#eynsavalow

his heart had stopped beating completely, and then restarted with a new rhythm. which was a ridiculous thing to think and he certainly wasn't going to say it out loud. but it felt true, upon looking at the man in front of him. galahad. the soul was the same, he knew that down to the smallest atom of his being. ' unless you tell me you've taken another vow of chastity, galahad, i'm going to kiss you. '

  Eva couldn’t help but study the movements of the red haired water dweller closely. Her guardian would tell her it was rude to stare; however he wasn’t around to lecture her. How was one to learn about the world and its many inhabitants if one didn’t look? She called it studying and learning with her eyes. Her intentions weren’t rude but out of mere curiosity and a thirst for knowledge.   

  The other appeared so comfortable and natural in the water and Eva was jealous yet content in knowing one could move in water so effortlessly. Perhaps this stranger could teach her or at least bestow her some insights on how to be one with the water.

❝ It’s always a proper date if you’re in the right company. ❞ A light-hearted jest with a kernel of truth. Funny, the sentiment calls to mind a long forgotten memory. Traipsing through farmland, trailing behind his parents, his father lifting his mother over vernal pools but never slowing his stride, ecstatic about the copse of ancient yew on the other side of the pasture. His mother, his ever so glamorous and polished mother, braving cow paddy and nettle for the pleasure of an afternoon with them. Sitting across from Goro on the couch while he valiantly fought a nasty head cold was a MUCH LESS involved outing than taking tree core samples in rural Scotland. Perfectly domestic, even.

Goro IS the right company. It is remarkable how KEENLY he feels that longing for companionship now that he has found him. Like a tree turning its leaves to feel the sun, it’s natural, instinctual. A bit awkward but not at all unpleasant. He wants to know him, wants to traipse after him in pursuit of the things that bring him joy. It’s strange, that GHOST OF KNOWING, like the man next to him is both a total stranger and as familiar as his childhood home. He has SO MANY questions to ask.

Caerwyn had wanted to see him again, so he had come, despite the warning. Armed with the familiar sick day creature comforts, two boxes of tea, a packet of Beechams, a bargain bin copy of The Lair of the White Worm (he had gotten to the till before he began to wonder if it was TOO topical), lozenges, tissues and ice lollies. He’d debated cooking, thought of bringing along the ingredients of a light chicken in orzo soup. BUT, he hadn’t asked about dietary restrictions and there was something STRANGELY INTIMATE about asking to use someone’s kitchen. Another day. They have time. All he wants now is to see Goro WELL. To know HIM, then to delve into the life they once lead, the delicate dance of courtship threading through it all the while.

❝ Hurts. ❞ He says dismissively. His head hurts. Not much more to say on that front. It still stings a little from the salve but he is doing his best to put up a BRAVE FRONT. It is the least he can do for Galahad. He feels a bit more lucid now. Nothing else has returned to him but the world and its complexities seem to come into focus, even if the face of his LOVER will not. He cannot see HIM but he can see Galahad in front of him, note his embarrassed blush and the nervousness of his manner, feel the instinct to engage in pleasant chatter.

❝ Why not? You’re a bonny man. ❞ Caerwyn attempts an impression of his father’s Alt Clud accent on that compliment, for Galahad’s amusement. His new friend has seemed so solemn since they became acquainted, or reacquainted. He’d like to make him smile, if he could. ❝ There is no such thing as TOO clever in a woman, perhaps I’m biased towards them, not being very clever myself. Are you not a man of means, is that why she laughed at you? ❞

Galahad DESERVES someone. He can say that for certain. He has been so DUTIFUL and so GENTLE and so CARING. He would make a good husband, a good father. The sort of man Caerwyn could see himself falling in love with, if he didn’t already have a man like that. He knows that about his lover, that he’s like Galahad, SO GENTLE and PATIENT with him when others have not been. A precious and rare sort. Yes, Galahad is like HIS LOVER and Elaine is a FOOL for laughing at him, he decides.

she had been riding for hours, pushing her horse too hard in her desperation. but she had to be there, she had to see. the news had reached orkney too late, she could feel it. gwyar had asked to come, but she had left her daughter at the castle. ragnelle was already on the verge of tears when she arrived at the tent on the edge of the silent battlefield. ' blancefleur, ' the other queen was the first living person ragnelle found. ' did he survive? '

he had nearly resigned himself to this marriage. he hadn't slept since he'd agreed to it, and, yes, he'd been at least slightly drunk more often than not. ' percy, you know the supernatural, yeah? the fey and angels and what have you. ' was he a little more than slighty drunk at this exact moment? yes. ' am i about to marry some dark fey creature that will suck out my soul when we retire to our marriage bed? '

she could forgive arthur. after all, he was just the product, the result of uther's underhanded trickery. but merlin? well, she'd just been a girl at the time, but she had seen her father's face ripple over uther's. she'd seen the magic, and there were few in number who could accomplish such a feat. she didn't have proof. ' merlin, you know my sister hates you. she's meant to be visiting today. '