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tamingthemuseTitle: Mordred's project
Fandom: Arthurian legends
Prompt: Prompt 412 - Triquetra
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: Arthur, Guinevere and Lancelot were relaxing before the arrival of Mordred.
The sun has started its descent in the sky casting long shadows in the grass. Arthur, Lancelot and Guinevere were sharing a table in the pub garden, a bottle of wine sitting empty in the middle of the table. They were chatting easily, enjoying the start of summertime and taking a much needed break from work.
“Here you are, the Holy Trinity,” Mordred joked as he walked into the garden, a folder in his hands.
“What are you doing here,” Lancelot gnarled.
“Is that any way to greet the once and future heir,” Mordred reprimanded him. He sat next to Arthur. “Father,” he greeted politely. “I trust you are well.”
“Well enough,” Arthur replied courtly. “What are you doing here,” he added his voice sharper than intended.
“Is a son not allowed to enjoy time with his father?”
Arthur glanced at him slightly shaking his head. “Mordred…” He started.
“I know, I know…” the young man started. “It’s not the right time. But then it never is, is it?” His voice was full of accusation.
“What do you want Mordred,” Guinevere asked, reiterated her husband request.
“Pendragon industries,” he replied lightly.
“You’re not fit to manage such a corporation,” Lancelot cut him short. “You think you can rule the world don’t you?”
“Isn’t it what you’re doing? Seems simple enough looking at you,” he joked.
“Anyway, I only came here to ask for your signature father,” he finally admitted as he lay the folder open on the table.
Arthur barely glanced at it. “What is it?”
“The research project I’ve been talking to you about. I need your approval to get the funds for it.”
“Why now?”
“Why another time.”
Arthur sighed and took the folder. He closed it and slid it into his bag lying on the bench next to him. “It’ll have to be for another time,” he said his eyes daring Mordred to reply.
The young man could feel the fire burning behind his father’s eyes. He had seen those flames before and knew better than to play any longer. “Oh well,” he shrugged. “At least I would have tried.” He got up and started to walk away. “See you all on Monday at the office. I’ll be back with that same folder,” he added mischievously as he walked away before anyone could reply.
“Arthur,” Guinevere started emphatically, resting a hand on her husband’s knee.
“I know dear… we cannot avoid his project eternally.”
“We can refuse,” Lancelot pointed out sharply.
“You know it’s not that simple,” Arthur replied. “And you know it Lance,” he added as he got up taking his wife hand’s in his and resting his other one on his friend shoulder. “But enough about this. We had said no work tonight. Let’s go to my house where no one will disturb us.
The other two nodded their agreement and got up, leaving an empty bottle of wine and three dried out glasses on the table.
Fandom: Arthurian legends
Prompt: Prompt 412 - Triquetra
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: Arthur, Guinevere and Lancelot were relaxing before the arrival of Mordred.
The sun has started its descent in the sky casting long shadows in the grass. Arthur, Lancelot and Guinevere were sharing a table in the pub garden, a bottle of wine sitting empty in the middle of the table. They were chatting easily, enjoying the start of summertime and taking a much needed break from work.
“Here you are, the Holy Trinity,” Mordred joked as he walked into the garden, a folder in his hands.
“What are you doing here,” Lancelot gnarled.
“Is that any way to greet the once and future heir,” Mordred reprimanded him. He sat next to Arthur. “Father,” he greeted politely. “I trust you are well.”
“Well enough,” Arthur replied courtly. “What are you doing here,” he added his voice sharper than intended.
“Is a son not allowed to enjoy time with his father?”
Arthur glanced at him slightly shaking his head. “Mordred…” He started.
“I know, I know…” the young man started. “It’s not the right time. But then it never is, is it?” His voice was full of accusation.
“What do you want Mordred,” Guinevere asked, reiterated her husband request.
“Pendragon industries,” he replied lightly.
“You’re not fit to manage such a corporation,” Lancelot cut him short. “You think you can rule the world don’t you?”
“Isn’t it what you’re doing? Seems simple enough looking at you,” he joked.
“Anyway, I only came here to ask for your signature father,” he finally admitted as he lay the folder open on the table.
Arthur barely glanced at it. “What is it?”
“The research project I’ve been talking to you about. I need your approval to get the funds for it.”
“Why now?”
“Why another time.”
Arthur sighed and took the folder. He closed it and slid it into his bag lying on the bench next to him. “It’ll have to be for another time,” he said his eyes daring Mordred to reply.
The young man could feel the fire burning behind his father’s eyes. He had seen those flames before and knew better than to play any longer. “Oh well,” he shrugged. “At least I would have tried.” He got up and started to walk away. “See you all on Monday at the office. I’ll be back with that same folder,” he added mischievously as he walked away before anyone could reply.
“Arthur,” Guinevere started emphatically, resting a hand on her husband’s knee.
“I know dear… we cannot avoid his project eternally.”
“We can refuse,” Lancelot pointed out sharply.
“You know it’s not that simple,” Arthur replied. “And you know it Lance,” he added as he got up taking his wife hand’s in his and resting his other one on his friend shoulder. “But enough about this. We had said no work tonight. Let’s go to my house where no one will disturb us.
The other two nodded their agreement and got up, leaving an empty bottle of wine and three dried out glasses on the table.
