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tamingthemuseTitle: Firebrand
Fandom: Arthurian legends
Prompt: Prompt 445 - Firebrand
Warnings: N/A
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 next round is on me," he added. The crowd errupted in joy. Mordred smiled. They were louder for the mead than they had been for Arthur. It was so easy to please them.
Mordred was sitting on a stool, his back leaning against the wall of the tavern. The atmosphere was dense and the air heavy with alcohol fumes and the odour of too many knights and servants. Arthur had won another victory today and everyone who hadn't been on the fields had gathered to celebrate.
"To our great King," Mordred exclaimed raising his pint of mead into the air. His cry was echoed throughout the establishement. "The next round is on me," he added. The crowd errupted in joy. Mordred smiled. They were louder for the mead than they had been for Arthur. It was so easy to please them.
---*---
"Hey, you okay," Mordred asked gently as George massaged his shoulder.
"Go away," the boy mumbled.
"I'm not here to make fun of you," Mordred explained. He extended his hand toward the young knight on the ground. Kay had just defeated him on the training ground and had proceeded to mock his skills. "He's a jerk," the bastard prince added.
George raised his head and saw the smile of Mordred's face. He accepted the hand.
"With some other knights, we've started another training unit. We don't all agree with Kay's methods. Care to join?"
George looked quizically at Mordred.
"He might be the King foster brother, but that doesn't make him perfect and untouchable. He's old. Camelot needs a fresh attitude, fresh blood." He looked silently at the young knight for an instant before adding, "I've seen you train. You're good."
"Yeah. Okay," George replied after consideration. "That doesn't mean I'll stick around," he added in a hurry.
Mordred laughed. "No contract involve. If you don't like us, you can leave anytime and go back to play with those brutes." He gestured to the official training ground.
---*---
"I hate Lancelot." Remus slammed his glass on the table angrily. "It's always Lancelot this and Lancelot that. And he likes it!"
"Yeah," George agreed. "He's just so full of himself, never letting a chance for anyone else."
Mordred took a slow sip from his mead. He liked to watched his men get worked up. Anger made them more malleable.
"The King would forgives him anything, wouldn't he," he asked softly.
"And we're supposed to be equal," Remus spat. "The Round Table and all of that. It's just bullshit!"
"Hey, why don't we start our own order," George asked without realising what he had said. It took a few second for the words to sink in. When they did, he didn't regret them but simply turn to Mordred. "Relaly though Mordred, why don't you start a new order. You're much better than the King."
Mordred smiled. "Well, thank you for thinking so George, but we don't want to split the kingdom. That being said," he continued before the young knights could stop him. "We already have our training programme. We could demand to be a separate squadron in the army, proves ourselves and then..." he let his words trailed off. He hadn't commited any crime, hadn't expressed the intention to but in the alcohol fulled minds of his friends, they could already see themselves taking over Camelot.
Modred drank some of his mead and leant back into his chair, watching his companions starting to plan their future exploits on the fields of war.
Fandom: Arthurian legends
Prompt: Prompt 445 - Firebrand
Warnings: N/A
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 next round is on me," he added. The crowd errupted in joy. Mordred smiled. They were louder for the mead than they had been for Arthur. It was so easy to please them.
Mordred was sitting on a stool, his back leaning against the wall of the tavern. The atmosphere was dense and the air heavy with alcohol fumes and the odour of too many knights and servants. Arthur had won another victory today and everyone who hadn't been on the fields had gathered to celebrate.
"To our great King," Mordred exclaimed raising his pint of mead into the air. His cry was echoed throughout the establishement. "The next round is on me," he added. The crowd errupted in joy. Mordred smiled. They were louder for the mead than they had been for Arthur. It was so easy to please them.
---*---
"Hey, you okay," Mordred asked gently as George massaged his shoulder.
"Go away," the boy mumbled.
"I'm not here to make fun of you," Mordred explained. He extended his hand toward the young knight on the ground. Kay had just defeated him on the training ground and had proceeded to mock his skills. "He's a jerk," the bastard prince added.
George raised his head and saw the smile of Mordred's face. He accepted the hand.
"With some other knights, we've started another training unit. We don't all agree with Kay's methods. Care to join?"
George looked quizically at Mordred.
"He might be the King foster brother, but that doesn't make him perfect and untouchable. He's old. Camelot needs a fresh attitude, fresh blood." He looked silently at the young knight for an instant before adding, "I've seen you train. You're good."
"Yeah. Okay," George replied after consideration. "That doesn't mean I'll stick around," he added in a hurry.
Mordred laughed. "No contract involve. If you don't like us, you can leave anytime and go back to play with those brutes." He gestured to the official training ground.
---*---
"I hate Lancelot." Remus slammed his glass on the table angrily. "It's always Lancelot this and Lancelot that. And he likes it!"
"Yeah," George agreed. "He's just so full of himself, never letting a chance for anyone else."
Mordred took a slow sip from his mead. He liked to watched his men get worked up. Anger made them more malleable.
"The King would forgives him anything, wouldn't he," he asked softly.
"And we're supposed to be equal," Remus spat. "The Round Table and all of that. It's just bullshit!"
"Hey, why don't we start our own order," George asked without realising what he had said. It took a few second for the words to sink in. When they did, he didn't regret them but simply turn to Mordred. "Relaly though Mordred, why don't you start a new order. You're much better than the King."
Mordred smiled. "Well, thank you for thinking so George, but we don't want to split the kingdom. That being said," he continued before the young knights could stop him. "We already have our training programme. We could demand to be a separate squadron in the army, proves ourselves and then..." he let his words trailed off. He hadn't commited any crime, hadn't expressed the intention to but in the alcohol fulled minds of his friends, they could already see themselves taking over Camelot.
Modred drank some of his mead and leant back into his chair, watching his companions starting to plan their future exploits on the fields of war.
