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tamingthemuseTitle: Storm
Fandom: Arthurian legends
Prompt: Prompt 370 - Storm
Warnings: None.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The Arthurian legends are in the public domain. I make no reference to any copyrighted work. So all is mine.
Beta: None, so any mistakes you see are mine.
Summary: It was as if the gods wanted to test him, to force him to retreat. The greyness and the cold hadn't work so they were trying another tactic.
Gawain looked up at the sky. It was still a variation of grey. It had been fives days with the full scale of black and grey being displayed in the sky. Gawain was beginning to feel disoriented because of it. This constant greyness made him lose track of time. He was becoming difficult to tell if it was morning of afternoon by looking at the sky. It was as if the clouds had swallowed the sun and he desperately wanted to see the sun, to feel its rays - however feeble - on his skin. He wanted to feel part of the land of the living instead of dreading having stepped in the land of the dead without noticing.
The day wildlife was disappearing and he could distinguish the first signs of the night crowd coming out. It was his cue to stop. He found a small spot under a big oak tree.
"Should we rest it for the night Gringolet?"
His horse didn't show any sign of having heard his master. Gawain sighed. He had started to speak to his horse as to a human a week earlier. It had been the start of his second week in the wilderness and he had been afraid he would lose his voice if he remained silent.
He started his nightly routine and soon had a fire going to cook the skinny rabbit he had caught earlier on but just as he finished preparing the rabbit he heard thunder. He looked up and in that instant rain poured down his face, splashing on the fire, extinguishing it.
The wind soon came and the sky was torn apart by rays of light.
Gawain retreated closer to the tree. He instinctively grasped the bridle of Gringolet as he stood up, bringing the horse closer to him, caressing him and whispering gently to him.
Gringolet was a good horse but thunder scared him.
It scared Gawain too.
The noise and the lights were too loud and too bright. It was unnatural in the grey quiet world he had inhabited for two weeks now. It was as if the gods wanted to test him, to force him to retreat. The greyness and the cold hadn't work so they were trying another tactic.
"I will not stop," yelled Gawain to the sky. "I will not stop," he repeated softly as if to convince himself.
He had known the journey to the Green Chapel would be difficult in the midst of winter but he was a knight and he had given his words. There were no way out. He couldn't give up, even if the gods threw impossible obstacle at him. He had to find the Green Knight and be true to their pact.
He stood a little straighter and walked away from the oak tree.
"Come on Gringolet, let's find a better shelter. We won't be able to get any sleep here."
He gathered his few possession, and started to walk off deeper into the forest where the thunder wouldn't be able to reach him.
Fandom: Arthurian legends
Prompt: Prompt 370 - Storm
Warnings: None.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The Arthurian legends are in the public domain. I make no reference to any copyrighted work. So all is mine.
Beta: None, so any mistakes you see are mine.
Summary: It was as if the gods wanted to test him, to force him to retreat. The greyness and the cold hadn't work so they were trying another tactic.
Gawain looked up at the sky. It was still a variation of grey. It had been fives days with the full scale of black and grey being displayed in the sky. Gawain was beginning to feel disoriented because of it. This constant greyness made him lose track of time. He was becoming difficult to tell if it was morning of afternoon by looking at the sky. It was as if the clouds had swallowed the sun and he desperately wanted to see the sun, to feel its rays - however feeble - on his skin. He wanted to feel part of the land of the living instead of dreading having stepped in the land of the dead without noticing.
The day wildlife was disappearing and he could distinguish the first signs of the night crowd coming out. It was his cue to stop. He found a small spot under a big oak tree.
"Should we rest it for the night Gringolet?"
His horse didn't show any sign of having heard his master. Gawain sighed. He had started to speak to his horse as to a human a week earlier. It had been the start of his second week in the wilderness and he had been afraid he would lose his voice if he remained silent.
He started his nightly routine and soon had a fire going to cook the skinny rabbit he had caught earlier on but just as he finished preparing the rabbit he heard thunder. He looked up and in that instant rain poured down his face, splashing on the fire, extinguishing it.
The wind soon came and the sky was torn apart by rays of light.
Gawain retreated closer to the tree. He instinctively grasped the bridle of Gringolet as he stood up, bringing the horse closer to him, caressing him and whispering gently to him.
Gringolet was a good horse but thunder scared him.
It scared Gawain too.
The noise and the lights were too loud and too bright. It was unnatural in the grey quiet world he had inhabited for two weeks now. It was as if the gods wanted to test him, to force him to retreat. The greyness and the cold hadn't work so they were trying another tactic.
"I will not stop," yelled Gawain to the sky. "I will not stop," he repeated softly as if to convince himself.
He had known the journey to the Green Chapel would be difficult in the midst of winter but he was a knight and he had given his words. There were no way out. He couldn't give up, even if the gods threw impossible obstacle at him. He had to find the Green Knight and be true to their pact.
He stood a little straighter and walked away from the oak tree.
"Come on Gringolet, let's find a better shelter. We won't be able to get any sleep here."
He gathered his few possession, and started to walk off deeper into the forest where the thunder wouldn't be able to reach him.
