far away from the memories;

[worth_killing]

Idleness and Arthur Castus did not often mix with much success. Hours full of leisure did not warrant the former commander's dislike, but empty hours did. In Britain, there had been no such thing as a vacant minute, let alone a full hour. Though industriousness did not fill every moment of their lives, every moment was conscripted, tallied up

Comments

[blondbond]

The disc with it's Roman portrait might have interested Lara since she tended to enjoy that sort of thing, but the man's reaction to it was vaguely more interesting if not significantly so to Bond. A lost item from home them and not one of the more random gifts people seemed to be receiving.

"Hello. What do the letters mean?" James asked, thinking it would be polite to at least be curious.

[worth_killing]

"Pelagius," Arthur answered automatically, only peripherally noting that any one other than himself and the animals even frequented that stretch of beach. Such inattention to his own surroundings and personal safety only spoke of how his time on the island had completely altered his perception.

"And 'teacher'," he added, drawing his finger along the inscribed bottom arc of the circle. Finally pulling his gaze away from the item, pulling himself back to reality, Arthur considered the man. "You would probably call this Ancient Roman."

[blondbond]

"Whereas you would simply call it Roman?" Bond asked. Now that was interesting because at first glance he wouldn't have really suspected the man of being from any truly ancient place in time and history.

[worth_killing]

"Whereas I would simply call it my own," Arthur replied, his faint smile returning to warm the lines and hard angles of his face. "I made this," he said, lifting the keepsake so that the man could have a better look. "When I was a child. Not that I haven't developed any more skill as the years progressed," he added in a light, humorously depreciating tone.

[thedescent_into]

She kneels fluidly in the sand, sitting back on her haunches and pushing streaks of wild blond hair from her eyes. Squinted against the sun, she offers him a ghost of a smile. They're getting easier these days. Sometimes they even meet her eyes.

"Hello, Arthur."

[worth_killing]

"Hello, Sarah," he returned, for the space of a moment not actually looking at her. But, remembering his location, himself, her, he looked up from the disc, breaking his own reverie. His mind returned to the present, though a fond and nostalgic smile was still on his face. "How do you fare?" he asked sincerely.

[thedescent_into]

"I'm alright," she says, her smile growing under the brightness of his own, "You're looking well."

[worth_killing]

"I am well," Arthur replied, his answer easy and genuine. "The island is peaceful, my friends are well, and my lady wife has made herself at home in the rather large and luxurious bed that appeared out of thin air weeks ago." The last bit almost made him laugh, though he did show some restraint, despite his words. "And I receive good things from home," he added.

[branbach]

Bran had felt similarly, not too long ago, but the island's gift to him has him diving into veterinary books again with renewed eagerness, unsure as he still is about how much good reading will do, as opposed to watching or doing. And there is still plenty of time for idleness--more than he ever had at home--or playing the harp or bothering Will or playing with his dogs.

It's the last he's doing now (on the way to take part in the second), when he runs across Arthur, kneeling on the sand and smiling.

"What is it?"

[worth_killing]

Arthur lifted his gaze at the familiar voice, a faint smile still on his lips. "Something I made," he replied. "Many years ago." The passage of time, and the heaviness of that time, could be heard in his voice, and his eyes fell again to the rough circle. "For my teacher, Pelagius, before he left for Rome."

[branbach]

Bran peers over his shoulder at the disc. It's a bit strange to think about finding what amounts to one of Arthur's old school art projects, and the thought tempts a smile from his face. "Brilliant."

[worth_killing]

Of the many tenants of faith that Pelagius had taught Arthur when he was young, humility featured quite prominently among them. But even if he could boast the sense of self that powered Lancelot, he still would have cocked his eyebrow incredulously at the pale boy, a hint of an amused smirk curling his lips upwards.

"It is not a bad attempt," Arthur allowed, "But I think its strongest quality is that it was made with love. So, not really brilliant, though I thank you."

[thefairone]

"Now Jamie, take a look at this, and remember, that most Romans do one or the other, think or fight. Sometimes both," Isolde instructed the little boy in her arms as she approached Arthur, and Jamie made his own insight as he gurgled slightly. Perhaps he liked to believe that Romans were more like fairy tales.

She would like to let him believe that, if only for a little while longer.

[worth_killing]

A moment passed before Arthur lifted his head to acknowledge the presence of Isolde and the babe, but when his eyes fell upon them, he smiled warmly.

"Sometimes, though rarely, they try to be artistic," he added, lifting the disc so that Isolde might see the basic though carefully engraved profile. Any judgment on his efforts from years ago he left to Isolde and whatever humor had caught her that morning.

[thefairone]

She made a quiet noise in the back of her throat, passing judgement, not for the worse, but for the similiar. "I can see that, and its proper art at that. Though I see they put details in the faces, we didna do that so much. Faces aren't as important as the names."

Plus, what with all the water and earth, faces never stood a chance. "Who was he?"

[worth_killing]

Arthur himself could not see how either name or face could be more important than the other. Both were vital parts of a man's, or woman's, identity.

"He was my teacher, back home in Britain. A monk," he added, glancing up to see what Isolde's reaction to that might be. "He taught me.. everything."