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!”

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.

“If it’s nothing to do with me,” she sobs, unable to help herself, “then /why/ can’t you tell me? Why do you insist on sending me away? Why, why did you leave your home, the place you belonged, to come here, to live in, in, in anger and shadows and — ” As usual, she cannot find the words. “I don’t understand! Were we not happy?”

       ”We were,” he tells her, knotting his hand in his curls. “I just- things happened, people happened and I-” he begins but he shakes his head. “You would understand, fate, it’s complicated.”

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.”

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 exhaustion, it’s shock, it’s frustration … whatever it is, she starts to cry, hating herself for it. He will believe she’s trying to manipulate him with it, and that hurts, and makes her cry harder. She buries her face in her hands — those terrible hands with fresh blood on them — to try to muffle it, to try to hide from those blue eyes that see too much.

      Mordred huffs, not knowing what to do with the entire situation. “Summer, please, don’t cry- it has got nothing to do with you, please.”

“If it’s nothing to do with me,” she sobs, unable to help herself, “then /why/ can’t you tell me? Why do you insist on sending me away? Why, why did you leave your home, the place you belonged, to come here, to live in, in, in anger and shadows and — ” As usual, she cannot find the words. “I don’t understand! Were we not happy?”

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.

Sulkily, childishly, she turns her head away from his hand. “I won’t go unless you stay with me.”

       ”I‘ll stay with you, but I can’t come back with you.”

It’s exhaustion, it’s shock, it’s frustration … whatever it is, she starts to cry, hating herself for it. He will believe she’s trying to manipulate him with it, and that hurts, and makes her cry harder. She buries her face in her hands — those terrible hands with fresh blood on them — to try to muffle it, to try to hide from those blue eyes that see too much.