xregicide-deactivated20140812:
Mordred grunts, his eyes fluttering open after a few seconds and he smiles. “Good morning” he mutters, moving into a sitting position “you didn’t have to.”
“For so long as the high king forbids magic in his lands I do not think we can be at peace.” He slants a glance toward Mordred. “We would not wage war into his lands, but nevertheless we cannot be at peace.” Edward flicks a pebble off the top of the wall. “I cannot see any man worthy of my sister on only a glance. You wear the crest of Camelot — do you think that alone makes you worthy of her?”
A pain spread across his chest at the mention of magic being banned in Camelot. “Arthur is not like Uther,” he tells him, placing a hand on the top of the wall, casting his gaze down to the ground below. “He does not drown children or steal their parents away from them.” In the last part of his sentence there was disdain, an anger that he had held towards Uther for a long time. “And no, I do not believe that what I wear on my shoulder is cause for anyone to believe I am worth something.”
“Yet magic is still forbidden, on pain of death. She would go, and would not hear of danger, but now Summer is returned I do not think she will go to Camelot again. The danger is too great now for her.” Edward’s words are almost idle, a mere commentary on fact. “She must stay here in Dobria and be wed to advantage. Father has allowed her — you will have seen how unwomanly headstrong she is — father allows her far too much leeway, for my lady mother’s sake.”