Act 3: Dolorous Guard

Brian of the Isles

Our family ties were tight. Tight like you wouldn't believe, and even some of the biggest jerks in the group softened when they were brought into play. Family is forever… Of course given Lionel and Bors de Ganis's incident—a later story for a later time—you'd never guess it. But in the end it evened out… In the end Lionel died with hand firmly clamped in his sibling's in a show of brotherhood and forgiveness…

They say that it was not for Agravaine's sake that Gawain turned his back on his friendship with Lancelot, their unwitting killer, and went against him. For all his other brothers—say for Mordred who survived—and for his sons, yes, but not for Agravaine… They say he didn't care for Agravaine. That none of us did.

That. Is a load. Of bull.

Gawain wept for Agravaine. Just as he wept for Gareth and Gaheris and Gingalain and Lovell and Florence, he wept for Agravaine. He wept for him every bit as much as for any of the others. Anyone who says differently I will have executed. Or would if I could, rather. He wept for Agravaine… He loved his brothers so much… And his sons even more… He took after his father in that…

Past

"Lot's Knights patrol Dolorous Tower waiting for our return, dammit! We cannot go back."

"Lot... Damn the man. He made himself my enemy long ago. You and your brother remain here in Dolorous Guard, Sir Turquine, and let me do the rest. I am going to fetch my son from them. They have no choice but to give him up to me. When we return you will have some entertainment for yourselves, and in fact if all goes well I'll bring you another prize too. One of my enemy's most precious possessions to play with. A possession he will come after in force. He will pull his men from your tower to ride on Dolorous Guard, but they will fail. You will be free to return to Dolorous Tower at that time, while Lot rages against me to regain the precious thing I steal from him."

"Mmm, your 'son'… He is truly a delight."

"And he will be yours and your brother's soon enough. But spare me the details."

KAK

Lot sat in the carriage, Agravaine's head resting on his lap as the boy lay there in misery hating how sick and in pain he felt. Presumably telling himself over and over how stupid he'd been to throw himself to the dogs like that for a stranger. They were travelling back to Far Far Away. Agravaine wouldn't be able to handle the lengthy journey to Orkney in this state. He'd be lucky to make Lothian. Far Far Away, where Caradoc Briefbas was, was his son's best chance. Carados was the best there was. Agravaine shifted uncomfortably. "Agravaine," his father warned.

"It hurts," Agravaine said in an almost-whine.

"Yes, being run through twice with super-heated blades does tend to sting a bit," Lot said.

"So you're where Gareth gets it from," Agravaine grumbled in complaint. Lot smirked. Agravaine sighed, closing his eyes again and focusing on his father's soothing touch, the man's fingers gently running through his hair. Upon waking up in his father's arms with Mordred smushed between them, he'd been mortified. Until he realized how comforting it felt and decided he didn't even care how embarrassing it would have been in any other situation. He'd promptly taken to letting his father tend him like the prince he was. The stabbed, half-dead prince he was. He grimaced at that thought and winced in pain. He wasn't sure whether it was phantom or real. It was getting hard to tell. He thought phantom pain was only supposed to happen with lost limbs or appendages. He considered saying that the pain was killing him, but that probably wouldn't go over well given his current situation. Lot would be unimpressed. So would his brothers. It really did feel like it was killing him, though. He shifted more.

"Do you need salve again?" Lot asked. Agravaine thought about protesting and playing it tough, but he really didn't feel tough right now.

"Yeah," he answered a bit meekly. Gawain handed over the salves to Lot. Lot took them and pulled up Agravaine's tunic before starting to apply the pain killer to the injuries. His blood boiled to see the whip marks decorating his child's body. They'd flogged his little boy… They'd flogged his little boy! He'd had a good long rant about that, believe you him. "How long before I can go back to school?" Agravaine tentatively, and almost timidly, asked.

"Never," Lot flatly replied.

"Daaad, be reasonable!" Agravaine whined.

"I am," he dryly said. He sighed as he finished applying the salves. "Not for a couple of weeks. I want to be very, very sure you're alright and that nothing like this is going to happen again."

"But we get to go back, right?" Gawain asked hopefully.

"Were you stabbed or impaled?" Lot asked.

"He got almost crushed by a boulder," Loholt piped up. Gawain winced and gave his adopted sibling a dirty scowl.

Lot paused, blinking blankly at this. His eyes narrowed as he turned to Gawain. "Oh?" he said. "Go on, Loholt." Loholt by now, though, had realized he'd messed up and had gone pale and tight-lipped.

"I, uh… I'm walking!" Gawain said. "I barely feel it anymore."

"Tunic up, turn around," Lot ordered. There was no room for argument. Gawain winced and sighed, obeying. He lifted his tunic and turned his back to his father. Lot's silence wasn't reassuring. Nor was the low growl he heard in his father's throat.

"Um, i-is it that bad?" Gawain asked, wincing. He'd never actually looked at it.

"I'm going to have Pellinore's head on a pike," Lot icily stated. "And Ector's. And Meliot's. They failed to do their jobs. Is anyone else hiding particularly ugly injuries from me now?" Gawain grimaced, lowering his shirt. None of the others spoke up. "Is your silence a lie or the truth?" Lot asked. No one commented, not about to let him know that Mordred had almost died in quicksand. "One week before the rest of you get to go back," Lot said. "And before you do, I'm going to be having a long chat with your principal along with your mother. I've sent for her, letting her know what's happened. Given her mystic prowess she'll probably show up not long after we arrive back in Far Far Away." Considering she intended to come at all, he inwardly added. The brothers exchanged grimaces.

"What's mom going to care? All Anna will be worried about is her precious little golden boy," Agravaine complained. Said golden boy being Mordred, in case that wasn't obvious. Mordred stuck out his tongue at his sibling defiantly.

Lot rolled his eyes. "I know it doesn't always seem like it, but your mother loves you," he said. Truth be told, though, he wasn't sure how much even he believed that anymore… He wanted to, he wanted to so badly, but he just didn't know…

KAK

Lot watched as Far Far Away came back into sight. He hoped Anna would be there waiting… As the castle came into view he looked up a bit hopefully. He wasn't the only one. His sons looked too. Lot breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her waiting there with Soredamer, wringing her hands together and looking genuinely concerned. Of course she was generally pretty good at faking things—no, he wasn't alluding to intimate climaxes. Those were about the only things she couldn't fake he was more than a little proud to boast—but Lot chose to be optimistic. The carriage pulled up and her sons climbed out one by one. They approached her, looking hopeful. Lot carried a sulking Agravaine in his arms towards his wife and daughter.

Soredamer gasped, covering her mouth. "Agravaine!" she cried out, running to her father and worriedly starting to fret over her brother.

Meanwhile, Morgause's eyes scanned for Mordred, barely sparing the others a look. She bent down when he came. "Sweetie, are you alright?" Anna asked in concern.

Mordred frowned a bit, looking unimpressed with her. "I'm not your baby that's hurt, mama," he snidely replied, taking her aback. She frowned a bit at this and looked up. Her sons looked less than impressed and her husband looked outraged, scowling darkly at her like he was ready to bite off her head.

She rose and stared at Agravaine quietly. Agravaine who glared at her, hurt in his eyes. She shifted slightly and approached him. Her gaze seemed to soften into something that might have been concern, but it was hard to tell what was real and what wasn't. "Oh my darling…" she softly murmured, observing his injuries.

"Don't go out of your way to pretend you care for me, mom," Agravaine bit. "Go fawn over Mordred."

"Mordred isn't the one who's hurt," Anna replied, examining her son carefully. Soon she looked at Lot. "Who did this to him?"

Lot scowled, hating to remember the names. "Caradoc and Turquine. Of the Dolorous Tower," he said.

Anna started. "What?" she said, a hint of coldness and unease in her tone. "The giants?"

"The who?" Soredamer asked.

"We'll fill you in later," Gaheris said.

Anna looked at Agravaine. Again, the concern… With it fear this time too… "Baby?" she softly said. He looked at her warily but hopefully. That wasn't a tone he heard often. It almost sounded… genuine. Maybe it was? "Those men; did they… did they put their hands on you in… in a way that wasn't alright?" Soredamer paled at the question, not sure she wanted to know why it had been the first one to come up. Agravaine almost crumbed. It was real. The concern was real… Or if it wasn't, it was good enough.

"No," he replied, voice breaking a bit as he shook his head. Morgause nodded, gently drawing her fingers through his hair. He leaned longingly into the touch. It was so rare…

"Bring him to the parlour. I can tend him there," Anna murmured to Lot. Lot nodded. She pressed a kiss to her husband's lips and moved to usher the rest of the boys, and her daughter, inside while Lot settled Agravaine in. Truth be told, she was ecstatic her husband had sent for her to come to Far Far Away, Agravaine notwithstanding. In a heartbeat she'd leapt on the opportunity. The closer in proximity she was to her brother, after all, the better she could plan his demise…

KAK

Meanwhile, in the palace things were a bustle of activity. Morholt focused his attentions on getting Stephen acquainted with what to expect when they returned to Worcestershire, a sort of half-orientation. Bors and Petipace began the slow process of attempting to integrate Selices with the others. They couldn't give the elf too much at once. If they did, it would overwhelm him and that would do him little good. He stayed out of sight, for now, mostly with Petipace who knew how to slowly assimilate him in with others. The man had had to do it for himself alone, figure out how to reintroduce himself to society and a normal life. It had been slow and painful and agonizing and he was still doing it to this day albeit with a bit more help now. Needless to say, he didn't want that for Selices, and so he'd make sure it didn't happen. He'd had no one, so he would be damn sure Selices did. Preferably him and Bors both. He wouldn't let the elfin boy do this alone.

It was to Bors' dismay that the elfling chose to keep his riskque apparel. The councillor didn't think it was healthy or good for Selices to do so, but when confronted Selices had given an answer that had left Bors without words to say.

For years I've been forced to wear these bands and chains… I keep them now because I choose to. Not because someone makes me, but because I choose… I'm in control again… They're a reminder of that time, yes. Just as much as they're a reminder that it's over. Now I make my own decisions… I want to remember. I want to prove to them I am free. They don't govern me anymore. If I wear this, it is because I wanted to, not because they made me.

Bors couln't claim to fully understand, but he got the gist. It was a way for the elf to thumb his nose at Caradoc and Turquine, assumedly. A boast to them that they couldn't touch or control him this time. It was something of that ilk, at least. He'd let the matter go for now. More pressing things were happening. Namely a blatantly threatening letter from Lot saying he was coming back because Agravaine wouldn't make the trip home in his current state, and that he planned to tear them a new one for their failure to protect his sons. Not in those exact words, it was more tactful than that, but the unspoken f-you was plastered all over the page. Pellinore was on edge, to say the least. In fact, Bors suspected the man was subtly getting his affairs in order just in case. The councillor sighed. Maybe he should do the same, he dryly noted to himself. It wasn't going to be a fun time, when Lot came to play, so they had to brace for it.

KAK

The tension permeated the air the second Lot set foot in the castle with Morgause. Arthur locked himself quickly away in his room and wouldn't come out for anything or anyone. Gawain supposed his uncle couldn't be blamed for that. Lot and Anna's arrival was only the latest in a long line of horrible experiences for the young king today. Only a few hours prior, there had been a particularly bad scene with Lancelot that had left Arthur feeling worthless and useless; a funk he wouldn't get out for a good long time if ever. Yeah, the details were best left unexplored. It had been really, really bad. Gawain had heard and seen what that creep Lancelot had said and done to his uncle. Suffice it to say, it had led to Arthur collapsing to his knees and publically weeping, adding to the young king's humiliation, which had sparked outrage and a miniature civil war between all of them before they'd separated from one another in disgust.

Gawain frowned to himself. He was worried about Artie and something ticked at Lancelot for what he'd done. To Lance's credit, though, upon seeing Arthur's reaction to his bullying he'd backed down instantly. Gawain had never seen his friend move that quickly away from anything before. He had no doubts it was guilt, but too little too late. The damage had been done. Arthur had been left alone to sob, the mocking whispers of observers echoing all around him, which the young king had doubtless heard. Gawain grimaced, looking down and closing his eyes tightly. He should have gone to Arthur then. He didn't know why he hadn't… He would be sure to rectify that now, while his dad tore into Pellinore and co. Seriously, the shouting match between Lot and the faculty began the second the door to the war room was shut behind them. It could currently be heard clear through the castle, or so it seemed. Gawain and his siblings had awkwardly slipped away.

While his brothers and sister went off to do whatever it was they did, Gawain had gone immediately to find Arthur who, as established, wasn't going to open that door for anyone or anything. At least according to Dagonet, who'd tried to get Arthur to open to him for a good long time before giving up. Gawain, though, was even more persistent than the jester, and twice as insistent. Finally, Arthur relented with a disgusted scoff, allowing his nephew's presence in his room just to shut him up.

Gawain didn't speak. He gave Arthur space and just sat reading while Arthur brooded and hid away. Arthur was glad his… friend wasn't pressing for conversation. Maybe Gawain felt like he needed to hide too. Arthur watched him quietly. "Is Agravaine okay?" the young king finally asked.

Gawain hesitated, wincing a little. "No," he answered finally and quietly.

Arthur was silent. "Is he going to make it?" he asked, tone sounding more concerned than he'd thought it would have.

"He's… breathing and getting better, so I hope so. It's slow, though. I'm pretty sure he'll be alright. He's really agitated and restless having to lay around and do nothing while he heals, so he's kind of driving your servants crazy. Dad's low-key afraid they're going to plot Agravaine's assassination, but Merlin showed up randomly a while ago for some reason, just out of nowhere, and declared he'd babysit. Lot can't stand the guy, but Agravaine was honestly driving dad a bit crazy too so he figured it was about time my brother got a dose of his own medicine. Who better to give it than Merlin? Seriously, where does that guy go and how does he get around like he does?"

"The guy's a wizard," Arthur replied, shrugging.

"He's not that great of one," Gawain said. Though at times he had to wonder. "Hey, you going back to Worcestershire with us?"

"Yeah. Though I'm tempted not to. I'm supposed to be on my throne ruling, not travelling to Worcestershire and staying in a house most of my time. I'm the sitting king, after all," Arthur replied.

"Sorry about dad's crack about you not even being able to sit on your own throne," Gawain said. Lancelot had sure played off of it like no one's business.

Arthur was quiet, looking down. "He was right, though," he said after a moment.

"Don't let him get to you, Arthur," Gawain said. "He's just… I don't know." He had no clue why his father hated Arthur and was technically at war with him. What was going on right now, this moment of peace, was a special case because Agravaine and all, but make no mistake they were definitely still at war. Arthur nodded but didn't speak. "Hey, I'm thinking of going out hunting either today or tomorrow. You want to come along?" Gawain asked.

"Gawain, I'm really, really not in the mood to do much of anything right now," Arthur said hollowly.

Gawain's expression softened and again he inwardly cursed Lancelot. "Locking yourself away isn't going to help you, you know," he said.

Arthur shrugged, head hung. "Maybe next time," he said.

Gawain was quiet, watching him. "I'm, uh… I'm sorry… About what Lancelot did and said…" Arthur winced and didn't comment. "I guess I'll meet up with you after I get back from hunting. Then maybe we can do something together. Possibly with some of the others."

"Yeah, maybe," Arthur said with a sigh. "We'll see. Good luck hunting. Have fun. Who are you going with?"

"I'm going alone," Gawain replied.

Arthur frowned. "That doesn't seem safe," he said.

"You're taking after Safir I see," Gawain teased. "I'll be fine, don't worry. I can take care of myself." Arthur grimaced but said nothing. Just then a loud horn sounded out, foreign and unfamiliar. Arthur and Gawain both frowned and went quickly to Arthur's window, looking down. They gasped at what they saw. Riding into the courtyard came a large company of men under an unfamiliar but menacing looking flag.

"Who the heck is that?" Arthur asked.

"I-I don't know… It looks familiar. In only bad ways," Gawain replied.

A frantic knocking sounded on the door, just then. Arthur turned quickly. "Uh, who is it?" he asked.

"Arthur? Arthur it's me, Bedivere," Bedivere's urgent and slightly scared voice replied. Arthur and Gawain exchanged looks before quickly going to the door and opening it up to him.

"What's up?" Arthur asked.

"That-that flag, the-the company that just marched in… Arthur, it's-it's Brian of the Isles. I just… What if he's come for me and my brother…?" Bedivere asked.

Arthur stiffened, a chill running up his spine. He blinked then frowned. "Then he's not getting you," he firmly said. Quickly he left his room with Gawain. Bedivere followed them down worriedly.

KAK

Arthur hurried into the courtyard and came to a stop, looking back on both his left and right side. It seemed he'd gathered a following. Namely almost every student and teacher who was here from Worcestershire. He looked ahead again towards the entrance to the courtyard as the imposing company rode in and lined up against the walls. Arthur swallowed. Soon their leader came through, riding high on a massive black horse that looked ready for war. Arthur realized, about that time, that he should probably be seated on his throne instead of meeting the guy in the courtyard, but he stood his ground.

Dagonet tilted his head curiously. "Hey, that flag. Isn't that…?" he began

"Brian of the Isles," Bedivere finished for him, visibly pale. Lucan stared at the man and his company fearfully. Bedivere was quick to put himself between the approaching procession and his family and friends, planting himself right at Arthur's back. Four armored men rode in after their leader on horses.

"Who are they here for?" Dagonet asked in a whisper, eyes narrowed coldly at the man.

"No idea," Griflet replied. "Anyone else know?"

"Sir, he has a child that goes to Worcestershire Academy sir," Degore said, tone dark and icy as he glared.

"What?" Griflet asked, looking at Degore quickly.

"How do you know this?!" Bedivere demanded.

"Marshal, I overheard four of the teachers talking about it; Pellinore, Bagdemagus, Petipace, and Bors. Petipace was confronting them about it, sir! They argued then came to a neutral ground and began discussing whether there was a way they could keep Brian from taking his child away from the school again, sir," Degore replied.

"Well was there?!" Bedivere asked.

Degore was quiet, jaw twitching slightly. "Sir no sir," he finally replied. Bedivere quickly looked towards Brian again. That psycho had a kid? Which one of them, he wondered in dread. Lucan looked pale and slightly sick at the idea of it. He pitied whoever was that man's flesh and blood. Brian, meanwhile, took no small interest in scrutinizing every student standing there to meet him…

"I'll bet that sicko is loving every second of this," Dinadan bitterly said. The man's eyes roamed over each of them darkly from head to toe. "He's eying us up like sweets."

"Filth. He's filth," Lucan replied in a murmur. "Just like Caradoc and Turquine." He glanced at the king Caradoc. "Not you of course sir." Carados blinked then gave Lucan an unimpressed glare which Lucan pretended not to notice.

Soon Brian rode ahead a bit before coming to a stop. Arthur swallowed again and frowned. "Sir Brian, you sent no message you were coming," he called out.

"Perhaps your butler isn't as efficient as he should be. If he is falling short, I would be glad to take him off your hands," Brian replied.

Arthur bit back the urge to tell him to screw himself. "You aren't getting them. Any of them. Now state your business and be gone. You aren't welcome in Far Far Away," he said, and the boy king was honestly surprised at his own words and how boldly they were coming out.

"I won't be long. I've just come for my son," he said.

"Your… wait, what?" Arthur said, totally taken aback by this statement. Brian smirked coldly at him and Arthur felt himself bristling. "What son?" he asked warily.

Brian chuckled, scanning the boys. "Brandelis," he called out softly. "Come here, treasure." Arthur's eyes widened in shock, his whole body going rigid. What? Ooh… That explained more than he was comfortable with. Not least among them the way Brandelis and Agravaine had ended up stringing up Hoel and Segwarides… And why it had ended up being so disturbing and degrading…

Sir Meliot, not far from Brandelis' side, gasped, paling and looking suddenly sick to the stomach, head whipping in Bran's direction and eyes wide in horrified disbelief. "Wh-what?" he said to the boy. Bran was silent, giving him a fearful and uncertain look before quickly looking away again, hanging his head low. "Brandelis talk to me!" Meliot hissed sharply, taking his arm. Brandelis looked quickly up at him, a bit surprised at the action and the vehemence in the teacher's words. Ultimately, though, he remained silent. Meliot, pale, turned quickly to Brian of the Isles once again, eyes distraught and conflicted and confused.

KAK

Up in a high window, sitting on the sill, was Selices, pale as he looked down on the courtyard. "What is it, Selices?" Petipace asked, noticing how palid the elf was and noticing the shivering. "That-that flag," Selices said in a whisper.

Petipace frowned and came over, looking down. He grimaced upon seeing it. "That is the flag of Dolorous Guard," he said. Which meant Brian of the Isles… Dammit… The man was a close ally of Caradoc and Turquine, he knew, and every bit as perverse though in a different way than Turquine's perversion. "You're safe," he murmured reassuringly to the elf. "He won't put his hands on you. It isn't for you he's come anyway." Selices looked questioningly at Petipace. Petipace winced. "He… has a child who goes to Worcestershire. A son… One of the boys who helped save you… Selices' eyes widned in something between horror and disbelief. "Brandelis," Petipace elaborated.

Selices swallowed thickly and turned back to the window, looking nervous and afraid now for Brandelis. "Can't… can't you keep that man from taking him away…?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

Petipace was quiet. "If they could have, they would have," he finally answered.

"Brandelis can't go with him. He can't!" Selices said.

Petipace shook his head. "They've tried to stop it, at least the few teachers who know. It's been all for nothing. They're powerless," he said. "A bargain was made, once. A contract… One that can't be backed out of so easily…" Selices, pale, looked back down at the courtyard. He stared a moment then suddenly got off the sill and raced down to join the others. Petipace followed him quickly and worriedly, and the two hurried out into the group, pushing through the others to reach Brandelis. They found him hiding behind Galihoden fearfully. Selices subtly moved in front of him too, nodding at him reassuringly. Petipace stood at his back. Brandelis seemed to start to breathe a little bit easier at their added presence.

KAK

Arthur stared in dead silence at Brian. No one spoke, in fact, and they hardly moved either. "Sorry. No Brandelis here," he finally answered.

"Don't mock me, boy," Brian warned. "He's here. I know he is. And you're going to give him to me."

"There's no Brandelis here," Arthur firmly repeated, eyes narrowed.

"If you stand in my way, you'll regret it," Brian warned. "Word has reached me of your battle against Caradoc and Turquine. You know they are my allies, don't you? I am their close personal friend and am, of course, obliged to aid them in any battle against you they should choose to wager. And they in turn will do the same for me, if you catch my meaning." He looked over the men and boys at Arthur's back. "Is this your army, 'King' Arthur? This paltry little force? Is this the best you have to offer?"

"I have allies too, make no mistake," Arthur said. "There's no Brandelis here." Brandelis, meanwhile, listened in shock, lips parted in awe as Arthur, a guy he tormented regularly, protected him instead of throwing him to the dogs and actually stood his ground, expression hard and dark. He wasn't going to back down, not in this, and Bran was far from the only one here awed by the display.

"The company I've brought will raze you and yours to the ground before the rest of your knights have a chance to assemble," Brian threatened. "Don't test me, little boy."

"Try it. I dare you," Arthur replied, clenching his fists.

Brandelis shook his head, let out a shaking breath, then quickly came out of hiding despite Selices and Petipace both reaching to grab him and hold him back. "Wait!" he called, pushing quickly to the front and coming up alongside Arthur, who winced at this turn of events. Brandelis looked at the young king defeatedly. "No. Not for me, Arthur. Not for me," he said in a murmur. "Don't take this risk for me."

Arthur looked shocked, then uneasy, then concerned. "I'm not letting him take you," he whispered back.

"Then let me go to him willingly," Brandelis replied. "This? This isn't a risk you can take. Not right now. Please… I'll be okay… He's my dad."

"Bran, you can't…" Arthur began. Before he could finish, though, Bran pulled away and cautiously, warily, approached Brian. The man smiled a smile that would have perhaps seemed innocent and kind to any other eyes, but they knew better… Selices shuddered and felt his stomach churn when the man got Brandelis up in front of him on his horse. If it had been any other man, any other father, then it would have been innocence. But it wasn't any other parent. It was Brian of the Isles, and the implications of this action were far from innocent when it came to him… Helplessly they all watched as the man spirited their schoolmate away from the castle, leading all his company with him…

"Come on. Inside, all of you. We can't… we'll fix this. Somehow," Pellinore spoke up. Hesitantly, helplessly, the students began to slowly head back inside, most of them wanting to ride immediately after their comrade but unable to.

Gawain glared darkly after the man. A little fearfully as well… His heart clenched in his chest. He grimaced, wincing and looking away from the scene, swallowing and breaking into a cold sweat. He had crossed Brian before once, some years ago. He remembered it so clearly now. It was branded into his brain, a scar that would never heal.

When Lot had gotten a hold of Arthur, and he and Bran had ridden to try and bagain with Lot for the young king, Brandelis had been captured. Lot had refused to let Arthur go so they'd gone with plan B, breaking him out, which resulted in said capture. That day, in an attempt to get his father to let Bran go free, the crown prince had told his father that he owed the other boy his honor and his life. He'd been referencing his first run in with Brian… He'd gone off to hunt in the fields without anyone knowing what he was doing or really caring because hey, he could take care of himself, right? Wrong. At least not against Brian of the Isles, but back then Gawain hadn't known what he was getting himself into…