in the naked light I saw | teenhood | for cywyllog

[cadcamlan]

He understands where he's going. It's not reassuring, but it's good to know that there's a purpose to his suffering; that his fate is sealed for a purpose, if not exactly as he had wanted it to be. At least knowing made it easier to bear the visions. Made it easier to take control of his mind in the day like Cywyllog had said he could.

Things can go back to normal. He can enjoy this last bit of childhood with someone who won't leave him for knowing his fate. They can relax away from curses and back into stone-skipping, into fort-building.

So he searches the shores for her. He skirts the woods. He wants to laugh with her today, to squeeze her hand and poke her ribs and tug her hair because everything was under control.

She'd be there, right?

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[cadcamlan]

"That's not good enough." He can't lose his only proper friend. He can't lose her even to this clear quiet sense of defeat. "Marry one of your father's knights. Let someone else go to Orkney. You've got plenty of sisters, haven't you?"

[cywyllog]

"This alliance is very important to my father. I will not be responsible for it falling apart." She sounds tired as she says this, but there's also a certain conviction in her voice.

"If I refuse or run away, I will dishonour my family and I will not do that."

[cadcamlan]

"Why is it important?" His thumb moves unconsciously on her hand, mind whirling. "What might be-- more important to him?"

There had to be something. There must be. If not, he supposed, there was always following her, but he didn't particularly relish the thought.

[cywyllog]

"Arthur." It's not that he's more important, it's that her father is simply efficient. He collects allies and gives his daughters marriages and children at the same time. So she'll swear to her grave.

"I don't know if he means to start a war, but father has never supported Arthur as High King."

[cadcamlan]

It does throw him a little. His fingers do tighten in her skirt.

"There is going to be a war, you know. And your King in Orkney isn't going to be the one to defeat Arthur."

[cywyllog]

She lifts her head again, brows furrowing as she looks at him. "It's not set in stone. And I expect if my father has his way it will be him who defeats Arthur, or Maelgwn."

[cadcamlan]

"It won't be."

There's no relish to the statement, although there's a tired sort of conviction.

"That isn't Arthur's fate."

[cywyllog]

Her hand tightens around his. "How do you-- How do you know?"

She has a feeling she knows the answer, as much as she doesn't want to.

[cadcamlan]

It almost makes him smile to speak the words aloud. It's a relief, after all, to know how the world ends, although he won't always feel so completely calm and content with the knowledge as he does for having freshly learned it.

"Because Arthur's fate is mine. He's... the man in my dreams."

[cywyllog]

"No." It's barely a whisper and all she can muster initially, save for staring at him in disbelief.

"Not you."

[cadcamlan]

"Have you known me not to speak truthfully to you?"

There's still no joy in his words, beyond the slight obvious relief. It isn't a fate, after all, he's entirely prepared to fight.

[cywyllog]

She doesn't want to believe it. She won't.

"What if I don't want it to be the truth?"

[cadcamlan]

He can't help being slightly taken aback. His fingers unclench from her skirt, entire body shifting away from her a hair on his heels.

He's used to feeling rejected by everyone else, but she and her sisters had always felt like the exception. There's something entirely nervous about the way he watches her face.

"...why shouldn't you? There's-- an answer to the destruction of the High King."

[cywyllog]

"I don't care about the High King. I care about you." And... well, there might be a few tears streaming down her cheeks now.

"I don't want war and I don't want you in it."

[cadcamlan]

He's not equipped to deal with the sudden surge in his heart her words bring. He's not properly trained what to do when tears spring to a princess' eyes. It sets him off-kilter all over again.

"...but there will be. Not-- now, not soon, but-- there's got to be. Your father won't stand for this forever; half the Britons are inclined to murmur against Arthur already." Tentatively, he leans closer again, not moving to touch. "And when there is, Cywyllog, no fate could keep me from taking up arms on the side of our people. That-- my life will be taken in exchange for taking Arthur's... At least we'll know mine is not wasted in vain. That-- there's a purpose to it."

[cywyllog]

"You're going to die?" Somehow, she'd missed that particular point. There's little else to do at this point but throw her arms around him in a hug. "You can't. It's not fair!"

[cadcamlan]

For all he hadn't been taught particularly well what to do with girls who turned into women, particularly ones a person cared about deeply, and for all the tears and jolts of her emotions were still throwing him off slightly, and as little as he had lived a life full of positive physical contact...

...hugging her came completely naturally. She felt right being pulled in close, cwtched tight against himself with his own face buried slightly against her shoulder. "Not for years yet, Cywyllog. We've-- we've got time. Right... right now."

[cywyllog]

She wasn't even thinking of propriety when she did it; it simply needed to be done. and now that it's happened, she feels oddly safe, calm, as though nothing can harm her.

She leans her head against his. "A few months, yes. We have that."

[cadcamlan]

"Please don't leave." Maybe it's childish to murmur against her shoulder, but it's what bubbles to his lips. "It's not-- enough."

Even visiting her over the space of the years they had left wouldn't be enough. Not when this sort of proximity felt so much more reassuring than anything else in the world.

[cywyllog]

She runs a hand soothingly over his hair.

"I have to. I can't tell my father this and... he wouldn't believe me anyway. You'd just get into trouble."

[cadcamlan]

"What would he believe, then?" There had to be something. She took his word, but surely he could get some other form of proof if it wasn't enough.

[cywyllog]

She sighs against his shoulder, hands clasping at the small of his back. "Other than your visions, what is there? He'd want something tangible."

[cadcamlan]

"Myrddin spoke to me. In my dream. And--" She won't be pleased. He hesitates to finish the thought. The old ways are revered and also feared, are held at an arm's length by so many. "...and I went to the woods."

To seek a lesser enchanter. To ask about curses and fates and speak with the guardians of the old religions that understood magic.

[cywyllog]

"Mordred..." There's a slight chastening in her tone, but mostly there's resignation. His options hadn't been great and she can't really blame him for what he'd done.

"Can they be trusted? What if they're playing some game with you?"

[cadcamlan]

"Then the fate I choose is still to live in pursuit of bringing that man to his knees." Some things, after all, were irrevocably true. Arthur had ruined his life. He was alone without her, without a purpose such as living long enough to reach Camlann.