[complete/closed] Characters: Gawain (lealdade) & Tristan (ofmisadventures) Date/Time: February 24th (likely after Uriel's visit) Location: Dungeons, Ilium Rating: PG-13 Warnings: none. Summary: Brothers being adorable brothers. In a dungeon.
There had been no permission for Gawain to visit his brother at first. In a way, it wasn’t a bad decision of his Queen. Though he supposed she cared little whether he was divided or not – trusting only on him to fulfill his duty – it helped to solidify that part of him that still believed he shouldn’t have done this. With every look towards the prison, his doubt grew greater. Still, he had saved his brother, right? Others would have cut him down, no pity or remorse.
Still, he didn’t have the right to keep hiding. As soon as Helen gave the leave, Gawain took a break from his duties – something which seemed to have grown exponentially since the revolt – and walked those hundred steps towards the cells. No one saw fit to stop him. They reasoned that, since he had brought him in, he wouldn’t attempt to help him escape. If Gawain wanted, he could do it and none of them would be able to stop him.
His hands tightened, his back straightened and the General smothered such thoughts in between a dozen little others, all connected to the tasks which waited him outside.
“He’s in here, General.” Gawain blinked, a little confused. He hadn’t noticed to have crossed the space, down the stairs, all through the hallway, so far in his thoughts he had been. A nod was given to the soldier before the door was pulled out and he was allowed entrance.
Clearly he was popular with the visits. Tristan heard the door open and lifted his head away from the rat he had been observing in the corner. The little fellow was gnawing on something he really was sure he didn't want to know about. But if the rat was occupied then it meant he wouldn't be bothered by it.
But when he saw who had come to see him, he almost wished he had to deal with the rat. His love for his brother hadn't faded, no, but he hadn't wanted Gawain to see him like this. To get more involved.
Then again, look how stubborn he had been about it all. Of course his younger brother would behave similarly.
"You shouldn't be here," he scolded softly.
Seriously. Those were his first words? A small chuckle escaped his lips, dry amusement as his brother was still himself, revolt or not. That ended the second he looked at Tristan’s face. God, he had known Helen was a vengeful woman but this. He came closer, raising careful fingers to the side of his brother’s face. Because this had to be Helen’s handiwork; she would have been angry beyond words if someone had touched him without her permission.
“I shouldn’t but I am,” Gawain replied simply, frowning as each injury was clear to his eyes, even with the mild light. “Has this been treated properly? Disinfected?” What a useless question. Such as asking how he was, if he knew what his fate would be. But Gawain was his brother and someone had to do those questions, it was him.
His hand dropped to Tristan’s shoulder, tightening in a comforting motion. “Let’s get you treated.” Without waiting for a reply, he shouted out for the soldier who had brought him in, sending him in search of medicine with sharp commands and an undertone of don’t even dare to speak against me now. The man scurried off like his clothes were on fire.
They were but out of love and concern. He had not fought his own brother because he wanted to but to protect him.
"I think Helen wouldn't want me to perish from infection. I'm fine for now, brother," Tristan assured, a light smile playing on his lips, even as he watched the poor soldier dart off as if his life depended on it. "Be kinder to them. They're only doing their job, Gawain. Just as you should remember to do yours."
Because one day, his own brother might be asked to take his life. Momentarily, Tristan closed his good eye. Then it was open again and he had a question to ask.
"Tell me, what do you know of Patroclus and Eve?"
“I haven’t done anything more than my job for the past few days,” Gawain rebuked easily, frankly a little tired of hearing about his duty yet again. His mind was annoying enough. “Shouldn’t you worry a little more about yourself? I must leave orders to get you proper food, some better drink.” By the smell of the cell alone, unless Tristan got some proper treatment, he would wilt within weeks. Helen might not want it but in these conditions, it was likely.
The soldier hurried back, placing a towel on the floor before resting bandages, some alcohol, a poultice; all things that any man from the army could use without need of a more experience healer. Gawain waved him away with a small thank you, trying not to dump his bad humor on everyone else. His hands didn’t shake as they reached for the bandage on Tristan’s face.
“Eve is fine. I have heard rumors she made it out safely.” A cloth was dunked in water and used to clean up the skin carefully. “Patroclus is in the city and safe. He was fighting in the streets, trying to keep everything under control. Hathor and the kids are fine too. Though she worries over you.”
"Helen does not need to hear of your pampering a prisoner simply because he is your brother. Do you want to end up in here as well where you can do no good, Gawain?" Tristan said, frowning and helpless to having his face tended to. "Limit yourself. I am eating and I have survived this long. Helen knows what she's doing, I'm sure of it."
So Gawain knew of Eve's involvement then. But poor Hathor. He had never meant to worry her - or anyone else. "Please assure Hathor any way you can. I wouldn't want you to lie to her but she doesn't need the stress of knowing the full truth. I'm sure she'll guess it but..." He shook his head lightly. "I still rather not have her worry about something that is set in stone."
“Considering what I have done for her, the least I can be allowed is to give my brother some comfort in this hellhole.” He had been the one to bring him in, wasn’t that enough to show his Queen he knew where his loyalties lie? If not, well, he didn’t care anymore. This much he could do. “Stop complaining, Tristan. I can be allowed to take foolish steps as much as the next man.”
Water was replaced by the poultice, laboriously dumped on the bandages and on the skin around the injury. God, this was a touch of cruelty, like chipping away a man’s world, piece by piece. Analytically, Gawain continued his ministrations, leaving the analysis for a later moment in which he could dwell on them. “She knows what has happened, at least the basics. She’s a strong woman. It would be worse if we tried hiding anything from her.” He made a small pause, comically confused, an eyebrow lightly raised. “In fact, it would be far worse for myself if I tried.”
"You can't think to - ah, a little more gently now - assume with her. And people more fragile than myself have been here and have lasted. I will survive until she decides to execute me." There was no need to mince his words. They both knew what was possible. "And I'm allowed to complain. I'm your older brother and you're not listening to me."
Then the images of Hathor handling Gawain triggered a grin. "She would deal with you very well. She's clever and brilliant with her tactics. Perhaps she should be the next right-hand."
“Consider it payback for doing something like this without a word.” Amusingly enough, the words didn’t contain a hint of recrimination. It was merely an observation. “You might as well stop now because I’m likely to pamper you more, the more you speak against it.” Gawain gave him a half-smile as he started tying the bandages around his brother’s head, making sure it tied securely but not too tight as to cause pain. He would definitely need to bring food in as well.
The sheer idea of Hathor ordering him around was almost enough to make Gawain want to run for the hills. “While she would do an amazing job, I have enough women as my superiors in my life. Polyxena is also in the city. Next you will say she would be a good replacement.” His Queen, his Lady, no, it was good enough as it was. “I don’t want to speak about substitutes just yet. In fact, I don’t want a word about everything that happened.” It was enough for him to worry over Tristan’s future by himself. He would ignore it while inside those walls.
"You know I couldn't say anything." But he neglected to fight the pampering, certain Gawain would do as he said. He didn't want the man to linger and risk being caught being too gentle.
Polyxena? The princess of Camlann? His heart nearly sank at the idea of having put another region's royalty in danger. That would have been a disaster if something had happened to her. He hadn't even heard of the woman's visit or would have stalled the whole thing. "Alright, we won't speak of it anymore." He wouldn't torture his brother over such things further.
He knew, of course he did. He just didn’t like it. Inspecting his handiwork, Gawain gave it a final nod of appreciation and knelt on the ground. “I can’t stay long,” he informed seriously. “I don’t want to be forbidden from coming here. But expect me to come at least a few minutes every day. And make sure to eat what I will send you. Hide it away if it bothers you others will see it.”
Leaving that place, leaving Tristan behind was going to be damned hard. That was a certainty. But damned if he wouldn’t do anything he could in the meanwhile.
It would be just as hard as watching Gawain leave but they both had to be strong.
"And you shouldn't stay long at all. You should have left some time ago." Again, with the brotherly scolding. He couldn't help it, it seemed. "I'll eat and manage. I would like to live as long as I can, Gawain. I promise you that but I will not enjoy seeing you risk yourself. So be wise. Focus on aiding our Eve and, just in case, Patroclus. Things may get more harsh for those illegitimate and common."
“An older brother twenty-four-seven.” Could be annoying, ended up as endearing instead. Gawain leaned in, giving him a hug as strong as he dared with his brother’s injuries. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep them safe. There’s enough room in my house. And if necessary, I can arrange her a proper situation out of the region. Whatever takes to keep them safe. Stop worrying.”
The General stood up, a last nod at his brother and an unspoken promise. “Get some rest now. You probably won’t be bothered today.” Swallowing through a parched throat, Gawain forced himself to turn around and walk towards the door, walk outside while it was closed behind him with the strength of a death sentence.