AN: Cassie is my own character. She is a noble whose parents were killed by bandits, afterwards she went to live with Uther, who was a friend of her parents. She is the same age as Mordred. Her destiny is to help Merlin and Arthur create Albion. This is a kind of AU where Merlin gets to the Battle earlier than he did in the final episode, so Arthur, Mordred and Gwaine don't die. (Cause I love all of them!) This is a Mordred/OC! This is my first Fan Fiction, so reviews and criticism are welcome :D

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except Cassie!
I hope you enjoy it! xxx

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CASSIE POV It couldn't end this way. Face down in mud, blood pooling around my head like a gory red halo. My muscles burned, and I couldn't feel my left arm. All around me I could hear the screams of the falling and the fallen. Where were Arthur and Mordred? They couldn't be dead. I knew that this was Camlann, the battle where, it was foretold, that Arthur would fall, and there was nothing I could do about it. Which is why I could not die. I could not let Arthur down. I was his best friend, along with Merlin, and his protector, again, along with Merlin. I was, and always will be, the master of my own fate.

I struggled to my feet, spots of light exploding in front of my eyes. The whole battlefield had an eerie stillness about it. As I stumbled forward I realized that I was walking through a field of the dead. Men pulled at my ankles, both friend and foe alike, as I passed, but I spared them no thought. I made my way towards the only two people left fighting. Two men, one tall with blond hair, and a red cloak of Camelot, and the other, a shorter man with curling, raven locks, wearing simple armor. No, please Lord no.
"STOP!"
A wrinkled old man stood atop the cliff over looking the battlefield. He wore a long, red robe, and had an awfully familiar looking face, with a long beard and wooden walking stick. Emrys. Merlin.
"Imhotepe asantanias desomelay!"
The chanting seemed nonsensical to me but it seemed to work. Mordred flew backwards, slamming onto the ground almost fifty meters away from Arthur. His body convulsed in pain.
"Mordred!" His name escaped my lips before I could even think about it. He may have been under Morgana's influence, and trying to kill Arthur, but love is weird. And I would not let him die, he meant too much to me.

I lurched forwards, tripping, but continuing on my hands and knees. Arthur began to run to me, and Emrys searched wildly for a cliff path down. I crawled faster and faster, and was in touching distance of Mordred when the rocks slipped out from under my right side. I slid sideways, falling down an almost sheer slope. I bounced and rolled, landing at the bottom, my head cracking hard against a rock. Pain rocked my body in a strong wave, and my vision clouded over.

When I regained partial consciousness I was in a warm, comfortable bed. My head rested on a fluffy pillow, and a thick duvet was draped over my body. I felt better than I had in months. Mentally and physically I felt perfect. The weight of the prophecy, destinies, Camlann, Morgana, it all seemed gone. I noticed a soft hand stroking mine, and a voice whispering gently in my ear.
"Cass," it said, "Cass, please be awake."
I didn't want to be awake, didn't want to open my eyes. I was happy in my warm, cozy bubble, all the worries that had been ricocheting off the inside of head seemed far away.
The hand had begun to caress my face, it's thumb tracing my cheekbone delicately.
"Cass, come on, dammit Cass please!"
A nagging thought scratched the at back of my brain. Why was I worried about Mordred? What was he doing last time I had seen him? That was it, he had been flying backwards, his body hitting the ground. I had not seen him move. My eyes snapped open, and there was only one thought in my mind.
"Mordred."

The piercing blue eyes above me were a shockingly welcome sight. I sat up as fast as I could and wrapped my arms tight around Mordred's neck. One of his arms wound around my waist and he held me close, his other arm supported my back, while he stroked my tangled hair. "I thought you were dead," I sobbed, I could feel my tears making lines in the cracked, dried dirt on my face. I guessed that Mordred had healed me, but didn't bother washing my face or hair. I could tell that the tangles in my hair were matted blood, but right now I couldn't care less. Mordred was here, Mordred was alive, Mordred was holding me. And in that moment, that was all that mattered.
But my mind suddenly flashed back to it's logical path.
"Merlin? And Arthur? Where are they? Are they all right?"
"Fine, Cassie, they're fine," Mordred soothed me, "They're safe. I... I couldn't hurt them. Not when it came down to it."
I tucked my head deep into the crook of his neck.
"Thank you," I breathed.

It was two weeks later and we had decided that, at the moment, that it was too dangerous to go back to Camelot. Even though Mordred was sorry, he hated himself for trying to hurt Arthur, and I was here to vouch for him, we knew Arthur wouldn't be as forgiving. We were staying in an abandoned cottage in the woods that Mordred had found on his travels with the Druids, around twenty miles away from Camelot, in the middle of dense forest. It was near a stream, so we had settled into a familiar routine of berries for breakfast, hunting and fishing in the afternoon, meat for dinner, and in the evenings we sat by the fire, reminiscing.
I dreaded the nights. The second Mordred bedded down in the main living room, my heart began thumping wildly. I hated sleeping on my own in the bedroom, even when I had a candle. The nightmares were usually of Camlann, or Morgana, or the day my parents were murdered. Whenever they woke me, I would try to cry as quietly as possible, so as not to wake Mordred, and then sit awake in my room until sunrise.

Arthur thrust his sword through Mordred's abdomen and twisted the blade cruelly, a smirk on his face. Now I was in the courtyard of Camelot's citadel, watching Mordred be led up the steps to a gallows, a bag forced over his head, and the rope slipped around his neck. The trapdoor opened and Mordred dropped.
Morgana had her fingers clutching Mordred's head, and she viciously tilted it backwards. She ran a sharp dagger across his throat, and blood spattered the stone floor like rubies.
Merlin was grinning down at Mordred, his eyes blazing amber. Mordred was writhing and screaming in pain on the floor. Merlin clenched his fist and Mordred's scream rose to such a pitch that he became silent. He began to shake violently, went still, and his body slumped, eyes wide and unseeing.

I shoot up, shrieking and thrashing. My whole body was covered in sweat, and there were tears cascading down my face. I tried to tear the blanket off of me, but it seemed to be like a cocoon, a prison, wrapping around me and trapping me in a tiny bubble of stuffy heat, and damp sweat. The door burst open and Mordred rushed into the room. He pulled me into his arms and rocked me softly, shushing me, whispering to me.
"Cass, shhh, it'll be okay," he murmured, resting his chin on top of my head,
"Cassie tell me what happened, tell me what's wrong."
"Nightmares," I choked out, "You were d-dying!"
"No, I'm here, I will not leave you," he said determination strong in his voice, "Cassie, I will always be here." I looked up at him, his perfect, almond shaped eyes were full of caring and concern, his hair curled perfectly at the nape of his neck. Without thinking I reached up and twisted my fingers into the curls on the back of his head. He stared at me, confused. I had never been truly impulsive until that moment. The moment when I pulled him down to me and kissed him, hard, and passionate on the mouth. He seemed surprised but leaned over me and ran his tongue over my bottom lip, I opened my mouth longingly, a moan escaping. He climbed onto the bed over me on his hands and knees, and I brought my legs up around his waist. He moved his lips to my neck, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses down to the hollow in my throat.
"Mordred," my voice came out in a breathy moan.
His hands moved to my waist, squeezing, and suddenly he jerked backwards away from me.
"Good idea," I whispered, I needed a bit of room if we were to do this properly.
I began to pull at the strings holding together the bodice of my nightgown. Mordred's hand stopped mine.
"Cass, no."
I glanced up at him, he looked pained. He wouldn't meet my eyes and his hands moved mine away from my bodice. But it was too late to stop. The bodice fell apart slowly, it's two halves opening to reveal my chest.
Mordred looked away, his eyes screwed shut, his plump, cupid's bow lips were pursed in a thin line. "This is wrong Cass," he said, his voice was harsh, and cruel like I'd never heard before.
I hauled the blanket up to my chin, my face was flushed red, and hot tears of embarrassment stung the back of my eyes. I thought he felt the same way about me. All the small smiles when we passed in the corridors, laughing together on rides, lazy swordplay on the training field. It all seemed like he returned my feelings. The pain of rejection was so unexpected that anger rose up inside me.
"Kara? Is this because of her. She's dead, Mordred, she is not coming back," I spat.
"Don't you dare," he said, his voice level, "Just don't, please. Cass this is wrong for many other reasons than Kara."
"What's wrong with me? Why is this wrong Mordred," I snapped, "D'you know what forget it. Just get out. Leave!"
"Cass I-"
"GO!" I shrieked yanking the covers up over my head, and burying my face in the pillow.
I heard him get off the bed and walk to the door. A pause.
"I'm sorry."
The door closed and I let myself go. I cried so hard that I became soundless, my body shook with small tremors. I heard Mordred lie down in the adjoining room, sighing softly as he slipped off into sleep.

I clambered inelegantly out the window. I was wrapped in a cream tunic that reached my knees, tied at the waist by a belt, over black riding pants, leather boots, and a long black cloak. I was dressed for walking. It was almost twenty miles to Camelot, and I would have to make good time if I didn't want to be caught. I had to get away from him, the sickening humiliation was too much for me to bear. And now that I knew he didn't love me back I had no reason to stay.

My feet were bleeding when I reached Camelot two days later. I could barely stand as I stumbled towards the gates with the rest of the refugees still pouring to Camelot after the Battle of Camlann. I passed the guards without event, I was ragged and dirty, and practically identical to the hordes of people massing around the citadel. I stepped into the courtyard and looked up. Arthur, Merlin, Guinevere, and the rest of the knights were milling around, passing out supplies, and comforting the wounded. Merlin's eyes shone amber at intervals, and I was overjoyed to see Arthur look across and smile at him while he so openly used magic. Merlin turned, catching my eye. He went to keep turning, to survey the courtyard, but suddenly did a double take when he realized who I was. "Cass." His mouth formed the word, but the sound was lost in the melee of the injured and the ill.
"CASSIE!"
Merlin raised his voice, attracting the attention of everyone in the immediate area. I tripped over my own feet as I ran to him. I began to fall, and I cast a last desperate thought back to the scribbled note I had left in the cottage as the ground rose up to meet my face.

MORDRED POV

I hadn't meant to hurt her. But it was wrong on so many levels. Firstly, Kara had just died, and though I loved Cassie with everything I had, Kara's memory was too fresh in my mind. Secondly, she was noble, born to a rich, proud family, and I was just a knight. Albeit, one of Camelot, if I hadn't been banished, or sentenced to death. And I was a Druid, hated by most, or feared.
Also, we were not married, it was all well and good for her to offer herself to me but that didn't make us married, it would be indecent. Not in my eyes, or hers, apparently, but in the eyes of everyone else. And it would hurt her, badly, and I couldn't bear the thought of me causing her any pain. I couldn't harm her body in any way. Her beautiful body, her perfect face, her smile, the way she moved, her compassion, everything about her was perfection.

I stood up, off of my makeshift bed. I couldn't leave this any longer. I had been waiting for her to come out of her room but it was obvious she wasn't going to do that anytime soon. I had to explain to her why I turned her down. She probably thought I hated her, or at the very least that I didn't love her. I did though, I truly did, I just needed time, and if we were going to be together, we were going to do it properly. She had to know all the consequences of what she wanted to do.
"Cass, are you awake?" I asked, tapping gently on the door, "Cass I'm coming in."

I sucked in a breath, but it felt like my throat was closing up. The window was open, Cassie was gone, and there was a rolled up piece of parchment lying on her bed. I picked it up, twisting it before my fingers before opening it. There were two lines scribbled in capital letters, black ink contrasting starkly against the cream parchment.

"I'VE GONE BACK TO CAMELOT. DO NOT COME AFTER ME."

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SIX MONTHS LATER

CASSIE POV

My birthday had been four months ago. I had never liked birthdays, especially my own. Too much attention focused on me and I didn't do well in the spotlight. And what had happened at the start of the day had ruined my mood.

I had woken up feeling slightly sick when I thought about the day ahead. I had felt something under my pillow, hard and round, and sticking up slightly. I pushed my hand underneath the fabric, groping. My fingers found a cold little ball. I had pulled it out, my stomach clenching in anticipation. It was a small, perfect pearl on a chain. I had seen it before.

Mordred had found it when we had gone on a picnic, while we were staying in the cottage. It had been looped on the branch of a tree, at the edge of a clearing in the forest. I had told him it was the most beautiful thing I had ever scene, but I wouldn't feel right taking it.

But when I had looked at it on the morning of my birthday, there was a small 'C' carved on the back.

Four months later, when Leon, Gwaine, Percival, and the rest returned from a patrol, with the news that Mordred was dead, I did not cry. My duty was to help Arthur, to help Merlin, and to be strong for them. Mordred had betrayed Arthur, and Camelot. Arthur had once told Merlin that no man was worth his tears. This became my mantra whenever a certain black haired, blue eyed man crept into my thoughts. He was not worth my tears.
So I did not cry, I would not cry.