destinedtokill:

iamthefirechild:

The swordsman was a Knight of Camelot! Summer studied him for a moment, as he studied her, wondering vaguely what he saw. He was tall, and dark, with pale eyes. She wondered if he ever smiled; he seemed so serious. And young, too; she hadn’t expected that when he came around.

“It wasn’t entirely my idea,” she admitted, in answer to his question. “I was ahorse, and armed, and then there were bandits, more than I could handle alone. They took me captive, but I think they considered me helpless because I am a woman, and I was able to slip through their watch.” She neglected to mention she’d used her magic to encourage that view.

“I would be deeply grateful, Sir Mordred, if you would escort me the rest of the way. I’ve nothing to offer you in return, though.”

     _{Mordred gave a slow nod in understanding, “You shouldn’t have come alone, the woods are dangerous, m’lady,” he stated. The woman didn’t seem to be lying, as much as Mordred could tell, so he had no issues with walking her to the castle. She looked a little out of place in the forest, as did most women of high stature, but she had been incredibly easy to spot with her fiery hair. That must have been how the bandits had found her.}

        “I need nothing in thanks,” Mordred answered, a slight smile twitching at the corners of his lips in a way of displaying sincerity. He gestured for her to walk with him as he made his way back towards the path that he had previously gone askew from.

Summer caught the smile and returned it. “I wondered if you ever smiled,” she commented. “The honor of the Knights of Camelot is legendary; not so their grimness.” She followed neatly, a certain tension easing from the set of her shoulders at the prospect of his protection. “I knnew how many days the trip would take ahorse, but I’ve no idea how far I’ve managed to come on foot. Is the city far?”

destinedtokill:

iamthefirechild:

Summer froze when the sword caressed her spine. Please don’t be bandits, she prayed. The man didn’t seem like a bandit, but she’d been fooled before.

Which was how she came to be afoot, approaching Camelot, weary and all but penniless.

“My name is Summer. Summer Rainault. I am a lady of the southern shore, come to visit the King’s court.” She lifted her hands from her tattered skirts, showing them empty. No weapons hung at her hip. Those, too, were gone, with her horse and baggage. “Please, I mean no harm.”

    _{Mordred paused for a minute, considering that, before withdrawing his weapon and returning the sword to its sheath. A moment later, he showed his face by walking around the woman to get a proper look at her. He hadn’t heard of her nor seen her before, so she could have easily been lying.}

       ”To visit?” he questioned, studying her expression for any signs that she was not telling the truth. “You know it is dangerous to be in the woods alone without any protection?” he added after a minute, finding it strange that she was completely unarmed. “I am Mordred, Knight of Camelot; would you like me to accompany you to the kingdom?”

The swordsman was a Knight of Camelot! Summer studied him for a moment, as he studied her, wondering vaguely what he saw. He was tall, and dark, with pale eyes. She wondered if he ever smiled; he seemed so serious. And young, too; she hadn’t expected that when he came around.

“It wasn’t entirely my idea,” she admitted, in answer to his question. “I was ahorse, and armed, and then there were bandits, more than I could handle alone. They took me captive, but I think they considered me helpless because I am a woman, and I was able to slip through their watch.” She neglected to mention she’d used her magic to encourage that view.

“I would be deeply grateful, Sir Mordred, if you would escort me the rest of the way. I’ve nothing to offer you in return, though.”

destinedtokill:

iamthefirechild
theonly-consultingdetective

   _{A casual stroll through the woods was never unheard of for the druid, which was how he found himself coming across an oddly dressed person near the walls of the city. He was sure that he did not know them which meant they were either a traveller or here for less savoury purposes. Mordred would have to find out why they were here; thankfully though, they had not seen him yet.}

   He used this advantage to approach them from behind, and a couple of steps later he had his sword pressed gently against the stranger’s back—between their shoulder blades. 

     _{”State your name and intent,” he demanded.}

Summer froze when the sword caressed her spine. Please don’t be bandits, she prayed. The man didn’t seem like a bandit, but she’d been fooled before.

Which was how she came to be afoot, approaching Camelot, weary and all but penniless.

“My name is Summer. Summer Rainault. I am a lady of the southern shore, come to visit the King’s court.” She lifted her hands from her tattered skirts, showing them empty. No weapons hung at her hip. Those, too, were gone, with her horse and baggage. “Please, I mean no harm.”