Hello, Brother {Mordred}

[Leela Dy Cazaril]

Leela had only been in Tintagel for a few days, and was loving it. She remembered all the stories, but seeing all of this up close, the mobile phones, the fashion, the buildings. It was like a dream! Even using her new notebook was incredibly exciting to her, the first page Mordred’s address -- a neat scrawl in the top corner of her first lecture notes. Perhaps she was too much of a goody goody, but it was better than private tutoring she had gotten back in Camelot, now she could learn with others, and other things than just what a girl was expected to do. There was no limit on gender here as there was back in the castle. That was one thing her and her mother certainly agreed upon. Tintagel was a world of opportunity and she was excited to dive in to find her place.

She bristled a bit as she searched for the right address. Oh, she did hope Mordred would be pleased to see her! Home had been lonely without everyone but the adults but now it was her turn to be part of this vast neighbourhood of other-worlds, she was yearning to be a part of it.

Arriving at the right door, she gave a quick knock, pulling down a little at the shirt and jeans ensemble that the shop-owner had helped her pick out when she had arrived, hair spilling over her shoulders, looking every bit like their mother, except shyer.

“Hello?”

[Mordred Le Fey]

It had been a long and heavy night, and waking up to find himself in Tristian's bed, spooning him no less, had been a very weird end to events. Mordred's jaw ached, and when he'd checked himself in the mirror he'd rolled his eyes at the purple bruise spread across his jaw. It wasn't as masculine as a black eye, and Mordred kind of wished that Tristian had just punched him in the eye or the nose, at least it wouldn't have hurt every time he ate or spoke.

And then there was his hand. Luckily he hadn't broken anything when he punched the wall, but his knuckles were swollen and bruised, and combined with the cuts and gashes from the bottle he'd smashed over the thug's head, his hand was looking a bit of a mess. He'd had it bandaged, so the worst of it was covered, but he looked a complete mess.

Of course there was the emotional turmoil he was currently going through as well, and combined with the hangover this meant he looked far from his usual perfectly groomed self. On getting home from Tristian's, he jumped straight in the shower, and so when he heard the knock at the door he was in the middle of getting dressed - shirt unbuttoned and hair still wet, he headed to the door cautiously. He didn't know who knew, who Meredith might have spoken to, and although his biggest concern, Tristian, had been sorted last night, the Camelot family was extensive and more than a little crazy.

Reaching the door, he took a deep breath, hand on the hilt of his sword which rested in the umbrella stand by the door - just in case. He pulled open the door and, after a moment of silent surprise, a huge grin broke out on his face.

"Leela!" He pulled her into a bear hug in the doorway. "What are you doing here?"

[Leela Dy Cazaril]

The bear hug was more than welcome, and was a distraction at first for the state of her brother, her taller, darker, learner brother who she tottered around behind when her parents finally let her out of their sight. Her being so ill as a baby meant they were less lenient to let her leave their sight as a kid, so those days spent playing with her big brother were precious. Perhaps the story of her father growing up with older brothers also made her jealous too. Jealous that she couldn’t have had that with the Camelot children.

Still what was important was the here and now, and as she pulled away after a tight squeeze she saw the state of him.

“I--- I just arrived, today in fact. Mum and Dad finally said I could come, after quite a few hours of consideration…” she gave a vaillant smile, though she wasn’t feeling particularly brave when the toughest boy she knew, her older brother looked like he’d been fighting.

“So…this is where you’ve been writing those letters home from then? How’s the Academy? Wh--What’s happened to your face? You --- well I thought the whole point of coming here was to not get into fights?”

She gives him an awkward worried smile, his eyes slightly squint in hurt as she looks at the mark on his face.

“Who did that then?”

[Mordred Le Fey]

Mordred adored his little sister. He hadn't always, there had been the expected resentment of her as a baby, taking their parents' attention from him, especially when she was born so small and sick. But it hadn't been long before their mother had convinced him of how important his job as a big brother was, and he'd seen how Tristian's siblings looked up to him and he wanted that. And so he had become her number one protector - no one said anything bad about Leela, or didn't anything to Leela, without having to deal with her big brother.

Ironic, really, given how he treated other girls. If anyone did that to Leela he would murder them in the most savage way he could think of.

He stood aside and ushered her in as she spoke, closing the door behind her and indicating the sofa for her to sit down. He couldn't keep the grin from his face - he almost forgot about all the crap he was dealing with in the joy of having his baby sister here in front of him.

And then she brought up his appearance.

He ran a hand through his hair awkwardly, not sure what to tell her. Did he tell her the truth? She liked Meredith - and he wasn't sure how far family loyalty would go in this situation. Plus, she was young, he'd always protected her from stuff like this...

But she was here now, and it seemed the entire student population knew and hated him, so he'd rather she heard it from him.

"Erm, yeah... this... had a bit of a heavy night last night." He muttered, looking at his bandaged hand. "And this..." He rubbed his jaw gently. "Well... I had a bit of a run-in with, erm... Tristian." He gave his sister an awkward grin. "Turns out Tris can actually hit, who knew?"

[Leela Dy Cazaril]

The young woman stepped indoors at her brother’s allowance, giving the place a really intense look. It was  just so different from the castle she had grown up in. She had heard of wallpaper but it’s different to see it first hand. She was glad she had read up on the modern world before arriving.

She was really so glad to see him. Being a sickly child had been a burden her whole life, her paler than pale complexion, the attitude of the adults. Despite this Mordred was one of the few children that accepted that and still played with her. There were others of course who she was close too, but Mordred was her brother, and he had always said he’d take care of her. Even when he was being mean to another kid, he was never mean to her and she found some sort of hope in that.

He could be absent perhaps because he was preoccupied with the older children like Tristian, but never mean.

And speaking of Tristian.

Her eyes flashed in surprise as she came forward to look at his hand and face with a little more intensity.

“Why!? Why did he punch you? I leave you alone for five minutes and look what happens eh?”

Well, it had actually been a few short weeks, but who’d been counting. Not Leela.

[Mordred Le Fey]

He laughed softly, letting her check his injuries over for a moment before stepping away and heading to the kitchen where he found some wine and poured two glasses. Coming back to the living room, he handed one to her.

"Here, you're probably going to want this - and you're old enough now I guess. Sit down." He instructed her, as he took a couple of large gulps of his own wine. It was definitely too early, but it was all that was getting him through at the moment - and if she didn't want to drink it then he'd just have hers too.

"So, I might have done something kind of stupid." He started, before pausing and wrinkling up his face. "Ok, really stupid. I, erm... I did... something... with someone close to Tris." He took another drink. He really didn't know how to tell her this - it wasn't like Leela didn't know what he was like, everyone know, but this was different, and he didn't want her to hate him, like everyone else seemed to. He coughed slightly. "And then I treated them like crap and threw them out." He looked at Leela with his face screwed up, scared of what she would say.

[Leela Dy Cazaril]

"Wine huh? Isn't it a bit early for wine?"

Leela was skeptical, but she had enjoyed wine with her parents and family gatherings, but it wasn't her go-to-drink. Stil,l she did as she was told, finding a sit and holding her class.

Her brother was uneasy, and obviously whatever had happened that caused Tris to punch him had not sat well with him at all, Leela's frown, a look of her father thrust upon her mother's features was permanent as she took a sip of wine.

"Did something with someone close to Tris," she repeated quietly, then the penny dropped. Her mouth opened slightly, then she drank the rest of her wine in one gulp. Her mouth a thin line before it opened in a barrage of words and worries.

"Oh Mordred, why? Why did you treat her like crap? Meredith is lovely! No wonder Tris is mad with you. What have the others said?"

And then she caught herself, collected all her thoughts instead of babbling. Her glass back on the table. Her brother was an idiot, but he was still her brother, and she knew deep down --- very deep down there was a reason why he had been so terrible to one of their friends. She resolved to find out, or at least be there for him if he needed her.

"...Are you alright, Mordred?"

[Mordred Le Fey]

He couldn't help but wince as she berated him. Of all the people in the world who could be angry or disappointed with him, the one person he couldn't handle that from was his little sister. Sinking into an armchair, he covered his face with one hand, groaning.

"I know, I know, I'm bastard scum." He muttered from behind his hand, hating himself every second. He'd been over it so many times; with Tristian, with Aiden, with that girl from the diner - and so many times in his own head he just had to close his eyes and he saw her hurt expression, her pain, her shock - it was like it was tattooed on the inside of his eyelids. He threw himself back in the chair, downing the wine before pulling out a packet of cigarettes and lighting one - his vape lying forgotten by his bed, as it just hadn't been cutting it through this stress.

Taking a long drag and blowing out the smoke over his head, he shrugged at Leela's question. "I don't know who knows other than Tris." He rubbed his forehead, thinking. "I mean, I'm pretty sure Gwyn doesn't know or she'd have come over to beat the crap out of me - or try, anyway - and the others," he shrugged again, "other than Tristian I can't see any of them coming to confront me about it. If they know, they're staying away from me."

He reached over to where he had placed the wine bottle on the coffee table and poured himself another glass before answering Leela's second question. How did he answer that question? The honest answer was obviously no, evidenced by the obscene amount of empty liquor bottles piled up in his kitchen and hidden under his bed, the bruising of his face and hand, the bags under his eyes and the shake in his hand from the fact he hadn't popped any pills that day.

But how could he tell his little sister any of that?

He shot her his most charming, devil-may-care smile before answering. "You know me, little sis, nothing bothers me. I'm perfect."

[Leela Dy Cazaril]

"I didn't call you bastard scum," she said, with an obvious wince.

She hadn’t wanted to make him lie to her, she had wanted him to be honest, but perhaps she should have considered that before she levelled questions at him, her expression slipped further. She hated seeing her brother that way, and even more so when he put on that charming mask of his.

“Oh you’re such a liar, Mord.”

She didn’t take another glass, instead she found the seat by his arm chair, and put a hand on his knee. She used a hand to push the smoke out of her face. She didn’t like it when he smoked around her but she could forgive him easily.

“Look, you know what you did was wrong, obviously. Not point beating around the bush? Why don’t you try to apologise to her? Meredith's known you a long time right? I thought her friendship was really important to you?”

[Mordred Le Fey]

"You didn't need to." He muttered. He knew that was what he was - worse, in fact.

He looked at her in surprise when she called him a liar. The surprise stayed on his face as he watched her move from the sofa to sit beside him, before he finally found his voice.

"You're calling me a liar?" He asked incredulously, almost wanting to laugh at her indignation towards him. The laugh died quickly when she began to speak again though.

He sighed, taking another long drag on the cigarette, and making the effort to blow the smoke away from Leela. "When did you get so bloody smart?" He muttered with an indulgent smile at her.

"I'm not sure an apology is going to cut it. You remember that time she stuck a fork in that visiting prince's leg? This was worse." He frowned as her words that night resonated in his head again. "She said she never wanted to speak to me again, and I'm pretty sure she meant it." Mordred's hands shook slightly as he raised the cigarette to his mouth once more.

[Leela Dy Cazaril]

Leela couldn’t help but smile when he smiled at her. For the most part she hoped she was very good at getting a smile out of her brother. Even when he was miserable.

“Well someone had to listen to dad, and it wasn’t going to be you.”

She straightened, remembering the prince leg incident. That hadn’t been good, still, she frowned in thought. She remembered when she had ever been angry at Mordred -- when he was too preoccupied with his friends.

It didn’t mean she hated him when she sulked at him, it just meant in that moment..


“People say a lot of things when they’re angry…and usually don’t mean it because they’re angry.”

She pursed her lips together in thought. “I --- I could talk to her if you want? I could try?”

It was an offer, she would, even if Meredith - her friend - wouldn’t like the fact she had taken her brother’s side. That’s what families were for right?

“I mean. You need someone fighting in your corner, and I know if I did something wrong you’d fight for me too, right?”

[Mordred Le Fey]

With a snort of laughter, Mordred nodded. "Well that's true enough." He grinned at her comment about their dad.

He knew she was right, but this felt different. There had been something in the way Meredith had shouted at him, the venom in her voice - which he knew he deserved - was nothing like he'd heard from Meredith before, and it had truly scared him.

"But when the person who has made them angry has done something completely unforgivable, then the words said in anger have more meaning behind them." He said with a shrug. "I wouldn't blame her if she didn't talk to me again. It'd kill me, but I wouldn't blame her."

He shot a sideways glance at his sister, realising he might have said too much. He wasn't ready to admit his real feelings, or the depth of his feelings, not even to Leela. Not without a lot more alcohol in his system.

He took another drink, and almost choked as he shook his head quickly and profusely. "No way, do not go and talk to Meredith about this!" He said once he was able to swallow the wine, and put a hand on her shoulder. "I don't want you getting in the middle of this, it's my disaster to clean up, not yours. Of course I'd fight for you - I'd kill anyone who did anything to upset you, you know that, but, you think I can't fight my own battles?" He punched her lightly in the shoulder, smirking at her. "You think I need my baby sister running in to protect me? I'm Mordred Le Fey, remember?" He winked at her.

[Leela Dy Cazaril]

Mordred's reaction calmed her a little. The fact was, if he cared enough -- like he was showing, then surely he would find the strength to apologise eventually. She just gave a smile, indicating that she was listening, but not that she had the answer. Lopsided and gentle.

And it remained like that until he barked at her about her suggestion. Typical Mordred.

She gave him a polite smile, and put her hand on top of his.

"That's a bit dramatic, brother. You're right though. I was just offering my support. I hate to think anyone I care about unhappy."

Another smile. Baby sister she may be, but she was no longer a child, and she sat straighter.

"Well, maybe not protecting you, Mordred, but you do like to run your mouth off, and sometimes you need a translator." She beamed at him then. "Think you have time to show me around Tintagel or would you prefer to do it when you don't look like you're about to collapse?"

[Mordred Le Fey]

“Run my mouth off?” Mordred looked at her in mock offence. “Haven’t a clue what you’re talking about. I’m the picture of subtlety and poise.” He winked at her.

He sank back in his chair at her request and groaned slightly. “You know I always have time for you Leela, but right now I think I might pass out if I stand up.” He rubbed his eyes. “I can give you the grand tour of my living room and kitchen though. Like,” he pointed to a cupboard in the kitchen. “That cupboard there is where we keep the mugs,” he moved his hand slightly and pointed to another cupboard, “and that one is where we keep the coffee.”

He grinned at Leela, hoping she’d take the hint.

[Leela Dy Cazaril]

She's already looking for the kettle, she hadn't used one before, but she had heard stories and was glad to see all she had to do is fill it with water. Once that was done she pressed the switch and grinned brightly as she watched it start to boil before looking for coffee whilst she spoke.

"Yeah, you like to run your mouth off, Mord. A lot. Remember that time you spun a huge story about Tristian and you were doing so well but you got overeager and soon enough your story just fell apart and Dad and Arthur were not impressed."

She had been very young, but she remembered it vividly. Mordred never seemed happy when he was in his element, facing the world and telling it how it was going to go his way.

"Do I even dare ask if you're going to classes? You know what, never mind. Do you have --- a fridge here? That's right isn't it?"