Still Traumatised!

[littlebetter]

One problem of Mordred's is fixed, but not the other. Gaheris has taken to hiding outside, deep in the forest, because something in it stills his fear and makes it a little easier, just as when it first happened the woods succoured him and shielded him and pushed away his knowledge for a while; he frequently doesn't come back to the house at night

Comments

[morvydd]

She's come out after plants, the way Clar will do; she has a basket half-full, and she stops between two trees, watching him with a sort of clinical appraisal, as Clar might.

After a moment, in a mild, speaking-to-beasts tone, she says, "Well, coz."

[littlebetter]

His eyes flicker, and it takes him a very long moment to be sure she isn't Clar. "Hello," guardedly.

[morvydd]

She searches his face. "Dost know me?"

[littlebetter]

"Nay. You are like my sister."

[morvydd]

"Many thanks," dryly. "Gareth, is it?"

[littlebetter]

"Gaheris."

[morvydd]

"Gaheris, then. What ails you?"

[littlebetter]

Something about her makes it something of a struggle to stay in the Latin. "I have spilled blood."

[morvydd]

Her expression alters a little. "Ay, Sir Gaheris, and will again." She eases the basket off her arm, and leans over to set it down.

[littlebetter]

"Ahh," a soft sound of a painful knowledge and a strange acceptance.

[morvydd]

Morvydd picks her way across the fallen leaves and brush, and kneels in front of him. Close to, she resembles her own mother more than his, and silver glints in her ears. She puts out a hand to touch his forehead.

[littlebetter]

He bends to the touch. "Will I remember?"

[morvydd]

"That lies with thee." She smooths his tangled hair back, studying him.

[littlebetter]

The old question. He's silent.

"I must," at long last.

[morvydd]

"'Tis memory makes us what we are," she says, "else we should live from day to day like the beasts. And thou, coz, art unhappy like all thy brothers."

[littlebetter]

"Are they all unhappy?"