A Bond of Brothers

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur made his way onto the training field, clad in his appropriate attire for the occasion. With all that was happening in Camelot, he'd not had the opportunity to do this . . . and it was something he placed great importance to. With their newest addition to the Camelot army, Arthur wanted to spend this time with Mordred to help speeden his training. But not only that, he wished to get to know the young knight. After not having seen him for so many years, and really not knowing a great deal about him . . . Arthur knew that training would be the perfect chance to rectify this. He had knighted him based on his heroic actions; ones that clearly displayed that he too was a man of strong character and strength of heart. One who deserved to be part of an army filled with men like this. Of course there were a select few that Arthur was particularly fond of, and now, Mordred would be among them.

That was the personal aspect of the training session. The more political side of it was that he had no idea what Mordred's skills with a sword were -- or even if he had any. He trained his men vigorously for it was imperative that they possess strong skills in combat. And he wished to ensure that Mordred was able to meet these standards so that he could properly defend himself in battle. He had proved his strength in character now it was able his strength in swordsmanship. So this early morning was to be focused on the young knight. On getting him up to speed, on seeing what he had to offer as a warrior, not just a brother in arms. While Arthur knew the controversy surrounding this, he did not let it influence his decision. Despite what some of the more traditional councilmen said, and despite . . . what his own father said. There were certain choices that Arthur made that he would forever stand by, and this was one of them. This, along with the existence of the round table and along with marrying Guinevère.

He had his moment of doubt, but in the end . . . he did not let it cloud his judgment. He had done so for far too long and even while he had tried to do much to bring peace and prosperity to the kingdom, for the first time in his life, he felt like a strong and confident leader. He had always admired his father, yet now he knew how radically different he was from him. And for once, he saw this as a strength, not a weakness. His father ruled in solitude, with people fearing his every word. Arthur ruled surrounded by people he loved and who he knew loved him. That, was what made him stronger and a better king. So no. He would never believe that what he did was wrong. He knew in his heart it was right. And it was time that he became his own man, rather than try and wonder what his father would think. He knew Uther's thoughts of him, and they were no longer relevant. Arthur forced these thoughts out of his mind, not wanting any distractions. This morning was about Mordred . . . not about Arthur's own troubles. So he stood, a sword in hand, awaiting his newest student.

_{Setting: The training field
Time of Day: Early morning
Timeline: After The Death Song of Uther Pendragon
Tag: Sir Mordred}

[mordred]

As Mordred stepped out onto the training field, he had to admit... he was a little nervous. Arthur Pendragon had been whispered about in lands far beyond Camelot's reach; his fighting skills had been lusted after and feared. And now, he, Mordred, was to be trained by the greatest fighter Camelot had to offer. If he were honest, he was terrified. But a smaller, secret part of him, was also ecstatic. In saving Arthur, he had only meant to repay the kindness that the then-Prince had once done to him, but now, a whole new destiny seemed to be taking shape for him. A destiny which, apparently, had him at Arthur's side, instead of against him.

The new clothing - the chainmail and such - still felt strange to Mordred, who was used to wearing more... moveable... material. Though there was a certain clunkiness to the metal, there was a sense of protection there also, a sense of... belonging. A strange feeling, after being cast out for so long. But one that Mordred was slowly, slowly beginning to like.

The druid teenager stepped forward, his hand on the pommel of his sword as he took a slow breath in the cool air, his blue eyes moving to where the King stood, in chain mail. Mordred trembled a little, but quickly pushed whatever fear he felt back, knowing he could not let it ovecome him. He had been trained in magic since he had been able to talk, but this... this was a whole new area for the Knight. The brunette moved forward slowly, taking the time to calm his heart and mind, knowing he would need both to proove himself to the King.

As he reached Arthur, the druid stopped a few foosteps away from the King, and knelt before him, his head slightly bowed. "My King, thankyou for doing me the great honour of being my trainer in such an important task as this. It humbles me that you would spend such time when you must already be so busy with one such as I, merely a nobody."

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur watched Mordred as he approached him, and the proceeded to kneel down before him and speak words that filled Arthur with sch honor. Ironically, for while it was Mordred who spoke of feeling honored, Arthur shared that feeling. To him, it was important to earn loyalty and respect from the people and his friends . . . and to know that he had earned Mordred's, meant a great deal to the young king. Arthur dug the tip of his sword into the ground so that it stood on its own. He then put each of his hands on Mordred's shoulders to help him rise to his feet. "That's not necessary Mordred," he told him in a calm, almost casual voice. It held no authority for to him, Mordred was nothing less than a friend.

"It is I who have the honor to call you friend. And with that title, I hope you find ease in calling me by my first name. For here, there is no rank, no title, no status." They were alone, in a training session. There was no need for formality. Besides, he wanted Mordred to feel comfortable in his presence. The other knights, those he was closest to, only referred to Arthur by title in public. But when they were on a mission, patrolling, or a place where it was just them . . . he often encouraged a more relaxed and casual environment. "And so let me give you the first lesson. Never refer to yourself as a nobody. You are a somebody. And I never want you to feel insignificant for it is men like you who define the term honor." And if Arthur thought differently, he never would have knighted Mordred. But he had a good feeling about him. A great feeling in fact. One that assured Arthur that he and Mordred would be good friends. Brothers of heart even.

[mordred]

As the King helped him to rise to his feet, speaking of necessity, Mordred's lips curled into a soft smile, something that was still somewhat foreign to him. Lightness of heart he had not expected, but here, in Camelot, he was beginning to feel as though he could belong. Arthur's words only prooved the point. He bowed his head in brief respect and acknowledgement, before raising his eyes to meet the King's. "Your words are more than I deserve, sire," he spoke softly. "But I thank you for them, nonetheless. I have done nothing to deserve your friendship, and yet you have knighted me and now further honour me by calling me friend. It is more than I deserve, sire."

Whether he would ever be comfortable calling Arthur by his first name, Mordred was unsure; the King was still royalty, and of course he held the druid's deepest respect. It almost seemed wrong to discard that by discarding the man's title. But perhaps to discard the King's words was wronger yet. A slight smile flittered across Mordred's lips once again, and he inclined his head to the King. "As you wish, Arthur," he said quietly, still smiling a little. He paused as he listened to the man's advice, and was barely able to stop himself from wondering just how far from his father's thoughts the King's own mind lay - for these were not the rules of Uther Pendragon.... perhaps Arthur was, as the druids had predicted, truly changing Camelot for the better.

"In the minds of some, a regnade druid would be considered a nobody, my Lord," He said softly, not quite arguing with Arthur, but simply making a point. He paused briefly. "Forgive me if I speak out of turn...."

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur continued to smile at Mordred as he spoke words of great modesty. All the more of a fitting trait for a knight to possess. It was qualities like these and so much more than assured Arthur that Mordred would in fact be one of the best knights Camelot's army has ever seen. And he would be proud to be the one to help Mordred on this journey. "You have done a great deal Mordred," he told him, not wanting him to think otherwise, but knew that such a humble young man as himself would not easily give in to Arthur's praise.

"You saved my life, twice," he reminded. He knew it can't have been easy to save him by stabbing Morgana, after all, Mordred and Morgana had a bond that was once strong. Yet it seemed that all the bonds she held with others had been severed by her own doing. Arthur's smile remained as Mordred addressed him by his first name. He knew the informality would not last, but still hoped that eventually, it would become habit for Mordred to speak so casually with him. "There is nothing to forgive. I encourage you to speak to me plainly and with open honesty. If ever should you have a disagreement or something troubling you, never hesitate to bring it to me."

For what was a king if he not approachable. That was what Arthur wanted to be; someone who the people felt they could come to if they were troubled or in need of help. It was what a king's responsibility was: to the people, to the kingdom. "While that may be true, it is not how you are perceived here," Arthur told him in regards to his statement of still being seen as a nobody by some. "For here, a man is judged by his actions and strength of heart. Not by his title and the blood that runs through his veins. So know that here, you are a hero and will be treated as such." He had saved his life, and that was not something Arthur would soon forget.

[mordred]

"Your life was worth the saving, my Lord." Mordred gently reminded. "Morgana has... become something which I find abhorrent. Her world has been cast into darkness; and it has been her own doing. Yet all she can see is the destruction of others. And thank-you; I find it strange to speak my mind, but I will do my best. Please feel that the offer goes both ways. "I'm afraid I have little faith in heroes, sire. I find them to be rather callous folk." He gave a slight smile, as though to prove he was almost joking; though in fact he was being serious.