A Blast from the Past (Celta)

[thegwaine]

Mercia was not a kingdom which Gwaine visited on a regular basis. Indeed, this was only his second visit to the kingdom in his entire time of travelling. Mercia had been one of the first kingdoms which he had found himself in when he had left home, he had only been a bit of a kid then, but he had quickly learnt about the worlds hardships, and those experiences which had led him to be the man he was today. Now he was quite wise in the ways of the world. This however had not led him to abandon his core belief's, he never abandoned his sense of justice, and he never, ever abandoned anyone who was in need.

It had been the latter of these philosophies which had defined his last visit to Mercia. He had only been in the kingdom for a few days when he had come across a building in full flames. He'd of course abandoned all sense of logic and normality, both of which had told him that no one could possibly be alive in there, and he had broken into the flames. He had quickly come across a woman, only a bit of a girl, who was coughing and spluttering. He could still remember how the smoke had tore at his lungs, how hard it had been to breathe or even focus in the inferno. But he had done the impossible task, he had got the woman out safely.

Quite characteristically, Gwaine had not stuck around long enough to make himself well known to the woman in question. He had stayed long enough to make sure that she would pull through, but after that he had disappeared back into the abyss which was his life, and had never really looked back until now. That was the thing about Gwaine, he was a man of the moment. After all, it did no good to dwell on the things of the past for all eternity; you could not change them so there was no point in it.

Now that Gwaine was in Mercia he began to wonder what exactly had happened to that girl from all those years ago. He had not found out the reasons for the fire, perhaps it was just a freak accident. If so, it was not unfathomable to think that she could still reside in Mercia today. He would however not be seeking her out, it was not his place, and he certainly did not want any glory for it.

Gwaine was feeling a bit more at home as he found his way to the local tavern. At last, somewhere he could get an ale in his belly. Two days without ale was taking its toll, he was even thinking straight and that wouldn't do at all. The tavern was quite quiet, even though the afternoon was dragging on. He purchased some local ale and retreated to a quiet corner of the room to finish his drink in relative peace; or at least until a pretty face took his fancy.

Tags: Lady Celta
Timeline: Before series 3
Time of day: Late Afternoon
Location: A tavern in Mercia
Notes: Hope this is ok! Sorry for the wait!!![/color]

[Celta Meiru]

The sun was no longer high in the sky, yet it had not yet set when Celta arrived in Mercia. She had left Camelot the day before, and with every step of the way, she wished she would become a coward again and turn back around. Camelot was safe for her, and no one there save for her adoptive family and maybe two other close friends knew who she had been before she was taken to Camelot. Not a lot of people knew she used to live in Mercia for years before the accident.

Yes, let people think it was an accident, what happened to her family. Every cast aside the deaths of her older brother and mother as though nothing was suspicious about it. Even more, the people in Mercia thought she was dead as well, that she had perished in the fire with the other two. No one knew the true story, that she watched as they were brutally murdered in front of her, and how she would've died as well had a handsome stranger saved her life that day. A man she never got to thank or see again, and it saddened her.

What had happened? Was he all right? She hoped so. A man that selfless and brave should not have died for her, and that would not be a happy thought to goad her to keep moving towards the town. After she visited the local tavern for a drink, then she would visit the spot where her family was tragically stolen from her. And with that, she lifted her hood up to cover her face as Eolas trotted through town. People glanced at them but made no noise to the two strangers as they slowed and stopped in front of the tavern. Celta dismounted, securing the reins of her mare onto a pole and patting her with a soft smile before she turned and walked purposefully into the tavern.

It wasn't as loud as the taverns in Camelot, and she took a quick yet sharp glance around at the faces. No one looked familiar from her time in Mercia as a little girl, so she inwardly sighed with relief and pulled the hood of her brown riding dress down to her shoulders, smiling comfortably though the sadness lingered in her eyes. There was no need to fret yet, as the men seemed welcoming enough without being pigs.

"An ale, please," she asked as she walked over to a man who worked there, and he nodded and left to get it for her. And keep them coming...she thought bitterly to herself; however, she needed a clear head while she was in Mercia, for she didn't know what could happen if she let her guard completely down. And so she surveyed the room more casually this time, and her ice blue eyes landed on a handsome yet quiet man in the corner of the room. He was drinking an ale and had looked at her, but she glanced away as her ale arrived at the table she had been standing by.

Paying the man, she watched him walk away and then silently took a long sip of her ale. She sighed calmly, feeling it go down and enjoying the moment of peace it brought her. And she soon found herself looking over at the stranger in the corner once more. Who was he?

[thegwaine]

Overall Gwaine was not enjoying his time in Mercia as of yet. He didn’t particularly like the people who resided there. Most were quite driven by war, and although Gwaine accepted that was did have to happen on occasions, he did not believe that war should be made just for the sake of it. No, when you reached that point it was just ridiculous. However, that was the mentality of many of the Mercian people, and it was uneasy to be amongst so many with the same mindset. Compared to other Kingdoms, the Mercian’s were quite a ruthless bunch in Gwaine’s opinion, and he certainly wouldn’t be staying long if he could help it.

Gwaine only looked up as a young woman entered the tavern, well, a woman could always easily divert his attentions; even from ale. Now this young woman was quite, different. He could tell that just from the way she carried herself. However, perhaps he was giving her too much insight, after all, he was but watching her for the time being. He noticed her staring across at him and well, that was all the encouragement Gwaine needed really wasn’t it?

Now the only issue he had was how exactly to gage the young woman’s attentions. He could of course charm with ease, but each woman was different and needed to be treated as such. Any fool who thought that women should be treated in the same way, where flirtations were involved, was nothing more than a fool. Ruffling his hair with his hand he picked up his ale and began to approach the young woman. Technically, by looking at him, she had encouraged him, so he was perfectly within his rights to try his luck with his pretty words.

Upon approaching her he set his ale down on the table next to her and pursed his lips into quite a triumphant grin, although he was yet to do anything which could be deemed as triumphant. Well, how could this woman resist him? This was Gwaine they were talking about anyway and if there was one thing he knew, it was women. “My Lady, I wonder if you could help me in my predicament.” He grinned softly, one of his arms lying casually on the table in front of them as he continued to just smile at her. “I am in conflict, as I believe that no matter how pretty your name is, it will never do justice to the beauty of your face.” A small smile again, just so she knew he was not joking or jesting with her. That was important of course to the whole charming act, they had to believe what he was saying was genuine. “So perhaps you could grace me with your name, so I can make my judgement and end my conflict.”

[Celta Meiru]

Celta was thoroughly enjoying the quiet of this tavern. A few men sat around tables talking low amongst themselves, and only one or two people in the tavern actually seemed loud and obnoxious, but she tuned them out. Two were fine, they would hopefully leave soon or she would move away to a more peaceful location, but the whole tavern a rowdy mess? She would have to leave because she was not in that kind of mood today. Thankfully, it was not like that. She wanted to drink without being knocked over by a fight or hit on by gross and fat drunkards who only wanted one thing that they would never get from her.

The only thing men like that ever got from her was a swift kick in the groin or a slap in the face. And speaking of men, she finally stopped glancing between her ale and the man in the corner when she saw him looking back at her. She cursed inwardly as he stood up, but she pretended to look at the sleeve on her arm as though something was suddenly extremely fascinating on it. Her eyes dropped low, and she took a sip of her ale silently, hoping he would sit back down or walk past her. No such luck.

She only cast him a sideways glance after he had gently put his ale on the table and laid his arm out there so he could look at her. He was even more handsome up close to her, and she raised her blue eyes to look at his triumphant and grinning face. Even though she did not yet smile, she could inwardly admit that he was attractive and seemed interested in talking with her. She wondered what this so-called predicament was and raised a brow amusingly, listening to him speak as she turned her full attention on him and set down her tankard. Until he opened that charming mouth of his.

He complimented her, saying how he thought her name would be pretty, but not as beautiful as her face. She blinked at him a few times and raised her brow even higher, starting to laugh at his last sentence. Well, she couldn't hate him for trying, but if he thought she would swoon and giggle like a woman of the court from that line, he was truly mistaken. Although, she was flattered because she saw that he was genuine when he called her beautiful.

"And...how many other women have you used that exact same excuse on?" She just had to ask him that challenging question as she stood next to him with her head raised and a smirk on her face. She was neither offended nor ready to run away with him. He was a very curious man, and she wanted to know more, so she supposed she would give him what he wanted for the time being. "I am Lady Celta Meiru, of Camelot." And with that said, she bowed her head respectfully. "And who is the handsome man I can say I am speaking to right now, sir?"

[thegwaine]

Of course Gwaine would consider himself a complete fool if he had not decided to chase up this opportunity. After all, a bit of female attention would probably make his stay in Mercia worthwhile, and god, the Kingdom needed to do a lot to achieve that. Perhaps he would move onto the northern lands next, or perhaps even Camelot. He hadn’t been there before, and it would certainly be an adventure. From what he had heard, Camelot was rather different because of the way it was ruled. That of course was in referral to its laws against magic. Gwaine had no real preferences to magic, as long as it wasn’t happening to him he wasn’t that bothered. As long as it wasn’t affecting him, he couldn’t see the issue in it really.

The fact the woman did not smile at him straight away did not go unnoticed. Ah, defiance. Women often tried that little trick, but it would take time to see if that was just a quick defence, or whether perhaps she was promised to another or such. They were really quite fun to figure out really, and Gwaine always enjoyed his work, if you could even call it that.

Well, at least she was laughing rather than giving him a black eye; that happened sometimes as well. Of course this could only be seen as encouraging as she had not stopped their conversation, no indeed she was flirting back with him. Well this was interesting. He was more used to women gigging and blushing at his words. Gwaine had been after a challenge after all. Gwaine raised his hands in a mock innocence, something he was well practised at doing, “You are the only one I swear.” Well, the only one for tonight, but she didn’t have to know that did she? And it would rather ruin the mood.

A Lady of the courts travelling on her own? Well well well, that was something that you didn’t come across every day. He raised an eye brow at her, “A Lady of the court in a joint like this?” He asked, it was hardly the luxury she could be used to. Handsome? Heh, she would have to try better than that to match his charms and he grinned, “My names Gwaine, just Gwaine.” He didn’t bother with titles, mainly as his family name had been lost in his obscure history and he never bothered with it anyway. He was his own man, and this man was just plain and simple Gwaine. “So not sir, just Gwaine.”

[Celta Meiru]

She watched and gauged his reactions to her own somewhat distant yet flirtatious ones. She was playfully confronting the young man in front of her because she knew the tricks of men far too well to be fooled like the usual woman. Of course, she was no normal woman, and it was obvious to anyone who met her. A wider smile spread across her lips, her blue eyes dancing in amusement at the fake innocence as he continued to stretch the truth by saying she was the only one. She nodded once and continued to stare at him expectantly as if waiting for him to suddenly start laughing and tell her it was all a joke.

"A joint like this?" she replied to his question with a raised brow of her own, the light fading from her eyes as she glanced around at all of the happy people around them drinking or talking as though they did not have a care in the world. "Compared to court, this is closer to a home for me. Nobility is such a ridiculous notion. Pretending to have power and importance. Actions speak louder than any damn birthright. Most of the court doesn't deserve their titles, and if it was up to me...one could choose their own status." She laughed bitterly and glanced at him with a shrug. When it came to talking about the people who surrounded and smothered her while she resided in Camelot for the past four years, it was a sensitive subject.

"I don't mean to snap, but status, money, and titles? None of that matters to me. There are more important things in life, like staying alive. Give me a horse, some good ale, and friendly company, and I'm all set." With that said, she took a long sip of ale and smiled once again at him, glad to be changing the subject when he told her his name. Gwaine, just Gwaine, to which she nodded, putting her hand out for him to shake. He was the first Gwaine she'd ever met, and so she was sure she'd remember him, especially since he had such a striking face.

"Pleasure to meet you, just Gwaine," she tilted her head towards him. "Come to Mercia often?"

[thegwaine]

A noble who hated other nobility; how interesting. Well, it wasn’t a completely foreign concept to Gwaine, he himself was born into a noble household, but hated the thought of nobility. They were all the same really, they all just looked after their own interests and cared little for others. They had arrogance and pride instilled in them from birth, and it only got worse as they grew older. Gwaine was glad he had left that life behind him. Ordinary folk were a lot more refreshing, and more interesting to speak to. There were no conventions with conversing with men down at the local tavern, you could just be yourself and not worry so much about being judged. Yes, Gwaine certainly enjoyed his life now, and would not change it for anything. He coughed slightly and raised an eye brow at her, “I take it you do not voice such things in court.” He asked her sharply, “But nobility are all the same, they all look after their own interests.” His tone was bitter, but no he would not think of his father now. That was after all a long time ago, and he was a different person because of that now.

Her next words were just as unusual as the first. Jesu, she really did despise nobility didn’t she? Or at least that was what her words led him to believe. Of course any noble could despise of their titles from time to time, they sometimes even saw their title as a burden. They however would still sleep in feather beds, have fancy clothing and have servants to dress them. He wondered if this woman was one of these types. That would reveal itself in time. “You are quite an unusual noblewoman, if you don't mind me saying."

He shook his head at her words, “I have only been once before, quite a while back now.” He scrunched his face up slightly and looked around the tavern, “The company is just as cheery then as it is now.” There was no changing the Mercian’s really was there. “What about you? Do you visit here often?”

[Celta Meiru]

The ale was gone in her cup, but she did not want to merely stop at one ale. She looked over at the barkeep with a smile. She asked him for another and thanked him as he nodded and walked away to get the ale for her. She set her empty tankard back down in front of her and faced the gentleman next to her once more. Her blue eyes roamed casually across his face, trying to figure him out. However, she found he was difficult to read and so shrugged it off and put it in the back of her mind for later She decided to answer his questions instead.

"I may be stubborn and hate the nobles that suffocate me, but I'm not an idiot," was her reply to him. "I would never publicly say what I think. I prefer to keep my head on my shoulders." Although several times, she almost lost it and spouted off everything in her mind, if Hadrian hadn't been there to shut her up and make an excuse for her to get some air and calm down. She knew it was also pointless to tell them your opinions in court, especially Celta's, because they never listened anyway. It was true, what Gwaine had said. Nobles did look after their interests, and their interests alone.

"They care too much for everything they want and not what they need or already have," she agreed with him solemnly, nodding a quick but polite thank you as the man set a new tankard of ale in front of her. She took a long sip as he told her she was unusual for a noblewoman, and she laughed gently. At least he was being honest with her now, and that's what she liked to hear. "Thank you. Of course I don't mind when you give me such a kind and true compliment," she smirked at him and looked away for a second before back at him.

She listened to him talk about his time in Mercia, intent to hear what he had to say. That was something they had in common. Celta hadn't truly been back to this part of Mercia since she left when she was twelve. The company was more scarce here than it had been, and everyone was still acquaintances or strangers here. Not a lot of people in Mercia cared about each other as much as Camelot, even the commoners. Mercia was mostly a city where you trusted a small amount of people, and even then, they can turn on you in a heartbeat.

"No. I haven't been back to Mercia since my family died..." she froze, her eyes immediately closing as she realized what she had said. No one was supposed to know who she was, why she was back, or anything about her connections with Mercia. And here she was, stupidly running her mouth and telling a man she barely knew why she left. With a deep breath and long exhale, her haunted eyes reopened to look right into his before she contemplated chugging her drink. Well, now he knew part of everything. She wondered just what else she would end up having to tell him tonight.

[thegwaine]

Gwaine could not help to be amused as Celta asked for yet another ale. Well well, perhaps this woman could even match his own appetite for the drink, though he certainly doubted that. Weren’t noblewomen supposed to drink wine and act fancy and all of that? Then again, who was Gwaine to judge if she wanted to act a little differently. Nobles were all the same in his book, they were all tarnished with the same unfortunate qualities of pride, stubbornness and self interest, and that was all there was to it really. It would be up to this woman to prove that she was any different and frankly a few ale induced words weren’t really going to swing it for him. They could be said out of bitterness, anger, irritation; whatever, it didn’t have to be what she thought. He bet she still had her maid servants help her dress this morning. Nobles, they were all the same.

He was glad to hear at least that she was not as foolish as her words were showing her to be. That was a start at least. Nodding at her he sunk his lips into his ale, “It makes little difference to me, but I’d keep it that way if I were you. Your head is far too pretty to be lobbed off your shoulders.” Nothing could beat subtle flirtation with a friendly warning really could it? So she liked being called unusual? All right, Gwaine could live with this, he would make it his mission now to come up with some sort of unusual nickname for her, well, so long as the ale didn’t rush to his head too quickly. If it did then it would be a miracle if he could continue the conversation, let alone give her a proper nickname.

Gwaine raised his eyes to the young woman as she spoke, and found his eye brows furrowing at her words. Jesu, he wasn’t expecting her to say anything like that! “I’m sorry.” Was all he could think to say, and it was a knee jerk reaction at best but he could relate in a way. He had not been back home in years because of the death of his father. However what had passed had passed, and he was not going to spend all day dwelling on it. This was his life now, and this was how he liked it.