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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.
“It’s not what I want at all, but you won’t accept what I want! I didn’t think I was asking so much, just to be with you. I guess this must be /my/ fate, to be lied to, to be abandoned and unwanted.” Summer looks at the palms of her hands, heart breaking. “Better I should die, because I can’t do this again. Then you’ll be free.”
Mordred, against his better wishes turns back towards her. “Don’t you understand?” Mordred asks, “you weren’t part of my fate, they were going to kill you so I left.” For a moment he remains silent. “You can threaten me with anything but don’t you dare threaten me with killing yourself, Summer, ever.”
All the anger goes out of her abruptly, leaving only weariness and an aching void. “Who is ‘they’?” she mumbles, then shakes her head. “No. It doesn’t matter.” She starts to shiver, and goes to her knees again. “What do you want me to do, Mor— Sir Mordred? I will do what you say.”