eachdraidh | [ Video; Both Courts ]

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[ Video; Both Courts ]

[ This video feed is focused mostly on a Lancelot's dog, so all that is really seen of him is his hands holding her still. She's terribly curious about it, but he's restraining her from licking it or chewing it.

His voice is distinctly tired, and anyone who is paying attention will notice that you can just about see a line of red, raw skin on his wrists -- leather guards covering how heavy the damage might be. ]

Is anyone good with names? I'm afraid my friend here has gone too long without one. She's brave, curious but cautious, much cleverer than I am...

[ She's also turning to nudge his hands. He lifts one gently and pets at her ears. She squirms a little, shakes her head -- then makes a quiet, high-pitched sound and...

... hiccups a tiny fireball. The dog's ears flatten back, perhaps unhappy or apologetic (maybe embarrassed, it wasn't very elegant) but Lancelot just huffs amusement and strokes her again. ]

Forgive me, I almost forgot, it seems these -- [ He reaches out of the frame and his hand comes back holding a small, blue feather. ] -- have some kind of magic in them. It appears it does not discriminate in who it grants it to.

[ Which means he now has a small, magically inclined dog. ]

Thank you for your time.

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[ she recognizes his voice, one might thinks she wouldn't but she does, she remembers it quiet clearly from old days and newer ones. ( he is dead, he is supposed to be dead, why isn't he dead? ) for the most part she ignores the dog, her mind racing with a myriad of thoughts and emotions.

( morgana never harbored any true ill will towards lancelot, regardless of all that happened. )

she has to know. ]

What of Guinevere? [ z-snap son. ]

Edited 2014-09-18 21:00 (UTC)

[ Lancelot's hands freeze -- at the name, at the voice.

He feels a chill run down his spine, and then.

Well. Of course, he could not be wrong. How could anyone ever forget the Lady Morgana? ]

Guinevere is a good name. I am not sure she would appreciate having a dog named for her, however.

[ his reaction confirms it, at least for the most part, and truly she isn't certain how to feel. somewhere perhaps she knew the dead could appear in this land, for it is land filled to the brim with magic, yet she never expected any of her dead to return.

( that background... is he close to mair? ) ]

Perhaps not, she might find it insulting now that a crown sits her head.

[ morgana is gauging, testing the waters by throwing rocks. and in the background a white shadow shifts in it's sleep. ]

Edited 2014-09-18 21:19 (UTC)

[ A crown?

There's a pause as Lancelot processes this. ]

Forgive me, you must be mistaken. Guinevere may love Arthur very much but she is not his Queen.

[ ah, so she has not been crowned in his memory. she turns her head to speak a single word, a raven crows loudly before disappearing in a flutter of wings. her pretty bird will find him if he is close. ]

Odd, I was certain they ruled Camelot together as King and Queen.

Perhaps in Arthur's dreams.

[ Perhaps in Gwen's, too. He could not say.

The distant sound of water flowing can be heard near him, and sure enough he is not far from the river. There is little in the way of shelter to conceal him, and the horses stick out as much as anything. He wears not the marks of Caer Glaem overtly, travelling this close to Mair and in dangerous territory, but he does wear the marks of Reynard's displeasure -- even if he does not show them in the locket beyond his wrists. ]

You seem well, Lady Morgana. The courts here suit you?

[ is arthur not yet crowned in his memory? does he not remember his own sacrifice? does he not remember healing the tear in the veil?

his wounds that mirror her own, though they remain hidden by her sleeves they throb with the memory of that dark pit and the laughter of cruel men. without realizing it she takes a hold one of her own wrists, a slow rub trying to sooth the pain.

( somewhere she remembers watching him sleep in her hovel, she remembers the sadness she had felt gazing upon him. ) ]

I missed some of the comforts, the beds and warm baths the most.

Then I hope there is some peace some peace to be found. Sorcery is respected in this realm. Perhaps that changes things for you.

[ By 'perhaps' he means he knows it does. She can be free and open here. She does not have to fight for that.

He watches her hands twitch to rub at her wrist and absently mimics the movement with one hand. ]

Can I ask how long you have been here?

Edited (repetition ) 2014-09-19 11:41 (UTC)

Perhaps it does, I no longer have to hide in fear for my life.

[ there is a bitterness in her voice, an anger that sits just beneath her skin still. ]

Six months.

[ somewhere behind him a raven crows, by the sound it is close but there is no sight of the bird. the flutter of wings are also loud enough to further suggest that it is very close. which it is, close enough to peck at lancelot's ears if it was so inclined. ]

I think we all fear for our lives here.

[ He startles, though, at the sound of the raven -- and she'll see his hands release the dog as he turns and squints at it.

Lancelot is not blind to the implication. He studies it a moment, then turns back and tilts the locket so she can see him -- see the cuts and bruises patterning his face, too. He looks tired. ]

Your friend, I take it. What is it you want?

[ queerly the sight makes her flinch, perhaps because it is so similar to her own experiences. for all intents and purposes she should not care, lancelot ruined her plans once yet she cannot find the anger she is certain she should be feeling.

the raven crows again and is suddenly visible, head twitching as it stares at both lancelot and his dog. ]

I want you to come to Mair willingly, or I shall fetch you myself. [ the presence of her bird tells her much, it proves that certainly is not far from mair. close enough that she could retrieve him swiftly. ]

Edited 2014-09-20 21:05 (UTC)

Mair?

[ That's an Unseelie stronghold. Morgana is Unseelie.

It does not surprise him that they are on opposing sides, so he supposes in turn she might guess he is not on hers. ]

Forgive me if I dare to ask why?

[ she already knows he is of the seelie even without him saying so, she knows this knight too well to assume he is of the unseelie. ]

Your life is not in danger, just indulge me. [ truly she doesn't mean him any harm, though to announce her intentions... ]

It will be if I walk into Mair. I have already walked into one Unseelie stronghold, my lesson has been learned harshly.

[ her brow furrows, this is not wholly unexpected. they were enemies in camelot and here it is hardly different, even so─ ]

I will walk you inside myself, does that sooth your concerns?

Edited (no go away subject line) 2014-09-20 23:01 (UTC)

[ He debates this, turning over the thought in his head. ]

Would you also swear to walk me out, safe and unharmed?

Yes, I swear it.

[ On the one hand, this is a terrible idea.

Morgana ripped the veil, deceived Camelot and Arthur and --

He's pretty sure Arthur would lose his mind if he knew what was happening.

On the other, they do not have to fight here. The courts may wish them enemies but there is no Camelot. For all he knows she might not even be aware Arthur is here. ]

I will turn towards Mair. Meet me part way.

[ He hesitates. ]

Not because I fear you, but some natives to the courts -- they can sense your allegiance even if you wish no quarrel. I do not belong in Mair, I might raise an alarm and cause you trouble.

[ how foolish, he should fear her after all she has done. but truly she does not know what he remembers and what he does not, he may not even experienced the veil tearing or her sister's immortal army taking over camelot. ]

Very well. [ with that her locket goes dark. the time between her last words and her appearance is not long, her horse is saddled before she even reaches the stables. and finding him is no arduous task. she is before him not long after, on the other side of the river.

her raven crows again (turning invisible once more) and flies for her, landing upon her shoulder. ]

Edited 2014-09-22 20:36 (UTC)

[ Lancelot is holding a soft conversation with a ferryman as she rides up. His face is furrowed with exhaustion, marked with cuts and bruises and his wrists are raw under the leather guards from squirming in their bindings. His dog looks up as soon as it senses her approaching, eyes sharp as it watches. After a moment it sidesteps closer to Lancelot, head down and ears flicking back warily.

He looks over and for a moment he just watches her.

She is still Lady Morgana, but equally she has betrayed Camelot. She has turned on it in anger, but it is an anger he does not fully understand. Anger at Uther? Yes. Uther enacted the laws that made her and her people suffer. He was cruel and at times unjust. He feared what he did not understand. Arthur, though? Arthur may not fully be able to accept things as quickly as he could but Arthur was working toward slowly righting wrongs. Surely he was learning? Surely she could see that?

Perhaps not fast enough for her. Perhaps not well enough.

Here, though, what can Morgana do? Killing him would do her little good. Perhaps it is curiosity, perhaps it is naïvety, but Lancelot wants to know. He hands the reins of his horse to the ferryman, watches him steady the animal as the craft dips and wobbles under its weight before scooping up his dog and stepping on.

He may as well make the crossing. If Morgana wished to find him it seems she could anyway, her birds could track him even if he turned now and left. What point is there in running when he could simply walk to his fate and listen?

The craft is pushed away from the bank slowly and Lancelot glances back long enough to check he isn't being watched, to study the slowly shrink sight of the other bank before he turns curious eyes back to Morgana. When the ferry is close enough he jumps clear carelessly, takes the reins of his horse and lets it splash off the planks of the craft and up onto the bank.

His dog jumps clear and hops to catch up, hanging by his feet and regarding Morgana warily -- unsure if she should be defending him from her or greeting her. ]

[ seeing him she can only think of the lake, of the coin she threw into it and the man who emerged. he had been a near blank slate, uncertain of who she was or where he had been but placing himself at her command. it had pleased her as much as it saddened her. but there is more life in him now, cautious of her as he should be.

lancelot has always been noble but he has never been a fool, he knows of the things she has done, the look on his face tells her that much.

( part of her wished that she had been fooled, that he was dead as he should have been. but he isn't, he is alive and somewhere it has seeded a foolish hope in her. )

she keeps atop her horse, head held high as if she was regarding nothing more than a speck of dirt. it would not foolish of her if she revealed her intentions or what flit about her mind, she rather have his caution than his pity. ]

You look more poorly than I thought.

I will survive, that is all that matters.

[ The puppy twitches her ears unhappily, stalks forward a step to stand between them. ]

Why did you ask me here?

[ Lancelot has been burned already. He wishes it to be so that here, so far from home, their quarrels are put aside but he fears it is not so. He fears his trust will be broken again. ]

Your wounds will fester if not seen to. [ morgana seems to utterly ignore the puppy as she moves between them, her gaze focused solely on lancelot, the canine may as well not exist. ] Not even you will make it back to Caer Glaem without treatment, your strength will falter in the end.

[ she does not answer him out right, mostly she ignores his question entirely. ]

I have kept them clean.

[ As best he can.

Answer the question. ]

[ no. she doesn't want to! ]

Does it matter? [ it really shouldn't! lets not poke at her motivations, lets just accept them and trust she is totally not up to something devious. ] I have not come to kill you, nor do I have any desire to.

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