sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

Mordred’s grip is strong, but he seems distracted. Summer lifts an eyebrow, glancing at Elena, as the dark-haired man answers the phone, and instantly she senses a change in his attitude — whomever is on the other end of the line, it’s someone important to him.

Very important.

She wants to inquire, but he doesn’t really wait, just pops right back out the door. She breathes a little laugh through her nose and offers Elena a drink, instead. Despite his clear sincerity, she doesn’t expect Mordred’s return at all, and something inside slumps a little at that. It’s a surprise when he comes back, another man with him, equally tall and dark, but slim and more nervous-seeming.

“This is your Merlin, is it?” she asks, smiling.

         ’My Merlin,’ Mordred thought, trying not to flash him a smirk for there were some people who weren’t comfortable with the entire thing. “Yes, this is Merlin, the man who could get lost even if you led him somewhere yourself,” Mordred says with a laugh as Merlin went over to hug Elena. He could almost hear Merlin’s smile and see the eye roll he would have given him.

         The soldier turned to Summer. “So whom else is going to be showing their face?” he questions, glancing over at Merlin as he took in his costume, the dinosaur onsie he had brought a few weeks ago. 

That quick flash, of pride and delight and sheer joy, told Summer she was more on the mark than she’d realised. Useful to know, particularly since she was coming to realise that this floor of the complex was basically composed of cute guys with a few pretty girls for seasoning. It was a mild shame that two of them seemed to already be paired off, but Mordred was so pleased she couldn’t regret it for long.

“Damned if I know,” she answers. “I’ve barely met any of you folk yet. That was the whole point of this, really. I’ve only really spoken to the blond fellow a few doors down, and I never did catch his name.” She makes a face. “The movers shifted my furniture up, then dumped my boxes on the sidewalk and abandoned me. I had to recruit his help to get it all inside.”

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

“Hello!” Doc takes the momentary distraction of the door opening to make a giant leap out of her arms, tearing off to the kitchen. “Whoops, sorry, that was Doc, don’t mind her. Come in! I’m Summer, I live here now.” Summer knows she’s babbling, but sheer nerves have control over her voice.

She looks the pair over quickly, impressed by the uniform — is it real? It reminds her of her dad, when he would simply put on his hard hat and claim it was a costume for Hallowe’en. She offers a hand to each.

        The soldier looks down at her hand before taking it, why? He couldn’t give an answer, he was like that with everyone nowadays. “Mordred,” he tells her, giving her a small smile as he follows Elena in. It was a lovely apartment, however all the apartments in the complex were the same so to him it made really no difference. 

        He had just finished casting his gaze around when his phone rang and he answered it, a confused look plastered on his face before he laughed. “Wait you’re lost?” Mordred asks, a look of pure amusement on his face, “where are you?” He asks again and this earns him a snap from the man on the other end of the phone. He shook his head, hanging up. “Merlin got lost,” he tells her, “I’ll go get him. Be back soon.” As he had promised Mordred returned around twenty minutes later, Merlin in tow.

Mordred’s grip is strong, but he seems distracted. Summer lifts an eyebrow, glancing at Elena, as the dark-haired man answers the phone, and instantly she senses a change in his attitude — whomever is on the other end of the line, it’s someone important to him.

Very important.

She wants to inquire, but he doesn’t really wait, just pops right back out the door. She breathes a little laugh through her nose and offers Elena a drink, instead. Despite his clear sincerity, she doesn’t expect Mordred’s return at all, and something inside slumps a little at that. It’s a surprise when he comes back, another man with him, equally tall and dark, but slim and more nervous-seeming.

“This is your Merlin, is it?” she asks, smiling.

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

Summer put her hands on her hips and surveyed the room. False spiderwebbing in all the corners, little dishes of snacks and nibbles on every table, orange, purple and white fairy lights strung about in place of the lamps, faintly spooky or hallowe’en music cued up on the computer … yes, it looked like everything was ready.

She put a hand to her chest, willing her heartbeat to slow down. Even if no one came, she had done good unpacking and cleaning and arranging everything, so it wasn’t a total waste. Doc sat by the door, pale-tipped tail wrapped around her feet, looking for all the world like she was ready to greet any guests instead of go darting off the moment some stranger came in.

Summer smiled and tightened the laces on her leather coat once more. Scooping up the little calico, she unlocked the door and opened it just an inviting touch.

        He’d sworn to Elena that he’d be working on Halloween, but unfortunately work had decided they didn’t need him and she had dragged him along, irritated at her for taking away his chance of a proper night’s sleep. “Can you let go of my arm?” Mordred asks, attempting to free himself from her grip but he was too tired to put more effort into it. “No, you’re going, that’s it,” she tells him, bringing him to a halt outside the door and he pulled his arm free, brushing the lint off his uniform.  

                                                   She hadn’t even given him time to change.  

     When the door was pulled back Mordred gave a small smile, his eyes wandering down the hall to the stairs, perhaps, if he tried he could get back to their apartment and lock Elena out. “Hi,” Elena says with a smile, and it’s then he realizes whatever hope he had diminished.

“Hello!” Doc takes the momentary distraction of the door opening to make a giant leap out of her arms, tearing off to the kitchen. “Whoops, sorry, that was Doc, don’t mind her. Come in! I’m Summer, I live here now.” Summer knows she’s babbling, but sheer nerves have control over her voice.

She looks the pair over quickly, impressed by the uniform — is it real? It reminds her of her dad, when he would simply put on his hard hat and claim it was a costume for Hallowe’en. She offers a hand to each.