[Intro] And then the sun shone in Dover, at noon

[firstbornoflot]

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.

Comments

[thenotsofair]

Celegorm is...grinning. Like a ridiculous, ridiculous thing, flopped tiredly on the couch that is unquestionably too short for him, beaming at the ceiling. It was a good night.

The couch is, however, directly in the way of the main pathway through the main room, mostly because Cleeg is lazy and wants to eat his lunch flat on his back.

[firstbornoflot]

That -- is a tall man. A very tall man. Gawain can't help but stare a little at the giant in the --- by the hearth.

And is a bit mesmerized, and thus not moving, just, well, blinking at him unhelpfully.

[thenotsofair]

Tyelko notices the staring, and sits up, half turning, smile fading a little since - well, strangers. It's different. "--hello?"

There is, of course, a lingering bit of a glow. He can't help that part.

[firstbornoflot]

"Good day," he replies, and inclines his head. "Forgive me for interrupting your meal."

[thenotsofair]

He grins, a little, shakes his head. "Don't worry about it. Have you been standing there a while?"

[firstbornoflot]

Gawain smiles a little. "Not so very long." And then, bluntly, "I have to ask - are you one of those gentle giants from the fables of old?"

[thenotsofair]

Tyelko blinks, and then can't help a slightly startled laugh. "--no. I'm not really a gentle anything." He rolls his shoulders, and gets to his feet. "My family runs tall."

[firstbornoflot]

"So I see," Gawain replies, and he's really looking up at Celegorm. "My family runs short," he replies, "but our worth is not in question, all the same."

At least, as far as fighting is concerned. He's still taller than most of his brothers, but Gawain is by no means a tall man.

[thenotsofair]

Cleeg blinks a little. "I wouldn't have said it was." His gaze is somewhat critical. "You look to me like you know fighting."

That kind of thing, Cleeg recognizes.

[firstbornoflot]

Probably the fourth best in Britain, after Tristan, Lamorak and Lancelot - though everyone's the best at one point or another in Malory, so it's heart to tell.

"I am a sworn Knight of the Round Table," he replies, seriously. "I have fought many a good knight and a tourney, many a battle."

[thenotsofair]

Celegorm doesn't seem terribly impressed, but that's probably because he doesn't know what it means.

He does, however, move the couch. "Is that why you're here?"

[firstbornoflot]

Gawain observes the moving of the couch, he's not exactly sure what's going on, but. This place is strange in just about every way - what is with these lights that seem powered by magic?

"-- I don't -- know why I'm here." Earnestly, actually.

[thenotsofair]

Celegorm looks up, and he actually seems - sympathetic. "I meant, did you die?"

[firstbornoflot]

Gawain nods once. "-- at the battle of Dover." He fully expects this to make sense to the other -- man -- giant -- fae -- whatever.

[thenotsofair]

It doesn't! But he doesn't need to know where, he sympathizes. He knows coming from his own death was - awkward. Ish. And grimaces. "I'm sorry." And appraises Gawain, seeming suddenly thoughtful, but that doesn't keep him from adding, "I know the feeling."

[firstbornoflot]

Gawain nods, is quiet a moment. "If you fell in your quest, and it was an honorable death, then --" he bows, is very polite.

"I am Sir Gawain, of Orkney, in the service of Arthur Pendragon, king of Britain."