Staring contest with Galahad

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Before we begin, please set your Mordred's appearance. Eyes: <<cycle "$eye">> <<option "green eyes" "green">> <<option "blue eyes" "blue">> <<option "gray eyes" "gray">> <<option "brown eyes" "brown">> <<option "hazel eyes" "hazel">> <<option "violet eyes" "violet">> <<option "black eyes" "black">> <<option "amber eyes" "amber">> <</cycle>> Hair color: <<cycle "$hair">> <<option "dark brown, deep and rich and almost black." "dark brown">> <<option "chestnut brown, dark and lush." "chestnut brown">> <<option "light brown like honey." "light brown">> <<option "lush, dark blond." "dark blonde">> <<option "icy blond, cool and lush." "icy blonde">> <<option "golden blond, warm and lush." "golden blonde">> <<option "auburn, deep red." "auburn">> <<option "copper red, fiery." "copper red">> <<option "pure black like the midnight sky." "black">> <</cycle>> Hair type: <<cycle "$hair_type">> <<option "straight" "straight">> <<option "wavy" "wavy">> <<option "curly" "curly">> <<option "coily with corkscrew coils" "coilycurls">> <<option "coily and cloudlike" "coily">> <</cycle>> Complexion: <<cycle "$complexion">> <<option "ivory" "ivory">> <<option "warm beige" "warm beige">> <<option "cool beige" "cool beige">> <<option "rosy" "rosy">> <<option "tawny" "tawny">> <<option "olive" "olive">> <<option "light brown" "light brown">> <<option "sepia brown" "sepia brown">> <<option "golden brown" "golden brown">> <<option "russet brown" "russet brown">> <<option "dark brown" "dark brown">> <<option "warm black" "warm black">> <<option "cool black" "cool black">> <<option "deep black" "deep black">> <</cycle>> Mordred's agab (at this point in the story, trans Mordred is not yet out): <<cycle "$gender">> <<option "male" "male">> <<option "female" "female">> <</cycle>> [[Next, some questions about your Mordred's personality and choices|SetMordred]]

<div class="titlelettersone" style='font-size: 100%;'>Llamagirl</div>

<<set $eye = "unknown">> <<set $hair = "unknown">> <<set $gender = "unknown">> <<set $magic = 50>> <<set $swordsmanship = 0>> <<set $persuasion = 50>> <<set $intimidation = 50>> <<set $deceit = 50>> <<set $independent = 50>> <<set $pendragon_magic = "1">> <<set $water_magic = 50>> <<set $honest = 50>> <<set $confident = 50>> <<set $impulsive = 50>> <<set $calm = 50>> <<set $kind = 50>> <<set $defiant = 50>> <<set $emotional = 50>> <<set $affable = 50>> <<set $complexion = "none">> <<set $age = "a few days old">> <<set $controlled_magic = 50>> <<set $hair_type = "no">> <<set $gawain_friend to false>> <<set $dragon_name = "">> <<set $dragon_he = "he">> <<set $dragon_him = "him">> <<set $dragon_He = "He">> <<set $dragon_personality = "">> <<set $met_callum to false>> <<set $defiant to false>> <<set $crybaby = 0>> <<set $chapt3_shyness = 0>> <<set $forest = 0>> <<set $treat = 0>> <<set $Galahad = 0>>

<<link "Stats" "stats">><</link>> <<link "Credits">> <<script>> Dialog.setup("Credits"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("credits").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <</link>>

Name: Known as Mordred Leudonus of Lothia - but more often than not called Mordred Le Fay Age: You are 12 years old. //A description of your likeness// You have $eye eyes, much like your parents, $hair $hair_type hair alike your mother's, Morgana and $complexion complexion like your father's, Arthur. <<link "« Return to game" $return>><</link>>

<a href="https://nyehilism.itch.io/twine-template/">Twine Sugarcube Template</a> <a href="https://www.motoslave.net/sugarcube/2/docs/">Sugarcube 2 Documentation</a> <a href="https://github.com/ChapelR/custom-macros-for-sugarcube-2">Chapel - custom macros collection</a> <a href="https://github.com/cyrusfirheir/cycy-wrote-custom-macros">Cycy's custom macros</a> <a href="https://unsplash.com/">Unsplash</a> for sidebar images (<a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/P8LZaU52NME">light mode</a> and <a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/pDKoVuXYKxU">dark mode</a>)

<div class="titlelettersone" style='font-size: 150%;'>The Bastard of Camelot</div>

<<silently>> <<if $gender == "male">> <<set $pgen to 0, $child to "child">> <<elseif $gender == "female">> <<set $pgen to 1, $child to "child">> <</if>> <</silently>> A few questions before we begin! Instead of going through each little choice that can increase or decrease Galahad's view of Mordred, define it here: <div class="choice">[[Galahad's cold facade is cracking; his starting to regard Mordred with puzzlement and troubled curiosity.|NextQuestion1][$Galahad to 19]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Galahad's cold facade is slowly, slowly cracking; he's regarding Mordred with wariness and confusion.|NextQuestion1][$Galahad to 14]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Galahad's cold and guarded around Mordred.|NextQuestion1][$Galahad to 10]]</div>

Are Mordred and Gawain friends? <div class="choice">[[Friends!|NextQuestion2][$gawain_friend to true]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Acquaintances.|NextQuestion2]]</div>

Your dragon friend's name is... <div class="choice">[[Malinda|DragonName][$dragon_name to "Malinda"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Drake|DragonName][$dragon_name to "Drake"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Bella|DragonName][$dragon_name to "Bella"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Finneas|DragonName][$dragon_name to "Finneas"]]</div> <<textbox "$dragon_name" "" "DragonName">>

What pronouns does $dragon_name use? <div class="choice">[[She/her.|NextQuestion5][$dragon_he to "she", $dragon_him to "her", $dragon_She to "She"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[He/him.|NextQuestion5][$dragon_he to "he", $dragon_him to "him", $dragon_He to "He"]]</div>

What's $dragon_name's personality like? <div class="choice">[[Playful.|NextQuestion6][$dragon_personality to "playful"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Friendly.|NextQuestion6][$dragon_personality to "friendly"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Bold.|NextQuestion6][$dragon_personality to "bold"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Fiery.|NextQuestion6][$dragon_personality to "aggressive"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Shy.|NextQuestion6][$dragon_personality to "shy"]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Fearful.|NextQuestion6][$dragon_personality to "fearful"]]</div>

Did Mordred sneak away from the feast with Gawain and met Callum (Galahad's dragon companion) in the lodge? <div class="choice">[[Yes.|NextQuestion9][$met_callum to true]]</div> <div class="choice">[[No.|NextQuestion9][$met_callum to false]]</div>

Would your Mordred be considered emotional/easy to cry? <div class="choice">[[Yes.|BeginStory][$crybaby to 5]]</div> <div class="choice">[[No.|BeginStory][$crybaby to 0]]</div>

[[On to the story!|Begin]]

Galahad woke up early - earlier than Gawain, who was sound asleep in his nest of blankets and pillows - and sat quietly down by the window. Slept came reluctantly the night before, kept at distance by gnawing worry. He'd lingered in his parents quarters until his mother assured him that Lancelot would be fine, and gently urged him to get rest. With his father ill and conscribed to his bed, there were no duties to attend to, besides timely rousing Gawain, who often had problem doing so himself. The boy could sleep through a thunderstorm, and lounge in the bed till afternoon if he had his way. Galahad, on the other hand, doubted he could sleep more even if he wanted to, pressing troubles aside. His father had impressed upon him the necessity to start the day early, regardless of duties. //It's the kind of discipline a knight needs//, he told him, and Gahalad took it to heart. He never had the heart to apply the same rule to Gawain though, so he let him sleep longer, till it turned to a reasonable hour, taking into account the utterly unreasonable time it took him to get ready. So Galahad sat alone with his thoughts, listening to Gawain's soft, steady breathing and gazing out the window at the town bathed in feeble golden light. And there were many thoughts to sift through. A whirlwind of them. Gloomy, writhing concern for his father. And difficult, contradictory, uneasy thoughts that he'd rather be rid of. He shook his head - it did nothing to clear it - and looked at the clock. [[Time to wake Gawain.|WakeGawain]]

He left Gawain to drowsily get ready while he slipped out the door, down the rousing hallways, muffled voices and movements trickling out from closed doors, headed for his parents' quarters. His father was visibly miserable still, but in better health than when Galahad saw him last night, heaving even after he'd upchuked everything in his stomach. The most unpleasant of his symptoms had alleviated, yet his fever did not give out, and brought along with it an entire suite of pains. The healers who milled about the chamber, checking on his health and administering medicine when necessary, assured him Sir Lancelot was recovering, slowly yet steadily. His father acknowledged his presence but spoke little, half-asleep and feverish. Galahad stopped instead to speak with his mother, who sat at the table, picking at breakfast, huddled close to Lady Camille whom she talked to in hushed tones. Elena offered a tender smile and stroked his hair. Camille filled a glass of tea for him and pushed a plate of sliced bread, browned to crisp golden and smathered with jam, before him. "What are your plans for today?" Elena asked, chin leant in palm. There were faint dark rings underneath her pale blue eyes. "Meet up with Callum." She nodded knowingly. "Alright. Afterwards the two of you will come with Camille and I to the fair?" Matters thus clinched, Galahad finished his breakfast and headed to the Alistairs, where Gawain was endeavoring to both stuff his face with food and fasten his jerkin. He accompanied Gawain down to the knights' pavilion, then continued on his way to the lodge. "There's a river in the woods," Callum said as they exited. In the distance, more and more people poured from the Castle, flowing in a colorful throng towards the arena. The knights were easy to pick out - their armor shone in the sun. "It isn't that far, especially if we fly," the dragon continued. He heaved a sigh. "I could really go for a flight. I scouted out the place yesterday, with Aria - I found a nice little strip of riverbank we could stay." They took off at a slow, languid pace, drifting easily through air. That was how Callum preferred flying, whenever not training; even then, Melker said he wasn't the fastest of dragons, but made up for it with his endurance and //spatial awareness//. They didn't head directly towards the spot Callum had found, meandering over the woods, relishing the cool air rushing against their skin. [[To the riverbank|ArriveRiver]]

Callum had been right. It truly was a nice little strip of riverbank, one of the more spacious he could glimpse from above. They settled comfortably by the rushing water, and talked for a while. Callum inquired after Lancelot, but they lingered little on such somber topics. They both wanted a respite from the tumult of the last days - especially Galahad. They turned the conversation on to the fair and feast, then the tournament. They'd been watching the trials from the sideline, taking note of everyone's technique and skill. The performance that most interested Galahad, however, was that of his own father. He knew it so well. He could tell the weight of his strikes, could see when the fatigue was starting to set in, could predict some of his next moves by the subtle tells he'd learned to look for. These were difficult to find even for him - Lancelot du Lac let little slip by. As he said, any vulnerability can be exploited on the battlefield. Galahad knew his moves and attacks and parries so well, he could reconstruct them perfectly in his mind's eye, yet not always so successfully in pratice. There were things he simply could not do - yet. He was determined to master it all, and then some more. As his father said, it wasn't enough to be the best - he needed to be //better//. "Saw those ice daggers father made?" Galahad asked. They were more than weapon, more than functional. They were a flashy display of his skill, a show of the control he exercised over his powers. To be able to shape such chiseled daggers out of ice, in the heat of the battle, at the flick of the wrist, was a great feat. "How perfect they looked." "Oh, they're very dramatic," Callum said, curled up on the grass. "And very pointy. Must be awful to be on the receiving end." Not for him with his scaled, armored skin, though. As Galahad stared into the clear water, foaming white and glimmering where it rushed over rocks and cascaded in small pools, an idea crystallized in his mind. "Let's give them a try." Callum raised his head, curious. Galahad's only reply was a small, playful smile, before he shifted closer to the river and fell into quick prayer. Callum now stood up on all fours, tail twitching with excitement. Galahad didn't just throw himself into attempting to recreate his father's daggers. Instead, he started with simple shapes; summoning round and jutted ice sculptures, like hailstorm, out of the river. It was play more than pratice. He raised the frozen shapes, and made them dance over the stream, around him and Callum like mishappen insects/birds. Callum tried to catch them with tail or snoot or talons before they melted back into liquid, chasing them up and down the bank, leaping about like a frog. They played like this for a while, each new wave of water he molded brought to a more refined shape, hewed to smoother forms. This came easy, provided the forms were of the simpler, plainer kind. Finally, Galahad worked his way to attempting the daggers. First, he fashioned them as rudimentary stakes; raised and dropped them a couple times. With each new try, he attempted finer detail. His brow creased in concentration, muscles tensed, and Callum, sensing the effort, settled down next to him, watching in anticipation. //This time,// Galahad thought, raising his arms, willing the water to follow. Wiggling his fingers, itching with magic, freezing, moulding, defining, giving it his all to build the image he held so clearly in his mind's eye. The water trembled, froze, shaped into stakes. Stakes he needed to further transform, to further hone... [[Stakes that turned into...|RiverWater]]

...into water, dripping back where they came from. A failure. His whole frame sagged, tension giving way to bitter disappointment. When his father did it, it came off so effortlessly - but in his hands, the magic felt so tremulous, so unyieldy, so slippery, as if he was struggling against more than he could handle. There was so much more he had yet to learn. So much self-control he lacked. Wordlessly, Callum pushed his snoot against his side, looking up with beseeching, big blue eyes and a small, tender smile. Galahad smiled back, faintly. There was no use moping and brooding about it, not now. Galahad raised him arms once again, but instead of attempting the damned daggers, he let water explode in a waterfall over them. Callum jumped in delighted surprise, opening his maw to catch the drops on his tongue. They both laughed, and the tension dispelled, evaporating like water in the sun. The telltale din of wings rumbled from behind them. Few dragons had passed over since they arrived, and all of them flew a distance away from their spot. Galahad turned. There was a dragon gliding over the treetops, about the same size and age as Callum. They weren't alone, either; someone sat atop their back. [[Mordred.|RiverMordredArrives]]

Mordred, frowning down at him from atop the dragon. Mordred, the one he least wanted to see. And ?they was headed straight for him. They landed close by, sending a cool wave washing over them that ruffled Galahad's hair and pulled at his cloak. <<if $Galahad >= 18>> Whyever would Mordred approach him, when he'd made it entirely clear that he wanted nothing to do with ?them - and considered the sentiment mutual. Galahad was intent on keeping watch - from a safe, wary distance, for proximity to snakes posed a danger. Yet a part of him wished to inch closer, in the hopes he'd learn more. Foolish, that part of him was. What was Mordred hoping to achieve by coming here anyway, other then ruin Galahad's day? It was supposed to be simple. The prophecy outlined it very plainly: Mordred was the undoing of Camelot. Mordred was a danger to them all. Yet meeting ?them complicated everything. ?They wasn't quite...what Galahad had built up in his mind. He had an image, and try as he might, he struggled to superpose it over the Mordred he'd met - a silhuette that eluded him, that tried to trick him. There were times when he saw exactly what he expected - what he was taught to look out for - and there were times when Mordred was but a muddy, hazy figure that made his head hurt. Yet the uglyness that lay in the future was known to him. <<elseif $Galahad >= 13>> Whyever would Mordred approach him, when he'd made it entirely clear that he wanted nothing to do with ?them - and he considered the sentiment very much mutual. Galahad was intent on keeping watch - from a safe, wary distance, for proximity to snakes posed a danger. Whatever Mordred wished to say, it could only mean trouble. But...Galahad couldn't deny there was a certain curiosity brewing in him - reluctant and apprehensive, a curiosity he shouldn't harbor, that he hated to even entertain. A curiosity that rankled more than intrigued him. Mordred wasn't quite what he'd built up in his head. The prophecy outlined it very plainly: ?they was the undoing of Camelot. ?They was a danger to them all. It was supposed to be //simple//. <<else>> Whyever would Mordred approach him, when he'd made it entirely clear that he wanted nothing to do with ?them - and the sentiment was very much mutual. Galahad was intent on keeping watch - from a safe, wary distance, for proximity to snakes posed a danger. Whatever Mordred wished to say, it could only mean trouble. <</if>> Mordred whirls around to face him, expression resolute. <div class="choice">[[Their motivation wasn't dampened, but they felt shyness creeping in.|Chapt3GalStubborn][$confident to $confident-5, $chapt3_shyness to 1]]</div> <div class="choice">[[They strode forward, fueled by their confidence.|Chapt3GalStubborn][$confident to $confident+5, $chapt3_shyness to 2]]</div>

<<if $chapt3_shyness == 1>> Mordred approached, wringing the hem of ?their cloak between nervous fingers. <<if $Galahad >= 18>> Galahad stared at ?them, and ?they stared back. Frowns etched in both their brows as they seized each other up, trying to make sense of what they saw. Then Mordred shook ?their head, broke the stare and stepped forward, arms crossed. As if to show ?they meant business, as if to convey some sort of purpose. Mordred said, "Look, you couldn't have known it, but this is my place. So you'd better leave." <<elseif $Galahad >= 13>> ?Their determination wavered for a moment of uncertainty and confusion. If that faltering had motivated ?them to turn around and leave, Galahad would have been content; but Mordred shook it off and advanced. ?They crossed ?their arms and said: "Look, you couldn't have known it, but this is my place. So you'd better leave." <<else>> In spite of it, ?they advanced, intent on doing whatever ?they came to do. Mordred crossed ?their arms and said: "Look, you couldn't have known it, but this is my place. So you'd better leave." <</if>> <<elseif $chapt3_shyness == 2>> Mordred strode forward, chin thrust forward. <<if $Galahad >= 18>> Galahad stared at ?them, and ?they stared back. Frowns etched in both their brows as they seized each other up, trying to make sense of what they saw. Then Mordred shook ?their head, broke the stare and stepped forward, arms crossed. As if to show ?they meant business, as if to convey some sort of purpose. Mordred said, "Look, you couldn't have known it, but this is my place. So you'd better leave." <<elseif $Galahad >= 13>> ?Their determination wavered for a moment of uncertainty and confusion. If that faltering had motivated ?them to turn around and leave, Galahad would have been content; but Mordred shook it off and advanced. Mordred crossed ?their arms and said: "Look, you couldn't have known it, but this is my place. So you'd better leave." <<else>> ?They was intent on doing whatever ?they came to do. Mordred crossed ?their arms and said: "Look, you couldn't have known it, but this is my place. So you'd better leave." <</if>> <</if>> So, this is what this was all about - claiming territory? It was, indeed, a very lovely patch of land - it was why Callum had chosen it in the first place, and it was easy to see why Mordred would come back here again and again. Galahad could have left, then and there. Relinquish the strip of riverbank and avoid any fuss that Mordred had already steeled ?themself against, judging by the determined posturing. If it were anyone else, Galahad would have relented. Instead, he said: "It's a forest, Mordred. You don't own it." <div class="choice">[["I come here all the time, so it's my place," Mordred pettishly replied.|Chapt3GalStubbornShy1][$forest to 1]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Well, actually, Lot owns it, and since I'm legally his child..." Mordred began, smug smile on.|Chapt3GalStubbornShy1][$forest to 2, $persuasion to $persuasion+1]]</div>

<<if $forest == 1>> "Yeah well I don't care," Mordred tetchily replied. ?They looked one moment away from stomping ?their foot to make ?their petulant point. "I come here all the time, therefore it's my place." Galahad was not moved by such //'strong'// arguments. "That does not make something yours." This wasn't even about the place, he suspected. Mordred could have easily chosen any other place to land, any other stretch of riverbank and return here once Galahad had left. Both their days would have been better off for it. Instead, ?they chose to come and make a point. Chose to come and stir trouble. Galahad could play at that game, too. <div class="choice">[["Isn't it enough how you treat me? Must you take this from me too?" Mordred frowned.|Chapt3GalStubbornShy2][$treat to 1]]</div> <div class="choice">[["I mean...Well! Of course it does." Mordred struggled to counter his argument.|Chapt3GalStubbornShy2][$treat to 2]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Why are you even here?" Mordred deflected. "Shouldn't you be with Gawain?"|Chapt3GalStubbornShy2][$treat to 3]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Why are you even here?" Mordred deflected. "Shouldn't you be by your father's side or whatever?"|Chapt3GalStubbornShy2][$treat to 4]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Whatever." Mordred left.|Chapt3GalStubbornShy2][$treat to 5]]</div> <<else>> Mordred lifted ?their chin, unthwarted. "Well, actually. I am, by all means, Lot's legitimate child. And he owns these lands. So that means that I too own them. Surely more than you do, anyway," ?they added with a smirk. Galahad was not moved by such //'strong'// arguments. In fact, he readily found a hole in Mordred's claim. "Does Lot support that claim?" This wasn't even about the place, he suspected. Mordred could have easily chosen any other place to land, any other stretch of riverbank and return here once Galahad had left. Both their days would have been better off for it. Instead, ?they chose to come and make a point. Chose to come and stir trouble. Galahad could play at that game, too. <div class="choice">[["Isn't it enough how you treat me? Must you take this from me too?" Mordred frowned, deflecting.|Chapt3GalStubbornShy2][$treat to 6]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Why are you even here?" Mordred deflected. "Shouldn't you be with Gawain?"|Chapt3GalStubbornShy2][$treat to 7]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Why are you even here?" Mordred deflected. "Shouldn't you be by your father's side or whatever?"|Chapt3GalStubbornShy2][$treat to 8]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Well he better," Mordred said. "A patch of forest is the least he can do."|Chapt3GalStubbornShy2][$treat to 9]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Whatever." Mordred left.|Chapt3GalStubbornShy2][$treat to 5]]</div> <</if>>

<<if $treat == 1>> "Isn't it enough the way you treat me?" Mordred demanded, voice dripping with frustration. "Must you take this away from me? A patch of forest?" <<if $Galahad >= 20>> The way //he// treated ?them? Mordred was speaking as if Galahad was a bully and it gave him an ill-defined sense of unease, stirring in the pit of his stomach. No. He couldn't falter. He wasn't a bully - he wasn't trying to be one - but a shield. A shield standing in front of everything that Mordred threatened to destroy. His expression steeled. "Just move farther down the river." <<else>> He tensed - Mordred spoke as if he was a bully. But he was simply the shield standing in front of everything that Mordred threatened to destroy. He said, "Just move farther down the river." <</if>> Galahad had dug his heels in, but Mordrid did so even deeper. "No, //you// move down the river." <<if $dragon_personality == "aggressive">> "Yeah, you move along!" a gravelly voice echoed, punctuated by a low, menacing growl. It was ?their dragon companion, who had been hanging behind Modred this time, watching everything quietly. <<elseif $dragon_personality == "bold">> "Exactly! Move along, quickly now," a gravelly voice echoed. It was ?their dragon companion, who had been hanging behind Modred this time, watching everything quietly. They bristled at Galahad, looking none too pleased with him. <<else>> Behind Mordred, ?their dragon friend shifted, eyeing Galahad uneasily. <</if>> <div class="choice">[[If Galahad thought Mordred would relent, he was sorely mistaken.|MordredStays]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Whatever." Mordred left.|MordredLeaves]]</div> <<elseif $treat == 2>> "I mean..." Mordred floundered to give a a new argument, and so clung on to the flimsy one ?they already had. "Well! Of course it does." Galahad leveled ?them with an unimpressed look. <<if $dragon_personality == "aggressive">> "Yeah, you move along!" a gravelly voice echoed, punctuated by a low, menacing growl. It was ?their dragon companion, who had been hanging behind Modred this time, watching everything quietly. <<elseif $dragon_personality == "bold">> "Exactly! Move along, quickly now," a gravelly voice echoed. It was ?their dragon companion, who had been hanging behind Modred this time, watching everything quietly. They bristled at Galahad, looking none too pleased with him. <<else>> Behind Mordred, ?their dragon friend shifted, eyeing Galahad uneasily. <</if>> <div class="choice">[[If Galahad thought Mordred would relent, he was sorely mistaken.|MordredStays]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Whatever." Mordred left.|MordredLeaves]]</div> <<elseif $treat == 3>> "Why are you even here?" Mordred demanded. Coming short of an actual, reasonable answer, ?they resorted to evasion. "Shouldn't you be with Gawain?" "It's none of your business," Galahad curtly said. <<if $gawain_friend is true>> Galahad could ask the same thing of Mordred. He didn't appreciate how close the two were growing to be. Gawain was none the wiser to the full grim picture that Mordred presented, and he doubted that knowing the prophecy would dimish any of his plucky optimism. As endearing and sweet as it was, Galahad couldn't shake the prickle of dread that it'd only end up hurting Gawain. <</if>> <<if $dragon_personality == "aggressive">> "Yeah, you move along!" a gravelly voice echoed, punctuated by a low, menacing growl. It was ?their dragon companion, who had been hanging behind Modred this time, watching everything quietly. <<elseif $dragon_personality == "bold">> "Exactly! Move along, quickly now," a gravelly voice echoed. It was ?their dragon companion, who had been hanging behind Modred this time, watching everything quietly. They bristled at Galahad, looking none too pleased with him. <<else>> Behind Mordred, ?their dragon friend shifted, eyeing Galahad uneasily. <</if>> <div class="choice">[[If Galahad thought Mordred would relent, he was sorely mistaken.|MordredStays]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Whatever." Mordred left.|MordredLeaves]]</div> <<elseif $treat == 4>> "Why are you even here?" Mordred demanded. Coming short of an actual, reasonable answer, ?they resorted to evasion that was meant to sting. "Shouldn't you be by your ailing father's side or whatever?" His muscles grew taut and his skin prickled. "I could ask the same of you." Mordred didn't seem to appreciate ?their question thrown back. ?They set ?their jaw and gave no answer. <<if $dragon_personality == "aggressive">> Behind Mordred, ?their dragon friend let out a low, warning growl. It didn't scare him. Your dragon growls lowly. <<elseif $dragon_personality == "bold">> "Hey!" a voice called out in the dragon language, raspy and aggravated. "It's //your// father's fault for Accolon's state." The memories sprung to the forefront of his mind in lurid clarity: the Lothian knight, bloodied and bruised on the arena floor. His stomach roiled - at the sight of it, at his father's part in it, at all it made him feel. <<else>> Behind Mordred, ?their dragon friend shifted, eyeing Galahad uneasily. <</if>> <div class="choice">[[If Galahad thought Mordred would relent, he was sorely mistaken.|MordredStays]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Whatever." Mordred left.|MordredLeaves]]</div> <<elseif $treat == 5>> Mordred fixed him with seething eyes - that the fire was snuffed and ?they said, "Whatever. I'm leaving." Finally. To truly cement in the fact that they were over this, Galahad turned sharply on his heels and marched off to sit down by the river. A moment later, Callum followed. He nestled by his side, tail twisted round his wrist. The scales were cool, smooth and soothing against his skin. The flutter of wings filled his ears and blew a cool gale over him, then Callum and he were again alone. [[Next|MordredLeavesEarly]] <<elseif $treat == 6>> The corner of Mordred's mouth twitched downwards. ?They had no rebuttal to Galahad's words. Instead, ?they demanded, "Isn't it enough the way you treat me? Must you take this away from me? A patch of forest?" <<if $Galahad >= 20>> The way //he// treated ?them? Mordred was speaking as if Galahad was a bully and it gave him an ill-defined sense of unease, stirring in the pit of his stomach. No. He couldn't falter. He wasn't a bully - he wasn't trying to be one - but a shield. A shield standing in front of everything that Mordred threatened to destroy. His expression steeled. "Just move farther down the river." <<else>> He tensed - Mordred spoke as if he was a bully. But he was simply the shield standing in front of everything that Mordred threatened to destroy. He said, "Just move farther down the river." <</if>> Galahad had dug his heels in, but Mordrid did so even harder. "No, //you// move down the river." <<if $dragon_personality == "aggressive">> "Yeah, you move along!" a gravelly voice echoed, punctuated by a low, menacing growl. It was ?their dragon companion, who had been hanging behind Modred this time, watching everything quietly. <<elseif $dragon_personality == "bold">> "Exactly! Move along, quickly now," a gravelly voice echoed. It was ?their dragon companion, who had been hanging behind Modred this time, watching everything quietly. They bristled at Galahad, looking none too pleased with him. <<else>> Behind Mordred, ?their dragon friend shifted, eyeing Galahad uneasily. <</if>> <div class="choice">[[If Galahad thought Mordred would relent, he was sorely mistaken.|MordredStays]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Whatever." Mordred left.|MordredLeaves]]</div> <<elseif $treat == 7>> The corner of Mordred's mouth twitched downwards. ?They had no rebuttal to Galahad's words. "Why are you even here?" Mordred demanded instead, resorting to evasion. "Shouldn't you be with Gawain?" "It's none of your business," Galahad curtly said. <<if $gawain_friend is true>> Galahad could ask the same thing of Mordred. He didn't appreciate how close the two were growing to be. Gawain was none the wiser to the full grim picture that Mordred presented, and he doubted that knowing the prophecy would dimish any of his plucky optimism. As endearing and sweet as it was, Galahad couldn't shake the prickle of dread that it'd only end up hurting Gawain. <</if>> <<if $dragon_personality == "aggressive">> "Yeah, you move along!" a gravelly voice echoed, punctuated by a low, menacing growl. It was ?their dragon companion, who had been hanging behind Modred this time, watching everything quietly. <<elseif $dragon_personality == "bold">> "Exactly! Move along, quickly now," a gravelly voice echoed. It was ?their dragon companion, who had been hanging behind Modred this time, watching everything quietly. They bristled at Galahad, looking none too pleased with him. <<else>> Behind Mordred, ?their dragon friend shifted, eyeing Galahad uneasily. <</if>> <div class="choice">[[If Galahad thought Mordred would relent, he was sorely mistaken.|MordredStays]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Whatever." Mordred left.|MordredLeaves]]</div> <<elseif $treat == 8>> The corner of Mordred's mouth twitched downwards. ?They had no rebuttal to Galahad's words. "Why are you even here?" ?they demanded and resorted to evasion that was meant to sting. "Shouldn't you be by your ailing father's side or whatever?" His muscles grew taut and his skin prickled. "I could ask the same of you." Mordred didn't seem to appreciate ?their question thrown back. ?They set ?their jaw and gave no answer. <<if $dragon_personality == "aggressive">> Behind Mordred, ?their dragon friend let out a low, warning growl. It didn't scare him. <<elseif $dragon_personality == "bold">> "Hey!" a voice called out in the dragon language, raspy and aggravated. "It's //your// father's fault for Accolon's state." The memories sprung to the forefront of his mind in lurid clarity: the Lothian knight, bloodied and bruised on the arena floor. His stomach roiled - at the sight of it, at his father's part in it, at all it made him feel. <<else>> Behind Mordred, ?their dragon friend shifted, eyeing Galahad uneasily. <</if>> <div class="choice">[[If Galahad thought Mordred would relent, he was sorely mistaken.|MordredStays]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Whatever." Mordred left.|MordredLeaves]]</div> <<elseif $treat == 9>> "Well he better," Mordred said, with all the undue confidence in the world. "A patch of forest is the least he can do." "He claimed you, isn't that the least?" <<if $crybaby >= 3>> Mordred scoffed. "Yes, and wasn't that //so kind// of him." The words had a surprising bitter bite to them. Yet the emotion that thickened ?their voice cut even deeper. "He's so kind, in fact, he's willing to turn a blind eye on people treating me like a diseased rat. Himself included." ?Their voice broke at the end. <<else>> Mordred scoffed. "Yes, and wasn't that //so kind// of him." The words had a surprising bitter bite to them. They cut deep and sharp. "He's so kind, in fact, he's willing to turn a blind eye on people treating me like a diseased rat. Himself included." <</if>> <<if $Galahad >= 16>> Mordred's little impassionate speech rattled round his skull. Coins shaking in a tin cup, a loud, harsh din. He opened his mouth but nothing came out; it couldn't go past the sudden lump in his throat. His lips pressed together in a tight, taut line. Mordred stood before him, just a child. A child even younger than Gawain, suddenly looking so much smaller than the propechy that loomed above ?them. Head tilted as ?they intently studied Galahad back. Could ?they see it in his face, that dangerous hesitation of his? <<else>> Mordred's little impassionate speech rattled round his skull. Coins shaking in a tin cup, a loud, harsh din. He opened his mouth but nothing came out; it couldn't go past the sudden lump in his throat. His lips pressed together in a tight, taut line. He snapped his gaze away, hoping it would curb the wild eddy of his thoughts, but his mind kept spinning. <</if>> <<if $dragon_personality == "aggressive">> Behind Mordred, ?their dragon friend let out a low, warning growl. "Careful what you say." Talking as if Galahad was the bad one here. <<elseif $dragon_personality == "bold">> "Hey!" Mordred's dragon friend called from behind, raspy and aggravated. "Careful what you say." Talking as if Galahad was the bad one here. <<else>> Behind Mordred, ?their dragon friend shifted, eyeing Galahad uneasily. <</if>> <div class="choice">[[If Galahad thought Mordred would relent, he was sorely mistaken.|MordredStays]]</div> <div class="choice">[["Whatever." Mordred left.|MordredLeaves]]</div> <</if>>

Callum tilted his head in the manner that betrayed something was weighing on his mind. "We could have left," he said, his voice the plaintive rustling of autumn leaves in the wind. "Mordred was rather adamant - this place must be important to ?them and ?their friend." Galahad frowned and kicked at a rock with the heel of his boot. It skittered down the bank into the water with a small //plop//. He watched the ripples - the little flurry they created in the already rushing stream. He snapped his head away, but the eddy of disturbance within him wasn't as readily escapable. "We were here first," he said mullishly. "Well, yeah, but Mordred said they come here all the time. I'd have been nice of nice to move along." Galahad tensed. "We can't afford to let our guard down around Mordred. Come on, Callum; this wasn't just about the stretch of land." He couldn't - wouldn't - relent to Mordred, and he needed ?them to know that too. "Oh, I don't know. Now I feel bad for even suggesting this place. If I knew, I-" "No," Galahad shook his head and placed a hand on Callum's side. "This isn't your fault." He smiled faintly. "It's a very lovely spot you found." His friend sighed and rested his head upon his front legs. He watched the river, letting its warbling, the birdsong and the drone of insects fill the silence. Galahad could barely pay attention to any of it over the buzzing of his own thoughts. <<if $met_callum is true>> "Is Mordred really that awful?" Callum whispered. "I met ?them that night at the lodge, and ?they seemed nice. Gawain likes ?them." Which was quite the worrying fact. <<else>> "Is Mordred really that awful?" Callum whispered. <</if>> "The prophecy is clear." "The prophecy..." Callum sounded utterly defeated. "It's not a kind one." He couldn't deny that the prophecy was of a very tragic nature. One way or another, Mordred would fulfill it. One way or another, ?they'd grow into being the one to destroy Camelot. And it was up to him to protect it from Mordred. [[The End|End]]

Hope you enjoyed it!

Mordred shifted, making a show of planting ?their feet roundly on the ground. ?They was not moving anytime soon. "I'm not leaving. I've got all day to spare," ?they said. A challenge was issued, and Galahad responded as if to a call to action. His resolve steeled, forged in a staunchness that matched - no, could best - Mordred's. He snapped into position, taking the same firm stance. They both recognized this for what it was: not a petty squabble over a scrap of land, but a bigger, grander battle of will and dignity. <<if $Galahad >= 18>> A fight even more personal than Mordred could fathom, than Galahad wanted to admit. ?They'd made a whirlwind of his thoughts, a muddy mess of his head. It'd been so easy and clear before he met ?them. Now he struggled to regain footing - questioned the things that weren't for him to doubt - tried to turn his head away from the gloomy horizon as if that would stop the clouds from swooping upon ?them. He needed to win - over Mordred, over that faltering part of himself. <<elseif $Galahad >= 11>> A fight even more personal than Mordred could fathom, than Galahad wanted to admit. ?They'd made a whirlwind of his thoughts, a muddy mess of his head. It'd been so easy and clear before he met ?them. Now he struggled to regain footing - hesitated when he shouldn't - tried to turn his head away from the gloomy horizon as if that would stop the clouds from swooping upon ?them. He needed to win - over Mordred, over that faltering part of himself. <<else>> The past few days have made a whirlwind of his thoughts, a muddy mess of his head. He found himself hesitating and questioning when he shouldn't. He needed to squash all slivers of doubt. He needed to win. Mordred had to know that he, and Camelot itself, would always be the one to win. <</if>> Galahad was here first and he'd be the last to walk away. "I know how we can settle this," Mordred said. "A staring contest. Whoever blinks first has to leave." ?They said it in utter earnest: such a silly little solution for what seemed like a much more serious confrontation. Making this all out to be a game. It sounded like something Gawain would have suggested and Galahad would have happily indulge. His brow furrowed. "That's childish." "No," Mordred snapped back, "you refusing to leave my spot is childish." The arrow squarely hit its target. "Fine." Perhaps this wasn't the momentuous demonstration of willpower he thought he was making. Perhaps this was, after all, petty and childish and prideful, but Galahad didn't care. There was something about Mordred's vehemence that only served to stoke his own. <div class="choice">[[Mordred decided to play it fair and square.|Fair]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred decided to splash water into his eyes to secure their win.|Splash]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred decided to hold their eyes open with their fingers when they felt like blinking.|Hold]]</div>

Mordred fixed him with seething eyes - then the fire was snuffed and ?they said, "Whatever. I'm leaving." Finally. To truly cement in the fact that they were over this, Galahad turned sharply on his heels and marched off to sit down by the river. A moment later, Callum followed. He nestled by his side, tail twisted round his wrist. The scales were cool, smooth and soothing against his skin. The flutter of wings filled his ears and blew a cool gale over him, then Callum and he were again alone. [[Next|MordredLeavesEarly]]

Mordred nodded, treating this all very seriously. "Good. Starting on the count of three. 1..." Galahad closed his eyes, blinked rapidly a few times, preparing for the confrontation ahead. "2..." Galahad opened his eyes, ready. "3!" They stared. And stared. And stared. The world around them seemed to fade as his vision all came down to Mordred. It was just the two of them and the thrill of the challenge, the determination of the win. He could have almost enjoyed himself. <div class="choice">[[Mordred's eyes were starting to dry...|FairFinish][$chapt3_shyness to 1]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred was contemplating Galahad's pretty eyes. ❤|FairFinish][$chapt3_shyness to 2]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt themself pulled into the depths of Galahad's eyes.💕|FairFinish][$chapt3_shyness to 3]]</div>

Mordred nodded, treating this all very seriously. "Good. Starting on the count of three. 1..." Galahad closed his eyes, blinked rapidly a few times, preparing for the confrontation ahead. "2..." Galahad opened his eyes, ready. "3!" They stared. And stared. And stared. The world around them seemed to fade as his vision all came down to Mordred. It was just the two of them and the thrill of the challenge, the determination of the win. He could have almost enjoyed himself. <div class="choice">[[Mordred's eyes were starting to dry...|SplashFinish][$chapt3_shyness to 4]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred contemplated Galahad's pretty eyes. ❤|SplashFinish][$chapt3_shyness to 5]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt themself pulled into the depths of Galahad's eyes.💕|SplashFinish][$chapt3_shyness to 6]]</div>

Mordred nodded, treating this all very seriously. "Good. Starting on the count of three. 1..." Galahad closed his eyes, blinked rapidly a few times, preparing for the confrontation ahead. "2..." Galahad opened his eyes, ready. "3!" They stared. And stared. And stared. The world around them seemed to fade as his vision all came down to Mordred. It was just the two of them and the thrill of the challenge, the determination of the win. He could have almost enjoyed himself. <div class="choice">[[Mordred's eyes were starting to dry...|HoldFinish][$chapt3_shyness to 7]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred contemplated Galahad's pretty eyes. ❤|HoldFinish][$chapt3_shyness to 8]]</div> <div class="choice">[[Mordred felt themself pulled into the depths of Galahad's eyes.💕|HoldFinish][$chapt3_shyness to 9]]</div>

<<if $chapt3_shyness == 1>> Mordred's scrunched up ?their face, beginning to struggle yet not caving in. ?Their resolve only worked to renew his own. He ignored the stinging dryness, the air itself a thousand needles pressing in on his eyes. He had to win this - he was so close. He set his jaw, clenched his fists and even squinted his eyes to reduce the unease, to squeeze some relief to carry him through. He did anything but blink. They stared. His eyes burned as he fought against his lids and better senses. He stared through narrowed eyes, focused on the slit of Mordred's determined, screwed-up face. Then it all disappeared for the blink of an eye, a flash of comforting darkness. He opened his eyes to Mordred's smug "Ha!" Galahad rubbed at his stinging eyes, though it was defeat that stung sharper and hotter. "Fine," he snapped, "I'm leaving." And with that he marched off. Callum followed, angling a concerned look his way. Galahad couldn't meet his eye. Instead he muttered, "Let's go somewhere else," and heaved himself up his back. He left without another glance back. [[Next|ContestLost]] <<elseif $chapt3_shyness == 2>> Mordred's gaze bore into his, focused, intent, intense. ?Their resolve only worked to renew his own. He ignored the stinging dryness, the air itself a thousand needles pressing in on his eyes. He had to win this - he was so close. He set his jaw, clenched his fists and even squinted his eyes to reduce the unease, to squeeze some relief to carry him through. He did anything but blink. They stared. His eyes burned as he fought against his lids and better senses. He stared through narrowed eyes, seeing nothing else but Mordred's ?eye gaze. Then Mordred blinked. "Ha." Triumph overflowed him. Almost a good enough balm for his stinging eyes. "Fine." Mordred kept ?their face downcast. All determination that had carried ?them until now was seeped away. All that remained was tired, quiet, prickly defeat. "You win. I'll go on and leave." ?Their dragon friend gently wrapped their tail round ?their wrist as they turned away, sparing no other glance in Galahad's direction. Victory, as sweet as it may have seemed, left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. He watched as Mordred heaved ?themself up on the dragon, watched as they rose to the sky - and found Mordred looking back for but a flash of a moment. The strip of riverbank was his and Callum's for now. [[Next|ContestWon]] <<else>> Mordred's gaze bore into his, focused, intent, intense. ?They went as far as to lean forward, asserting ?their conviction. ?Their resolve only worked to renew his own. He ignored the stinging dryness, the air itself a thousand needles pressing in on his eyes. He had to win this - he was so close. He set his jaw, clenched his fists and even squinted his eyes to reduce the unease, to squeeze some relief to carry him through. He did anything but blink. They stared. His eyes burned as he fought against his lids and better senses. He stared through narrowed eyes, focused on the slit of Mordred's determined, screwed-up face. Then it all disappeared for the blink of an eye, a flash of comforting darkness. He opened his eyes to Mordred's smug "Ha!" Galahad rubbed at his stinging eyes, though it was defeat that stung sharper and hotter. "Fine," he snapped, "I'm leaving." And with that he marched off. Callum followed, angling a concerned look his way. Galahad couldn't meet his eye. Instead he muttered, "Let's go somewhere else," and heaved himself up his back. As Callum carried them up in a cool gust of wind, Galahad found his gaze drawn downward, pulled as if by cord straight to Mordred. ?They too was looking up and their eyes locked yet again, for but a flash of a moment. Then Callum swerved and ?they was out of his sight but unfortunately for Galahad, not out of his mind. [[Next|ContestLost]] <</if>>

<<if $chapt3_shyness == 4>> Galahad's resolve was flint. He ignored the stinging dryness, the air itself a thousand needles pressing in on his eyes. He had to win this - he was so close. He set his jaw, clenched his fists and even squinted his eyes to reduce the unease, to squeeze some relief to carry him through. He did anything but blink. Mordred scrunched up face suggested there wouldn't be much more staring to do. ?They was struggling but Galahad kept his eyes wide and pinned on his opponent's ?eye gaze. Mordred's arm lashed outwards in a wide circle. He knew that kind of motion - he'd seen it done and traced it himself countless times. The water slapped Galahad in the side of the face, cool and sharp. His hair was soaked, slicked to his neck, dripping into his already damp tunic. But worse of all, Mordred had the nerve to happily proclaim, "I win!" His hair clung sodden over his eyes, which at least didn't sting anymore. "You cheated." "Did we ever agree on any rules?" He shouldn't have expected anything less from Mordred. Who else would ?they take after than ?their own mother? Galahad huffed and shook his head, though it did little to relieve him of his wetness. "Fine," he relented, even though he hated it. He was also growing cold, which only made the defeat more miserable. "I'm leaving." And with that he marched off. Callum followed, angling a concerned look his way. Galahad couldn't meet his eye. Instead he muttered, "Let's go back to the castle," and heaved himself up his back. He left without another glance back. [[Next|ContestLostCheat]] <<elseif $chapt3_shyness == 5 or $chapt3_shyness == 6>> Mordred's gaze bore into his, focused, intent, intense. It only worked to renew Galahad's resolve. He ignored the stinging dryness, the air itself a thousand needles pressing in on his eyes. He had to win this - he was so close. He set his jaw, clenched his fists and even squinted his eyes to reduce the unease, to squeeze some relief to carry him through. He did anything but blink. Mordred scrunched up face suggested there wouldn't be much more staring to do. ?They was struggling but Galahad kept his eyes wide and pinned on his opponent's ?eye gaze. Mordred's arm lashed outwards in a wide circle. He knew that kind of motion - he'd seen it done and traced it himself countless times. The water slapped Galahad in the side of the face, cool and sharp. His hair was soaked, slicked to his neck, dripping into his already damp tunic. But worse of all, Mordred had the nerve to happily proclaim, "I win!" His hair clung wet over his eyes, which at least didn't sting anymore. "You cheated." ?They cheated and now ?they couldn't even face Galahad's gaze. With ?their head cast downwards, Mordred airily said, "We didn't agree on any rules now, did we?" He shouldn't have expected anything less from Mordred. Who else would ?they take after than ?their own mother? Yet he expected ?them to gloat more - for there to be a wide, smug grin plastered across ?their face and a good deal of rubbing it all in Galahad's sodden face. He almost caught himself asking ?them what the matter was. "Fine," Galahad relented. He was growing cold, which only made the defeat more miserable. "I'm leaving." And with that he marched off. Callum followed, angling a concerned look his way. Galahad couldn't meet his eye. Instead he muttered, "Let's go back to the castle," and heaved himself up his back. As Callum carried them up in a cool gust of wind, Galahad found his gaze drawn downward, pulled as if by cord straight to Mordred. ?They too was looking up and their eyes locked yet again, for but a flash of a moment. Then Callum swerved and ?they was out of his sight but unfortunately for Galahad, not out of his mind. [[Next|ContestLostCheat]] <</if>>

<<if $chapt3_shyness == 7>> Galahad's resolve was flint. He ignored the stinging dryness, the air itself a thousand needles pressing in on his eyes. He had to win this - he was so close. He set his jaw, clenched his fists and even squinted his eyes to reduce the unease, to squeeze some relief to carry him through. He did anything but blink. Mordred scrunched up face suggested there wouldn't be much more staring to do. ?They was struggling but Galahad kept his eyes wide and pinned on his opponent's ?eye gaze. Mordred instead decided to enlist a little bit of help from ?their hands. With index and thumb, ?they pushed and stretched to force ?their eyes open. Galahad frowned, fighting hard not to blink. "That's cheating." "Says who? We didn't agree on any rules." He shouldn't have expected anything less from Mordred. Who else would ?they take after than ?their own mother? Though...there was no maliciousness to ?their tone. Just gleeful mischievousness. This was, after all, just a game. A game Galahad was losing anyway. So he finally blinked. And Mordred had the nerve to happily proclaim, "Ha! I win." "I let you," he tersely said. "Since you're not playing fair anyway." Mordred's grin was wide and obnoxious and there to stay. "Doesn't change the fact I've won." "Fine. I'm leaving." And with that Galahad marched off. Callum followed, angling a concerned look his way. Galahad couldn't meet his eye. Instead he muttered, "Let's go somewhere else," and heaved himself up his back. <<elseif $chapt3_shyness == 8>> Mordred's gaze bore into his, focused, intent, intense. Galahad's resolve was flint. He ignored the stinging dryness, the air itself a thousant needles pressing in on his eyes. He had to win this - he was so close. He set his jaw, clenched his fists and even squinted his eyes to reduce the unease, to squeeze some relief to carry him through. He did anything but blink. Mordred scrunched up face suggested there wouldn't be much more staring to do. ?They was struggling but Galahad kept his eyes wide and pinned on his opponent's ?eye gaze. Mordred instead decided to enlist a little bit of help from ?their hands. With index and thumb, ?they pushed and stretched to force ?their eyes open. Galahad frowned, fighting hard not to blink. "That's cheating." "Says who? We didn't agree on any rules." He shouldn't have expected anything less from Mordred. Who else would ?they take after than ?their own mother? Though...there was no maliciousness to ?their tone. Just gleeful mischievousness. This was, after all, just a game. A game Galahad was losing anyway. So he finally blinked. And Mordred had the nerve to happily proclaim, "Ha! I win." "I let you," he tersely said. "Since you're not playing fair anyway." Mordred's grin was wide and obnoxious and there to stay. "Doesn't change the fact I've won." ?They spoke confidently, but ?their face was cast downwards, avoiding Galahad's eye. He'd expected ?them to gloat more, to thoroughly rub it all in his face. He almost caught himself asking ?them what the matter was. "Fine," Galahad relented. "I'm leaving." And with that he marched off. Callum followed, angling a concerned look his way. Galahad couldn't meet his eye. Instead he muttered, "Let's go somewhere else," and heaved himself up his back. As Callum carried them up in a cool gust of wind, Galahad found his gaze drawn downward, pulled as if by cord straight to Mordred. ?They too was looking up and their eyes locked yet again, for but a flash of a moment. Then Callum swerved and ?they was out of his sight but unfortunately for Galahad, not out of his mind. <<elseif $chapt3_shyness == 9>> Mordred's gaze bore into his, focused, intent, intense. Galahad's resolve was flint. He ignored the stinging dryness, the air itself a thousand needles pressing in on his eyes. He had to win this - he was so close. He set his jaw, clenched his fists and even squinted his eyes to reduce the unease, to squeeze some relief to carry him through. He did anything but blink. Mordred scrunched up face suggested there wouldn't be much more staring to do, soon. ?They was struggling but Galahad kept his eyes wide and pinned on his opponent's ?eye gaze. Mordred instead decided to enlist a little bit of help from ?their hands. With index and thumb, ?they pushed and stretched to force ?their eyes open. Galahad frowned, fighting hard not to blink. "That's cheating." "Says who? We didn't agree on any rules." He shouldn't have expected anything less from Mordred. Who else would ?they take after than ?their own mother? Though...there was no maliciousness to ?their tone. Just gleeful mischievousness. This was, after all, just a game. A game Galahad was losing anyway. So he finally blinked. And Mordred had the nerve to happily proclaim, "Ha! I win." "I let you," he tersely said. "Since you're not playing fair anyway." Mordred's grin was wide and obnoxious and there to stay. "Doesn't change the fact I've won." "Fine. I'm leaving." And with that Galahad marched off. Callum followed, angling a concerned look his way. Galahad couldn't meet his eye. Instead he muttered, "Let's go somewhere else," and heaved himself up his back. As Callum carried them up in a cool gust of wind, Galahad found his gaze drawn downward, pulled as if by cord straight to Mordred. ?They too was looking up and their eyes locked yet again, for but a flash of a moment. <</if>> [[ContestLostHold]]

They flew, scouting till Callum decided upon a strip of riverbank far enough from Mordred - unless ?they planned on following to claim this one ?their own as well. They settled by the water, nestled against each other, and sat in silence for a while. "I couldn't quite tell if you were playing or fighting back there," Callum said. Galahad looked up at him, brow creased. "What do you mean?" "I don't know," Callum tilted his head from side to side, slow and pensive. "Staring contest? It just-well, it sounds like playing a game." "It wasn't a game - we were settling the matter of who had the right to stay." "Of course." Callum didn't sound convinced. Galahad frowned and kicked at a rock with the heel of his boot. It skittered down the bank into the water with a small //plop//. He watched the ripples - the little flurry they created in the already rushing stream. He snapped his head away, but the eddy of disturbance within him wasn't as readily escapable. He tried not to dwell on it. Instead, he said: "Think of it like a duel, in lieu of blades." That gave his friend pause. "Would you have dueled if you had blades?" Had Mordred been his age, he would have entertained the idea; as it was, going against someone younger than Gawain felt almost like cheating. An unbalanced, unfair fight. "Can we not talk about Mordred?" Galahad asked, pushing off yet another rock. The ripples in the water spread bigger, farther. He felt Callum's eyes on his face, but he kept it mullishly turned towards the river. Then the dragon sighed and rested his head upon his front legs. He watched the river, letting its warbling, the birdsong and the drone of insects fill the silence. Galahad could barely pay attention to any of it over the buzzing of his own thoughts. <<if $met_callum is true>> "Is Mordred really that awful?" Callum whispered. "I met ?them that night at the lodge, and ?they seemed nice. Gawain likes ?them." Which was quite the worrying fact. <<else>> "Is Mordred really that awful?" Callum whispered. <</if>> "The prophecy is clear." "The prophecy..." Callum sounded utterly defeated. "It's not a kind one." He couldn't deny that the prophecy was of a very tragic nature. One way or another, Mordred would fulfill it. One way or another, ?they'd grow into being the one to destroy Camelot. And it was up to him to protect it from Mordred. [[The End|End]]

Galahad settled next to Callum by the river, nestled against each other. For a while, they sat in silence. Callum tilted his head in the manner that betrayed something was weighing on his mind. "We could have left," he said, his voice the plaintive rustling of autumn leaves in the wind. "Mordred was rather adamant - this place must be important to ?them and ?their friend." Galahad frowned and kicked at a rock with the heel of his boot. It skittered down the bank into the water with a small //plop//. He watched the ripples - the little flurry they created in the already rushing stream. He snapped his head away, but the eddy of disturbance within him wasn't as readily escapable. "We were here first," he said mullishly, "and we won ?their staring contest." "Well, yeah, but Mordred said they come here all the time. I'd have been nice of nice to move along." Galahad tensed. "We can't afford to let our guard down around Mordred. Come on, Callum; this wasn't just about the stretch of land." He couldn't - wouldn't - relent to Mordred, and he needed ?them to know that too. Besides, he won fair and square to the contest Mordred ?themself suggested. If anything, he had to appreciate how ?they'd kept true to ?their word and left. "Oh, I don't know. Now I feel bad for even suggesting this place. If I knew, I-" "No," Galahad shook his head and placed a hand on Callum's side. "This isn't your fault." He smiled faintly. "It's a very lovely spot you found." His friend sighed and rested his head upon his front legs. He watched the river, letting its warbling, the birdsong and drone of insects fill the silence. Galahad could barely pay attention to any of it over the buzzing of his own thoughts. <<if $met_callum is true>> "Is Mordred really that awful?" Callum whispered. "I met ?them that night at the lodge, and ?they seemed nice. Gawain likes ?them." Which was quite the worrying fact. <<else>> "Is Mordred really that awful?" Callum whispered. <</if>> "The prophecy is clear." "The prophecy..." Callum sounded utterly defeated. "It's not a kind one." He couldn't deny that the prophecy was of a very tragic nature. One way or another, Mordred would fulfill it. One way or another, ?they'd grow into being the one to destroy Camelot. And it was up to him to protect it from Mordred. [[The End|End]]

Galahad had initially intentioned to go straight back to the castle and change, but up in the air, away from Mordred, the dampness seemed far less miserable a state. He directioned Callum to scout out a new place for them to land, and they flew until the dragon decided upon a strip of riverbank far enough from Mordred - unless ?they planned on following to claim this one ?their own as well. They settled by the water, where Galahad attempted the magic his father had taught him, to remove water out of fabric. Finding himself almost dry and satisfied, they nestled against each other and sat in silence for a while. "I couldn't quite tell if you were playing or fighting back there," Callum said. Galahad looked up at him, brow creased. "What do you mean?" "I don't know," Callum tilted his head from side to side, slow and pensive. "Staring contest? It just-well, it sounds like playing a game." "It wasn't a game - we were settling the matter of who had the right to stay." "Of course." Callum didn't sound convinced. Galahad frowned and kicked at a rock with the heel of his boot. It skittered down the bank into the water with a small //plop//. He watched the ripples - the little flurry they created in the already rushing stream. He snapped his head away, but the eddy of disturbance within him wasn't as readily escapable. He tried not to dwell on it. Instead, he said: "Think of it like a duel, in lieu of blades." That gave his friend pause. "Would you have dueled if you had blades?" Had Mordred been his age, he would have entertained the idea; as it was, going against someone younger than Gawain felt almost like cheating. An unbalanced, unfair fight. Not that Mordred seemed to mind an unfair fight, at least as long as the odds were stacked in ?their favor. "Can we not talk about Mordred?" Galahad asked, pushing off yet another rock. The ripples in the water spread bigger, farther. He felt Callum's eyes on his face, but he kept it mullishly turned towards the river. Then the dragon sighed and rested his head upon his front legs. He watched the river, letting its warbling, the birdsong and drone of insects fill the silence. Galahad could barely pay attention to any of it over the buzzing of his own thoughts. <<if $met_callum is true>> "Is Mordred really that awful?" Callum whispered. "I met ?them that night at the lodge, and ?they seemed nice. Gawain likes ?them." Which was quite the worrying fact. <<else>> "Is Mordred really that awful?" Callum whispered. <</if>> "The prophecy is clear." "The prophecy..." Callum sounded utterly defeated. "It's not a kind one." He couldn't deny that the prophecy was of a very tragic nature. One way or another, Mordred would fulfill it. One way or another, ?they'd grow into being the one to destroy Camelot. And it was up to him to protect it from Mordred. [[The End|End]]

They flew, scouting till Callum decided upon a strip of riverbank far enough from Mordred - unless ?they planned on following to claim this one ?their own as well. They settled by the water, nestled against each other and sat in silence for a while. "I couldn't quite tell if you were playing or fighting back there," Callum said. Galahad looked up at him, brow creased. "What do you mean?" "I don't know," Callum tilted his head from side to side, slow and pensive. "Staring contest? It just-well, it sounds like playing a game." "It wasn't a game - we were settling the matter of who had the right to stay." "Of course." Callum didn't sound convinced. Galahad frowned and kicked at a rock with the heel of his boot. It skittered down the bank into the water with a small //plop//. He watched the ripples - the little flurry they created in the already rushing stream. He snapped his head away, but the eddy of disturbance within him wasn't as readily escapable. He tried not to dwell on it. Instead, he said: "Think of it like a duel, in lieu of blades." That gave his friend pause. "Would you have dueled if you had blades?" Had Mordred been his age, he would have entertained the idea; as it was, going against someone younger than Gawain felt almost like cheating. An unbalanced, unfair fight. Not that Mordred seemed to mind an unfair fight, at least as long as the odds were stacked in ?their favor. "Can we not talk about Mordred?" Galahad asked, pushing off yet another rock. The ripples in the water spread bigger, farther. He felt Callum's eyes on his face, but he kept it mullishly turned towards the river. Then the dragon sighed and rested his head upon his front legs. He watched the river, letting its warbling, the birdsong and drone of insects fill the silence. Galahad could barely pay attention to any of it over the buzzing of his own thoughts. <<if $met_callum is true>> "Is Mordred really that awful?" Callum whispered. "I met ?them that night at the lodge, and ?they seemed nice. Gawain likes ?them." Which was quite the worrying fact. <<else>> "Is Mordred really that awful?" Callum whispered. <</if>> "The prophecy is clear." "The prophecy..." Callum sounded utterly defeated. "It's not a kind one." He couldn't deny that the prophecy was of a very tragic nature. One way or another, Mordred would fulfill it. One way or another, ?they'd grow into being the one to destroy Camelot. And it was up to him to protect it from Mordred. [[The End|End]]