eachdraidh | [ TEXT; BOTH COURTS ]

[ He lets out a low, humourless huff of laughter at that. Shakes his head in dismay. ]

I should think he would like that.

[ Lancelot imagines Faolan would enjoy discussing how difficult he is to work for, even if he did not truly mean it. ]

I am lucky to have such good friends in this place.

[A small smile crosses Diarmuid's face. The laugh might not be a full one, but it is still a step forward in Diarmuid's mind.]

Look at it this way... He and I plot to keep you alive, you and him plot to keep me alive, and then you and I make sure he never ends up having to do this again.

[Because who knows what the results of dying while shardless will be? Diarmuid, at least, would rather not anyone have to find out.]

We are lucky to have you as well. I have met so many great people here that no matter what happens, I will never regret having the chance to meet them.

[ Lancelot takes a slow sip of his drink, trying to steady himself a little, then reaches out with his free hand to clasp Diarmuid by the arm. ]

I feel the same.

[ The confession is soft, quiet, and he offers a tired smile before releasing the other knight -- holding his drink with both hands for something to do with them. ]

It is a strange thing, to feel you belong a place that is not your home by rights, but somehow it has happened without my realising.

[ In a way, it's uncomfortable to consider. What if Arthur returns? What if he returns to Camelot, having been here so long? So many considerations. His eyes slide sideways to the bandersnatch cub, who Lady is still considering with a mixture of curiosity and wariness even as her tail wags. ]

Who is your friend?

I know...

[Once Lancelot lets go of his arm, Diarmuid settles, cross-legged, onto the floor in front of him.]

On one hand, it makes me feel bad. I have vows to fulfill and things to do back home, but on the other hand, I am an outsider there. Being brought back into modern day like I was...nothing is...right anymore. It doesn't feel like home, but this place.... It is so much like my home that it hurts sometimes. I know I should be focusing on returning to my real home, but sometimes...I can't help but think that I wouldn't mind staying here forever either.

[It doesn't help that a version of his lord is here and also seems in no hurry to return back to the war. If Kayneth is not concerned, why should Diarmuid be? He frowns slightly as he thinks about how guilty those kind of thoughts make him feel sometimes. Thankfully, Lancelot's question is enough to distract him from his thoughts.]

That is Oscar. He is a bandersnatch cub I was given shortly after the Hunt for the White Hart ended.

[Diarmuid waves toward the cub and it wobble-runs over to him, crawling into his owner's lap without a second though.]

He's suppose to become an excellent hunting companion when he gets big. Right now, he's just a spoiled baby who likes stealing my cloak and my honey.

I've not seen such a creature before. Is he a bear of sorts, then?

[ The Bandersnatch, that is. He hesitates a moment before reaching to offer the creature a hand, smiling at its unsteady run and how easily it takes over Diarmuid's lap. It seems sweet natured, for now at least, although if it becomes as big as a bear it may be difficult to control. For now, at least, Oscar is blessedly small...]

I had not thought of hunting with much anything but a dog and a horse, if I am honest. How big will he grow?

While he is certainly bear-like, he isn't actually related to any kind of bear that I know of. One of my friends says there are creatures like him on her world and that they are rare here. I can't help but wonder if they were brought here somehow or if it just so happens this place has animals like her world does.

[Oscar sniffs Lancelot's hand and then proceeds to give it a big wet swipe of his tongue. Congratulations, Lancelot. You are now the proud owner of some bandersnatch drool.]

To be honest, I have the most experience hunting with dogs or birds myself. Learning to hunt with him will be different to say the least. I am told they get very large and some are even used as mounts.

[How something that large can hunt is beyond Diarmuid, but he is definitely willing to give it a try. After all, he has already grown quite attached to the little guy.]

[ He lets out a soft huff of amusement at the lick, wrinkles his nose a little and shifts to ruffle the animals fur with drool-coated fingers. It has the blessed effect of subtly wiping off said drool too, although he'll probably end up with fur stuck to his hand this way. Oscar, though, is doing a rather good job of being a distraction from Lancelot's troubles. He gets up after a second, sinks to the floor beside Diarmuid so he can be at the animals level -- which also means Lady can get at him now too. Everyone is on the floor! This is good. Everyone can be licked. ]

I suppose it is possible.

[ His voice is quiet, a little distant as he considers this and focuses on scritching behind Oscar's ears. Lady headbutts him after a moment, because he's meant to be paying attention to her and not the other animal, and he smiles and loops an arm around her affectionately. ]

That raises the question of what is native to this place. If those like us are constantly brought here -- do they all leave? Do some raise children? Perhaps most of those here are distantly related to people such as us, drawn into this chaos and struggling to make a life.

[Fortunately for Lancelot, Oscar isn't shedding that much, so his fingers come away mostly free of fur. However, as soon as the man joins them on the floor, Oscar tumbles out of Diarmuid's lap and tries to crawl up into Lancelot's instead. It seems he and Lady are of one mind. It is time to distract the sad knight with licks, cuddles and whatever else is necessary.

Diarmuid, for his part, just smiles at how they are ganging up on Lancelot.]

Considering how long this war has been going on, I would not be surprised if a majority of people are descended from those who were brought here. After all, once a person loses their shard, the connection to their world is cut. As I understand it, that means there is no going back home. There would be no other choice besides settling down. Well, settling down or finding someone who will help you to keep fighting.

[A thought pops into his head suddenly.]

I wonder if anyone has ever tried to find a way to reconnect a person to the world they were disconnected from when they lost their shard...

[ Ah, a lap full of animal. Lancelot hesitantly gathers Oscar closer, stroking down the animal's neck and back as he considers this until Lady starts to fight for the right to be in his lap.

There might be a small fight breaking out if they aren't careful. He eases Lady back distractedly, still frowning in thought. ]

I suppose, perhaps if the shard could be regained? Reynard has shown us that they can be used, even if they have been removed. If you regained your lost shard perhaps the connection could be rekindled?

[ A curious thought. ]

[Oh no, no, fuzzy children. No fighting. When Diarmuid sees that Lady is upset by Oscar taking her spot, he reaches out to move Oscar back into his lap. The cub makes a disgruntled sound since he liked the petting he was getting, but eventually he settles back down, especially when Diarmuid starts to pet him like Lancelot had been.]

Reynard is part of what made me wonder about it. He was so strong. Just think about a large group of people having the power of their shards, but no tie to a court...

[It sounds like the stuff of the monarchs' nightmares. On the other hand, to Diarmuid's neutral leanings, he's not sure it would be such a terrible thing. It would just depend on if people decided to act like Reynard had or if they took a more noble path...]

[ Lancelot's expression tells Diarmuid in an instant what he thinks of that idea. He takes a breath and holds it, arms coming around Lady as she clambers back onto him. His voice drops to something quiet but fierce. ]

Reynard should not be something to aspire to. There was nothing left of that man under the power he possessed. Whoever he was before it took him was long gone. Power seeks more power. How do you limit such a thing? How do you stay sure it is not misused? Reynard was thought a hero of the natives, yet even those I spoke to knew his actions were not entirely good and just. Knew his mind was lost. Power should not be the answer to peace. Such power undoes a man who tries to hold it, and then all we are left with are tyrants who answer a wrong with more wrongs. Who rule with intimidation and fear.

[When Diarmuid hears the tone of Lancelot's voice, he holds up his hands to calm him. Oscar makes what can only be called a calming sound as well.]

Easy, friend. I was there when Reynard died. I know none should aspire to be him. I did not finish that sentence because thinking on it too hard scares me, not because I think it would be a good thing. I actually worry about any...

[Yes, including the monarchs.]

...person gaining too many shards. It is better for our shards to remain here.

[Diarmuid places a hand over his chest.]

Better for us and better for the worlds we come from.

[ Lancelot does not particularly calm, however. The topic has clearly riled him and his fingers close into Lady's fur a little too tightly to be just nerves, memories making him shift uneasily. She nudges up under his chin, and he lets out a slow breath -- drops his face to press into her fur for a second. ]

When we fought outside Maupertius he had 12 such things. His glow was so bright you could barely look upon him, as if he were made of the power. His features slack, his focus barely there. The dead rose where he stepped, the mountains cracked behind him.

[It must have been terrifying facing that. Almost like facing one of the monarchs in battle...

Diarmuid reaches out to put a hand lightly on Lancelot's shoulder to comfort him. At the same time, Oscar makes a soft sound and headbutts Lancelot's knee with his head.]

He's gone now and we know better than to let another gain so many shards. The power...just takes them over, doesn't it? Just like it has some kind of mind of its own...

So it seems.

[ He hangs onto the dog a moment or two longer before steadying himself, easing his grip and letting Lady lick soothing at his cheek. Lancelot blinks, flinching a touch under the assault but doesn't dissuade her. ]

I have always believed power is no more good or evil than a sword. That it is the wielder that does right or wrong with it, yet... some power it not meant to be used.

I agree. Power itself generally is not good or bad. The thing is most power is made to be held only by one person or a few select people. Kings, queens, gods, peasants. It doesn't matter who the person is. If they are not the Fated wielder, things go wrong. The power starts to warp them into something they were never meant to be.

[While he isn't saying it directly, Diarmuid can't help but imply that he is worried about if the monarchs might end up being twisted by the power of the shards just as much as Reynard was. What makes them better candidates to hold such power?]

[ Lancelot nods, half lost in thought, wrangles Lady a little to turn her so he can rub at her tummy. She flops, tail wagging as he scratches at her chest for her. It is not very graceful or ladylike but never-mind. ]

How can we know who is fated to have such power? It is a fickle thing, fate. A friend of mine... he believed it was his destiny to protect his king using the magic he was born with. Yet... such things can be unclear. Every time his road took a fork he questioned himself. If his actions were right. If this was what destiny intended. If he should act or if there was something else in the plans of fate.

[Who cares about graceful when there are scratches and belly rubs to be had? Though, when Diarmuid notices Oscar watching Lady's wagging tail a little too closely, he gathers the cub up to make sure Lady's scratches don't end up being rudely disrupted.]

Fate is a strange thing. Some things are set in life, but we are also given freedom to make our own choices. I always looked at this way. It does not matter which path we take because if something is truly Fated to happen, it will happen no matter what we do. Worrying about if we are taking the right path to get to our Fate is a waste of time that we should be focusing on making the choices that will lead us to living without regrets instead. When the time is right, Fate will find us no matter what choices we have made.

[ He sighs a little, watching Lady wiggle her paws enthusiastically -- lifting his eyes long enough to spot Diarmuid gently guiding Oscar away before her tail gets pounced. ]

So what you are saying is I should worry less, perhaps?

[ he sounds ruefully amused at that, as if perhaps he may have been told such a thing before. ]

[Diarmuid can't help but find himself laughing at the question and the way Lancelot says it.]

Yes, as impossible a task as it is, I indeed think you should worry less.

[He tilts his head and winks jokingly at his friend.]

And if you find out a good way to do that, please let me know it as well...

[ He catches one of the wiggling paws, gives it a squeeze that makes lady struggle indignantly and keeps his eyes down on her as he answers. ]

I will do my best, if everyone around me will agree at the same time to stop doing things that make me worry.

[ Like dying. He takes a breath, lets it out slowly as he stares down at Lady. Lancelot isn't even sure he can make a half-hearted joke about that. His throat feels like it has seized up at the very thought, like words have escaped him entirely. He swallows hard, frowns as if he can shake off the feeling by concentration alone. ]

Edited 2015-03-02 01:42 (UTC)

It is not easy when you surround yourself with those so much like you. They understand you, but they also share your faults.

[It's a frustrating feeling. A helpless one too, much like Diarmuid feels now. He wants to be able to tell Lancelot his friends won't act as he fears they might if he only asks, but he knows that won't happen. There is no telling a knight not to be a knight.]

I think the best you can expect from them is that they will try and then if they fail, try not to be mad at them. All we can expect of anyone is that they will try their best. It is just sometimes, we all think that our best is something more than is should be...

So it seems.

[ Lady wiggles some more to free her paw and rolls back over -- climbs into Lancelot's lap again (even if she's a little big for such babying now) and he gently loops his arms around her. It is perhaps a little childish to hang on to her so, but Lady has always been there for him and he appreciates the comfort she brings. Her understanding of the situation may be simplified, but she knows she loves him and that his friend is gone. She can keep him warm and safe until his friend comes back. ]

In my home I served a king, and the king had a manservant more loyal than any other. He travelled with him everywhere, kept him from danger even when he did not know the danger was there. Before I was brought here... the veil between this world and the next had been ripped. The balance of things was undone, spirits roamed free and froze everyone they touched. The only way to close it was for someone to give their life to The Cailleach. Arthur planned to travel to the Isle of the Blessed and do so himself. It was his kingdom to protect, his duty in his eyes, but... I knew that Merlin planned to do so for him. He may have only been a manservant, but he was the bravest of all of us. It made me wonder if I could ever be so brave. He told me... You have to have a reason, something you care about. Something that's more important than anything.

[Diarmuid listens closely as Lancelot tells of his home and his fellows. The names are familiar to Diarmuid, though the stories he knows are slightly different. Merlin was no manservant in those, but then again, Arthur was also a woman.]

He's right, you know. He's absolutely right. When you have that reason, nothing will stop you. You might be scared. The odds might be long, but none of that matters. You will do what needs to be done because it needs to be done. In a way, it's a blessing and a curse.

[His eyes drop to Oscar, then, and grow distant as if he is thinking of the past. Oscar seems to understand he is sad and nudges his hand under his owner starts to pet him again.]

I died to protect those who depended on me. I died because I trusted someone who didn't trust me, but I don't regret it. Those people were finally safe and he...

...well, maybe he was finally able to let his pain and anger go...

[ He hesitates again, uncertain about sharing this much, eyes flitting between Lady and Diarmuid. ]

I thought I had that. I thought I had made my choice. I suppose... I did not expect that anyone would make the same choice on my behalf.

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