"Let Your Hair Fall All Around..."

[psalm_onethirtyone]

Okays omg look two new chapters!!1!1.

As soon Gareth excuses himself and goes back up the bus aisle to the bathroom, Mordred turns on Gaheris.

"What the hell happened to him? He's filthy, he smells like cheap booze, he looks like he hasn't eaten in weeks."

"He's homeless." Gaheris leans back against the seat. "He was. Do you have your cell phone? I need Clar to get my stuff out of the room. I told him it was his."

"Don't be an idiot. There's--"

"No room for him. There isn't. Clar's got the living room and her room, you've got one bedroom, and the other one's mine. And there's the kitchen. He needs a room. He can have mine."

"Or we can throw Clar out of her bedroom. It's not like she uses it. That's a bit more reasonable that you sleeping in the hall. Stop being melodramatic for five minutes and let me work things out some way that actually works, hmm?"

"All right. All right."

"You're a royal pain in the ass sometimes. Even if Clar won't move, he can sleep with her. He likes her, remember? They were always camping out together when we were kids."

"I don't remember."

"We've got to get Clar to work on that for you. They're only a year apart. She likes him better than any of us. She even used to let him help her, and they were always getting into trouble. Mother hated him for it."

"Mother hated us all." Gaheris shrugs.

"Knock it off," Mordred says, jabbing him. Just then Gareth comes back, and he scoots in so that Mordred's in the middle. Gaheris wanted the window.

"The lady in the back said that we're about to stop."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's time for the food break. Can we get lunch? I'm hungry." He smiles winningly at Mordred, who shakes his head with an air of great long-suffering.

"Sure. We'll get lunch. Did you pick that expression up pan-handling?"

"Hey!"

"We're turning off now," Gaheris says, looking out the window. "Your choices are Wendy's and Subway."

"Wendy's. He needs something deep-fried."

Gareth beams. "I do!"

The bus slows to a stop, and the driver opens the doors. "Everybody out. You got half an hour." She jumps down to the ground and stands there, watching the people exit. "If you're not back by then, I ain't waiting, so keep looking at your watches." They're last out. As Mordred goes past her she catches his shoulder. "Hey, you."

"What?"

"Modred ap Morgause, right?"

Gaheris, still in the bus, freezes, watching her. There's nothing familiar--long brown hair, a model's body, only maybe thirty, but he has no idea who she is. Mordred smiles at her boyishly.

"Close. I updated the spelling and tossed the ap Morgause. We're closer to those Scottish bastards than you Welsh sentimentalists."

"I'm not that sentimental." Her rough accent is gone; now her voice is smooth and fluid. It's exotic for America and exotic for Orkney, too; it's sweet and low like heather and clear water, like hawthorns and the sound of the double l in Llanwellynn. Gaheris presses against the side of the bus, casting his eyes back to the interior to see what the people there are doing, but no one's moving, no one's stirring. The people who got off the bus in front of them are trailing into the small complex of buildings. Gareth is already outside, watching Mordred and the woman curiously.

Mordred is laughing, his eyes suddenly bright and full of humour. "Good, it's not sentimentality. And I never wronged any women, so you're not out for revenge. Can't think of anything else, so you can let me go, yeah?"

"Aren't I your ally?"

"No, I don't think I ever had any of those."

The woman smiles at him. It's clear that the smile isn't for him, that it's purely hers and her secret, that she won't give a hint of that secret away. She'll just show it to you and watch you long for it, and never tell and never stop smiling. "I stole the wizard."

"Definitely not an ally. I could have used the nosy old son of a bitch. He might have stopped me."

"Modred, you've changed."

"No, I haven't. You're just losing your pretty memory in your old age."

"Do I look old to you?"

"Do I look like a fool to you?"

She laughs. "Not so changed, then. My mistake."

"Hey, it's okay. We all screw up sometimes." He puts his hands on her shoulders and kisses her, long. Gaheris thinks of looking away, but he can't. Then Mordred lets her go, only it doesn't look like Mordred letting her go; it's both of them, they part at the same time, wholly equal. They both look at one another with smiles, hers faintly mocking, his careless. "Driving buses, huh?"

"I go with the times."

"Sure. I would have figured an exec somewhere, though."

"Sometimes I moonlight. Don't tell Enron."

"You bitch."

"What a sweet thing to say."

"Yeah, it's pretty much all I have to say to you, sweetheart. Our half hour's ticking away. How about letting me buy my brother something to eat?"

"Really, your brothers! Oh, I only met one while I was in Camelot. This must be Gareth," she says, turning to him. "What a sweet boy. He was married, of course. It was Agrivain who wasn't. Agrivain was my darling. He kept trying to show everyone else up for me, do you remember?"

"And looking like an idiot. Yeah. Poor kid."

"Not any more."

"What?"

"He's very successful now." The woman's smile grows more mocking. "I just gave him a hint about you, you know. Of course, he's so slow. He probably won't show up for a year or so."

"Careful, lady. Don't talk about my brother that way--he's smarter than you think. It won't take him more than a year."

"How silly of me. But I'm forgetting, Gareth is hungry. Don't let me keep you." Suddenly the magic seems to go out of her. She chews her gum and pops it loudly, jerks her thumb towards the Wendy's. "Get going. Clock's ticking." Behind Gaheris, somebody makes an impatient noise, and he hurries out to Mordred. The woman waits until the person behind Gaheris has gone out, and then gets back in her seat, putting her feet up on the dash and her cap down over her eyes.

Gareth looks at Mordred wide-eyed. "Who the fuck was that?"

"What did you just say?" Mordred frowns at him. "Watch your mouth, kiddo. You're not hanging out with crack addicts and whores any more."

"Sorry," meekly.

"Who was it?" Gaheris asks.

"Vivienne? It was Vivienne."

"She kissed you!" Gareth says.

"Yeah, that used to happen a lot. Girls these days are getting picky."

"Wait, Vivienne?" Gaheris catches his arm. "That girl who--the one who took off with Merlin--?"

"Yeah. You guys were all in love with her. She wouldn't even look at you." Mordred grins. "I didn't know Agrivain was the worst. Anyway, she was, ah, a friend of Mother's. She used to come to the house back when it was just me and Clar, after all you'd gone off to Camelot. We--got along. Matter of fact, I asked her for help once, which was stupid. Stupider than most of the stupid things I was doing then." He looks at Gaheris and Gareth. "Anyway. Long time ago. Kind of a surprise seeing her."

"She was really pretty." Gareth looks over his shoulder at the bus.

"You think so?" drily. "Keep away from her. She's just like Mother."

"Well, Lyonor's prettier."

"Can we just get lunch? I'm starving," Gaheris says, looking at the ground and trying to ignore them both.

"That's where we're headed, little brother."

~~~

When they get back on the bus, Vivienne smiles at them, and suddenly Gaheris is sure he smells heather, or something familiar and long gone, something that brings back vivid memories of home; but just as suddenly she leans out the door and screams,--

"Last call for bus 18 to Philly! Or I'm leaving you behind!",

and it's gone.

Mordred nudges him into his seat, Gareth squeezes in next. "Well. It's about time we got home. Clar's going to be happy to see you."

"I can't wait to see her. Hey--" He reaches over to Gaheris.

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering, I know you guys got a room ready for me, but is it okay if I stay with Clar? I like being with her. I was thinking we could share."

"That's fine," says Gaheris.

"More than fine," Mordred says, snapping open his cell phone. "I'll call her and let her know."

"Shut up," Gaheris whispers, but Mordred only smiles beatifically and dials.

~~~

When they finally get home, Clar's waiting at the kitchen table, lighting the last of a pack of cigarettes. There are two empty ones on the table already, sitting on top of a pile of magazines from JCPenney.

"Jesus Christ, did you just smoke the whole--"

"Shut up," she says. "Shut up, Modred."

"What did you just call me?" Something new enters his voice. Gaheris frowns and looks at them; they sound unfamiliar suddenly. Clar narrows her eyes.

"Son of Morgause. Where's Gareth? I want to see Gareth."

"Clar!" He bursts in and immediately they're wrapped a hug, short little Gareth and his raggedy clothes, tall, dark Clar with her long black hair. She holds him like the last piece of the world, like the last familiar good thing left any more, and Gaheris looks away and goes to the refrigerator for apples. "I missed you so much."

"You too." She looks at him. "Smelly. They have real baths now. No more cold water."

"I know. I used to take them when I was little," he says, smiling at her.

"Go get one. Smelly."

"Okay."

Gaheris looks around for Mordred, but he's gone.

~~~

There's nothing Gareth's size in the house, so he comes down to breakfast the next morning in Clar's old clothes, jeans and a t-shirt a few sizes too large. Clar's tiny herself, but not as small at Gareth. Clean, his skin is infinitely pale and his hair is soft brown. Last night Clar cut it herself in the bathroom and took bits of it away to the living room. The mad scientist's laboratory, Mordred's taken to calling it.

Gareth eats ravenously. Breakfast is mostly quiet, except for his questions in between huge spoonfuls of eggs and cold cereal. Usually it's Clar who answers.

Then Mordred stands abruptly. "I'm flying out this afternoon."

Gareth looks up in surprise. "Why?"

"I'm lecturing in Oregon. Gaheris is driving me to the airport."

This is the first time Gaheris has heard anything about it, but he nods.

"Hiding, Modred?" Clar asks.

Mordred stops trying to knot his tie. "Shut up. Don't you ever call me that again. Never again."

"Modred," she says, taps her fingers on the table. "Modred son of Morgause. That's you. Can't hide. See you trying. Won't work."

For a moment he seems to shake. His hands are wrong, and his breathing is too soft to hear; really, he doesn't seem to be breathing at all. His eyes are dark. Gaheris knows that he's going to shout, that he's going to hit her, that something's going to go horrible wrong-- Mordred suddenly turns and leaves the room without a word.

"Why did you do that?" Gareth looks at her with quiet misunderstanding. "You made him mad."

"Has to go. Has--and he can't deny it. Old names. Can't explain." She makes a stilted gesture.

"Oh. Okay," he says, and rests his cheek against her shoulder.

~~~

The drive to the airport is perfectly silent. Mordred says nothing, doesn't move. Gaheris keeps starting and realising that he's either going eighty or has taken his foot off the gas altogether. The other drivers are getting pissed off, honking at him and sometimes even leaning out their windows to swear.

Once he breaks the stillness. "She's crazy."

"Shut up!"

"Sorry, I--"

"Shut up!"

He does.

At the airport, he sees Mordred through to the gates. "When are you coming back?"

"I don't know. I'll call."

Gaheris hesitates. "I love you."

Mordred ignores him and hands the man in front of the gates his ticket; then he goes on through.

~~~

For a little while, Gaheris sits in the parking lot, hands on the steering wheel. What's wrong with them all? What's even going on? (He thinks too much.) He wonders where Amy is right now (just out of school), wonders what she thinks since he's been gone for the last three days. He wonders whether she misses him.

He starts the car, puts it into gear, and drives the opposite direction from home.

~~~

"Hey! How're you doing? You okay?" Peredur smiles at him and leads him inside.

"I think I'm going crazy. I think we all are."

"What's wrong?"

"Mordred. And Clar. And Gareth, I found Gareth. We found Gareth. He was living on the streets. Oh, God, doesn't that sound cliche? Goddamn it. I can't help it. He's so small. He was always small, remember how small he was? And he's so small now, he looks half-starved, but he's all right, I think he's all right. He was mad at me. He asked me why I took so long to find him. And I don't know why, I don't know why I didn't even do anything for years. I'm twenty-five, for God's sake. I don't know why I never even thought about looking for anybody, not Mordred or him or Gawain, nobody. I just walled myself up in my damn apartment and never talked to anybody and I'm lucky as hell Mordred came looking for me at all. God. Gareth. I can't believe it. He looks like he was born like that. He doesn't look like anybody ever took care of him. And he was so angry when I found him, all fuck this and fuck that and how could you leave me alone without coming for me for so many years, and I didn't have an answer, I swear I didn't."

He suddenly looks up and realises that the people in the store are staring at him. A few of them are Amish, and there's a tiny girl in white who looks at him with huge eyes. Peredur waves at her.

"Hey, Melissa! 'Scuse me, guys. I'll tell Helen to come out and take care of your groceries." He draws Gaheris along through the people and into the back. Galahad's wife sits there peeling sweet potatoes into a bucket. "Hey. Can you take care of the front for me?"

"'Course I can." She stands and disappears through the door. Peredur sits Gaheris down on her stool and sits on the floor next to him.

"You guys found Gareth?"

"In Boston. Yeah. He drinks. He--it doesn't matter. I don't know. It matters. I don't know what to do--"

"Shh," he says softly, pouring Gaheris a cup of hot cider. Hot cider in the middle of April. The mug's chipped and old. "Here, drink."

Gaheris obeys.

"That's better," says Peredur. "There."

"Mordred just left."

"Where'd he go?"

"Oregon. I think. Clar called him Modred and he was angry."

"They did use to call him Modred sometimes, when they were talkin' about Arthur's enemy. It prob'ly means bad stuff to him."

"Why'd she do it?"

"I don't know."

"She kept doing it, even after he was so mad."

"She's fey, isn't she?"

He nods.

"She musta had a reason only she knows, then. They're like that, fey people. They know stuff and they don't really share. You just hafta figure it out."

"She wanted him to go?"

"Maybe it'll do something good for him."

"I doubt it," he says. His nose is running, but it's only because the cider's so hot.

"Well, she knows, and she prob'ly isn't gonna tell you, so maybe it's best to leave it go. And maybe she's just all ruffled from havin' Gareth back. Does she like him?"

"She loves him. They were always--doing everything together."

"Then maybe he'll calm her down. You don't know, that's the thing."

"I know. I hate it."

Peredur reaches over and clasps his shoulder comfortingly. "You want to stay with us for a while? After all, you drove all the way out here. We've got lots of start planting to do, got these tomatoes to transplant, and it's time to be lookin' to buy potato eyes--these here Helen's got are from last year. They're gettin' a little squishy, so we're tryin' to use them up. And we got to get the peppers transplanted, too. This is busy time, not as much as in summer, but busy too, 'cause you got to get a good start if you want things to keep bein' good all year through. Strawberries need weedin'--strawberries always need weedin'--and it's gettin' on time to start cuttin' the spreggies."

"Spreggies?"

"Asparagus. Helen calls it sparrow-grass, but that isn't right. They're spregs."

"Okay. It's okay if I stay?"

"Sure. I wouldn't have said if you couldn't. We'll make you the attic room. Did you bring clothes?"

"I didn't bring anything."

"That's fine. You're about my size, you can borrow my stuff."

For what feels like the first time in for-ever, even though he knows it isn't, Gaheris smiles. "Thanks."

"'Course. We're always glad to have friends stayin'."

"Why do I count as a friend?"

"Huh?"

"I mean--it's not like we ever did anything good, is it? Mordred--and I was just as bad, I killed--"

"It don't matter. It don't matter any more." Peredur stands. "It was a long time ago. You know? I remember losin' all my friends. I lost Galahad and Helen first, and then I didn't come back--remember how I didn't come back?--and I kept hearin' things, people would go by our farm and I'd have them in for food and restin', and they'd tell me about the war and all my friends dyin', first it was Lamorak and you and Gareth, and then it got to bein' more and more, it was Lionel and Lucan and Dinadan and Geraint, Gawain, and then Mordred and Arthur and everybody." He suddenly takes a sweet potato from Helen's pile and takes the the knife, begins to peel it, keeping the peel whole, a long orange spiral. His hands are steady, too steady. He's looking at the potato as if he were talking to it. "It was--I hated hearin' it. And now it's not that way any more, you're comin' back. First it was me and Helen and Galahad, and I never been so happy in my life. And now it's you. And I'm glad you're back."

"But we fought."

"And I woulda never done it if it had been me, but what do I know about you? I'm different. All people're different. Nothin' was makin' sense back then, don't you see that? It was all so crazy. Everything was fallin' apart then, wasn't it? After the Queen slept with Lancelot. And I don't know why anybody did what they did then, and I bet half of them don't know either."

Gaheris buries his face in his hands. Immediately Peredur kneels by him and embraces him, letting Gaheris' head rest against his chest.

"It's okay," he says, real soft. "It's okay. I told you before, you're gonna be okay."

And then they hold like that, quiet but gentle, until Gaheris finally eases and the aching eases.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"It's okay," says Peredur. "Come on. Let's get your room set up, yeah?"

"Yeah," Gaheris says. "--Thank you."

"Sure." And Peredur helps him to his feet.

Comments

[eremon-lass.livejournal.com]

You are, my dear, amazing as always, and that's really all I have to say.

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

Thank you. ♥

Also, are you on? because we neeeeeed you.

[gileonnen.livejournal.com]

... there's nothing to say but ;_________; ♥

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

*wibbles* ♥!

[julietveiled.livejournal.com]

Thank you, by the way, for being a fast writer. XD

...now go write #11. ;)

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

<3333 Anything for my lady.

XD Working on it!