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 keeps glancing unerringly south and east, toward Dover. It’s a second to affix her pack to the back of the saddle, then she swings up. “I’m ready.”

        With that he nods, pulling himself up into the saddle before he jams his knees into the side of his mount, taking off out of the stables, waiting for her to follow.

Summer is not slow to do so, either, with that feeling urging her on. They trot out of the town before moving to a gallop, though the horses can’t sustain that pace for long. All the same, though, the feeling of being in motion helps immensely; there’s no longer the sense of being helpless.

She frets, during the course of the day, at the feelings. It’s not entirely new, but it’s the first since she left home. Any other time, she had been nearby, and so of course it was obvious — her empathic sense picked up someone’s distress. But she’s much too far to be sensing her twin. She worries at her lip as she worries at the problem, until it’s bleeding as they dismount in the dark to set up camp for the night.

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, my lord,” she says obediently. That nagging feeling has grown stronger, and she moves through packing in a half-daze, straining her senses south and east. But there is nothing. Only the same feeling as before, of something wrong, of her twin in need.

She hurries to the stables, pack bouncing at her hip and dressed for hard riding. No pretty dresses, and a dagger at her waist, hair bound up firmly.

        All he had needed to get was food. Out of force of habit Mordred kept a satchel packed just in case he needed to leave on a whim. Mordred had been readying the horses when Summer arrived, attaching a satchel to the saddle before fiddling with the reins. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” She keeps glancing unerringly south and east, toward Dover. It’s a second to affix her pack to the back of the saddle, then she swings up. “I’m ready.”

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.”  

“Perhaps let me persuade him?” She sighs, scraping one hand back through her hair. “Na, ‘sdim ots. You’ve leave, and it’s early yet. If we go now, we’ll be there tomorrow noon.”

       Mordred tongues his cheek. “Go grabs your things and meet me at the stables in an hour.”

“Yes, my lord,” she says obediently. That nagging feeling has grown stronger, and she moves through packing in a half-daze, straining her senses south and east. But there is nothing. Only the same feeling as before, of something wrong, of her twin in need.

She hurries to the stables, pack bouncing at her hip and dressed for hard riding. No pretty dresses, and a dagger at her waist, hair bound up firmly.

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.”  

“I — don’t know.” She glances around. Instinctively, weirdly, she’s managed to move in the direction that Dover lies in, despite still being in Camelot. “It doesn’t matter. Mordred, you lied to him!”

        He sighed, pulling his hand from hers. “Summer, what else was I meant to do?”

“Perhaps let me persuade him?” She sighs, scraping one hand back through her hair. “Na, ‘sdim ots. You’ve leave, and it’s early yet. If we go now, we’ll be there tomorrow noon.”

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.”  

“You /lied/ to him,” she hisses, glancing round. She seizes his hand and tugs him down the corridor without paying much attention to where they’re going, only away.

        The young knight jumps when she grabs his hand and she leads him down the hall. “Summer, where are you taking me?”

“I — don’t know.” She glances around. Instinctively, weirdly, she’s managed to move in the direction that Dover lies in, despite still being in Camelot. “It doesn’t matter. Mordred, you lied to him!”

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.”  

Summer drops a quick curtsey and backs out the door, hurling herself round to lean against the wall with one hand pressed over her heart again. “Oh my gods, Mordred.”

        Mordred chuckles, leaning up against the wall, watching her for a moment. “Told you, darling.”

“You /lied/ to him,” she hisses, glancing round. She seizes his hand and tugs him down the corridor without paying much attention to where they’re going, only away.

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.”  

“I’ll expect you to send me a message if you aren’t back within a week, Mordred,” Arthur says, making up his mind. “My good wishes to your father, Summer, and safety on the journey. Go on.” He bends back to his papers, clearly dismissing them.

        He bows slightly, straightening up soon after. “Thank you my lord, of course, it will be done.”

Summer drops a quick curtsey and backs out the door, hurling herself round to lean against the wall with one hand pressed over her heart again. “Oh my gods, Mordred.”

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.”  

She manages to control her face at Mordred’s blatant lie, biting at her lips and giving the king her most appealing, helpless-girl look. “I-if Sir Mordred could escort me — it’s just Dover … “

Arthur’s eyes flick back and forth between the two, clearly pondering. “Just the one?” He lifts a hand, dismissing any insult on Mordred’s part. “Mordred is a fine knight, don’t get me wrong.”

She looks to Mordred for help, and back to the king. “I shouldn’t think — I’m not very important, I don’t need more than the one … ” Inspiration strikes. “Surely if there’s just the two of us, it will be safer, we will attract less attention.”

        He had to resist the urge to cock a brow, choosing to ignore Arthur’s comment. “Dover isn’t all that dangerous but there are a few dangers,” he tells him. “It would be quick, at a hard day’s ride, but just in case.”

“I’ll expect you to send me a message if you aren’t back within a week, Mordred,” Arthur says, making up his mind. “My good wishes to your father, Summer, and safety on the journey. Go on.” He bends back to his papers, clearly dismissing them.

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.”  

Summer swallows a squeak. The king’s blue eyes are daunting, and she really wants to take Mordred’s hand again. “I — I was hoping I could beg an escort of you, sire, back to my home. I’m — I’m needed there.”

       Arthur intertwines his fingers together in front of him, placing his quill down on the desk. “Her lord father is ill, sire,” Mordred tells him, “and her sister is exhausting herself looking after him, he might not make it,” he adds, throwing her a look. “She received word today and she didn’t want to bring it to your attention.”

She manages to control her face at Mordred’s blatant lie, biting at her lips and giving the king her most appealing, helpless-girl look. “I-if Sir Mordred could escort me — it’s just Dover … “

Arthur’s eyes flick back and forth between the two, clearly pondering. “Just the one?” He lifts a hand, dismissing any insult on Mordred’s part. “Mordred is a fine knight, don’t get me wrong.”

She looks to Mordred for help, and back to the king. “I shouldn’t think — I’m not very important, I don’t need more than the one … ” Inspiration strikes. “Surely if there’s just the two of us, it will be safer, we will attract less attention.”