The Dark Tower

Episode: The Dark Tower
Category: Gen
Rating/Warnings: K


The atmosphere around Camelot always seemed more relaxed when Arthur and his best knights were away. True, the city was still well protected, but the ordinary guards and soldiers simply didn't maintain the constant vigilance one was forced to live with under normal circumstances.

Indeed, the young man would've never dared to use magic within Camelot's walls if the king had been in residence. But today… gods, he was so tired. Having been up since well before dawn unloading wagon after wagon of supplies, his strong, lanky muscles were aching with exhaustion. Was it really so bad? There was no one else around… not a single soul to witness the flash of gold in his eyes, no listening ears to hear the softly uttered incantation as it fell from his lips.

He smile to himself as the bags of grain and sacks of vegetables floated through the air and into the storage house, lost to the sweet magic thrumming through his veins. Soon enough, he was so caught up in the spell, something that felt more natural to him than breathing, that he didn't even notice he was no longer alone.

It was only when the final wagon was empty that he happened to glance behind him, gasping in horror as he recognized the man who was standing there.

Sir Mordred was gazing back at him, ice blue eyes seeming to pierce him right to his soul. The other man's expression displayed no trace of shock, not even a hint of outrage, but that was hardly relevant. A Knight of Camelot, sworn to uphold the law? Oh, he was going to die, no question about it. Burned at the stake, beheaded, hanged? Or maybe Sir Mordred wouldn't even bother with any of that, choosing to cut him down right where he stood.

"Please, I… I didn't mean any harm," the young man sputtered out, too distraught to notice the tears as they began to flow freely down his cheeks. "I should've never used it, it's just that I was tired, and… oh, that's no excuse. Please, sir, I don't want to die. My mother needs me, my sisters…"

The knight held up a hand to stop him. "You know the penalty for sorcery."

"Yes, I'm so sorry. It was stupid, foolish…"

"See that it doesn't happen again."

The young man nodded vigorously, hardly able to believe his good fortune. "It won't, I promise. Thank you, sir. Thank you!"

Mordred turned to walk away but then paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "It won't always be like this," he said softly, giving him a sad smile. "One day, we'll be free."