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FIC: Familiar
Title: Familiar
Fandom: Arthurian
Rating: G
Words: 157
Disclaimer: Just borrowing from the collective, here.
Summary: An unguarded moment.
Arthur hears them before he sees them: young men laughing in the courtyard, in the early autumn evening. Even at a distance, he can make out Gawain's voice, and smiles.
They are leaning against the weathered stone of the outer wall, both flushed from recent exertion, both tousled and at ease. Gawain stands in the last slant of sunlight, his brother in his shadow -- not easy to tell which, at this distance. They're all of the same stamp, his sister's sons, small and dark and sharp-eyed.
"But that doesn't count," Gawain is saying cheerfully, "you saw that coming, you know me too well."
"No such thing."
"Oh--"
They straighten, almost as one, their dark heads inclining with the same grace. Gawain's smile breaks out afresh. The other tenses, almost imperceptibly. When he looks up, the lighthearted grin has vanished into cool, courteous reserve, and it is only then that Arthur, with a pang, recognizes his son.
Fandom: Arthurian
Rating: G
Words: 157
Disclaimer: Just borrowing from the collective, here.
Summary: An unguarded moment.
Arthur hears them before he sees them: young men laughing in the courtyard, in the early autumn evening. Even at a distance, he can make out Gawain's voice, and smiles.
They are leaning against the weathered stone of the outer wall, both flushed from recent exertion, both tousled and at ease. Gawain stands in the last slant of sunlight, his brother in his shadow -- not easy to tell which, at this distance. They're all of the same stamp, his sister's sons, small and dark and sharp-eyed.
"But that doesn't count," Gawain is saying cheerfully, "you saw that coming, you know me too well."
"No such thing."
"Oh--"
They straighten, almost as one, their dark heads inclining with the same grace. Gawain's smile breaks out afresh. The other tenses, almost imperceptibly. When he looks up, the lighthearted grin has vanished into cool, courteous reserve, and it is only then that Arthur, with a pang, recognizes his son.
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!!!!
I-- Thank you.
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I will stop gibbering and go to sleep now.
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Thanks again. That -- means an awful lot.