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 ❖R E U N I O N❖, Mordred & Arthur
Be my mirror, my sword and shield, my missionaries in a foreign field. For some reason I can't explain I know St Peter won't call my name. Never an honest word; but that was when I ruled the world
54
POSTS
physically sixteen
Fate/PROTOTYPE
Heroic Spirit
Servant Saber
Maddox (He/Him)
He/Him
I used to rule the world...
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone...
❖R E U N I O N❖
Rage boiled hot, driving actions that would house regret-- but such thoughts were silenced with such emotions. And the King of Knights felt nothing beyond the red haze of anger for his prodigal abomination. Guards that kept the leaders of the country of Wildwall were nothing but flies against the holy steel of his blade, vengeance driving the king as gilded armor crunched through the front garden. The royal hue of his cape billowed behind his person, his hood lifted to conceal his cornsilk tresses, forest irises glowing with hell fire. The painted, lacquered wooden door at the threshold to the boy's grand home yielded to his kick with ease.

It had been a shock to his system, to see the names "Pendragon" and "Mordred" posted in the train station upon his arrival to the wooded haven, boasting the combination as a "leader" of the esteemed nation. Blinding had been the sudden surge of anger. Mordred was not fit to breathe air, let alone lead anything. The trust he had placed in the boy, the chance he had extended in good faith had been spat upon, nay, shat upon. To think the fool could lead with dignity and trust was to believe swine the ability of flight. And Arthur would end this like he had once long ago when the boy betrayed him the first time.

"MORDRED!" The father billowed out through the halls of the large home, in his grasp sang Excalibur, the song one of warning to all who stood against him. Mythril clanked against strong wood as he walked down the first hall that he laid eyes upon, "MORDRED! I KNOW WELL YOU ARE IN HERE!" The voice of the king billowed out as he searched the home for its current resident. How had the bastard son of his lived, returned? He was no Heroic Spirit. Heretic and traitor were not the traits of a hero, this Arthur was sure.

Pushing forth a large, ornate interior door, the concealed blade ready to strike if need, Arthur's burning optics would fall upon... a girl. There was a small pause in his through process as he gazed upon the female, before looking around the room for the boy who had betrayed him, killed him. His eyes cast back down upon the female who sat in the room, "Where is he, girl? Where has he been hidden? Mordred, my son. Out with it quickly, now." The king spoke as if talking to a commoner and not the leader that she was.


NOTES: Arthur; The worst home invasion artist since Home Alone.
COUNT: 421 TAG: @MORDRED PENDRAGON
I'm sorry father, but I'm going to destroy you. And this time, your pet wizard won't save you.
61
POSTS
SIXTEEN
Fate/Apocrypha
HOMUNCULUS
WILDEWALL LEADER
Rally (She/her)
She/her He/him
All the way back here, she was free from the constant requests of her constituents. The little people whining about being slighted at the market. The slightly less little people whining about being slighted at the feast table. Bah to all of it. This was her personal time. And if that meant she had to look over papers, then she would look over papers.

A sudden flurry of fury at her eyes and Mordred's eyes lit up in alarm. Any duties she performed in the Head House were of the toilsome variety. Never did anyone enter with battle malice. And yet this man had done just that. He had done so swiftly enough that no one had been able to send word ahead. So he was not just a wannabe invader, but one had already achieved a fair amount of his goal. Shock gave way to anger as the words he spoke settled in. Clarent formed at her side, the belt that held the sheathed blade wrapped itself over her clothing.

"I-I don't know who you believe yourself to be, but the question betrays your ignorance," she replied, anger and uncertainty jumbling the words, "Because the only Mordred who lives here is looking right you. And you-" She paused. She had intended to say that he looked nothing like her father, but that would have been a lie. He was obviously different. Mordred's father was... prettier. This man claiming to be a father of a Mordred was... of the handsome sort. But he was otherwise not so different than the image Mordred saw in the mirror. Anyone would pick them out as relations, as surely as they would identify Gawain to be her cousin.

"You're making a mistake if you think you'll talk to me like that." What in Annwn was going on? It was a lot easier to sound tough when she wasn't as confused as a duck in a chicken show. She began to follow him around the room, feeling a bit violated that he would do so this freely. Her hand gripped tightly on Clarent's hilt. Some strange man with her family's eyes, just marching about. What was this strange world coming to? "I'm Mordred Pendragon and I will not have you searching for lost boys in my room no matter how great of names they have."

There was something about his commanding voice that she couldn't replicate. Her demands were instead made with a less regal timbre. Should she have drawn her weapon now? Manifested her armor? A previous encounter in the Head House had left her questioning this divine test business. Perhaps she should move back to fighting first and asking for forgiveness later... Or just fighting and not worrying about it at all. Hitting him would feel great in comparison to the indecision.


@ARTHUR PENDRAGON Oh boy xD
Be my mirror, my sword and shield, my missionaries in a foreign field. For some reason I can't explain I know St Peter won't call my name. Never an honest word; but that was when I ruled the world
54
POSTS
physically sixteen
Fate/PROTOTYPE
Heroic Spirit
Servant Saber
Maddox (He/Him)
He/Him
I used to rule the world...
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone...
❖R E U N I O N❖
Arthur's eyes looked to the young woman before him, his brow furrowing at her proclamation as he held open a door that leads into a lavatory. This woman was clearly delusional, even though the boy he sought could very well look just like her if he had been born a woman. She looked so much like the daughters of his mother. Silver armor clanged to the floor as he turned and walked toward the small woman, his sword returning to his hip before he crossed his arms upon reaching the one claiming to be his son. "Woman, you might look Pendragon, but you resemble a younger Morgana le Fey than you do my son." His head lifted a bit, leaning into her face.

"And besides. My son is just that. A SON. I care not that you try to protect him, he is a terrible boy. He killed my people, men, women, and children in the worst way. He raped my queen, he destroyed my kingdom, all while I was on crusade. You would be wise not to protect such a terrible man. A fair lady as yourself..." He would feel a draw to the girl, almost a parental bond of a father looking upon a daughter he never had. And Arthur had always wanted a daughter, yet Gwenivere refused him the honor. He had to pull his eyes from the girl, and looked about the room.

Arthur had been considered a wise man in his elder years, as he walked about the room once more. But of his younger years, Arthur had always been a bit of a foolish one. They would claim it was his inexperience, they would whisper it was the idiocy of youth. But in reality, it was neither, but the reliance of Merlin that had hindered him, only when Vivian locked away the wizard had the King finally bloomed. He could sense the presence of a great warrior, so he was here... hiding.

Arthur soon hit a hard pause in his searching. His eyes would lift from where he was looking, and fall upon the woman standing in the middle of the room, Dumbfounded. Heroic Spirit. Female. Mordred Pendragon. Leader... The king looked gobsmacked for a few minutes before his eyes narrowed. Shifting, the king would pull out his sword, the wind barrier that kept it hidden bellowing to life, "What is this!? Mordred is now my daughter and not my son!? Explain this, Daughter. Your king and father demands it!"


NOTES: sorry for the wait!
COUNT: 417 TAG: @MORDRED PENDRAGON
I'm sorry father, but I'm going to destroy you. And this time, your pet wizard won't save you.
61
POSTS
SIXTEEN
Fate/Apocrypha
HOMUNCULUS
WILDEWALL LEADER
Rally (She/her)
She/her He/him
The confusion was confounding, but at his stream of accusations, it became engulfed in the anger. She had no greater understanding of this event than he. But just as he did, she too was becoming more certain that the two of them were from very close dimensional neighborhoods. She understood little of the magic or science that ruled over dimensions, but surely their worlds were like yellow and red roses. She could feel the familiar power of the noble blade as it was revealed. That was her father's weapon.

And thus every accusation he lay at his Mordred's feet was just as much lain at hers. It was true that the banners that had flocked to her were made of men who were honest about their true nature. They didn't hide behind false piety. Not all of them were predators, but few of them were prey. It was honesty that united them. The type that had been absent from her father's rule.

But Mordred had never touched the Queen. She could ill stand the sight or sound of crying women. And she had began her rebellion while the King had been hunting Lancelot in the land of the Franks, not during a Crusade. It was not the church that had directed his absence, but the need to fix a mistake that had lead to the deaths of Mordred, and the King's cousins. The treason that Mordred had helped to expose.

"Had you been even a slight degree more worthy of your titles, I might have doubted your identity, Excalibur or not," she snapped, chest heaving as the raw emotions mixed with the extra-planar essence of the faewyld. She let in as much as she could take. "But you are most certainly of the same cloth as my father. Breaking in, making demands, calling me a lady as you bare steel against me. Truly the hypocritical father of chivalry."

Did he aim to kill her then? For her own honor, she would rather die with her sword in her hand, as she had the first time. But drawing her weapon would also give his execution legitimacy. Did she care more about her honor or allowing this Arthur to show his true nature? He would probably tell this story as if she had attacked him, sword in hand, either way. Too bad for him he would have no way of placing her armor upon her. Drawing Clarent without her helmet on would also activate the Right of Pedigree, which would further prove her identity, but he seemed to be adequately convinced.


@ARTHUR PENDRAGON All good!
Be my mirror, my sword and shield, my missionaries in a foreign field. For some reason I can't explain I know St Peter won't call my name. Never an honest word; but that was when I ruled the world
54
POSTS
physically sixteen
Fate/PROTOTYPE
Heroic Spirit
Servant Saber
Maddox (He/Him)
He/Him
I used to rule the world...
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone...
❖R E U N I O N❖
Green hues narrowed a moment before softening, Exclabur returned to it's shieth before turning to walk toward a window to ponder this. Could it be the woman behind his was from a different time line than his own. Woe struck him as he shifted to look at the girl, "So, if I understand this properly. You are Mordred. Not my own, not my son, yet the daughter of another... I bore no daughters, only a son..." He would look down, his eyes full of both confusion and the deep consideration of what was... and what it could all mean.

His eyes would lift to the girl once more, her angry gaze and pouted lip look so much like the woman he remembered as her mother, yet she looked very much, painfully much, like a little female him with other features dashed in. It was then, only then that the rage in the man comletely disapated. He couldn't strike a woman, no matter how terrible he name was and what haunting past it held for him.

Ushering a sigh, the King dropped to one knee and bowed his head, "I don't comepletely understand what this is, be it your world of camelot and mine are different, or if one of us is a failed summons and is unaware... You are right. To call you a lady and then to raise my sword upon you is a very much hypocritical to what I have strived to be. I am not a good king, and never claimed to be. I hope you will not blame this man for his misdeeds conducted in confusion, but forgive him."

There was a small pause in his words, before he looked up at the beautiful girl, "If the Morgana I knew had bore you for me, I believe I would have cherished you. I have always wanted a daughter..." the words were soft, almost as if not meant to be spoken aloud even as they were.


@MORDRED PENDRAGON take this rubbish away from me my feels my feels
I'm sorry father, but I'm going to destroy you. And this time, your pet wizard won't save you.
61
POSTS
SIXTEEN
Fate/Apocrypha
HOMUNCULUS
WILDEWALL LEADER
Rally (She/her)
She/her He/him
tw: brief reference to child abuse
The energy of the faewyld were always difficult to stomach. Mordred had trained in channelling this energy as often as she had trained with a sword. But as a novice, she had been ignorant of how it would feel to be an adept. But this man's words had washed away her skill. She clutched onto the power like a child, but one that knew of better.

The father she had fought alongside had claimed a love for her. But it had been a lie. The truth had been quick to follow. A father who truly loved her wouldn't deny her any birthrights. A king who loved their son would name him heir. All she had wanted was that love.

This one said he would cherish her. He was on his knees asking for forgiveness and declaring it. It had to be a trick. Why would he want a daughter over a son? Noble sons were heirs. They passed on the family name and legacy. Noble daughters were bargaining tools. They secured alliances through marriages and babies. Her mother had said it herself: A girl would have been useless.

Why would a man who already had the advantage surrender that advantage and attempt to secure another?

She let the power within her drop.

"I'm not-" Would have cherished you. "Father I-" Always wanted a daughter. She put a hand to her head and sealed her eyes. Damn those words. They echoed inside of her mind as her own words caught in her throat.

'You are not a girl, Mordred.' Her hand moved from her head to rub against the opposite wrist. She could almost feel the result of that conversation as though it had just taken place.

"I'm a knight, Father. Not something to be traded off to lay at the feet of a foreign lord. I may not be... the kind of Mordred you remember, but I'm a knight, you got it? Not a pretty bird for some cage..."

She stepped off to the side, her chest felt hollow.

Be my mirror, my sword and shield, my missionaries in a foreign field. For some reason I can't explain I know St Peter won't call my name. Never an honest word; but that was when I ruled the world
54
POSTS
physically sixteen
Fate/PROTOTYPE
Heroic Spirit
Servant Saber
Maddox (He/Him)
He/Him
I used to rule the world...
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone...
❖r e u n i o n❖
TW: Rape Mention

A smile bore across his lips, as he pushed himself to stand. She was so much like the Mordred he had come to abhor— That bastard son that though he could take everything from him, even his queen. He had forced himself upon the woman, an act that was most unforgivable. Yet this lass was different on the same level, like the laurels on the other side of a coin. He would sigh, her conviction in her words could not stop his smile from brimming wide. It was clear to him that they had come from two different lines, yet they were cut from the same cloth.

He could atone. It was his wish, he deepest wish was to have never pulled the sword from the stone— yet here he could fulfil the smallest part of his wish. Atonement for his sins against his son. Sins that he bore into the boy, that pushed him down the path that he had walked. He could blame Mordred for his choices, for his path… But as a father he had to reflect upon himself and his choices as a man and father to understand where he had gone wrong… and he had all that time in the halls of Akasha to reflect, to study and realise…

He would just look so proud, before tilting his head to gaze upon the young woman whom not only held his features but his spirit and defiance. “I have no doubt you are a knight worthy of the round. You hold the name Pendragon and you carry the spirit I expect of one whom does.” He said with his obvious pride filling his voice, not a hint of belittlement in his tone, “Besides, if a man would want my daughter’s hand, he would have to earn it, on her terms. She is not a prize to be won, she is a Pendragon. And with her hand comes a woman a man should be proud to call not just a wife, but a partner.” He would nod to this.

And if any man thinks otherwise, his fate will be sealed as a bloodstain upon my Excalibur.


@MORDRED PENDRAGON Daddy Arthur is a better daddy now than he was when he was alive lol.
I'm sorry father, but I'm going to destroy you. And this time, your pet wizard won't save you.
61
POSTS
SIXTEEN
Fate/Apocrypha
HOMUNCULUS
WILDEWALL LEADER
Rally (She/her)
She/her He/him
"That is a nice thought." she smirked briefly as she imagined the scene he painted. Some brute of a man drowning in his own blood for transgressions against her. But this time, it wasn't by Mordred's own hands. Someone might raise a sword in her name. Not as a distant authority figure that offered change, that one only knew by reputation and stolen glimpses. But as the person she was.

But the smirk faded and she grimaced again. Her knuckles tightened as she tried to work through it. She was being a fool. She knew it. All of this inner turmoil was a sign of weakness. Emotions she should have purged. Silly fantasies that had no place in shaping who she was. How could she want what he offered? After everything she had staked her name to, how could she believe that he would want to make amends? That either of them were capable of restoring that bridge?

But damn it all, what if that was just her mother talking? What if her desire to not be manipulated by this version of her father only meant she was still tied to a mother who was not here in any form? A mother who could never love her. A mother who didn't know what love was.

What did Mordred want? Not any king or knight of the table round. Not any witch, queen or warlord. She wanted to do what was best for her.

"My whole life was centred around you. First your legend, then your service and finally your downfall. And I know you cannot tell me that you can forget everything that I -er- he did. How could you love me when all of that will forever swim inside of your mind? How can we have this dream you speak of?"


Be my mirror, my sword and shield, my missionaries in a foreign field. For some reason I can't explain I know St Peter won't call my name. Never an honest word; but that was when I ruled the world
54
POSTS
physically sixteen
Fate/PROTOTYPE
Heroic Spirit
Servant Saber
Maddox (He/Him)
He/Him
I used to rule the world...
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone...
❖r e u n i o n❖
TW: Incest mention


He would sigh, and smile at the girl before him, an easy and soft smile, “Mordred, your are my child, no matter who’s loins you came from, no matter who your true parentage is— You have the blood of a dragon running through your veins. And as your father, I failed you— or rather your male counterpart I denied. I failed as a father due to fear. It was wrong of me to blame you for my faults, for my misdeeds. It is a Father’s duty to guide their son in the right direction, to teach them right from wrong. It is a father’s duty to love his son, and I did not do that.

His fingers would fist, his anger more at himself than anyone in this room, and his head would cast from the woman before him, the knight, “I cannot stand here as a man or king and blame my heir completely for his wrong doings, when they were because of me in the first place. My pride was my downfall, and it came swiftly from the one person meant to humble me. I will not give the shameful excuses of I was to young to be a father, nor that I wasn’t mean to have a heir… Whatever lies irresponsible men feed themselves, I fed myself.” He would shake his head, and look at the woman before him with such a painful gaze.

No, I want to take responsibility for my actions, and I want to seek atonement for them. If your Arthur was just as I was, and he does not seek the same, he cannot call himself a man. This is my wish, Mordred. The reason I sought the Grail. To be given the chance to atone for my sins, all of them. To be given the opportunity to correct the wrongs I committed, most of all to my child.” He would step closer, and once again drop to one knee before the image of his child. Male, Female— she was his blood. He could feel it to his core.

Allow me the honour, give me the chance to seek your forgiveness. I was a failure as a Father. I long, more than anything, to rectify that. Mordred, will you give this stupid man a chance to make up for his foolish pride and his terrible parentage? Will you grant me my wish?” His fingers would take hers, pressing his forehead the gentle fingers, and though they were dainty, it was clear they were the hands of a warrior. Like his.

He knelt at her feet, eyes to the floor as he once again reflected upon every wrong he committed as king… If Mordred accepted this, it would be the first step to correcting his missteps. His rage from before had been, and always had been, toward himself. He hated himself even before Mordred was born, and with the birth of the boy to his sister… his shame and disgust in himself had grown ten fold. As the boy grew, he was a reminder of how disgusting Arthur found himself. No, Mordred was not to blame in the slightest for his action, it was his failure as a father.

The only one he could blame was himself.


@MORDRED PENDRAGON - These feels are killing me slowly. -sob-
I'm sorry father, but I'm going to destroy you. And this time, your pet wizard won't save you.
61
POSTS
SIXTEEN
Fate/Apocrypha
HOMUNCULUS
WILDEWALL LEADER
Rally (She/her)
She/her He/him
Mordred had always blamed her king-father for the exact things that he admitted fault for now. She had told herself that none of her transgressions had needed to occur, if only she had been welcomed as a proper Pendragon. Just as he had said, there were no other children to contest her claim. There were no doubts that she was a mighty knight nor questions of her intellect. All that she had lacked for leadership had been the wisdom that should have come from parental guidance. This was all that had kept her from being whole.

The sight of the king kneeling was no less surreal for its second coming. On the path of rebellion, she had gotten it into her head to force her father to kneel at her feet, but never had she believed it would occur without bloodshed or force. She never had believed it would happen at all. If she had been victorious, it would only have come with the killing of King Arthur. Until then, Camelot would never have been united under her. So long as the king refused to allow her a chance at the Sword of Selection, that was.

His desire seemed so pure. His speech sounded genuine. There was no denying that he was speaking his truth.

”If this is your will, Father, I am willing to see where it takes us. I cannot say that I am without my reservations, for I am unsure of what concessions this will ask of me,” she said, also unsure of when it was she began to redden in her cheeks.Having never had a father who attempted to be a father, she was in uncharted territory. There would come a time when this was more than flowery niceties. In that moment, she could find herself regretting this moment. And if that time never came, she would regret this moment all the more, as she could pay someone for flowery niceties and be more carefree.

”But for now, I will stay my concerns if you would stand, truly, I prithee, stand,” she requested, finding herself embarrassed despite a lack of onlookers. ”I have the commoners of Wildewall to show me this level of deference-- Though I must ask if you intend to claim my position?” In a perfect world, she would have inherited Camelot after her father had finished ruling it. But now she was ruling a territory while her father remained fit enough to do it himself. It was a curious circumstance...


Be my mirror, my sword and shield, my missionaries in a foreign field. For some reason I can't explain I know St Peter won't call my name. Never an honest word; but that was when I ruled the world
54
POSTS
physically sixteen
Fate/PROTOTYPE
Heroic Spirit
Servant Saber
Maddox (He/Him)
He/Him
I used to rule the world...
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone...
❖r e u n i o n❖
TW: Again, Incest.


With a simple press to the floor, the king was mid-rise, an excitement buzzing about him as a child handed an unexpected gift would be-- the gift being a daughter he never thought he would have, a daughter who was also a knight, a woman in her own right and yet still was Mordred. He could hug her if she didn't look so scared of what she agreed too, of what path she had just agreed to walk down. He didn't know yet what was acceptable and what was not, he didn't know yet what would be their norm.

He could only hope for better than the norm that had been when he had lived, only pray that this Mordred wasn't as defiant as his Mordred had been-- and yet that had, decidedly, also been because he had avoided giving the lad any of the attention or protections due to him even as a bastard of the king. Had the Arthur this girl knew not done the same? She couldn't help to be the result of a night long tryst between siblings, siblings that were unaware of their relation. No one was to blame for her conception, nor his son. Arthur understood that now.

A small, kind smile played across his lips, as she spoke of the fear of Arthur taking her position that she held before he would slowly shake his head, "No, my child. My place is in Elestis, protecting my master. I have no intention of taking what it is you have earned. However, if you ever need advice, or wish to have an ear over the stresses of ruling, I am at your disposal." He would nod once, "You have no need to worry. My entrance--" He would cast his gaze down the hall.

The entrance door sat off its hinge, there was blood staining the hardwood, and the man could only sigh loudly. Mithril finally vanished from the man's form, the lack of armour revealing that he bore a relaxed red shirt of worsted wool boasting half sleeves, and blue jeans that clung to his hips and legs well. Upon his feet were a pair of boots, brown in tone and meant for walking. Pressing his hands to his hips, the once noble looking king ushered a long, slow sigh, "I came to get some fresh vegetables for my master, but now I'll be doing house repair. I hope master will forgive my tardiness..."


@MORDRED PENDRAGON
I'm sorry father, but I'm going to destroy you. And this time, your pet wizard won't save you.
61
POSTS
SIXTEEN
Fate/Apocrypha
HOMUNCULUS
WILDEWALL LEADER
Rally (She/her)
She/her He/him
Mordred clicked her tongue in acknowledgement of the lack of succession issues.That made it easier. She had not wished to relinquish her position and was unsure of how far she would have been willing to go to secure it. This agreement between them could have been quickly shattered. Or too much of her own desires tossed away in the name of a type of love she had never known. She cocked her head flippantly, jostling her hair. ”Very well. Avoiding you would make all of this pointless, after all. So I guess I could visit you with a question every now and then…”

She found it curious that he had taken a Master in this world. She had needed no tether to maintain an existence ever since she had found herself on that train. What she had found here was more akin to a second shot at life. This had been one of the reasons she had believed it was the workings of the gods, rather than human magecraft. Did he need a Master where she did not? Or had he chosen one for some other reason?

”Eh? House repair?” She asked, looking to the wreckage before turning back to Arthur. There was a magnificence to a King of Knight in full armor. This sight was different, but not bad, either. The change distracted her from the point she had been about to make. She reached forward to stop him, but grasped only air. Her pause had prevented her from moving quickly enough and her feet would not move.

”A-ah, Father! You may not be the lord of this estate, but you are the father of its lord. We have people for that,” she explained, her voice squeaking in an affronted manner. He truly was dead set on embarrassing her!


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