Knight with a Druid.

[mordred]

Recently the young Druid boy had been separated from his people, and he was on his own. He'd just traveled to where he could, going in a random direction, and that had landed Mordred in the Forests of Balor. He knew that the forest was not safe for most, as it was riddled with thieves, bandits and dangerous animals. The forest had a path that was created by fallen leaves. The trees though not large and dense enough to truly loose sight of where you were, were tall and had a dense canopy which let in limited sunlight.

And yet, he didn't stick to the path, he took to dodging trees, and through the denser areas of the forest. With a startling realization that he was lost, Mordred wandered through the forest, hoping for some clue as to where to go. Each step he took, he could hear the jostling of leaves, and it put his senses on high alert.

Against his best judgment Mordred stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath. “Is anyone there?” He tried, not even bothering to reach out with his mind, as he'd be less likely to get a response. His eyes narrowed, as he glanced around, eyes darting from tree to tree as he pivoted around. Not seeing anyone he grew frustrated. Perhaps it had just been an animal of some sort. But, that still didn't explain why rustle of leaves, unless there were many animals. So he tried one more feeble attempt. “Is anyone there? Come out, come out where ever you are!”

Tag: Lancelot
Setting: In the Forest of Balor.
Time of day: Let's say mid day.
Timeline: Between “The Nightmare Begins” and “Lancelot and Guinevère”
_{P.S. Blame Arthur for the title.}

[Deleted]

Lancelot, for a short time, Sir Lancelot, had been quite the wandering knight since he had voluntarily put himself into exile from Camelot after he had successfully destroyed the Gryffon. Of course he had had the magical help of Merlin, but neither Arthur nor Uther had known that. As a result, Arthur had wanted Lancelot reinstated as a Knight of Camelot, but King Uther had refused. It was that disagreement that Lancelot had tried to defuse by leaving. Of course he was not a knight anymore, but he had thought that he could become one, elsewhere.

He had hoped that he could prove himself, and even though not an English noble, he had hoped that he could prove his worth as a potential knight. he had, for example performed some service for the Earl of Huntingdon in Wessex, but his lack of English nobility really prevented any advancement. So, as time went on he was reduced to being a soldier of fortune to feed and maintain himself.

The Code of Honor, which he had come to believe was so important, for a Knight, had proven not be something that was instrumental for the life expectancy of a fighting man who had to seek every advantage to survive. As a result, he had come to believe that everything that he had taught himself was important to be a Knight was either untrue or that he was simply a failure at. Despite this change of view on his part, he found it difficult, to not do the honorable thing when the opportunity arose. However, he also sensed that his conscience was less bothered if he was not able to do the 'right' thing.

His general life situation meant that he often did not have the funds to stay at an Inn or even a tavern and he had learned through habit to take his rest in the dense forests of Britain. he frequently, for example, found himself in the Balor Forest. With the prevailing situation in which both bandits and enchanted creatures occupied the Balor, it was not the safest of places, so he had to be ever watchful. On this date, for example, he had heard the unusual sound, at least in this dense part of the Balor of the the footsteps of someone. However, they appeared to be quite light, and not made by horse or adult. He followed the sound, gradually getting closer, often finding the sound stop. Of course that meant they had stopped, so did he.

This game had gone on for quite sometime, when finally, he was very close and he heard a small voice cry out. Lancelot , who was leading his black Arabian stallion on foot stepped out of the brush and declared to the source of the words, which was either a midget or a small boy, "Yes, young master, I am here, but what is a small one doing in this part of the Balor. I would hardly think that it is the safest place for one to be. Is there some assistance that i could provide to one who is dressed in the garb of a Druid," he said with a raised eyebrow. He was was wary, but he did keep both of his long-swords sheathed.

[mordred]

After the little game, so to speak of what he'd felt similar to hide and seek the boy frustrated as he was would stop walking, and start. A response to his words, curious tone had followed. He tried to think of how the man's words were uttered. He was being mistaken for an innocent child, and that would certainly come to his advantage should the situation arise. He was certain he wouldn't have to. The man looked not like any bandit he'd ever heard of when he'd finally let his gaze settle on the figure of an older male.

“I was separated from my group...” Mordred stated, his own feelings of wariness were beginning to rise, as he noticed the man to be a soldier of some sort. This alone made his mind restless. The last time he'd seen a soldier was when the camp was being attacked and that hadn't left him with good memories. He didn't quite know what to make of the older brunet. It was worrisome enough without the idea that the man was from Camelot, although he thought as well that he hadn't recognized him.

Reaching his hands up to pull the hood of his dark green traveling cloak down, he kept his eyes on the older male. He had many curious thoughts and yet didn't want to voice them. He was not one for talking, it was not his personal favorite form of communication. Blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he worked up the courage to speak.

“I am not as defenseless as you may like to think, as a first statement. Why are you out here? Are you a soldier?” He questioned apprehensively. Why am I even bothering? This man could be dangerous, and he looks like he is a soldier, it would have been safer if I hadn't asked questions. I should just run before he does something, Mordred found himself thinking as he took a step further away from the older male. The young Druid boy watched the unknown soldier with caution. The only reason he wasn't running was that he felt it unwise to turn his back to someone with weaponry, whether he had done so before or not.

Mordred opened his mouth to say something then stopped himself, taking small steps backwards. “...I mean it, why are you out in the forests of Balor?” He asked, trying to remain with a calm tone and yet failed as his voice gave way to how nervous he was. One more step back, and a protruding root of a tree caused him to stumble before landing on the ground with a soft thud and a small groan. Glancing still at the man, even from his place on the ground he couldn't help but feel terrified despite knowing he had his magic to help him out of any sticky situation to come. Finally he decided to state his name. “My name is Mordred.” He said with an air of false confidence.

[Deleted]

Lancelot had never met a Druid face-to-face, but this one fit the descriptions of the group that he had heard several times before, just in a smaller package. By his speech and his reaction, Lancelot did not think that he had wanted to be found. And if he didn't want to be found, here in the Balor, that meant that he feared being found more than the dangers that existed in this dark forest, which were considerable. Lancelot, of course, knew that the Druids were thought to be practitioners of magic,and as such, had been targets of Uther, he knew.

At least initially, that meant that Lancelot thought that he should tread very carefully with this one, since it would only be natural that he would have a good amount of fear. Lancelot could only hearken back to his own experience, and if he would have been this boy's age and run across an armed older soldier in the deep woods, he would be fearful and defensive as well. However, what would be the best way to put the boy at ease, he wondered. The starting point, he figured would be to introduce himself.

However, even before he could, the boy began to try to explain his personal situation. "Hmmmm ...... was your group this deep into the Balor I wonder," Lancelot stated quite matter-a-factly. He could tell by the boy's tone of voice and the way the words came out that he was being quite careful of both what he did say and what he was attentive at not saying. The boy was unsure of the ground he was on. That was apparent. "I think not. I think that you have traveled for some time and some distance from where they were originally," he surmised.

For a moment Lancelot wondered if he had seen the boy during his brief stay in Camelot some months previously, but on reflecting, realized his face nor voice was familiar. The boy was wearing a well-worn traveling cloak, typical of the Druids, or so he had heard, while Lancelot wore his rather weather-beaten brownish-green traveling cloak. Only the hilts of his two longswords, sheathed over his back, stuck out of the cloak in back of his neck. he also carried a powerful curved bow.

"It is not my habit, young one, to underestimate anyone's abilities. That's how I have managed to survive as long as I have. However, after my first meeting with Merlin," he considered, "I would not have imagined what he was capable of." Lancelot smiled at the rapid-fire questions that his new acquaintance spat out. "I have come to prefer the forest, and its greenery and its life, and its foliage can sometimes hide me when I have a need. Its a good place for contemplation too I've found. Yes, I am a soldier, but one who through necessity of making a living, to work for nobles and kings as they have a need for my services."

Lancelot noted that the young man was not any less wary than he had been at the beginning of their meeting. Although the boy was trying to do it slowly it was obvious to Lancelot that he was steadily trying to back his way into the forest, and safety, although the boy had nothing to fear from Lancelot, who in his own way was a fugitive, in that he was always running from his past as well. Finally, though, the boy stopped his backward progress as he tripped and fell down, and almost defensively, introduced himself. "Well ..... Mordred .... is it ..... I am happy to make your acquaintance. I am Lancelot Du Lac, once, for a short time, Sir Lancelot Du Lac, but I am no more. I promise you, you have nothing to fear from me. King Uther stripped me of my knighthood some time ago."

[mordred]

Hands resting on the ground on either side of himself the boy glanced up to the soldier again. His eyes Widened as he was questioned about his group, and then how the soldier had continued on to say that he must have traveled. To that Mordred gave a nod. “We were in the forest near Camelot's Northern border in Cenred's kingdom.” He admitted, realization struck him as he figured out that the man had been far from a fool like the other soldiers he'd come across in the past. It relieved his just the slightest that he hadn't already attacked him, which if it had been a person looking to cause harm, he was certain would already have happened.

Anxiety around the older male slowly dissipated and he let his eyes trail over the older male, taking in his features, and what he wore. Feeling comfortable enough to move, Mordred pushed himself up and finally let his gaze settle away from Lancelot. Carefully his dusted himself off and then took a deep breath. He had remained quiet through out Lancelot's talking and then shyly gave a small smile.

“It... It's a pleasure to meet you. You know Emrys?” He questioned at first before shaking his head slightly. “Wouldn't have imagined that he has magic, you say...” The child mused as he decided to be brave and took a few steps closer to the soldier. “So, you worked for that man?” He questioned. “I dislike him. I very much so dislike the King. He has no reason to declare war on magic... Nor to make it a crime to be a Druid. My mentor was killed... Because of him.” He admitted, eyes downcast as he thought about it. Mordred wanted to change topics so he thought of what he could talk about.

“...Why did you want to be a knight?” He asked curiously. To him the knights were nothing but soldiers, and soldiers have killed innocent people that had no crimes committed. He was still wondering about Lancelot's reasoning despite it probably being a personal reason, that or it would be a question to be answered with a question along the lines of, Why are you a Druid?

To have asked a question like that, was one of his hopes of just keeping the other male talking, as the he wouldn't have to talk any longer, and that would make it easier on him in the long run, his voice was already getting tired, due to not being used often. If only his telepathy worked on nonmagical beings, he'd be set. And yet, that was sadly not the case so he'd just have to buy himself time to rest his voice before the conversation called for him to speak more. Although in retrospect he should have been speaking as much as the older male, perhaps more as children were usually the ones to speak their minds, and to speak non-stop.

[Deleted]

The boy had rested back on his hands for a few moments before he had given his short introduction. Lancelot had made his a bit more lengthy, as he did not want there to be any misunderstanding with the boy about who he was and where his loyalties might lay. It was clear to him that the boy, Mordred, had indeed traveled some distance, and with the expression on his face, and the nod from his head, he seemed to agree with Lancelot's point of view. His next words seemed to complete the agreement, as he explained exactly how far he had come, and did not appear to Lancelot to be making much effort to hold anything back from him. In fact, Lancelot thought, curiously, that the boy had little real fear of him in general.

It seemed, at least at first, that it was not fear that the boy exhibited, but a lack of sureness. He appeared to build up a certain confidence the more time that they spent in each others presence. Finally, Mordred seemed to build up enough confidence that Lancelot meant no harm to himself that he stood up and brushed himself off. It almost seemed that he sensed a slight smile on the young one's face, but he thought it might just be his imagination, however it was not accompanied by any speech.

However, almost immediately after he had introduced himself, almost as soon as he had said Merlin's name, the attitude of the young man had changed. "Yes .... likewise it is a pleasure to meet you as well. Emrys? Emrys? So .... is that the name you know Merlin by. That is interesting. I had never heard him referred as such. It is, strangely, a fitting name, almost as if I had always known it. He is my best friend in all of the world .... perhaps my only friend. He is as good as they come, I think you'll find." Quickly, though, Mordred focus had changed to another, one that Lancelot did not have a naturally high opinion of. He forced that aside, though, since he was Arthur's father and King of Camelot.

"Yes, yes, for the shortest of times I wads one of his knights. It was not even a full day, though. It is not strange or unusual that you dislike him. Many others do, and for good reason. However, even though I do not intend to defend him, one mustn't assume that he attacks magic for no good reason. I expect that he does have his reasons, and to him they probably make sense. That doesn't make what he has done right, but at least understandable. Yes .... yes .... I have heard of his crusades against your people, and I mourn with you in your loss," and Lancelot dipped his head in a slight bow in Mordred's direction.

Then suddenly Mordred seemed to go down another track. It was related to the subjects of himself and King Uther, but it was not in a direction that Lancelot had expected. "Why? .... My family and my entire village had been wiped out by some Northern Raiders. I had been raised to believe that Knights believed in a Code of Honor. This code not only directed them to serve nobles and monarchs, but those who were too weak and defenseless to defend themselves. This is where my dream to be a Knight came from."

Lancelot thought that he could ask this Mordred to tell him how he had come to be who he was, but he did not think that was very Knightly. Lancelot had the feeling that, at least in the short term, that the subjects that Mordred wanted to talk about had been exhausted. Lancelot figured this might be a good time to make bold with his side of the conversation. "Well, since you had all of the appearance of being lost, Mordred, when I came upon you, would you like some assistance in getting to a particular place or moving in a particular direction. As a former Knight, at least, I think it is my responsibility to see you safely on your way." He did wonder, though, if Mordred knew of Merlin's magic, and if he did, did he have some magical powers as well?

[mordred]

Carefully watching the older man, simply with a curiosity that had yet to be sated the boy pursed his lips and listened. It seemed to him as if Lancelot spoke quite often and that was perhaps his fault, as he had been the one to speak so little. Between the two, it was one who spoke too little, and one who spoke to clear the void of silence. To him it seemed like the man in front of him was also analyzing the moments they spent together. It was quite an interesting task to take in words, and then to see one's body language.

He knew that he was no longer afraid and was growing quite comfortable, and the fact that Lancelot spoke more and more made the Druid boy realize that it was obvious to the older man. Upon hearing that Lancelot found 'Emrys' as a suitable name for Merlin he gave a small nod. “I know Merlin as Emrys. Myrddin Emrys is his name amongst the Druids.” He stated calmly, ignoring the rest of his words about Merlin being a good man. He personally held things against the man, but wouldn't bring them up.

“He attacks those whom are innocent though. Magic is not good, nor bad. If he used it, it would certainly be for terror.” The child stated and glanced off to the side, knowing just what he meant about Lancelot's words. “I thank you kindly for your words.” He stated softly and bowed his head. The fact that he himself didn't mourn as much as he should have wasn't something he wanted to share. He knew that there had to be a death for every life in the world, and it eased his mind.

And upon hearing the man's words about how he wanted to be a knight from a young age, and the story behind it, he understood him a bit more. “Ah... So, you wanted to be able to help if that ever happened again, and to be able to fight for the innocent people who couldn't.” He mused and then his small smile grew into a grin. He felt like he could truly trust the older man and it eased him a bit, made him forget about any and all betrayal he felt from the citizens of camelot.

The next words he heard, made him think for a moment. Sure, he had been lost but it wasn't the end of it. He hadn't a place to stay any more. “...Well... Actually, I was trying to scout out another Druid Camp. So, I had no real way of finding one of them. There was a misunderstanding between... well, my people and the kingdom of Camelot. I know that some people died... I'm not certain about the rest of my group. We didn't have time to plan on where we would meet after, we just scattered about. I don't really have any place to go now. I've been doing fine on my own.” Mordred was curious about what would be the response to his words. Any sane man would doubt his words as he was just a child.

He knew that children were easily doubted, and that they were normally not to be left alone. His eyes narrowed in thought. “So... I don't really believe that I can allow you to accompany me, as pleasant as it would be. It would be more of a draw back then anything.” The boy stated finally.

[Deleted]

Lancelot thought the boy seemed to be quite the listener. With the nature of his life so far, Lancelot had not had the opportunity to be in the company of very many young people. Despite this lack of experience, it seemed to Lancelot that this one seemed quite reserved, not nearly as boisterous as one might expect. He wasn't sure whether it meant that there was a certain level of maturity or not, but he did seemed to be a more focused individual than he would have expected for his age .... a certain seriousness that he seemed to have.

Lancelot himself was not one who was naturally a talker, but he could engage himself if the situation demanded it. For most of his life, especially since his teenage years, had been spent traveling alone, but occasionally working as a fighting man in the service of others. Even when he was in a group of fellow soldiers he had a sense of being detached, willingly. His old carpentry master had said he had the talent of being alone even in the midst of a mob. He had always had this sense of calmness and an evenness of temper that had made him stand out.

He was definitely not one who would lose his head in the midst of battle, and that had undoubtedly contributed to his longevity and his reputation, as much as anything. It was only recently, though, that he had turned, once again, to being a true Knight. Of course that was a consequence of the admiration and loyalty that he felt for Arthur, as well as the friendship that he felt for Merlin. Although this Mordred spoke few words it was obvious that the person that Lancelot knew only as Merlin had another name as well .... this Emrys. Oh .... the Druids ...... that much made sense. He knew of Merlin's magic, of course, and the reputation of the Druids.

Lancelot found it strange, though, even with the sparse number of words that came from Mordred that he had little response about Merlin than his name. It seemed that he knew him, perhaps well, but he offered no more information nor had any questions about him. Lancelot couldn't put his finger on it exactly, but it felt somewhat odd to him. "Yes ..... yes I suppose he has. However, I think he sees everything in reference to the safety of his kingdom, and whether you and yours are perceived as a threat or not."

Lancelot paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He realized that his feelings about King Uther were complex, and often not easy to explain. "People like the King see the world only as black and white and don't take the time or effort to understand people and their reasons. It is clear, though, that he sees Magic as being evil. Although I don't think I would use it, I do not find it naturally good or evil. It may be though of as a tool, as a a sword is for a soldier, but infinitely more dangerous. In the wrong hands, I expect it can be corrupting, though, I would expect. It all depends on who wields it and why."

At least the boy .... or the young man was it .... had a courtesy about him as well as a calmness. "You are quite welcome, young master. You can rest assured that I rarely use such words unless they come from the heart, and that I mean them." Lancelot appreciated the thanks that Mordred had given him for his small act of kindness. However, when Lancelot realized that was as much as the young man was going to say, he made note of how his new acquaintance had such of a matter-of-fact nature that he wondered just how ruthless he could be to protect those things that were important to him.

He wondered, given Mordred's apparent nature and personality, how he would react to Lancelot's abbreviated live story. He seemed to project a feeling of understanding, but not of sympathy. It caused Lancelot to wonder exactly how sympathetic Mordred might be to the plight of others. Ironically, he found this lack of sympathy to be something that Mordred shared curiously with Uther himself. Perhaps the boy sensed Lancelot's thoughts, as his small smile became a broad one as the boy had quite correctly determined what Lancelot's mission was.

Ironically, Lancelot had very little belief in himself. For a time, he had lost that belief and the mission and passion that he had first come to Camelot with. However, Gwen had restored that mission at Hengist's castle. Sir Lancelot needed a cause to fight for and to sacrifice himself to. He could fight with a scary serenity, but it was for the world that Arthur would create, and not for any personal ambition of Lancelot. He wondered whether Mordred understood that fully, or just the part of it that involved Mordred. whatever the boy believed, it was obvious that his trust in the young Knight was growing.

"Yes, well that would make sense. However, are you searching t just for yourself, or for the larger group," he asked. "So ..... a misunderstanding you say. Hmmmm ..... I don't expect that Uther saw it that way did he. He just saw an obstacle that needed to be overcome. Again ..... I must offer you my respects at the losses you have borne. Yes ..... I would have expected that you are quite self-reliant," he said with the smallest of smiles on his face. It did not surprise him that Uther would have given such orders, and that Arthur, although with a great deal of agreement, would have carried out his instructions.

"That of course would be your decision. Your stature may be that of a child, but you heart, and your spirit, and your soul would seem to indicate much more maturity. I hope that with your obvious experience that you have the wisdom to accompany it. I would never try to force myself upon you, but exactly what are the drawbacks you speak so directly of ..... if you don't mind explaining yourself," he said with a raised and questioning eyebrow.

[mordred]

Mordred had observed the older male intently with just the few short interactions they'd had. He'd realised that the man before him was different then most people. He was perhaps kinder with some sort of wisdom hidden, and perhaps was too kind for his own good. With people that were kind came the ones that were foolish. Most people were selfish, greedy and wanted nothing more then to satisfy their own primal desires. Even if he himself, hadn't been as most children his age, he was certain that it wasn't normal for a man to be travelling alone. He knew that he himself preferred travelling in groups, for loneliness could drive a man insane.

Finding himself to actually be curious about the older male, the child glanced back and forth. There were many questions running through his head about why the older male had been travelling alone, as it was quite obvious that the man had been travelling for some time. Lancelot reminded the young child of a hermit, quiet, yet friendly. And destined for solitude.

Keeping calm, Mordred had to keep himself in check, not wanting to give out too much information at once. It was to talk that made him uncomfortable. For the fact it wasn't how he normally communicated when he was with the people he called his family. He had a few dreams for the future himself, but he didn't even know where to start with them. Where ever he went, there was always a threat of danger due to his very existence. Due to the fact that he had magic he would be branded as something evil, something that would be burned at the stake. Just one look and one would be able to tell he was a Druid. The pendant around his neck had runes, the language of magic, and he had the threefold, a symbol with a triple spiral on his chest. Still, he had to keep calm and not rush to conclusions.

With his limited number of words spoken, it was not much of a reaction that had been issued on the topic about Merlin. Mordred listened however as Lancelot spoke of how Uther thought it was in reference to the safety of his kingdom, whether or not he and his people were truly perceived as a threat or not. That however made little sense to him in that instance. With being unable to see the reasoning behind it, he couldn't even begin to understand what the older male was even talking about in that case.

Listening carefully to the other male as he explained about Uther, it was something that suddenly clicked to him. "Well, I essentially said the same thing about it not being good or evil. I don't really understand his reasoning though, for the Druids are naturally peaceful. I think it's more of a fact that he just doesn't want there to be people other then those who follow his laws and religion." The child mused, and as he thought more about it, it made Mordred's blood boil. "He hunts us down even outside of Camelot." He murmured and then calmed himself again. It wasn't worth loosing control when the man in front of him was not causing him harm.

Curious as to why he was called young master, as if he were something special, some nobleman, Mordred hadn't any real interest in questioning that bit. He didn't normally speak, especially aloud but something was just drawing him out and seemingly begged him to speak more. "I see. ...Are you a hermit of some sort? You act like one... You act wiser then most too..." Mordred mused, and it was true. Most men he'd known while wise with experience were also at the very same time naive and had some sort of ignorance. They also tended to be rash with their choices and decisions.

It was perhaps very odd of him to have asked such a question, but one could never be certain. He knew that Lancelot worked as a soldier for hire, but that didn't necessarily mean that it was impossible for his question to be meaningless. He was curious about so much in the world and the way things worked, as well as a few facts that while he didn't show his feelings outright in most cases, he was understanding in most cases. He was at times like a child lost in the dark, uncertain of which way to go. At other times, he didn't want to face others. Especially when it came to the topic of magic and the old religion.

He recalled the first time he'd gone into Camelot. He'd gone with his master, his almost fatherly figure to just get supplies, and then it had turned into a hunt between him and Cerdan as the prey and the guards of Camelot as the hunters. He recalled having run away, injured. Unsure of what Cerdan was doing. When he was later helped by Merlin and Morgana, it had helped him immensely. Then the escape had been harder then expected. He'd nearly been executed. For that he owed thanks to Arthur Pendragon and to Merlin, although Merlin had already exhausted that, as had his company of the crowned prince. He knew vaguely of a prophecy that involved him and so many others, although he didn't want to follow it, he didn't want his life to be governed by a story, a myth, a guess for what was to come when Arthur would become king. All he knew at the moment was that he had complete and utter trust in Lancelot.

"I'm... I am searching for the larger group, for there is safety in numbers. Although I'm just going where the wind takes me." The boy stated and the response he'd received about the misunderstanding was somewhat a comforting sign. "It was a misunderstanding. He may have seen it a different way, but it's not the most admirable thing to do, sending a group of armed soldiers after a group that is unsuspecting... I accept your offer, and I appreciate it." He noticed the smile on Lancelot's face and then raised an eyebrow. He didn't understand why it was anything to smile about, be it small or not. He understood that the other male did not deny his self-reliance but the smile was not something he'd expected to see.

"Being a child, I am bound to be slower, and thus it would take more time for a journey... And I'm in general smaller. I'd be the more likely target for attack, and you'd probably feel compelled to protect me, although I don't need it. I am a Druid for a reason. I have magic, so I can protect my self, when needed." Mordred explained as he was responded to with curiosity about how he'd worded his earlier comment about being a drawback to have along as company.

[Deleted]

Lancelot did wonder, at least a little, about what this young man, a Druid, thought of him. He was sure that when most people saw him the first time that they thought of him as a young boy. It was only with time that most would recognize that it was an older soul that they were dealing with. He had caught this Mordred giving him strange looks several times, as if he were trying to figure Lancelot out. He was not the first one, Lancelot smiled to himself, nor likely to be the last. He supposed that there was something to the old saying that there was safety in numbers, but unless it Arthur and the Knights of Camelot, he wasn't all that comfortable with placing his life in the hands of others.

Lancelot suddenly got the strangest feeling that the young Mordred wanted to say or ask him something, but just couldn't get it out, whatever it was. It almost seemed like he could feel the young man's mind go into motion. Often, Lancelot seemed to remember,that the young had many questions, for there was much about the world that was unknown and a mystery to them,and they needed to have answers. But why wouldn't he ask the questions, Lancelot wondered.

Finally, though, it seemed that Mordred was preparing himself to ask ..... something. He seemed to be making a concerted effort to keep a stone-like appearance to his face. The boy was so difficult to figure out, Lancelot thought to himself. It was as if he feared showing any emotions or feelings, as if he had to keep his real intentions hidden at all times. It was an attitude, Lancelot considered, that did not encourage trust in others. He was doing his best to keep an open mind, though. There was no telling what experiences the young man had been through that made him so much more guarded than the average person. However, he considered, he was a Druid, and given King Uther's views on magic and the Druid it was no wonder there was a lot of natural fear. It was a fortunate thing, perhaps, in Lancelot's experiences with Merlin, that he had no natural fear for magic in general or the Druids in particular.

It was obvious to Lancelot that it was not likely that the boy was going to initiate much conversation, at least not willingly. Lancelot had taken it upon himself, already, to speak a few words about Uther and magic, as well as Merlin. Unfortunately, Lancelot thought, he could see no hint of recognition in the boy's eyes that he had a grasp of what Lancelot was trying to say. Rather than waste his or the boy's time ny further, he refrained from trying to explain why the King had acted as he had.

Just as he had about given up hope of getting any kind of favorable response from the boy, suddenly, he found that something that he had said had garnered a response. "Mordred, if a person really has no understanding of what magic is or what magic could be used for, both good and bad, they are going to think that the very worst that is possible is the most likely event. People like Uther, and others, will only look at the worst things that are possible, and not the possibilities for good. I'm afraid the King acts as though he had a bad experience with magic in the distant past, and has never forgiven the practice since." he surmised. "Yes .... he fears the unknown ..... both your practices and your existence as a people."

Lancelot noticed now that the boy had a questioning look in his eyes, as if there was something he wanted to understand, but was just outside his powers of reason right now. "A hermit? .... my .... that is a curious question or maybe even a statement," he mused. "Yes ..... I suppose I am. Even though I am not an official night, I am like a nomadic soldier, who tries to act in a knightly way, as he wanders from place to place. However, one must eat, so there are times when I have to look past the knightly code and do what iis necessary to survive. As far as wisdom goes, even with one as young as myself, I have experienced many things and I suppose that is where what little wisdom I possess comes from."

Lancelot did not find the question about what exactly he was to be that much of a strange one. He thought that it was not common to see a lone man wandering these woodlands with no one along for support or company. Yes, the question was a rational one. It did not appear that the young man feared him .... indeed, his curiosity seemed to indicate a small kernel of trust existed there, and Lancelot hadn't the foggiest notion of why. Then, suddenly, it was as if a dam had broke, and the boy Mordred seemed to release some facts about where he thought he belonged and who he sought out.

That made sense, once he heard it. People did tend to gravitate toward the larger groups, for safety. He was seeking out a particular group of people, but still relied on nature to direct him... Interesting. Yes, he accepted that Uther might have looked at it differently, but he doesn't see how Uther could have seen it the way he did. He wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but Mordred could really not see it as anything but an attack of aggression. He was reasonable enough to accept his ... Lancelot's .... condolences. Lancelot's smile was out of the surprise that one so young could take care of himself so well.

"Take my word for it .... being a child or looking child-like has not slowed you down much. I expect that you are well able to take of yourself, and our slower movement should allow us the scout the territory ahead of us quite easily and quite well. I think your abilities with magic would greatly outweigh and drawbacks of speed that you may have. I have seen how magic can work its way, especially trough the one that you have referred to as Emrys. I have no doubt that when he separate, perhaps tomorrow, that we will find that our paths will cross again."