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.”
She laughs and pulls him inside, shutting the door and leaning against it. She doesn’t want to think about Edward, or what kind of disaster the evening is likely to be, so instead she teases, “Now I think you are my prisoner, Sir Knight, at least until the nightmeal. How will you win your freedom?”
A smile tugged at his lips, before he leaned in to kiss her. “Well, how can I do that?”
Summer loops her arms around his neck, smiling through the kiss. “This is a good start,” she says. She tangles her fingers into his curls, tugging and combing and petting, and sways against him.
Percival woke up to find an unknown presence in his his bed. “AAHHHH!” Percival scrambled and stumbled out of bed, doing his best to take the sheets with him for a covering and failing miserably. He saw who it was and relaxed slightly. “Oh. It’s you. Come to torment me some more.” Oh, lovely, I’m still naked. He wrestled a length of sheet from the woman. Oh no. She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Oh, no. He quickly and rigidly sat back down on the bed, gathering more sheets into his lap, just in case.
Percival’s shriek — it was an awfully girly shriek for someone so big — startled Summer right out of a lovely sound sleep. She’d been warm, and safe, and happy; and now she was cold, and decidedly worried, and much more awake than she wanted to be. The knight scrambled away with all the covers, leaving her entirely uncovered, and she flailed around, trying without much success to hide the relevant bits of her anatomy behind her hair.
“What the hell is going on?!”
“I don’t know! You’re the one in my bed!” Oh, blast, now she was naked. He scrambled back off of the bed, shielding his eyes and still holding the sheets to his lap, to go to the linen cupboard. He tossed a blanket behind him, trying his best not to look back. Oh, great, now she’s seen my arse. Oh gods, and I’ve seen her… other parts of her anatomy. Dammit. Damn it all. “What are you even doing here?! And why couldn’t you just use a pillow?”
His /internal/ panic was giving her a headache, much less the external flailing. Snatching the blanket — well, the chivalry of the knights of Camelot was not exaggerated at least — Summer bundled herself up in it and scrambled out of the bed. “There. I’m not in your bed any more. Can you please stop shrieking?”
Then the funny side of the situation struck her — those words, their reactions, his sheer outraged innocence — and Summer leaned against the wall and laughed herself breathless.
“Don’t be, this’ll be lots of fun for us, not everyday one goes exploring.”
“So long as you’re prepared to take him on. I’m not minded to be some false knight’s prisoner until some stronger knight defeats him and takes me captive instead.”
“I have no issues with doing that. Like I said, I don’t mind a good challenge. I wouldn’t let any harm come to you and we’ll gain safe passage.”
“So gallant!” she teased. “I feel safer already.” Swinging on the doorhandle, she bent a merry gaze on him. “So, then, let’s go. The sunlight is calling me!”
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.”
Summer turns her attention inward for a quick moment. “Winter is asleep, and Mihangel is with her anyway. I would not intrude on them.”
”Then of course you may come in,” he says, ushering her in with a wave of his hand, “take a seat.”
She laughs and pulls him inside, shutting the door and leaning against it. She doesn’t want to think about Edward, or what kind of disaster the evening is likely to be, so instead she teases, “Now I think you are my prisoner, Sir Knight, at least until the nightmeal. How will you win your freedom?”
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.”
“Well, not /only/,” Summer murmurs, laughing softly. She pushes the door open and gestures him inside. “Will you be able to pass the time before dinner, or shall I stay and amuse you?”
”I‘m sure I can find something,” he tells her, “unless you want to stay, your sister needs you.”
Summer turns her attention inward for a quick moment. “Winter is asleep, and Mihangel is with her anyway. I would not intrude on them.”
Percival woke up to find an unknown presence in his his bed. “AAHHHH!” Percival scrambled and stumbled out of bed, doing his best to take the sheets with him for a covering and failing miserably. He saw who it was and relaxed slightly. “Oh. It’s you. Come to torment me some more.” Oh, lovely, I’m still naked. He wrestled a length of sheet from the woman. Oh no. She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Oh, no. He quickly and rigidly sat back down on the bed, gathering more sheets into his lap, just in case.
Percival’s shriek — it was an awfully girly shriek for someone so big — startled Summer right out of a lovely sound sleep. She’d been warm, and safe, and happy; and now she was cold, and decidedly worried, and much more awake than she wanted to be. The knight scrambled away with all the covers, leaving her entirely uncovered, and she flailed around, trying without much success to hide the relevant bits of her anatomy behind her hair.
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.”
Tugging him along through halls of pale stone, she explains, “Our father, our birth father, who held this castle, he died when we were young.” Almost unconsciously she slips into a dualist mode of speech, herself and her twin as one unit. “We can’t inherit Dobria. Women can’t inherit. So Mother remarried, to a widowed knight. Edward is his son from that previous marriage.” Summer sighs. “It’s all a bit complicated, I guess.”
She leads him to an upper floor, and pauses in front of the first door there. “These are the rooms for highborn guests, knights and the like.”
Mordred nods, listening intently as Summer explains the situation to him. “It does sound a tad bit complicated,” he admits. “I believe women not being able to inherit is a silly idea,” he adds after a few moments before he turns his attention to the door. “Good thing I’m only a knight and not highborn.”
“Well, not /only/,” Summer murmurs, laughing softly. She pushes the door open and gestures him inside. “Will you be able to pass the time before dinner, or shall I stay and amuse you?”
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.”
She leans back to look into his face. “You do know that he’s only my brother by marriage, right?” Not that the law cares; by blood or by marriage Edward still has quite a lot of power over her. She presses her lips together and takes Mordred’s hand. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
“No, I didn’t, he struts around like he is your biological brother and makes laws like he is as such.” Mordred smiles, “yes, do show me, please.”
Tugging him along through halls of pale stone, she explains, “Our father, our birth father, who held this castle, he died when we were young.” Almost unconsciously she slips into a dualist mode of speech, herself and her twin as one unit. “We can’t inherit Dobria. Women can’t inherit. So Mother remarried, to a widowed knight. Edward is his son from that previous marriage.” Summer sighs. “It’s all a bit complicated, I guess.”
She leads him to an upper floor, and pauses in front of the first door there. “These are the rooms for highborn guests, knights and the like.”
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.”
Summer gives herself up to his kiss, desperately holding on. When they finally break apart, she pulls herself up. “Did anyone show you your rooms? Mother prefers that men don’t go armoured to dinner, and my siblings aren’t my only family.” It’s a feeble attempt to change the subject.
“No, they didn’t,” he tells her, letting go of her slightly, “your brother was far too busy interrogating me to do anything of the sort.”
She leans back to look into his face. “You do know that he’s only my brother by marriage, right?” Not that the law cares; by blood or by marriage Edward still has quite a lot of power over her. She presses her lips together and takes Mordred’s hand. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
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.”
She wraps her hands around his wrists, clinging. “I’m just a bargaining chip to him, a thing he can use to buy what he wants. I don’t care what he says. Don’t leave me here.”
Without so much as another syllable Mordred wraps his arms around her, bringing her lips to his, “I won’t, I promise.”
Summer gives herself up to his kiss, desperately holding on. When they finally break apart, she pulls herself up. “Did anyone show you your rooms? Mother prefers that men don’t go armoured to dinner, and my siblings aren’t my only family.” It’s a feeble attempt to change the subject.
(I’m not expecting this to go anywhere good — but funny, oh yes)