A/N: This was a prompt from Parimalik. Here's to you, Parimalik.

IDOM

It was a cloudy day as Mordred patrolled through the woods with Arthur, Emrys and the knights of the Round Table. Mordred hoped it wasn't going to rain—they were well outside Camelot, and wet armor would be especially miserable.

Arthur and Emrys were bickering, as usual. "It's just clouds, Merlin, don't be such a girl's petticoat."

"If it rains and your armor rusts, I'm the one who's going to have to clean it," Emrys shot back. "I work very hard to keep your armor rust-free, I don't want the rain messing up all my hard work."

"Hard work? You?" Arthur scoffed. He looked over his shoulder at the other knights. "Has anyone here ever actually seen Merlin work hard?"

"E—Merlin is the only servant among six knights, I think it's admirable that he manages to look after us all," Mordred defended.

"That's because you always insist on helping him," Leon jibed. "It's more like having two servants and five knights."

"Hey!" Mordred protested. "I worked hard to earn my knighthood!"

"You stabbed a woman in the back," Percival pointed out.

"I prevented a high priestess from killing our king!" Mordred corrected. "And I didn't learn sword fighting overnight!"

"We still had to teach you how to use a mace and axe," Elyan countered.

"It's not like we normally bring those on patrol," Mordred grumbled. "I could already fight just fine with a sword when I was knighted." He winced as a big, heavy droplet landed on his nose.

"Looks like Merlin was right about that rain," Gwaine commented.

"We keep riding!" Arthur called. "We should still be able to make it back to Camelot before sunset."

An hour later, Arthur was forced to concede that they needed shelter from the downpour. It was raining so hard that Mordred could barely see the other knights.

Soon, they found a cave. Emrys and Mordred secured the horses while the other knights trooped into the cave. When the two secret sorcerers finally followed, they found Gwaine complaining. "What I wouldn't give for a nice, warm fire right about now."

"You want to look for dry firewood, be my guest," Emrys replied.

"I vote Mordred looks for it," Elyan suggested.

Percival leaned over to put an arm around Mordred. "Absolutely not, do you want the little scrap to drown?"

Mordred pulled away. "I am not a 'little scrap'," he grumbled.

"Yes you are," Arthur countered. "We couldn't possibly send you out alone, you could get eaten by wolves. Or crushed by a tree. Or kidnapped by bandits. Or—"

"I'm not helpless!" Mordred exclaimed in frustration. "Just watch me, I'm going to go find some firewood! And I will not be eaten by wolves, crushed by a tree or kidnapped!" Percival and Leon followed Mordred to the cave entrance. "And I'm going alone! I don't need an escort! Am I a knight or am I some sort of hostage?!"

"Sit down, guys, Mordred can take care of himself," Emrys said.

"Thank you!" With that, Mordred stormed out of the cave.

Plenty of branches had fallen down in the storm, but as Emrys had said, they were all wet. Mordred ventured further from the cave, hoping to find a tree with some leafy overhang that had protected whatever had fallen underneath. After nearly ten minutes, he found one. He set about gathering various branches from under the tree, but a loud crack of thunder startled him into dropping them all.

Thunder. Oh no.

Once when he was a small child, Mordred had been caught outside the camp when a thunderstorm started. Foolishly, he had climbed a tree in order to shelter in its branches. Lightning had struck the tree, and Mordred had just barely managed to get out before the entire tree became enveloped in flames. He had been covered in burns from where he'd touched the scalding-hot tree. Ever since then, he had been terrified of thunderstorms. It wasn't so bad in the castle—he had plenty of thick stone between him and the storm then—but this wasn't the castle. He was outdoors, right by another tree. He ran.

Unfortunately, in his blind panic, Mordred couldn't even remember which way he'd come from. He was beginning to despair of ever finding any shelter—let alone the cave containing Emrys and the other knights—when he heard a horse whinny. Immensely relieved, he made his way toward the sound. Finally, he burst back into the cave.

"I thought you were getting dry firewood?" Arthur said, a teasing glint in his eyes.

"There isn't any," Mordred snapped, not wanting to admit his fears. He didn't need further coddling. "Have you seen the rain out there? Everything is soaked to the bone."

Emrys raised his eyebrows. "I wasn't aware that firewood has bones."

"You know what I mean!" Mordred retorted. "Guess we'll just have to make do without. We're knights, we can handle the cold."

"Ah, but what about poor Merlin?" Arthur countered. "He's not a knight, he'll freeze."

Emrys shifted closer to Arthur, smirking. "Well, if you're so concerned about my well-being, we could share body heat…"

Arthur quickly pulled away and sat on the other side of the cave. "Absolutely not. There will be no sharing of body heat."

"But I thought you didn't want me to freeze!" Emrys protested, the picture of innocence.

There was another loud clap of thunder. Mordred jumped violently.

"Sit with Mordred," Leon suggested. "He looks pale, perhaps you can warm each other up."

Mordred quickly sat next to Emrys, seeking comfort in the older sorcerer's presence. "Great idea. I'm chilled to the bone."

"Sure you have bones?" Emrys teased.

"I'm not a tree, so yes, I'm sure I have bones," Mordred retorted. He hunched in on himself, shivering. There was no fire. He was not on fire. Thunder crashed, and he jumped again.

"Mordred, are you shaking?" Emrys demanded quietly, sounding surprised.

"No," Mordred replied, unconvincingly.

"You are!" Emrys laughed. "Don't tell me you're scared of a little thunder?"

"I'm cold," Mordred insisted. "Soaking wet, remember?"

"You don't have goosebumps," Emrys noted. There was another crash of thunder, and Mordred jumped in spite of himself. "You can't tell me that wasn't a reaction to the thunder."

"I don't like thunder, okay?" Mordred grumbled. "It's not something I can fight."

"It's not going to hurt you either," Emrys pointed out. "We're in a cave. Forget the falling trees, our ickle little Mordred is going to be flattened by loud sounds!"

"Or burned by a tree," Mordred muttered. He started wringing his hands, as he often did during thunderstorms.

Emrys looked down at Mordred's hands, then back up at his face. His humor faded. "Did that actually happen to you?"

"Yes," Mordred mumbled, staring determinedly at the ground. "Please don't tell the others. They already treat me like a baby." More thunder, and Mordred instinctively pressed close to Emrys.

"Because that's what we do, we poke fun at each other," Emrys said seriously. "They don't think you're helpless. And they'll be a lot more likely to keep making fun of you if they don't realize you have a valid reason to be scared of thunder." He raised his voice. "Arthur. I think Mordred needs some knightly advice on facing your fears."

"Why, what's the matter?" Arthur asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Emrys nudged Mordred. "Go on. They're your friends."

"I hate thunder," Mordred mumbled.

"Sorry, what was that?" Gwaine asked amiably.

"I hate thunder," Mordred said more loudly. "When I was little, I made the mistake of climbing a tree during a thunderstorm and I was nearly burnt alive. So now I hate thunderstorms."

"That's terrible," Percival said sincerely. "I think I'd hate thunder too if that had happened to me."

"You survived, didn't you?" Leon encouraged. "The thunderstorm tried to kill you, but you beat it."

"You're alive," Elyan added. "You won."

"Every time you hear thunder, you tell yourself you've won another victory over Mother Nature," Gwaine suggested.

"You were out in that thunderstorm for nearly half an hour, remember?" Arthur pointed out. "And here you are, a little soggy but not on fire and certainly not dying. If that thunder's out to get you, it's doing a pretty poor job of it. And if it ever does get you…well, it'll have to answer to the king of Camelot."

"How exactly can you make thunder answer to you?" Mordred objected, almost amused at the ridiculousness of the idea.

"I'm a king, I have my ways," Arthur said mysteriously.

"Yeah, knowing you you'll go out and yell at the thunderstorm until it goes away just to escape your bossiness," Emrys joked. Mordred choked out a laugh.

Arthur put a hand over his heart in mock offense. "I am not bossy, I am a king and my subjects are expected to obey me."

"Mmm, yes, not bossy at all," Emrys agreed sarcastically. "And it is because you are not bossy that you have reiterated that you are the king three times in the last minute."

"Well I am the king, and you would do well to remember that, else I'll make you go out and battle the thunder on Mordred's behalf," Arthur said smugly.

"But I'm not a knight!" Emrys protested dramatically. "I'll freeze!"

Arthur dismissively waved a hand. "Small loss."

"But then who's going to polish your armor, wash your clothes, clean your room, walk your dogs…"

"Muck out my stables?" Arthur finished. Emrys quickly shut his mouth and his eyes widened. Mordred burst into full-throated laughter.

"There, see?" Gwaine said. "Thunder can't stand up to the power of laughter."

"Or the power of Arthur and Merlin arguing like an old married couple," Elyan added.

Both Arthur and Emrys turned to glare menacingly at Elyan. "We are not an old married couple," they said in perfect sync.

Leon smiled indulgently. "Sure you're not. Gwen will be delighted to hear it."

Percival shook his head. "I don't know how the poor woman deals with it…Merlin constantly in her husband's bedchamber…"

"All right, enough!" Mordred cried, laughing so hard that tears streamed down his face. "I can't breathe!"

Arthur smiled. "And meanwhile, by my count it's been six claps of thunder since you last jumped."

"Really?" Mordred asked, surprised.

Arthur nodded. "Really."

"Wow, uh…thanks, guys." Thunder crashed again, and although Mordred heard it, he didn't jump. Emrys was right. The knights really had been a great help.