“What /this/?” she laughed. “/This/ is a week of whatever you’d like from me. Let’s have a little direction here, Sir Knight.” Summer took one of his hands, interlinking her fingers with his. “Otherwise,” she murmured, “I’ll give the direction, and you’ll obey.”
Mordred cocked a brow, looking over her for a moment. “You give directions and I obey?” he asks, mulling the words over for a few moments before he answered. “No, I don’t like that idea all too well,” he tells her. “There is a tourney coming up and your favour would be most appreciated.”
Letting go his hand with a slight sigh, Summer pulled her braid over her shoulder and untangled a ribbon from the end. She smoothed it over her hand before offering it to him. “If you tie this about your arm, I’m certain you will win, and my luck will surely ride with you.” Softly and quickly she kissed his cheek.
Quite purposefully, she slipped a little closer, flirting a little. “So, what kind of wife shall I be? Make sure you’re fed? Polish your armour, sharpen your sword? Shall I stay home and keep your house, or shall I ornament your arm and give you my favour for tournaments?”
The knight chuckled, his cheeks reddening slightly. “You can be whatever wife you so choose to be, I am not fussed. I clean my own armour and expect no one to do it for me,” he tells her with a small smile. “But you may do as you wish, I’ve never been good at this I should forewarn you.”
“What /this/?” she laughed. “/This/ is a week of whatever you’d like from me. Let’s have a little direction here, Sir Knight.” Summer took one of his hands, interlinking her fingers with his. “Otherwise,” she murmured, “I’ll give the direction, and you’ll obey.”
“Most of the knights I know are so arrogant about it. As if being knighted makes them better than the rest of us.” She sighed a little. “I’m afraid I irredeemably offended the knights near father’s estate, which is why I’m here now. I’m supposed to make a good impression.”
With a little smile and a cocked eyebrow, Summer met Mordred’s eyes. “Have I made a good impression on you?”
Mordred chuckled. “So far so good, don’t worry,” he tells her with a smile. “I have known and met few knights whose status has gone to their heads, it is indeed an ugly thing and it is not what the job is about,” he says. “Those people are merely fools and feeble minded.”
Quite purposefully, she slipped a little closer, flirting a little. “So, what kind of wife shall I be? Make sure you’re fed? Polish your armour, sharpen your sword? Shall I stay home and keep your house, or shall I ornament your arm and give you my favour for tournaments?”
“That sounds a bit … are you sure you’re telling me the truth?” she teased. “According to my brother, well, step-brother, becoming a knight is hard work, you don’t just fall into it. He says I’m not allowed to try because of that.” Summer put her hand on Mordred’s knee, leaning into him a bit.
“Your step-brother is correct,” he tells her, “it is indeed hard work but most of it is a blur; it kind of just happened, I never intended for it to happen but now I’m here and I’m grateful for such a privilege.”
“Most of the knights I know are so arrogant about it. As if being knighted makes them better than the rest of us.” She sighed a little. “I’m afraid I irredeemably offended the knights near father’s estate, which is why I’m here now. I’m supposed to make a good impression.”
With a little smile and a cocked eyebrow, Summer met Mordred’s eyes. “Have I made a good impression on you?”
“I was born south of here, far south where the cliffs rise white out of the sea. I have a sister, a twin by birth but not by looks. She’s married to a lord who shares our country. My father sent me here to gain some polish and perhaps find a husband myself, though I think we’ve all given up hope for that. Why did you not wish to become a knight?”
Mordred gives her a smile. “It sounds like you’ve had a very interesting life,” he tells her, leaning back in his chair. “Well, I never really thought about it,” he says honestly. “I was a person who-” he trails off, “traded in fine goods,” he says after awhile, but by fine goods he meant people. Before he had become a knight he’d been working with bandits, gathering slaves and travelling from kingdom to kingdom. “It just happened.”
“That sounds a bit … are you sure you’re telling me the truth?” she teased. “According to my brother, well, step-brother, becoming a knight is hard work, you don’t just fall into it. He says I’m not allowed to try because of that.” Summer put her hand on Mordred’s knee, leaning into him a bit.
“Were you born here? Do you have any family? Why did you choose to become a knight? How long have you been a knight?” Summer rattles off a few questions, laughing a little, then blushes slightly and looks down. “I’m sorry. I love to learn about people. I’ll — you can ask me anything, now.”
“I was born in the White Mountains, my family are all dead,” he tells her solemnly. “I had no intentions of becoming a knight; it just happened but I’ve been one for three months. Alright, your turn.”
“I was born south of here, far south where the cliffs rise white out of the sea. I have a sister, a twin by birth but not by looks. She’s married to a lord who shares our country. My father sent me here to gain some polish and perhaps find a husband myself, though I think we’ve all given up hope for that. Why did you not wish to become a knight?”
“I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t want to,” Summer says softly. She sits down as told, watching his face with a slightly sad expression on hers. “I very much want to, Mordred. Will you — will you tell me about yourself? I only know your name.”
That was probably the hardest question she had chosen to ask; how could he tells someone about himself when he barely knew? “Well,” he begins, lacing his fingers together in front of him. “I’m a knight, just in case you didn’t know,” he adds with a small smile. “But other than that there is really nothing.”
“Were you born here? Do you have any family? Why did you choose to become a knight? How long have you been a knight?” Summer rattles off a few questions, laughing a little, then blushes slightly and looks down. “I’m sorry. I love to learn about people. I’ll — you can ask me anything, now.”
She sighs, looking down at the ring. “So I guess you don’t want this, since you don’t know me, and you’re being very stiff about it, too.”
A frown crosses his features. “I never said I didn’t,” he tells her simply, crossing one leg over the other. He glances away. “I’m not used to compliments, that is all, please, take a seat, I’m sure if we got to know each other more-” he trails off, “unless you don’t want to.”
“I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t want to,” Summer says softly. She sits down as told, watching his face with a slightly sad expression on hers. “I very much want to, Mordred. Will you — will you tell me about yourself? I only know your name.”
