Ugh, an hour to cover 3 miles.
Monthly Archives: October 2013
It takes a while to track him down; Camelot is not a small place, even just the castle. Finally Summer finds him in the armory, putting away his weapons after practise. “Mordred.” There’s only one door, so she stands in it, trying to look a little intimidating. It’s hard to be angry at him, though; her voice comes out more worried. “Mordred. What are you hiding from me?”
xregicide-deactivated20140812:
Mordred stopped, placing his vambrace down on the bench, his heart sinking. For a moment he concentrates completely on his armour, how could he answer such a question? Telling her would mean her life and the lives of those whom called Camelot home. An impossible predicament.
The young knight turns to face her, his fingers brushing lightly against the metal of his armour. “I’m not hiding anything” he tells her simply.
Summer laughs a little crazily. “I don’t have a home. My family sent me away, Mordred. You’re my home now, and even you don’t want me. How can you help me get to a place that doesn’t exist?”
He swallowed, guilt rising up in him. He did want her but he couldn’t. “Go back to Camelot, Merlin will look after you, so will Guinevere and Arthur,” he pleads.
“They don’t know I exist!” she flares. “The King, the queen, they are going to care about the unwanted daughter of a nobleman in Devon? Don’t be stupid. It’s /you/ Camelot needs, the finest knight in the kingdom.” Much more quietly, she adds, “I can’t be there if you aren’t.”
It takes a while to track him down; Camelot is not a small place, even just the castle. Finally Summer finds him in the armory, putting away his weapons after practise. “Mordred.” There’s only one door, so she stands in it, trying to look a little intimidating. It’s hard to be angry at him, though; her voice comes out more worried. “Mordred. What are you hiding from me?”
xregicide-deactivated20140812:
Mordred stopped, placing his vambrace down on the bench, his heart sinking. For a moment he concentrates completely on his armour, how could he answer such a question? Telling her would mean her life and the lives of those whom called Camelot home. An impossible predicament.
The young knight turns to face her, his fingers brushing lightly against the metal of his armour. “I’m not hiding anything” he tells her simply.
“You know Camelot. You belong in Camelot. Why did you leave? Go back, Mordred.”
‘Go back without me.’
“No,” he tells her sternly. “I don’t belong there, I never have and never will. I’ve never belonged anywhere, that much in my life is evident,” Mordred says. “I don’t have a choice, but you do, and I’ll help you get home.”
Summer laughs a little crazily. “I don’t have a home. My family sent me away, Mordred. You’re my home now, and even you don’t want me. How can you help me get to a place that doesn’t exist?”
”Keep in mind that I do not want to do this.”
“That’s hurtful. Why not?”
It takes a while to track him down; Camelot is not a small place, even just the castle. Finally Summer finds him in the armory, putting away his weapons after practise. “Mordred.” There’s only one door, so she stands in it, trying to look a little intimidating. It’s hard to be angry at him, though; her voice comes out more worried. “Mordred. What are you hiding from me?”
xregicide-deactivated20140812:
Mordred stopped, placing his vambrace down on the bench, his heart sinking. For a moment he concentrates completely on his armour, how could he answer such a question? Telling her would mean her life and the lives of those whom called Camelot home. An impossible predicament.
The young knight turns to face her, his fingers brushing lightly against the metal of his armour. “I’m not hiding anything” he tells her simply.
Looking up at him, still somehow so strong and beautiful, Summer says, “If no one deserves this place, why are you here?”
The corners of the druid’s mouth twitch ever so slightly and he removes his gaze from her. He’d resisted the urge to say that it was because it’s what he deserved. “Because it’s the only place I know.”
“You know Camelot. You belong in Camelot. Why did you leave? Go back, Mordred.”
‘Go back without me.’
‘I would be in that sandwich in a heartbeat’ *dies*
*halos* I speak only truth.
flatmate!au
” — well, no, you don’t really get to know who your neighbours are before you move in, Sam!” Summer laughs. “But I lucked out. I seem to have landed in a whole group of kindred spirits, it’s just a shame most of them are already paired off to each other. Seriously, it’s like incest or something.”
The people on the other side of the voice chat speak, and she grins and laughs again. “Fine, fine, I won’t use that word. But there are a lot of cute people here and I can’t touch! Merlin and Mordred are together, and let me tell you, I would be in that sandwich in a heartbeat. /Doc/ would be in that sandwich. I’m pretty sure Tony and Xavier are going out, too.” She sighs. “Yeah, I know, but there is one straight couple! … are you serious? I would go out with any of them in a heartbeat. Aithusa, Arthur — maybe not Sherlock. I’m not sure Sherlock has a libido.”
It takes a while to track him down; Camelot is not a small place, even just the castle. Finally Summer finds him in the armory, putting away his weapons after practise. “Mordred.” There’s only one door, so she stands in it, trying to look a little intimidating. It’s hard to be angry at him, though; her voice comes out more worried. “Mordred. What are you hiding from me?”
xregicide-deactivated20140812:
Mordred stopped, placing his vambrace down on the bench, his heart sinking. For a moment he concentrates completely on his armour, how could he answer such a question? Telling her would mean her life and the lives of those whom called Camelot home. An impossible predicament.
The young knight turns to face her, his fingers brushing lightly against the metal of his armour. “I’m not hiding anything” he tells her simply.
“I’m a murderer.”
Summer should care that he fled Camelot; should be grateful he found her — or she found him; should reach to ease his self-loathing. It’s what she is.
Except what she is is lost under pain and self-hatred of her own. “This,” she gestures limply around the bandit camp, “is what I deserve. Leave me here. Go back.”
Mordred got to his feet. “No one, no matter how bad a person they believe they are, deserves to be left here, to be left like this,” he tells her, gesturing around to the camp. “I’m a murderer too,” he says, allowing his hand to fall to his side, “you did it out of protection, that does not make you a murderer.”
Looking up at him, still somehow so strong and beautiful, Summer says, “If no one deserves this place, why are you here?”
“Hey, our common friend the coffee monster told me to come and talk with you.” Clint chuckles and sits down.
“Oh yeah? Were there specifics? Did you leave him with plenty of caffeine?” Summer glances up from her laptop, grinning. “Or is this him doing that thing where he’s afraid he’ll screw it up if he tries to … make his friends be friends?”
“Thank you.” Clint sits down and leans back on the cushions. “Well, he’s familiar. I was very close with Tony,” he responds. “So, what’s the other me been doing, do you know?” Is he still working with SHIELD. Should I be hiding again. Those are few what he wants to ask but he does not want to reveal too much yet. “Is there a problem with me getting close to him? Has he spoken of me?” he inquires instead.
Summer shakes her head. “I honestly couldn’t tell you what Agent Barton is doing. Not only is he higher level than I am, but the stuff he does and the stuff I do doesn’t remotely overlap. The last rumour I heard put him with Agent Romanoff and the Captain, though.”
She studies him, chin in her hands. “Tony talks about everything,” she says, deliberately evasive. “He’s talked about you before, but so much has happened … I don’t mind you getting close to him, but,” she hesitates. “You do know who the other member of our little trio is, don’t you?”
Clint listens to her attentively and is only little disappointed at not finding out more, as he wasn’t really expecting much to start with. The hawk lets out a small sigh, running his fingers through his hair, pondering on his choices. “It’s okay, I wasn’t sure you’d know. We are not in the easiest job to be found out much of,” he answers, ignoring her mention of the Black Widow and Captain completely. The way she avoids telling him of Tony stings a lot but he knows she has no reason to offer trust or information for him, especially when he’s practically a stranger to her.
Clint doesn’t like admitting his lack of knowledge but can do little else currently in his situation. “I don’t know who your third is or that you even had one but I have nothing against triads. I was happily part of one myself. Our triad was not well received mostly due to the third person being who he was. We had our troubles but stayed together through them all until..” His voice trails off and he turn his head away to hide the tears threatening to fall from his eyes.
“Hey, hey,” she says softly, and puts a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. Maybe you can find them again. I’m sure Tony can help with that.” She squeezes, mildly bemused at the muscle under her hand.
“You might not want to stay here, after all. You see … Loki lives here.”