battydruidboy:

iamthefirechild:

“I dreamed it. I dreamed it again,” she whispered. “All alone, in the dark — you don’t want me to go with you, but if I don’t face it … “

    _{Mordred nodded lightly, “It’s alright, I understand,” he answered; his voice soft. “I’ll see if I can convince the King to allow you to ride with us,” he reasoned, after all, that was all he could think to do.
         He’d already convinced Arthur to go on a trip to find these bandits, what harm could this attempt do?}

Summer shakes against him for a long minute, fighting down the fear she can’t control. It’s an effort of sheer will to step away, sinking low in a curtsey. “My deepest apologies, Sir Knight. I don’t know what came over me. I’ll just — I’ll just take a walk, to clear my head.”

destinedtokill:

iamthefirechild:

She whirled around, hair flying in a wide arc and eyes huge, and then all but flung herself at him. In the aftermath of the nightmare, her bravado was gone, swarmed under by fear. She curled against his chest, trembling. “You /will/ protect me, won’t you?”

    _{This sudden contact surprised him, and he almost stumbled backwards. He raised an eyebrow, but remained with his hands hung at his sides. “Of course I will,” he answered, confused by the question. He had said so after all. “Why, do you think I wouldn’t?”}

“I dreamed it. I dreamed it again,” she whispered. “All alone, in the dark — you don’t want me to go with you, but if I don’t face it … “

destinedtokill:

iamthefirechild:

She had pushed the door open, stepped in, and turned back to him once again. “That wasn’t actually a request. Sir Mordred. If you do not send for me, I will go alone.” Her eyes flashed, and all trace of lightheartedness was gone from her face.

      _{Mordred raised an eyebrow; well, that would be one way of almost assuring a place in the party. She seemed pretty determined to get back at the bandits.}

         ”I will make sure to send for you, my lady,” Mordred corrected himself.

She nodded, sharply, and went back into the room, letting the door close. She leaned back against it for a brief moment before all but crawling into the bed. The knowledge that she was completely safe, that she had made it to Camelot and survived, slowly sank in, and she curled up into a ball and just shook with relief for a long time.

Sleep overtook her at some point, and in her dream she relived the attack. Half a dozen men, ill-kempt but well-armed, bursting out of the underbrush and surrounding her. Her horse rearing, frightened, as someone waved a torch under its nose. Unable to draw her daggers, with hands full of reins, and unable to fix her mind on more than one attacker at a time. One, only one, going up in flames, and then someone grabbing her leg and dragging, and the fire spun out of control, sparks spitting everywhere but to no avail.

Summer woke up screaming.

destinedtokill:

iamthefirechild:

She mused, “Why do I have this feeling you wouldn’t actually listen, only appear to?” Setting a hand to the door, she turned to Mordred. “I would go with you when you track down the bandits. Will you send for me when you leave?”

   _{”I‘m not sure; I always listen,” Mordred answered, face contorting in a small display of confusion. Although he wouldn’t always follow an instruction given to him if it went against everything he stood for or his morals took him other places. He came to a stop just outside of the doorway, and he paused before answering.}

       ”I will see what I can do.”

She had pushed the door open, stepped in, and turned back to him once again. “That wasn’t actually a request. Sir Mordred. If you do not send for me, I will go alone.” Her eyes flashed, and all trace of lightheartedness was gone from her face.

destinedtokill:

iamthefirechild:

“I don’t need a protector,” Summer protested. She trailed along after him, reaching out to the flames of the torches and candles as they passed. “I am capable of protecting myself.”

    _{“I didn’t say you were unable of doing so,” Mordred answered, almost a little too quickly. And he gave a small shrug, “If you would like me to leave you alone, you only have to ask,” he informed her, offering a small smile.}

She mused, “Why do I have this feeling you wouldn’t actually listen, only appear to?” Setting a hand to the door, she turned to Mordred. “I would go with you when you track down the bandits. Will you send for me when you leave?”

destinedtokill:

iamthefirechild:

“You,” Summer said solemnly, “are amazing. My debt to you increases.” She released a long, slow breath, then smiled mischievously. “Soon I shall have to become your servant just to have a hope of repaying you.”

  _{“Oh, you need not, I did nothing. It is the King you should be thanking for his generosity,” Mordred answered, before gesturing for her to go down the corridor.} 

    “I will take you to your room, I’ll let you take the one a few doors down from mine in case you need anything,” he offered.

“His Majesty did not escort me out of the forest, nor plead my case with eloquence,” she said tartly. “Learn to accept gratitude, Sir Knight, it will stand you in good stead. I will gladly accept a room near to yours, since it seems you’ve appointed yourself my protector.”

destinedtokill:

iamthefirechild:

Forcing herself to draw a deep breath, she began to pace, mind whirling with ‘what ifs’. The King of Camelot was a legend, indeed, already, but she knew little of him personally and had little reason to trust him. What gain would there be to him to help her, a noble’s daughter from out-kingdom? She formed mad plans of begging a sword from Sir Mordred, of simply waging a weeks-long campaign against the bandits herself armed with nothing more than her magic, but they all fell apart against reality — she had nothing now.

    _{The conversation lasted a small while, most of the time spent with Mordred trying to come up with different excuses and reasons as to why Summer should receive some help. Eventually though, he returned to the hall to deliver the news, a small smile upon his face.
 
     He looked over at the girl, before speaking, “He says he’s going to send out a party to track down the bandit camp,” he stated, “and that for the night you can take one of the spare rooms in the castle.”}

“You,” Summer said solemnly, “are amazing. My debt to you increases.” She released a long, slow breath, then smiled mischievously. “Soon I shall have to become your servant just to have a hope of repaying you.”

destinedtokill:

iamthefirechild:

Summer’s smile bent a little. “Go, speak for me, before I say something I’ll regret.”

    _{Mordred nodded lightly, before retracting his hand and entering the room to speak with Arthur. Hopefully he would be lenient, otherwise Summer might have difficulty getting back to her people.}

Forcing herself to draw a deep breath, she began to pace, mind whirling with ‘what ifs’. The King of Camelot was a legend, indeed, already, but she knew little of him personally and had little reason to trust him. What gain would there be to him to help her, a noble’s daughter from out-kingdom? She formed mad plans of begging a sword from Sir Mordred, of simply waging a weeks-long campaign against the bandits herself armed with nothing more than her magic, but they all fell apart against reality — she had nothing now.

destinedtokill:

iamthefirechild:

She couldn’t help but smile back. “It’s not /your/ sincerity I doubt. I’m unused to being at other people’s mercy. Particularly that of kings.”

     _{”He is just, I’m sure he would be honoured to help,” Mordred answered. Okay, he wasn’t entirely sure, considering the troubles going on at the current moment in time, but they did have an entire army at their disposal. Surely a few men would not go amiss.} 

Summer’s smile bent a little. “Go, speak for me, before I say something I’ll regret.”

destinedtokill:

iamthefirechild:

Nervousness rose in her throat, twisted her hands together, but she nodded, trying to hide her sudden fear. “Of course, Sir Knight.”

   _{Mordred rose an eyebrow, he could see her sudden change in demeanour. So to comfort her, he put a hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes when he spoke, “There’s nothing to worry about, I assure you. I can be quite convincing,” he stated, a small grin appearing on his features.} 

She couldn’t help but smile back. “It’s not /your/ sincerity I doubt. I’m unused to being at other people’s mercy. Particularly that of kings.”