A/N: Yay! Everyone's back together! I'm very happy that I don't have two storylines to bounce back and forth between any longer (although the next story will also follow two different storylines...). I know that not much has happened here, or in the last chapter; I kind of feel like I'm rambling along a little, but this is also how the story is leading itself so... Anyways, I expect I'll be winding up in the next few chapters, but we'll see!
Also, I've been rewatching Hannibal while I've been writing lately, and I feel like Galahad is really taking on Will Graham's voice-than you, Hugh Dancy, for your wide range of character portrayal xD It might be a slightly good thing that Tristan isn't in this story, because then he'd probably be taking on Hannibal Lecter's voice, which could lead to a very interesting shift in the tone of the story.
Anyways, as usual, I'd love to hear from you! Feel free to leave a review with your thoughts, opinions, etc!
Disclaimer: see chapter 1.
.*.*.*.*.*.
The next few days were a flurry of anticipation and activity in the fort. As soon as word of Arthur's return spread, a hope that the occupants of the town hadn't realized they'd lost returned to their hearts, and a fresh spring was in just about everyone's step. Preparations for a celebration to welcome Arthur and the new arrivals with him, and the barracks were readied to house everyone until more permanent housing could be found or built.
"So, once Gawain's back, where will you two live?" Bedivere asked Cymbeline one afternoon while they patrolled the edge of the forest near the fort. "You're welcome to keep staying with me; it can't hurt to have extra hands to help with the babies."
"Maybe," Cymbeline said. "But once Lucan and Griflet come back, things are going to get crowded in your little apartment. Also, I'm sure the two of them are tired of sharing a bed."
Bedivere laughed. "Probably. Both of them keep accusing the other of kicking them in their sleep. And half the time, I wake up with Lucan in my bed because Griflet rolled over and pushed him onto the floor."
"See!" Cymbeline asked. "I think they'd like it if I moved back out so they could have their own beds again."
"But they do like having you there," Bedivere protested. "And I know Lucan especially loves the babies—even when they were still waking up a few times every night, he liked having them around."
Cymbeline smiled. "And I have certainly appreciated all of the help that you've all given me, but I just think it'll be a little too crowded. It was crowded enough with just the three of you and the four of us. I'm amazed we were able to cram seven people into that apartment, even if three of them were tiny ones. I think eight would just fill it to bursting."
Bedivere laughed. "Maybe you're right. But where are you going to go? It's not like the rooms in the barracks are any bigger."
"They are, a little," Cymbeline sighed. "But no, that's not a long-term solution either. We'll have to find somewhere else. But, on the bright side, that's not something I have to worry about just yet."
"Well, if you'd like, I can watch the babies the night after he gets back," Bedivere grinned cheekily. "They can stay with me, you guys can go back to your room in the barracks without having to worry about them…"
Cymbeline shot him a glance that carried the warning of some sort of blow to follow any further discussion on that particular topic, and Bedivere grinned again. They fell silent as they continued to ride, watching the trees and brush carefully.
"How much longer do you think they'll be?" Bedivere asked finally.
"It's been dry the past few days," Cymbeline replied. "I wouldn't be surprised if they arrived tonight, but I don't think they'll be later than tomorrow."
"I think it'll be tonight," Bedivere said.
"And what makes you so sure?" Cymbeline retorted, eyes on the forest.
"That," Bedivere pointed off into the distance, and Cymbeline followed the line of his arm. A smile played across her lips when she saw the line of carts and riders heading for the fort.
"Come on," Bedivere grinned. "We'll meet up with them as we follow the line of the forest, and we can ride back with them."
"That sounds like a good plan," Cymbeline laughed.
.*.*.*.*.*.
Gawain grinned as he saw the pair of riders approaching the caravan. "Hello," he nodded as they approached.
"Good afternoon," Cymbeline said pertly. "Fancy meeting you here."
"Yes, it's totally shocking," Bedivere grinned.
"What are you two doing out here, though?" Gawain asked.
"Checking the woods for Woads," Bedivere replied. "They've been creeping closer and closer every day. We're trying to monitor their movements, but it's hard when we can't usually even tell when or where they're moving."
Gawain nodded. "We haven't seen any sign of them on the road, if that helps."
"It just means that they haven't closed in on that road yet," Cymbeline sighed. "They're already blocking the others."
"We should really send a patrol down this road to make sure they didn't close in behind you," Bedivere mused.
"For now, we should go back and give our report," Cymbeline said. "Anyways, I'm sure Arthur and the rest of you will want to be caught up on what's happened over the past year."
"Kei's filled us in on a lot, but there are still some holes," Gawain agreed.
"I'm going to ride ahead and let the fort know you're close," Bedivere said.
"Do you want me to come along?" Cymbeline asked.
"I'll be fine," Bedivere grinned. "I'll see you in a few hours."
"See you later," Cymbeline laughed as Bedivere rode off. She fell in beside Gawain, neither of them speaking. "Did you tell your family about me?" she asked.
"Some," Gawain replied. "My step-father doesn't want to hear it; he served Rome in Britain, under Arthur's father, and doesn't have very positive opinion on Woads."
Cymbeline smiled slightly. "Well, considering the way my people have harried the Romans since they arrived here, I'm not entirely sure that I even blame him."
"There's something else you should know," Gawain said slowly.
"What is it?" Cymbeline asked.
"I just don't want you to be surprised when he brings it up—because I'm sure he will, he likes to brag about it," Gawain said.
"When who brings what up?" Cymbeline asked, thoroughly confused.
"My step-father—Lamorak's father—Pellinore," Gawain explained. "You're named after your grandfather, right?"
"Yes," Cymbeline nodded. "He was the patriarch of our clan, Cunobelin. I know that Arthur's father led his knights against him—according to my uncle, Jorah, they were sent on false information provided by Caradoc, my grandfather's brother, who took over leadership of the clan when Cymbeline, along with his oldest son, was dead."
"That's essentially what Pellinore says," Gawain said. "Well, he doesn't think that Caradoc's information was false, but otherwise…"
"So, your step-father was one of the knights that went after my family," Cymbeline shrugged. "He did what he thought was right. I can't blame him for that."
"There's more," Gawain said. "Pellinore wasn't just there. According to him, he was one of the ones who killed Cymbeline—he says he stabbed him in the stomach, but the killing blow came from Uther himself. He also claims that he's the one who killed Cymbeline's oldest son. And even beyond all of that, he's proud of it. I don't doubt that he'll brag about it to you every chance he gets, especially since you have your grandfather's name."
Cymbeline swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. "I can handle it."
Gawain eyed her up. "I can try and keep him from talking about it, but he seems to do things more when people try to make him stop."
Cymbeline smiled slightly. "I spent a decade living with Romans who did nothing but bring up how inferior I was to them just because of who my family was. He'll be no different, except that he knows their names."
Gawain had his doubts, but didn't bring up the topic again.
"Galahad's met them," Cymbeline said suddenly. "The babies. They love him—and he loves them. They like Lamorak a lot too, but they really love Galahad."
Gawain laughed. "That's good," he said, "considering that Galahad's just as much a brother to me as Grav and the others."
"I know," Cymbeline grinned. "I knew you'd be happy about that."
"I'll be happy if they like me," Gawain laughed. "I'm not really sure that I think they will."
"They will," Cymbeline promised. "I'm sure of it. Just… watch out for Bella. She likes to grab hair."
.*.*.*.*.*.
The caravan entered the fort to a flurry of activity. The journey from the gates to the training grounds was lined with the ecstatic civilians cheering the return of their king and two of his beloved knights, but the crowd thinned out near the training grounds and barracks.
They were met in the training grounds by Guinevere, most of the fort's knights, Vanora, and several of her children. Arthur dismounted and swept his wife up into his arms, then bent down and picked up three-and-a-half-year-old Amr, setting the child on his hip.
Bors went straight to Vanora, pulling her and baby Jennie into a tight hug before cooing over the new baby. He gave each of the other children an equally tight, if one-armed, hug in greeting, kissing the girls on the forehead and ruffling the boys' hair. "Where's Dag?" he asked, looking around the group of his family.
"He's off with Cullwch and Dinadan," Bran replied. "I'm sure he'll be thrilled to see you when he gets back."
Bors nodded, satisfied with the explanation, then turned and waved Elyan and his father over to the cluster of his family.
"The babies will be with Olwyn and Galahad at Vanora's," Cymbeline said to Gawain. "Introduce me to your family and let's get them settled in, and then I'll take you to meet them."
Gawain smiled as he dismounted. "That sounds like a good plan." He helped her down from Gringolet, and they headed for the cart that carried his family and their belongings.
"Cymbeline!" Grav grinned, embracing her.
"It's good to see you again," Cymbeline grinned. "Welcome back."
"Thanks," Grav said. "Come on, we'll introduce you to everyone."
Cymbeline followed Grav and Gawain to where their family was unloading themselves from the wagon. "Mother," Gawain caught Morgause by the arm as she moved past them.
"Yes?" Morgause turned, her expression shifting as she saw Cymbeline. "Hello there."
"Hello," Cymbeline forced herself to smile, even though her stomach was doing flips.
"Mother, this is Cymbeline," Gawain introduced them. "Cymbeline, this is my mother, Morgause."
"It's nice to meet you, ma'am," Cymbeline curtsied stiffly.
"Likewise," Morgause's smile was clearly forced, but she seemed more comfortable than the old man who stomped up behind her.
"So, this is the Woad whore?" Pellinore spat towards Cymbeline's feet.
Cymbeline grabbed Gawain's hand as he stepped forward, his face a storm of rage. She offered Pellinore a chilly smile. "That would be correct. And you must be Lamorak's father; Pellinore, correct?"
"Yes," Pellinore stood stiffly, eyeing her warily as though she would leap forward and rip out his throat at any second.
"The one who killed my grandfather and his son?" Cymbeline's face remained cordial.
"Gladly," Pellinore snapped.
Cymbeline offered no further reply, turning her attention to the pair of copper-haired boys who stood behind Morgause. "These two," Grav grinned, pulling the boys forward and clapping a hand on each of their shoulders, "are Gaheris and Gareth, my and Gawain's baby brothers."
"Hello," Gareth smiled, his eyes friendly. "Gawain's told us a lot about you. I'm glad to meet you."
Cymbeline ignored the contortion of Pellinore's face at the words. "I'm glad to meet you too."
"Those two are Lamorak's younger brothers," Grav pointed towards the pair of dark-haired boys that had joined the small family, "Aglovale and Percival. And that's their sister, Dindrane."
"Hello," Cymbeline smiled at the wary trio; clearly Pellinore's children were more inclined towards his opinion of her than Gareth was.
After a moment of awkward silence, Cymbeline pulled on Gawain's hand, which she was still clutching, so that he took a step closer to her. "It was lovely to meet you all, really, but I need to borrow Gawain," she smiled, her voice sugary sweet. "I'd really love for him to meet his children."
Ignoring the shock on Morgause and Pellinore's face, Cymbeline pulled Gawain after her, heading out of the training ground. "You didn't tell them?" she asked as he fell into step beside her.
"It didn't come up," he admitted sheepishly. "And I wasn't necessarily eager to bring it up. I told Grav, but…"
"You were worried about how your mother would react?" Cymbeline teased.
"And Pellinore," Gawain admitted. "I had honestly planned to tell them before we got here, but it just… didn't come up."
Cymbeline laughed and pulled his arm around her shoulders, wrapping her own around his waist. They slipped through the busy streets on their way to the tavern, Gawain absorbing the environment of the fort around him. Camelot felt at the same time entirely foreign and entirely familiar to Gawain—but he was undeniably thrilled to be back. In the tavern, they found Galahad bouncing a screaming Rhience on his knee and looking completely overwhelmed.
Laughing, Cymbeline took the baby from him and rocked him in her arms; he quieted almost immediately, reaching for loose strands of her hair that had escaped her braid to frame her face. "Welcome home," she teased, looking up at Gawain.
"How have you done that with three of them for the past year?" Galahad grumbled, taking the opportunity to finish his very cold lunch.
"Only seven months," Cymbeline replied. Without a word, she passed the baby to Gawain, who accepted the bundle without protest, although he looked nervous holding it. "This is Rhience," Cymbeline brushed her hand over the pinkish-red down that covered the baby's head. "Jorah, Bedivere's father, swore up and down that he looked just like his namesake, my father, but now that I've met your family, I think he looks a bit like Gareth and Gaheris."
"You know, I think I agree," Galahad piped up around his mouthful of food.
Gawain grinned and stared down at Rhience's face. "I think I agree too," he murmured, running a finger along the baby's cheek.
"He's cuter, though," Cymbeline grinned, kissing the baby on the head. "Where are the other two?" she turned to Galahad, catching him halfway through a big bite of his food.
Galahad pointed vaguely in the direction of Vanora and Bors's addition beside the tavern and Cymbeline grinned. "I'll be back," she said to Gawain, hurrying off towards the kitchen, stopping to catch Llamrei as he wandered in that direction, redirecting the toddler towards Galahad and Gawain.
"Come on," Galahad sighed, picking Llamrei up and balancing him on his knee. "Where are you off to?" he tickled the little boy on the side, earning a pealing giggle from the toddler.
Laughing, Gawain sat down next to Galahad. "It's weird to hold a baby again," he said. "It feels like it's been forever."
"It's only been since Llamrei and Amr were born," Galahad grinned. "That's, what… three years?"
"Something like that," Gawain murmured, distracted again by the gurgling baby in his arms.
"You were always good with kids, you know," Galahad said, returning to his breakfast—which he was now unwillingly sharing with Llamrei. "Do you remember when Bran was born?"
"A little," Gawain replied. "It was the same day that Bagdemagus and Meliodas died."
"Right," Galahad nodded. "We went with Arthur to see the baby after he came back with their bodies and told everyone what had happened. You wanted to hold her."
"And Tristan made me sit down first because everyone thought I'd drop her," Gawain laughed. "I do remember."
"And then you told Bors that it was bad luck he'd had a girl first," Galahad grinned.
"Only because it was what my father had always told me," Gawain laughed.
"Well, you have a girl now, you know," Galahad said seriously. "Is it bad luck that she was born at the same time as your boys, and they're all kind of the firstborn? Or does it only count if she was the first one born?"
"I'm not sure," Gawain admitted. "But was the girl the first one anyways? Cym didn't say when she told me about them."
"I don't know," Galahad shrugged. "And I don't think that I believe that story anyways; after all, Bors ended up with, what, thirteen children? And most of them are either warriors or on their way to becoming warriors."
Gawain laughed as Cymbeline reentered, a baby on each hip. "Gawain, meet Bellicent and Lot," she grinned, sitting down on a bench across from Gawain and Galahad. "We call Bellicent 'Bella', though."
"If we're talking about who they each look like," Galahad piped up, "then Bella looks just like her father."
Gawain grinned, taking in the baby girl's soft bronze curls and wide blue eyes. "And Lot looks just like his mother," his glance shifted to the chestnut curls and brown eyes of the baby boy.
"By the way, Cymbeline, we were wondering: which one of them was the firstborn?" Galahad asked, a mischievous glint behind his green eyes.
"Lot was," she replied. "Then Bella, then Rhience. Why?"
"My father had this superstition," Gawain explained sheepishly. "He believed that if the firstborn was a girl, it was bad luck. We were remembering when Bran was born, and how I had said that to Bors when I met her."
Cymbeline laughed. "After they were born, Bedivere was teasing me that his mother always said that it was good luck for a girl to be the firstborn."
Gawain and Galahad laughed. "I suppose everyone has a different opinion," Gawain smiled.
"Maybe it depends where you are," Galahad said. "Maybe in Sarmatia, it's bad luck, but in Britain it's good luck."
"Well, either way, they're all wonderful," Cymbeline retorted.
"They are," Gawain's gaze drifted back down towards Rhience, dozing off in his arms. "They really are."