(no subject)
Title: The End of Summer
Author: Soujin
Characters/Pairings: Sagramore/Gwenhwyfach
Rating: R
Archive: Sure
Disclaimer: Copyright has presumably expired.
Summary: More Last Days badthings.
Notes: Double-drabble for get_laid25.
"Lady--" pleading.
"No. Have you heard him speak to them? No. I won't leave them with him." Gwenhwyfach's face is flushed.
"But he loves you," Sagramore says. "Christ, you think I don't know that? You know that."
"I don't care. I won't have my children hurt."
"And you love him."
Softer, "He has you."
"That doesn't follow--"
Gwenhwyfach reaches for him and draws him to her for a moment, kisses him, as she used to before she fell in love with her husband, when she came to him for warmth as often as Mordred did, and lay with him in the same bed where often as not he'd lain with Mordred a little while before. He loves them, both of them, and it didn't trouble him that in the morning he'd let Gwenhwyfach in, pass his hands through her long yellow hair and press kisses between her legs, and in the dark groan aloud when Mordred stroked him with long, hungry fingers.
But Gwenhwyfach and Mordred reconciled, and Sagramore, loyal, found other lovers.
Now Gwenhwyfach steps back to look at his face.
"You've been a good friend to us both. Be that now."
"No--"
"I rely on you."
He nods.
Author: Soujin
Characters/Pairings: Sagramore/Gwenhwyfach
Rating: R
Archive: Sure
Disclaimer: Copyright has presumably expired.
Summary: More Last Days badthings.
Notes: Double-drabble for get_laid25.
"Lady--" pleading.
"No. Have you heard him speak to them? No. I won't leave them with him." Gwenhwyfach's face is flushed.
"But he loves you," Sagramore says. "Christ, you think I don't know that? You know that."
"I don't care. I won't have my children hurt."
"And you love him."
Softer, "He has you."
"That doesn't follow--"
Gwenhwyfach reaches for him and draws him to her for a moment, kisses him, as she used to before she fell in love with her husband, when she came to him for warmth as often as Mordred did, and lay with him in the same bed where often as not he'd lain with Mordred a little while before. He loves them, both of them, and it didn't trouble him that in the morning he'd let Gwenhwyfach in, pass his hands through her long yellow hair and press kisses between her legs, and in the dark groan aloud when Mordred stroked him with long, hungry fingers.
But Gwenhwyfach and Mordred reconciled, and Sagramore, loyal, found other lovers.
Now Gwenhwyfach steps back to look at his face.
"You've been a good friend to us both. Be that now."
"No--"
"I rely on you."
He nods.