[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.

[thenotsofair]

Celegorm's mouth spasms slightly. Honorable death. Died in your quest. Ahahahaha. If only whoever this is knew. Except how it's completely better that he doesn't.

"Tyelkormo Turcafinwe," he offers, and adds, after a moment, "son of Feanaro Curufinwe."

[firstbornoflot]

The names are so -- very foreign, that Gawain blinks once. "-- Well met, then, my lord Tyelkormo," he replies - there's something about Celegorm's bearing that tells him he is not lowborn, despite his earlier -- well. Gawain's done this before, and he's a prince.

"And were you in the service of a king, then?"

[thenotsofair]

"...more or less," he says, after a moment. It's complicated. Technically Fingon, but... or Finrod. Yeah, that ended well. "It's a bit more complicated than that."

[firstbornoflot]

Gawain can relate. After all, his brother could have been king, if Arthur and Medraut hadn't both been so stupidly head-headed.

"It ever is," he replies, nodding.

[thenotsofair]

Tyelko looks relieved that Gawain understands. "Have you...found anyone you know here?"

[firstbornoflot]

"A fellow Knight of Camelot, long lost," he replies. I helped kill his brother, yay for angst. Then again, he wasn't planning on Medraut planting a knife in Lamorak's back - but it was hard to think straight, thinking Lamorak might have ravished their mother.

"Is it a common situation to face?"

[thenotsofair]

Tyelko hesitates. "It seems to - depend. Most of my family is here. Some people don't know anyone."

[firstbornoflot]

Erngh, family. Such a complex thing to think of. But Do Want. Even if it's angst-inducing.

"--- is that -- I suppose it is complex," he manages to blurt.

Because oh dear. His mother. What if she were here? >.> And his brother, yes, the one he's meeting downthread. Oh dear.

[thenotsofair]

Tyelko grimaces, and mutters something like 'you have no idea.' "It's - complex is a good way of putting it. You'll probably manage all right, though." Killed a lot of people? Because that's the main problem.

[firstbornoflot]

Yeah, lots of people, is there a problem with that? Casualty of war, seriously. The only spots on his conscience are the letter he sent to Lancelot, the fact that he wasn't there to protect Gaheris, Gareth and Agravaine, and the lady he killed when he was young and brash.

"I suppose," he replies, though he hopes to Dear God that he doesn't have to deal with his mother. Or his father. Or -- yeah. Nevermind.

[thenotsofair]

Tyelko's glance at him is sympathetic. "Do you need anything?" he asks, a little more moderately. "We've all been where you are."

[firstbornoflot]

Gawain looks up at the man (he hasn't noticed the ears yet) - "Might you tell me where we are, then, and of the nature of this place, pray?"

[thenotsofair]

..."Oh," Tyelko says, grimacing a little. "Not very precisely. I haven't asked too many questions. It's called the Mansion, not that that tells you much."

[firstbornoflot]

"So I've been told," Gawain replies. "The Lord and the Devil have a twisted sense of humor."

[thenotsofair]

"Someone does," Tyelko says under his breath, and glances at Gawain. "Do you want something to drink?"