Bastard King

Indie Modred Revamp open to any and all! Heavy Trigger Warning! This rendition follows closer to the original texts than DW's Mordred.

[boltsandbarrels-blog]

People that you should follow if you’re in the Fate/RP community.

@dominarum

@fatedrawnfatemade

@aurealmaster

@cursedjustice

@spiritrxns

@krixmhild

@benbulbenboar - and all their other blogs

@arthxrian​

@seafaringgentleman​

@quamvisnexa / @nexarerum

@virisileia

@maljefe - BUT WATCH OUT SHE’S ON HIATUS and is switching blogs when she gets back on shoreleave. 

@mondartmusen

They’re all super cool and have been a treat to roleplay with or be friends with the muns.

Keep reading

[bastard-king]

Once More, Unto the Fall.

“Mother... I’m here again. Seeing the light shine through me.” He said with fear in his eyes. Looking around he saw no sign of her, but her armor clawed into him. That cold grasp that always reminded him that she was there.

“Mother... I’m here again. Why must I always fail so close to my goal?“ His armor was fading though, as was her grasp on him. Only in the literal sense though... as those claws of hers had left long ago. 

“Mother... I’m here again. So I know you must be watching.“ His voice turned to a growl as the demon king lie dead in the field and the greatest of evils surrounded him. Dracula, Bathory, Jack, Julius... and even Arthur. 

“Mother... I’m here again. Making the same wish, granting me reincarnation.“ Clarent’s glow was fading and so was the shadows that surrounded it. For the first time since his time in life he saw the blades beautiful silver, red, and gold patterns. What a marvelous blade, one that completely trusted in him. 

“Mother... You will be Mine.“ The sword that had completely freed him. That shining light reflected off of the blade and illuminated the helmet. The armor now gone Mordred looked to the sun and held his sword to his chest.

Blood burst from his chest as it pierced his heart and punctured through his back. How he had died the first time. His own insanity forcing him to recreate the scenario so that he is assured the same fate. 

“M-Mother..! You! Will be Mine!“ He coughed out as he placed the hilt of his most trusted partner to his chest. Blood gurgling out through his teeth as the shock his body was feeling pressed his teeth so tight together it bleed his gums.With his body forcing the same substance from his throat to escape into his mouth. 

His next cry so gurgled and angry it wouldn’t be understood by anyone but her.

“Mother. You Will Be Mine.“

And that thought alone... was enough to help him fade completely to the other side. All of his being bursting into golden dust and floating towards the sky along with the other servants. 

[bastard-king]

King’s Blade

@rhonqueen

Mordred was still growing accustomed to the different timelines and universes that FATE could draw from. Time, space, and probability all meant nothing to this strange and powerful tool wielded by the Chaldea organization. Though the differences were always slight, most of the pieces well stitched from the life he lived. Though he truly wasn’t sure if this was still his timeline, or if he had been one of the others summoned from another. Having met two versions of his mother had been the hardest to stomach, but he quickly was able to tell faker from the one that was real. 

E͜it͟h̕e͟r̷ way̵ h̢is w҉͟i҉̸͘s̷̢͡h̀̕ ̸w̧òu̶l̛d͏ remai͜n͢ ͏th͞ȩ ̛s͟a͢m̕e͢

Looking into the black mud he wondered if this is what Percival had looked into. Brandishing his sword, Clarent he looked out towards the sky. It swirled and pulsated like a beating heart of a living person. What God would ordain such a creation? Mordred had been here a few days already, whilst Master had returned for more servants. A great battle was to be had, against Solomon yet again. The new servant had come quickly, ahead of the rest. Perhaps she would have more details.

“Artoria.“ He said plainly. They’d met once or twice before, hardly formally but now with the grail in the sky this singularity was in grave danger. 

“What fate it must be that Master sent you here? Perhaps he believes in the King of Britain that much as to assign us to the front lines.“

[bastard-king]

@pretty-little-teacup

Mordred had returned to Britain, and had sworn to live his life out happily. Now that his fighting was over he liked to use his spare time to wander the lands and see all the intricate differences. It wasn’t as magical a land as it had once been, humans trading in belief for technology. It was weird how belief had a way of making things real. From God to nymphs, they all needed just a bit of imagination and belief from humans to really exist. 

Coming from a time where such things were commonplace and Mordred himself had interacted with a few less than normal creatures. This young man still harnessed that belief that brought them to life. So upon seeing a beautiful, and tiny girl sitting at a park. A very natural park, trees holding swings, a slide with leaves falling down over it, and a dry brook where children could play. Captivated briefly by her beauty he approached with a smile.

“How interesting it is to find a creature like you here.“ There were three boys and a girl running along the brook, chasing each other with sticks. Mordred opted to stand by the girl here instead of sitting. Provoking the spirits could be fatal.

“What might I call you by fair lady?“

[bastard-king]

mondartmusen:

{ ◈ } -

-The bow startled her, slightly, but it was the smile which truly had the Knight surprised. She couldn’t remember Mordred being so relaxed or, perhaps even agreeable in the times past- Had time changed him so much? Maybe not. It wasn’t as though Percival had honestly paid him an exceptional amount of attention. Though she was by no means against making amends and repairing what had fractured - Gawain was proof enough of that - the girl hadn’t felt the need to pursue the other by any means. Who one another were, and what they did- It wouldn’t be inaccurate to say either of them hadn’t much cared to know. Serving at the same table meant little when it came to the members’ bonds with one another, as their families had often played far more to those whom they’d fraternized with than their shared status as Arthur’s Knights. As it had been, Percival felt she’d gotten enough grief from her siblings over her friendship with Gawain, and, to a lesser extent, Gaheris and Gareth. There’d been very little incentive to attempt to win the good graces of the more ill-tempered children of Orkney.

“Oh, I’d never doubt you capable of being summoned, Sir Mordred.” She clarified relaxedly, expression easing ever so much as she spoke. It wasn’t that Percival felt genuinely, truly at peace with him, but there was still something familiar in engaging with an old comrade of sorts.

Still, the girl never would’ve thought she’d find herself missing conversing with Sir Kay in place of someone else. “…No, it was just that I’d never thought to imagine we’d happen to meet again- Not in a place like this, anyways.” The Knight gave her own shake of the head, looking away for a moment as she considered her words. An amused thought made it’s way through her head, she she couldn’t help the sheepish not-quite-smile that it brought. “…Aha, but I guess that means in a sense, we all ended up on a quest for the Grail, right?”

“…I’m glad it’s like this, though, and not something more…Unpleasant. I’m certain most any of us from back home could meet the criteria- But…I really don’t want to fight any of you, you know…?” Was it luck that had allowed her not to in the first place? Percival wasn’t quite so sure of that- She wasn’t sure that leaving her friends behind, never getting to see the sun set over Grannis that she’d looked forward to, and being unable watch who her children had matured into could count as luck. Even so, it had been the one major mercy she’d been granted in her ending. There had never been a side to take, never been friction between blood and water. The King whom she’d admired, the family who had protected her and the friends she’d loved as dearly as her blood- They’d all always been together.

Lancelot had been her senior, and a friend- And, in her eyes, through Galahad by their blood, and Bors in their bond, they were as much as family. But her King, and siblings- One, she’d sworn her fealty and allegiance to, and the others were as precious to her as sunlight was to the plants. Would’ve she turned against her cousins for the sake of her siblings’ lives, and her liege’s honor? Or would’ve she left behind that court she thought of as home, and taken her dearest friends as her blood in place of the ones who had gone?

Percival had thought of that- She didn’t know, and she didn’t want to. Meanwhile, it wasn’t that she feared Mordred- Respected his power and prowess, undeniably. The girl was not so foolhardy as to think of the other Knight as a pushover, or imagine his abilities to be anything less than what they were- But, the thought of him did not bring any form of anxiety to her heart, did not produce any such shuddering or cowering. If she’d had to fight him to serve Arthur, she would’ve done so readily, if nonetheless unhappily.

But the Round Table, all of them - Even Mordred, and Aggravain, and Kay, with whom she had not gotten along - were dear to her by their nature. Friends they might not have been, but they had all served under one leader, and had fought to create a righteous and just Kingdom. Perhaps not companions, but nonetheless, brothers-in-arms. As with the feud between her family, and the Orkneys- It would be pointless. It would accomplish nothing and have left only broken hearts and pain. A fractured table that could’ve never been mended. While there were many things Percival had wanted to live to see-

That, certainly, was something she was glad to have missed.

Mordred had no more reason to be angry, or to give fire to a feud long since dead. His victory meant that there was no need for any of it, he had lived his life and he had won. Thus becoming a good man, a good soldier, and a good son. Killing the great pretender, fulfilling the prophecy of Clarent, and refuting the prophecy of that priest. So to see the woman that his mother had degraded as silly, uninspired, and weak willed bothered him not.

“Yes, that damn cup will never escape us will it? Our beloved creator must be a roman. They always did love their bloody games, and he seems to have the same sense of humor.“

Mordred detested the Romans just like the rest of Britain at the time. Arthur left to fight them and that was the only thanks he had to give those brutes. Living this future life gave him peace in many ways, the thought of that empire’s downfall was both pleasing and comforting.  One of his duties at king was to defeat its enemies and he fully intended to if Arthur had not returned so soon. That ‘great’ empire falling made his own fall seem much more natural, it helped him get over the anger of dying to his nemesis’s hands. 

“Sir Percival, that grail is something worth seeking as I’m sure you know. I’m delighted to be after it this time, for when you had gone out I was still very young.“

Mordred was a very young knight, dying well before the age of thirty he had little hope of understanding the Percival from back then. However the grail seemed to summon him in a prime that he did not make it to. Stronger, faster, and even smarter, but it was just as likely it was merely the grail increasing his power to that of a heroic spirit instead of a human man. In fact, as his mind wandered to him being summoned like this he looked at Percival as a woman of equal value, if not even a bit higher as he did look down to her eyes. 

“Hmhm... it’s nice to see you like this now. My vision did not include your beauty as I can comprehend now. Quite the knight you are indeed. Hmhm.“ A soft laugh followed as his winter green orbs tried to look past her own eyes. 

“Of course though, our chivalry does not demote women to house roles. So I will fight against you as an equal when the time comes to claim the grail for one of us. My only disadvantage will be you shall know the Grail much more closely than I. A challenge I graciously accept.“

Thinking of the grail was dangerous, the geas on his face burned his face as his mind thought of it for only a second.  ʇ̛̱̟̣͎̯͕̬ᴉ̭̠͎̰̠̟͜ ͈̱̲̤͕p͙ǝ͏̜̠̼̘̞͍̳ǝ̞͉̖̳̬u ̡͍I̶͕,͟ ̼͡I ̡wa͈̞͝n͚͟t͕̞̫͟ ͚͙͔̩̜͉͘i̧͕̻̙̦t̺̥̬̜̥͓́,͏̺̖̰̦̙ ̤̥ʇ̴̣̹̟̮̗ᴉ̢͓̲ ̩̼̤͚͘ǝ͉ͅʌ̰͎ɐ̥̣͈ɥ̠͔͎͚͍ ̧l̛l͉͖̗͚͇͉̰ᴉ̬͓̞́ʍ̪̹͓ͅ ̵̟I̢,̜̮̝͘ i̗͉͙̳t̺̹̞̼̱̱ ̷̣̠b͔̠͈͜e̥͔͔̖̲̮l͓͕o̢̙̘̩͖n͡g̻͚̳̙̹͎̺ș ̴t̯͠ó̜̞͙̱̙̱̦ ͚̪̯͔̟̯m҉̙̥̩͔͕ͅͅe̥̦,̺̯ ̯̱͡ǝ̛̪̞̙̭ɯ̮͕͚ ̬̳̻̖͉͇̪o͘ʇ͈̘̗̪ ͚͟ɹ̛̞͇͓̠̪̞ǝ̳̮̭͓̹͙ͅɥ͓͈̙̫̖̻̯ ƃ̻̙̗̣̱̺͢ú̹̥ᴉ̝̝ɹ̧̲̯͓̮͈q̦,̠̙͍̭̠͝ ̣̗͚͎̙̠B̥̣̮̫̺͔Ǝ҉̠̻̗̪̼ͅH͍͖̪̻͖̱O̡͇̙˥͏̜̖͖̟̘D̡͔̠̥̱̳̯ ̧T̬̗͇̯̗̦H͕͍̫̫̗̲͍E̷͇̝̩͚̭ ̟̫̫͖͠ͅפ̞̱̤̜R∀͕͙̠͎͈I̧̘̤̬˥͖̭͖͈̳̜͇ 

What a terrible pain it would bring every time. Nevertheless he would have that grail, even if he had to butcher the entire world and consume the blood of all those in it. That Grail... was his new obsession. Turning a sword against knights was not unknown to him, but it was always with purpose. A purpose as strong as this? Doing so would leave him without hesitation. His armor stabbed into his body, however it was a pain he was used to. All of this externally would appear as if he simply zoned off for a moment.

He smiled at her, a genuine and bright smile. Seen only by three in his lifetime, three people he hated dearly. Now perhaps it meant something else in this life to smile. Yes indeed, this life everything was different.

[bastard-king]

arthxrian:

The youth is familiar to him- he reminds Arthur much of his own son, Mordred, before he betrayed the Round.

He bowed low to his fellow Knight, planting his sword as he straightened- he would show the young man as much respect as was deserved by a Knight of his own time, beginning with a proper introduction.

Back ramrod straight, he spoke, smile falling in favor of a stern expression.

“My name is Arthur Pendragon, Sir Knight- Former King of Camelot, leader of the Knights of the Round Table and Rightborn King of England. If it troubles you not, state your name, that I might have the honor of knowing with whom I speak.”

And there was the feeling again- as if he had given this man the very speech he now recited once before, It ate at his mind, filling him with an unnatural worry that he quickly shooed away.

“As I Thought.“ Mordred said with a smile. This really was that pretender from all those years ago. My how young the grail favored him, much like every other force other than his people. Resting a hand on the pommel to his sword, not in a grabbing motion, but to call attention to the legendary blade Clarent.

“Allow me to follow your line of titles.“

“I am King Mordred, son of Queen of Morgause and chosen by Clarent to rule Great Britain. Former knight of the round table and prince of Lothian.“

With the two kings of Britain now face to face for the first time since their weapons skewered each other. A holy spear through one, and an ancient sword of dictation through the other. Mordred may have died that day, but he had won. Clarent had been proven right, and he had truly defended Britain from a man he and many others believed to be unfit to rule.  

[bastard-king]

@arthxrian

This Arthur was younger, much younger. However that sword at his side was the same as the one his own nemesis had wielded. Here he sat alone, so vunerable. It made him sick to see such weakness. He was so... plain, vanilla, unmarred by scar nor time. Jealousy wasn’t felt towards this, not even for the geas on his face. A man should be proud of the things he did in life, and it seemed that the hand held boy never grew up in mind or body.

At least his female counter-part had an excuse for her ditsy nature. But a King? A warrior? That level of indecisiveness was unheard of. Thus continued to prove that Mordred was right, that Arthur was the great pretender. Clarent boiled in its sheath at the sight of the faker, and yet Morgause’s training would never be unheard of. So he had to test something, would this young man even recognize Mordred? Or was this some other rendition of him, unbeknownst to Mordred’s time.

“Hail sir knight!“ His scowl faded even with that forced promotion of his character. “Do you hail from Britain as well? I am a knight of Lothian, you seem familiar. Perhaps we did battle?“ The last one did force a sneer that he quickly deflected into a smirk.

[bastard-king]

"Ah. You're here. Fair morning to you, Brother." [from Gawain obviously]

“And a fair morning to you too, Brother. I trust everything is well, you look bright as ever.”

[bastard-king]

"Why would you do something so controversial, yet so brave?"

“You Know I Had to Do It to Em.“ 

[princessofknights]

@bastard-king Starter

❀ “A pleasure to work with you! I am Arturia Lily, of the Saber class.” Giving a small bow with a smile, Lily tried her best to keep a graceful demeanor. A first impression was likely important–She had no clue who she was even talking to while waiting for their mission to start.

“I do not believe we have met before… I do not recognize you. But if we are to be on this mission together, it would be best for us to know each other! It will make things easier for everyone, don’t you think? I have not yet heard the specifics of what we’re to do, but I’m sure it will be easy if we work together!” She was overwhelmingly positive, seeming to chatter on excitedly. ❀

[bastard-king]

Smiling he looked to the innocent creature before him. She really was a lily wasn’t she? So precious and tender, what a shame that she wouldn’t grow any more past this. She would remain a child well into her kinship.

“Arturia Lily? How sweet.“

“I am King Mordred,  chosen by Clarent after my own kings time to rule Britain.“ Mordred was not one for titles but in front of the knight that would grow to be his one largest nemesis? He would make an exception. 

“I too am lacking in knowledge of what is to come. I assume it has something to do with the new singularity that has appeared. Especially bringing two knights to it, I am sure we are London bound.“

[bastard-king]

Interview with Best King

★ FILL IN THE QUESTIONS AS IF YOU ARE BEING INTERVIEWED FOR AN ARTICLE AND YOU WERE YOUR MUSE.

TAGGED BY: @cursedjustice TAGGING: @fatedrawnfatemade @dominarum @mondartmusen @corruptivexspirit @catch-hell-mercenary @licntari @factaerrata + YOU!

1. WHAT IS YOUR NAME? -”Mordred.”

2. WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME? - “Sir Mordred Orkney, King of Britain.”

3. DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU’RE CALLED THAT? - “For taking the throne of Britain for myself and the glory of my parents.”

4. ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN? - “I am very much taken.”

5. WHAT ARE YOUR POWERS AND ABILITIES? - “My late mentor taught me how to use anything as a weapon to its fullest ability. Along with jousting, and magical warding. As a servant I also have the power to mimic noblephantasms.”

6. WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR EYES? - “Emerald, like mothers.”

7. HAVE YOU EVER DYED YOUR HAIR? - “Never, mother wouldn’t have allowed it.”

8. DO YOU HAVE ANY FAMILY MEMBERS? - “I have a handful of brothers and a sister. They’re all very strong and sweet, as for my parents I can say the same.”

9. DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS? - “The dogs I inherited. Two Irish Wolfhounds, both I cherished dearly.”

10. TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE. -”Weakness. It’s unnerving to find a living being that chooses the weakest paths for themselves.”

11. DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES OR ACTIVITIES YOU DO IN YOUR SPARE TIME? -”I take my swordplay very seriously. Lancelot told me that it would get easier if I did it everyday, but only if I did it everyday. I never want to forget what I’ve learned.”

12. HAVE YOU EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE? - “Yes.”

13. HAVE YOU EVER… KILLED ANYONE? -” It is required of a knight and a king. Especially in the time I hail from. Merchant children were given swords before they were ten. Protecting yourself is paramount, and for the knight and king. Justice must be inflicted.”

14. WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU? - “I've been referred to as quite a bit. Though with my Royal Blood I would consider myself a Dragon.”

15. NAME YOUR WORST HABITS. - “I often times am lost without my Mother here. However, it’s getting better to be independent.”

16. DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE? -”My father, King Lot was a proud and great man. Lancelot for the work ethic he taught me, though his amorous nature leads me to avoid listing him as a true role model. Finally my older brothers and sister, I admire them all. Gawain’s charisma, Aggravaine’s skill, Gareth’s mercy, Gaheris’s conviction, and Clarissant’s beauty. ”

17. GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL? - "I have only ever felt the touch of a woman, and I have no desire to learn of more.”

18. DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL? -’My years as a squire ended long ago.”

19. DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS SOMEDAY? - “I did bear children, and I do hope to do it again somehow."

20. DO YOU HAVE ANY FANS? - “Of course! In my time as king I was truthfully loved by many of the people. Clarent chose me to be king and Lancelot spoke fondly of me until the very end. But my biggest fan is Mother of course.”

21. WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF? - “Being alone.”

22. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR? - “My noble armor, from my time in court. It’s far more suited to comfort than the beautiful armor that mother fashioned for me. It only comes out for when I must kill again.”

23. DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE? - “Yes... and I always will.”

24. WHAT CLASS ARE YOU? -”Avenger.”

25. HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE? - “If only you had asked did. In this timeline I find myself rather lacking, only a small handful.”

26. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE? - “I’m mostly unfamiliar. But Saint Martha made some to share not too long ago and it was positively delicious.”

27. FAVORITE DRINK? - “I’m rather partial to honeyed whiskey.”

29. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PLACE? - “Lothian Castle, it is by far the most home I have ever been.”

30. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN SOMEONE? - “I’ve been infatuated for most of my life.”

31. WHAT’S YOUR DICK SIZE? - "I’ve never found use in measuring. However it has been described well by the women I have slept with.”

32. WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN? 

- “Lakes are a bit partial to my history. I imagine that lake would be highly relaxing.”

33. WHAT’S YOUR ‘TYPE’? - “I’m confused..." Mumbling from interviewer. “Oh... well motherly types for sure. The caring nature and curvy body type define peak womanhood.“

34. ANY FETISHES? - “These questions are getting rather invasive."

35. TOP OR BOTTOM? DOMINANT OR SUBMISSIVE? - “I’m a king. A king’s place is to dominate.”

36. CAMPING, OR INDOORS? - "I may be a bit spoiled, but indoors was always prefered over the french and english wilds.”

37. ARE YOU WAITING FOR THIS INTERVIEW TO BE OVER?

- “You are a strange creature.”

[bastard-king]

cursedjustice:

Sengo Murasama had been minding his own business, happily content  in his workshop before Mordred appeared and managed to make him feel murderous rage in record time. Since not only was  knight lecturing a blacksmith on sword making, but went so far as to insult his entire homeland’s quality of blades in the same breathe. If it were not for the intervention of his vessel’s influence, he would have used one of the blades he looked down on so much to decapitate him. Held back by Shirou, Sengo glared at sword presented to him-Clarent, was it?

“You mean aside from the fact it can only cause great destruction within the hands of a wielder of a royal blood-line?” His rhetorical question had a was asked in a sharp tone. 

“Unlike my swords which are made to destroy, this one was made to act as more of a status symbol than anything. It has magic to amplify the wielder’s charisma yet it appears you haven’t unlocked that effect.” Since Shirou wouldn’t let him hurt Mordred physically, instead Sengo would have to settle for slicing that sense of superiority into nothingness.

“You wish to teach me? I don’t recall asking for this sort of charity. What could you possibly gain from such actions, Saber?” Great, now Shirou was trying to take over to stop Sengo from from giving Mordred a verbal tongue lashing. Joy. 

“Indeed it’s magical properties are lost on those of peasantry. However if you were to thrust it into my chest I would die just the same. This sword is a crown you are correct, however in being a weapon it allows destruction such as yours.“ Mordred was no fool, he was absolutely picking up on the sass and the levels of anger coming from this man.  Then of course he asked what the purpose was. With a smile Mordred took off his helmet showing his human face to the two men.

“I believe that you would be able to make a weapon in this timeline far more powerful than anything you crafted in life. Using proper materials and the knowledge of the smiths that came after you with your raw talent and prowess for the art.“ Mordred laughed a little bit. 

“I may know little to nothing about it. But I’ve already improved my swordsmanship here. I’ve seen others advance as well, this is all a test of curiosity. I’m just willing to help you gather said materials.“

[bastard-king]

krixmhild:

Kriemhild’s face was twisted in anger as she beheld the mockery of her husband’s sword, lips pulled back to bare her teeth in a snarl that would look more at home on a rabid beast than on the normally regal woman. Even as the blackened blade shattered, her expression remained apoplectic as she spat, “Should you wish to copy my treasures, Traitor, you might wish to try my Ring. It would suit your finger well. And should I see Balmung in your hand again… I will make you pay should it drag us both screaming into death.”

She had unconsciously drawn her sword upon seeing the cracked copy of it, and a thick coat of toxic green, shimmering Ether cloaked the blade, and had begun to trail up her hands even though she had yet to truly activate the blade. Raymond had started muttering under his breath, messaging his Servant as soon as they had come into visual range of the brewing conflict, but after Glavestone’s own words. he stepped forward, speaking to his own Servant out loud, “Your Majesty, it is obvious you and Lord Mordred have in some ways offended each other. But we are officially allies now, and for the sake of your own wish and your ideals, I would ask you to stand down. I would not like to be a traitor mere minutes after having signed onto this alliance.”

The Servant gives both of the Masters a withering glare, and with a sneer, the Ether slowly bled off of her hands and the blade. She slings the sword over her back, sending a glare to the other Avenger as well. “I will not recant my words involving what I shall do if he chooses to try to wield Balmung again. But if we must work together…” her teeth grind audibly, “I will apologize for my words until now. I seem to have been somewhat… tactless while I attempted to ensure that Lord Mordred was not keeping similar habits as he had in life, and my tolerance for traitors is… quite small to say the least. I lost control of my temper and my tongue, and I beg your forgiveness, Sir Mordred. I doubt I will ever truly like you. But my wish is too important to throw away this early. If we battle, let it be the crowning battle as the final two Servants in this War. Then we can settle this without regrets of what could have been if we’d not gone for each other’s throats and weakening whoever one in what could be something fatal when battling other Servants.” She gives a short, stiff bow as she apologizes, and her fists are clenched at her sides, though she keeps ready to drown the knight under a tide of gold should hostilities resume.

“You’re words continuously cut me, but I shall harden my skin to such things. However I will apologize for antagonizing you, as my fellow servant you do not deserve such a thing.“ Mordred smiled as his blackness returned to its home and he stood there now without a weapon. He’d learned much from this, Ether. Ether was something he hadn’t expected and would take some time to replicate. 

Glavestone however saw these thoughts, and couldn’t deny them. If they could get any advantage they would need it. Including against their friends, for Glavestone would not be able to simply hand over the grail. Still the peace now was necessary, and enjoyed. Walking up close to him he patted Raymond’s back. 

“Well done friend, you handle stress well. Mordred! You are not to wield Balmung again until you can project it properly. To do that you’d need her help, as we both know. Now, lets avoid this from happening again. Strike her at all and I’ll be forced to use a command seal on you.“ Leaning closer to Raymond he whispered, 

“Though in the future, if need be she could destroy her Balmung and he would be inable to use it again. She could reform it in time.“ Then he approached Mordred.

“It was terribly rude of you to interrupt us. Now be on watch, with two servants here it is likely that we will not be able to mask such a presence.“

“Yes, my master.“

Leaping onto the roof he dematerialized and remained quiet, as Glavestone returned to Raymond. This night would go to show just how rocky the road ahead very well could be.

[mondartmusen-deactivated2025052]

@bastard-king

{ ◈ } -

She understood why they’d felt the way they did. Her brothers’ indignation, stubborn anger. The grief which had ever clung to her Mother, the pained and horrible shade which followed her every movement. Her uncles’ and cousins’ hushed words of resentment. But for the King who had left them, and the Father whose face she couldn’t recall in the slightest- No, Percival couldn’t share in her family’s resentments, in their bitter feud. The Orkneys were her fellows at the Round Table, so she’d felt. Gawain was dear to her, and though not so close to the rest, she had never hated them.

Yet, though she’d never grieved for the Father she couldn’t remember- Even if he’d been stupid, egotistical, reckless- Her elder brother, she’d loved dearly.

Still, Percival didn’t hate them. For all her grief, she couldn’t curse them. She’d felt hurt, betrayed, and for the life of her, couldn’t understand why- But to lose even more to the pointless feud would’ve hurt her only more. For all that had happened, Gawain’s friendship still seemed as precious to her as any treasure. She was far too weary for fighting. So, despite it all, Percival forgave.

-But to forgive someone and to absolve them were to very different things. To forgive someone was not to like them, but simply to move on from the hurt they’d done. Gareth, who had been innocent to begin with, she had never blamed or felt any anger towards. Gaheris and Gawain, she had forgiven, and still cared for, even if she had not absolved them. -Agravain and Mordred, however. She had forgiven. It was true. She wold not allow herself to linger on old resentments, or to further any possible conflict. But it would be wrong to say the Grail Knight had been able to do more than marginally tolerate either of them. “Sir Mordred.”

For all she could do, it was beyond Percival’s abilities to keep ice from seeping into her normally warm tone. Of all the Knights to be reunited with in Chaldea; Galahad, Bors, Lancelot, Gawain, Arthur himself- It certainly hadn’t been Mordred whom she’d longed to see once more. Yet, she wouldn’t spurn him. Even for his transgressions, against both her and against her King, she wouldn’t deny the Knight of Treachery as another member of the Round Table. Even if she disliked Mordred- He was still a Knight, and far be it from Percival to refuse another of her rank the courtesies the position owed. “…It has been some time, hasn’t it…? It surprises me to see you are here.”

[bastard-king]

There she was, Percival. One of the few knights of the Grail. Mother had never favored the quest in search for such a trinket as her goals were much closer than that quest took them. So a large part of him detested the knights who search so dearly for the grail. Especially for their quest to end in such an anti-climactic way, he felt that was punishment enough for their efforts.

As for the lot of Pellinore, well the Orkney’s outshined them in every fashion. Gawain in light, Gareth in mercy, Aggravaine in tactic, and Mordred held Britain as his own until his death. Rather than seeing a knight that belonged to a family he had every right to hate, he saw a girl that had lost. Pity was an emotion that came, but he delighted in that blissfulness of coming out on top of even his brothers. Pellinore and all of his family have died, and this world is far in the future. No more reason for such bloodshed, it was indeed finished.

They were passing one another in the garden of Chaldea. Mordred deep in thought as he wandered about, but of course the sight of one in armor would bring his eyes to hers. A knight, so far had always been from his time. Once more proven right, it seemed that perhaps the entire round table would be here in time. Smiling he stood in his noble armor, that which he wore around Camelot and not on the battlefield. That sickly black armor remained off until combat demanded it.

“Sir Percival,“ He bowed resepectfully and rose soon after,

“It’s been a very long time. As for my being here I’m surprised at your words. This place houses Heroic Spirits. This term also applies to the antagonists of the stories. I’ve seen The Minotaur of Greece, and the witch that plagued it too. I’ve seen the evil of our lands and the knights as well.“ Smiling still he shook his head a bit.

“Of the monsters and men here I wouldn’t be surprised by seeing anyone here. There’s poets in this place, masters of the pen and the sword alike.“

[goingawaybyethanks-deactivated2]

My edit: the Family of Orkney and the Children of Morgause: Gawain, Agravaine, Clarissant, Gaheris, Gareth, Mordred.

The five brothers were named in Le Mort d'Arthur and other important arthurian sources, for example the romances of Chretien de’ Trois. In Le Mort d'Arthur of Malory, Gawain, Agravaine, Gaheris and Gareth are sons of Morgause and Lot King of Orkney, meanwhile Mordred was born by the accidental incest between Morgause and King Arthur.

Clarissant, the only daughter of Morgause, didn’t appeared in Le Mort d’ Arthur, but only in some marginal legends. I personally love the headcanon that she is a selkie, and I adopted it.

[bastard-king]

Merlin: Why should we help you?

Mordred: Because we're friends.

Merlin: When's my birthday?

Mordred: Unfair. When's my birthday?

Merlin: I don't know because we're not friends.

[bastard-king]

krixmhild:

Her face twisted in a scowl, “They were but tools to achieve my vengeance, much as you were for your mother. My only true child was Siegmund, Atli and his court were but means to an end. And for you to speak of mothers and women strikes me as but empty bluster. I doubt you ever truly knew your own mother, even as she arranged for you to deliver Camelot into her hands like a good little pawn. That’s all you ever were, weren’t you? A pawn in the games of  those with actual power.”

She brings her Ring-bearing hand up, gripping the sword on her back as she awaits the Knight’s attack. She would not be the one to break this alliance, as she said. But the moment the other Avenger moved to attack, she was ready to dodge and release her Noble Phantasm upon the wretch, while her Agility may not be very high, even the legendary Knights of the Round Table would likely be slowed by having a wall of treasure dropped in their path.

Raymond, meanwhile, gave a nod to the other Master’s words, “Not a lot of my repertoire is particularly quick, I specialize in long-term effects mainly, curses, geasa, Bounded Fields, and the like, with a little dabbling in physical interference. Nothing I can really throw up in the middle of combat unless I’d prepared the area beforehand.”

“But yes, we should probably head them off… and quickly at that. Kriemhild just started drawing significantly more prana through our contract, not enough for full combat just yet, but she’s preparing for the possibility.” The mage stands, beginning to head for the door to cut off a battle that may jeopardize this newly formed alliance. His Command Seals begin to glow softly as he prepares to use one in the worst case scenario.

“Geasa? As in Geas? A curse mage through and through you must be. Truly we are cut from different cloth. I’m almost envious that I never got to practice the arts you know.“ Standing up with haste he continued his conversation through the halls. The walls were lined with paintings, ornate and tragic being the running theme. The man seemed to know a thing about betrayal, Ephilates, Brutus, Judas. All captured on the walls, what a prophecy to have summoned Mordred. However these details may only be noticed at a later date, with the rush they were in to make it to their servants. 

Roaring out his hand twisted in an unreal fashion. Completely facing the other way as it yanked back into position a black sickly blade took shape, then it expanded and grew into a sword of some renown. It was large, well tipped, a thrusting weapon that would pierce a dragon. With this blade forged from the darkness around him he spat out,

“My mother gave me the throne! It was my right! My throne that, that wretch could not hold!“ Then, a feminine laughter appeared as his armor sucked inwards around his ribs, visibly piercing into his body. 

“Mother loved me..! She took care of me..! She gave me the power to take what I needed! I put all of those bastards to Shame!“ Raising the sword high it became obvious, that it was a bleeding copy of the one that she held in her own hands. Cracked and damaged but Balmung all the same.

“Enough Mordred.“ Commanded an unusually authoritative Glavestone. “My liege, if we strike down our allies here we will never be able to hold your wish.“ he rephrased. “I wish to keep out promise, no command seals unless one of us is in danger. But we cannot attack these people, even if you two hate each other. You will never hold the grail alone.“

“Release her sword.“ With that the shadow blade shattered to pieces and his armor returned to its normal shape. Even the black ink, while the slowest of this long process began to absorb back into his armor.