[open]

[lionbright]

Lleu is making bows.  Collecting firewood with Florence gave him the idea.  This is work his marksman brother taught him, so these are reasonably strong and balanced; maybe not for anything as big as deer, or wolf, but certainly well-made enough to kill rabbit or fowl.  He is minded of several reasons it might be a good idea to arm himself: Kay's

Comments

[littlebetter]

"You're Lleu," Gaheris says, without preamble, in the clear, abrupt Latin he's taken to using all the time now. His dark eyes with their flitting unsteady thing in them watch Lleu quietly, with interest.

[lionbright]

Gaheris, though obviously more of the same family, isn't immediately recognizable: he's at least ten years older than the cousin Lleu knows, the difference between early teens and early twenties being fairly significant, and his cousins are all fair or red-headed. And... well... Gaheris is the least memorable of his cousins.

So it's startling, and confusing, to be named and recognized, when no one else has known him. Hearing the Latin makes him realize for the first time that he hasn't been consciously speaking it, and that's bewildering too.

His hands fall quiet, with the bow resting across his knees.

"I am Lleu," he says. "Who are you?"

arrgh.. see typist's note in comments above. rats and mice!

[littlebetter]

"Gaheris. Morvydd said--said you'd come."

it's okay! *hugs* it's definitely okay.

[lionbright]

"Gaheris!"

A breathless little laugh escapes him. One hand lies open on the bow, relaxed; the other still holds the little knife.

"But you're--forgive me, you're older. You are a boy, younger than me, back in my father's court."

[littlebetter]

He looks shy suddenly. "Aye, I--it's been a while since I was there."

[lionbright]

Lleu frowns fleetingly. He's been trying to work out the timeline, and the fortuitous AU appearance of Medraut has equipped him with a convenient, if rather upsetting, knowledge of his own battle of Camlan. It doesn't include Gaheris growing up.

He has the tact to realize he'd better not say so.

"Do you stay with Gwalchmei?"

[littlebetter]

"No. --Morvydd. I don't--it's no good."

[lionbright]

Lleu laughs again. "Sorry. If I were one of four I would probably move out as well. And all their wives and children, too, Florence said."

and the damn house elf. bleah.

[littlebetter]

"Not mine," abrupt again. And then he relaxes a tiny bit, and looks shame-faced at the abruptness. "Aye. Ragnelle, Lyonors, and Laurel. And Florence. But those--those boys, they don't, I don't know where they are."

[lionbright]

"Which boys?"

He can tell there's something not quite right here, but doesn't like to change his manner, which was easy to start with. It doesn't quite seem fair.

[littlebetter]

"They're--they're Mordred's." He makes a face. "As old as--too old."

[lionbright]

"What do you mean? Oh, I see--older than you when you knew them. It is limitlessly confusing."

[littlebetter]

"Makes me feel mad," he agrees, relieved that Lleu understands (people tend to refuse to understand him).

[lionbright]

"I know. I tried so hard to work it out, when I came, to line everything up. But nothing does."

He laughs.

"Especially not me."

[littlebetter]

"No use worrying. If all those wise women can't make sense of it--"

(oh look is that a smile?)

[lionbright]

"My God! I don't know any of their wives. I've never heard a single one of those names! I'd best steer clear."

He is rather selfishly glad to discover, bit by bit, that he's not the ONLY ONE who doesn't exist across all possible timelines.