[identity profile] amaranthine-7.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] tamingthemuse
Title: Mordred and Galahad
Fandom: Arthurian legends
Prompt: Prompt 382 - Antithesis
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 first time they met, Mordred laughed at Galahad.

The first time they met, Mordred laughed at Galahad. He couldn't help it. The boy look so childlike and innocent. He believed the world to be great and Camelot to be perfect. Mordred knew better and couldn't wait for the boy to be disappointed.

The second time they met, Galahad was sitting next to Mordred at a banquet table. He wouldn't drink an alcohol, not even a simple glass of honeyed wine. Mordred shrugged his shoulder and spent the rest of the evening chatting with his the guest on his other side.

The third time they met Galahad asked him questions. He wanted to know why Mordred was so bitter and desillusioned. Mordred only replied that he wasn't, he simply saw reality as it was and wasn't fooling himself. Galahad wouldn't take that as an answer and insisted that Mordred was only seeing one side of reality. Galahad could show him the other, the more beautiful side of it. Mordred laughed again.

He had been wrong to laugh. The young knight had somehow taken up the mission to make his words reality. Not a day would go by without Mordred finding Galahad in his way, whispering his interpretations of the world next to him. Mordred did his best to ignore them and more often than not, he would counteract the other man by exposing his version of what they were both seeing.

Galahad didn't give up. Mordred admitted that the young man had at least this for him. He believed firmly in what he preached and wouldn't be brought down. Mordred tried and tried but Galahad never changed his mind.

People would send them surprised glance at first but after a while they got used to seeing those two knights together. It did not make sense. They were complete opposite and their talks were not understandable. It was always like a contest, a fight almost.

After a few months of this game, Mordred would smile when he would smell the delicate, almost ladylike, perfume of Galahad. In spite of himself, he would seek out this smell which would mean the arrival of Galahad, of his sweet honeyed voice, of the stars in his eyes, and the life in his body. Mordred didn't know any longer if he wanted ot crush of all that or melt with it. It didn't make sense, and he had other worries in his mind. So he let it go and ignored Galahad as best he could.

As Mordred launched his final plan, as Guinevere and Lancelot fell, as Arthur was broken, Mordred started to weep and then cry. He didn't know why at first. It was simply that Galahad would not come see him any longer. The young man had gone for the Grail. He had invited Mordred to follow but he had refused. Instead he had remained in Camelot and loneliness had taken hold of him. So he made himself become bad, prove to Galahad that he had been unsaveable anyway.

When he died, Galahad came back for a day. He was the only one that could give him a grave, a haven for eternity.

Profile

tamingthemuse: (Default)
Taming The Muse

Authors

Navigation

Prompt Tags and Lists

Word Prompt Entry

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Mar. 11th, 2026 08:50 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios