No Other Choice

[Arthur Pendragon]

Today was rather good weather for what Arthur had set out to do. Mordred was still very much a new knight of Camelot, as he had only been one for a short while. So today, he was patrolling with the newest addition to Camelot's army. He was unsure how familiar Mordred was with the woods, so was taking the opportunity to show him around them. It was imperative for a knight to know the Darkling Woods extremely well for tracking purposes, as well as when it came to surveying the area to make sure all was well. Mordred held great promise and Arthur wanted to help him achieve this greatness as best he could. He knew that Mordred would be one of his best knights; he was committed, dedicated to learning all he could, enthusiastic, honorable, brave, loyal . . . and so many other qualities and showed the makings of a strong and exceptional knight and warrior.

"So how well do you know these woods Mordred?" Arthur asked. He knew little of Mordred's past and childhood, since the last time he had seen him prior to his and Merlin's recent capture by Mordred and his men, was when he was a young boy, held prisoner in Camelot's dungeons. How different things were now. He was a knight, sworn to uphold the laws of Camelot rather than being found guilty of them. It had been his father's ruling however, and Arthur disagreement of it had been what motivated him to break that particular law and return Mordred to the druids. So how had he strayed from his people? Arthur knew he could not ask too much, for it was Mordred's choice to tell him as much as he liked. What mattered now, was that Mordred was part of the brotherhood. And no matter what happened in his past, Arthur now regarded the young man as no less than a brother, and he doubted anything could happen to change that.

_{Setting: In the surrounding woods of Camelot
Time of Day: Morning
Timeline: Sometime after Mordred was knighted
What If: Mordred revealed his magic to Arthur
Tag: Mordred}

[mordred]

There were times when Mordred could hardly believe his change in fate. The dreams had all but disappeared, and at last, he finally felt as though he might belong somewhere. It seemed that Merlin still had reservations, but the druid prayed feverently that those reservations would one day change. He truly wanted to be friends with the warlock - and not just because Merlin was another magic user. No, he wanted to get to know the remarkable young man to whom Arthur owed so much, whether the King knew it or not.

Glancing at the King who walked to the side of him, Mordred felt a familiar twisting in his gut. Guilt... neverending guilt. His place was by Arthur's side, of that the young man was certain, and yet... and yet he was hiding from the King. It was times like this when the druid missed the company of those he had once known; the other druids would have talked with him, calmed his fears... but then, they would have encouraged the dreams, intoned masses regarding his supposed fate, and encouraged any thought of betrayal.

Mordred was snapped out of his thoughts by the King's casual questioning, and paused a moment, before speaking, his voice low and respectful. "Very little, my Lord," he confessed quietly. "I travelled through them once as a young boy..." escaping from Camelot... he thought but did not say, "but I confess I have very little memory of them, I am afraid."