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tamingthemuseTitle: Marching forward
Fandom: Original (based on the Arthurian Legends)
Prompt: #281 - A stitch in time
Warnings: Reincarnation theme.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The Arthurian Legends are in the public domain. I make no reference to any copyrighted work. So all is mine.
Beta: None, so any mistakes you see are mine.
Summary: Mordred reflects on his new found goal in life.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Mordred stared at the sentence displayed on one of the advert of the magazine he was reading. It was for some sort of new kitchen tool that was supposed to save a lot of time when needing to slice vegetables in little pieces. He didn't care much for the machine but somehow he couldn't tear his eyes away from the catch phrase.
He hadn't heard that saying for years and years. He wasn't even sure the last time had been in this life. It was strange to see it now, in front of him as if it was reminding him that it was about time that he had decided to change his lives and take actions to make amends. It was as if the advert had been made for him to tell him he was finally on the right track after so many wasted lives.
Mordred closed the magazine, not wanting to see the advert any longer. The sentence felt like an encouragement but also a reprimand and he didn't like the feeling of it. He was so used at self-hatred that he could already sense all the negative thoughts creeping into his brain telling him that his quest was worthless and that he was never going to succeed because he had been Mordred and was still that same bastard boy, hated of all and who couldn't achieve anything of glory without a major downfall for the rest of the world.
He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, forcing his brain to go blank, pushing the negative thoughts away. He could feel his muscles tense at the effort and forced them to relax. He needed to let go of the anger and spite peacefully, he needed to send them away gently. He focused on what was good in his life. He had a steady job, he had a plan, and he almost had a friend in Kay.
His lips formed an unconscious grin at the thought of Kay. The old seneschal would probably yell at him right now for being so weak and letting his emotions get the best of him. And at that thought Mordred already felt better. Kay would have been right if he had been there and said those words. Mordred was too emotional, too easy to manipulate. He needed to grow stronger, to be more sure of himself. And right at that instant he felt like he was, only if just for a little bit, because he had been able to push the self-destructive thoughts away by focusing and thinking of how Kay would have yelled at him. The knight had somehow learned to trust him the past few weeks and Mordred was determined to show himself worthy of that trust. And for that he needed to change, to grow stronger. And he was going to, for his quest, for Arthur, for himself.
Mordred took one more deep breath and stood up. His break was coming to an end and they would soon need him in the kitchens. As he was walking back inside the restaurant he felt lighter, happier, as if he had just won a battle. The war was far from over but he was marching forward.
Fandom: Original (based on the Arthurian Legends)
Prompt: #281 - A stitch in time
Warnings: Reincarnation theme.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The Arthurian Legends are in the public domain. I make no reference to any copyrighted work. So all is mine.
Beta: None, so any mistakes you see are mine.
Summary: Mordred reflects on his new found goal in life.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Mordred stared at the sentence displayed on one of the advert of the magazine he was reading. It was for some sort of new kitchen tool that was supposed to save a lot of time when needing to slice vegetables in little pieces. He didn't care much for the machine but somehow he couldn't tear his eyes away from the catch phrase.
He hadn't heard that saying for years and years. He wasn't even sure the last time had been in this life. It was strange to see it now, in front of him as if it was reminding him that it was about time that he had decided to change his lives and take actions to make amends. It was as if the advert had been made for him to tell him he was finally on the right track after so many wasted lives.
Mordred closed the magazine, not wanting to see the advert any longer. The sentence felt like an encouragement but also a reprimand and he didn't like the feeling of it. He was so used at self-hatred that he could already sense all the negative thoughts creeping into his brain telling him that his quest was worthless and that he was never going to succeed because he had been Mordred and was still that same bastard boy, hated of all and who couldn't achieve anything of glory without a major downfall for the rest of the world.
He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, forcing his brain to go blank, pushing the negative thoughts away. He could feel his muscles tense at the effort and forced them to relax. He needed to let go of the anger and spite peacefully, he needed to send them away gently. He focused on what was good in his life. He had a steady job, he had a plan, and he almost had a friend in Kay.
His lips formed an unconscious grin at the thought of Kay. The old seneschal would probably yell at him right now for being so weak and letting his emotions get the best of him. And at that thought Mordred already felt better. Kay would have been right if he had been there and said those words. Mordred was too emotional, too easy to manipulate. He needed to grow stronger, to be more sure of himself. And right at that instant he felt like he was, only if just for a little bit, because he had been able to push the self-destructive thoughts away by focusing and thinking of how Kay would have yelled at him. The knight had somehow learned to trust him the past few weeks and Mordred was determined to show himself worthy of that trust. And for that he needed to change, to grow stronger. And he was going to, for his quest, for Arthur, for himself.
Mordred took one more deep breath and stood up. His break was coming to an end and they would soon need him in the kitchens. As he was walking back inside the restaurant he felt lighter, happier, as if he had just won a battle. The war was far from over but he was marching forward.
