“If those are the only things you want for yourself, even as a knight, your life is more sad than you led me to believe, and I wish it could be better. I wish I could make it better.” Summer bit at her lip, face full of sadness.
Mordred shook his head, smiling at her. “It is fine,” he told her, “it’s all in the past.” He said, “Well, at least I hope. Do not concern yourself with such a thing.”
She shook her head hard, loose red strands whipping about. “No, no, don’t tell me that! It’s important enough for you to say, like that, when I ask what you want … no. I will concern myself. You are,” she stumbled, “you are my husband for this week and your hurts are my hurts. I wish for you to wish for somehing more than a place to sleep and a full belly.”
The simplicity of his desire, and the emotion coupled with it, took her breath away. One hand hovered over his cheek, fingertips just barely brushing the skin. “Oh, Mordred … ” Anguish for him laced her voice.
Mordred gave her a small smile, glancing down at his lap again. “You make it sound like it’s the worst thing I could ever want,” he says, looking back up at her, nudging against the palm of her hand.
“If those are the only things you want for yourself, even as a knight, your life is more sad than you led me to believe, and I wish it could be better. I wish I could make it better.” Summer bit at her lip, face full of sadness.
“I was born south of here, far south where the cliffs rise white out of the sea. I have a sister, a twin by birth but not by looks. She’s married to a lord who shares our country. My father sent me here to gain some polish and perhaps find a husband myself, though I think we’ve all given up hope for that. Why did you not wish to become a knight?”
Mordred gives her a smile. “It sounds like you’ve had a very interesting life,” he tells her, leaning back in his chair. “Well, I never really thought about it,” he says honestly. “I was a person who-” he trails off, “traded in fine goods,” he says after awhile, but by fine goods he meant people. Before he had become a knight he’d been working with bandits, gathering slaves and travelling from kingdom to kingdom. “It just happened.”
“That sounds a bit … are you sure you’re telling me the truth?” she teased. “According to my brother, well, step-brother, becoming a knight is hard work, you don’t just fall into it. He says I’m not allowed to try because of that.” Summer put her hand on Mordred’s knee, leaning into him a bit.
“Were you born here? Do you have any family? Why did you choose to become a knight? How long have you been a knight?” Summer rattles off a few questions, laughing a little, then blushes slightly and looks down. “I’m sorry. I love to learn about people. I’ll — you can ask me anything, now.”
“I was born in the White Mountains, my family are all dead,” he tells her solemnly. “I had no intentions of becoming a knight; it just happened but I’ve been one for three months. Alright, your turn.”
“I was born south of here, far south where the cliffs rise white out of the sea. I have a sister, a twin by birth but not by looks. She’s married to a lord who shares our country. My father sent me here to gain some polish and perhaps find a husband myself, though I think we’ve all given up hope for that. Why did you not wish to become a knight?”
“I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t want to,” Summer says softly. She sits down as told, watching his face with a slightly sad expression on hers. “I very much want to, Mordred. Will you — will you tell me about yourself? I only know your name.”
That was probably the hardest question she had chosen to ask; how could he tells someone about himself when he barely knew? “Well,” he begins, lacing his fingers together in front of him. “I’m a knight, just in case you didn’t know,” he adds with a small smile. “But other than that there is really nothing.”
“Were you born here? Do you have any family? Why did you choose to become a knight? How long have you been a knight?” Summer rattles off a few questions, laughing a little, then blushes slightly and looks down. “I’m sorry. I love to learn about people. I’ll — you can ask me anything, now.”
She sighs, looking down at the ring. “So I guess you don’t want this, since you don’t know me, and you’re being very stiff about it, too.”
A frown crosses his features. “I never said I didn’t,” he tells her simply, crossing one leg over the other. He glances away. “I’m not used to compliments, that is all, please, take a seat, I’m sure if we got to know each other more-” he trails off, “unless you don’t want to.”
“I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t want to,” Summer says softly. She sits down as told, watching his face with a slightly sad expression on hers. “I very much want to, Mordred. Will you — will you tell me about yourself? I only know your name.”
“Timing,” the redhead said succinctly. “Someone like you, I expected to be last in line, not first.” She offered him a curtsey and a wry smile. “I’m Summer, and you are Mordred.”
Mordred gave her a small bow, straightening himself up. “It’s a pleasure,” he tells her with a smile. “Forgive me, but I do not understand your statement.”
