sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

She closed both hands around the hilt, lifting it slowly from his hands. “I love to tempt you. But this is my task, I think.” The edges of the blade glittered in the slanting morning light. “Time to go chastise my brother.” Summer glanced at Mordred, eyes dark and set. “You don’t have to watch.”

      “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

That made her laugh and pushed the fear away. She blew a swift kiss to Mordred. Resting the sword on her shoulder, Summer turned on her bootheel and marched out to the field, where Edward waited, plate mail and shield throwing off flashes of light. She knew she seemed frail, very small, next to him. Most of the folk of the castle were there, lining the open square.

Summer paced out to the centre of the field, a few steps from Edward. Gravely she saluted him with the sword, and he bared his teeth at her in snarling acknowledgement. “You can still change your mind, Summer,” he said.

She laughed at him. “I’ve no more desire to disobey our father than you want to be here. En garde, braud.” The tangle of languages fell off her tongue easily, and she lifted the sword higher, stepping closer. “You made a mistake. You’ve made a lot of mistakes, but this one — ” Summer shook her head. The twined braids flared like fire around her head.

Edward jerked his shield up hastily as she brought the sword around, barely catching the blow. It wasn’t hard or heavy, but he staggered a little nonetheless, and fell back a step. She advanced on him, sword in a two-handed grip, the blade licking out at him. It took a full minute before he regained his mental equilibrium, and he took one sharp strike to the shoulder before he managed it.

Then it was Summer’s turn to fall back as Edward tried to bash her. She ducked and wove, spinning beneath an outflung arm, and scrambled backwards as he came at her again. And if quickly became apparent to the onlookers that though he was stronger, and perhaps better trained, she was simply faster and better. Another spin, and then she thrust a foot out, and Edward staggered over it, and fell, heavily.

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

“If you’d rather fight for me,” Summer said, wryly. She shook herself, then pulled herself up straight. “Well. My sword?”

      “Don’t tempt me,” he tells her, turning to take her sword, presenting the hilt to her. “Here you are.”

She closed both hands around the hilt, lifting it slowly from his hands. “I love to tempt you. But this is my task, I think.” The edges of the blade glittered in the slanting morning light. “Time to go chastise my brother.” Summer glanced at Mordred, eyes dark and set. “You don’t have to watch.”

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

She shivered a little at the tug on her scalp. “Distracted?” she offered. “I’m looking forward to chasing Edward around the field while he tries to fend me off with nothing but a shield.” She lifted each foot and rotated the ankle.

     ”I‘m going to enjoy it — I believe everyone else might too,” he tells her, “alright, all done.”

Neatly, she braided it again, tightly to her scalp with a handful of pins, then shook her head hard, to see if it would come loose. “Thank you. Will you come down to the armory, then?”

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

“Should I have tried to sneak in here last night, then?” Summer asked. She rubbed her fingers together, loosening them up, twisting her wrists after. It’s been a while since she lifted a sword, and she didn’t want to strain anything.

     ”You needed your sleep,” he says, running his fingers through her hair, getting a knot out of it. “How are you feeling?”

She shivered a little at the tug on her scalp. “Distracted?” she offered. “I’m looking forward to chasing Edward around the field while he tries to fend me off with nothing but a shield.” She lifted each foot and rotated the ankle.

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

“Your childhood,” she said, softly. Obedient, she sat, holding very still. “You don’t have to say, if you don’t want to.”

      “Good — because I don’t want to,” he tells her, running the brush gently through her hair.

“Should I have tried to sneak in here last night, then?” Summer asked. She rubbed her fingers together, loosening them up, twisting her wrists after. It’s been a while since she lifted a sword, and she didn’t want to strain anything.

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

She took the vambrace back and put the hairbrush in his hand before putting the piece of armour down. “Brush. You can talk and brush at the same time. What nightmare? Not about today, surely.”

     ”Sit,” he orders, moving behind her, taking her hair out of its braid. “It was about something that happened a long time ago.”

“Your childhood,” she said, softly. Obedient, she sat, holding very still. “You don’t have to say, if you don’t want to.”

sirmordred-thedruid:

iamthefirechild:

It felt strange, sleeping apart from him. Truth, it felt strange sleeping alone at all. Before she went to Camelot, Winter had been just married, and Summer hadn’t yet gotten used to sleeping without her, and now she was cold and lonely-feeling without Mordred. She didn’t sleep well, and got up very early to lean on one of the battlements and watch the sun rise.

After a while, she went down to the armory to assemble her gear. No chain, but hardened leather shaped to her body; a sword some hands shorter than most, but more suited to her height and weight; no shield, just steel vambraces the length of her forearm. Edward would have only a shield, and his armor.

Going back up, but to Mordred’s room instead, she tapped on the door and slipped in. “Will you help me brush my hair?”

       Mordred’s attention snapped up from his armour to the door, a smile finding his lips as he set down his vambrace. “Of course, I would love to.”

“Why are you awake so early?” she asked, offering him the hairbrush. “You can’t be worried.” She picked up the vambrace he’d set down, turning it over in her hands, putting her wrist through it. “Yours is much bigger than mine,” she mused.