Acceptance (open)

[Mordred]

Camelot's newest knight wondered happily through the market, exploring the city. He had been here a few times before, but for once he was free to look around as opposed to being forced to hide or flee. These buildings and stalls had once been looked upon by fear, but now they were welcoming. The people offered him respect. How time could change things. Mordred was no longer something to be hunted, although no doubt that would change if anyone realized he was a druid and therefore had magic. It was good to feel accepted and to not be scared after so long.

He grinned at a shopkeeper, tossing the old man a coin and in return received a large apple which he bit into as he slowly walked along the street. Life was good. He had no doubt that this was what he was meant to be doing; working with a group of the best people he had ever met to protect the kingdom and help Arthur to rule. Already he could call many of the other knights his friends. Merlin was the only one here who seemed to have a problem with him, something he could not fully understand but was too happy at the present moment to be bothered by.

Mordred's red cloak billowed out as he turned a corner into a breeze, glad to feel the cool air. It was a warm day, and the chain mail he wore was not helping with that. He could probably take it off, since he had only been wearing it for training earlier, but he liked wearing it. The novelty of being a knight had yet to wear off, so for now he was taking every opportunity to explore everything a knight could do; patrols, hunting, and even just wearing the uniform. Right now there was nothing he needed to do, so he was simply finding his way around the city, making sure the citizens were all right and trying to learn his way around better. He had gotten lost a few days ago, an embarrassing incident he did not want repeated. As such, he was paying close attention to where he was walking and the names of the streets.

Setting: The streets of Camelot
Time of day: Midday
Time in series: Some time in series 5

[Guinevère]

"Sir Mordred." Guinevère's called softly but clearly, to the knight as she approached him. Her arms filled with a small basket that held some still warm bread, and soup. She was taking it to an elder woman in the lower towns that had was ill. The woman, Mora, had been kind to Guinevère in her youth. Taught her to sew even, which was a skill she used many times in her life. While it was not a skill needed for a queen, Guinevère still loved it, and found herself making more causal things rather then having to do it to make a living.

"My escort has become distracted." She teased, looking over her shoulder at one of the knights who was half watching her and half trying to help a vendor catch his loose chickens, after they had run a cart off the road. Guinevère wanted to help, but she also wanted the meal to be warm when it arrived to Mora. "Can you walk with me instead?" She asked with a amused smile at the slight chaos the poor knight was stuck with. "I fear he might have his hands full for quite a bit with this." Another playful tease. Guinevère was a naturally happy woman, and she often saw that in Mordred sometimes. She had worried for the young man when he was recently injured, and was hoping to use this time to also check with him on how he was fairing now.

[Mordred]

Mordred turned around sharply at the sound of his name, the recent addition of 'sir' still exciting to hear. He gave a broad smile to see Guinevère. The queen was exceptionally kind, unlike many royal snobs he had come across before. Most likely it stemmed from her background, but she genuinely cared about the people of Camelot, a quality so many nobles lacked. He looked behind her at the startled chickens running unpredictably about while another knight struggled to get the situation under control, and gave a short, soft laugh. He just about recognized the other man, and knew that he would be teased about this incident for days.

"I'd be happy to accompany you," he replied to her request. Her company made him feel at ease somehow, relaxed and happy. It was her optimism, bubbliness and all-round lovely personality that seemed to radiate out and spread to other people. Gwen was the sort of person who was very difficult to dislike, whatever faults you managed to see. Mordred was trying to avoid people such as those he spent his time around before, the thieves and bandits, who were always troubled and full of contagious hate. They had driven him to do things he hated himself for, and with worrying ease. It was as if he had been given a second chance, finding himself here on the other side, the good side. "What's in the basket?" he asked curiously. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious.

[Guinevère]

When he agreed she smiled brightly up at him for a moment, and then nodded her head, and turned to let them begin walking. His next question kept her smile in place, though her worry for her friend caused it to fade just a little. It was not a deep illness that caused the elder woman to need soup, but with age there was always risks. "When I was just a girl, I lived in this town. I still have a home not far from this street. There was an woman who was very kind to me, and taught me many skills since my own mother died long before we moved here."

"She has grown slightly ill, and I am bringing her some warm soup, to help make her feel better." It wasn't something a queen should do, but it was something a friend should do. Guinevère was a friend first to this woman, before she was a queen. "And I can now used this wall to also make sure another is feeling well." She hinted, "How are you recovering, dear Mordred? You had us all worried for a while. Arthur especially. He was very glad to see you recovering, and doing better."

[Mordred]

Few people of royalty would be seen looking after the common people, regardless of the condition of those people or how much the royal liked them. Mordred felt lucky to have Gwen as a queen. Some of the alternatives he had seen on their way to Camelot on the request of Uther had been... well, very different. Completely disregarding what her position dictated she should do in order to come to the aid of someone who really needed it was such a Gwen thing to do. "That's very kind of you. I hope your friend gets better soon," Mordred expressed his sympathy for the old lady.

Now she was asking after him. The Disir had very near killed him, and in fact he had been certain he was going to die. The pain had been unlike any other he had experienced; he felt it sharply enough, but somehow it felt as though it was not meant for him. He had heard vague whispers, too. It was as though death had been near but his condition had been frozen in time, as though he was on probation to see whether he deserved to die or not. It also seemed to him that his condition had not been his punishment, but someone else's. He had been in a confused frame of mind, however, and assumed it was probably the magical nature of the wound accompanied by his delirious mind, sluggish with pain, that had made up those things. The strangely fast recovery, however, was still unexplained.

"I'm feeling a lot better, thank you. The wound still throbs every now and then, and it can make me feel tired sometimes, but at least I'm alive. I don't know what we'd do without Gaius," he smiled. The physician was always so friendly and welcoming. The lives that man had saved were countless. It was touching to know that Arthur had been worried out him, too, as he held the king in such high regard. Knowing he could trust him and knowing he could call him a friend shot feelings of warm happiness through him, finding sheer joy in the fact that King Arthur himself valued his life and would go so far to try and save him. True friendship was hard to come by when you lived a life travelling with different people every month. "It's strange how quick my recovery was. I thought I was on death's door. It should have taken weeks to recover, yet I managed it in a day. Whatever it was Arthur did when he visited the Disir, it worked,"

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[Guinevère]

"Thank you, I hold the same hopes." She told him when he spoke of her friend, knowing that age could play a factor in how easy one did recover. Though Guinevère had asked Gaius to personally look in on her friend. The advantage of being friends with the best doctor in the kingdom was being able to ask this favor of him. She never asked as queen, but as friend, so Gaius would always be able to say no--though he never once did.

"Arthur speaks very highly of you, Sir Mordred," Guinevère went on to say when Mordred had said that he was grateful for Arthur saving his life, "And while I know his friendship with you spurred his actions, I also know he would have done the same for any of his men." Still, Arthur favored Mordred more then his others at times.

"You know I see a lot of Arthur in you at time." She teased, "None of his arrogance, but his heart. I think he see's it too." Mordred did not see evil in people, and Arthur did not either. Even after all these years, and so many wrongs done to him, he still wanted to see the best in everyone. "I hear good things about your training as well."

[Mordred]

Mordred was pleased to hear that Arthur spoke highly of him. The king treated all hid men well and as equals, but it was good to know that this wasn't just for show and was genuine. He got along well with Arthur and spoke highly of him in return, always prepared to defend him should someone question his suitability as king. Hope was an important thing to have, and with Arthur as king there was plenty of that around. He was far more just and fair than Uther had been, and many even hoped he would change his mind about magic some day. Mordred did not want to get his hopes up for something like that, but at least the kingdom was safe and the majority of its people were cared for.


Mordred was surprised to hear that Gwen saw Arthur's heart in him. He had never really thought about that, but it was an honour to hear such a compliment. He grinned. "Thank you," he told the queen, "Arthur's a great teacher. He knows how to bring out the best in people, be that through teasing, stern words or a more gentle approach. I swear he could even make a knight of Merlin," he said. There had been a great improvement in his combat abilities thanks to Arthur, who would slowly fight harder against him in sparring matches in order to keep stretching him. He had seen him treat others in very different ways, some making fun of until they improved, others he praised and encouraged. Always he would congratulate his knights if they did well, and was on friendly terms with most of them. If he was mean to someone, it would either be jokingly or to try and make them improve.

"And what of you? Being queen must be very different to your life before. How have you adapted?" he asked, knowing it couldn't be easy to have everyone expecting you to be some regal and noble figure all the time without a break.