![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
amaranthine-7.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tamingthemuseTitle: The sea
Fandom: Arthurian legends
Prompt: Prompt 389 - Coxswain
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: In less than a week he would have to carry his brothers from this point to the mainland far off in the distance.
Gawain sat on the top of the rocky cliff looking at the waves bouncing off the rocks that were sprawled on the ground below. The water were calm but he knew this wasn't necessarily a good sign. Many good sailors got caught in the quickly changing waters around the islands and never returned. He shook his head trying to shake away those thoughts. He needed to remain positive, confident. In less than a week he would have to carry his brothers from this point to the mainland far off in the distance.
He looked up, trying to see the shores of Scotland but could see nothing but the horizon of blue sky and sea.
He got up and walked down the cliff to the sea. He stepped into a small grotto and found his boat. It wasn't much, just enough to carry his brothers and him, and the few possessions they would take with them. He wished he could have taken their horses too but that would have meant hiring a much bigger boat and a crew. He could not risk this. He knew the crew would be liable to die once Morgause would have find out about their escape. He did not want any innocents death on his conscience.
He jumped in the boat and sat in his position. He would be the one to lead the way, to row the hardest. He grabbed the paddles and tried them on. He had been doing this for more than two weeks and yet they still felt foreign in his hands. The sea was not his environment. He wished for the millionth time that he could trust one of his brothers to lead but he knew none of them could. In spite of having been raised on an island none of them were efficient on the sea. They had always been kept safe on the shore, inland.
He closed his eyes and rock left and right, pretending to be at sea. He focused on his movement, strengthening his muscles. At least his body would be ready. He rowed for almost an hour before opening his eyes again. He lay back in the boat, feeling the hard irregular wood against his back and closed his eyes once more. He would be fine. He would know how to lead and they would all reach Scotland in good times were horses would be waiting for them. And then, he thought, they could fly off to Camelot with no more sea to cross only land and hard firm ground under their horses' hooves.
He sat up and looked at the sea in the distance.
"I am not scared of you," he said loudly.
He stared angrily at the water in defiance for a long minute before getting up and walking away, his back turned to the seam his eyes fixed on land.
Fandom: Arthurian legends
Prompt: Prompt 389 - Coxswain
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: In less than a week he would have to carry his brothers from this point to the mainland far off in the distance.
Gawain sat on the top of the rocky cliff looking at the waves bouncing off the rocks that were sprawled on the ground below. The water were calm but he knew this wasn't necessarily a good sign. Many good sailors got caught in the quickly changing waters around the islands and never returned. He shook his head trying to shake away those thoughts. He needed to remain positive, confident. In less than a week he would have to carry his brothers from this point to the mainland far off in the distance.
He looked up, trying to see the shores of Scotland but could see nothing but the horizon of blue sky and sea.
He got up and walked down the cliff to the sea. He stepped into a small grotto and found his boat. It wasn't much, just enough to carry his brothers and him, and the few possessions they would take with them. He wished he could have taken their horses too but that would have meant hiring a much bigger boat and a crew. He could not risk this. He knew the crew would be liable to die once Morgause would have find out about their escape. He did not want any innocents death on his conscience.
He jumped in the boat and sat in his position. He would be the one to lead the way, to row the hardest. He grabbed the paddles and tried them on. He had been doing this for more than two weeks and yet they still felt foreign in his hands. The sea was not his environment. He wished for the millionth time that he could trust one of his brothers to lead but he knew none of them could. In spite of having been raised on an island none of them were efficient on the sea. They had always been kept safe on the shore, inland.
He closed his eyes and rock left and right, pretending to be at sea. He focused on his movement, strengthening his muscles. At least his body would be ready. He rowed for almost an hour before opening his eyes again. He lay back in the boat, feeling the hard irregular wood against his back and closed his eyes once more. He would be fine. He would know how to lead and they would all reach Scotland in good times were horses would be waiting for them. And then, he thought, they could fly off to Camelot with no more sea to cross only land and hard firm ground under their horses' hooves.
He sat up and looked at the sea in the distance.
"I am not scared of you," he said loudly.
He stared angrily at the water in defiance for a long minute before getting up and walking away, his back turned to the seam his eyes fixed on land.
