His sun

"You know, Galahad, sometimes I think my karma must have been especially bad to have been reborn as a peasant in a world as fucked up as this. Seriously, Westeros has been stuck in the Middle Ages for at least five thousand years! I know the First Men used bronze and iron was introduced by the Andals but come on! That was six thousand years ago..." Gawain sighs and looks at his little brother as if he could understand him, "The culture and technological level of the First Men is just as infuriating. For what little I know they were more or less at the level of the Bronze Age of Earth when the Andals invaded, but they were in Westeros for at least six thousand years before the Andals arrived and during that time they made no progress?! The Andals came and Westeros went from the `Bronze Age` to the `Middle Ages`, and in all this time practically nothing changed! How can a world stay stagnant for so long?!"

Galahad looks at him with his big green eyes and blinks innocently before moving his little hand to his older brother's curls. Taking advantage of Gawain's distraction, he grabs a handful of flame-red hair and pulls hard.

"Argh!" The redhead lets out a cry of pain and looks at his little brother with slightly moist eyes. "I swear, one day you're going to tear my hair." He untangles the handful of hair Galahad grabbed and rubs his scalp tenderly.

"My precious curls..." Gawain hardens his expression and changes the position in which he is holding his little brother, trying to keep him as far away from his hair as possible. "Look, baby brother, you're cute and all but if you keep pulling my hair-"

Gawain stops talking when he hears the dogs barking, he leaves his little brother on the ground and walks to the window, opens it and sees a teenager running towards his house.

"Is that Balor?" He opens the door and after looking at his little brother, who has started playing with a wooden knight, leaves the house. "Balor!"

The teenager stops a few meters from the fence surrounding Gawain's home and looks nervously at the two dogs that are snarling and barking at him.

`I trained them well,` thinks the redhead with satisfaction.

"Here, boys." At his call the two guard dogs run towards him and Gawain gestures for the teenager to come closer.

"I'll stay where I am!" Balor yells at him from the other side of the fence, still looking nervously at the two dogs.

`Loki and Thor are not that terrifying. They are good boys! The best boys!` Gawain pats each dog on the head and walks over to Balor.

Thor is a two and a half year old German Shepherd, he is an oversized pup with family but a ruthless beast with strangers. Loki is a dog of a breed that is very reminiscent of the Patterdale terrier but much larger and grumpy. Gawain was amused to discover that his personality is more like that of a cat than a dog; hence the name Loki. Loki is a couple of months younger than Thor and definitely the more vicious of the two when it comes to trespassers.

Damian Artois was a casual Marvel fan and looking at the pups' personalities decided to name them after two of his favorite characters (Tony Stark is a favorite Marvel character, in both movies and comics). His parents made no complaints, although they found the names a bit odd they attributed them to a child's overactive imagination.

"What brings you here, oh magnificent bard?" The redhead asks with a jesting tone.

Balor is the only son of the village blacksmith, since he was born it was supposed that one day he would inherit his father's smithy as is the family tradition (Willem's father was a blacksmith and so was his father,...) but the teenager challenged his father and decided to become a bard. Balor wants to travel the world and bathe in its glory (his words).

At fifteen he just started his career as a bard playing at the local tavern, according to him once he saves up enough coins he will embark on his own great adventure.

"Hmph." The bard crosses his arms and glares at him for a few moments before bursting out laughing and ruffling Gawain's hair. "You will see Gawain, one day I will play the lute in the great courts of Westeros, from Highgarden to King's Landing!"

"I believe in you Bal," Gawain's words are sincere, he is not at all condescending as he is one of the few inhabitants of Greenwood who recognizes the young bard's talent and determination. "But I'm sure you're not here to talk about your dreams, Balor. Why are you here?"

"Oh! Haha, I almost forgot." The teen rubs his chin, cheeks slightly pink with embarrassment. "Some knights stopped by the tavern and it doesn't look like they're leaving anytime soon. Genna can't close the tavern because, err- you know how knights can be."

Balor laughs nervously.

`I don't know, I haven't met one but I can imagine.`

"If Genna can't close the tavern then she won't be able to bring food to the workers." Says the redhead.

Genna is the wife of the owner of the tavern and since he is working in the meadow with the others, she is in charge not only of the tavern but also of preparing and bringing the food to the workers at noon. She doesn't do it out of kindness, she is paid for it; in fact in the last few weeks it has become her main source of income as the men are too busy working during the day and tired at night to drink. Greenwood does not usually have many visitors, so the tavern's customers are mostly the inhabitants of the village.

"Aye." Balor nods.

"Why are you here, Balor? Couldn't you bring them the food?" Gawain's look turns suspicious and Balor shifts nervously from one foot to the other.

"The knights have demanded that I play the lute for them. And- er. You know how knights can be, one can't refuse their requests."

`This smells fishier than the market` Gawain narrows his eyes and looks Balor square in the eye. Before his penetrating gaze, the teenager becomes more and more nervous.

"No child should have such piercing eyes!" Balor grunts and slumps his shoulders.

"Are you going to tell me the truth or will you continue wasting my time? Galahad is alone in the cabin and he is too restless to be left unsupervised for long." Gawain pretends to leave and the bard yells at him not to go.

"Alright, alright! I'll confess!" Balor lowers his gaze and looks at the ground ashamed of what he is going to say. "Those knights serve Lord Caswell, they are returning from a tourney that took place in Pinkmaiden, if I can impress them they might put a good word with Lord Caswell on my behalf! Look, Gawain, I know it's not very likely but this is what I've been waiting for all winter! This chance might be one in a thousand, no- Is one in a thousand, I can't let it slide! I can't! Please, help me! I'll do anything!"

Gawain watches as the teenager continues to babble and beg for his help.

`I haven't been to the meadow since I went with father, I'm curious to see how the project is progressing. Mother and father told me things are going smoothly but I think they were pampering me so I don't worry. Tsk, being a kid is kind of annoying at times.`

The redhead suppresses the urge to roll his eyes and interrupts Balor's babbling.

"Balor, what has Genna said about this?"

"Er-well..."

"You haven't told her anything…" Gawain sighs and looks at the teenager in exasperation.

"Don't worry! I'll figure something out!" Balor smiles hopefully. "Are you going to help me out?"

Before the puppy eyes Gawain sighs again.

`You are not a kid, and still, only Galahad`s puppy eyes work on me.`

"You owe me, Balor."

"Aye!" The teenager cheers. "I'll bring the cart with the food to the exit of the village, see you there!"

Without waiting for an answer, Balor runs to the village.

"Teens..." Gawain rolls his eyes and returns to the cabin. Upon entering he finds his brother right where he left him, still playing with his toy, and smiles warmly at him; the hair-pulling incident already forgiven (but not forgotten, it will be impossible to do so with the regularity with which Galahad uses his hair as his favorite toy).

"We're going on an adventure, little brother! Are you excited?" Galahad stammers something intelligible and the older boy laughs when he sees a spit bubble burst. He takes a cloth and wipes his little brother's face. "You are really lucky to be this cute, or else I wouldn't be cleaning your messes all the time."

Gawain takes a blanket, forms a baby carrier out of it and puts Galahad in it. With his little brother secured to his back, he leaves the house after filling a leather bag with the necessary supplies for the short trip, things like a waterskin, snacks for both of them, a cloth diaper for Galahad...

The redhead checks that all the doors and windows are properly closed and gathers the dogs in the courtyard.

"Loki, you will stay to watch the house. If someone unknown approaches our home, have no mercy, direct to the jugular." Gawain strokes the younger dog's head and looks at him seriously. "Thor, you are coming with us."

The trip to the meadow is short, barely an hour by cart, and the road is relatively safe, but since he is traveling with a baby, the redhead doesn't want to take any chances. He has always been quite cautious.

Gawain closes the gate and walks briskly to the main street of the village. Before going to the place agreed with Balor, he goes to the sawmill to inform his aunt of his plans because he doesn't want her to be scared if she decides to check on them only to not find them in the cabin.

Gertha is not happy with his decision to help Balor and she looks at him disapprovingly throughout their interaction.

"Please aunt Gertha! We miss mama and papa!" Gawain puts on his best puppy eyes, skill he learned from his little brother and his mother; they are both masters at it. "We'll just bring them food and stay while they eat, we won't be a nuisance! I promise we'll be good!"

Gertha sighs and runs her hand over her face.

"You must behave and not disturb them!" At the non-verbal permission, the redhead smiles brightly and nods.

His aunt allows them to go, even quickly packing lunch for both of them saying that they shouldn't eat the workers' food ("They need to eat well! Those poor souls are working all day, they shouldn't have to share their portions with some brats." she said).

The redhead found Balor beaming with emotion, as soon as he saw him, the teenager pointed to the cart and said goodbye quickly.

Gawain watched amused as the bard ran towards the tavern.

"That strange specimen is a teenager, Galahad. You must be careful around them, they can be very reckless and thoughtless but they are not necessarily bad; they just tend to not think things through."

We must not forget that in everyone's eyes Gawain is a five-year-old boy, one who is very mature and intelligent for his age but a child nonetheless and Balor entrusted him with the food of more than a hundred people...

"Who trusts such a task to a kid, let me tell you who: a teenager." Gawain chuckles and climbs into the cart, grabs the horse's reins, and sets off for the hour's journey to the meadow. Thor follows the cart closely.

Along the way the boy sings some songs to his little brother to keep him entertained.

"To dungeons deep and caverns dim

We must away, ere break of day

To win our harps and gold from him

Far over the misty mountains cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old~"

Gawain takes a sip of water and rubs his throat, not hearing his little brother babble, he turns his head and sees the baby sound asleep.

"Hehe. Falling asleep to an epic dwarf song, that is my little brother!" The redhead says under his breath as he shakes his head. "And to think there was a time I was terrified of the idea of a sibling..."

To this day Gawain continues to amaze himself with how much he adores his little brother.

The memories of the first days after learning of his mother's pregnancy are a haze of nervousness and anxiety. What terrified Gawain was not that his parents would love the baby more than him or something like that.

His anxiety stemmed from his memories of Elysia Artois.

His little sister was everything to him. The most important person in his life, his light in the darkness. Mr. and Mrs. Artois were not loving parents, in fact they were distant, cold and very neglectful.

They didn't seem to care much about their own children, they valued their work and social life much more than Damian and Elysia.

Damian's childhood was full of loneliness, staying alone in a cold house with only nannies for company, even with the nannies he had no luck since none of them saw him as anything more than a means to an end (money).

Young Damian also did not have many friends as his intelligence intimidated his peers. Once upon a time, young Artois watched a documentary about a genius boy and seeing the pride and affection in the eyes of that boy's parents, he thought his parents would be proud of him (and love him) if he was as outstanding as that boy. . Damian focused on his studies and skipped several grades, but still his parents were as cold and distant as always. Thinking he wasn't smart enough Damian tried to excel in sports, even when he won the national fencing championship his parents didn't even bother to attend the finals (they had a party that weekend).

When he was nine years old, his parents told him he was going to have a little sibling. At that age he still had hopes of winning the love of his parents and he only saw the baby in his mother's womb as a rival for the love and attention he wished for.

That changed when he saw the detachment with which his mother looked at the newborn baby, she didn't even want to hold her in her arms. He realized his parents did not really love him, nor this baby. He felt like he was hit by a tsunami, he realized nothing he will ever do will be good enough. It was the cry of the baby what pulled him out of the spiral he was falling into. He walked absently to the baby's crib and looked at her with misty eyes. Feeling sympathy or pity for the crying baby, for he knew she was doomed to the same lonely life he's led for the past nine years, he reached out a hand towards her.

The baby reached out with her own hand and grabbed Damian's finger, the boy looking at the baby in shock. Elysia stopped crying and began to babble. Damian described that moment as seeing the rays of the sun for the first time after an eternal storm.

At that moment something warm exploded in his chest, a warmth that expanded to his entire being and covered him like a blanket on a cold winter's day. Damian could not express in words the emotion that enveloped him, not then for it was something he had not felt until that moment (It was love, unconditional love). Facing that fragile life, that defenseless baby, Damian felt for the first time in his short life a purpose: to protect this little and fragile being, to love her and make sure she lives a good life. Unlike him, the baby will never feel lonely or unloved.

His parents had not decided on a name so Damian chose one, he called her Elysia: his little paradise, his promised heaven.

He learned everything he needed to know to raise a child: to cook, to sew, first aid,... Damian played the role of older brother, father and mother to Elysia. He took care of her when she was a baby: he changed her diapers, fed her, bathed her, and pampered her. When she grew up, it was Damian who accompanied her on her first day of kindergarten, it was also him who went to pick her up. When she started school he helped her with her homework, attended every parent meeting (something that initially puzzled the teachers cause he was still a teenager) and every school event.

She was his little sister as well as his daughter, and he did a damn good job juggling raising her and his own education.

Elysia was on a school field trip when she was kidnapped, she was eight years old at the time. Damian couldn't have done anything to prevent that tragedy but that didn't stop him from blaming himself for it.

Elysia Artois was his sun, she brought light and warmth to his lonely existence, she taught him how to smile and laugh, how to love and how to live.

Her death meant an eternal eclipse, there was no more light, no more warmth. The only thing left was anger and pain, vengeance became his purpose and obsession.

He wasn't rash nor reckless, he planned every move and waited for the perfect opportunities- no, he created those opportunities.

He does not regret his death, for he died fulfilling his last promise to Elysia.

He avenged her, he killed every person involved, both directly and indirectly, in her murder.

He got used to being Gawain of Greenwood quite easily, he also had no trouble accepting Gareth and Marian as his parents. They love him and they show it, unlike Mr. and Mrs. Artois.

But a little sibling... That was another story.

Gawain's feelings at the idea of being an older brother were complex and chaotic.

He felt like he was betraying Elysia.

He felt he could never open his heart to a sibling.

He felt he would not be able to love the baby properly.

He... he was scared, terrified and on the brink of a nervous breakdown. It was Marian who calmed him, she did not understand the reason for the malaise of her firstborn but her words and love calmed his troubled heart.

`They say a mother's love can move mountains. Feeling that love feels good, is a nice feeling; being loved.` Gawain tugged on the horse's rein and the horse turned towards the small rocky path that would lead them to the meadow.

***

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