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 turns her attention inward for a quick moment. “Winter is asleep, and Mihangel is with her anyway. I would not intrude on them.”
”Then of course you may come in,” he says, ushering her in with a wave of his hand, “take a seat.”
She laughs and pulls him inside, shutting the door and leaning against it. She doesn’t want to think about Edward, or what kind of disaster the evening is likely to be, so instead she teases, “Now I think you are my prisoner, Sir Knight, at least until the nightmeal. How will you win your freedom?”
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.”
“Well, not /only/,” Summer murmurs, laughing softly. She pushes the door open and gestures him inside. “Will you be able to pass the time before dinner, or shall I stay and amuse you?”
”I‘m sure I can find something,” he tells her, “unless you want to stay, your sister needs you.”
Summer turns her attention inward for a quick moment. “Winter is asleep, and Mihangel is with her anyway. I would not intrude on them.”
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.”
Tugging him along through halls of pale stone, she explains, “Our father, our birth father, who held this castle, he died when we were young.” Almost unconsciously she slips into a dualist mode of speech, herself and her twin as one unit. “We can’t inherit Dobria. Women can’t inherit. So Mother remarried, to a widowed knight. Edward is his son from that previous marriage.” Summer sighs. “It’s all a bit complicated, I guess.”
She leads him to an upper floor, and pauses in front of the first door there. “These are the rooms for highborn guests, knights and the like.”
Mordred nods, listening intently as Summer explains the situation to him. “It does sound a tad bit complicated,” he admits. “I believe women not being able to inherit is a silly idea,” he adds after a few moments before he turns his attention to the door. “Good thing I’m only a knight and not highborn.”
“Well, not /only/,” Summer murmurs, laughing softly. She pushes the door open and gestures him inside. “Will you be able to pass the time before dinner, or shall I stay and amuse you?”
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 leans back to look into his face. “You do know that he’s only my brother by marriage, right?” Not that the law cares; by blood or by marriage Edward still has quite a lot of power over her. She presses her lips together and takes Mordred’s hand. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
“No, I didn’t, he struts around like he is your biological brother and makes laws like he is as such.” Mordred smiles, “yes, do show me, please.”
Tugging him along through halls of pale stone, she explains, “Our father, our birth father, who held this castle, he died when we were young.” Almost unconsciously she slips into a dualist mode of speech, herself and her twin as one unit. “We can’t inherit Dobria. Women can’t inherit. So Mother remarried, to a widowed knight. Edward is his son from that previous marriage.” Summer sighs. “It’s all a bit complicated, I guess.”
She leads him to an upper floor, and pauses in front of the first door there. “These are the rooms for highborn guests, knights and the like.”
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.
“Don’t leave me, anwyl, cariad,” Summer whispers shakily. She lays Mordred out in the little thicket, setting the fingers of one hand to the wound and cauterizing it. Her hands tremble as she lifts away his breastplate, pushes the chainmail aside. “If you leave me, I will go myself barefoot and unarmed to the very gates of Annwn and bring you back, do you hear, so do you stay now, with me.”
HIs skin is terribly cold now, breathing shallow and heartbeat so faint. Recklessly she warms the air, and sets fingers to the wound again. There’s something inimical there, something that sucks away his spirit from between her clinging fingers, and she sets herself against it. The magic that has burnt in her blood since she saw him fall surges, sliding in golden strands and bright threads through and around.
Crying, Summer bends over him, her hair falling to shield their faces, and kisses him.
No one can survive a blow from a blade forged in a dragon’s breath.
No king. No queen. No knight. No magic holder.
No one. He wondered if Summer knew that, he wondered if she would understand why he couldn’t come back, why he couldn’t find the strength to breathe or open his eyes. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to, it because fate wouldn’t allow him to. She had been right, Morgana had used him, just as Arthur had, just as everyone had and he paid the price for his naivete.
He’s still slipping through her fingers, though. Each heartbeat comes after a longer period of time, and the magic is ebbing with it. She’s closed the wound, burned away everything and anything else, but she can’t burn away the touch of Excalibur.
Kissing him one more time, Summer lays her head down on his unmoving body and just cries, for a long, long time.
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 gives herself up to his kiss, desperately holding on. When they finally break apart, she pulls herself up. “Did anyone show you your rooms? Mother prefers that men don’t go armoured to dinner, and my siblings aren’t my only family.” It’s a feeble attempt to change the subject.
“No, they didn’t,” he tells her, letting go of her slightly, “your brother was far too busy interrogating me to do anything of the sort.”
She leans back to look into his face. “You do know that he’s only my brother by marriage, right?” Not that the law cares; by blood or by marriage Edward still has quite a lot of power over her. She presses her lips together and takes Mordred’s hand. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
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 wraps her hands around his wrists, clinging. “I’m just a bargaining chip to him, a thing he can use to buy what he wants. I don’t care what he says. Don’t leave me here.”
Without so much as another syllable Mordred wraps his arms around her, bringing her lips to his, “I won’t, I promise.”
Summer gives herself up to his kiss, desperately holding on. When they finally break apart, she pulls herself up. “Did anyone show you your rooms? Mother prefers that men don’t go armoured to dinner, and my siblings aren’t my only family.” It’s a feeble attempt to change the subject.
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.”
“They don’t want me,” she whispers. “They just want an obedient girl doll they can dress up and manipulate and control, and that isn’t me. Sometimes I think I never knew who I really was until I met you. And now you don’t want me either.”
Mordred shook his head, walking towards her and cupping her face between his hands. “No, Summer, I never said that, only the gods know how much I love you,” he whispers, “and stupidly I told Edward too.”
She wraps her hands around his wrists, clinging. “I’m just a bargaining chip to him, a thing he can use to buy what he wants. I don’t care what he says. Don’t leave me here.”
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.”
With a slight struggle, Winter rises to her feet. “I am tired,” she announces. “No, I can very well make my own way to bed, I shall leave you two /alone/ here.”
Her twin stares after the dark-haired departing form for a second, then seems to shrink in on herself. “Do you wish me to stay here?” she asks in a small voice. “Whatever Edward may think, you are a fine and worthy knight.” More words tumble out. “He’s no right to send you away, not like this. I need you here with me.” Her voice goes even smaller as she asks again, “Do you wish me to stay here?”
”Of course I don’t wish for you to stay here,” he tells her, pulling himself up from the seat. “I want you with me, but there is nothing I can do if your family wish it.”
“They don’t want me,” she whispers. “They just want an obedient girl doll they can dress up and manipulate and control, and that isn’t me. Sometimes I think I never knew who I really was until I met you. And now you don’t want me either.”
