Merthur - The King's Champion

Chapter 3 - Like You and I

Morgana wanders about in the lower town of Cambria, browsing the merchant stores with Gwen and Lancelot by her side as she tries to take her mind off of her problems. Morgana had wanted nothing more than to escape the walls of the castle, feeling suffocated inside by the nerve wracking presence of the foreign king seemingly around every corner. They've only been in the kingdom for a night and yet she already feels as though the man knows all her secrets, knows exactly what to say to make the words disappear from her throat. She couldn't stand it, she couldn't stand being in that castle especially when Arthur has run off to who knows where right after breakfast. 

With a sigh Morgana picks up a fine cloth from one of the stands, fingering the fabric in curiosity as she stares at her reflection in the mirror, wondering how it would look as a dress. There's going to be a feast soon when the Tournament starts in a weeks time. Perhaps she can have a dress tailored with the cloth? She turns, about to ask Gwen for her opinion only to spot her at a flower stand next to Lancelot, the two smiling and giggling to each other as the latter points to a bouquet. Seeing the two Morgana can't stop the small quirk of her lips. Though she is a little sad that she's losing her best friends attention at least Gwen is happy and that's all she can ever really ask for.

Morgana looks away from the pair, deciding to give them some privacy as she skirts to another nearby stand. She flips through a few of the cloths before she feels an arm being slung around her shoulder, tugging her away from the stand. She frowns, turning around to meet the face of a man with a devilish smirk across his lips. 

"Hello there," he says, sending her a wink that sends a shiver down her spine. 

"Um... good day to you," she says nervously, carefully removing herself from his grasp. Now that she has a proper look at him she finds the man dressed in armour with a green cape around his shoulders. Even without the armour she can tell by his attitude that this man is a knight, clearly not the chivalrous kind, but rather the kind that felt they had a right to everything because they're one of the king's men. She had known these types of knights before, Arthur had been one after all. 

The intruding knight tries to snuggle up closer to her again, as though he found her avoidance of him to be a challenge rather than rejection. "I've never seen you around before. How about I take you around the town?" the man says with a smile. 

Morgana flashes her own smile back, trying to be as kind as she can. "No, it's quite alright. I have a guide."

The knight frowns, glancing around as he searches for the aforementioned guide. "Well, he must not be a very good guide to leave such a lovely lady alone on her own."

Morgana tries to shove him gently away, despite knowing that she could probably beat him easily, however she's in a foreign kingdom and it's best for her to refrain from making a scene. "I'm sorry, but I have to decline. I wish you luck on your endeavours." As she turns to go the man grasps her wrist, clearly not liking 'no' for an answer. 

"I am a knight and you shall listen to what I say," he demands, a sneer on his face now as the mask of false honour falls away. 

Morgana just returns the glare, prepared to defend herself when suddenly another hand comes out from the bustling crowd, grabbing the hand of the knight by his wrist. A young man with curly brown hair and a tattoo of a raven on his collar steps out from the crowd, baring down on the knight with a look that promises much more than a simple broken wrist. The newcomer sends Morgana a smile and a slight bow, "Hello, m'lady. The names Mordred. Is this man bothering you?" He says as he squeezes hard on the knight's wrist, not relenting until the man lets go and turns to glare at the boy. 

"I hope you have a good excuse for your actions," the man says, glaring, "Now tell me what you're doing." 

The brunette tilts his head to the side, as though a little amazed at the question. Whether that amazement comes from the simple stupidity of the question or something else Morgana will never know. "I would think a knight would know best of all that you should never treat a lady in such a crude manner," Mordred replies, looking to Morgana with a smile again, "even if that knight is one of the lowest in the flock."