temple.
"Love, you had me so worried." She whispered into his ear, her voice wavering.
He cursed his decision to not come back to the fort before coming out here. She must have been beside herself, not seeing him with the horses. He felt her shake slightly, and he knew she had been scared. He grimaced and berated himself. He should have known better.
Lancelot rescued one arm out from around Brinn and enfolded her shoulders to him. The three stayed that way for a moment, not moving, not talking.
He moved his head so that he could rest his forehead to hers. Their eyes regarded one another then.
"I'm here now." He said quietly. "I'm sorry I scared you."
Two sets of arms squeezed him tighter as he said it.
Dear Reader:
The moments in between when you are panicked about someone and then realizing they are fine. I thought of all the people who could not get through to loved ones on cell phones after the bombings this week in London, and as well, in the Trade Centre attacks. What was it like until they heard the voice on the other end saying "I am alright". I tried to think of that panic then relief as I wrote this, the overwhelming mixture of the two.
I am very, very, very lucky to live where I do. I look out my window and the maple leaves are glinting in the afternoon sun, waving slightly in the warm July breeze. I see them, and I think of my country, and how safe we are here, relative to other places.
I think I may pop out and put a Canadian flag on my car's bumper.
Cardeia
