'At some point in the last century the word Faerie has been used to describe many creatures in this world. Who here can tell me what are the two criteria for something to be classified as a Faerie?'

A few hands rose up, leaving Gawain proud. Smiling, he raised his chalk and pointed one at a child in the back. 'Yes Bedivere.'

The boy rose up and patted himself down, fixing his shorts. He cleared his throat before replying. 'A Faerie is a creature of magic, but the term is used loosely. There are the original faeries who fought in the Great War centuries ago against the Dragons. These are the ones whom the term was originally used on, creatures of magic that can be influenced by the whims of the Yennibwyd which is why the term Faerie has become so loose. In order to be classified as a Faerie the creature must possess both sentience and ability to think on a level of a human, elf or dwarf and possess great reserves of magic.'

'Perfect answer,' exclaimed Gawain, surprised by such a comprehensive answer. 'Give a round of applause for Bedivere everyone.' He saw the boy blush a bit from embarrassment as the class clapped. As soon as Bedivere sat down, Gawain turned back to the blackboard and began sketching a creature he knew too well. 'Now that random quiz is out of the way. Today in class we will be learning about the Wyvern and its cousins. Who here can tell me what allows a Wyvern to fly despite its heavy looking body?'

As he drew the diagram of the Wyvern, the sound of chalk on slate now very familiar to him, he heard a chair move and someone placing their hands on their table.

'Sir. In the textbook it said that some Wyverns could breathe fire. Is this true?'

Gawain stopped drawing. His chalk did not touch the black board, before he slowly turned his head and spoke the class. 'There were Wyverns who could do that. A rare species which terrorized dwarven villages and towns, until a party of Geats killed them.'

'They must have been quite brave to do that.'

'Indeed they were, but none as brave as the one who inspected them up close,' smiled Gawain as he continued to draw the Wyvern. 'Alright class, turn to page 50 of the Bestiary by Osgar Lulachson.'

'Sir Gawain!'

Turning around Gawain saw the angry face of his co-worker. 'Let me guess Ms Marian,' he sighed as he walked forward and tossed her his chalk. 'My children.'

'Indeed,' she huffed, fixing her dress. 'As a teacher at this prestigious Academy and a revered alumni, you should instruct them better.'

Scratching the back of his head Gawain laughed, 'they take after their old man, that is for sure. Cut them slack Marian, their uncle's wedding is tomorrow.'

'Excuses matter not,' she replied indignantly, glaring at him. For ten years he has taught here, and not once has he grown up in her eyes.

'You need to let children be children.'

Grinning, Gawain turned back and yelled into his classroom, 'class is over children. Go crazy.'

'Sir Gawain!' cried Ms Marian as she was soon swarmed by children rushing out of the classroom. 'I say! Sir Gawain take that back at once! Sir Gawain!'

'Bedivere!' called Gawain, waiting for the boy to catch up to him. The child reached Gawain and walked alongside him. Bending down Gawain whispered into the child's ear and said, 'make sure they do not go overboard.'

'Yes sir!' replied the boy earnestly as he dashed off to join his classmates. While still within earshot, Gawain could hear the boy talking animatedly about different creatures he had read about.

'So the legacy continues,' laughed Gawain as he walked out of the academy to where he knew he would find his children and their best friends. 'They take after me too well, I should have never told them about that place.'

◊◊◊

'These tarts are really good.'

'I told you they were. Old man Renfrew makes the best tarts in all of New Camelot, maybe even all of Avalon.'

'I doubt it, my uncle can make a delicious pie.'

'Well, we have not eaten your uncle's pie so its this tart against your word.'

'I'll make it one of these days, you will see.'

'Then would not that make it your pie?'

'Shut up Percy. Go back to the Academy if you are going to continue to read in here.'

'Lay off him Bors. Just because you are a few years older doesn't give you the right to bully him!'

'Then stop giving me reason to! You keep protecting him, he needs to stop being such a bookworm.'

'Alright you two, enough,' said Halega as she pushed the two apart. Bigger than the two of them, as the eldest she kept these two from killing each other. Dark red hair, bordering on brown with hazelnut eyes, she thanked her Northman strength in these times.

The two bickering were Dindrane daughter of Gawain and Bors son of Morris. The two had basically grown up together, and constantly bickered no matter what. She had come later, when her uncle who knew Dindrane's father introduced her to them. 'Percy, do you want some of the tarts? Before Bors eats them all.'

'Hey!'

Looking up from his book, the small boy fixed his glasses before closing it. Shuffling forward, he reached for the plate of tarts before stopping mid grab. Casting a glance around the small furnished room, bought and fixed up by his father, he felt something off.

'Percy?' asked his sister as she watched his sudden halt.

The boy slowly placed his ear to the ground and listened carefully, feeling the vibrations of the room and the road outside. He heard the familiar echoing of footsteps coming towards them, before he signaled the other three. 'Father is coming.'

'Lets go fast,' said Bors, as he got to his feet and hauled Haelga and Dindrane. 'We can escape him on the rooftops.'

'How are we going to get there?' asked Dindrane as she shoved the tarts into a bag and tied it around her waist.

'I asked my dad to install a ladder,' laughed Bors as he casually kicked the side of the wall. With a clatter, a extendable ladder fell down from the roof above. 'he said it was about time his old hideout had a upgrade.'

'Lets go,' said Percival poker-faced as he shoved aside Bors and began climbing the ladder.

'Wait a minute...'

'Your father is quite sneaky,' chuckled Haelga as she followed Percival.

'Hold on I wanted to...'

'See you up there Boring,' laughed Dindrane as she followed Haelga. Looking up she saw Percival open a hatch to the roof, with sunlight blinding her slightly.

'One of these days Dins, one of these days,' swore Bors as he climbed after her.

Standing on the roof of the hideout, Percival, Haelga, Dindrane and Bors all looked slowly over the edge. Hoping Gawain could not see them, they held their breaths as they watched him stop before the door.

'He cannot see us right?' asked Haelga.

'Not from this angle he should not,' confirmed Bors.

'Well that is the end of it,' sighed Percival as he just lay back. Landing heavily on the roof, he lay against the warm roof. 'we are already caught.'

'What are you talking about?' hissed Bors, as he turned on the small child. Looking at Percival with annoyance, he saw the boy had lifted his hand and was pointing at something to their right.

'Why are you not in class? Bors? Percival? Dindrane even, I expected better of you my dear.'

'How does he do that?' muttered Haelga to Dindrane.

The Green Knight was standing on the next door rooftop, his green wyvern skin cloak flapping in the wind. He was smiling gently as he saw the shocked faces of the children.

'That is my dad for you,' sighed Dindrane as she joined her brother on the tiled roof, sleeping next to him. 'Move a bit Percy.'

Landing on the roof of the hideout, Gawain looked at them before chuckling. 'Did you think you could run away from me? You are a few hundred years too early. Hello Haelga, how is your dad?'

'Still building the Inn sir,' replied the girl meekly, as this man towered over her. 'we decided to call it the Black Stallion.'

'I hope you will be selling your uncles Fire Rum? I have gained a strange appreciation for the taste. Next time I head to Freysguard, I really should pay Ragnar a visit.' Reaching out he ruffled her hair before turning on Bors. 'Bors...'

Bors gulped as he awaited punishment. As the eldest boy, he was probably going to take the brunt of the punishment. Even worse since he had goaded Dindrane and Percival to follow him.

'Based on how sweaty you are, and the fact you dragged Percival into this means it was something that required a bit of thought. Now I smell a hint of strawberry on you, which means only one thing.'

Percival opened his eyes as he heard his father's deduction. While it was always on point, it never failed to amaze him how he was able to deduce what they had been up to.

'Morris has recently begun talking about when we were kids, complaining his son was growing up to fast. This leads to me believe he must have told you about our own hijinks as kids. So let me make a deal with you.' Squatting before Bors, he made eye level with the child before pointing towards Dindrane. 'I will assume this never happened if you hand me those tarts.'

'Huh?'

'It has been a while since I had Renfrew's tarts,' explained Gawain as he stood back up. 'I might as well visit the old man, and pay for you thievery.'

Bors stood there shocked, turning to Percival and Dindrane with a look that said. 'Can you believe this? Is this really happening?'

'That is dad for you,' laughed Dindrane as she handed Gawain the bag of tarts. 'We will be home late.'

'5.'

'7.'

'6.'

'Deal, but make sure Haelga and Bors make it home too.'

'Alright.'

'Good girl. Percival make sure your sister adheres to this rule.'

Percival just nodded, before closing his eyes again. He heard Gawain leap off the roof and land heavily on the cobblestone road below.

'Now what?' asked Haelga as she waved a hand in front of a frozen Bors.

'Shall we go play with Gringolet?' said Percival.

'Can we! Please can we!' burst Dindrane, her eyes sparkling. She loved that Drake to death, it was so cute.

'Huh...oh sure...what happened?' muttered Bors

'You froze like a deer in candelight,' laughed Haelga as she slammed her palm into his back.

'Shall we call Galahad?'

'Do we want that gloomy guy,' groaned Dindrane, 'I do not like how he is so serious about everything.'

'And he does not like how rash and impulsive you are,' retorted Bors, gaining a bit of his former self back.

'Say that to my face fatso.'

'I did say it to your face.'

'Enough you two!'

◊◊◊

It was the dawn of a new day, the bright sun shining down on the preceding's happening below its gaze. It was a special day for two people, one the son of a knight and the other the daughter of a merchant. Their white and gold decorations lines a small part of the fields outside of New Camelot. Bright white tables dotted the lush green grass, with sashes hung from erected marble pillars. A small raised platform lay at the end, where bright yellow flowers bloomed around it. Men and women ran around preparing the summer wedding, some talking to the chefs and others fixing small ornaments and setting tables.

One man stood amidst this chaos, directing the flow of people as he tried to make everything as perfect as he could. He conducted the men like he instructing an orchestra, with accuracy and delicacy.

'The gold napkins are arranged like swans please! Put that vase full of sunflowers over by the third pillar next to the refreshment table. Is the veal cooked yet? Come on people we have only a few hours before noon!'

Walking through the crowd of people, Gawain was not particularly dressed for the occasion. He wore the same clothes he wore to work every day, a green wyvern skin cloak, worn leather boots and black long sleeved tuning beneath everything.

'Really Brother, like this?'

'If it is not broken why fix it?' chuckled Gawain as he reached out and hugged his younger brother. 'You are working yourself to death here.'

'Everything needs to be perfect for this day. I promised her that her dream...no, our dream wedding will go off without a hitch.' replied Gareth, as he took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat off his brow. 'It has not been easy.'

'Who is coming? You did not make it seem like this was going to be a big affair.' Looking around, Gawain could not help but wonder how much his brother had spent on this.

'Some of my batch mates, a few of her friends and family. Gaheris is coming back for the first time in a while, with his wife as well.'

'Oh that is nice to hear,' replied Gawain, 'If I recall her name was Sythaeryn yes?'

'You are one of the few men in this kingdom to say her name so casually,' chuckled Gareth nervously. 'That Elvish Enchantress is not one to be trifled with.'

'Didn't she call you a drunkard when she met you for the first time?'

Spluttering, Gareth turned red before raising his pitch slightly, 'that was all Gaheris, alright. He kept on filling my cup when I was not looking.'

'Sure,' grinned Gawain before he felt something was off. 'What is wrong?'

'It is just...its about Agry, Gawain. He never got over Cery's rejection to him. Even now he refuses to give up...his pride cannot handle it. He has not been home in weeks, staying in an inn or in the barracks. Every time he sees me he scowls and gives me a death threat of a look. I am afraid he might do something drastic.'

Shaking his head, Gawain patted Gareth on the back. ' You are just nervous Gareth, I do not think he will do something like that. He has a level head on him, he will eventually learn to move on.'

'Sometimes I fear that who you see and who I see are two completely different people.'

Feeling the atmosphere plummeted, Gareth's pinpoint accuracy on reading people had not lessened in the slightest. His words echoed eerily within Gawain, making him open his eyes to something he had always seen the same. Taking a moment, he sighed before decided that amidst this chilly lull it was a good time to do what he had come for. 'Sit here with me, I have something to give you.'

Pulling out a chair, Gawain sat at a table and waited for Gareth to sit as well. Reaching into his pockets, he pulled out an old and battered ring case and held it in his hands for a while. Rotating it in his hands for a while, he took a deep breath before holding it out to Gareth.

'You told me to handle the rings, saying you wanted them in engraved dwarven gold...would you settle for cheap silver?'

Slowly reaching out, Gareth took the case like he was holding Excalibur. With both curious fear and apprehension, he slowly opened the case and saw the polished silver rings within. Looking up he saw Gawain's eyes, slightly watery, before gently shutting the box close.

'I never got to use it. But I do not think it is healthy for me to keep holding onto it. It is about time a true husband and wife wore it, about time it did what it was made to do. I am sure she would also agree.'

Gareth knew full well this 'she' was not referring to Cerys, but his former nanny.

'Are you sure about giving this to me?' asked Gareth, as he gripped onto the box, as of afraid it would disappear from his hands.

'I always thought Agravaine was the one most like me,' began Gawain, wiping a tear from his eye. 'but I can now say firmly that no one has ever been more alike me than you. You are a true knight Gareth, not a genius like Agravaine, not a brilliant thinker like Gaheris...'

'Thank you?'

'But you have my heart. The heart of a knight, the heart of a man who carries love within it. Who was willing to sacrifice his life despite all the odds against him. You are a better than me than when I was your age, I still did not know how to grow up. My Master once said that in order to see a dream prosper, you must give it away. Who better to give my dream to, but my own brother. Have a life I never could.'

'I promise to make her the happiest person in this world.'

'Should not you be saying that to her,' laughed Gawain, before him and Gareth broke out into side splitting chuckles.

Inhaling deeply, Gawain stood up and patted his robes. Looking at Gareth he smiled before walking off, waving as he did so. As soon as his face was out of Gareth's sight, his smile disappeared and turned sour. Scowling he began walking back towards the city gates, a bad feeling settling deep within his bones. Green energy flashed as he opened his eyes, the green fleur-de-lis on his arm pulsing as he channeled magic.

'Do not do anything stupid Agravaine.'

◊◊◊

Soon the noon sun shone down upon the wedding, men and women dressed in their finest clothes to celebrate the union of two souls. It was a fairly small occasion, with around a hundred or so people but with the energy and fervor of half a thousand.

'How are you!'

'It has been a while Gareth, seems like you have all grown up.'

'Indeed,' replied Gareth, his face fresh after the prior setup. As he shook hands with his guests, like many of his kind, he sensed the approachment of his twin.

Walking through the crowds, with a blazingly white cloak with silver trimmings was Gaheris. His neatly trimmed beard added finesse to his conventional mage look, a look he did intentionally for he was the opposite of conventional. After studying amongst the mages of Scientia, he had decided to leave their ranks and strike it out on his own. After that he simply followed the flow of the Yennibwyd, becoming hailed as the White Phoenix.

Walking by his side was his beautiful wife, the elvish sorceress Sythaeryn. She was quiet, her lower face veiled by a strip of purple cloth. Her silver hair was split into two, the lower half tied into braids while the top half was turned into a ponytail. She wore royal purple robes, similar to her husbands with silver trimmings as well. In her hands she carried a gnarled oak staff from her homeland of Tir O Gamt or Alfheim.

As they passed by people, the whispered in curiosity and inevitable jealousy. They whispered of the two mages, who seemed to bring forth both calmness and chaos within their wake. Magic seemed to hang off of them, the fluttering of the robes caused not by the wind but the movement of the Yennibwyd around them all.

'Gaheris!' roared Gareth as he spotted his brother.

'Gareth, get over here!' laughed Gaheris as he opened his hands for his brother.

Gareth slowly walked forward, his also outstretched. As he got close enough to go in for the hug, he feinted and jokingly slugged Gaheris in the stomach causing his twin to bend over. 'You were supposed to be here...'

'...yesterday. Yes I know, lay off will you,' chuckled Gaheris as he got back up like nothing had happened. 'What can I say, the Yennibwyd guided me elsewhere.'

'Just for that I canceled the soft pudding you so enjoy.'

'Really?'

'He just did not want to help in the organization, Gareth,' stepped in Sythaeryn, her gentle voice juxtaposed to her cold and harsh looks. 'I see that you look decent for once.'

'If you are expecting me to wear a suit every time you visit me in my family home, you are sorely mistaken Enchantress.'

'Oh my dear brother-in-law when will you ever call me by my name?' she chuckled as she walked past him to go to where the bride was getting ready.

'When you stop trying to turn me into a toad!' he called after her, before his brother broke out into laughter. 'Why what is wrong?'

Wheezing, Gaheris keeled over and had to support himself on Gareth. 'One of the laws of magic, you cannot turn a living thing into something else. We have just been saying so to annoy you.'

'You sick bastard...I hope you choke on the soft pudding.'

'Hah. There was pudding, you liar.' Getting back up, Gaheris looked around the wedding area and noted a few things. 'Where are Gawain and Agravaine?'

'No idea,' replied Gawain.

Leaping out of his skin, Gaheris clutched his heart as he saw that his elder brother had snuck up on him. 'Good lord, Gawain. How do you keep sneaking up on me? I can sense everyone from here to Lirsgate with a glimmer of magic but you and your kids always evade me.'

'Lucky I guess,' shrugged Gawain as he let go of Dindrane and Percival's hands. 'Why don't you two go look for your Aunt. I know Sythaeryn likes you Percival. Dindrane...just do not break anything.'

'Sure.'

'Uncle Gaheris, you are answering all my questions later,' promised Percival as he went after his sister.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Gaheris exhaled. 'I know you, I knew Sir Bertilak as my headmaster...who does he take after?'

'Clearly neither,' laughed Gawain. 'Dindrane is much more like me, but she still recalls fragments of her father.'

'So Percy does not know?' asked Gaheris, too which both Gareth and Gawain nodded.

'Dindrane has not seen fit to tell him, so neither did I. I will tell him when he enters his teenage years...or if Dindrane lets it slip. But for now let him be the son of a teacher, before the son of a martyr.'

'So does Dindrane know what happened that night?' asked Gaheris.

'She recalls bits and pieces. But mostly of it is blank, the doing of my liege no doubt.'

'It should be fine,' assured Gareth, patting his elder brother on the back. 'You are a fine father Gawain, I do not think anything bad could come from it.'

'Now you are just asking for trouble,' said Gaheris, hitting his brother on the back of the head, 'you need to stop running your mouth sometimes.'

'Oi.'

'Still a bickering bunch aren't you all,' laughed Morris, as he walked in with Bors and his wife by his side. 'Some things never change.'

'Well I will take my leave for now,' said Gareth as he grabbed Gaheris by the collar and dragged him away.

Chuckling Gawain was at ease knowing that despite how it looked, Gareth was enjoying himself, his stress from earlier gone completely. Turning to Bors he nodded in the direction in which Dindrane and Percival had gone off, smiling as he dashed off.

'Thank you again for all your help Nia,' said Gawain, turning to Morris's wife.

'You really need to stop saying that every time you see me,' she laughed, 'I swear, it has been a pleasure. Dindrane is a wonderful girl, and Percy is as sharp as an arrow. The two of them ae much easier to control than my own son...takes too much after his father.'

'Hey.'

Ignoring Morris, Nia continued, 'it must not be easy as a single father. Helping out my husbands best friend is no trouble on my part.'

'Hello? What about my contributions?'

Turning on him, she grabbed his ear and pulled him towards her. 'All you do is transfer your bad habits to Bors and then to them. You still have not grown up much Morris.'

'Ouch...ouch...Nia...darling...please...there are people.'

Feeling the release of his ear, Morris rubbed it. 'Corwyn said he was sorry for not making it in time. He will visit later tonight, still stuck in Lirsgate due to a shipping error.'

'He will show up eventually,' shrugged Gawain. Taking a moment, he stopped talking and heard something. 'I think the ceremony will be starting soon.'

'Shall we take our place?' asked Morris, pointing to a table at the front.

'You go sit, I will be there shortly,' said Gawain, walking past Morris as he subtly grabbed a carving knife from a nearby table. Placing it in his robes, he wished he had brought Galatine. That sinking feeling was getting worse, Agravaine was nowhere to be seen. He had searched all of New Camelot, climbing to the top of New Camelot castle to see if he could sense his brother...only to come up empty. Had he left the city? No, he could not do that, he was a captain. So then where was he? By the time all the people had taken their place, Gawain had still found no sign of Agravaine.

Sitting in the front most table, he sat next to Morris and eyed where his children were sitting. They had chosen a place in he middle, far enough to not be disturbed but not close enough that their chatter will cause disturbance; chosen by Percival no doubt.

'Silence please everyone.'

Turning his gaze to the front of the wedding, Gawain's eyes raised as he saw who was overseeing the union. Still dressed in his white robes, was Gaheris who held aloft a small book. Leaning towards Morris he whispered, 'when did Gaheris become eligible to do this?'

'Not sure. I heard he had to learn it promptly in the south, near Nearon. Let us be honest, he looks the part,' chuckled Morris, sitting back.

'That he does,' admitted Gawain as he leant forward. Every muscle in his legs tightened, ready for him to spring into action. But what was he waiting for? Why was he so worried?

'My dear friends. Beneath the gaze of the sun, we are here to pay witness to the union of two souls in holy matrimony.'

'Oh no...he sounds so pretentious,' muttered Gawain as he tried to hold it in. Relaxing a bit, he leant back in his chair as he viewed the ceremony, trying not to break out into laughter.

'Gawain...if you laugh, I will not be able to hold it in either,' hissed Morris, his hands curled as he shook at the sides.

'We are here to witness the joining of Gareth Orkney and Cerys Elijah. Both of you, raise your hands.'

The barefoot bride and groom, raised their left and right hands respectively. The two paid no attention to anyone around them, their eyes focused on each other.

'Well we wanted this day to come for ages.'

'We did, didn't we.'

'To think it all started when I...'

'Now is not the time dear, that is for later.'

'Are you two finished?' joked Gaheris, smiling. Shutting the small book he tossed it behind his back, which caused a few gasps, and drew a bright red strip of ribbon from his pockets. Gently, he wrapped it around the two outstretched arms and tied it in a bow. Backing away, he once again dove into his pockets and took out the battered ring box. Opening it, he gestured for the bride and groom to open their free arms. He gave one ring to Gareth, waiting for his brother to put the silver ring on.

'You are forever stuck with me after this you know,' he chuckled, as he slowly put on the ring.

'Would not have it any other way,' she said, as she took back her ringed finger and opened her palm, feeling the second ring placed within. As she reached out to place the ring on Gareth, something stopped her.

'Cerys?' asked Gareth.

'Why is he coming here? Why is he coming on horseback?' she exclaimed, before she felt something cold slice the red ribbon and then press against her throat.

'CERYS!' yelled Gareth before he was flung aside.

Something large crashed through the tents and onto the raised platform. The entire wedding froze, all of them unable to move out of fear. Even Gawain, who was halfway out of his seat stopped. His fingers were curled around the hilt of the carving knife, yet he could not move. The clanking of metal echoed in the forced silence, the breathing of a horse echoed the footsteps of the heavily armored knight who walked towards the bride. Nothing about him was recognizable, from the armor to the dark tabard he wore. However the single most startling thing was the red eyes that poured out of the holes in the helm. They contained nothing but unbridled rage...rage that was very familiar to only two people present.

'Agra...!' began Gaheris, stepping in between the knight and Cerys, before being backhanded so fast that he flew off the stage and into the dirt where he lay.

His wife Sythaeryn, jumped to her feet before a dagger flew at her and impaled her in the shoulder. Clutching the hilt as blood soaked into her robes, she glared at the one who had thrown it at her. It was the same man who was holding a dagger to Cery's throat, with a maniacal grin on his face. It was as if his smile reached all the way up to his ears, his white teeth in full view from the side.

'Stay silent or I gut her elvish bitch.'

'What are you doing here Agravaine!' cried Cerys, as she slowly backed away. Turning her gaze from Agravaine, she turned to where Gareth was slowly getting to his feet, his face covered in blood. 'Dear! Are you alright?'

'Even in this place you show me disrespect,' hissed Agravaine as he shoved her against a pillar. Slowly he reached out and grabbed her by the neck, lifting her up with inhuman strength..

'Cerys!' cried Gareth, getting to his feet. As he moved forward, he tripped over something. Landing heavily on the floor, a boot pressed down on his back.

'Oho, cant let you do anything now,' cackled the owner, 'you see Sir Agravaine over there is the one talking now.'

'AGRAVAINE!' roared Gareth as he tried to get to his feet. This person was too heavy, unnaturally heavy. Cursing, he strained as he looked towards where his wife-to-be was being strangled by Agravaine. 'GET THE FUCK OFF ME!'

'You still never acknowledge me Cerys. Despite being the strongest knight, despite being the best you chose him over me. Do you know what you did Cerys...you damaged my pride.'

While Agravaine was going on his monologue, Gawain had shook off his shock and had begun to move. Flinging the table away, he dashed for Agravaine ready to strike. As he did, time moved slowly for him as he thought about what he was about to do. He was about to harm his own kin, his own brother. The same boy who had watched him for years, who had aspired to be greater than him...this was not greater. That split second hesitation cost him.

'Do you still deny me Cerys? Do you still think you should reject me?' roared Agravaine. 'Look at me Cerys, I have been chosen. I have been chosen for a greater purpose and I offer you a place beside me as I bring forth great change. I offer you this only once more, will you deny me like last?'

Looking at him dead in the eyes, the feeling of her throat being crushed at the forefront of her mind, she just spat. 'No matter how many lifetimes I go through, no matter what form I take. I will always deny you Agravaine...always. You will never be good enough, now live with that knowledge o prideful one. That you could never be a match.'

'Wrong answer...'

SNAP

'AGRAVAINE!' roared Gawain as he dashed forward, driving the knife into the side of his brother, watching as the blade snapped and fell. As the metal fell, it hit the wooden platform at the same time Cerys's body did.

'You disappoint me Gawain,' said Agravaine, as he reached out and grabbed Gawain by the head. As soon as he did so, Agravaine slugged Gawain in the stomach as hard as he could.

Falling to the floor, choking, Gawain's vision blurred as he activated his Blessing. Channeling it into his fist, he pushed off from the ground and leapt at Agravaine.

'Not this time knight of the faerie.'

Knives impaled Gawain as he fell to the floor. He had forgotten the other one! His blessing dissipated as the wounds refused to heal, forcing him to watch as Agravaine and the second man slowly got onto the horse.

'Hear this people of this red wedding, hear and tremble from my declaration. I Agravaine, no longer serve the false Queen or any who come after. When you hear my name, fear and death will soon follow.' Eyes blazing red, he gave one last look of derision before charging his horse towards the north, as fast as the wind.

'Gawain...we have a problem...'

'Fuck it all...' growled Gawain his eyes sparked, and the fleur-de-lis on his arm burned. Slowly getting up, he ripped the knifes from his body and let the blood fall to the ground. 'Why did I not trust my gut, I should have come armed to the teeth. Damn it...'

Walking slowly over to Gareth, Gawain's eyes glowed green but hid red. He had not seen this, he had felt it, but not seen it. Why did he not listen to Gareth? Why had he not seen what Agravaine was becoming, he knew the seed had been planted all those year's ago but he had blinded himself to the tree of death being grown.

'Alright my lady ... your orders.'

'Kill the Knight of Pride.'

Looking at Gareth, as he held his dead fiancé in his hands, Gawain slowly walked over to the fallen ring and picked it up. Holding it in his hands, it felt cold and lifeless...carrying the weight of two dead women, both with dreams. Carefully, he placed it on Cerys's corpse before looking at Gareth and began walking towards New Camelot.

'Where are you going?' asked Gaheris as he rubbed his face, his nose was bloody and had a cut across his forehead. He cast a glance to where his wife was being treated by one of the invited guests, and then back to Gareth. Yet he felt nothing from his twin, it was as if a hole had been dug. When he looked to Gawain...he saw a embodiment of rage and anger, beneath the calm.

Ignoring his brother, Gawain nodded to Morris and his wife, 'take care of my kids for a while. I have something I need to do.'

'Be careful Gawain,' said Morris before he joined his wife in shuffling the children away from the wedding.

'Gawain! Answer me!' asked Gaheris again.

'I am going to kill Agravaine Gaheris, I am going to have him answer for his crimes and then kill him,' replied Gawain under his breath. 'I want answers...and I have been instructed to do so. This is more than just Gareth, Gaheris. This is my failure as an elder brother, this is my fault.'

'Is that what you want?' asked Gaheris, shocked from the sheer bloodlust carried in the words. Yet he felt remorse, a bit of regret hanging off each letter.

Stopping Gawain did not look at his brother before saying, 'Sir Bertilak always questioned his instructions in the beginning. Until at some point he realized his tasks were always for the good of Avalon. It has been proven milady's judgement is correct time and time again. If she says Agravaine is as much a threat to have me, the Green Knight, kill him...then it has to be.'

'I am not asking the Green Knight, I am asking my elder brother.'

'No...I do not want to kill him. Some part of me wants him to innocent, to have been manipulated by that other man...but some part of me agrees this is where he was always heading.'

'His pride...'

'...will be his downfall.' Walking away, Gawain was not prepared for the journey ahead...nor was he ready for the fallout from his choices over two decades later.

'My failure as an elder brother has cost my family, my liege dictates I save Avalon from an oncoming disaster...my days are once more filled with hardships. I have grown pass seeking it, but it now seeks me. By my oath as a Knight of Avalon, a Knight of The Faerie Queen. I am my sword, I am a knight, I am a faerie!'

'I AM THE GREEN KNIGHT, DEFENDER OF AVALON!