Immortal: Happy belated 5th Anniversary to Fate Grand Order for North America! I had meant to push this chapter out on that date, but moving and other life events got in the way. But even when life got in the way, seeing this story continue to get favorited and followed gave me hope that people still were interested in this, so I thank every one of you who read this story and didn't give up on it.
Gudako: And I thank you for getting Caster Artoria and to NP 3 at that. Now with the next event coming to North America, you'll have to get the swimsuit servants there too!
Immortal: But I already got you Castoria! Can't you let me just skip this and be content with Paisen in her swimsuit?!
Gudako: Well consider it your punishment for beating my servants and banishing me in the re-run of "All the Statesmen!". Plus, didn't they do this event twice before-
Immortal: OOOOKAY! Enough with the meta commentary. Speaking of which... thanks once again to Avenger013 for their incredible contribution to helping to make sure this chapter was good. I once more again advise you to check out their story, "Something Lost, Something Found" and see Morgan and Ritsuka's interactions there! This is an awesome story and something I'm glad to have checked out.
Also... some further notes.
I know it is very late to do so, but while Morgan le Faye is a techinically correct way of spelling her name, but for the purpose of the story, I will from now on refer to her as "Morgan le Fay", without the "e" on the end. I updated the chapters to reflect that as well as improve the grammar some. I will also be adding something that I had been working on for a while to help assist with the story.
A TIMELINE!
So I did some diving into Arthurian mythology to help somewhat sync this up with Nasu's version of the telling as well as adding my own ideas in. So between the 5th and 6th century according to Geoffrey of Monmouth, this is the earliest timeline in which the legend of King Arthur began. Nasu wasn't specific exactly when Artoria was born, even in Garden of Avalon, except for "during a time of chaos and war", ie "The Dark Ages". So somewhere between 400 and 600 AD.
Finally, thanks to JSim1998 on the TV Tropes website, Legacy of the Saber King has been recommended under the General Fic of the Fate/Grand Order Fanfic Rec page! It's an incredible feeling to be recommended and who knows? Maybe someday I might get an actual trope page! Ah, now it's time to FINALLY get this chapter underway!
Disclaimer: This story is fan-based writing. All characters and locations are owned by their respective copyright holders for the Nasurverse as well as Arthurian mythology. I do not own them in any way, shape, form, or concept to include Reality Marbles, Singularities, or Lostbelts. Please support the official release, but don't go too crazy spending your money on the Fate/Grand Order gacha!
Sir Mordred and the Assassin Knight
447 Anno Domini
Christmas had come and gone for Camelot and the court of King Arthur, yet there was still a festive and cheerful air in the surrounding lands. Many nobles and their retinues had been invited to Camelot to feast and enjoy the bountiful hospitality of their king. Even the peasantry outside of Camelot itself had been able to share in the frivolities and enjoy the excess of food and drink. The king's generosity was such that even the poorest and least of his people could for one day at least enjoy the food and drink sampled by the perfect king.
But it was not just pleasantries, the exchange of gifts, nor renewed oaths of friendship that had brought so many lords and ladies to King Arthur's court. It was also a time for political maneuvering and to bring news to the land of Britain as a whole. Though most lords, ladies, and fellow kings were genuine in their loyalty and oaths, there were still some who held deep in themselves plots of treason. They would stab their king in the back if they thought they could get away with it, but King Arthur was ordained by heaven and chosen as king for drawing the sword in the stone. To go against him was tantamount to going against God and so for the time being treason was kept merely to private thoughts.
Amongst the gifts and well-wishes, an envoy bearing a letter from King Mark of Cornwall had arrived, packaged with gifts of pearls from the sea, intricately carved furniture from the trees of Mark's own woods and a strange box emitting a somewhat unpleasant odor despite being set in a bed of flowers. All packed into an intricately carved litter borne between two footmen.
The envoy had informed Sir Agravain that the letter was to be given straight to him without the slightest delay and he was in sole possession of the key to open the chest. Furthermore, it was requested that the chest not be opened unless it was in the presence of King Arthur. Again, per King Mark's request. But Sir Agravain was insistent on checking everything before it reached his king. But the the envoy insisted that it was a matter of grave importance that could not be encroached upon.
Sir Agravain's look hardened at the man and he spoke no word, his face unfriendly and dark at being denied the means to safeguard the king. It could be some foul spell or some other awful thing that Mark sent…or perhaps his erstwhile mother was intent on sending the king a gift. At that possibility, his first thought was to simply get rid of the box outright, unwilling to risk anything when it came her. But then he pushed the thought aside, as disposing of the gift would be seen as a direct insult to Mark. King Arthur didn't need any trouble on New Year's Eve.
So he merely persisted in his eagle-like glare until the envoy with shaking hands gave the letter and the key to Sir Agravain, hurriedly apologizing before taking his leave. The Black Iron Knight took the letter and curtly ordered the bearers of the chest to follow him. It wasn't long before Agravain's steps took him into the inner part of the Castle and up to the Round Table where King Arthur frequently sat with his knights. The room was well-lit with decorative chandeliers that gave the room a warm and welcoming appearance, finely sewn tapestries covered the walls containing the heraldry of his seated Round Table knights, and both singing and music immediately hit Agravain when he opened the great double doors.
At the Round Table itself, King Arthur was seated in his own chair, as majestic and regal in relaxation as he was in all else he did, as his knights sang songs, drank deeply from their tankards, played music, and enjoyed the blessings of such a brotherhood that had never before been. King Arthur had said that the Round Table was meant for all to be equal, for it was at this table that his knights could refer to him as "Arthur" their fellow knight, brother, and beloved friend instead of just "king". But such was their regard for their leader that the knights insisted time and again on using his proper title, and eventually Arthur had given in and allowed it without complaint.
Queen Guinevere was seated beside her husband, dressed in a white dress with silver threading in the shape of snowflakes and with a thin silver circlet crown around her head, wearing the round glass spectacles gifted to her by Merlin to help aid her sight. King Arthur meanwhile was bedecked in his usual silver armor and blue and white robes. She was smiling and listening to Lancelot's stories, her face and voice beautiful as she spoke with the Knight of the Lake. She was all but ignored by her husband as he immediately looked to Sir Agravain, a little surprised to see him as he approached with the chests.
Unlike the other knights who were dressed in formal relaxed wear with no armor, the king's usual attire appeared to be more dress than robe under his cuirass and faulds, though he did deem to remove his gauntlets. Any who would dare say the king wore a dress aloud had long since lost some teeth after they'd made the mistake of raising the topic in Agravain's presence. After a few other people were violently assaulted for it by person or persons unknown and all talk regarding the king's appearance had ceased in the castle of Camelot.
"Sir Agravain!", called Gawain, gesturing to him with his tankard of ale as he hung onto his brother Gaheris in an almost headlock as the younger man tried to wrestle his brother off, "Ach, it's bonnie gud tah see yah mah dear brutha! Ah dinnah think ye'd beh celebratin' wit' us! Hae ye finally gat tha' tree outta yer arse?"
Agravain wrinkled his nose in distaste for a moment. When extremely drunk, his dear brother Sir Gawain was apt to slip into his Orkney accent. He ordered the men behind him to approach with the chest while he strode over to King Arthur and went down on one knee before him.
"My king, a letter from Mark of Cornwall came for you. ", said Agravain as he ignored his brother with an impeccably correct tone, "Though I feel he should have come himself in person and paid proper fealty.".
"I'm certain that Mark of Cornwall has a great many reasons to not come. He is a prickly man after all.", chimed in Sir Tristan as he strummed his harp, his face nearly matching his hair in redness to indicate he too had imbibed quite a bit of alcohol. Despite being such a lean man, he had quite an appetite for alcohol, and his tolerance ensured that his usual drinking habits didn't hamper his musical skills one bit.
"Well considering who cucked him I wonder why he wouldn't want to come.", muttered an olive-skinned knight opposite of Tristan under his breath as he took a bite out of a roast chicken, only to suddenly feel the splatter of a meat pie as it streaked his ebony hair with gravy, vegetables, and beef. The other knights roared with laughter as gravy stuck to the knight and stained his black-and-white tabard while Guinevere covered her mouth to hide her giggle. Only King Arthur was not laughing or smiling as he focused on Agravain to speak with him.
"Oh dear.", said Tristan as he opened an eye and gave a smug look at the other knight before plucking a chord, "It would seem Sir Palamedes has forgotten that in this land, we eat food and do not decorate our faces with it."
"Sir Tristan…!", complained Sir Percival disapprovingly as he set down his lute, "I worked hard on overseeing the Christmas dinner, so you shouldn't do something like that to Sir Palamedes! Besides… I've already tried to see if I can't decorate my face with food. It's not very hygienic and the head of the kitchens scolded me when I did that."
"Chelb!", spat Sir Palamedes, ignoring Percival's attempts to cool tempers before he ran around the table and tackled Tristan before a brawl ensued.
The other knights cheered this on, except Sir Bedivere and Sir Percival who tried to calm them down. The two knights were pinching and pulling each other's cheeks while King Arthur glanced over. If he raised his voice even an octave, then they would all sober immediately, yet he was content to let them enjoy themselves and an almost smile appeared on his face as he looked fondly at them. He didn't smile of course, but Guinevere could tell that even her husband was amused by this.
The king turned his attention back to Agravain, politely asked him to rise and thanked him with quiet words as he received the letter as well as the key for the chest. Upon reading it himself, King Arthur asked him if he would not wish to join them in the merriment. To King Arthur, Sir Agravain had just as much a right to be there and to celebrate New Year with them all, and his heart would be gladdened for his secretary to have a well-deserved rest for all his hard work.
"You are truly gracious, my King.", said Agravain with a nod of quiet gratitude, "But I am afraid I am behind some work still. So long as you continue to rule and be my king, I will be untroubled and unburdened."
But before they could speak any further, Sir Lancelot had raised his voice to ask what it was that Agravain was bringing the king.
From the moment Agravain had entered the room, Lancelot had noticed something odd in the air and frowned slightly as he looked at Agravain and the chest he was holding. The Knight of the Lake left his seat to approach the chest and he frowned slightly as he asked Agravain why King Mark decided to send something foul. Agravain shot the French knight a look before he admitted that he hadn't looked yet and King Arthur answered for them.
"This is the arm of Sir Breuse Sans Pitie, the Brown Knight Without Pity."
Instantly, the brawls and songs stopped as every one of the knights looked up at their king. The Brown Knight had been an endless source of trouble for them all. Gawain in particular had a grudge against the robber knight due to him using that damn horse to run him over several times in an attempt to kill him. It was thanks to his blessing under the sun that saved his life, but when he finally killed the horse, the Brown Knight had thrown down his sword and cried for mercy.
As a knight sworn to King Arthur, Gawain had no choice but to grant him that. But the second the horse resurrected itself thanks to the bond with his master, Sir Breuse had the Knight of the Sun trampled over again before making his escape with braying laughter.
"Ach!", spat Gawain angrily as he released Gaheris just as the squire turned purple from lack of air, but he calmed down as the queen looked at him pointedly to mind his manners. He took a deep breath and spoke with the Orkney accent now absent from his speech, "So… does Mark of Cornwall say exactly WHO was the one to bring the Brown Knight to justice?"
"Sir Bertilak de Hautdesert was the one to retrieve the arm, but the blow that struck him down was his squire named Mordred, who had rescued his mother Morgan le Fay from his clutches. Furthermore, this Mordred is a natural son of King Lot, whom Mark informs me in this letter has acknowledged."
Tristan's eyes shot opened with naked astonishment on his face that Agravain didn't fail to catch while Gawain was struck silent while the the room processed this information. Bedivere gaped silently, but looked to his king to see how he was taking this news. Palamedes just looked between the other knights, confused by why everybody was so astonished. Lancelot looked grim at this, also looking at both the king and queen with his astonishment subdued before he opened the crate and after seeing the armor and the signet ring still attached to the rotting finger.
"This… this is authentic. This arm did indeed belong to Sir Breuse."
The silence and the news was processed between everybody for almost a full minute as everybody took the news in their own way. Some felt that Morgan le Fay should have been subjected to the Brown Knights cruelties, while others were amazed at how this young boy had succeeded where they all had failed, and there were more still who were grim at the news of Morgan le Fay's reemergence.
King Lot was fiercely protective of his family and his children no matter who they were as well as the mothers of said children. Gawain, Gaheris, Agravain, and King Arthur all knew that King Lot would take in Mordred and his mother under his protection.
"Congratulations Sir Gawain!", said Percival happily after he connected the dots in his head and broke the silence, "You've got another little brother already on his way to do great things! Does the letter say anything about Mordred?"
The Knight of the Sun grasped at the air with his hands as if to strangle the younger knight, but he knew full well that Percival was being completely sincere in congratulating him and being happy that he had a younger sibling. Tristan meanwhile was silent in his thoughts as he marveled that perhaps the young boy who swore to join the Round Table would actually succeed! But then that would mean that there was a witness to his tryst with Iseult! The boy had given his word to keep quiet, but still… to have succeeded so soon?
Only Agravain kept his composure along with the king and queen as the two royal sovereigns re-read the letter before the queen said, "Well according to Mark, Mordred is by all accounts eager to prove himself, already surpassing others his age and even seasoned men in feats of arm and chivalry, but he is also added to be willful and stubborn, for he had disobeyed the king directly in order to save his mother from the Brown Knight."
"He shouldn't have done that.", said Lancelot with a sardonic smile, "Is what I ought to say, but I probably would have done the same in his place for my mother."
"You would disobey me if I asked you directly to not do so?", said King Arthur as he looked at the Knight of the Lake, but there was an almost smile on his face as he looked at his dearest friend and spoke with gentle humor in his voice.
"Er… well uh, that is-"
Seeing Lancelot on the back foot eased the tension in the air and everybody began to laugh a little at him being taken off-guard. All except for King Arthur and Agravain, though the slight tilt on the axis of the corner of his lip could only be called a smile as it was one of smug pleasure at seeing Lancelot stumbling.
"My king, ", spoke Bedivere, "does the letter say anything further regarding Morgan le Fay and Sir Mordred?"
"Only that they will be departing from Cornwall when the snow melts.", answered the King before he reexamined the letter once more. The Queen placed a gentle hand on her husband's arm before she whispered something to him that nobody could hear. He looked over at her for a moment, his eyes hidden behind the shadow of his golden bangs before giving the slightest of nods.
"Sir Gawain, Sir Agravain, and Gaheris.", said Guinevere, her own spectacles shining as she spoke with authority befitting a queen, "I ask of you to commune with Mark on this matter and to provide a safe escort for my sister-in-law and nephew to King Lot."
The knights protested loudly and even the gentle Percival looked quietly troubled by this, but Bedivere and Agravain were silent for different reasons. Bedivere, due to him understanding that if his king didn't approve of this, he would've stifled the matter immediately.
Agravain was silent due to not trusting himself to speak without saying something… indecent.
Queen Guinevere however stood up from her chair and Lancelot slammed his open palm on the table, the sudden noise cutting off all words in order for her to speak without raising her voice.
"This is a new year and we ought to make peace with Morgan le Fay. She has done harm in the past, but hers has been a hard life and an unhappy one. Showing her kindness may be what breaks through to her and bring reconciliation. Our King Arthur has always championed the cause of using force in the pursuit of justice, not for force to be used for the sake of itself."
The knights all knew of this, but remained quiet for Guinevere, "But perhaps in the case of Morgan le Fay, it is my hope that we can temper force with compassion, to let her know that she is not wholly lost to us and can still repent. I know my wishes may seem like the naivete of a maiden who doesn't know the ways of the world, but have we ever actually tried to reconcile with her or allow Morgan le Fay to address her grievances?"
None of the knights in the room could argue with this because as far as they knew, Morgan le Fay had simply been married off to Urien of Rheged after Arthur ascended to the throne as part of an alliance deal, which led to an unhappy and miserable marriage for his sister. Morgause, the other sibling, had a much happier marriage with Lot in the lands of Lothian, being blessed with four children whom she still deeply loved, and there was little doubt that she would accept Mordred if her husband wished it.
With that, the Orkney brothers bowed their heads and agreed to this. It had been a long time since they had visited Gareth and their father, so this would provide a good excuse to make the visit, but despite the Queen's words they still waited for the final edict of their king. He folded the letter back up and looked back to the chest containing the robber knight's missing limb and thought of Morgan le Fay's son, his nephew and thought back to a prophecy given by Merlin and the action she had taken that day to attempt to subvert it.
The king spoke his orders and the matter was settled.
/~/
Mordred
Several months had passed since the knighting of Mordred by her master, but as per King Mark's agreement, she and her mother were allowed to shelter in Castle Tintagel until King Lot would be ready to receive them.
For the whole of winter Mordred had continued her training and further education under the Green Knight, even going out on minor quests when the weather permitted for them to do so. These quests were to help the peasants, to assist minor lords subservient to King Mark, and to have Mordred understand the life of a knight firsthand. Her mother however never failed to remind Mordred in private after every quest that she must remain distant from the people, to not be distracted by their petty concerns or else she'd never cease to hear their bleating, whinging, and complaints.
Sir Bertilak in the meanwhile had become grouchier, but the new knight assumed it was merely the changing of the seasons. She didn't really care for winter either, having always preferred spring, fall, and summer which meant that she had more freedom when she lived in the cottage in the woods with her mother.
Even after being knighted, the restlessness that she felt was stronger than ever. Her waking hours would be spent training with a practice sword or patrolling around Tintagel Castle and the lands of Cornwall. Though being a knight granted her a certain freedom, she was warned to keep to a curfew or Mark would throw her and her Mother out into the cold promise or no. But the part that was perhaps the strangest of all was if she was patrolling outside Cornwall, she was told to wear a helm, but always one that concealed her face.
Mordred was concerned that people would not recognize her if she was always hiding her face, but Mother insisted that it was necessary for her to get used to concealing her face. For what purpose she would not say, but when Christmas had come to Tintagel Castle and she was shown a picture of her future armor, then the facts became clear. Just looking at the thick and cumbersome-looking plate armor with its horned helmet, spiked greaves, huge pauldrons, and wide faulds made her imagine just how terrifying she would be to King Arthur's enemies.
She had also begun to dream more frequently of Camelot and of the Round Table, sometimes envisioning herself so deeply in their brotherhood that a few times when she awoke from her dream she felt disappointed at the reality. The faces of King Arthur's inner circle and the stories surrounding them, including her personal encounters with Sir Tristan and Sir Kay had become clearer with every day.
Mordred's body had also begun to show more noticeable signs of change. She was still as flat-chested as ever even with the growth spurt she was going through, but she cut a lean and fit figure that drew the admiration of other squires and especially the maidens at Castle Tintagel. Her hair was also starting to grow back from the short and messy trim that her mother had given her so long ago. It was messy and needed brushing, but she simply tied it with a string and lit the excess hang.
She had begun to grow taller too, though she was still dwarfed by the giant that was the Green Knight, but now she was almost eye level with her mother's nose. But this rapid change had seemed to unsettle the serfs and the people at Tintagel Castle. People had always viewed that it wasn't normal for her to be so strong that young. Nobody dared say a word aloud, but Mordred was beginning to suspect that their fears were always there and it was only now that she could actually hear them. Yet when she performed any kind of deed or acted with courtesy, people would be delighted and suddenly begin to praise her. This two-faced behavior confused and irritated the knight, wondering just why they wouldn't say what they mean instead of faking politeness.
While being praised was validation for all her hard work, Mordred wanted it most from her Mother than some nameless serfs whose names she never bothered to really remember. Mother had always discouraged her from forming connections with the serfs as they were of no consequence.
"They are like cattle.", Mother would always say, "With the only noticeable exception being that they can speak."
Ever since the revelation of her inhumanity, Mordred had never quite been able to connect with others her age and the only positive interaction she had was when she would perform some deed or speak graciously for them. When she was a child it was different because she didn't know any better, but when she was a squire and then a knight it became different. Admiration was not forthcoming unless she directly did something for them and even then there was a wariness to people interacting with her as if she were some mercurial guard dog that could snap at them without warning. Although she liked Queen Iseult well enough, Mordred still never forgot how she was still seeing Sir Tristan despite his supposed banishment and that she loved him even though she was married to Mark.
But from those who were different, like Mother and the Green Knight, she felt their praise was more genuine. The Green Knight would still push her in body, mind, and spirit, but it was to make her the best she could be with what little time was left. He had even helped her start to focus her mana and direct herself better with it. It was still hard to draw on without the emotion of anger, but Sir Bertilak had also encouraged Mordred to continue developing her own method of fighting to help in this. Although she knew how to fight with sword, shield, spear, axe, and mace, she was most comfortable with a longsword in conjunction with punching and kicking.
Mother had become more attentive to her when she continued her training under the Green Knight after her rescue. She would watch the new knight's lessons in her suddenly open schedule and even invited Mordred to sup together every evening. She still rarely smiled and was only slightly less miserly with any affection, but just to have her there and to initiate any kind of physical affection or show any sign of her approval was a balm for Mordred. One day she had gone out riding when the snows were clear and Mordred was able to show her skills at riding. Mother was dressed as lightly as ever, seemingly untroubled by the cold with only a riding cloak to keep the snow off her, looking more beautiful than ever with the light snowfall that settled around her, like a snow fairy in the stories she remembered.
To Mordred's surprise, this sincere compliment caused Mother to have the slightest red to appear on her cheeks before turning her head.
But the praise and affection she sought from her mother was still a treasure that always seemed out of her reach. Her words were usually not encouragement, but merely acknowledgement of performing, "as expected" or just a silent nod of her head. The praise that she sometimes let slip also did not seem so much meant for Mordred as for herself, "splendid", "excellent", or "genius".
But then one day after Christmas, Mother had tried to teach her private lessons for court intrigue when she would infiltrate Camelot to throw down King Arthur. In a way it was encouraging to know that her mother already saw her success, but Mordred still felt put off and privately distressed at the thought of going to Camelot as an assassin, though Mother was careful to never even say the exact words, as if she knew somebody was listening even in her own private chambers.
/~/
Handling court life was more important than even her training with Sir Bertilak according to her mother, and Mordred still wanted to spend time with, so she was eager to try if it meant her mother thought she was worth being around. Mother would tell her how it wasn't enough to simply swing a sword and kill people in order to advance close to King Arthur. She would still have to wait at least another year or so before she would even be considered as a candidate for the Round Table.
Despite the fact that she killed the Brown Knight Without Pity and received a knighthood for it, as far as King Arthur and his court was concerned, she was a nobody. "An eyebrow would be raised at best that the Brown Knight was killed by you, perhaps a bit of praise if only for your success at such a young age."
"Then I'll do better than all of them!", said Mordred defiantly, having gained new confidence since becoming a knight. Mother was becoming more tolerant of her willfulness since she was now a knight, but sometimes this even had limits. Thankfully she had not quite reached the end of her patience with Mordred repeatedly saying that she'd just beat everybody until they did what she wanted.
Court intrigue was a game of sorts in which people were pieces to be manipulated or tricked for one's own safety and gain. Mordred was quite capable of being persuasive through sweet words and a charming smile. As a squire, Mordred was mostly ignored by the local serfs of Tintagel Castle if not outright feared because of her unnatural strength. But with the title of knight, people had begun to notice Mordred's charming smiles and how she could speak with unlimited confidence in whatever she did. One just felt an instinctive ability to trust that the new knight was born to be great and it would be impossible to refuse her requests.
Unfortunately, Mordred simply had no patience for the subtleties of intrigue and hated the intricacies of speaking in a roundabout way. She was told that when speaking, to watch her tone of voice and facial expressions when speaking. A clever person could discern truth from just expression, eyes, or voice, but to be able to deceive this was the mark of a practiced speaker.
Additionally, these lectures would involve practical exercises in deception and intrigue. The final test was getting the old head maid dismissed from the castle. She had disliked both Mordred and her Mother from the start, but she never would say anything or do anything directly, but the looks of fear and hate were always present. After Mother's rescue, the head maid had been heard saying it would have been better if Morgan and her whelp had died.
Mordred had achieved the woman's dismissal by having somebody, "miraculously" turn up with a necklace that had disappeared from Queen Iseult's room. All of this had been done by speaking to certain people, spreading a rumor or two, and all of this had to be done without any of it being tied to Mordred or her mother.
Mordred felt awful as the older woman was sent from the castle with sobs and a small pack in the middle of a snowstorm. She had no family to take her, no husband nor children, and had lived at the castle most of her life. An investigation had of course been launched, but nothing could prove her innocence and Mark had said banishment was the kindest mercy he would afford her. The new head maid was always making sure that Mother and she were well-off, in gratitude for her position, but Mordred still disliked this. She felt more comfortable being able to speak truthfully and letting others know what she thought. It didn't matter if a person was in an important position or born to the right family and lying to get better position or comforts was something she hated.
She had gotten into a verbal argument with her Mother over this for the first time when the two found time to be alone. Long years of strict discipline and harsh punishments had instilled a fear in Mordred that still lingered, but as she observed the differences in their bodies Mordred began to wonder if her Mother tried to pull on her hair now or slap her, how would she react if she did the same in kind to her?
But then Mother had calmly told her that if she felt that way, then she had best get to confessing the truth to King Mark. Word of her being a liar so soon after being knighted would surely kill any chance she would have of being accepted into the Round Table.
But to do so would go against the code of knighthood, to always be honest and true, yet the trap had been sprung and as Mother pointed out, she had already committed the deed. Furthermore… Mordred had already been deceiving King Mark and the court this whole time by pretending to be a male when HE was in fact SHE. Mordred had felt helpless fury and yet she knew her Mother was right. To reveal the truth would destroy all that she had done so far and that despite the fact that the old woman would surely die, the knight had bowed her head in silent rage and defeat.
"Remember child.", said Mother as she embraced the beaten knight from behind, her hands placed on her shoulders and her voice whispering like an icy wind, "Your loyalty is only to me."
Then with that, she dismissed Mordred from her room and had her close the door behind her. The knight had felt like a stupid child all over again, so she had instantly left Castle Tintagel to hunt bandits down to vent her rage out on them.
Ever since that meeting, Mother had gone right back to how she had always been; interacting with Mordred only when she absolutely had to, ignored her at supper, stopped seeing her training, and seemed even colder to her if that had been possible. Somehow this was worse than physical punishment or bellowed chastisements that the Green Knight gave her, because at least there was an explanation or point behind it. But it was almost like Mother was waiting for an excuse to stop interacting with her and what better excuse than to withhold affection or attention as punishment for her defiance?
Finally, the time had come for the two when they were to leave Castle. King Mark and Queen Iseult had Mordred and her Mother have supper with them one last time the where Mother informed the King and Queen that King Lot had sent a letter to them, including a new one from Queen Guinevere herself.
The letter from Lot was to inform them that he was ready to receive them and informed them not in the Orkney Islands, but in the lands of Lothian where the Picts resided. Though the majority of them were "civilized", there were many who adhered to the old ways of raiding, piracy, raping, and pillaging along the coasts. Mordred was listening carefully as Mother explained that Lot would have an honor guard to escort her and Mordred safely to Din Eidyn, his castle stronghold.
"Which brings me to the letter from Guinevere herself."
"Queen Guinevere.", corrected Iseult politely, looking at Mother directly as she said this.
"Of course, Queen Guinevere.", answered Morgan le Fay with cool curtesy, "The letter stated that she wished to bind up wounds from the past and reconnect to my dear brother, King Arthur. The details of her prose and speech are unimportant, save for the fact that she informs me that Sir Gawain, Sir Agravain, Squire Gaheris, and a contingent of guards from King Arthur will also provide escort to Lot's honor guard. It will warm my heart to see family and to bind up wounds. Furthermore… my son will be able to meet his half-brothers and meet with Gareth when we arrive to Din Eidyn. It will do him wonders to meet with sibling's he's long been separated from."
"Feh!", snorted Mark as if he knew and didn't care, "Well, just so long as you are out of my castle before the sun sets tomorrow. Mordred has served here faithfully and nobly, so I won't have you turned out with nothing. A sum of silver, strong steeds, and arms for the knight will be provided for you to see to your safe departure."
As ever, Mark was prickly, yet he had these odd moments of rationality, and despite her own dislike for the man, Mordred thanked him with proper courtesy while still reeling from the revelation that she was related to famous Round Table Knights and one of them was the Knight of the Sun himself. Mordred couldn't wait to meet him, nor her other newfound brothers. The king waved his hand dismissively and after supper was ended, Mordred was sent to finish packing her things.
/~/
Mordred at first couldn't concentrate on her packing as she was practically bouncing with excitement she had not felt since first laying her eyes on King Arthur. She was related to Round Table Knights, and famous ones at that! She was practically in already! But then a knock came at her door and she opened it after calming herself down enough to compose herself.
"Sir Bertilak!"
The Green Knight nodded, looking oddly solemn as he said, "Mordred, come outside with me."
"But I need to pack still-"
"That can wait.", said the Green Knight sternly, "We must talk and I will not have another chance to do this."
Confused and somewhat annoyed at the vagueness, Mordred threw on her hooded cloak and followed the massive knight all the way to the training yard, with neither of them saying a word. It was very late at night, but the moon was full and bright enough to illuminate them.
The Green Knight had his back turned to his former squire and then he turned sharply.
Mordred had already caught the stone he had thrown at her head on pure instinct and though she winced from the force of the throw in her unprotected hand, she still threw it back fast enough to collide with another one in midair. It practically turned the other stone to dust as it smacked the Green Knight in the middle of his forehead and left a burnt circle. The Green Knight laughed loudly and stumbled a bit before regaining his footing, "Ahh… looks like my training you has come full circle. You finally got me back. Your instincts are honed, your mana control didn't vaporize the damn thing, and you reacted in self-defense."
"So what was the point of this?", asked Mordred.
"Ahh Mordred…", the Green Knight sighed ruefully, "Always wanting to know the point of something. Well… think of it as the prelude to a final lesson."
He let that hang there for Mordred to ponder, but she saw that for the first time Sir Bertilak was not letting the statement hang for the sake of it. He was truly trying to ponder the words to say. Eventually, the Green Knight simply decided to go through with his first thoughts.
"You can still say, "no"."
What did he mean by that? What could she possibly say no to?
"What… what do you mean by that?"
"I mean that you can still say "no" to this."
He pointed to the two of them and all around, "This. You can stop if you want to now. Knighthood and all it entails, all that your Mother has in mind for you, it can all stop now if you so desire."
It took a moment for Mordred to try to process what he was saying. None of this was making sense, what was he talking about? It was confusing her and starting to get on her nerves as Sir Bertilak continued, "Mordred, you can put a stop to all this now. You don't have to be a knight and you don't have to go through with what Morgan le Fay wants you to. All you have to do is tell the truth of who you are. It will strip you of your knighthood, but I swear I will protect you-"
"NO!", shouted Mordred and she felt as if her legs were about to give out from under her. The sheer enormity of this was almost enough to take her breath away, "I don't know what you're talking about! I'm the son of Morgan le Fay! I was knighted by you for defeating the Brown Knight and rescuing my mother! I've fought beside you, rode with you, squired for you, and performed all that was asked of me better than anybody you ever knew! I'm the first squire who ever passed your training and lived through your damned tricks!"
"Mordred-"
"I don't know what you're talking about! Just stop it!", Mordred cut him off and turned to leave, not wanting to hear anymore.
But the Green Knight caught up to her easily and forcefully turned her around before grasping her with his huge hands and making her face him.
"LISTEN TO ME!", he gripped her so hard that it began to hurt and yet he seemed to be the one more distressed, "If you go through with this, your life will be full of misery. Nobody will know the real you and not a single person will care! Even if you achieve all that you wish and join King Arthur's Round Table, you will be isolated from all the others and be in the king's shadow forever. But if you tell the truth now, if you tell Mark who you really are-"
"I know who I am!", spat Mordred as she struggled so fiercely that she actually kicked him hard enough for the knight to escape his loosened hold. She panted slightly as she stood up and her green eyes shone in the moonlight, "I know who I am… I'm a Knight of the Round Table. I will live for King Arthur, kill for King Arthur and I will die for him if I have to! I. AM. SIR MORDRED! AND I KNOW WHO I AM!"
Sir Bertilak towered over Mordred and stared down at the younger knight, practically shaking with fury as his former squire stared back at him in equal fury. With a frustrated shout, the Green Knight ripped out his axe from its loop handle and smashed a wooden table next to Mordred who didn't even flinch.
"God damn you and your bloody STUBBORNESS!", shouted the Green Knight, uncaring of who might be listening. He smashed the tables and anything else within reach until there was kindling enough to last a month before he threw his axe into the ground so hard that it shook the ground and caused the ground to cave in, even shaking the castle from the sheer force of the blow.
Sir Bertilak collected himself enough to calm down and he used his mana to repair the earth with fresh soil and green grass until the damage was undone. Mordred in this whole time stood her ground and her former Master walked up to her once more.
"Fine! Do whatever you want! I can only pray that those fools at Camelot are as stupid sods in real life as those bloody stories you like to read. If you can fool them and Arthur, then perhaps that place deserves to be brought to ruin if they can't even tell who you are… girl."
Mordred felt herself reaching for her sword, yanking it out, and pointing the tip under Sir Bertilak's face before she even had a moment to think about it. Her face had a shadow over it as she struggled to loosen her jaw enough to speak with her vision turning red.
"Don't...", she finally said with her voice almost inaudible for the anger she felt in her, "call me that."
For a second, the Green Knight wasn't looking at the face of Mordred, but of Morgan le Fay. As he looked down at the cold fury, he knew that it was pointless. His former squire would not listen to anything he had to say for breaching the barrier that he had taken pains to avoid breaking.
Morgan le Fay had him indebted to her via an ancient Geas, which she had obtained after the former king Vortigern's defeat at the hands of Gawain and Arthur. She had him oath-bound to train King Arthur's killer with three conditions.
He must never make his trials impossible to complete and only if Mordred gave up completely would he be released from training her.
He must never tell the truth of why he accepted Mordred as his squire in any way, shape, form, or concept.
He will train her to the best of his abilities.
The magic binding this oath was of the strongest kind and so in desperation Sir Bertilak had sought to save the girl he had come to care for and even respect for her tenacity and refusal to give up no matter what. He could not tell her the truth nor could he force Mordred to tell the truth, but if she gave up her identity and outed herself as a female, all of Morgan le Fay's plans would collapse.
Sure it would end Mordred's dream, cause untold damage that would surely cause Mordred to hate him, and perhaps even prompt her mother to do something utterly terrible. But to the Green Knight, it would be worth it to save the homunculus from certain doom. But her dream to serve King Arthur and her admiration for him was stronger than he had previously thought, so much so that she was willing be completely blind to the darkness that was sure to come to her future.
To Sir Bertilak, Mordred was determined to go down the path to damnation and he could do nothing to stop it.
"You think you know who you are eh?", he finally said in a low voice before grabbing the blade with one huge hand, ignoring the green ichor that oozed out and ran down the length of the weapon. He suddenly seemed to grow bigger as sharpened brambles appeared around his thick arms and legs, his eyes glowing like orbs of green flames as he squeezed the sword so hard that cracks started to form, "Very well, Sir Mordred. Go! Fulfill your dream. But know this; a dream must end when the dreamer…"
CRACK
"awakens."
Then with the broken sword in his hand, he tossed it over his shoulder as his bleeding hand healed itself before he walked around Mordred and left her behind in the training yard. The knight stared down at her blade before she realized that she had been shivering without realizing it.
'stupid, weak, girl'
Those words were as good as a stab in the back, though her former master had not said those words exactly, the damage was done. The Green Knight had broken a taboo between them and Mordred would never forgive that. So she threw down her broken sword and stormed out of the training yard. But as the moonlight shined down on the broken blade's two pieces, they were still connected by a patch of green grass.
/~/
The gates cranked open loudly as the next morning saw Mordred and her mother departing Tintagle Castle on horseback. She was dressed in white riding breeches with knee-high black boots, a plain-white tabard over a mail shirt, thick brown gloves, and a brown cloak with a hood. Mordred had found that another sword had been given to her in a black lacquered sheathe with a plain an unadorned blade, cross guard, and black leather-wrapped handle. Mother had also used her magic to shrink their few personal possessions into saddlebags that were placed on their horses. She herself was dressed in her blue and black dress as always with her own brown riding cloak as the only thing to conceal her. Mother sat comfortably on her black steed, her eyes gazing towards the horizon.
The pair would ride forth until they met at the designated halfway point between Camelot and Lothian where they would meet their escort at the site of Stonehenge. The Green Knight was absent on business of his own according to King Mark, who looked grouchy as usual. Queen Iseult had graciously bid the pair farewell, even going so far as to bequeath a queenly kiss onto Mordred's forehead before the knight mounted her horse to depart.
"If…. If fate allows it and you see Sir Tristan. ", she had whispered to her, "I ask of you, Sir Mordred, please let him know that I am grateful to you for all your service here and that I miss him."
Mordred felt quite touched by this and she swore that she would do this. She had felt a little sad to say farewell to Queen Iseult. She had always spoken kindly to her and treated her as if she had always been a knight. She had even kept an embroidery in her pack that Queen Iseult handmade for her. It was an embroidery of a red lion roaring on top of a hill. Her Mother looked straight ahead with not even a single glance back urged her horse on with Mordred following after her at a canter.
Mordred felt like she should have said something, perhaps give words of gratitude to the queen and king for their hospitality, but Mother sharply ordered her to follow her as Mordred looked over her shoulder at Tintagel Castle once more before the knight threw on the hood of her cloak and followed her Mother.
For hours they rode in silence under an overcast sky with thunder rumbling overhead. In the stories it was said that the sounds that giants made was like the thunder and when Mordred said so in an attempt to break the silence, Mother told her that it was so. But when asked if she had ever met a giant in person, Mother replied, "Yes. The giant met its end when it met me."
But when prompted for more, Mother had gone silent and ignored Mordred. The knight grunted in irritation before she followed in silence. Stonehenge was far away, but after several hours of travel including a break in between for luncheon, Mother had them pull off the road and into a forest until they were well-concealed in its trees. Mother's tattoos shone again and she whispered an incantation that caused her eyes to shine light emerald lights and her tattoos to shine like rubies.
Mordred's horse began to stamp and whinny with fright while her mother's mare stood as immobile as a statue. She was able to maintain a hold on her mare and attempted to calm her down when the shadows of the trees slid across the ground like spilt ink and covered both Mordred, her mother, and their horses. Mordred's eyes were shut as all her senses were blocked off as the shadows covered them.
The sound of a roaring wind was suddenly heard and suddenly all her senses came back at once in a sudden rush that caused her to lean down on her horse before panting as if she had been holding her breath. The world was spinning slightly and the knight nearly fell off her horse as she asked between breaths what had happened.
"A spell for displacement that allows us to move from one location to another in no time at all.", replied her Mother as she dismounted her steed before pointing with a single finger where they were.
There were no villages nor people around for miles and people tended to shun the location where powerful magic resided; Stonehenge. It was said to have been originally built by Druids, but Mordred was informed that it was in fact a ritual site that Merlin had commissioned. The original purpose of it was unknown save for Merlin himself, but he had all but abandoned the site and left it be. But Mother told her that the site and surroundings for miles around had mana embedded into it with Stonehenge being the focal point.
There didn't look to be any means of sheltering and they had no camping materials, but Morgan le Fay told her to be quiet when Mordred raised her concerns so she could concentrate. She dismounted her horse with practiced grace before reaching into her horse's saddlebag to retrieve a small item. Then she started walking forward into the trees until she reached inside a glade of trees. The wind blew at her cloak until it revealed her face and let her long hair flow freely out like a beautiful ribbon. Her dress flapped slightly as she bent down and drew a symbol into the ground and once more whispered some words before sinking the small item she took into the ground. Then before the symbol began to glow and caused Morgan le Fay to step back before the ground began to tremble.
Then the ground began to sink into itself before it gathered together into a massive clump of torn trees, grass, stone, and mud. Morgan le Fay made a gesture with her hand and spoke another strange word that caused the massive clump to begin taking a cylindrical and cubic shape. The clump began to spread and expand as more of the earth was claimed to aid in the construction of a mass that soon became a recognizable shape. Then within moments, Morgan le Fay spoke softly and with another gesture of her hand the mass had become similar to the cottage in which Mordred had been born. However, this cottage was smaller and the materials that were used to build had left it with a fresh, earthy smell. Wood, stone, and mud had constructed it to be a suitable habitat for the night as Morgan le Fay approached the entrance, she told Mordred to bring their bags inside and to hitch their steeds on a side-stable that the cottage had to shelter them.
The knight dismounted with a curt response, irritated by her Mother giving orders when she had spent most of the day ignoring her. She brought their bags to the door fashioned out of wood and stone before deliberately leaving them on what she guessed was the "doorstep" before leaving to hitch the horses and took her time to feed them.
The bags were no longer outside when she returned and she walked inside to see that Mother had used her magic to make the temporary cottage more homelike. It was a single wide area with only two beds, a chair, and a wash basin as they were not going to stay for long. The floor was the wood from the trees that had been flattened and smoothed out via magic to provide a comfortable walking surface. Mother was already resting with her eyes closed and her veiled crown resting on the single chair beside her.
Mordred took off her cloak and took off her boots before she untied the string that held her hair in its small ponytail and then lay down on her own bed with her sword resting next to her within easy reach. Tomorrow she would be able to meet with Sir Gawain, Sir Agravain, Gaheris, and eventually Gareth. She had never known what it was like to have siblings, but she felt excited nonetheless at being able to meet knights who stood in King Arthur's presence. She thought of how she would measure up to them, but then she remembered the Green Knight and the sundering of their relationship. The hurt came back to her as her thoughts went to pondering just why he had spoken that way to her and why he was suddenly so determined to stamp out her dream.
Then a light rain began to fall and the sound as it hit the grass-thatched roof the knight was lulled into sleep as she wondered if she would have more of her dreams of King Arthur and Camelot.
/~/
The Assassin Knight
Rain began to pour strongly and lightning flashed across the sky as an armored figure covered in a black cloak rode through the night. Though it was nearly impossible to see for an ordinary person, the assassin knew how to fight in the elements such as these and in fact preferred it. The rain and the thunder deafened the sound of his steed's whinnying as he reached Stonehenge along with the clinking of chains that rested along his right hip and the halberd slung across his back. He reached into a pouch and fumbled around for a moment. His armor was painted black to hide himself and prevent any recognition from any onlookers. There was almost no chance of such a thing occurring on a stormy night such as this, but he didn't want to take any chances.
He had only one goal in mind for which all his thoughts were bent towards for his king.
The murder of Morgan le Fay before she reached Lothian.
Finally, he found what he had searched for and in his gauntleted hand he pulled out a small glass bottle in which a bug flitted and beat against in an attempt to escape. He opened the bottle with a pop and the bug eagerly escaped before the assassin covered the precious tool with his hand to shield it from the rain.
"Morgan le Fay.", he spoke in harsh grating tones over the rain.
The bug suddenly began to glow a bright blue and opened its multicolored wings before flying into the sky and leaving behind a trail of golden dust that were visible to his eyes only. Only at Stonehenge could the Hunter Beetle be used to any effect, especially against a witch like Morgan le Fay whom would have taken precautions to conceal herself until she wished to be found. Sir Gawain and the others would depart from their camps and meet her and her son Mordred there, so it was imperative to find her beforehand and kill her.
He had magical chains with which to bind her, armor to protect himself from her magic, and a magical weapon capable of slaying her. Additionally, he knew his quarry well enough that she would likely be tired from traveling long because she had a meticulous need for adhering to an agreed-upon meeting place. The Hunter Beetle flew away from Stonehenge and shot straight towards a glade of trees to the assassin's left.
He urged his horse on and followed the Hunter Beetle through the tall grass before the lightning flashes illuminated a small cottage hidden within a glade with the Hunter Beetle's golden dust leading him on. Outside the line of trees, he dismounted his horse with a loud squelch from the soaked earth. His chains rattled, but he counted on the thunder and rainfall to muffle his sounds.
Carefully he made his way forward. His halberd would be worthless in the group of trees, but once he got close he would enter loudly and violently to startle the witch before he would drive the spear tip from his weapon through her black heart. His breath was loud in his great helm hidden under the cloak's hood, but then another thunder and lightning flash cracked overhead just before he stepped out into the glade. A pair of horses were startled by the sound and they began to roar and whinny in fright. He cursed under his breath in fear that this would surely wake Morgan le Fay and make his attempt to kill her that much harder.
The cottage door opened and in the darkness he could make out a figure exiting the cottage to calm the horses down with a handheld oil lamp that shadowed their face. He couldn't tell from the distance he was at if it was Morgan or her son Mordred. He would rather not kill the young knight if it could be helped, but he would do so if it meant his mother died too. But the figure had left the door opened and after a moment's hesitation he decided that he would kill whomever it was that was with the horses first before going inside.
The figure's back was turned to them as they patted the horses soothed them with soft words as the assassin plucked his chains from his hip and wrapped them around his right forearm. Then he let the chain extend down until he held it in the other hand and held it taut to silence it's clinking sounds. The assassin walked forward as thunder and lightning flashed again before he moved in for the kill and got right behind the figure to strangle them with his chains. The black horse whinnied loudly and lashed out with its hoof to catch him square in this breastplate causing him to grunt as he was knocked back and rolled to get right back to his feet. The figure turned to see him and lightning flashed as he cracked his chain like a whip, moving it far more flexibly and fluidly than any chain had a right to.
"Who are you!?", cried the figure in surprise before dodging the chain as it lashed out at him.
The chain struck like a whip again and shredded the ground, but the darkness and the rain as well as the surprising agility of the figure made it hard for the assassin to pick him out. The oil lamp was flung at the assassin but the chains lashed out again and shattered it in midair. But the oil and flames splattered onto the assassin before engulfing him in flames despite the rain.
He flailed a little in surprise and panic as the figure sprinted into the house and yelled, "Mother! Wake up!"
The assassin flung off his burning cloak and into the trees as the oil caused them to catch fire as well and illuminate him. The assassin was in plate armor like a knight, but with no heradly, no decoration, no adornment, and no markings of any kind. His great helm had a cylindrical shape with narrow slits for eyes and vents for him to breathe.
With a yell in frustration the assassin knight cracked his chain like a whip again before it began to glow as if heated with veins of lava. The chain lashed out at the cottage with enough heat to split it in two, but it bounced back before it could even touch it as an emerald color wall of magic blocked him! Of course, Morgan le Fay was now alerted to him, but the assassin knight was determined to go through with his mission. So he cracked at it again over and over, his chain moving like a blur as he hammered away at it.
/~/
Mordred
Mother was placing her palm against the wall of the cottage towards the man intent on murdering her while Mordred got her sword.
"Child.", said Mother with a slight strain on her voice, "I won't be able to hold this forever."
Despite the tenseness between them, Mordred was determined to not let any harm come to her Mother so she nodded and said, "I'll protect you Mother, I swear it! I won't lose you to this… this coward!"
Then she waited until there was a moment of pause between attacks before she rocketed out of the cottage with a burst of mana, red lighting crackling behind her as she let out a roar and slashed at the assassin knight. Her cloak flapped behind her like wings while her hood prevented the rain from blocking her vision He grunted as he blocked her blade with his chain while Mordred began a furious assault, sparks flying as she attacked him from any direction she could. He was fully armored so she was not able to get through him with her blade as he blocked her every strike.
This was no mere bandit, but a person who clearly knew how to fight. He was using his size and his armor to his full advantage as attacks that got past his guard wasn't able to hurt him in his vital spots. So she opted for the unorthodox method and slipped past a heavy blow from his fist to kick him as hard as she could in his knee. But the dark and rain spoiled her aim, causing her to miss and she received a vicious backhand to her ribs for the mistake. She almost felt something crack in her as she tumbled away on the ground, her soaked cloak sticking to her as she rose up to block another chain strike that almost shook her sword from her grip.
She cursed and ignored her burning side to get back in and continue the close assault. The Assassin Knight would only be able to block or to use his fists on her if she got close. Anything beyond her in-your-face attacks would only invite him to use his chains. She battered three quick attacks before she went for the gaps in his armor, using her smaller size and quicker footwork to dodge his attacks.
But the Assassin Knight guarded his weak spots and continued to allow his armor to absorb the blows that slipped past him. Then when a lucky strike slipped past his chain, his great helm took the strike and though it didn't penetrate, it rattled his head enough to make him stumble. He let out a frustrated bellow before he spun his chains around him like a tornado to force Mordred back. The young knight ducked, leapt, and tumbled over the chain to avoid the strikes. But her instincts quickly began to catch a pattern that the Assassin Knight was employing as her body continued to dodge the strikes.
Mordred ducked under another swipe that would've taken off her head before she charged mana in her sword. Red lightning crackled around the blade before she let out a yell and cleaved the chain with an overhead strike. The assassin knight was surprised by this despite his helm concealing his face as he pulled his chain back, but Mordred was not able to savor this victory as the assassin knight quickly recovered enough and threw his chain at her as lightning flashed again. She was yanked off her feet when the chain had wrapped itself and her hands around a large tree to pin her in place. It was so wide around that even two of her would not be able to fully wrap around it.
Mordred yelled and struggled, but she couldn't yank herself free from the chain. The assassin knight panted slightly before he turned his attention to the cottage and plucked his halberd from his back. Red lines shone on the weapon all the way from the tip of its shaft to the point of the spear. Mordred could see over her shoulder that the knight was now turning his back to her and beginning to attack her Mother's barrier.
"Ah! Ungh…! EGH! AAAAAHHH…!"
The young knight could only yell in helpless frustration as she tried to twist and slip out of the chains, but her hands were bound together and despite her mana giving her strength, she couldn't break her binds either!
The Assassin Knight continued his barrage on Mother's barrier without pause before the sound of breaking glass was heard over the assault. Mordred looked over her shoulder frantically again to see that the assassin was making progress and breaking through! Mother was in danger! She was going to lose her Mother! Despite how much she despised her cold attitude, her lack of warmth, her seeming disdain for her, Mordred still loved Morgan le Fay and would not, could not simply abandon her to being murdered while she was helpless to protect her.
She finally looked at the tree and saw that there was a gap that gave her a little room to jump. Mordred concentrated her mana again and she leapt up to kick at the tree before letting it out with a burst as her feet connected to the tree. Scorch marks appeared on it and cracking sounds snapped through the air. Mordred was feeling tired from her fight and from using her mana like this, but she did the same thing again and again, causing the tree to shake as burn marks and cracks formed.
The assassin knight was completely ignoring her now in favor of breaking through the witch's barrier and he could tell he was making progress by the spider-web of cracks that were appearing in the magical barrier.
'Pathetic.', came the voice of Morgan le Fay. Though his ears were full of the pouring of rain, the hammering of his halberd against the witch's barrier, and his breath coming out in heavy huffs, he could hear the voice of his intended victim clear as if she were whispering in his ear.
'You think you can kill me? You are struggling against a far inferior opponent despite all your gifts and your training.'
"Shut up.", he grunted as he rammed the tip of his halberd at the barrier.
'You will never be able to kill me. That goal is beyond you.'
"Shut up!"
'To think that somebody as skilled as you in deception and assassination would be losing… to a woman. How cute.'
" SHUT UUUUUP…!"
The Assassin Knight bellowed his fury at Morgan le Fay's taunts before he smashed his halberd's axe head down on the barrier with every ounce of strength he had. But his anger had gotten the better of him and he was deaf to the even louder cracking of the tree behind him as he finally shattered the barrier with a burst of his own mana and hate.
"AAAAAAH!"
Mordred had freed herself as the tree fell over and she used the momentum to free her hands from the chains before using her nearly depleted burst of mana to charge the Assassin Knight as he flung open the door to the cottage with one hand.
Mordred had held her sword out like a spear as she attempted to run him through with her sword, but missed running him through the gap between his faulds and breastplate because he had turned just in the nick of time. But doing so had caused Mordred to cut at the gap in his back and drew blood as it got caught into the cottage, sinking nearly up to the handle. The Assassin Knight yelled in pain at this, but he swapped over to his other hand while turning and nearly spun in a full circle to smash the flat of his halberd's axe head onto Mordred's side to knock her flat on the back, successfully breaking the ribs he had cracked earlier from the brute strength he had.
The Assassin Knight panted hard, his breath coming out in steam through the vents in his armor as Mordred sat up, her hood falling back as she meant to continue the fight. But the Assassin Knight rushed over stomped on her chest to pin her to the ground as he held the tip of his halberd's spear tip at her throat. But just then the moonlight shone through the rainclouds and illuminated the glade. The Assassin Knight was panting and he gasped as he took in the full sight of Mordred's face.
For a long moment, Mordred and he just stared at each other. The younger knight was not going to die begging and pleading for mercy as she glared at him with hate at him and her own weakness. The Assassin Knight continued to look down on her, his arm now beginning to tremble slightly as his gaze continued to hold. He looked lost in thought and Mordred took advantage of this to draw the dagger her Mother had given her so long ago from her belt and stabbed it into the back of the knight's unarmored knee. The man grunted and stepped away to allow Mordred to roll out of the way and step between him and the cottage.
The knight growled and turned with his uninjured arm holding his halberd at her, but Mordred had pulled out her sword from the cottage and held it in front of her despite her broken ribs. The rain was now a light drizzle as she panted, "You… won't… hurt… her."
The knights stared at each other before the assassin knight jabbed at Mordred again in one more attempt to get her to stand aside, but he seemed less sure of himself, as if he wasn't sure whether or not to continue, or maybe he had simply lost the heart to continue this.
"I… must.", he finally said, "For the King of Knights."
In any case, both were injured and the assassin knight knew that if this continued both would end up dead before Morgan le Fay would. Mordred felt the heat of battle and the rush of blood go cold as the man spoke. For a moment she couldn't believe what she was hearing.
The man was trying to murder her mother on King Arthur's behalf!?
Then with another growl of disgust and defeat, the assassin knight stood up straight and put away his halberd. Then he sharply turned away despite his wounds and he began to walk away.
"H-hey!", Mordred called out as her enemy continued to walk away and retrieve his cloak and broken chains, "Coward!"
Though it wasn't knightly to attack a man while his back was turned, Mordred took off after her enemy, but the assassin fled into the grove of trees and Mordred saw him leap onto his horse before it took off.
Mordred jogged back to the stables in an attempt to pursue, so angry was she at her defeat before she doubled over as the act of breathing was now beginning to get difficult and she stumbled forward as she began to cough, which only made her broken ribs hurt more.
"Enough."
Morgan le Fay stood at the entrance of the cottage with another oil lamp and beckoned Mordred to return to her in a tone that brooked no argument. Mordred stood up and held her side as she walked back to the cottage, wet and exhausted. The assassin knight, whoever he was, had her dead to rights and could have slain her, but the instant he got a good look at her, she could feel hesitation and uncertainty from him. Why did he not take the chance to kill her before moving to kill Mother? Mordred pondered this as her mother had her take off her shirt. It clung to her and her hair dripped water as she took off her shirt and winced when her mother prodded the side where she had been hit.
There was a nasty bruise on her side, but when Mother held her hand over it, she spoke some words and it felt hot before it quickly became easier to breathe and her broken ribs were repaired.
"Thank you Mother.", Mordred said after a moment as she shivered from the cold of the rain. Mother was staring at her nearly bare body and reached out to touch the healed area, her hand lingering for a moment as she traced the hard muscles and the outline of the ribs of Mordred. Then as if snapping out of a trance, Mother told her to sit on the chair next to her bed before she looked her over and retrieved a cloth to begin drying her off.
"You…", began Mother as she dried her hair and began to work on her back. Mordred expected fully for her to chastise her in some way and felt herself ready to speak before Mother finished, "You fought well considering that the assassin was sent by King Arthur."
Mordred didn't know what to say to this, but found herself speaking tonelessly.
"He said… he said he was doing this on the behalf of the King of Knights."
Mordred was still reeling from this and felt so lost and confused. The man… he had to be lying. He HAD to! Mother had always warned her that King Arthur was her enemy and that he would have them both killed. But it didn't make sense. Why go through the trouble of providing an escort only to have them killed?
The young knight was lost in thought and she shuddered as her mother dried her front before she said, "I have always said so that King Arthur was the enemy you must defeat. It is you who must bring him down and take his place. You have merely faced the first of his assassins and it won't be the last."
"I will protect you Mother. I know we don't always see eye-to-eye, but I don't want to lose you. I love you Mother."
The older woman stopped drying Mordred and stood up. Silence filled the air before she told her, "Dress yourself in dry clothes and sleep in my bed. I will watch over you."
Mordred obeyed, but felt very conscious as her Mother watched her, wishing she was looking away as she changed into dry breeches and a plain shirt. Then under her mother's gaze, she got into the blankets and soft feathered pillow, taking in the scent of her mother. Mordred felt tired as she closed her eyes and her mother began to hum an old lullaby she had not heard in so long.
"The darkness will rise from the deep and carry you down into sleep…"
Then Mordred felt her mother lean over her and felt her hand trail from her forehead to her chin and down to her neck before darkness claimed her and she went to sleep.
/~/
Morgan le Fay withdrew her hand from the sleeping form of Mordred and stared down at her sleeping child. She had the appearance of a strong 13-year old, but she had at most been alive for only four years. The words, "I love you Mother.", were something she had not heard from Mordred in a long time. Mordred had fought the assassin with all her strength to keep her safe and she felt that a familiar sense of dismay at the sincerity in her words. Mordred still loved her and truly believed she was keeping her safe. Despite being tired from teleporting a long distance, Morgan le Fay could have easily killed the assassin herself if she so desired. But this too was useful in order for her to hide her true strength.
She was not blind to the similarity between her and King Arthur- no… Artoria. Mordred's body was fast resembling her father and she was even beginning to have the barest forming of breasts. Memories of her last tryst with her sister had been more for domination that the erotic, but she could not deny that she had very much enjoyed the physical act as well. She held no affection still for Mordred, physical or otherwise, but she still could feel a sense of pride for the homunculus as a result of her genius.
Given a little more time, Mordred would be stronger and she would infiltrate Camelot. Then at her behest, Mordred would kill King Arthur. Dawn was still far off, but Morgan le Fay felt no need to rest and instead looked down at the face that so resembled Artoria and smiled as she recalled their coupling.
Immortal: And there it is! Hopefully it won't take me too long to update the next chapter, but also my dear readers...
Would you prefer chapters of this length or something shorter?
In any case, please review this story, favorite, and follow, and please check out "Something Lost, Something Found" and I'll see you folks around!
