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?”

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

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.”