“Wake up,” Summer murmurs in Mordred’s ear. She kisses his cheek. “I’ve brought you breakfast, fy nhariad.”

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

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.”  

“Mmmm. On our picnic, I think.” She tugs on his hair again. “You shall not escape.”

        “Now, why on earth would I want to?”

“That,” Summer says, trying to get him to walk backward to the bed, “is a very good question, cariad.”