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The tale was old as time itself and as deep as the river that runs through Camelot. A story that’s only been told between close friends around a campfire. Gawain watched his village be burnt to the ground and people running for their lives as monsters from the neighbouring kingdom strike them down. He was carried away to the edge of the village where his father left him alone, begging him to run but Gawain failed to listen.
When the fire settled and the world became quiet, someone came out from the ashes. A man in golden armour and a sword that could only be wielded by the nobility. A sword fit for a king. Gawain could only watch as King Arthur came to stand before him, staring down for only a moment before kneeling. His sword was buried a bit into the dirt so as to allow the king to stand once he finished.
A metal hand places itself on top of Gawain’s head, forcing his head up a bit to look the King in the face. Though King Arthur’s mask kept Gawain from seeing what the true king looks like.
(It was something that clung to him for years after, about why no one have seen his face. It makes sense in the present day when Gawain walks among the townsfolk and watches as King Sonic plays with the children while Lancelot stands guard nearby. For the eyes are the window to the soul and King Arthur did not have a soul for him to see.)
“You’re Majesty!” Merlin had shouted while waving the king back towards him. “The enemy is heading deeper into Camelot.”
The King stood to his full height, drawing his sword from the dirt. “Alright, lead the way, Merlin.” For whatever reason, Arthur had stopped – even for just a moment – and he pulls a silver necklace from his neck and held it towards Gawain. “For my dear nephew and for the hardship that might come going forth.” And with those words spoken, it was the last Gawain saw of this version of Arthur.
That was an old tale that Gawain holds dear and rarely speaks about to people. Most would only speak of the cruelty that Arthur had put upon Camelot while others refused to even acknowledge their old king. Gawain had a hard time even thinking those thoughts; he knows the other knights did as well. Because Arthur was kind to them, treating them as equals…maybe even family as a bunch of knights could be.
King Arthur was there when Lancelot first join his side; pulling from the depths of King Claudin’s grasp. Lancelot was a wreck and barely knew how to be a person but yet King Arthur was the one at his door every night and waits to be let in. Some nights King Arthur would be found inside Lancelot’s room while other times still sitting outside.
When Percival joined, she didn’t feel like she’s might be a knight of the round table. King Arthur had spoken to her for hours the night that she decided to leave. Gawain remembers standing in the hallway and just listening to his king’s words. Arthur always tells Percival how proud of her whenever they return back to camp or the castle.
The King even accepted Lamorak even though he only knew the hawk through his sister. Arthur was the one to help with Percival’s house and made sure the siblings can be together without problems. Bringing a housewarming present, giving Lamorak a job inside of the castle, and even helping Lamorak become a knight.
Then Galahad; sweet and loveable Galahad. Gawain remembers Lancelot fleeing from the castle and returning from visiting his mother. Arthur was waiting down by the bridge and just held the knight, letting Lancelot speak all his problems and asking what to do next. The King was there for the baby’s first steps and cheered him on when Galahad fought in his first real battle. Arthur was the one the pushed Galahad to befriend Lamorak.
And Gawain…
Gawain was brought into the castle after the death of his father and the burning of his village. Arthur kept him close and treated him like a nephew; treating him as if he was just as important as the king himself. Giving him a life that Gawain would be proud of. He climbed through the ranks and became a knight as worthy as King Arthur himself.
And…
And then…
He didn’t want to believe that King Arthur never existed in the first place, never wanted to believe that his king became a monster. Gawain clung to the way Arthur would pat his head, giving praise for something as simple as winning a duel, and held him until the nightmares go away. Because it wasn’t fair. Why did he have to suffer and watch the only family he had left be nothing more than an illusion created by Merlin?
“Gawain?”
The Knight takes a breath in before turning away from the view of Camelot – the place that seems more like a tombstone than a home nowadays – to face Lancelot. Gawain can see how tense his friend had become since King Sonic had left them. Another royal figure decided that they weren’t worth the trouble and left them behind. Gawain wanted to hate the king, both of them, but couldn’t.
“Supper is ready.”
Nothing else was spoken between the two as they head back to the castle. Which does nothing to stop the thoughts and the past but it can hold off for now. It’s the only thing that Gawain can hope for.