[open]

[illgotten]

It's a nice day, as usual, and Mordred is in the Orkney garden; an altogether more modest affair than Percy's, but still requiring a good deal of work. He's switched back to the T-shirts, and his black hair is ruffled and damp. On the other hand, he looks more relaxed than he has for the past few weeks.

Comments

[thesunbird]

Telemakos has taken to coming to his house perhaps four or five times a month, bringing Athena along, to get good food and to lie in the warm sun and watch Mordred's family, and observe how different it is from Telemakos' own.

At the moment he is actually sound asleep on the doorstep, with the light shining down on his tuft of white hair, and his skin warm to touch, with Athena cuddled in his lap.

[illgotten]

Presently Mordred comes around the side of the house to wash off, and pauses at the sight of them. He splashes water over his hands and face, and then comes over and drips a little on Telemakos.

[thesunbird]

Who comes not-quite-awake with a sick intake of breath and rolls forward, his body curled around Athena, his head tucked under out of the way. His body is shaking, his balance is off.

[illgotten]

"Hey, hey--" Mordred wipes his hands on his trousers and drops down beside them. "Hey. Easy."

[littlebetter]

"Good afternoon." In Latin, but not formal.

[illgotten]

He looks up at once, and straightens. "Hey."

[littlebetter]

"Weeding?"

[illgotten]

"Aye." Already his shoulders are a little more taut, his eyes watchful. "You?"

[hardlyagravated]

The sight of him relaxed coaxes a quiet smile from Laurel. "I never knew you were a farmer at heart, like Percivale."

[illgotten]

Mordred laughs. "I'm not."

[hardlyagravated]

"Perhaps not. But you do look at ease."

[illgotten]

"Nice to have something useful to do." He stretches a little.