A small little Drivel I wrote this afternoon after seeing @knightofmordred amazing Sefa/Kara video on my feed again. Short, kinda angsty ish, has a lot of lines that can be interpreted in many ways, especially if you take the lines for something else than what it is that they mean. Enjoy!
Important Tag(s): Mordred POV, past Mordred/Kara, one-sided Mordred/Daegal, Canon divergence, Everybody Lives
Rating: Gen
Warning(s): No Archive Warnings Apply, Period-typical homophobia
Word Count: 1,018
And if Mordred could argue, the view he was witnessing. The picturesque veil of orange, yellow, and red hues that blanketed Kara and Sefa's frame. For it didn't create a gap in the middle of them but rather casted a shadow of two connected people. Connected by anything and everything, but what people refused to call love.
Or
Mordred reflect on the past of his, Kara's and Sefa's relationship growing up, along with other feelings that are kept hidden from Daegal
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Daegal looked up from his dagger, noticing the absent noise of Mordred sharpening his blade. He was staring off at Sefa and Kara who were some ways away. Giggling with one another, cheeks flushed from laughter not noticing Mordred's far off stare, supported with a soft smile.
"Something on your mind?" He questioned when the content expression on Mordred's face fell. The soft smile was no more and the longing gaze became downcasted.
Mordred quickly turned to him. Answering with a shake of his head and a smile rather than words as he returned back to sharpening his blade.
"Something else then?"
He stopped. Fiddled with the stone in his hand, before returning to sharpening. Daegal took it as a sign that the Druid didn't want to talk. Knowing the usually reserved, and shy Druid's actions as if they were his own. Thought, somewhat of a surprise to him occurred when Mordred took a breath and began to talk.
"We all were close," He said, "grew up together."
"Kara, Sefa, and I…." The grating noise of the rock against metal continued as he talked, while Daegal put down his own.
"She had left when we were all pretty young, Sefa that is." Daegal looked towards the girls. Both erupting into another bout of laughter that carried in the wind. Their dresses billowing, while wisps of hair flew about from both the girls and the dark curls of the Druid in front of him.
"Her father disapproved of our Druid morals."
"Which left me and Kara." Mordred took somewhat of a sigh.
"Feelings were… explored." Mordred judged his own usage of words. Replaying it in his head too many times for just a couple of seconds, making sure it didn't prove too obvious.
"But nothing outside of the normal of what we considered normal." If only he could say what the Druids thought was normal. For his normal was all means for execution in Camelot, among other unspeakable punishments.
"You loved Kara," Daegal said. Almost as if asking if his understanding of the conversation so far was correct.
"Loved," Mordred repeated, "I will always love Kara. No more, nor less."
"And she, the same of I, no more or no less." The words that were spoken in the forest he and her had both dreamed of. Even years before, her seeds of attraction were planted and then years later Mordred's of his own as well.
"But feelings were had, and done, and settled."
"Then Why do you look so sad?" Daegal asked with a frown.
"Because," he answered softly and struck the stone against his blade again, "it's something that some people just can't have."
And again.
"Something I fear no person in Camelot would understand."
And again.
"Something I fear even you wouldn't understand." He stopped. He hesitated with every syllable he had spoken. Thinking before letting the words fall heavy for Daegal to answer to.
"I'm always here." Daegal supplied ever so kindly, as he was. Mordred couldn't help but smile at him, a light huff escaping also.
"You are, Daegal," He said, "you are always here." He reached and ruffled his hair. Daegal all but whining his name and trying to swipe his hand away.
"Come on," Mordred stood up, "let's get inside."
Daegal nodded his head, following after. Reminding Mordred that not so long ago, Merlin had compared the younger boy to that of a duckling. Following Mordred around every step he took, with Merlin and Freya all but guiding the two to eventually have a heart-to-heart.
He sheathed his sword and went to do the same for his dagger, finding it not there. "Go on ahead I'll catch up, I forgot my dagger." The latter did so as Mordred turned back around.
The setting sun now face to face with him resembling that of a field of leaves comes Autumn. He had seen the sun, the stars, and the moon time and time again. Yet it never grew boring.
Watched the sun and moon play their cat and mouse game. Chasing and chasing, but never to meet one another. Though he remembered that the Druid elders told him of a time. That for one day, for a mere handful of minutes. They met. Their forbidden love, if one could say, was allowed for such a time so short, hardly enough to call it their hello and goodbye.
He bent down and picked up his dagger, placing it in its rightful place. Two things that were made to fit too well together, such as a dagger and the scabbard. Or the moon and sun. Things that couldn't be imagined without the other. A hello and goodbye.
And if Mordred could argue, the view he was witnessing. The picturesque veil of orange, yellow, and red hues that blanketed Kara and Sefa's frame. For it didn't create a gap in the middle of them but rather casted a shadow of two connected people. Connected by anything and everything, but what people refused to call love.
He could only smile, for their joined hands in the middle of them deserved no less, but much more than they were allowed.
But he couldn't argue. And they couldn't get any more, but take what they could grasp. Even if it was less than straws, but clawing at the dirt. As grains of dirt made something then nothing at all.
And if a painting would never catch the moment, he hoped his memory sufficed. Holding what it meant in the emptiness of that field with no human being to witness it. Even if people would soon tell the tale differently and hide what it truly was.
He turned back around. Running off to join Daegal, who never would see secreted love that wasn't caused by title or magic. But if only Mordred knew himself what would have happened when he had first muttered a word to the other boy.
For that was done, sown into what the stars had planned out. And even now, behind him, as he and Daegal chatted nonsense. love blossomed from the seeds planted many years before….
