[snapshot]

[illgotten]

It's like a cloud lifting. His face still shows signs of the strain that's present in his stance, his movements; but in a different, less grim light.

And he walks a different way this afternoon, up the path that leads past Melehan's cabin and eventually, by a roundabout way, to the Mansion; the way Cywyllog so often walks.

typist: yes, this

Comments

[cywyllog]

Often enough that it's a reliable way to find her, if one is so inclined. And it seems Mordred is, so he is rewarded - if we can call it that - with the sight of her slim figure not too far ahead on the trail.

[illgotten]

Whereupon it becomes a bit late to change his mind. So he walks on a few paces, casually, hands in his pockets. "Lady."

[cywyllog]

She stops and waits for him, head tilted and expression carefully neutral. "My lord."

[illgotten]

His cheeks redden, from more than the cold. "Don't start that, will you?"

[cywyllog]

Innocently, "Start what? It is your proper form of address."

[illgotten]

"Like hell." Defensive.

[cywyllog]

"Mordred, then, if you wish," she frowns.

[illgotten]

"Don't let me impose," sourly. So much for peacemaking.

[cywyllog]

She closes her eyes briefly and sighs.

"Were you heading to the Mansion as well?"

[illgotten]

"Wanted to talk to you," he says shortly. Which he did, except that, as usual, it's all going wrong.

[cywyllog]

"I see," she replies and then falls silent for a few moments. "Well, here I am."

[illgotten]

He looks away from her, a slanting glance down into the brush beside the path, and says nothing for a minute. Then, "I told you how it was. Fair warning."

[cywyllog]

"Yes, you did. I knew it would happen, sooner or later."

[illgotten]

"So don't stand there looking like I've--"

[cywyllog]

"You have done nothing you should not have," she replies quickly. "Not that you need me to tell you that."

[illgotten]

"Of course," tiredly. "I can't do anything wrong, can I? God."