weepingwillow9Title: I Promise
Rating: R
Pairing/s: Mordred/Galahad(OC)
Character/s: Mordred, Galahad(OC), Morgana is mentioned
Summary: More things about destiny and futility
Warnings: None
Word Count: 417
Prompt: Promise
Author's Notes: Kind of goes with my other one for this prompt
When Morgana tells him what she has Seen, Mordred makes a promise. He will take Arthur’s land, free it from a rule he sees as riddled with hypocrisy, as never quite good enough, and he will reclaim it for his people. Magic will no longer just live, it will thrive. He devotes himself to the task, for the rest of his life, and he vows that he will succeed, whatever the cost.
He works his way into Arthur’s court, into his trust, into the elite band of his knights.
And then he meets Galahad.
Beautiful Galahad, with goodness that comes off him in waves like light, or warmth. The way he smiles and everything feels almost disturbingly right. It shakes Mordred, how far and how fast he falls, for something so out of reach. Galahad’s of this world, and he’s something to be exalted. Mordred’s dark, now, but he’ll shine anew in the world he creates, the world that Galahad doesn’t belong in.
Still, when Galahad goes to him, he doesn’t say no. Not at first. And then, after kissing his lips red and bruised, he pushes him away.
“I’m no good for you.”
“Yes, you are, now kiss me again.”
Mordred smiles at his persistence, but shakes his head.
“No. You have things you should be doing, things you’re meant for. I’ll only hold you down.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Galahad tells him, trying for another kiss, hands firm on Mordred’s shoulders.
“It’s not just that,” Mordred insists, “I can’t do this whole thing. I’ll hurt you, I’ll sleep around. And you want, you deserve, more than that.”
Galahad shakes his head again, trying to pull him in closer.
“No, no, you’ll be fine, I want you, I don’t want anyone else.”
Mordred just shakes his head, and lets Galahad fight futilely against his magic.
“You deserve better.”
And then Galahad stills.
“Do you want me?”
Mordred can’t help but glance over him. His shirt is undone and his hair is a mess, his lips red and swollen and his eyes blown. And Mordred wants, he really, really does.
“Fuck, yes,” he breathes.
“Then you try. You promise me you try. And I’ll promise to try to stick with it, to try to understand. Yeah?”
Mordred hesitates only for a moment before he replies.
“I promise,” he tells Galahad, but it’s a promise he knows he’ll break before long, when he betrays Galahad, when he betrays them all, to follow his destiny and take what is his.