odds and bits
Florian, Montmollin, ancient
Theirs is an ancient house, the baron tells his son; who asks, with that mild look of his, if that's why the roof keeps leaking.
Zara/Florian, answer
Zara sleeps restlessly. She beds down on the floor, saying sullenly that she will only keep him awake else. When Florian wakes in the night he finds she's lost the pillow, her thin body curled like a question mark against the pale floorboards. He has no answer.
* * *
frost
The winter is bitter; frost forms on the stone floors at night. Gaheris, always a restless sleeper, wakes with blue fingers. When Mordred catches sight of them he swears enough to heat the air. "You fool. Come in with me."
As they did when they were children, he means, curled back to front in the deep bed. Gaheris sees the sense of it. But somehow it's different now, with only the two of them, himself thin and chilled through, his brother lean and strong and warm. He can't seem to stop shivering, until Mordred's hands move gently to quiet him.
frighten
Mordred is older, taller, stronger, quicker, more of everything than Gaheris is, though they're more alike than not. It makes it easiest to follow his lead, even when Mordred catches his arms in a grip so hard that it frightens him, and pulls him into an embrace far too close.
place
Mordred's place is at Gawain's side, his right hand. It always has been, since before Gaheris was born, and none of them are able to take it from him. But Mordred, when they're all together, makes a place for Gaheris in turn, a niche by the fire, a warm slot in the great bed, in the circle of his arm. Gaheris feels he almost fits there. Close enough.
* * *
Agravain, rocky
Clar calls Gawain the sun, Mordred the east wind. Agravain doesn't know what she'd call him, unless it's the rocky shore itself, hard, rough and lonely.
Mordred, Percy, roam
In the evenings, Percy roams the western perimeter, looking out toward the mountains, just looking. One night Mordred comes upon him, startling him: Mordred the quick, the secretive, with that swift laugh that might be with you or at you, whose questions are all challenges. "Homesick?"
"Sometimes," Percy admits.
A hand reaches up to his shoulder. "So am I."
Clar, Mordred, growing
He's growing up, and Clarissant is growing quiet. At six, she seldom speaks and never cries. On the eve of his departure with Gawain, she clings to him like a burr, and under his mother's eye he dares not push her away.
Gaheris/Lynet, enter
Lynet slaps a wayward hand. "Jesu! give me peace, importunate man!"
"Didst bid me enter."
"Out on you!"
Gaheris laughs, winds his hands in her hair instead.
Mordred/Percy, collect
Months follow months. Percivale's seat collects dust, as if he'd never been there. Once Mordred finds himself alone in the echoing hall, and on an impulse brushes it clean; but his hands come away filthy, and he leaves quickly, ashamed.
* * *
Linden, Lady Tamarind, emptiest
Tamarind's eyes are the emptiest he has ever seen, except the ones that look back at him out of the darkened window of his room, at night.
Zara, Mordred, seed, king
She meets him in the tavern. Because he speaks well of Florian she decides not to hate him, and because he mocks everyone else, because he tosses back her insults and kisses her as if he doesn't care, she lets him love her. He combs the grass seeds out of the tangles of her hair, and tells her stories of his own country, that cool green island. They laugh together over the tragic love stories, but when he comes to tell her the death of the king, she says, "Good riddance," and he shoves her so hard she nearly falls out of bed. "What would you know?" he says, and snatches up his clothes and leaves her.
Theirs is an ancient house, the baron tells his son; who asks, with that mild look of his, if that's why the roof keeps leaking.
Zara/Florian, answer
Zara sleeps restlessly. She beds down on the floor, saying sullenly that she will only keep him awake else. When Florian wakes in the night he finds she's lost the pillow, her thin body curled like a question mark against the pale floorboards. He has no answer.
* * *
frost
The winter is bitter; frost forms on the stone floors at night. Gaheris, always a restless sleeper, wakes with blue fingers. When Mordred catches sight of them he swears enough to heat the air. "You fool. Come in with me."
As they did when they were children, he means, curled back to front in the deep bed. Gaheris sees the sense of it. But somehow it's different now, with only the two of them, himself thin and chilled through, his brother lean and strong and warm. He can't seem to stop shivering, until Mordred's hands move gently to quiet him.
frighten
Mordred is older, taller, stronger, quicker, more of everything than Gaheris is, though they're more alike than not. It makes it easiest to follow his lead, even when Mordred catches his arms in a grip so hard that it frightens him, and pulls him into an embrace far too close.
place
Mordred's place is at Gawain's side, his right hand. It always has been, since before Gaheris was born, and none of them are able to take it from him. But Mordred, when they're all together, makes a place for Gaheris in turn, a niche by the fire, a warm slot in the great bed, in the circle of his arm. Gaheris feels he almost fits there. Close enough.
* * *
Agravain, rocky
Clar calls Gawain the sun, Mordred the east wind. Agravain doesn't know what she'd call him, unless it's the rocky shore itself, hard, rough and lonely.
Mordred, Percy, roam
In the evenings, Percy roams the western perimeter, looking out toward the mountains, just looking. One night Mordred comes upon him, startling him: Mordred the quick, the secretive, with that swift laugh that might be with you or at you, whose questions are all challenges. "Homesick?"
"Sometimes," Percy admits.
A hand reaches up to his shoulder. "So am I."
Clar, Mordred, growing
He's growing up, and Clarissant is growing quiet. At six, she seldom speaks and never cries. On the eve of his departure with Gawain, she clings to him like a burr, and under his mother's eye he dares not push her away.
Gaheris/Lynet, enter
Lynet slaps a wayward hand. "Jesu! give me peace, importunate man!"
"Didst bid me enter."
"Out on you!"
Gaheris laughs, winds his hands in her hair instead.
Mordred/Percy, collect
Months follow months. Percivale's seat collects dust, as if he'd never been there. Once Mordred finds himself alone in the echoing hall, and on an impulse brushes it clean; but his hands come away filthy, and he leaves quickly, ashamed.
* * *
Linden, Lady Tamarind, emptiest
Tamarind's eyes are the emptiest he has ever seen, except the ones that look back at him out of the darkened window of his room, at night.
Zara, Mordred, seed, king
She meets him in the tavern. Because he speaks well of Florian she decides not to hate him, and because he mocks everyone else, because he tosses back her insults and kisses her as if he doesn't care, she lets him love her. He combs the grass seeds out of the tangles of her hair, and tells her stories of his own country, that cool green island. They laugh together over the tragic love stories, but when he comes to tell her the death of the king, she says, "Good riddance," and he shoves her so hard she nearly falls out of bed. "What would you know?" he says, and snatches up his clothes and leaves her.