Anti-OTP: Mordred/Laurel

[illgotten]

Mordred is sitting on the doorstep in the late afternoon sun, peeling last year's potatoes and occasionally cursing when his fingers slip. Fortunately he's almost done, having sustained only glancing injury.

Comments

[hardlyagravated]

She comes out to join him, a bit besmudged with flour from the savory pies she's been making. "You peel potatoes like you've been doing it all your life," she observes, sitting down nearby.

[illgotten]

He smiles a little. "Inborn talent."

[hardlyagravated]

"Ah, clearly. A shame it was Gareth who ended up in the kitchens." She smiles a bit.

[illgotten]

"Yes, well. He always does luck out."

[hardlyagravated]

"Perhaps so. Do you need me to look at your hand?" She indicates the small place he caught himself.

[illgotten]

"No, no, it's fine." He puts it to his mouth briefly. "I've had worse," with a little grin.

[hardlyagravated]

"Well, yes. I've seen you worse. But even so."

[illgotten]

"If it will make you happy," amused. He holds out his hand to her.

[hardlyagravated]

She takes it to inspect it. "Could use cleaning. But nothing dire. Would you like me to fetch a bandage?"

[illgotten]

"I told you it was fine." But there's laughter in his voice. He picks up the half-finished potato again.

[hardlyagravated]

"Ah, well. I'm in the habit of ignoring, after living with my lord husband. You'll forgive me."

[illgotten]

"Oh, doubtless."

[hardlyagravated]

"Aye, I'm sure it gives you many hours of amusement."

[illgotten]

"Not really." The last curl comes free; he shakes it onto the pile, and puts both potato and knife into the bowl with the rest. "There."

[hardlyagravated]

"Mm. Always good to finish something."

[illgotten]

He grins. "I didn't notice you offering to help."