dahliamordredâ:
The gentle touch, and the certainty of her words cut through some of the worry.Â
Heâs seen both sides of their world, life at court, and life alone with only the wild, and neither have felt wholly natural to him. But the freedom that he when he was on his own, what she says now, these other fae serving only themselves and the land, thatâs something that he has never had trouble understanding or believing. He fears what would happen to his soul if he were forced to live in solitude again, cannot imagine being without those he cares about, but there are times when perhaps he misses that certainty of answering only to himself. Beyond the courts, each and every fae is royal in their own right, with only nature above them.
Mordred swallows deeply, then nods, letting the words bolster his courage, for once in the time since he had first found his court, letting some of that perfectly crafted image slip away. He feels more certain with her words, and he knows that if there is one thing he is perfectly adept at, it is mimicking what someone says is expected of him. With her example, surely heâll be able to follow. Trying to brush away the worry, knowing that entering with doubts, thoughts of what he fears to lose on his mind is only asking for trouble, he lets her lead him forward into the workshop.
Itâs a place unlike any he can remember seeing, never having sought out handmade weapons before, and thereâs no hiding the awe on his face as he looks around at what the armorer has made with only his hands. Fiadh takes the lead greeting the other first, sweet words coming so easily. When she introduces him, he offers a smile, an inclining of his head.
âIt is a great honor to meet you, Iâve heard legends of your work since long before I came to court,â he offers carefully, trying his best to keep his head held high. âYes, weâve come on behalf of both courts, because of the great dangers we all face, an unseen enemy.â
She feels a flush of pride at Mordredâs careful confidence. The show of it is good, it is enough and will serve him well. His head held high, he cuts a striking figure in the light, looks far grander than even he knows. Her smile grows at it, and at his words. So she watches carefully as the armorer rakes his eyes over Mordred, quick and calculating. Something flashes in his eyes when he looks back at Fiadh, something curious and knowing and amused. Â
âWe come to offer payment for your work.â She says, more straightforward now, yet her voice is still as sweet and gentle as it was before. They always did react well to someone innocent and beguiling. âOn behalf of the leaders of the court. We have their permission to offer anything you see fit to request ââ in exchange for the tools to help in our cause.
The man nods, still gruff and wary. âWe have what you seek.â He says, âIt will all be delivered soon to court.â His eyes are sharp, and it makes her feel unsteady on her feet. He is calculating something, he lets it sit for a long moment before he opens his mouth again. âBradĂĄn wants a child. The memory of one, from you, dear Fiadh. That and the Seelie Princeâs first love.âÂ
âDone.â She agrees, only slightly quicker than she intended to. âHe shall have them. What do you require?âÂ
He smiles, something almost savage, and looks at Mordred once again. She feels a spark of curiosity, of worry, deep down and somewhere alien. âThe boy will pay when he becomes himself,â It sounds like a joke, sounds like he thinks itâs very funny. Fiadh doesnât quite understand, but she nods regardless. âIn the meantime, he can deliver a very important blade to the Unseelie Court.â He wraps the hilt of a sword in cloth and hands it, delicately, to Mordred. âA blade of great power. BradĂĄn has enchanted it so that only the truest ruler of the court can use it, so have care, it will burn any other. Now you may go. We have work to complete.âÂ
She watches Mordred carefully, keen eyes examining the blade. She nods, delicate and slow, and quietly thanks him for his time before she puts a hand on Mordredâs shoulder again to lead him away, back the way they came.Â

















