sirmordred-thedruid:

xregicide-deactivated20140812:

      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.

        Mordred stood by the window, looking down into the small citadel with his arms folded over his chest, his black armour glinting in the candle light. “We are to leave soon,” he hears a voice from behind him and he glances up, the face of a serving girl reflecting in the glass and he nods. “The Lady Morgana told me to tell you sir,” she says timidly and he half turns towards her. “Thank you, you may go.”

        It hadn’t been all that hard, finding Morgana, it was actually quite simple but it did not mean that he did not pay repentance for what he had done earlier to her. Mordred moved from the window, looking over the map that lay spread out on the table, his gaze finding one word in particular. Camlann. It would be there that they made their stand. He could remember it, as if it had only happened moments ago when word had been sent to him of Kara, his childhood friend and how Arthur had killed her. The pain was still there, and it would never go away.

     Their journey had been a long and tiring one, and sleep had eluded him most nights. His priority keeping Morgana safe and their men in check. He didn’t want to think about what would await him at Camlann and he didn’t care; all he knew was that Arthur would pay, and pay dearly. 

Summer had never found out the names of, or even any more information about, the druids who had rescued her. They had guided her to Camelot’s outskirts and left her there, melting back into the forest.

She’d not intended to seek out Sir Leon, or Merlin, but that choice was taken away from her too — Merlin came to her door the next day, taking her up to the castle. Heartbroken, she simply went along, and it only took Gaius and Merlin a few questions to have most of the story out of her. The shock of finding out that Mordred had been right, that other folk in Camelot knew of them, were glad of them even, almost penetrated the numbness.

So she found herself on a horse at Guinevere’s side, following the army to a place called Camlann. What she was supposed to do there, she didn’t know — only that something was being kept from her. She couldn’t make herself care.

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

xregicide-deactivated20140812:

      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 takes Summer a minute to find the energy to get back up. She takes a step and halts, one hand on a tree trunk. “Yes, my lord. Merlin. Or Leon.”

        Mordred drew his sword, handing the hilt to her as his fingers curled around the blade, the metal cutting into his hand slightly but he ignored it. “Take this, for your safety, I must take my leave.”

“Your sword is too heavy for me, my lord. And you will need it.” She summons all her courage, everything she has left, but cannot find a smile for him. Instead she squares her shoulders and takes a step, and another step. Away from him.

Away.

She doesn’t know where she’s going. She was already lost before they captured her, and for all she knows they’re in Caerleon by now, or Mercia. Ismere. It doesn’t matter. Just one foot in front of the other.

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

xregicide-deactivated20140812:

      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.

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.”

       He chewed his cheek. “There is no need to address me as that, I am no longer a knight,” he tells her, “go to Camelot, find Merlin or Leon, tell them I sent you, or that you need help, they will help you.”

It takes Summer a minute to find the energy to get back up. She takes a step and halts, one hand on a tree trunk. “Yes, my lord. Merlin. Or Leon.”

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

xregicide-deactivated20140812:

      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.”

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

xregicide-deactivated20140812:

      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.

“Then walk away. Just walk away right now. You say you choose neither, but you still stand there, waiting for me to let you lock me up somewhere you think safe, somewhere away from the only home I want, the only thing I’ve ever in this world wanted for myself.” Summer turns away, shoulders shaking. “I won’t even watch. Go.”

       Mordred sighs, looking over her for a moment before he speaks. “Fine, if that is what you want then I’ll leave,” he tells her, turning from her and beginning to walk off. Now he knew where he was going, and this time he wouldn’t be back.

“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.”

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

xregicide-deactivated20140812:

      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.

She bursts out, “Fates can be changed!” She wants to say more, so much more, wise things about broken stones and the wearing away by water, about change and hope and love. About how facing one’s fate is the only way to keep from being destroyed by it.

But she looks at him, and knows he won’t hear her. So instead, she says another thing, another true thing, knowing it will hurt him.

“I would rather die here, now, than be without you. I will not go anywhere without you stay with me.”

           Anger welled up in him. “Summer, you don’t understand!” he tells her. “My fate can’t change, it was written since before I was born, just as Merlin’s, just as Arthur’s it can’t change.” Mordred sighs. “You need to go, I beg of you.”

“How can I possibly understand when you refuse to tell me anything?! You think — you think I’ve to do with your fate? I’m nothing, I’m no one, useless, unimportant as you are at pains to impress upon me.” Sparks are forming in the air around her, and the ground is steaming. “If you wish to be rid of me so, leave me here to die!”