{"id":21025,"date":"2013-11-12T04:55:58","date_gmt":"2013-11-12T04:55:58","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.firechildren.net\/lightfire\/iamthefirechild\/2013\/11\/12\/it-takes-a-while-to-track-him-down-camelot-is-not-6\/"},"modified":"2013-11-12T04:55:58","modified_gmt":"2013-11-12T04:55:58","slug":"it-takes-a-while-to-track-him-down-camelot-is-not-6","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.firechildren.net\/lightfire\/iamthefirechild\/2013\/11\/12\/it-takes-a-while-to-track-him-down-camelot-is-not-6\/","title":{"rendered":"It takes a while to track him down; Camelot is not a small place, even just the castle. Finally Summer finds him in the armory, putting away his weapons after practise. “Mordred.” There’s only one door, so she stands in it, trying to look a little intimidating. It’s hard to be angry at him, though; her voice comes out more worried. “Mordred. What are you hiding from me?”"},"content":{"rendered":"

sirmordred-thedruid<\/a>:<\/p>\n

\n

iamthefirechild<\/a>:<\/p>\n

\n

xregicide-deactivated20140812<\/a>:<\/p>\n

\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0<\/span>M<\/strong>ordred stopped, placing his vambrace down on the bench, his heart sinking. For a moment he concentrates completely on his armour, how could he answer such a question? Telling her would mean her life and the lives of those whom called Camelot home. An\u00a0<\/span>impossible<\/em> predicament. \u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0T<\/strong>he young knight turns to face her, his fingers brushing lightly against the metal of his armour. \u201cI\u2019m not hiding anything\u201d he tells her simply.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

When Mordred gets there, Morgana is calmly seated at the table, cutting bits off an apple and eating them. At her feet, Summer lies in a heap, eyes swollen with crying and throat raw from screaming. The Nathair is coiled in its box, close by Morgana\u2019s hand, and a map is spread on the table.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I trust you slept well, Mordred.” It\u2019s as if the events of hours ago had never happened. “Come, warm yourself. We must plan the assault.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0H<\/strong>e stops, his face contorting in anger and pain as he notices Summer in a heap on the floor. For a moment, the entire world ceases to exist before his gaze flicks to Morgana. \u201cWhat did you do to her?\u201d he hisses, moving towards her but he is sent flying across the space of the tent with a single flick of her wrist. Mordred chokes, the air from his lungs being removed in a swift motion as he curls up on his side, struggling to breathe. \u201cOnce you\u2019re done with your ignorance, Mordred, you may sit.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Summer struggles to her knees, trying anyhow to crawl to Mordred, and casually Morgana fists a hand in her bright hair and jerks her down. Her throat is so scraped she can’t even make a sound at the tug, just falls back with her mouth gaping.<\/p>\n

‘Mordred,’ her lips shape, soundlessly.<\/p>\n

Morgana’s gaze flicks back to the map. “I want to use this path to come in on Arthur from the flank.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

sirmordred-thedruid: iamthefirechild: xregicide-deactivated20140812: \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0Mordred stopped, placing his vambrace down on the bench, his heart sinking. For a moment he concentrates completely on his armour, how could he answer such a question? Telling her would mean her life and the lives of those whom called Camelot home. An\u00a0impossible predicament. \u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0The young … Continue reading It takes a while to track him down; Camelot is not a small place, even just the castle. Finally Summer finds him in the armory, putting away his weapons after practise. “Mordred.” There’s only one door, so she stands in it, trying to look a little intimidating. It’s hard to be angry at him, though; her voice comes out more worried. “Mordred. What are you hiding from me?”<\/span> →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[10,2390,2399,2025],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.firechildren.net\/lightfire\/iamthefirechild\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21025"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.firechildren.net\/lightfire\/iamthefirechild\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.firechildren.net\/lightfire\/iamthefirechild\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.firechildren.net\/lightfire\/iamthefirechild\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.firechildren.net\/lightfire\/iamthefirechild\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=21025"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.firechildren.net\/lightfire\/iamthefirechild\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21025\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.firechildren.net\/lightfire\/iamthefirechild\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=21025"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.firechildren.net\/lightfire\/iamthefirechild\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=21025"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.firechildren.net\/lightfire\/iamthefirechild\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=21025"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}