The Dragon and the Dove: third excerpt.
Title: The Dragon and the Dove: a novel in three parts
Author: pax_morgana
Chapter: One
Words: 780 (section); 5,760 (total)
Notes/Warnings: Another random excerpt from part one, "Eidolon". This takes place directly after the second excerpt. No warnings to speak of.
Summary: Mordred becomes acquainted with Sirs Lancelot and Bedwyr.
It did not take long to find the barracks, but locating Sir Bedwyr proved to be much more of a task. I asked after him several times and to anyone who seemed like they'd know, but I received no answer. Eventually, I came upon the other man I'd seen before, with the Roman haircut and catlike eyes. Cautiously, I approached him. Before I could even speak, he nodded an acknowledgment and regarded me with what appeared to be guarded interest. "You're one of the new arrivals. Mordred, was it?" His voice was surprisingly musical, and did not suit his unremarkable features.
"Ah, yes sir. I was - looking for Sir Bedwyr. The King wished to speak with him." The plain-faced knight nodded again and gestured for me to follow him.
"I am Lancelot. I believe we are cousins, you and I. Queen Ygraine was my mother's sister," he explained as we walked together. If that was so, I thought, he must have been older than he looked, for according to my mother, Ygraine had only one sister who was her elder by some years. Though curious, I deigned not to inquire. Taking this as permission to continue, Lancelot went on to add, "That brother of yours, Gawaine, is quite enthusiastic. I've a son nearly his age. He'll be coming to Camelot once he reaches his fifteenth year; I don't want him at the sword so young as your brother, if you'll forgive me." I nodded, and wondered why he'd think I would care about Gawaine's enthusiasm, or his son. I said not as much, but I was eager to take my leave of his presence; there was something to this man that made me quite uncomfortable.
It seemed as though this Lancelot had dragged me all across the grounds before we actually found Sir Bedwyr, at the far corner of one of the practice fields. Studying him now, I found him quite imposing. It was not only his hand that was etched with the Goddess' tattoos, but his neck and face as well. He was sitting at rest, mopping the sweat from his brow with a rag. His sword sat across his lap, and he seemed to be paying more attention to it than to any of the people around, until Lancelot hailed him. Almost immediately, Sir Bedwyr got to his feet and sheathed his blade, both with an easy grace I found amazing for someone so visibly exhausted. I knew I stared, but I could not help myself - I was entranced by this man. When he spoke, it was to Lancelot and not to me, which, though disappointing, was only to be expected.
"Well met, Sir Lancelot. What have we here?" Lancelot laughed melodically, clasping Bedwyr's hand in friendship.
"This is Mordred. Evidently, he has a message for you from the King." I disliked the way Lancelot relayed my intentions; it sounded as though he were mocking me. I felt my face grow hot with shame for having been so gullible - obviously, this was meant to make a fool of me. I silently cursed Lancelot and my father for their jests. I barely heard when Sir Bedwyr prompted me for my message; he had to ask me twice, which was even more embarrassing. When I finally repeated what it was Arthur had asked me to tell him, I could not meet his eyes.
"Forgive me, sir. The King wishes for you to meet with him at once. That is all, sir." I waited for Bedwyr to laugh at me as Lancelot had, or dismiss me for a liar, but the older man simply clapped me on the shoulder as one might a brother. I looked up at him in surprise, meeting light brown eyes that were at once both serious and warm. He grinned at me briefly, showing several missing teeth. The smile was genuine and not mocking, and I felt my mortification drain away slowly.
"That so? Thank you, Mordred. I'll go to him immediately, then. Goddess be with you, lad," said the knight before stepping past me to go to the King.
"You as well," I called after him. He waved his left arm, the handless one, to show he'd heard. Politely, I begged my excuse to Lancelot, who waved me off. Wandering back the way I'd come, I found myself eventually at the room I'd been taken to upon Gawaine's and my arrival. As soon as I sat upon the bed, I realized just how exhausted I was. Flopping back down onto the mattress, I was quickly asleep, scarcely having remembered to take off my boots first. In my slumber, I dreamt of Camelot.
Author: pax_morgana
Chapter: One
Words: 780 (section); 5,760 (total)
Notes/Warnings: Another random excerpt from part one, "Eidolon". This takes place directly after the second excerpt. No warnings to speak of.
Summary: Mordred becomes acquainted with Sirs Lancelot and Bedwyr.
It did not take long to find the barracks, but locating Sir Bedwyr proved to be much more of a task. I asked after him several times and to anyone who seemed like they'd know, but I received no answer. Eventually, I came upon the other man I'd seen before, with the Roman haircut and catlike eyes. Cautiously, I approached him. Before I could even speak, he nodded an acknowledgment and regarded me with what appeared to be guarded interest. "You're one of the new arrivals. Mordred, was it?" His voice was surprisingly musical, and did not suit his unremarkable features.
"Ah, yes sir. I was - looking for Sir Bedwyr. The King wished to speak with him." The plain-faced knight nodded again and gestured for me to follow him.
"I am Lancelot. I believe we are cousins, you and I. Queen Ygraine was my mother's sister," he explained as we walked together. If that was so, I thought, he must have been older than he looked, for according to my mother, Ygraine had only one sister who was her elder by some years. Though curious, I deigned not to inquire. Taking this as permission to continue, Lancelot went on to add, "That brother of yours, Gawaine, is quite enthusiastic. I've a son nearly his age. He'll be coming to Camelot once he reaches his fifteenth year; I don't want him at the sword so young as your brother, if you'll forgive me." I nodded, and wondered why he'd think I would care about Gawaine's enthusiasm, or his son. I said not as much, but I was eager to take my leave of his presence; there was something to this man that made me quite uncomfortable.
It seemed as though this Lancelot had dragged me all across the grounds before we actually found Sir Bedwyr, at the far corner of one of the practice fields. Studying him now, I found him quite imposing. It was not only his hand that was etched with the Goddess' tattoos, but his neck and face as well. He was sitting at rest, mopping the sweat from his brow with a rag. His sword sat across his lap, and he seemed to be paying more attention to it than to any of the people around, until Lancelot hailed him. Almost immediately, Sir Bedwyr got to his feet and sheathed his blade, both with an easy grace I found amazing for someone so visibly exhausted. I knew I stared, but I could not help myself - I was entranced by this man. When he spoke, it was to Lancelot and not to me, which, though disappointing, was only to be expected.
"Well met, Sir Lancelot. What have we here?" Lancelot laughed melodically, clasping Bedwyr's hand in friendship.
"This is Mordred. Evidently, he has a message for you from the King." I disliked the way Lancelot relayed my intentions; it sounded as though he were mocking me. I felt my face grow hot with shame for having been so gullible - obviously, this was meant to make a fool of me. I silently cursed Lancelot and my father for their jests. I barely heard when Sir Bedwyr prompted me for my message; he had to ask me twice, which was even more embarrassing. When I finally repeated what it was Arthur had asked me to tell him, I could not meet his eyes.
"Forgive me, sir. The King wishes for you to meet with him at once. That is all, sir." I waited for Bedwyr to laugh at me as Lancelot had, or dismiss me for a liar, but the older man simply clapped me on the shoulder as one might a brother. I looked up at him in surprise, meeting light brown eyes that were at once both serious and warm. He grinned at me briefly, showing several missing teeth. The smile was genuine and not mocking, and I felt my mortification drain away slowly.
"That so? Thank you, Mordred. I'll go to him immediately, then. Goddess be with you, lad," said the knight before stepping past me to go to the King.
"You as well," I called after him. He waved his left arm, the handless one, to show he'd heard. Politely, I begged my excuse to Lancelot, who waved me off. Wandering back the way I'd come, I found myself eventually at the room I'd been taken to upon Gawaine's and my arrival. As soon as I sat upon the bed, I realized just how exhausted I was. Flopping back down onto the mattress, I was quickly asleep, scarcely having remembered to take off my boots first. In my slumber, I dreamt of Camelot.