Since the fall of the Knights of Pendragon Brian Braddock, the once and Future Captain, has slept in the silicon caves beneath his family's manor. With the revival of the Green Knight and the increased supernatural energy Brian awoke to stand in what he assumed was England's hour of need. His awakening brought with it his possession once again by the Pendragon spirit of Lancelot, a warrior with a berserker spirit. As he tried to force himself into the deteriorating situation in Germany, Captain Britain came face to face with the Pendragon Gawain, who set out to stop him. This was a confrontation that fate kept bringing around again and again. Gawain sacrificed himself to stop Brian rushing headlong into Germany and to free Brian from the Lancelot spirit. Now the Captain has to deal with the consequences.

He knelt there in the snow in abject despair. The sword, which had once belonged to Gawain, was pressed deep into the ground as Brian's not inconsiderable form leant against it, using it as a prop to stop his total descent to the floor. His knees were curled under him and were it not for the forcefield, which instinctually surrounded him, then he would be soaked to the skin. He had cast off his facemask, letting it roll in the snow as the wind picked it up this way and that, and let the cold sear against his face. 'As the final blow fell those eyes looked at me and that voice said softly, "You are forgiven." If my victim could forgive me, why cannot I not find it in myself to do the same? I've fallen down again. As surely as if I'd turned back to the booze once more. A good man died for my pride. A fool's pride. Rushing towards my doom, into an opening portal to hell. And for what? Another fight without knowing what was really happening. Some desperate attempt to make up for lost time. Or because some dream told me too.'

Brian shifted his head once more and brought his lips to the cold steel of the blade. The sharpness of the temperature hit him again, but he was only just aware of it through his self-induced haze. He had lost track of how long he had rested like this, how long it had been since he had simply given up the will to fly any further and plummeted to the ground, wherever that might deposit him.

He had fallen to earth in England. Or what to him had been Norway, but which had become part of England during the 21st Century. Time had passed by as he knelt there in some silent prayer, waiting for death or some unknown. 'Why should I keep going? Why should I be the one to survive? Better men than I have died, but here I am given yet another chance. I died once, but they wouldn't let me rest. Not even when the Fury...' Brian raised his weary eyes and looked out on the wastes before him. Nothing but layered snow, nothing to distract him. 'Anything to keep from thinking about dying before. I looked that demon straight in the face and bludgeoned the Fury into submission again, but I still can't get past the fact I died. It took magic to resurrect me. There will be no magic for Gawain. No quick fix.' He pushed against the sword and raised himself.

"Why have I been brought back? Who's using me as a chess piece this time? I won't be used again. I will not play by your rules!!!" he screamed into the air. No response came, but he had not expected one.

He slumped back to the ground, arms wrapped once more about the blade. From behind he heard sounds he initially thought to be the sounds of the wind picking up. As the sounds grew louder, he realised they were the chill sounds of howls carried over the wind. He shifted around, dragging his legs through the snow that had rested against them. His neck craned and he looked in the direction of the sounds. From over the brow of the hill a cloud of disturbed snow could be seen. Brian looked at the sight and wondered whether he should rouse himself or take this as an opportunity to end it all.

From over the hill they came. A pack of slavering hounds, with their eyes fixed upon Brian's knelt form. These were not normal hounds, nor simply a rabid pack. They stood about 4 foot of the ground, their fangs razor-sharp, and their eyes intent as if there was true malevolence behind them. As they reached the bottom of the hill, the pack began to spread out, circling Captain Britain. Each way he turned Brian found himself confronted by one of the dogs. He considered them as options ran through his head. 'If I let them have free reign, do I seriously think they can harm me?' His eyes looked into one of theirs and saw the yellow pupils fixated upon him. 'I might want to give in, but I can think of better ways to go.' Leaving the sword in the ground, the man they called Captain Britain drew himself up and looked around at the pack. "I can't even decide if you boys are sentient." His eyes dropped on his facemask resting under the paw of one of the hounds. The facemask did not simply conceal his identity; it acted as a connection to his suit. A suit forged by the magick of the Otherworld, a focusing instrument for the powers that resided within him, the result of the coupling between his father, a refugee from the Otherworld, and his mother, a human. A suit with intricate sensors constructed into its very fabric.

The dogs stopped circling and all turned to face in towards him. As one they leapt towards him, as Brian braced himself for impact. The first attempted to clamp his jaws around Brian's arm, but the Captain returned the attempt with a vicious swipe, flicking the hound away from the circle. They leapt again, moving now as one. Brian tried to dodge and then extend his forcefield, but their weight pressed down upon him. Again he pushed, trying to levitate away from them, but they crowded him.

As they closed in ever closer the notion of surrender seemed so sweet. The claws bit and tore, with penance welcoming like a lost lover. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of Gawain's sword, imbedded in the ground. One of the hounds pressed his foot against the blade, pushing it, so it began to shift in the earth. His eyes could not leave the blade as it slipped from its hold on the ground. His view was suddenly blocked by one of the dogs pressing his foul breath onto Brian's face. The stench overwhelmed the Captain and gradually replaced the feeling of self-loathing.

He pushed himself up slowly. In his head voices shouted at him. He remembered his first encounter with Kurt Wagner when Brian had been coping very badly with his sister's apparent death. That conversation played over and over again, punctuated by visions of Meggan's sweet face.

Dying meant never seeing her again, not explaining why, and her being left with his disappearance. He would not do that to his worst enemy, let alone the woman he loved. Self-pity was not the answer at the moment.

He pushed upwards and struck out at the one biting his arm. The hound flew from the touch, and Brian was surprised at how easy it had been. From his right side the next dog pressed at him and the Captain responded again. This time his vision was punctuated by the image of his fist colliding with Gawain's face. The Captain stumbled back into another of the creatures, who was rushing up from behind. His knees felt shaky again as he tried to shake the image.

His head turned and his eyes rested on the sword, pushed at an angle into the ground, shifting earth as it was pressed against by one of the hounds. He lunged and grabbed at it, lifting it out in a motion that caught the dog. It responded by whelping loudly and backed off as blood flowed from its wound. As the light reflected off Gawain's blade, Brian's focus was on the blood. He was finding it extremely difficult to cope with at this point in time. His reaction was to buy himself some time and he scattered the creatures as he headed into the sky.

He needed time to think.

From a hillside far away from the clash, a watcher observed the events of the fight. She was a hideous old crone, her skin blue as the night sky. He had passed the first task and roused himself from his depression. The next task awaited him.

Brian landed in a glade, where the trees were dusted with snow. He looked around slowly, scanning for another attack. The hounds had let him go too easily, and he needed time to recover his thoughts. Lying down to die was clearly not an option, so he needed a place for a respite. His eyes settled on a cave past the trees. As good as anything, he thought. A little too convenient though. Again he looked about. Might as well put my head into the Lion's mouth.

He gently lifted his frame into the air and hovered over the deep footprints he had left behind in the whiteness. Reaching back he tried to fasten the sword to his back, but could find nothing to hold it fast. Instead he cradled it in his arms and flew swiftly into the cave.

There was very little need for a light source. The suit was designed for much harsher environments than this and so he settled down against one of the less jagged walls to rest a little.

The wind blew into the cave infrequently and Brian allowed himself to actually rest. His thoughts were on Meggan as he attempted to block out another visions that might present themselves. But in the corner of his dreams stood the same man, no matter how many times he tried to change his thoughts. The man had long brown curly hair and a slight smile always dancing on his lips. He appeared to be dressed in some sort of Celtic attire, and at his feet sat a wolf and a sow. Brian's shift into sleep was thrown as a stag appeared from nowhere and charged at him. He opened his eyes and sat up with a start. The cave was still here, no stag in sight, but in a now illuminated corner sat a man. The man from the vision. He smiled again and in a soft Irish accent said, "Hello Brian, we must talk. My name is Gwydion. We are both seeking penitence."

Thank you for reading this Limited Series spinning out of events in Excalibur. Originally Brian's journey was supposed to take him into Germany when I was going to write the Germany Oneshot as part of Paradise Lost. Duties and story ideas got shifted around and the Germany story became so packed that Brian had no place within it to adequately tell his story. I then attempted to find someone to script the story I had plotted out, but the initial problem there was that no set villain to pin the action on, and with my messing about the gaps in people's schedules quickly filled up. Another problem was that the starting point for Brian in this issue had not been finalised, as Excalibur 13 wasn't finished to show people. Again my fault and given this issue is being written concurrent with Excalibur 13, not something I've ever gotten around to solving. So I looked towards co plotting the story and have ended up writing it on my own, as the story has fairly easily flowed from the initial image of the Penitent Knight slumped over a sword on a snow covered landscape.

I've tried to avoid the easy routes with a Captain Britain story, so I avoided an early idea of making the villain the Black Knight. One of my original starting points for my depiction of Brian within MFS was the Timeslip version of Captain Britain as done by Matt Smith. Looking over that piece led me to the notion of the Once and Future Captain. Brian is nothing but the greatest hero of England within the Marvel Universe. Unlike Captain America, Brian is not a pristine character. He is definitely flawed, facing up to his binge drinking after the apparent death of his sister, Psylocke, through the utter fear on his face as he came face to face with the creature which had already slain him. Brian has a tendency to being brought back from the dead. And so I had him lie in slumber, under the watchful gaze of his queen, Meggan.

So with this tale, and the last one in Excalibur 13, I've brought Brian out of his slumber and set him on a different road with a different focus. He'll carry the memory of Gawain with him and the sword on the back to remind should he ever forget. He'll also have to deal with those currently with the Pendragon spirits, who, through the link, know what happened. I don't intend to come straight back to Brian in Excalibur, and may well deal with his wife before I touch upon the Captain again.

Any comments or questions on this issue either on the MFS msg. board or to me at Starman26@hotmail.com