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Entry tags:
WC: Sinners Cleansed
Fandom: Warlord Chronicles
Pairing: Galahad/Derfel
Warnings: Derfel POV
Rating: PG
Summary: Derfel will record all but this for Igraine.
"Galahad?"
His smile welcomed me. I put my hand on his shoulder, squeezing briefly, as I joined him at the wall, looking down at the bodies of the Franks that lay there twisted together after the last attack. It wouldn't be long, I knew, and I muttered a quick prayer to Bel that somehow we would make it through -- if nobody else, then we two. If not me, then him alone. Britain needed Galahad, I felt, I knew. Britain needed men like Galahad more than she needed men like me, and infinitely more than she needed men like Lancelot.
"I wish I could fight beside Arthur again before I die," Galahad said, quietly, echoing the thought that had been in the back of my mind since I reached Armorica -- maybe since I'd left Dumnonia. I didn't say that, though. I let the silence remain for a moment, and then, quietly, spoke my mind, with the same kind of clumsy grace I'd had when courting Lunete.
"I wish I could fight beside Arthur again. I was proud to fight with him. But I'm prouder still to die beside you."
Galahad smiled. Lancelot's smiles made me feel queasy, but Galahad's made me feel at peace, for all that the two of them had their similarities. I finally dropped my hand from my shoulder, but Galahad took my hand in his and squeezed before letting me put some space between us. "Thank you, Derfel."
"We'll survive," I said, after a moment of silence.
He took a moment to answer, and his voice was quiet when he did. "With a man like you in the shield wall, I know we will."
He kissed me, then. Not a brotherly kiss, nor the kiss a king might bestow as a sign of favour. Nor was it a hard kiss, a warrior's kiss. It was gentle, and needy, and generous in that way Galahad had. God help me, but I felt as a sinner feels when cleansed of sin. I didn't push him away, and when he drew back, he smiled at me -- almost dreamily.
This record, I will not give to Igraine to be translated. That kiss is a secret between Galahad and I, and I pray that when we meet in heaven we will be as close as we ever were on those nights in Ynys Trebes.
Pairing: Galahad/Derfel
Warnings: Derfel POV
Rating: PG
Summary: Derfel will record all but this for Igraine.
"Galahad?"
His smile welcomed me. I put my hand on his shoulder, squeezing briefly, as I joined him at the wall, looking down at the bodies of the Franks that lay there twisted together after the last attack. It wouldn't be long, I knew, and I muttered a quick prayer to Bel that somehow we would make it through -- if nobody else, then we two. If not me, then him alone. Britain needed Galahad, I felt, I knew. Britain needed men like Galahad more than she needed men like me, and infinitely more than she needed men like Lancelot.
"I wish I could fight beside Arthur again before I die," Galahad said, quietly, echoing the thought that had been in the back of my mind since I reached Armorica -- maybe since I'd left Dumnonia. I didn't say that, though. I let the silence remain for a moment, and then, quietly, spoke my mind, with the same kind of clumsy grace I'd had when courting Lunete.
"I wish I could fight beside Arthur again. I was proud to fight with him. But I'm prouder still to die beside you."
Galahad smiled. Lancelot's smiles made me feel queasy, but Galahad's made me feel at peace, for all that the two of them had their similarities. I finally dropped my hand from my shoulder, but Galahad took my hand in his and squeezed before letting me put some space between us. "Thank you, Derfel."
"We'll survive," I said, after a moment of silence.
He took a moment to answer, and his voice was quiet when he did. "With a man like you in the shield wall, I know we will."
He kissed me, then. Not a brotherly kiss, nor the kiss a king might bestow as a sign of favour. Nor was it a hard kiss, a warrior's kiss. It was gentle, and needy, and generous in that way Galahad had. God help me, but I felt as a sinner feels when cleansed of sin. I didn't push him away, and when he drew back, he smiled at me -- almost dreamily.
This record, I will not give to Igraine to be translated. That kiss is a secret between Galahad and I, and I pray that when we meet in heaven we will be as close as we ever were on those nights in Ynys Trebes.