Tag Archives: fated!verse

It takes a while to track him down; Camelot is not a small place, even just the castle. Finally Summer finds him in the armory, putting away his weapons after practise. “Mordred.” There’s only one door, so she stands in it, trying to look a little intimidating. It’s hard to be angry at him, though; her voice comes out more worried. “Mordred. What are you hiding from me?”

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 watches him down the corridor, bewildered and hurt. This isn’t like the first time they fought — she trusts his heart now, and believes he trusts hers. So why won’t he tell her? What is he protecting her from?

It’s horrible. She swipes at the tears on her face, more rolling down every time she blinks. Out. She has to get out, from the castle, from Camelot entire. She has to not think about it, though it’s already too late; the fear has already begun.

She forces composure, holds her head high. Turning the other direction, she makes her way out of the castle, out of the town, blindly walking through the forest with no thought of where she’s going.

        Mordred had left under the cover of darkness, his footsteps echoing along the cobblestone, the hood of his cloak shielding his face. He couldn’t stay here anymore; the task was far too impossible and everywhere he looked all he could see was her.

      When he had come upon the camp he hadn’t known but the only thing that alerted him to the fact he was in the right place was the sword’s tip pressing into the skin on his back. “Back so soon Sir Mordred?”

Summer had walked out of Camelot without thought, intent only on running away from the pain. At home, in Dover, it would have been fine; she knew those forests like the beat of her own heart, and there was no chance of getting lost. In the forests of Camelot, it was a whole different thing.

It’s been hours, and she’s never been so lost in her life. She’s far out of reach of anyone she could touch with her magic, and on foot she could be almost anywhere by now. Hopelessly, she sits down with her back to a tree and just cries for a while, lost and alone and afraid. When her tears run dry, leaving her raw, the night has mostly closed in, and the air is chill.

She gives up the idea of finding her way back to Camelot, making a tiny fire with her magic and curling up next it.

It takes a while to track him down; Camelot is not a small place, even just the castle. Finally Summer finds him in the armory, putting away his weapons after practise. “Mordred.” There’s only one door, so she stands in it, trying to look a little intimidating. It’s hard to be angry at him, though; her voice comes out more worried. “Mordred. What are you hiding from me?”

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.

His words snap something inside her, overwhelming her sense of his emotions. “For my own good?” she spits, anger redoubling. “/For my own good/? What do you know of my good? Do you think — do you think I cannot protect myself? I’m not, not strong enough, not — damn you, Mordred. I am not fragile, I am not some helpless maiden.” The tears which slide down her face are born now of fury, and she sucks in a harsh breath.

“Fine. When you believe that you can trust me with honesty, come and find me.”

         His answer, straight away would have been a no, a pure and simple no. He knew, as well as anyone that she could look after these people. But her life, and those of the citizens of Camelot depended on her hating him, on her leaving. Mordred sucked in a breath as he moved past her and out into the hall, leaving her to stand by herself in the door of the armoury, his eyes stinging as he walked.    

                               This was, by far, the hardest thing he had ever done.

She watches him down the corridor, bewildered and hurt. This isn’t like the first time they fought — she trusts his heart now, and believes he trusts hers. So why won’t he tell her? What is he protecting her from?

It’s horrible. She swipes at the tears on her face, more rolling down every time she blinks. Out. She has to get out, from the castle, from Camelot entire. She has to not think about it, though it’s already too late; the fear has already begun.

She forces composure, holds her head high. Turning the other direction, she makes her way out of the castle, out of the town, blindly walking through the forest with no thought of where she’s going.

It takes a while to track him down; Camelot is not a small place, even just the castle. Finally Summer finds him in the armory, putting away his weapons after practise. “Mordred.” There’s only one door, so she stands in it, trying to look a little intimidating. It’s hard to be angry at him, though; her voice comes out more worried. “Mordred. What are you hiding from me?”

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 flinches back, wholly involuntarily, and for the first time fears him a little. “Please,” she pleads back, in return. “Only tell me, don’t lie to me.” Tears stand in her eyes. “Why do you insist on lying to me?”

        ‘Please’

                                                 ’Don’t make this harder than it already is.’

        He could see the fear in her eyes and receded slightly, taking a step back. “Because it’s for your own good and has got nothing to do with you, Summer,” Mordred tells her, “now get out of my way, please.” His voice breaks involuntarily in the last sentence and he does his best to hide the strain. ‘This is the only way.’

His words snap something inside her, overwhelming her sense of his emotions. “For my own good?” she spits, anger redoubling. “/For my own good/? What do you know of my good? Do you think — do you think I cannot protect myself? I’m not, not strong enough, not — damn you, Mordred. I am not fragile, I am not some helpless maiden.” The tears which slide down her face are born now of fury, and she sucks in a harsh breath.

“Fine. When you believe that you can trust me with honesty, come and find me.”

It takes a while to track him down; Camelot is not a small place, even just the castle. Finally Summer finds him in the armory, putting away his weapons after practise. “Mordred.” There’s only one door, so she stands in it, trying to look a little intimidating. It’s hard to be angry at him, though; her voice comes out more worried. “Mordred. What are you hiding from me?”

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 pulls herself up as tall as she possibly can, face set.”No. Not until you stop lying to me.” It’s hard to hold on to the anger when what she wants to do is ease the worry away, but she can’t do that if he won’t tell her. “This can’t work if you lie to me!” Changing tack slightly, she adds, coaxing, “Maybe I can help, whatever it is.”

        A form of a permanent frown etches itself into his forehead, looking over her for a moment. There was no way he was going to tell her and there was no way he was going to hurt her by trying to move her. “Summer,” he hisses, “this doesn’t concern you,” he tells her, “now move.” The look on his face was one he hadn’t worn in a long time, one of danger and warning, one that caused his eyes to darken and shadows to dance across his face. “Please.”

She flinches back, wholly involuntarily, and for the first time fears him a little. “Please,” she pleads back, in return. “Only tell me, don’t lie to me.” Tears stand in her eyes. “Why do you insist on lying to me?”

It takes a while to track him down; Camelot is not a small place, even just the castle. Finally Summer finds him in the armory, putting away his weapons after practise. “Mordred.” There’s only one door, so she stands in it, trying to look a little intimidating. It’s hard to be angry at him, though; her voice comes out more worried. “Mordred. What are you hiding from me?”

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.

“Fine. Then I will find a room that has only one door, and lock us in it, until you tell me what is worrying you.” She stalks across the floor, hands still on hips, to fetch up on the other side of the bench he’s standing at. “I don’t like it when you hide things from me, things that make you upset.” Whatever it is, he feels very strongly about it, and she wonders if maybe she would do better to try to take his mind off it, instead of prying it out of him.

       ”It has got nothing to do with you,” he tells her.  

                                                                       A lie, pure and simple. 

                                        It had everything to do with her.

           Mordred walked forward, stopping a few feet from the door to the armoury. He needed to get out, he couldn’t breathe, it felt like someone was suffocating him. “May I get through?”

She pulls herself up as tall as she possibly can, face set.”No. Not until you stop lying to me.” It’s hard to hold on to the anger when what she wants to do is ease the worry away, but she can’t do that if he won’t tell her. “This can’t work if you lie to me!” Changing tack slightly, she adds, coaxing, “Maybe I can help, whatever it is.”

It takes a while to track him down; Camelot is not a small place, even just the castle. Finally Summer finds him in the armory, putting away his weapons after practise. “Mordred.” There’s only one door, so she stands in it, trying to look a little intimidating. It’s hard to be angry at him, though; her voice comes out more worried. “Mordred. What are you hiding from me?”

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.

“How many times must I remind you? You /cannot/ lie to me, I will always know.” She fists her hands against her hips. Eyes flashing, she announces, “We’re not leaving this room until you tell me.”

        He cocked a brow, chewing the inside of his cheek as he watched her. “You’re sorely mistaken if you believe that there is only one way out of this room, Summer.” Almost instantaneously he had decided that the best way to tell her was to not tell her, to make her hate him so that she would leave and they wouldn’t harm her. For her to hate him would tear him apart, but he would rather have her hate him than give her up willingly and watch her die, or keep her in danger. 

“Fine. Then I will find a room that has only one door, and lock us in it, until you tell me what is worrying you.” She stalks across the floor, hands still on hips, to fetch up on the other side of the bench he’s standing at. “I don’t like it when you hide things from me, things that make you upset.” Whatever it is, he feels very strongly about it, and she wonders if maybe she would do better to try to take his mind off it, instead of prying it out of him.

It takes a while to track him down; Camelot is not a small place, even just the castle. Finally Summer finds him in the armory, putting away his weapons after practise. “Mordred.” There’s only one door, so she stands in it, trying to look a little intimidating. It’s hard to be angry at him, though; her voice comes out more worried. “Mordred. What are you hiding from me?”

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.

“How many times must I remind you? You /cannot/ lie to me, I will always know.” She fists her hands against her hips. Eyes flashing, she announces, “We’re not leaving this room until you tell me.”