Summer shook her head at him. “A quiet, lonely, pretty place to have a picnic. You know this kingdom better than I do. Lead, Mordred, lead.”
Mordred gently pressed his knees into the side of the mare, taking off, slowing down only to wait for her to catch up. “There is a place just over the next ridge line,” he tells her after awhile.
It’s a bit of a race, through the fields surrounding Camelot proper, her hair flying and laughter following them. Summer slowed when he did, pulling her horse to a walk. “I thought for a moment there you meant to lead me on a chase,” she called, “in retaliation for this morning.” They topped the ridge, and she could immediately see the place he meant — sheltered by a tumble of rocks to one side, with a little stream burbling round one edge and sunlight falling through the leaves.
“Ah, well, the folk of Dover are not born ahorse like some other peoples I could name. You would be very upset if I were thrown.” Sensibly, she dismounted and picked her way down the hillside, tethering the horse to a tree with grass and undergrowth nearby. As she untied the rug, she said over her shoulder, “Is there aught I can do better than you, my lord?” and stuck out her tongue at him.
”I was not born atop a horse,” he tells her in a matter-of-fact-way, gracefully sliding from the saddle, the soles of his shoes crunching against the leaves. “I was born in the snow and then was taught how to ride a horse,” he adds. “Put your tongue back in your mouth,” he scolds, undoing the clasps that held the basket to the horse.
Summer had actually forgotten that her tongue was sticking out, watching him dismount. She wanted nothing so much, in that moment, as to knock him down and kiss him until he rolled them over and took her right there on the forest floor. She stuck it out further, then taunted, “Make me.”
Her mouth twitched at the word ‘naked’, concealing a smile. “I do try.” Tucking her skirts up, she mounted neatly, gathering the reins into her hands. “Will you lead, cariad?”
Mordred rolled his eyes. “Do you have anything in mind?”
Summer shook her head at him. “A quiet, lonely, pretty place to have a picnic. You know this kingdom better than I do. Lead, Mordred, lead.”
“But you’re so concerned that you bring your sword?” she laughed. “I’ve left word. Someone should know, if you’re needed. It’s sure I won’t be.” Summer picked up the rug and cushions, carrying them inside to her mare and strapping them on.
”I needed something so I wouldn’t feel so naked,” he tells her, following her inside and securing everything to one of the horses, checking all the buckles before he swung himself up onto the mare. “You’re so thoughtful.”
Her mouth twitched at the word ‘naked’, concealing a smile. “I do try.” Tucking her skirts up, she mounted neatly, gathering the reins into her hands. “Will you lead, cariad?”
Summer waited impatiently at the stables, constantly glancing up at the sky to see where the sun was. A basket, a rug, and a few cushions waited with her, at her feet.
After training he had headed to his chambers, trading his armour and chainmail for a simple cotton shirt, keeping his sword before he headed down to the stables. “Summer?”
“Mordred!” She spun around, grinning. Quickly she appraised him before nodding in approval. “I asked the boys to saddle our horses for us. Does anyone know where we’re going?”
Summer waited impatiently at the stables, constantly glancing up at the sky to see where the sun was. A basket, a rug, and a few cushions waited with her, at her feet.
[naked in bed, sweet ‘verse] As quietly as she can, Summer takes off her dress. The bed isn’t really big enough for two, but that’s not the point, either. She has to bite her lips to keep from giggling, and slips in beside him, twining one arm about his middle and cuddling close.
Mordred shifts, turning around and pulling him closer to her, resting his head against her shoulders.
“Hey,” she murmurs, smiling at him. “You temptation, you.”