Nine - Brilliant and Blunt
Days followed, and yet not a whisper was repeated of Gawain and Lana's disappearance. Due mostly to Arthur's shush-shush approach to the subject. Gawain was out of bed within two days, same as Lana. The fog, which entrapped the two, had no longer been seen, and Woads had been hard to locate. As usual, the Knights left for another mission, but at request, Gawain stayed for a proper healing.
Lana already knew she wouldn't touch a reins of her horse, even if she was lucky. Her brother Arthur and lover Lancelot wouldn't allow it. Damn them. Most of her time was spent in the study, she flipped through pages of notes Arthur had made. Pelagius gave him enormous amounts to study at his own free well, and Arthur took advantage of it. The small scribbled on the top corners of each page made Lana smirk that was whom Arthur was. Stacks of scripted notes, and books read several times before. Relaxing in the cushioned chair, her legs now firmly propped up with a adjacent pile of highly stack novels, Lana folded her arms, awestruck by Arthur's passion over the Pope, his God, and Rome.
Personally, she never found it appealing, and although Pelagius never forced her towards Christianity, the floating sense to convert was lingering. She was a Pagan by choice, and she would rather pour milk into the Mother Earth than knell down to a God, which there was no proof too.
The wick of each candle surrounding the study where close to finishing, but she was rather lazy, and with her back in such pain, she'd rather sit in the lasting darkness. Final sparks left the candles, until one burned alone, before dying along with the others. Her eyes connected shut, and with a yawn, she recounted her last conversation with Lancelot.
"...You couldn't prevent this. I couldn't even if I wanted too." Wrapped tightly within the puffy sheets, Lana sat up, facing the pacing Lancelot whom was decked out in his armor, ready to leave once Arthur would call.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Lancelot shouted, with flashes of heat and anger bouncing on her cheeks, Lana stood up, and slammed the bowl, which held water to the floor. And what drops hit the fire sizzled in the ambers, but Lancelot just kept pacing, his eyes deep in thought. "How could you allow yourself to be so reckless?"
"You allowed me to leave! So not all of this can be blamed on me!" Shouting without remorse, Lana placed her palm over her chest, looking at Lancelot with a sneering disgust. She'd remembered what Arthur told her, and the words of him shipping her off to Rome blurred her eardrums. Holding her tongue, she kept it secret, unwilling to allow another fight between the two close friends to burst. "You act like I gave him up! Like I voluntarily ripped this child from my womb and allowed he's cries never to be heard! Lancelot I am the one with an empty feeling, accompanied by my empty stomach!" His heels halted, his teeth latched together with his cheeks burning red. He leaned forward, his eyes nailing hers.
"My stomach is empty as well! He was apart of me, just enough - if not more than you!" Lancelot pointed his finger, it shook with his overwhelming anger. Lana placed her hands over her hips, her eyes sharp as glass.
"Yet you yell at me? As though this was my idea."
"This child meant everything too me! And for you to be so hasty, so irresponsible, it's something a mother would never do. Lana, until you give up all you're little hopes of being a Knight, you can never truly be a proper mother. Speak with Vanora, she might give you pointers." Lancelot was actually getting vicious, but Lana raised her hand up, uncontrolled, she struck Lancelot with her remaining energy.
"And once you remember who I am, you will regret those words." Lana hissed with a lowered voice. "You come crawling back here, and don't you be stunned if I turn away. I have no reason to waste my life with a man who claims I desired to loose my own child." Lana stepped back, her eyes never allowing salty tears to form; this argument finally boiled over within a few days of knowing Lana had lost their baby. "Lancelot you do well at pushing those away who care the most."
"Is there a reason you didn't see the Knights off two days ago?" Scratching her forearm, Lana turned around, her eyes opened wide as light from the opened door flushed in. It was Gawain holding a burning candle. As close as the two where, Lana couldn't reveal her issues with Lancelot, Gawain had no right to know. But he knew of her loss, which was why he'd had Vanora make a berry pie she received in the middle of the night.
"My attitude is devastating. So I shall sit in the dark. Ignoring everyone." She declared, her hand in the air, pointing at the burnt candles, sitting down the last flame to lighten the room, Gawain crossed his arms over his chest. Watching Lana, she raised her eyebrows.
"Is there something you wanted?"
"Come! Lets get some wine," His great hands lurched over, and clutching her arms, Gawain pulled her from the chair.
After some rather intense persuading, Lana was lured down to and empty table in the back. Gawain pointed to free chair, and made Lana sit. He waited at the bar, Vanora smiled while pouring two full glasses of wine for two. With a boyish grin, Gawain's hair tossed about, illuminating this scar on the top right side of his forehead. It was red from the markings, and it had been embedded in Gawain's skin as a child. Lana's eyes twirled over the star connecting with a line, she was always so curious as to why it was directly over his right eye. She could have bet Gawain had told her before as to why, but it wouldn't spark any memory.
When his feet slipped under the table top, with his glass cupped by his lips, Gawain gulped his wine as Lana stared.
"What?" He asked slightly embarrassed, his glass covered his mouth, licking off the dripping wine.
"That scare, above your eye. What does it mean?" Gawain relieved it wasn't something else she was inquiring about rested down his glass, and grunted firmly before laying his elbows on the table. Lana trailed her fingertips over the creases of the grain, waiting for Gawain to respond across the table.
"It was the same symbol what was placed upon my father's head, and upon his father and so on." Gawain hunched over his glass, staring into the deep purple color, watching the ripples from his movements. "It means protection and greatness." Gulping down another swig of Wine, Lana leaned over, as Gawain sipped, she touched the marking.
"That had to hurt," Flinching, Gawain pulled back.
"Worse than an arrow to the back," He spat, Lana gave him a taunting glare, before leaning her back in the rocky chair, it squeaked loudly, Lana figured it was Bors chair. She picked up her maroon dress, just enough to pick up her feet and cross them over the seat of the chair. Minutes past, and drinking the last few sips of wine, Gawain snatched Lana's cup, and refilled the plentiful alcohol.
"I believe your attempting to get me drunk Gawain." Lana piped up as her full glass went under her noise.
"Best way to reveal the pain I say." Lana gave a small grunt, she tilted her head. An odd theory, but theories sometimes would twist into the truth. Bending over her knees, and laying her head on her arms over the table, Lana sighed.
"Pain," Lana whispered, Gawain moved his glass, so he could better view Lana's new position. "Without pain you can't feel the joy of life. Without pain, you can't be grateful, or honest. In pain, those expose their true intentions." Muttered Lana, she could imagine most of what she said was helped by the wine. But Gawain's thought provoked face made him believe otherwise. Arthur and Lana shared nothing of the same blood, but their minds were wound together. Arthur was capable of speaking brilliant comments, Lana had a talent for blunt. It was in these times when their roles were reverse. "Lancelot has an notable gift to shift pain." His head flashed up, Lana as still in resting her head. Gawain watched her, as her eyes fluttered open and shut, she had to be tired, possibly smashed, Lana wasn't a huge drinker, but once she'd had a few sips her head was whirling. "Always my fault, he's the strong one." Lana whispered mockingly. "My dreams to fight beside my brother and his Knights is irresponsible. And my chances of being a fit mother will never increase, until I burn my weapons for good and learn my place isn't on the battle field."
"Did he say that to you?" Gawain leaned over, trying to limit their exchange with any outsiders. Lana groaned while closing her eyes.
"In so many words," Gawain shook his head, he could never question Lancelot. As Knights they had to up hold a trust and bond within the circle, and Gawain in no way could get involved with Lana's relationship to Lancelot, it wasn't his place or right. Lana was still someone he cared for, thus he would do anything for. He studied her face as she lifted her chin and took a mouth full of wine. Gawain reached over and took the glass from her grasp.
"No more purple liquid for you." Tossing the last contents of the cup on the dirt, Gawain tossed the glass behind the bar, he hoped the clay would up hold the falls.
"Mummy! Mummy Daddy is home!" Gawain turned, it was one of Bors' children running towards Vanora. Gawain sat up, if Arthur found Lana drunk right now, he'd pass out. In a panic, Gawain took next to Lana's side, and whispering in her ear, she opened her eyes.
"Stop worrying Gawain, I don't care about what state they see me in." Lana smirked, she seized Gawain's shirt, and pulled him to sit next to her. For a moment, Lana's drunken slur was straight, and her radiant eyes shimmered in the night. Gawain searched his stomach for strength, this would be interesting.
Gawain watched as he saw a sight that he'd never experienced before. All the people within the protecting wall collected around the chained gate, waiting in the distance, whispering words and shushing one another. Gawain rested his arm on the table behind Lana's back, She crossed her legs and sat staring off near the opened gate. The pouncing hooves trotted as one, as dust clouds erupted into the sky, giving Gawain a chance to see their position, without seeing the Knights in front of him.
"Arthur, Lancelot, Galahad, Bors, Dagonet, and Tristan. All there and accounted for," Lana was pointing with her finger when their name was called, she grinned, when all the men came home, it was a good day. Vanora jumped onto Bors, giggling in delight. Jols, took two horses at a time, like routine they headed for the pub. "Now watch, you all flow over here, immediately place a drink in your hand and forget about the mission you just accomplished." Lana elbowed Gawain as he gave her a look of disbelief, he laughed before pushing her elbow from his side. Galahad was the first with drink in hand.
"And how are our two injured?"
"Good enough to hit you with my axe," Gawain snarled with genuine amusement.
"And beat your ass with a stick," Lana threw in, the three laughed intensely, and Gawain hugged Lana with his arm before standing up and patting Galahad's back. Lana watched the two best friends smile, their happiness made all the people around them glow. As the two spoke, Lana noticed Arthur walking near. He wasn't much of a drinker either, she supposed he came to speak to Gawain. Lana closed her eyes, and once they opened back up, her eyes where shocked as Lancelot gave her a glare from hell while passing her, and heading to the pub. Closing her once parted lips, her inhale didn't stop the blood from heating in her veins. Lancelot's temper always got the best of him.
The shaking sound of armor was pulsating, and Lana rolled her tongue over her back teeth, when Arthur, who's armor jingled, knelt before her.
"How is your back?" He asked, Lana tilted her head, the sight of her brother's face gave a warm beat to her heart. Arthur did well at causing things which enraged Lana to vanish.
"Healing, most of the pain has gone."
"That is good to hear. In time you shall ride Morty again?" Arthur's eyes widened like he was in candy store after hearing her pain had subsided. Hazel eyes rammed into hers, and the muffled resentment between them had evaporated. Lana couldn't help by laugh, she was the only one to name her horse, and the fact that Arthur used his name brought a smile to her brazed cheeks. "Your cut is also fading." Lana pulled away the sheer shall she used to drape of her shoulders, the cut was now a scab reduced in size.
"Yes, I believe in a few days I will ride." Lana agreed, Arthur smiled and lifting himself from his knee, he held out his palm to her.
"Come, we have much to speak over."
