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tamingthemuseTitle: Survival
Fandom: Original (based on the Arthurian Legends)
Prompt: Prompt 322 - That which does not kill us makes us old and cranky before our time
Warnings: None.
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: "Why can't you just be nice?"
Bedwyr and Mordred were sitting in the living room of the younger man. The latter was reading a book about the arthurian legends while the former was simply staring at the wall in front of him. Mordred had been engrossed in his book for hours, taking notes once in a while on his notebook when suddenly he closed the book.
"Why are you always in a bad mood," he asked.
"What," mumble Bedwyr obviously unhappy of having been disturbed.
"Exactly that? Why can't you just be nice?"
"Look who's asking," he replied sarcastically.
"I've changed," answered the young man calmly.
"Well, I haven't." After those words, Bedwyr got up and disappear out of the apartment.
Mordred stared at the door in dismay. That hasn't been the reaction he had been looking for, though he should probably have expected it. In most of the book he had read he had found Bedwyr to be always too cranky and almost mean at time. It was strange to see him depicted along the same lines while everybody else seemed to be so volatile in their character.
He put his book and notebook away in the drawer next to his chair and got up. There was no point wondering more about Bedwyr for tonight. The older knight didn't need him to worry about his well-beings or his whereabouts. He would always be fine. He always had been in the end.
---*---
Bedwyr slipped his hands in his trouser's pocket. He really shouldn't have dashed off in the streets without taking his jacket, the nights were becoming too chilly for that sort of thing, but it was too late to turn back now. Mordred would say it was just another example of his grumpiness, and facing that kind of comments was the last thing he wanted to do.
He had already thought about his grumpiness before. He had even tried once or twice to be nicer to people but never succeeded. Being cranky was part of who he was. Admittedly it was a choice but that was the best one he had been able to find and it had always helped him avoid question like Mordred's one.
He didn't want to explain why he had chosen that attitude because he knew it would mean revisiting old wounds. People thought it was marvelous to have been a knight, to have known Arthur, to have lived with him, within his dreamed kingdom. And they were right, sometimes. What they never mentioned, never even thought about was the rest of the time though and that was what Bedwyr couldn't stop thinking about. He had lived through terrible battles, he had slashed through the skin of mere boy, killing them before they could know much of the joys on this earth. He had watched Arthur's dream fall to piece, burned down to ashes, and Arthur blood sipping through his hand. He had been the one that had had to live through the time after Arthur. Guinevere had had it easy in her convent. He had had to face the world, to explain to people what had happen, to face their pain and anger. He had been the one that was left to fix everything and he had failed. Arthur's dream never came back to life, not even for a second.
So yes he was cranky, grumpy, and always in a bad mood. It was easier that way. He could block all of his feelings under that mask and wait patiently until the end once more.
Fandom: Original (based on the Arthurian Legends)
Prompt: Prompt 322 - That which does not kill us makes us old and cranky before our time
Warnings: None.
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: "Why can't you just be nice?"
Bedwyr and Mordred were sitting in the living room of the younger man. The latter was reading a book about the arthurian legends while the former was simply staring at the wall in front of him. Mordred had been engrossed in his book for hours, taking notes once in a while on his notebook when suddenly he closed the book.
"Why are you always in a bad mood," he asked.
"What," mumble Bedwyr obviously unhappy of having been disturbed.
"Exactly that? Why can't you just be nice?"
"Look who's asking," he replied sarcastically.
"I've changed," answered the young man calmly.
"Well, I haven't." After those words, Bedwyr got up and disappear out of the apartment.
Mordred stared at the door in dismay. That hasn't been the reaction he had been looking for, though he should probably have expected it. In most of the book he had read he had found Bedwyr to be always too cranky and almost mean at time. It was strange to see him depicted along the same lines while everybody else seemed to be so volatile in their character.
He put his book and notebook away in the drawer next to his chair and got up. There was no point wondering more about Bedwyr for tonight. The older knight didn't need him to worry about his well-beings or his whereabouts. He would always be fine. He always had been in the end.
---*---
Bedwyr slipped his hands in his trouser's pocket. He really shouldn't have dashed off in the streets without taking his jacket, the nights were becoming too chilly for that sort of thing, but it was too late to turn back now. Mordred would say it was just another example of his grumpiness, and facing that kind of comments was the last thing he wanted to do.
He had already thought about his grumpiness before. He had even tried once or twice to be nicer to people but never succeeded. Being cranky was part of who he was. Admittedly it was a choice but that was the best one he had been able to find and it had always helped him avoid question like Mordred's one.
He didn't want to explain why he had chosen that attitude because he knew it would mean revisiting old wounds. People thought it was marvelous to have been a knight, to have known Arthur, to have lived with him, within his dreamed kingdom. And they were right, sometimes. What they never mentioned, never even thought about was the rest of the time though and that was what Bedwyr couldn't stop thinking about. He had lived through terrible battles, he had slashed through the skin of mere boy, killing them before they could know much of the joys on this earth. He had watched Arthur's dream fall to piece, burned down to ashes, and Arthur blood sipping through his hand. He had been the one that had had to live through the time after Arthur. Guinevere had had it easy in her convent. He had had to face the world, to explain to people what had happen, to face their pain and anger. He had been the one that was left to fix everything and he had failed. Arthur's dream never came back to life, not even for a second.
So yes he was cranky, grumpy, and always in a bad mood. It was easier that way. He could block all of his feelings under that mask and wait patiently until the end once more.
