{"id":22479,"date":"2013-10-28T20:51:10","date_gmt":"2013-10-28T20:51:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.firechildren.net\/lightfire\/iamthefirechild\/2013\/10\/28\/it-takes-a-while-to-track-him-down-camelot-is-not-60\/"},"modified":"2013-10-28T20:51:10","modified_gmt":"2013-10-28T20:51:10","slug":"it-takes-a-while-to-track-him-down-camelot-is-not-60","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.firechildren.net\/lightfire\/iamthefirechild\/2013\/10\/28\/it-takes-a-while-to-track-him-down-camelot-is-not-60\/","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

She flinches back, wholly involuntarily, and for the first time fears him a little. \u201cPlease,\u201d she pleads back, in return. \u201cOnly tell me, don\u2019t lie to me.\u201d Tears stand in her eyes. \u201cWhy do you insist on lying to me?\u201d<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0‘Please’<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u2019Don\u2019t make this harder than it already is.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0H<\/strong>e could see the fear in her eyes and receded slightly, taking a step back. \u201cBecause it\u2019s for your own good and has got nothing to do with you, Summer,\u201d Mordred tells her, \u201cnow get out of my way, please.\u201d His voice breaks involuntarily in the last sentence and he does his best to hide the strain.\u00a0‘This is the only way.’<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

His words snap something inside her, overwhelming her sense of his emotions. “For my own good?” she spits, anger redoubling. “\/For my own good\/? What do you know of my good? Do you think — do you think I cannot protect myself? I’m not, not strong enough, not — damn you, Mordred. I am not fragile, I am not some helpless maiden.” The tears which slide down her face are born now of fury, and she sucks in a harsh breath.<\/p>\n

“Fine. When you believe that you can trust me with honesty, come and find me.”<\/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\/22479"}],"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=22479"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.firechildren.net\/lightfire\/iamthefirechild\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22479\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.firechildren.net\/lightfire\/iamthefirechild\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=22479"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.firechildren.net\/lightfire\/iamthefirechild\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=22479"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.firechildren.net\/lightfire\/iamthefirechild\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=22479"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}