sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

xregicide-deactivated20140812:

      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.”  

“Should I not care for the well-being of my sister?” Edward leans on the wall, relaxing his posture. “I’ll not see her with any man save the best. One who would hold his honour in battle, yet treat her with all the gentility her birth deserves.” He pauses. “We have few allies here, caught between Camelot and Odin.”

       At his comment Mordred had to resist raising a brow but instead, climbed the stairs to meet him. “And you do not believe me to be worthy of such,” Mordred tells him, chewing his cheek gently, “she deserves more than what her birth gives her.” He observes him for a moment. “Yes, well, we are working towards peace, although some people have other ideas.”

“For so long as the high king forbids magic in his lands I do not think we can be at peace.” He slants a glance toward Mordred. “We would not wage war into his lands, but nevertheless we cannot be at peace.” Edward flicks a pebble off the top of the wall. “I cannot see any man worthy of my sister on only a glance. You wear the crest of Camelot — do you think that alone makes you worthy of her?”

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

xregicide-deactivated20140812:

      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.”  

“My sister does not make friends easily.” Edward keeps his face forward, the picture of a serious knight. “You must be something out of the ordinary to be such a friend to her.” He mounts a set of stairs, pausing at the top to look out over the wall. “Tell me, Sir Mordred, what has a knight of Camelot, which land disdains magic, to do with my sister in such a way that she would turn to you for comfort in her sore need?”

        The druid looks up at him, swallowing slightly. “To be there for her, to be a shoulder to lean on, an ear to listen, someone to comfort her,” Mordred tells him. “Now may I ask you a question?” The younger knight asks, not bothering for his response. “Why do you care so much?”

“Should I not care for the well-being of my sister?” Edward leans on the wall, relaxing his posture. “I’ll not see her with any man save the best. One who would hold his honour in battle, yet treat her with all the gentility her birth deserves.” He pauses. “We have few allies here, caught between Camelot and Odin.”

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

xregicide-deactivated20140812:

      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.”  

“Walk with me.” Edward begins a loop about the courtyards, castlefolk scattering before his stride. “How do you come to know my sister?”

       He swallowed, following along beside him, his crimson cloak gleaming in the sun. “Well, I met Summer in the castle and we’ve been friends ever since,” he tells him, knowing full well that Edward might not believe it.

“My sister does not make friends easily.” Edward keeps his face forward, the picture of a serious knight. “You must be something out of the ordinary to be such a friend to her.” He mounts a set of stairs, pausing at the top to look out over the wall. “Tell me, Sir Mordred, what has a knight of Camelot, which land disdains magic, to do with my sister in such a way that she would turn to you for comfort in her sore need?”

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

xregicide-deactivated20140812:

      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.”  

Before they get to the door, though, Edward emerges, hands clasped behind his back. “Sir Mordred!” he calls. “A word, if you would be so kind.”

Mordred’s jaw locked, turning slightly to see Edward and internally, the young knight sighs. “Of course.”

“Walk with me.” Edward begins a loop about the courtyards, castlefolk scattering before his stride. “How do you come to know my sister?”

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

xregicide-deactivated20140812:

      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.”  

It’s only an hour or so before they reach Dobria Castle, and Edward swings down easily in the courtyard, stripping off his gloves before he turns to lift Summer down from the saddle. A handful of pages turn up quickly to take the horses, and Summer casts an appealing glance back to Mordred before Edward hurries her up the steps.

A freckle-faced urchin page stops at Mordred’s elbow and says, “Take your horse, milord? Drew’ll lead ye within, see to yer needs.”

       Mordred smiles, sliding down from the saddle as he hands the boy the reins. “Thank you kindly,” he says, removing his sword from the saddle and placing it back at his waist before he heads up the stairs.

Before they get to the door, though, Edward emerges, hands clasped behind his back. “Sir Mordred!” he calls. “A word, if you would be so kind.”

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

xregicide-deactivated20140812:

      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.”  

There’s a flicker in Edward’s dark gaze when Mordred replies in the old language of Dover. Summer swallows hard, glancing from one to the other, and her voice is still high as she says, “Oh don’t, please don’t. Please, just take me home, don’t.”

Her brother glances down at her shining hair and sighs. “Very well, sister. It would be ill-done to not at least resupply him before he must return to Camelot.” He jerks his horse’s head away from trying to nibble the bridle of Mordred’s, and sets off down the road.

        He shot her a look of apology but in those few moments something had taken over him. Perhaps it was because he was in the presence of someone who seemed to believe that he was higher than the gods. Mordred petted his horse gently, attempting to calm her and he followed on.

It’s only an hour or so before they reach Dobria Castle, and Edward swings down easily in the courtyard, stripping off his gloves before he turns to lift Summer down from the saddle. A handful of pages turn up quickly to take the horses, and Summer casts an appealing glance back to Mordred before Edward hurries her up the steps.

A freckle-faced urchin page stops at Mordred’s elbow and says, “Take your horse, milord? Drew’ll lead ye within, see to yer needs.”

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

xregicide-deactivated20140812:

      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.”  

“Sorry, I’m sorry, mae’n ddrwg gen i,” Summer stammers, turning from Mordred to Edward and back.

Edward eyes Mordred coolly, and makes an abortive motion to part them, before executing a short bow from the saddle. “Sir Edward, the Phoenix Knight of Dobria. Well met.” He’s clearly not impressed by Mordred, or his credentials.

“Summer. Dewch, yn awr. Byddwn yn mynd adref. Bydd eich chwaer yn synnu’n fawr o weld chi.” He nods his head to Mordred. “Thank you for guarding her thus far. I shall have her home.”

      “Mae croeso i chi,” the young knight tells him, bowing his head slightly. He could see the scrutiny in Edward’s eyes and on his face, and just as Edward was with him, Mordred was not impressed by him. “I’m afraid there is no need to send me away, I shall be staying,” he tells him. 

There’s a flicker in Edward’s dark gaze when Mordred replies in the old language of Dover. Summer swallows hard, glancing from one to the other, and her voice is still high as she says, “Oh don’t, please don’t. Please, just take me home, don’t.”

Her brother glances down at her shining hair and sighs. “Very well, sister. It would be ill-done to not at least resupply him before he must return to Camelot.” He jerks his horse’s head away from trying to nibble the bridle of Mordred’s, and sets off down the road.

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

xregicide-deactivated20140812:

      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.”  

Edward’s brows flicker, up and then down, clearly confused. “Summer, introduce me to your friend.” He lays an unfriendly emphasis on ‘friend’, and his eyes narrow at the way Summer puts her hand over Mordred’s and holds on.

“I knew,” she murmurs to Mordred, voice pitched higher with incipient tears. “Last night. I knew. From so far. Why did I know?”

       The knight ignored him, placing an arm around her carefully. “I can’t answer that, but you can’t worry about that either,” he tells her gently, “your sister needs you.” Mordred turns his attention to Edward, “Sir Mordred, knight of Camelot.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry, mae’n ddrwg gen i,” Summer stammers, turning from Mordred to Edward and back.

Edward eyes Mordred coolly, and makes an abortive motion to part them, before executing a short bow from the saddle. “Sir Edward, the Phoenix Knight of Dobria. Well met.” He’s clearly not impressed by Mordred, or his credentials.

“Summer. Dewch, yn awr. Byddwn yn mynd adref. Bydd eich chwaer yn synnu’n fawr o weld chi.” He nods his head to Mordred. “Thank you for guarding her thus far. I shall have her home.”

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

xregicide-deactivated20140812:

      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.”  

The siblings are oblivious for a few moments to the knight’s presence. Edward takes Summer by the shoulders, holding her firmly, away from him. “Winter — she’s fine, she’s fine! — but she — there was a trouble — ” He turns a bit red in the face.

“Edward, please just tell me.” Her voice cracks a bit.

“She lost the baby.”

“Wha—when?”

He grips her shoulders tighter. “Last night. Father didn’t want to send for you and have it be nothing. We thought it was nothing. She’s fine, Summer! She’s fine.”

In a quick movement, Summer frees herself from Edward’s grip, turning away. Her face is pale against the flaming backdrop of her hair, and she looks at Mordred as though her world has somehow come apart.

       A look of pain crossed his features at Summer’s expression and gently kicks his heels into the side of the horse, guiding it towards her, placing a hand gently on her shoulder but he said nothing. He had no experience in such matters and could offer nothing to make her pain go away.

Edward’s brows flicker, up and then down, clearly confused. “Summer, introduce me to your friend.” He lays an unfriendly emphasis on ‘friend’, and his eyes narrow at the way Summer puts her hand over Mordred’s and holds on.

“I knew,” she murmurs to Mordred, voice pitched higher with incipient tears. “Last night. I knew. From so far. Why did I know?”

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

xregicide-deactivated20140812:

      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.”  

“Yes!” she shouts back, bent over the saddlehorn. One curve, another, a thin branch she barely ducks — and there he is, tall and straight in the saddle, black hair glinting in the sunlight. He’s pulled up, obviously hearing her pounding approach, and she just barely manages to keep the two horses from crashing into one another.

“Summer?!”

“Edward!” He seizes her in a crushing hug, all but lifting her off the back of her horse.

        The knight slows his horse to a stop a few meters from the two of them, watching them for a moment with hesitation.

The siblings are oblivious for a few moments to the knight’s presence. Edward takes Summer by the shoulders, holding her firmly, away from him. “Winter — she’s fine, she’s fine! — but she — there was a trouble — ” He turns a bit red in the face.

“Edward, please just tell me.” Her voice cracks a bit.

“She lost the baby.”

“Wha—when?”

He grips her shoulders tighter. “Last night. Father didn’t want to send for you and have it be nothing. We thought it was nothing. She’s fine, Summer! She’s fine.”

In a quick movement, Summer frees herself from Edward’s grip, turning away. Her face is pale against the flaming backdrop of her hair, and she looks at Mordred as though her world has somehow come apart.