Another snippet from not!PL
So, here is a bit of the story told from Mordred's point of view. It's about 900 words and I think this bit is probably PG13.
Sunk in his own grief and concentrating on controlling his newfound power, Mordred had no time to question Kara’s ability with magic. He felt, from the bottom of his heart, that the gods must have sent her to him for how else could he explain the serendipity of her arrival and their sympathy for one another?
Mordred stood, clasping a hand to Nimueh’s, and pulled her with him. They stumbled awkwardly for a moment and laughed. Mordred slung his arm around her shoulder and they walked back to camp, navigating the rough terrain in the dark together.
“Ah, Mordred, I see you’ve met Kara,” Iseldir said when they returned to camp. Mordred could not contain his joy. His body was too small a container for it and he felt his face ache with the strain of his smile. Iseldir chuckled.
“Well, you two make a pretty pair. Perhaps you will be good for each other at that,” he said, stroking his chin with a finger. Mordred did not understand the expression on Iseldir’s face until he said, “But you will keep to separate sleeping tents.”
As Mordred nodded, he felt Kara nodding alongside.
“Very well then, young ones, it is late. I have been waiting for your return and now that I know you are safe, I will retire. I recommend that you do so as well. There is always tomorrow.”
Reluctant to let her go so soon, Mordred dragged his feet on the way to Kara’s tent. His father’s death had shown him that people he loved could be ripped away from him in an instant. He did not want to let her go.
Kara, on the other hand, seemed to bubble over with delight. Where she had been shy when they were alone in the forest, now she was talking happily about what they might do on the morrow. Mordred didn’t pay much attention to the content of her words; he tried to enjoy them and not worry too much about what the future might hold.
Sleep had not been a close companion for Mordred since his visit to Camelot and the loss of his father, but tonight, for the first time in many nights, he had happy things to think about and he drifted off quickly.
In the morning, he woke refreshed, eager to start the day. His heart lifted: he was no longer alone. He dressed quickly and stepped outside his tent, looking for Kara.
Iseldir had actually sanctioned Mordred’s desire to spend all day in the forest with Kara. Well, to be honest, what he had said was that Kara could join him on his daily ventures for herbs and other materials and perhaps it would be mutually beneficial. Mordred hadn’t really understood what he might have to teach Kara, but again, he wasn’t inclined to question his luck as events had lately not favored him.
Mordred’s control of magic was inconsistent, due to lack of instruction as well as practice. He had had a couple instances of magic backfiring when someone more experienced was nearby that he had been reluctant to practice on his own. It was one thing to harm oneself during these experiments, another thing entirely to inflame an entire forest, destroying trees and the small creatures who lived there. Mordred shuddered at that thought. He had always loved the way the druids valued all life.
This morning, he and Kara had been tasked with finding mandrake. Mandrake was hard to harvest. First you had to find it and then dig the reluctant plant out of the ground with your hands hoping its screams did not drive you mad before you severed its connection from the mother plant.
So, Mordred was not looking too carefully, hoping that they might actually come home empty handed. He had not collected mandrake for some time, but the memory was enough to deter him from being efficient.
“Oh, Mordred, look!” Kara pointed to a spot on the ground not too distant. He didn’t see anything special and started to shake his head and tell her so when he caught a sparkle amongst the leaves. He gasped.
Standing very still, Mordred looked around. He listened intently for any sign - a certain creaking, or a huffing. Eyes closed, he tried to sense if there was an unnatural breeze or a sulfur fueled fire. He released a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding and opened his eyes.
“It’s clear. There are no dragons nearby.”
She smiled and they walked over to the glinting dragon scale. Mordred crouched on the forest floor, settling back on one heel that sank a fraction in the soft dirt. For a moment, he just looked at the solitary scale, appreciating its beauty; dark, but luminous. He reached out, slowly, almost afraid to touch it, but unable to stop himself. Dragons were paradox incarnate, a quality which apparently transferred when they came into contact with humans.
Object achieved, he marveled at the smooth surface. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before. It was hard, like pottery, but the sheen on it was greater than that of a horse’s hoof even. Awestruck, he held it out for Kara to see.
“Look, it’s a dragon scale.”
“I know that, foolish boy,” she teased with a grin on her face.
Feeling a bit sheepish, he replied, “Oh, right. Of course. Well, but have you seen one up close? Have you held one?”
“No,” she told him, eyes wide.
Well, he thought, the joke was on her now, wasn’t it?
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