(Untitled)

[rebel_son]

Melehan is, at very best, displeased. His sheathe empty at his side-- there's no telling where the sword has gone-- he storms across the Mansion's lawn with a dark expression on his face through which bears a strong resemblance to the Orcadian side of the family.

One can try and talk to him-- a civil response isn't guaranteed.

Comments

[illgotten]

Which is probably not the best time for his father to run across him, but these things happen.

[rebel_son]

"Sir," he says curtly, just because he thinks he ought to.

[illgotten]

Mordred gets a breath. "What's the trouble?"

[rebel_son]

"Naught, sir." Which is pretty obviously a lie.

[illgotten]

"Oh, ay."

[rebel_son]

"Ay, sir," he snaps.

[illgotten]

...Well. He had to get the touchy from somewhere. "A fine temper over naught."

[rebel_son]

"It is my brother, sir," he says at last, in great frustration, both over the issue itself and at being made to talk about it.

[illgotten]

A moment's quiet. "What's happened?"

[rebel_son]

"Though he tells me the war is done, he seeks to continue it."

[illgotten]

"--Is that so."

He probably doesn't mean that to come off as forbidding as it does, but being Mordred, it's that or yell.

[rebel_son]

But confidence that he, for once, cannot possibly be in the wrong, Melehan at least appears unfazed. "Yes, sir."

[illgotten]

"How?" In a familiar tone: spit it out, boy.

[rebel_son]

"He did seek to kill Sir Sagramore," he says.

[illgotten]

"What?"

[rebel_son]

"As I said."