The words flow from his trembling hand, blood smears onto the shaking page as the battle slowly dies out. The Channel's waters are calm as he writes his dying words.( can you really spoil Arthurian Legend? )
Very soon, Sebastian is going hunting for that very half-brother. Very, very soon. At the moment, though, he can be found once Gawain is marginally more settled, sitting inside and sipping black coffee so strong the smell has extended outside through the open door. Just the way he likes it.
His eyes are eerily green, too bright, should they be the first thing Gawain glimpses. The rest of him is perfectly normal, slender, handsome (almost pretty), young.
Gawain says that no-one hurts his brother. Even one as problematic as Medraut. Even one as problematic as Agravaine. The knight looks and feels tired, certainly, and it is the odd smell that draws him.
He'll bow to the young man, thinking he might be perhaps a senior squire. "Good day, lad," he offers, amiably enough.
Gawain has never had any problems with youngsters, on the contrary.
Sebastian half turns, seeming faintly amused. "I doubt I'm much younger than you," he murmurs, though his face is youthful in beauty, and there are the eyes. "But it's an easy mistake. Good afternoon."
Sebastian stands, fluidly, and nods. "Of course. Not far. You probably just missed them."
He seems to be watching Gawain with unusual intensity, but that may just be because that's how he's looking at everyone these days. An effect of his tension.
"Mayhap," he concedes. "I've new come, and this place is one of wonder." He bows, though, still very polite and courteous, but barely a bob, because of course, he only bows to his betters.
"But we have not been introduced. I am Sir Gawain."
"Sebastian," he says, simply - after all, there is nothing more, though his eyes narrow slightly. Sir. The only ones he's met who call themselves that... "You wouldn't happen to be from Camelot, would you?"
"No, not from Camelot," he replies, and there's audible evidence: his accent is different from Guinevere's, his r's are rolled, for example. To the modern ear, he might sound Scottish.
"I am the son of King Lot of Orkney, though I serve good King Arthur, and have taken what oaths he demands of me."
As well as his queen, but that is obvious to Gawain.
Sebastian actually laughs. "No, hardly. He isn't here, if you mean the one I think. Or if he is, he's been well out of sight." He slips out the door. "The stables are this way."
His eyes are eerily green, too bright, should they be the first thing Gawain glimpses. The rest of him is perfectly normal, slender, handsome (almost pretty), young.
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He'll bow to the young man, thinking he might be perhaps a senior squire. "Good day, lad," he offers, amiably enough.
Gawain has never had any problems with youngsters, on the contrary.
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"And you," he replies. "A moment of your time, please - I have a goodly horse in need of place to rest. Pray tell me where the stables are?"
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He seems to be watching Gawain with unusual intensity, but that may just be because that's how he's looking at everyone these days. An effect of his tension.
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"But we have not been introduced. I am Sir Gawain."
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"I am the son of King Lot of Orkney, though I serve good King Arthur, and have taken what oaths he demands of me."
As well as his queen, but that is obvious to Gawain.
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And his wife?
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"-- certainly you jest -- are you in the service of the King, then?" --- is he here?
He's not thinking that Guinevere might be around - since her chances of dying are... well... not so high. His brother certainly wouldn't --
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She's not supposed to be dead.
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