☩Sadly, the age of gallantry seems to be dead☩ Attn: Mordred & Sagramore

[magicalskeptic]

The Wayfaring Mare has few protective structures.  The grounds are open for anyone who wishes to trespass as the gate is more decorative than functional.  It is something Morgana wishes to change in the future but as her focus was, at first, getting the inn fitted for guests, then the party, and the main house being secure, it means that any plans

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[northseaflotsam]

He turns up punctually, neat and sober in his grey sweater and jeans, his black hair (so much like Morgana's own) ruffled by the wind. A few paces away from her he halts, and bows, without a trace of irony. "Lady?"

[magicalskeptic]

Morgana stays seated. It's rude, but she'll justify her behaviour by her half-grown kitten being settled on her lap. She's can't quite bring herself to respond in kind to him.

"Mordred. I presume you are curious as to the circumstances regarding my note."

At least she leaves off any comment on whether or not he provided Miss Ross with a gratuity.

[northseaflotsam]

A little quirk of the mouth. "If I admit to wanting to know, you're just as likely not to tell me, aren't you? So perhaps I'll let that pass."

[magicalskeptic]

In the past, this would have been the case, so it does not make confiding in him even easier.

"He is still recovering, yet he finds himself in town, and incapable of making his way back to his cottage without assistance. He is," she is tempted to say behaving like a fool, which is accurate, but Morgana will not use that term with Mordred. "Not assisting in his own recovery. When I threatened to inform you, he did not believe I would."

It is at this point she does stand, collecting Veda in her arms, though the cat isn't thrilled with being disturbed. "My concern for him overcomes my dislike of you."

[northseaflotsam]

Mordred inclines his head gravely. "What would you have me do?"

[magicalskeptic]

The following admission hurts, but it's honest.

"I do not know how to help him."

[northseaflotsam]

He studies her for a long moment in silence. Then he smiles, and not in triumph; a crooked, difficult smile that softens his sharp eyes.

"My lady," he says gently, "it seems to me you've done a very great deal to help him."

[magicalskeptic]

"He has not healed." It's an accusation, but without the venom Mordred may have come to expect from her.

"And what he is doing is only making things worse. There is no purpose in any help if he cannot be well enough to manage on his own."

She thinks back to her talk with Sagramore. "I think he is pining for you. If you can convince him not to be so destructive," she looks at her kitten while she finishes what she has to say. "You will be welcome to visit him without any conditions."

[northseaflotsam]

A deep breath. "I'll do what I can. Though I don't know that anyone on earth can keep Sagramore in his bed if he's determined to be up."

[magicalskeptic]

Morgana moves past him, presuming Mordred's not been to Sagramore's cottage, at least, she hopes as much, otherwise her friend is keeping secrets.

"As far as I am aware, he is at home." And Morgana's kept a very, very close eye on her patient since his last excursion.

"I do not know if he was displeased or amused at my reaction to his last trip into town."

[northseaflotsam]

"Knowing him, it's probably both." He follows at a respectful distance.

[magicalskeptic]

Morgana stifles a grin at that comment. It would've been more wry than genuine amusement, but still, she's not forgotten anything when it comes to Mordred.

The cottage in question is at the far end of the garden. It offers the most amount of privacy, but not when the mistress of the house feels the need to check on her patient. Thus, she knocks loudly on the door.

"Sir, are you awake?" The tone is far warmer than Mordred would have heard from her previously.

[crophisownrose]

"Yes--igen, yes." He opens the door, leaning on the frame.

[northseaflotsam]

"The hell do you think you're doing?" and if Morgana's tone is gentler, Mordred's is as different again from the grave respect he used with her: rough, a little aggressive, but with an unmistakable warmth. "Are you or are you not supposed to stay in bed?"

[magicalskeptic]

If ever Morgana was going to regret inviting Mordred over to prove a point to Sagramore, the former's tone alleviates any worry.

So, Morgana, in what can only be called the brattiest of little sister tones (anyone named Arthur would find the smugness extremely familiar) "I do believe I told you, sir," she is addressing Sagramore, while trying, and failing, not to smirk, "that your lord would not approve of your behaviour."

"Do you plan to let us in?"

[crophisownrose]

"Good Christ, I never thought you were coming. This place is a damned mess." He starts back, trying to move things around, and to nudge the bottle of brandy under the bed at the same time. Kutya stays glued to his leg the whole time, which doesn't make it at all easier.