[identity profile] amaranthine-7.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] tamingthemuse
Title: Non sequitur
Fandom: Arthurian legends
Prompt: Prompt 346 - Non Sequitur
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: The sun was setting over Camelot and the court was getting ready for the festivities of the evening. Mordred had been invited to the banquet but he hadn't made up his mind to go yet.

The sun was setting over Camelot and the court was getting ready for the festivities of the evening. Mordred had been invited to the banquet but he hadn't made up his mind to go yet. He had spent the day hunting in the woods with his favourite horse. He had needed the peace and quiet of the wild after so many weeks stuck in Camelot with nothing to do. Sometimes he wished he could have known the time of the wars. People didn't have time to waste then, things must have had more meaning. He put down the brush he had been using and caressed his horse gently. He always felt horses were easier than humans, everything was so simple for them and yet they succeeded in maintaining an air of dignity and strength.

"What are you doing here still?"

Mordred jumped at the sound so Galahad's voice. He hoped the young man didn't see him. He turned round, his face tense and his grin in place.

"I don't see why it's your business."

"I don't like feasts either. They are too crowded, too noisy," replied Galahad to an unstated answer.

"I didn't say I didn't like feasts." Mordred fists clenched. The other man was getting closer to him, brushing past him in the narrow entrance of the stable. He picked up the brush Mordred had discarded and started to brush the horse again.

"What are you doing here?" He hadn't meant to ask this question, hadn't meant his face to soften for a second at the touch of Galahad.

"I don't like hunting, but I like the woods. They hold so much beauty, much more than this castle." The young man turned his gaze away from the horse and stared right in Mordred's eyes. "Don't you think?"

"Why do you have to be so god damn mysterious," snapped Mordred slapping Galahad's hand away from the horse. The brush flew against the wall at the violence of the gesture.

"I'm not. I'm telling you what I know," replied Galahad softly. He hadn't flinched at the other man gesture, hadn't even seemed surprised. He just kept on smiling.

He took a step closer to Mordred.

"You don't need to be this angry," he told him gently.

Mordred stood frozen in place at the softness and tenderness in Galahad's voice. The young man brushed his cheek with his fingers and walked away.

Mordred stared at the wall for a long minute without moving, unsure of what had happened. People were not nice with him, not like that, not ever.

He stumbled slowly out of the stables, half looking for Galahad. Questions were spinning in his mind, but before he could see anyone, Aggravain hit him on the shoulder.

"There you are! We're all waiting for you at the party. Our party," he winked at him. He pushed him forward and Mordred forgot about Galahad and his nonsense and his grin back on his face.

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