Tag Archives: v: arthurian summer; bandits

“You’re so warm, don’t move.”

magicisinmyblood-deactivated201:

    A smile began to grace Mordred’s features, as he watched the young woman with surprise. “Yes?”, did he ask, as his side was pressed at Summer’s, “Are you very cold?”

The winter had been coming with all its might and a thick blanket of snow was lying over the landscape. They were cowering behind a bush, as there were people strolling through the winterly forest, in search of the fled prisoner and one of Gavin’s best men.

  “They are already departing… I will find a shelter for us. Make a fire.” Until then was he putting his overcoat around them both before Summer was freezing to death, though she was already wearing one of his other coats.

She cuddled close in to his side, hands buried between their bodies. Glancing upward at his face, she thought for a second, then turned her gaze to some branches poking up out of the snow, cupped in a little hollow. It took very little to melt the snow from them and set them ablaze. A little more effort controlled the fire, keeping it small so they would stay hidden.

magicisinmyblood:

iamthefirechild:

“You can have a fun time trying,” she hissed back at the one holding her — the man the others had seemed to defer to a little bit. Well, some sort of deference, anyway. There was a weird edge to it, of unwillingness. The words were sheer bravado — spinning her magic out right now was out of the question. There were too many for either skill to take on, and it would be entirely too obvious to nudge the leader in her favour — not to mention she still wasn’t sure which man /was/ the leader.

“Do you propose to protect me?” she added, then, ceasing to struggle.

The young woman owned a sharp tongue, that much was obvious – quickly this could become a hindrance for her, as these men with which she tried to mess were not known for their patience with defiant ladies. Was she indeed this courageous or was this just her way to overcome fear?

“Just shut up,” was Mordred’s snarled answer and his grip around her arms got even somewhat more emphatic. With a brief roll of his eyes he whispered coolly, “I could think about it, even though I am not sure if you’re worth it…”

His companions appeared as if they wanted to make their way back to the camp now and with a self-satisfied grin Cedric was stepping up to Mordred and the trapped girl – a huge hand took her chin between his fingers, eying her eagerly. “Nice… her face is too lovely to waste it, although we never make prisoners usually… perhaps I could make you to my wife. Yeah… I like that idea.” A raw laugh was raising in Cedric’s throat and his eyes were glistening, “Let’s go. And chain her. Can’t let my future wife escape.”

The son of the leader was chuckling again and stomping ahead.

Summer blanched at Cedric’s words. All this time, and the man who thinks she’s lovely is a rough brigand with a mind to force her. She swore under her breath, but at least they weren’t going to kill her.

She gave up struggle entirely, cooperating with the manacles, though with some pride. She wasn’t going to cower before these men. “May I at least know the names of my future kin?” she said, clearly, looking to Cedric and then back to Mordred, as they herded her along.

magicisinmyblood:

iamthefirechild:

‘Ah, hell.’ She kicked the horse, and it chose that moment to rear, dumping her off onto the ground. She hit her head and lay for a moment, stunned, and the dress the giant still held unwound from around the heavy roll of silver.

She lunged for it. Maybe she could still escape on foot.

Several things appeared to happen at the same time, as the girl made a weak attempt to flee with the horse, got shaken off by the perturbed animal and in the folds of the dress on Cedric’s arms gold came to light.

Mordred saw the movement of the young woman out of the corners of his eyes and quickly he jumped forward, grabbing her by the upper arm, pulling her backward. “Forget it, girl,” he declared coolly, fingers pressing into her skin, holding her tightly.

“Don’t be so stupid… they are going to kill you,” he whispered sharply into her ear, “And I bet this is not what you want…”

The other men yelled with delight, crowding around Cedric who held the gold high into the air, a fat grin gracing his quite handsome face.

“You can have a fun time trying,” she hissed back at the one holding her — the man the others had seemed to defer to a little bit. Well, some sort of deference, anyway. There was a weird edge to it, of unwillingness. The words were sheer bravado — spinning her magic out right now was out of the question. There were too many for either skill to take on, and it would be entirely too obvious to nudge the leader in her favour — not to mention she still wasn’t sure which man /was/ the leader.

“Do you propose to protect me?” she added, then, ceasing to struggle.

magicisinmyblood:

iamthefirechild:

“Why don’t I believe you?” Summer murmured, ignoring the knife. There was something about the way they moved about this blue-eyed, dark-haired boy, seemed to be focused on him. Was he the leader? Tightening her grip on the reins with one hand, she reached up to lift out the bone medallion from around her neck.

“I doubt this will be worth much to you.” She tried not to glance down, toward her saddlebag, where a roll of silver lay buried among her dresses. If she was to make a life in Camelot outside the king’s court, she could not afford to give that up.

“Cedric, no. Save your strength…” Mordred hissed at the other man, which was over-towering him by height. He had not intended to sound so commanding, but could not help it – it brought him a glaring look of Cedric, though the man stopped, apparently annoyed. “It’s not necessary to believe me, as you have no choice either way,” Mordred told, turning back to the girl sitting on the horse.

A smirk was playing around the corners of his mouth as he stretched out his hand and took the medallion, “Thanks, my lady.” It was a beautiful item, old… probably a heirloom.

“And what’s in the bag?” Cedric asked and stepped up to it, ripping it open and rummaging with his huge hand in it. Garments came to light, falling carelessly and rumpled to the ground.

‘Ah, hell.’ She kicked the horse, and it chose that moment to rear, dumping her off onto the ground. She hit her head and lay for a moment, stunned, and the dress the giant still held unwound from around the heavy roll of silver.

She lunged for it. Maybe she could still escape on foot.

magicisinmyblood:

iamthefirechild:

Summer Rainault shaded her eyes, glancing up at the sun. She was, she judged, about halfway between home and Camelot. In the distance, she could see a ruined castle’s towers rising. The heat was oppressive, and she nudged her mare to greater speed, hoping to at least generate a cooling breeze.

Absorbed in her thoughts, she didn’t pay much attention to the sounds around her until the several roughly dressed men had surrounded her. “Well hey, what’s this?” one of them growled, brandishing a knife at her. “Pretty girl, all alone, not a good thing.” Another one chuckled, a cruel sound.

“All your money, and quickly,” the one with the knife said, beckoning.

Summer twisted her mouth sideways. “Do I look to have money on me, you fool?”

Staying a bit offside, Mordred’s look stroke over the young woman which had been captured by the group of bandits to whom the former druid belonged. He remembered the day when he was still a little boy, lost and alone and the leader of the gang had decided to take him with them, sensing that there was something special about Mordred that could be of use for them – and eventually they had found out that this little boy was indeed skilled, one of the last druids after the great slaughter. What fortune.

Since then many years had passed by and somehow it was as if he had always belonged to these cruel men, which were at least something similar like a family to him… Gavin had always treated him like a son, but Mordred wasn’t stupid, he knew it was mostly for selfish reasons.

Now here they were, threatening an innocent girl and though he was not particularly touched by it he stepped forward. The other men glanced at him, knowing that, although he was the youngest of them, Gavin valued his opinion almost more than any other… they were envious of his status in the group and whenever they could – specially when Gavin wasn’t present – they tried to let him sense that they didn’t like him that much, with exceptions of course. But they wouldn’t make it too obvious.

Mordred placed himself in front of the girl, staring down to her, mimic almost untouched. “It would be wise not to tell lies. We won’t hurt you unless you are not clever enough to obey,” he said coolly.

“Maybe my knife will loosen her tongue.” Cedric, Gavin’s son, was making a threatening move towards the woman.

“Why don’t I believe you?” Summer murmured, ignoring the knife. There was something about the way they moved about this blue-eyed, dark-haired boy, seemed to be focused on him. Was he the leader? Tightening her grip on the reins with one hand, she reached up to lift out the bone medallion from around her neck.

“I doubt this will be worth much to you.” She tried not to glance down, toward her saddlebag, where a roll of silver lay buried among her dresses. If she was to make a life in Camelot outside the king’s court, she could not afford to give that up.