[Narrative/Open end]Spera in Deo, quoniam adhuc confitebor illi: salutare vultus mei, et Deus meus.
Characters: Galahad, Elaine, Open at end
Time: Night of February 15th
Location: One of the covered outside areas of the Blackstone
Content: Galahad meets Elaine. Or does he?
Warnings: Surprisingly little?
Format: Prose
Thunder had never bothered Galahad in the least. He knew that some said it was the wrath of God upon the world. His great-great-aunt, the woman who had raised him, may have believed so. He had never asked. But she had told him that so long as he led a good and honest life, keeping God and his duties at the forefront of his mind, there was nothing to fear of God's wrath.
It was why he stood outside the Blackstone, under one of the awnings and watched the sky through the pouring rain. It seemed a safe enough place to watch the dance of lightning from, at least.
A suddenly bright flash of lightning streaked overhead, followed by a powerful, shuddering boom that caused some newer models of cars to start wailing. The steady beat of rain against the awning overhead was undisturbed by its louder companion, and perhaps it was the cacophony of the storm that distracted from the slim, graceful figure that emerged from the Blackstone behind him.
He wouldn't have seen her stop, lips parted as if in surprise...and then a smile forming on her face.
"Hello Galahad."
The wailing cars made him shrink back slightly, wincing and putting a hand over his ear. He did not understand why they did that. Then again, perhaps it wasn't so unusual. A thunderclap like that would have startled horses as well, and they wouldn't have been so kind as to stay in their stalls.
How painted lines upon the ground could be stalls was beyond him, but the cars didn't move on their own, either.
He blinked at the sound of his name, turning to look at the woman. "My lady," he replied, offering a slight bow. She didn't appear to be armed, but he wasn't taking much in the way of chances in this place. It took a moment to place her. "You were one of those who came to our rescue, were you not?"
She was studying him calmly, gazing at the bright blond curls as he bowed to her slightly. Her smile didn't truly reach her eyes, but she did appear to be amused.
"It seems as if that is true." After a moment, the alarms on the cars died out as the storm continued to stir fiercely overhead. "I must admit, I am surprised that one of Arthur's knights is in this city. Quite remarkable indeed."
Galahad raised his head to look at her, slightly avoiding her eyes. It wasn't polite to look into a lady's eyes, after all. "I doubt, my lady, that you are as surprised to see me here as I was to find myself here." He shook his head slowly. "I know not the reason I was brought to this place, only that I pray I may acquit myself as needed."
Her eyes flickered with an unrecognizable emotion and she walked forward slightly to examine his face in the darkness better.
"Is it not odd that whatever magic is at work in this hell pulls in the guardian of the Grail? It seems more like a punishment than a mistake."
She was taller than him. Galahad still wasn't used to that, though many of the women here seemed to be so. Still, it made it easier not to have to look in her eyes. Her cheek and chin were closer to eye height. "I know not," he replied with a slight shrug. "But I do not believe it is punishment, nor a mistake. If I have been brought here, it is God's will that I am here."
"Really?" she murmured, her voice soft with doubt. She reached up to gently take his chin in her hands, brushing her fingers along his jaw with a touch nearly as tender as a lover's. "Is that honestly what you believe? How sure are you that He no longer sees you fit to be one of his chosen warriors? You cavort now with demons and monsters in a world plagued by nightmares. The Grail is in the possession of another - perhaps it was passed on for a reason."
Galahad reached up, taking her hand from his face and pressing it gently downward. "You believe I should be jealous that another has taken my place as Guardian?" He could hardly know that he'd been the one to choose the new guardian, after all. "I will fight as I am needed in this place, to protect those who cannot protect themselves. That is my vow as a knight of God and of the Round Table. It does not change because those who need me are of the darkness. Perhaps, then, it is more important that I be there to fight."
She seemed unruffled by his comment, that cold smile still on her lips. "Sweet, naïve Galahad. Is that honestly how you see it? That everything is done for an unknowable purpose?" She caught his wrist in her hand, her strong touch as brittle and burning cold as ice. "None of us are needed here. Have you not heard the stories? The blackest of magic lurks just outside of this city - you place your faith in a light that cannot possibly penetrate that darkness. The churches are empty, their bells make hollow noise."
She leaned further in, her whispers warmly brushing against his cheek. "What makes you strong, knight? This is not your world. It is full of ghosts and corruption. Your vow is insubstantial, ruined by time. Surely you owe your king more than that."
Galahad pulled back, looking up at her. Looking in her eyes, for all that it was rude. Quiet and steady. "My faith is my strength," he said. "My vow is my strength. Time cannot change those things."
She did not break her gaze, her eyes flickering from that stormy-gray to a brilliant green before fading back, her grip tightening on his wrist. "Time changes everything. Your faith, I'm afraid, is misplaced."
The lady had his dominant hand, which was his own fault. It put his dagger in an awkward spot, but he managed. He didn't bring it up, though. "My faith is my own. Misplaced though you may believe it."
At the sight of his dagger she laughed, a sound as clear as bells...and as sharp and deadly as broken glass. "Your faith," she said in a low voice, wrapping the magic around his mind and never tearing her eyes away from his own, "belongs to someone else. To that fool and his puppet." Her eyes narrowed. "I shall enjoy hearing you all scream."
The magic caught him and Galahad's eyes widened. He couldn't look away, but he could manage to keep his mouth shut.
Somehow, he would not give her the satisfaction.
He didn't understand what was happening as the world faded around him. She didn't, though. He wasn't exactly certain who she was, but he felt it in his soul that she was wrong. If he had ever touched true Evil, it was now.
He would never be able to describe it, but it was too much for his mind. It wasn't as bad as what happened to Thomas. No part of him wanted anything to do with her, after all. In the end, the Soulgaze broke because Galahad's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, unconscious before he hit the ground.
Time: Night of February 15th
Location: One of the covered outside areas of the Blackstone
Content: Galahad meets Elaine. Or does he?
Warnings: Surprisingly little?
Format: Prose
Thunder had never bothered Galahad in the least. He knew that some said it was the wrath of God upon the world. His great-great-aunt, the woman who had raised him, may have believed so. He had never asked. But she had told him that so long as he led a good and honest life, keeping God and his duties at the forefront of his mind, there was nothing to fear of God's wrath.
It was why he stood outside the Blackstone, under one of the awnings and watched the sky through the pouring rain. It seemed a safe enough place to watch the dance of lightning from, at least.
A suddenly bright flash of lightning streaked overhead, followed by a powerful, shuddering boom that caused some newer models of cars to start wailing. The steady beat of rain against the awning overhead was undisturbed by its louder companion, and perhaps it was the cacophony of the storm that distracted from the slim, graceful figure that emerged from the Blackstone behind him.
He wouldn't have seen her stop, lips parted as if in surprise...and then a smile forming on her face.
"Hello Galahad."
The wailing cars made him shrink back slightly, wincing and putting a hand over his ear. He did not understand why they did that. Then again, perhaps it wasn't so unusual. A thunderclap like that would have startled horses as well, and they wouldn't have been so kind as to stay in their stalls.
How painted lines upon the ground could be stalls was beyond him, but the cars didn't move on their own, either.
He blinked at the sound of his name, turning to look at the woman. "My lady," he replied, offering a slight bow. She didn't appear to be armed, but he wasn't taking much in the way of chances in this place. It took a moment to place her. "You were one of those who came to our rescue, were you not?"
She was studying him calmly, gazing at the bright blond curls as he bowed to her slightly. Her smile didn't truly reach her eyes, but she did appear to be amused.
"It seems as if that is true." After a moment, the alarms on the cars died out as the storm continued to stir fiercely overhead. "I must admit, I am surprised that one of Arthur's knights is in this city. Quite remarkable indeed."
Galahad raised his head to look at her, slightly avoiding her eyes. It wasn't polite to look into a lady's eyes, after all. "I doubt, my lady, that you are as surprised to see me here as I was to find myself here." He shook his head slowly. "I know not the reason I was brought to this place, only that I pray I may acquit myself as needed."
Her eyes flickered with an unrecognizable emotion and she walked forward slightly to examine his face in the darkness better.
"Is it not odd that whatever magic is at work in this hell pulls in the guardian of the Grail? It seems more like a punishment than a mistake."
She was taller than him. Galahad still wasn't used to that, though many of the women here seemed to be so. Still, it made it easier not to have to look in her eyes. Her cheek and chin were closer to eye height. "I know not," he replied with a slight shrug. "But I do not believe it is punishment, nor a mistake. If I have been brought here, it is God's will that I am here."
"Really?" she murmured, her voice soft with doubt. She reached up to gently take his chin in her hands, brushing her fingers along his jaw with a touch nearly as tender as a lover's. "Is that honestly what you believe? How sure are you that He no longer sees you fit to be one of his chosen warriors? You cavort now with demons and monsters in a world plagued by nightmares. The Grail is in the possession of another - perhaps it was passed on for a reason."
Galahad reached up, taking her hand from his face and pressing it gently downward. "You believe I should be jealous that another has taken my place as Guardian?" He could hardly know that he'd been the one to choose the new guardian, after all. "I will fight as I am needed in this place, to protect those who cannot protect themselves. That is my vow as a knight of God and of the Round Table. It does not change because those who need me are of the darkness. Perhaps, then, it is more important that I be there to fight."
She seemed unruffled by his comment, that cold smile still on her lips. "Sweet, naïve Galahad. Is that honestly how you see it? That everything is done for an unknowable purpose?" She caught his wrist in her hand, her strong touch as brittle and burning cold as ice. "None of us are needed here. Have you not heard the stories? The blackest of magic lurks just outside of this city - you place your faith in a light that cannot possibly penetrate that darkness. The churches are empty, their bells make hollow noise."
She leaned further in, her whispers warmly brushing against his cheek. "What makes you strong, knight? This is not your world. It is full of ghosts and corruption. Your vow is insubstantial, ruined by time. Surely you owe your king more than that."
Galahad pulled back, looking up at her. Looking in her eyes, for all that it was rude. Quiet and steady. "My faith is my strength," he said. "My vow is my strength. Time cannot change those things."
She did not break her gaze, her eyes flickering from that stormy-gray to a brilliant green before fading back, her grip tightening on his wrist. "Time changes everything. Your faith, I'm afraid, is misplaced."
The lady had his dominant hand, which was his own fault. It put his dagger in an awkward spot, but he managed. He didn't bring it up, though. "My faith is my own. Misplaced though you may believe it."
At the sight of his dagger she laughed, a sound as clear as bells...and as sharp and deadly as broken glass. "Your faith," she said in a low voice, wrapping the magic around his mind and never tearing her eyes away from his own, "belongs to someone else. To that fool and his puppet." Her eyes narrowed. "I shall enjoy hearing you all scream."
The magic caught him and Galahad's eyes widened. He couldn't look away, but he could manage to keep his mouth shut.
Somehow, he would not give her the satisfaction.
He didn't understand what was happening as the world faded around him. She didn't, though. He wasn't exactly certain who she was, but he felt it in his soul that she was wrong. If he had ever touched true Evil, it was now.
He would never be able to describe it, but it was too much for his mind. It wasn't as bad as what happened to Thomas. No part of him wanted anything to do with her, after all. In the end, the Soulgaze broke because Galahad's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, unconscious before he hit the ground.