“Don’t be, this’ll be lots of fun for us, not everyday one goes exploring.”
They were almost back to Camelot when the strange knight began to rouse. He didn’t move much, but his head tossed where it was leaned back on her shoulder, and he mumbled feverish nonsense. Summer called up to Arthur, “We should hurry. He’s waking, and I don’t know what will happen.”
Arthur heard her words and nudged his foot into his horse’s side a bit, moving them faster so that they could reach Camelot quickly. Once within its walls, he dismounted his horse and turned to Summer. “Alright, now that we’re here, we need to go take care of him and bring him to Gaius.”
She nearly rolled her eyes at him. “I’m going to need your help here,” she pointed out. “Are we trying to keep this secretive, or let just anyone see? Because I don’t think even you can carry him to Gaius’ chambers.” Never mind the fact that the knight was definitely waking up now, and he was unlikely to respond well to being in a strange place and handled by strange folk.
“Don’t be, this’ll be lots of fun for us, not everyday one goes exploring.”
It wasn’t nearly the gracious concession she wanted, but she let it pass. “Yes, sire.” She gave the wounded knight one last pat on the chest, then rose and mounted her horse. “If you can lift him across the saddle, I can support him. We need to stop wasting time.”
Arthur didn’t say anything to her comment but easily pushed forward. He helped to lift the man onto her horse, climbing back to his own horse and began to get the horse to trot. They were going to have to go carefully, if they wanted to get back to Camelot safely.
Once Arthur was ahead of her, Summer let her reins fall to the mare’s neck, relying on her knees for control and her hands to balance the knight. She really didn’t want to be taking him back to Camelot; his words troubled her and she couldn’t shake the conviction that trouble rode inside that helm. But Arthur was her lord; she had to obey.
He could tell that something was still off about this knight and knew magic had to be the source of it. He didn’t know how to talk about it however. Magic was always looked at badly by his father and those practicing it killed. He knew he’d have to get him to Gaius and to keep things very quiet.
They were almost back to Camelot when the strange knight began to rouse. He didn’t move much, but his head tossed where it was leaned back on her shoulder, and he mumbled feverish nonsense. Summer called up to Arthur, “We should hurry. He’s waking, and I don’t know what will happen.”
Summer could hardly form words anymore. With every thrust of his fingers she moaned again, and fine tremors formed in her muscles. From the first sharp crest of her climax he was keeping her riding it, as a wave, and the pleasure was so overwhelming it was almost pain.
“Don’t be, this’ll be lots of fun for us, not everyday one goes exploring.”
It wasn’t nearly the gracious concession she wanted, but she let it pass. “Yes, sire.” She gave the wounded knight one last pat on the chest, then rose and mounted her horse. “If you can lift him across the saddle, I can support him. We need to stop wasting time.”
Arthur didn’t say anything to her comment but easily pushed forward. He helped to lift the man onto her horse, climbing back to his own horse and began to get the horse to trot. They were going to have to go carefully, if they wanted to get back to Camelot safely.
Once Arthur was ahead of her, Summer let her reins fall to the mare’s neck, relying on her knees for control and her hands to balance the knight. She really didn’t want to be taking him back to Camelot; his words troubled her and she couldn’t shake the conviction that trouble rode inside that helm. But Arthur was her lord; she had to obey.
She was hazily grateful when he pressed her into the chair, kneeling before her. Her fingers splayed across his scalp, flexing and gripping, before she leaned her head against the back of the chair and cried out, sharply.
She shuddered hard when he touched her. “By the gods, Peredur,” she rasped, Kentish accent thickening and voice breaking on a moan. She clung to him, knees going to water. She wasn’t sure what she wanted, but her body burned, and once again she kissed him greedily.
Heart pounding and body burning, Summer shoved herself off Percival’s lap, ignoring his shock. She stripped her skirts off, then swallowed and stepped back close to the knight. Taking his hands, she pulled them around her waist. “Don’t stop,” she breathed.
How was she even supposed to answer that? She had no idea what was normal. “I — I suppose so,” she managed. Maybe the better answer was — she dipped her head and caught at his mouth, trying to show instead of say how good she was with everything he was doing.
“Don’t be, this’ll be lots of fun for us, not everyday one goes exploring.”
“Perhaps, but what concerns me is that he wakes up while with you and spooks the horse. I can handle it well if something should happen.”
“I trained my mare myself,” Summer said. “She won’t spook at anything.” Neglecting to mention that someone with command of fire magic needs a calm horse, and that even without that she could keep the horse from causing trouble with her other magic. “I really think we should put him on my mare and I’ll ride with you.”
“This is an argument that isn’t worth continuing. I trust you on your judgement and you can have him, but the minute… if he wakes up or anything and tries any funny business, let me know so I can do something about it.”
It wasn’t nearly the gracious concession she wanted, but she let it pass. “Yes, sire.” She gave the wounded knight one last pat on the chest, then rose and mounted her horse. “If you can lift him across the saddle, I can support him. We need to stop wasting time.”
“Percival?” Summer whispers, when the silence and stillness have stretched out. “What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” She shifts back, curling a hand under his chin to tip his face up, eyes dark and frightened instead of shadowed with desire. “I don’t want you to stop.”
