NIGHT'S WATCH//GALAHAD

[Alowyn of Wessex]

Alowyn of Essex had quite a reputation. It wasn’t easy to ignore the whispered voices that followed the slender woman, everything from “savage,” to “godless,” to “stupidly bold.” Alowyn depended upon these words, spoke in awe and fear, as much as she depended upon Arthur’s goodwill to keep her afloat until she returned north to claim her birthright. The only problem was, keeping up such a façade was downright exhausting. Aly was beginning to suspect that underneath her collected exterior, she didn’t even know who the real Alowyn was anymore. The little girl that had ran from the wreckage of her home sixteen years previously had grown up, spending every waking minute seeking refuge and allies. She lived for her people, those that Cerdic had taken from her, but did she live for herself? What was she really doing here, at Hadrian’s Wall? What did she owe the Saxons that Cenric claimed? She had escaped, could settle down, find a man that she loved and bear him children while leaving them to shape their own fate, but that would be cowardly. Even despite her distaste for the proverbial crown and sceptor, Alowyn could not leave innocents to suffer when she could do something about it, regardless of whether she wanted to or not. It was her duty.

But that didn’t mean that she had to always be happy with the idea.

Many nights, Alowyn had problems with insomnia. Tonight was another of those evenings, and with a lingering sense of restlessness, she had made her way through the small city guarded by the wall. When she came upon the armory, she glanced around to make sure that no one had seen her. She didn’t know what she was so worried about- it was a cold, fall night, and well past midnight at that. Only a lone sentry would be about, and she hadn’t even seen the poor unfortunate wretch, which meant he was possibly sleeping off his ale. Regardless, she highly doubted she would be disturbed as she looked over her options in the building, her torchlight reflected in the steel of many swords and maces. She placed it carefully in a holder and ran her fingers lightly over a few of the swords, seeing with her fingers rather than her eyes. She wanted desperately to pick up one of the great longswords and have at it, but it was her pride talking- the balance would be terrible with her petite frame, and she was already a bad enough swordsman as it were. She finally chose a medium sword of decent worksmanship and took up her torch again, heading out into the practice grounds. She had been doing this several nights a week for the last three weeks, her breaking and entering act, and so far her luck had won out and she hadn’t been caught. If the gods were willing, that would carry on tonight.

Alowyn positioned her torch once again and shed her wolfskin cloak, letting it fall to the ground. She could feel the cold air hit the exposed tops of her breasts and neck, and she closed her eyes, taking a breath. At least it wasn’t raining, she thought to herself with a sigh. She took the sword into her hand once again and gave it an experimental swing, growing accustomed to the feel and weight of it. She longed for the sword she had been using previously, but it had been given to a village lad that had come of age and joined the cause.

Growing bolder, Alowyn began to move, fighting her invisible foes as she tried to emulate the movements she saw the knights using when they were practicing. How many times had she thought it would be much easier to ask one of them for help, instead of her thief in the night approach? Every time she opened her mouth to do so, however, she shut it with the reminder that Alowyn the Brave, Alowyn the Untouchable, wouldn’t be so base as to not know how to use the most common of weaponry- and so she would practice in solitude, her pride in tact.

[/b][/color] : 692
NOTES : Listening to: Cold Shoulder- Adele. NOTES: Totally random, I know, but I'm terrible at starting posts.
TAGS : Galahad
LYRICS : e.t. katy perry
CREDIT : glen coco // callie
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[Galahad]

Night had stolen the light of day away and replaced it with long shadows and hidden corners. There was a coldness in the air, one that made Galahad pull his cloak just that little tighter around his shoulders. It had been a long day, a long day of digging and lifting and building, but it still had been productive. He was helping to build another building for storage, hopefully to be filled with the stocks from next season’s harvest. With more people flooding to the fort there was more mouths to feed, more beds needed, more water required. But it was late, past midnight by Galahad’s reckoning and he wanted to find his bed and rest before the light of tomorrow’s sun.

Following the long shadows Galahad wove his way through the fort, his path taking him past the training grounds. As he walked he was lost in his own thoughts, so much so that he did not notice the lone figure moving about across the dirt. It was only when there was a grunt that Galahad lifted his head, his dark curls bouncing as he turned his attention to the noise. Immediately his eyes made out a figure, most clearly a woman. Her body moved across the dirt, the orange flicker from her torch occasionally sweeping across her frame. Curious Galahad moved forward, his steps light and silent as not to disturb the woman. It was only when he approached the wooden fence that he noticed whom the body belonged to… Alowyn.

Alowyn, the beauty whom had captured his attention from the moment he had seen her. Alowyn, the Saxon by blood whom had a fair claim to her people’s thrown. Alowyn whom should by every right be his enemy, who he should hate and loath and yet it was Alowyn whom he saw when he shut his eyes at night. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon and he liked everything he knew of her. Bold, brash with confidence far greater than her small frame would lead one to believe. More than a match for any man, more than a match for Galahad and yet he could not get her image out of his head.

What was she doing out here so late? With the darkness looming around her and the shadows closing in. More so what was she doing trying to wield a sword in the practice yard? And why in the name of the Gods did she look so beautiful doing so?

“You leave your left side to exposed to your opponent!” Galahad suddenly called out, the words spilling from his lips before he had time to catch them. But it was true, the way Alowyn held her sword she was exposing her left side more than she should giving her opponent the perfect place to lodge an attack.

[Alowyn of Wessex]

No matter what they thought of Alowyn’s politics, anyone who met her had to admit one thing: when she did something, she didn’t go halfway. With every thrust and parry, her entire being was engaged- which was also why she didn’t hear the approach of the knight that was now watching her.

“You leave your left side to exposed to your opponent!

The sword in her hand fell to her side as Alowyn whirled to stare at the man that was watching her, taking only a moment’s assessment to realize it was Galahad. What was he doing out here? The knights were constantly moving, constantly working, shouldn’t he be in bed? The idea crossed her mind that he probably wondered the same about her, and a faint flush of embarrassment at being caught off guard passed over her pale face.

“Thank you.” She said calmly enough, raising the sword once again. She proceeded to go through the rhythm of movements, modifying to take on his constructive criticism, but her mind wasn’t with the sword anymore- it was on her audience. Why, of all the knights, did it have to be Galahad meandering around on a late night stroll? She wouldn’t care so much about making a fool out of herself in front of Gawain or Lancelot. Sure, it would be embarrassing, but it wouldn’t be anything horrifying. Since arriving and making her alliance with Arthur, Alowyn had made it a point to spend time in the company of his knights- at first, probably to their annoyance, but they had become used to her. She wasn’t above playing dice with them (or gambling, for that matter,) and she had no problem holding her ale. Whatever they thought about her duty and her position at the wall, they seemed to like her well enough in the restive, festive hours of the evening. Well, other than Galahad.

Alowyn didn’t know what to make of the curly-haired knight, to be honest, and as such, she avoided him. The first time she met him, Alowyn had felt a peculiar attraction to him, the way he said her name, the way he assessed her. She had no idea what he thought of her, but Alowyn was smart enough to know that any attraction such as she was feeling was dangerous- she wasn’t at home, she was in a land of foreigners, half of whom still had no qualms about killing her. Falling for anyone- especially a knight- was dangerous, and incredibly foolish.

Unfortunately, that just made it all the more tempting.

She took another swing, overextending herself, and stumbled, nearly falling into the dirt. Insult to injury, she thought with a sigh. The gods can be cruel. She once again let the sword fall to her side, and turned back to Galahad.

“I’m not so good at this.” She admitted, raising a hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. It was probably the most words she had ever spoke to him, and she found they came too easily to her lips. She dared a glance at him, her pale blue eyes meeting his dark ones, and she chewed on her lip for a moment before continuing. “Would you mind…” Her voice trailed off but she smiled, nodding towards her sword. It hurt her pride to ask for the help, but neither of them could argue that she didn’t need it. Best to just suck it up and deal with it, and better to do it now with Galahad than later with someone who was sensibly abed right that moment.

[/b][/color] : 599
NOTES : Listening to: Distance- Christina Perri. NOTES: D'aawwwww! *huggles Galahad* He's so adorable!
TAGS : Galahad
LYRICS : e.t. katy perry
CREDIT : glen coco // callie
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[Galahad]

As Alowyn spun around on her heels to face him, Galahad was caught by the swish of long blond hair that seemed to fan about her body as though in slow motion. He could have cursed himself really if he was not in that moment rather to preoccupied with how beautiful the young woman looked standing there panting heavily. He blinked, his bigger than life blue eyes locking with Alowyn’s. He nodded at her thanks, dark curls bouncing against his forehead as the Knight continued to watch.

In all honesty he was in two minds and rather confused, which for Galahad was not an unusual state of feeling when it came to the blond Saxon woman. But this time it was not about how he felt inside, rather it was as to why Alowyn was out here in the middle of the night. She was a Saxon born and bred and yet the way she wielded her sword it almost looked as though she was struggling to know how to use it. But… why? She was a Saxon! All experience Galahad had ever had with Saxons was of death and pain. He had lost those that he cared about to those cruel, heartless bastards and yet… Alowyn was every exception to that rule as he had ever known. And that is why he found himself attracted to her, as much as he knew he should not. He hated the Saxon’s and yet Alowyn was nothing like the Saxon’s he had ever known. She was beautiful for a start, but along with that he had noticed she would join in with the other Knights in the tavern in the evenings. Not necessarily with him, but he had seen her with Lancelot and Tristan at times, playing dice, drinking…. Smiling. Her smile was brighter than the sun abo…. Galahad blinked, he really needed to focus on what was happening at hand and not let his mind wander again!

It was just as he was blinking himself back into reality that Galahad saw Alowyn stumble. Strange how one’s body can react without a thought going into the process. Within a second his hand was on the wooden rail which ran along the edge of the training field. He quickly hoisted his body up, foot finding a hold just in the right spot so he could swing himself up and over the wooden rail. Galahad landed on the other side with a small thud and dashed across the dirt to where Alowyn now stood still.

His dash had not really been necessary for Alowyn had not fallen and when he approached she was standing perfectly well. What caught Galahad off guard were Alowyn’s words, as though she were asking him for help. But… why? She was a Saxon and were not Saxon’s taught to fight from birth? Or before if the tales Galahad had heard from Tristan were true…

“You don’t wield a sword?” Galahad asked with a slight front of confusion. But as the words tumbled from his lips he realized just how insulting they might have sounded to a proud Saxon woman such as Alowyn and he coughed nervously. The hint of a blush swept across his cheeks and instinctively he ran a hand through his dark curls to distract himself. “I mean.. it’s not your choice of weapons? I tend to prefer using short swords myself, more room to manouver around an opponent….” and now he was rambling like a fool. Galahad could have slapped himself, and he probably should have. Why could he not have the charm of Lancelot when it came to beautiful women?!

(OOC: Apologies, Galahad tends to ramble when nervous!)

[Alowyn of Wessex]

How many times had Alowyn been asked about her presence on the wall since she arrived? How many people still expected her to betray them and Arthur to her bloodthirsty cousins? Alowyn never bothered to get offended by the questions, because she had to admit that if she were in their position, she wouldn’t trust her either. Still, the question came up again and again, so often, in fact, that she knew the peculiar look that people got on their face- and while Galahad knew better than to question her loyalty, she could tell he was having a bit of difficulty figuring out the blurry line between herself and those of her kind that he had met previously. Instead of defending herself against his unspoken confusion, she remained quiet, her eyes locked with his. If he had something to say, then by all means, she would hear it. She couldn’t do anything more than she was already doing to prove her good intentions- those that still doubted her always would.

His sudden movement made Alowyn take a step back to keep him from plowing into her, and she tilted her head. Had he been trying to… rescue her? She had to admit that she was flattered, even if it was unnecessary- she would have laid gold down that most people in Hadrian would have let her fall flat on her face. At the end of the day, she was still a Saxon- regardless of who she was allied with.

She tilted her head back, looking up at Galahad. He was exactly a foot taller than her, and she always forgot the presence he had around him. It was as if every bit of the air between them crackled with energy, and it was unlike anything she experienced with anyone else. She almost dared to reach out her hand and touch his skin to see if it crackled as well, but the last ounce of restraint she had held her back.

“You don’t wield a sword?”

Alowyn raised her brows, looking amused rather than angry. She had been nothing but forthcoming in speaking about her people and her customs, in hope of one day bridging the gap between them and the Romans. As such, she was used to all manners of incredulous questions as, one by one, she turned her people from bloodthirsty monsters into humans. Humans that were different from them, sure, but still humans. “It would seem not.” She said wryly, waiting to see if he took in her request. She didn’t think her pride would allow her to seek out another teacher if he declined.

“I mean.. it’s not your choice of weapons? I tend to prefer using short swords myself, more room to manouver around an opponent….”

Was he blushing? Alowyn blinked, hiding a small smile. Every time she thought she had this man figured out, he came up with a way to surprise her again. “I’m afraid my father never bothered teaching me how to use a sword. I prefer arrows, or staffs. However, if one is to fight a war against swords… one should probably learn to use one, shouldn’t they?” She shuffled her feet on the ground. Now that she had halted her practicing, the night air was settling into her bones more. It had been a long time since she had been at home in the North- she was no longer used to the Saxon winter that seemed to last forever.

“I’ve watched you practicing.” She continued, her eyes going from her discarded wolf fur and back to him. There was a teasing glint to her eye. “Now, are you going to help a lady, or does she have to beg?”

[/b][/color] : 619
NOTES : Listening to: Game of Thrones. NOTES: I'm perfectly fine with his rambling! Lol
TAGS : Galahad
LYRICS : e.t. katy perry
CREDIT : glen coco // callie
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[Galahad]

“I’m afraid my father never bothered teaching me how to use a sword. I prefer arrows, or staffs. However, if one is to fight a war against swords… one should probably learn to use one, shouldn’t they?”

She was a Saxon and had never been taught to use a sword? The words somehow did not seem to meld together in Galahad’s brain. But… she was a Saxon and Saxon’s killed and murdered and brandished swords with sheer anger and hatred. But then there was nothing that Galahad had ever seen in Alowyn to ever suggest that she was full of anger or hatred or a deep lust to kill and take life. It was as though Alowyn was the exception to every rule about the Saxon’s that Galahad had ever been taught. Maybe Tristan hadn’t been right, maybe not all Saxon’s were taught to wield a sword from birth.

“I’ve watched you practicing.”

Alowyn’s words made Galahad’s thoughts snap back to the present and he looked down at the beautiful blond trying desperately to keep his facial features as calm as possible. She had been watching him? When? Oh dear Gods please don’t let her have ever seen him training against Tristan! Galahad swore from the moment he had first met the scout right until this point in time, and beyond, that Tristan was part human part something else. Galahad had never beaten him in a fight… well he came close once but he had still landed flat on his face with Tristan’s sword digging into his spine. What if she had seen him practicing against Lancelot? The sneaky bastard that he was! Lancelot always cheated; at least that’s what Galahad told himself so he would not feel so much of a fool every time that he lost. But at least he could claim one victory over Lancelot, one in all the years they had trained together. Although Lancelot would say that was because he had been sick and could barely move… but that was not the point, Galahad had still won and he would never let the First Knight forget it!

“If you’ve seen me train against Lancelot you should know he cheat…” Galahad spoke aloud, just reaffirming his thoughts more for himself than for Alowyn’s benefit.

“Now, are you going to help a lady, or does she have to beg?”

She was asking him? Alowyn was actually asking for his help? She could have asked Tristan, she could have asked Lancelot but she had asked him. Perhaps it was just because he was there watching her this late at night? But Galahad was no fool and was certainly not going to turn down this opportunity to spend more time with this woman whom had captured his attention in every manner possible.

Galahad looked down at the sword in Alowyn’s hand and then back up into her deep grey blue eyes. “Well, first you need to hold your sword like it’s an extension of your arm, loosely not with too much grip. Hold it firm but let it move within your palm, that way you will have more control over your actions.”

[Alowyn of Wessex]

She shook her head slightly at the incredulous look he was giving her, and she kicked lightly at a clod of dirt on the ground. “We’re not all bad.” She said quietly, as if she could read his thoughts. How many times had she told herself she was being foolish when she had first set out to speak to Arthur? That the Sarmatian knights she had been taught to fear and hate from her first breath would rape her, torture her, kill her? The most contact any of them had made with her was to accidently brush against her on the wall, or the verbal banter she shared with them over ale. We both have a lot to learn…

She wasn’t quite sure what she had said, but his expression changed, and she frowned. She hadn’t meant any offense- in fact, she had considered the comment quite mundane. She watched all of the knights train, trying to learn from afar, so to speak. Still… none of them commanded her attention the way Galahad did. She usually showed up in the morning to watch the practice bouts and would end up staying until he called it quits, always perched in the same spot on the wall, unnoticed.

“If you’ve seen me train against Lancelot you should know he cheats…”

Alowyn rested a hand on his arm gently, reassuring him the way she did her mare when the horse was nervous. Her hands were cold, the skin of her palms calloused from using the weapons she did know how to wield. She didn’t fully understand the motivations behind his comment, but she did understand that she had made him uncomfortable, which had never been her intention. “I’m not critiquing your form,” She stated with a tilt of her head. She replayed her words in her head, taking in the double entendre. Lancelot is rubbing off on me, she thought mildly, shaking her head. “I beg pardon. I’m not critiquing your swordsmanship.” Though she certainly wouldn’t mind paying attention to his physique. She let her hand fall back to her side. “Besides, Lancelot is so good because he’s unpredictable. He does exactly the opposite of what one expects him to, and therefore catches his opponent off guard.”

I’m acting like a damned maiden fool.

While originally she had been a bit put out that it was Galahad that had found her, Alowyn was starting to recognize a blessing in disguise. It was still rather embarrassing that he caught her at a moment of weakness, but it was providing her with the chance to actually talk to him, rather than watch from afar. Alowyn was by no means a shy woman, but she wasn’t someone that didn’t like to be in control of a situation, and Galahad was too much of a wild card for her. She couldn’t predict him, and she barely understood him, and as such he was fascinating and dangerous to her. Neither were good things when one was trying to reclaim a kingdom. She didn’t need any distractions.

“Well, first you need to hold your sword like it’s an extension of your arm, loosely not with too much grip. Hold it firm but let it move within your palm, that way you will have more control over your actions.”

Alowyn smiled at his words, happy he had given into helping her. She rolled her shoulders lazily before following his advice, looking up at him for approval or criticism. “Like this?” She was used to weapons that required both hands, and as such, her instinct was to grip the handle with a death grip. At his behest, she had loosened it, though to her it simply felt strange. How was she not to drop it? Still, he knew what he was talking about- she knew this from watching him, day after day. Despite what he said about Lancelot, Galahad was a good fighter, fast and light on his feet. He knew what he was doing, and for now, she would trust that he would not lead her astray.

[/b][/color] : 677
NOTES : Listening to: Distance- Christina Perri (This is seriously Alowyn's theme song regarding Galahad.) NOTES:
TAGS : Galahad
LYRICS : e.t. katy perry
CREDIT : glen coco // callie
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[Galahad]

Despite the coldness of the night Alowyn’s touch sent fire coursing up Galahad’s arm. His deep blue eyes immediately dropped to look at her hand, long slender fingers against the coarseness of his shirt. She had never touched him before. Strange that he would know such a thing, but then it was true. Not even a bump or a push or a touch, nothing. Even though her skin was not touching his, Galahad could still feel the heat from her fingers and he stared at those beautiful fingers transfixed until ALowyn spoke again.

“I’m not critiquing your form,” “I beg pardon. I’m not critiquing your swordsmanship.” “Besides, Lancelot is so good because he’s unpredictable. He does exactly the opposite of what one expects him to, and therefore catches his opponent off guard.”

Galahad’s eyes snapped back up, an eyebrow instantly rising as the faintest hint of a smirk curled one corner of his lips. If he was not fooled he could have sworn he heard a ring of Lancelot’s words in Alowyn’s comment. He would have opened his mouth and made some smart ass reply back about not minding if she were watching his form but instead the Knight chose to keep his mouth shut. Had she merely been watching him train as she watched the others, or had she been watching him like he watched her? Probably not, she was probably watching Lancelot and just happened to see him. All the women watched Lancelot…. Bastard!

His blue eyes watched as Alowyn seemed to take his advice and loosened her grip on the sword she had been holding. Immediately Galahad could see her arm began to relax and he nodded his head silently. That was one of the first things he had ever been taught and it was a piece of advice that proved to be invaluable. The tighter the grip the less control one had when metal met metal.

“Like this?”

“Much better” Galahad said with a bright smile. “And when you stand, tilt your body more to the side. Don’t face your opponent straight on, if you do you’re giving them more area on your body to attack.” He was not exactly sure how to explain himself so without thinking Galahad reached forward.He placed one calloused hand on Alowyn’s left side, the other on her right hip and gently he pushed her hip backwards tilting her body in the process trying to show in actions what his words meant.

(OOC: *Rushes off to listen to that song!)

[Alowyn of Wessex]

Despite how friendly and warm Alowyn was, she had a hard time initiating personal contact. She had a good memory and could talk to anyone about their children, their parents, their lovers without any lapse in thought, but when it came to resting her hand on their arm in condolence, Alowyn didn’t have it in her. The fact that she had been able to reach out to Galahad without even thinking about it surprised not only him, but herself as well. The fact that she didn’t immediately pull away surprised her even more.

She could feel her cheeks flush when he smirked, rather sure he was laughing at her. Alowyn had been learning the common tongue since she was very young, almost as long as she had been speaking the Saxon language, and rarely did she mix up her words unless she was very flustered. Galahad had her on edge, and she didn’t fully understand why. They weren’t having a verbal sparring match the way she did with Lancelot, but even that seemed more relaxing than… this. What exactly was this, anyway?

How she would give anything to read minds. She usually didn’t have any problem discerning what men were thinking- with the exception of Arthur, that was like trying to read emotions from a boulder- but Galahad was every bit as difficult to discern as his sovereign. It wasn’t that he was expressionless, but that his expression didn’t seem to match anything that was going on. Right that instant, she was picking up irritation and jealousy, but over what? What could she possibly have that he would be jealous of?

“Much better.”

At his smile, Alowyn positively beamed. Rarely did praise excite her- she wasn’t in the line of duty for praise, after all, but something about the compliment as well as his smile made her want to do something else to earn that look again. “Thank you.”

“And when you stand, tilt your body more to the side. Don’t face your opponent straight on, if you do you’re giving them more area on your body to attack.”

She furrowed her brow, trying to process that, when his hands on her suddenly made her stiffen. Realizing that it wasn’t an attack of any sort, she relaxed in his grip, but her entire awareness was on the placement on his hands. “I see.” She said, allowing him to move her. She could see his point, now that he had her placed- she could already feel the difference in how she was holding the sword, and how easily she could deflect, if need be. She gave an experimental swing, nodding to herself, but she was honestly not paying much attention- her mind was still on the warmth of his hands through her dress, and how she would very much like to feel those hands moving to explore other parts of her body….

Stop it! She chastised herself. You’re here to keep the alliance between yourself and Arthur, not bed his knights!

But she had to admit, it was such a sweet idea that she didn’t necessarily want to give it up…

“You’re a good teacher.” She said softly, not looking at him. If she met his gaze right then, she had a feeling she would do something that she would end up regretting later, lost a moment of maidenly foolishness. “I appreciate your patience with me.” While she still did not feel as if she would win a tournament, she did feel a lot more comfortable with the steel in her hand, and as if she could use it, if it came down to it. She took a breath, pulling herself together, and turned to face him, the closeness they had had a moment before retained. She was still warm enough that she could practically feel him breathing, and she tilted her head back to look up at him. Alowyn was of average height, and she rarely noticed, but standing next to him made her feel small and meek, like something that needed protection, not the killing machine that common talk made her out to be.

“What are you doing out here, anyway?” It hadn’t been the words she had intended to speak, but they spilled over her lips unheeded. She had to admit, she really did want to know the answer. Was he leaving a secret lover? Planning to run off on some adventure? She refused to believe it was dumb luck that had thrown them together this evening. “This is the first time since I’ve started doing this that I’ve run into anyone.”

[/b][/color] : 764
NOTES : Listening to: Chasing Pavements- Adele. NOTES: Did you listen? If so, what did you think?
TAGS : Galahad
LYRICS : e.t. katy perry
CREDIT : glen coco // callie
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[Galahad]

Somehow time had seemed to slow almost down to a standstill. Galahad still held one hand upon Alowyn’s hip, the other resting almost too comfortably upon her slender side. Since he was quite a bit taller than the blond this pose had caused Galahad to lean down slightly, bring his face down closer to Alowyn’s. Right now he could see every part of her delicate face, from those deep grey blue eyes to that perfectly formed nose to those thick full lips which he suddenly longed to kiss. Galahad could feel his breath catch in his throat, his eyes locked staring at those lips. He wanted more than anything in that moment to know what they tasted like. Did they feel as soft as they looked? Did they taste as sweet as he imagined them to be? Dear Gods why was he never as good with women as the others? Gawain just smiled and wagged an eyebrow and women came to him. Dagonet had the silent thing working for him and Bors had Vanora. What would Lancelot do if he were in this position, hands holding onto a beautiful woman? Well, Lancelot would probably have kissed her, picked her up and have her in his bed already! Galahad was not quite that bold. Be Alowyn a Saxon or not first and foremost she was a woman and women were mysterious creatures. One minute they could be smiling but if a man did something they did not like he could be flat on his back in the mud within the blink of an eye. And Galahad had not forgotten that Alowyn was very much a woman and she had a weapon in her hand, a rather large and sharp sword…. He wanted to kiss her but he also wanted to keep his stomach as part of his body!

Again as if in slow motion Alowyn seemed to tilt her face upwards just that little more so her eyes, those deep endless eyes were looking up at him. Unconsciously Galahad ran his tongue across his bottom lip as though trying to debate if a single kiss was worth being stabbed for. When Alowyn suddenly spoke the dark haired Knight was caught completely off guard.

“You’re a good teacher.” “I appreciate your patience with me.”
“What are you doing out here, anyway?” “This is the first time since I’ve started doing this that I’ve run into anyone.”

“Building….” Galahad blurted out, the word tumbling out of his mouth before he really had time to comprehend what he had just said. Without thinking he pulled both hands back away from Alowyn’s body but the moment he did so he regretted it instantly. The warmth from her slender frame that had been flooding across his calloused hands was suddenly gone and Galahad was left with his cold almost lonely feeling. Nervously, or perhaps just needing something to do with his hand he ran it through his dark curls.

“Arthur’s ordered that another building be built for storage. With more people in the fort we’ll need to store more gain and such after next harvest. I’ve been helping, they need all the strong hands they can get.” Galahad could not help but throw in that last part about strong hands and he smirked playfully. “I guess I should ask you the same question, why are you out here trying to learn how to use a sword without anyone to teach you?”

(OOC: I absolutely LOVE the song hun! It is so perfect for Alowyn and Galahad right now!)

[Alowyn of Wessex]

Alowyn was sure that her disappointment showed on her face. His hands had been warm against her body, steadying and real, and their sudden absence made her feel cold. She continued to stare up at him, frowning slightly, as she debated whether or not it would be worth it to place her hands once again on him… and whether or not he would welcome it.

You’re doing it again…

She cleared her throat softly, folding her arms to keep her hands from doing exactly what she wanted to let them do.

”Building…”

Her brows rose and she blinked, refocusing on him and pulling away from her thoughts. “Hm?” Her attention was diverted again as he ran his hand through his curls, and she found that gave her pause as well. He had such beautiful curls, nothing like her own straight, dull hair. She longed to reach out and touch, to curl one around her finger, but that would hardly be appropriate. What was it about this man that made her keep forgetting herself, her place?

“Arthur’s ordered that another building be built for storage. With more people in the fort we’ll need to store more gain and such after next harvest. I’ve been helping, they need all the strong hands they can get.”

“Pity my own aren’t that strong, or I’d offer my help.” She replied with a touch of humor, her own smile playing over her lips. “As it is, I think I’d be in the way more than I’d be of use to you.” Alowyn knew nothing of building, though she did know a bit about tearing down. How many of her own “cities” had she seen destroyed at Cenric’s hands? Too many for her liking. The very thought put an angry knot in her stomach, and she forced it away. She hadn’t lingered here to talk of politics and death.

”I guess I should ask you the same question, why are you out here trying to learn how to use a sword without anyone to teach you?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” She said quietly, resting the point of the sword on the ground and gripping it with both hands in order not to drop it. Insomnia was not a strange bedfellow to Alowyn, whose mind tended to be constantly going in eight different directions at once. She didn’t much care for nighttime and the dreams it brought. If they were portents of the future, she didn’t want a part in it. “Not many people seem to share my fondness of nighttime excursions, so I figured learning a new hobby was in order.” She said, attempting a joke. “After all, how hard could it be?”

She was a bit astonished at how relieved she was that he had been returning from work, rather than a nighttime tryst- almost too relieved. What is he to you, Alowyn, really? She wondered as she watched him. She had no doubt of her attraction, but would it even be fair to try and pursue something? She had a kingdom to run, and as soon as she took up her rightful post again, where would he fit in? Better yet, would he even want to?

Giving herself time to think, she went to where she had left her wolfskin cloak and picked it up, wrapping herself in it before returning to his side. There was nothing like the wee hours of the night to make one feel uncertain, but Alowyn had been feeling a lot of that these days. Was she doing anyone any favors by trying to fight for what she believed in? She wasn’t an idealist- she knew that some of Arthur’s men would die in pursuit of her throne, and would Galahad be among them? Could she bear to have that blood staining her hands?

“Do you think I’m a fool?” She asked softly, her voice almost inaudible. “For thinking I can do this, I mean?”

[/b][/color] : 655
NOTES : Listening to: Set Fire to the Rain- Adele. NOTES: I'm glad you liked it!
TAGS : Galahad
LYRICS : e.t. katy perry
CREDIT : glen coco // callie
[/ul][/size]

[Galahad]

“Pity my own aren’t that strong, or I’d offer my help.” “As it is, I think I’d be in the way more than I’d be of use to you.”

Perhaps there was some truth in her words, but what kind of truth Alowyn was certain not to know. How could Galahad ever concentrate on lifting rocks and setting mortar when Alowyn was walking past? How could he hear the call to raise or lower a block when he was staring so intently at the beautiful blond? If she only knew what power she wielded over him she could use it for ill or good, whatever her desire be. He had never felt this way about a woman before, never with such passion and vigour. Yes he had admired women, he had fancied them, bed them, but there was never an attraction like this. Like there was a pull deep within his stomach that made him loose all sense of rationality, all reasoning whenever his eyes fell upon Alowyn.

“I couldn’t sleep.” “Not many people seem to share my fondness of night time excursions, so I figured learning a new hobby was in order.” “After all, how hard could it be?”

Galahad snorted loudly, the curl of his lips growing wider at her words. His noise was not out of cruelty but rather humour at the double meaning of her words. How hard could it be? He had been here for fifteen years and there were skills he desperately wished to master. The scars littered across his body gave testament to how hard it was to wield a sword. He was one of the lucky ones, one of the Knights whom had survived when so many had lost their lives.

“Hard…” Galahad said with a lopsided grin, his eyes glinting in the crystal light from the moon. His lips parted to speak again but Alowyn moved away and the grin fell from his face. For a moment he thought she was leaving but as he watched he saw she was only going to retrieve her cloak. And almost as quickly as it had left the smile was back on Galahad’s lips when Alowyn once more returned to speak with him. Oh if she only knew the power her actions had over him.

“Do you think I’m a fool?” “For thinking I can do this, I mean?”

“A fool?” This time it was Galahad’s turn to frown. His deep eyes looked down at Alowyn’s pale face, scanning every feature that he could see. How could someone so beautiful be a fool? Without even thinking Galahad reached out and with his long fingers he gently brushed a loose strand of golden hair from Alowyn’s cheek. “Why is it foolish to want to better yourself?” He asked curiously.

[Alowyn of Wessex]

Galahad’s derisive snort made Alowyn smile in spite of herself, and a small laugh escaped her lips. It had been a while since she had felt light enough to laugh, even at something as small as a simple jest. Far too often, she forgot how to let her troubles rest and not worry them to death.

”Hard…”

“You’re just not good at it, like me.” She teased him, reclaiming her previous stance. She didn’t dare challenge him to a sparring match, as she knew he’d have her disarmed in mere seconds, but perhaps she could talk him into training with her again. She would offer something in return, perhaps lessons with staffs since he was already quite skilled with a bow and arrow. It was something she was confident she could teach, and teach well- she had practically been born with one in her hand. She had her own before she could even walk as a child.

”A fool?”

She glanced up at him when his fingers grazed her cheek, leaning into his touch. So often Alowyn stood on her own, looking to herself for the answer to all of her problems. That didn’t mean that at times, she didn’t feel so assured in her abilities. To have someone she could talk to, someone she could trust not to hurt her, was all that Alowyn really asked for herself. With Galahad, he had no expectations of her (that she could see,) and she didn’t need to say what he wanted to hear to gain his support. How long had it been since Alowyn had had just a friend? She raised her hand, placing it over his and wrapping her slender fingers around it to keep him from pulling away.

“Why is it foolish to want to better yourself?”

“Not that.” She said softly. Her eyes were bright in the moonlight as she held his gaze, seemingly enraptured by him. “For thinking I can win a war. For thinking I can run a kingdom.” Alowyn had never spoke these fears out loud before, but something about Galahad inspired her confidence in him. “Your Romans say that ‘to the victor goes the spoils,’ and… I’m not so sure I can be the victor.” Alowyn had little delusions about what she was capable of- she was smart, good with a bow, and above all, damned lucky. The gods had spared her from her family’s death, but for what, exactly? “Every day I toil here, more of my people die, waiting for me. They think that I can save them… but I’m not so sure I can.” She let her gaze drop to the dirt, and took in a long, slow breath. The words had been long in her head, ever since she had seen her father slaughtered, her mother beheaded. Ever since she had ran towards the woods, her brother’s blood staining her clothes and skin. She couldn’t save her family, what made her think she could save anyone else?

“I’m sorry.” She said quietly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, though she did not let her hand drop. “It’s unfair of me to burden you with my own worries. Let us discuss something lighter. How are things for you?” She offered him a small smile, allowing herself to once again slip behind the mask of noble civility. Now he had to think her an idiot, as well as crazy. Way to go, Aly. As if these people didn’t already mistrust you and suspect you likely to kill them in their beds. Wait until they hear you practice swordfighting late in the night without any witnesses. That’ll have them feeling warm and fuzzy towards you.

[/b][/color] : 613
NOTES : Listening to: Yankee Soldier- Great Big Sea. NOTES: I adore these two so much.
TAGS : Galahad
LYRICS : e.t. katy perry
CREDIT : glen coco // callie
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[Galahad]

Her fingers entwining with his felt like a surge of hot fire racing up through his hand, but instead of pulling them away he boldly cupped her cheek. Despite the feeling Galahad could not tear his eyes away from Alowyn’s. His own blue eyes locked with her grey blue orbs that seemed endless.

“Not that.” “For thinking I can win a war. For thinking I can run a kingdom.” “Your Romans say that ‘to the victor goes the spoils,’ and… I’m not so sure I can be the victor.” “Every day I toil here, more of my people die, waiting for me. They think that I can save them… but I’m not so sure I can.”

Never before had Galahad ever heard Alowyn speak of such intimate matters which clearly touched her heart. He had listened while she bantered with Lancelot or joked with Gawain but he had never heard her speak of her people. It was as though before this moment the Saxon people and Alowyn although the same were worlds apart. Galahad watched as Alowyn ducked her head trying to avoid his gaze. Gently he moved his hand so that he could tilt her beautiful face to look back up at him.

“They are not my Roman’s” he said softly. “Remember I was nothing more than a slave trained to fight and kill in battles which were not my own.” It was a sad truth one Galahad rarely admitted to anyone. But at the end of the day it was the truth. He was taken from his home because of an old debt, he was brought to this god forsaken country and trained, day in, day out. He was beaten, starved, kicked turned from a peaceful boy to a man whom was capable of bloodshed. To him battle was not in his blood, it was a means of survival.

“I fought to live, you fight so that your people can live…” Galahad spoke again, his voice low and calm. Of the two of them it was Alowyn who was by far the more selfless. She fought to save her people so that they might live.

“I’m sorry.” “It’s unfair of me to burden you with my own worries. Let us discuss something lighter. How are things for you?”

And then it was gone, as quickly as it had appeared. Gone was the worried, insecure woman replaced by a joke and a distracting word. Galahad snorted softly, so there was more to Alowyn than he had first thought. Despite her appearance, despite how brave she looked to be there were worries and fears bubbling underneath…. Just the same as every other person. Galahad was not about to let that side of Alowyn slip away so easily and he knew if ever there was a chance this was the time. If he did not take it now he might never have the opportunity again and he would certainly kick himself for the rest of his days, however long or short they might be.

Without waiting to talk himself out of it Galahad leaned forward. He closed the distance between his face and Alowyn’s until his lips were touching hers. Then gently he brushed his lips against Alowyn’s exploring the softness of her lips against his. A thousand sparks flew across his lips at the feeling and boldly Galahad parted his lips and kissed the blond deeply, his hand still cupping her cheek.

[Alowyn of Wessex]

When he tilted her head up, Alowyn had no choice but to return her gaze to his. She wasn’t used to being so forthcoming with her thoughts- even Arthur hadn’t heard her speak so many words as she had just spoke to Galahad. Something about him inspired trust in the Saxon princess, putting her at ease until she simply forgot to hold her tongue and the unspoken Saxon oath to never, ever show weakness. There were days that Alowyn woke up and felt she was in a state of suspension- she didn’t feel she would pass among her people as Saxon any longer, but she wouldn’t pass for a Briton, either. She was the perfect balance, and she had no idea whether or not it was a blessing or a curse.

“They are not my Romans. Remember I was nothing more than a slave trained to fight and kill in battles which were not my own.”

“And yet you stay.” She returned gently. Her tone was not accusing, but curious. She had seen the respect that Arthur commanded from his knights, the unwavering loyalty. Alowyn had never seen anything quite like it, and was sure she never would again. “You have your papers- if you wanted, you could leave. What makes you stay?” She knew without a doubt that if she were able, she would have returned home, regardless of the fact that she no longer had anyone there to pull her back. She had been born in the Saxon lands, and if she had her way about it, she would die there as well- her period in Hadrian was simply a long interlude, nice, but just a distraction.

“I fought to live, you fight so that your people can live…”

She shook her head. She didn’t fully understand where he got his idea of her, this golden crusader for peace. When it came down to it, she was a lot less heroic than any single person in Hadrian. She was hiding here, safe, when she should be at home, facing the dangers and perils that every single one of her people faced every day. “I fight because I know nothing else.” She said quietly. “I don’t want to raise children in a world where things like what happened to me are possible. No child deserves that.”

Something changed in his expression, and Alowyn had hardly been prepared for it. She barely had time to register that he was suddenly moving closer to her before his lips were on hers. She didn’t think as she responded, returning the kiss with every ounce of her being. Her hand slid down his arm, holding on for balance as she rose to her tiptoes to deepen the action. She pulled away only when she was absolutely out of breath, and she rocked back on her heels, maintaining her grip on his arm.

“You never told me you could read minds,” she laughed breathlessly. “I do hope that’s not how you greet every woman in your company.” Her eyes were searching his face for any hint of what was going on in his mind- her own had been shocked into blissful silence for the time being. She had to admit, she never in a million years would have guessed that he would have made that move. She had never even thought that her own feelings were reciprocated by him. “I’ve been considering doing that all night.”

She moved closer to him, rising up on tiptoe to once again press her lips more gently against his, a ghost of the kiss they had previously shared. Pulling away once again, she smiled at him- a pretty smile that she had graced no one else with.

[/b][/color] : 621
NOTES : Listening to: God Help the Outcasts- Hunchback of Notre Dame NOTES: I totally read this at work and was mad I couldn't reply then. xD
TAGS : Galahad
LYRICS : e.t. katy perry
CREDIT : glen coco // callie
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[Galahad]

The kiss was like the sweetest more fine wine that Galahad had ever tasted. Alowyn’s lips were so thick and full against his and her scent flooded his nostrils making him know and sense nothing but this beautiful woman. In the end it was only the sheer need for breath that caused Galahad to break the kiss and he could have cursed his lungs for not holding out a little longer. As he moved back he looked into Alowyn’s eyes trying to gauge her reaction, half waiting for her to slap him but praying to the gods she would not!

“You never told me you could read minds,” “I do hope that’s not how you greet every woman in your company.” “I’ve been considering doing that all night.”

“Really?!” Galahad breathed with a hint of a laugh in his voice. The faint hint of red swept across Galahad’s cheeks and he looked down at his feet for a moment before he raised his eyes and locked them with Alowyn’s beautiful orbs. “I’ve wanted to do that for quite a while now!” He confessed with a slight chuckle.

As Alowyn rose to her tip toes Galahad more than willingly lowered his head, his eyes fluttering closed briefly as the blond brushed her lips against his. He could feel sparks flickering through his lips and he opened his eyes to smile down at Alowyn. Galahad let his thumb brush over her cheekbone before he boldly let his hand slide down across her shoulder, down her arm and his fingers paused as they brushed against the blondes.

“And yet you stay “You have your papers- if you wanted, you could leave. What makes you stay?” “I fight because I know nothing else.”. “I don’t want to raise children in a world where things like what happened to me are possible. No child deserves that.”

“I stay because…” Galahad looked down at his hand and he boldly moved his fingers so that he could interlace them with Alowyn’s. “I stay because it’s been almost twenty years since I saw my home. I don’t even know if my mother is still alive! I know nothing of my sisters… my people, my home… it all could have changed and where would I be then? A stranger in a strange land just as I am here. I….” Galahad paused again, why was he saying this? Everything he had thought and felt since agreeing to stay in Britain. He had not even told Gawain, his best friend, any of this. “I stay because I want to make a difference. I’m sick of killing, I want to help, I want to make a better life for the people of this fort… a better life for myself.”

It was raw but it was the truth. No one but Galahad knew those words, no one that is until now. Galahad snorted loudly and looked down at his boots. Shaking his head he looked up at Alowyn the faint hint of a smile on his lips. “Look what you do to me! Not even Gawain knows my thoughts….”

(Sorry I rearranged things so that Galahad could reply to everything Alowyn was asking him. I hope this is okay?)

[Alowyn of Wessex]

Alowyn couldn’t help but smile, letting her sword drop to the ground without much thought. As he took one hand, she was so bold as to take his other, lacing her fingers with his.

“I’ve wanted to do that for quite a while now!”

“Why didn’t you?” She asked curiously, raising her gaze from their entwined hands to look up at him. Alowyn had had no idea he held her in any regard until this evening, despite her own feelings. She had been more than willing to remain politely aloof, given that a lot of people didn’t trust her due to what she was. Though she was trying to be an ambassador for her people, Alowyn did not like to force her company on anyone who would not welcome it. Galahad had never shown any interest, and as such, Alowyn kept to herself and to his friends that didn’t mind her. Apparently she had been mistaken.
His flush made her grin, and she took back one of her hands, raising it to touch his cheek gently. “You have a nice smile.” She said, her fingers light against his skin. If anyone had suggested this is where her evening would end up, she would have laughed and called them mad. Never had she anticipated this. She still wasn’t sure what to make of any of it, or what the morning would bring- how would this change either of them, or would it be as if it never happened? She found that while the matters were definitely going to be food for thought later, right now Alowyn simply did not care. She wanted to remain present in this moment and worry about the rest later.
“I stay because it’s been almost twenty years since I saw my home. I don’t even know if my mother is still alive! I know nothing of my sisters… my people, my home… it all could have changed and where would I be then? A stranger in a strange land just as I am here. I….”

When his voice trailed off, Alowyn gave his hand a gentle squeeze. She recognized in his fears her own- how could either of them ever hope to go home and manage? Better yet, how could she ever go home and live with just a memory of this sweet man, but no hopes of ever pursuing anything more?

“I stay because I want to make a difference. I’m sick of killing, I want to help, I want to make a better life for the people of this fort… a better life for myself.”

“I do as well.” She admitted quietly. “I don’t even want the throne, to be honest. I just can’t afford not to take it. There’s so many people suffering under Cenric, people that I can help. But at the end of the day, all I want is to settle down quietly, have children, and enjoy my life. I don’t like fighting- but I will.”
“Look what you do to me! Not even Gawain knows my thoughts….”

Alowyn laughed softly. “That’s the true Saxon weapon,” she joked. “We make people spill their souls to us, so we can use it against them later. No swords necessary.” She absently ran her thumb back and over the back of his hand, wanting very much to wrap her arms around him and never let go. “I won’t tell anyone, if it makes you feel better. Any of it, if that’s what you’d like.” She glanced back up at him, her expression hard to read.

[/b][/color] : 594
NOTES : Listening to: Not a thing... NOTES: It's okay.
TAGS : Galahad
LYRICS : e.t. katy perry
CREDIT : glen coco // callie
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[Galahad]

Those eyes, there was something about those eyes that Galahad could not look away from. Alowyn was beautiful, most certainly the most beautiful woman Galahad had ever seen, but it was those eyes that drew him to her. Blue-grey orbs that shone out from pale skin. On the surface they glittered and smiled but deeper in… there was a mysterious depth to them, something hidden, something so much more. Galahad found himself wanting to know everything, to find out more about Alowyn and her life and what was hidden within those beautiful eyes.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because… Why would you have any interest in me?” Galahad asked, trying to cover the hint of self deprecation in his words with a shrug and a lift of his eyebrows. Women tended not to look at him first; it was just the way things had always been. Not to say that he had not had his fair share of experience with women, mostly unpaid thank you very much Lancelot! But it was just that if a woman was looking for a man they tended to go for Lancelot or Gawain over him. He just never seemed to have the right words to say to put himself out there.

“You have a nice smile.”

Galahad’s grin returned and he savoured the feeling of Alowyn’s long delicate fingers brushing against his cheek. “Shouldn’t it be I that’s complimenting you on your beautiful smile?” Galahad asked his grin turning into a cheeky smile. “Which I must say is the most beautiful smile I have ever laid eyes upon.” Tacky perhaps but at least it was true.

“I do as well.” “I don’t even want the throne, to be honest. I just can’t afford not to take it. There’s so many people suffering under Cenric, people that I can help. But at the end of the day, all I want is to settle down quietly, have children, and enjoy my life. I don’t like fighting- but I will.”

Her words resounded with great meaning and Galahad could easily relate to them. He longed for a simple life, a life which he knew he probably could never have. To marry, if any woman would take him as he was, to have children and raise them to be good and strong. He fought because he had to, not because he wanted to. He never wanted to kill unless it was to save one of his brothers in arms. To settle down sounded like a wonderful idea but Galahad could not help but wonder if that was ever truly possible for him now. His weapons were as much a part of his body as his arms and legs were. Life could be so cruel and unfair and yet there were times, like this, that he was grateful to still be breathing.

“That’s the true Saxon weapon,” “We make people spill their souls to us, so we can use it against them later. No swords necessary.” “I won’t tell anyone, if it makes you feel better. Any of it, if that’s what you’d like.”

“I much prefer that weapon over a sword” Galahad said with a grin. He let go of Alowyn’s hand and raised his own, brushing the back of his knuckles across her high cheekbone. “After all these years of fighting who would have ever thought that it would be a Saxon Princess that disarmed me….” Galahad grinned, "although you could have done better than falling for an ex slave... not that I'm complaining in the slightest!

(OOC: I hope this is okay hun?)

[Alowyn of Wessex]

“Because… Why would you have any interest in me?”

Whatever Alowyn had expected, that certainly wasn’t it, and she frowned at him. “Why wouldn’t I?” She returned, not even a moment’s hesitation holding her back. Alowyn prided herself on being an extremely honest person- she might be impatient and intimidating at times, but she never lied if she could help it. If she didn’t want to be in his company, she would have dismissed herself long before now to return to the safety and solitude of her rooms. If she had wanted to be with Gawain or Lancelot, that was where she would have been, and she never would have allowed him to touch her so forwardly. “Galahad, if I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be. It’s that simple. I like you, and I like being here right now. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“Shouldn’t it be I that’s complimenting you on your beautiful smile? Which I must say is the most beautiful smile I have ever laid eyes upon.”

A small laugh bubbled from her lips and she shook her head. She had been complimented many times before, by many different men, but none of them had been incredibly sincere in their compliments, unlike him. To have someone say something like that to her and actually mean it flattered her to no end. “You are too kind.”

She raised a hand to push back a strand of her golden hair that had escaped her braid, wondering what he was thinking. For someone that expressed his feelings so openly on his face, he was incredibly hard to read. As she spoke of longing for a home of her own, she thought she saw understanding in his dark eyes, and for some reason, that gave her hope beyond any words he could have offered her. Perhaps we are not so different after all.

“I much prefer that weapon over a sword”

“You’ll find that words cut just as deeply as knives, I’m afraid.” She replied with an amused tone. “Sometimes more sharply.”

“After all these years of fighting who would have ever thought that it would be a Saxon Princess that disarmed me… although you could have done better than falling for an ex-slave... not that I'm complaining in the slightest!”

“I suppose I’m sneaky like that.” She smiled, leaning into his hand as he touched her cheek. With the people she trusted, Alowyn was very much a physical being- she liked the reassuring warmth of touch, and she was always quick to give it to those she loved, though those sort of people had been few and far between for a while. She scrunched her nose as he continued. “I don’t care who you were in the past, or what you may or may not have done. My hands aren’t clean, either. Whether or not you were a slave does not matter to me, just as the fact that I am a princess- a deposed one, at that- should not matter to you. I have no intention of treating you any differently because of it.” She held his gaze for a moment longer to prove she was serious before raising up to kiss him again, sweetly. “To me, you are simply Galahad. I am Alowyn. Nothing else- and I do mean nothing else- matters. I am yours, so long as you want me.”

[/b][/color] : 587
NOTES : Listening to: Not a thing... NOTES: I know, right?
TAGS : Galahad
LYRICS : e.t. katy perry
CREDIT : glen coco // callie
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[Galahad]

“Why wouldn’t I?” “Galahad, if I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be. It’s that simple. I like you, and I like being here right now. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Alowyn’s words actually shocked Galahad and he stood there for a moment staring down at the blond woman. Why wouldn’t she? Because in his experience women always went for Lancelot first, or Gawain. Galahad just… he never had seemed to have much luck with women. Yes he’d had his fair share over the years he had been here but he had never been with a woman as utterly stunning or as intricate as Alowyn. She was… she was everything that Galahad could have ever dreamed in a woman and then so much more. She was smart and beautiful and she already seemed to get him in a way that no other woman had ever done before.

“You’ll find that words cut just as deeply as knives, I’m afraid” “Sometimes more sharply.”

“Then I shall make sure to be very careful with my words” Galahad said with a smile, but the tone of his voice told Alowyn that he was genuine and sincere about what he had just said. The last thing he would want to do was hurt her, especially because he was at times known to open his mouth and say the first thing that came to his mind. He found himself wanting to spare Alowyn anymore pain, already he knew she had suffered a great deal due to Cedric. He wanted to keep her from more harm, to give her the peace and happiness that she seemed to want.

“But I shall not be held responsible for the things my lips do” Galahad said in a low very cheeky tone. “For around you they seem to have a mind of their own.” With that he leaned forward again, stealing another brief kiss from Alowyn. Her lips were soft and he could not help but savour how they felt against his own.

“I don’t care who you were in the past, or what you may or may not have done. My hands aren’t clean, either. Whether or not you were a slave does not matter to me, just as the fact that I am a princess- a deposed one, at that- should not matter to you. I have no intention of treating you any differently because of it.” “To me, you are simply Galahad. I am Alowyn. Nothing else- and I do mean nothing else- matters. I am yours, so long as you want me.”

“Always” Galahad found himself whispering, the words as surprising to him as they probably were to Alowyn. It was just him and her, Galahad and Alowyn. No past, no present, no slavery or Princess… just the two of them for as long as they wanted and needed each other. Moving his hand Galahad let it slip behind Alowyn’s golden hair and he gently cupped the back of her head as he leaned in and kissed her deeply and passionately. His other hand moved to her side, boldly pulling Alowyn’s body to his until they were pressed flush together.

(OOC: Okay I am totally loving these two!)