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When had she started to cry? She wiped her hands across her cheeks and sniffled.
“Do not waste your tears on me.”
The world around her changed with the flick of a light switch again. No longer on the battlefield, she was in the strange, nightmarish version of Mordred’s study. She turned to face the sound of the voice, and found him standing in front of his fireplace, staring into the flames. He was once more as she knew him—the elemental, not the mortal. He wasn’t in his full armor, but, like usual, his arms were still covered in the iron that was a part of him.
He looked down at his clawed, gauntleted hands. “Such is the way of soldiering. You fight, you kill, and you go on to do it again.” He sighed. “Yet you are surprised that I seek to prevent war.”
“No, I just don’t agree with the way you want to go about doing it.” When Gwen finished drying her tears, she walked up to him. She knew he wasn’t really there—this was all just a dream—but maybe she could talk things through with the fictional version of Mordred, if she couldn’t ask for guidance from the real one.
The subconscious was weird.
“It was my last resort. And it will continue to be so. But I will not see this world destroyed, Gwendolyn.” He turned to her; his green eyes were once more molten rust. “You are healed.”
“Zoe.” She shrugged. “Apparently, she can heal people.”
“Ah.” He winced at the Gossamer Lady’s name. “How is she?”
“I mean, she’s a goddamn fairy, so that’s cool.” She sighed. “She haswings.That isn’t fair. I want wings.”
He chuckled. “Then have them.”
“What?”
“You are an elemental and a shapeshifter, firefly.” He held up his hand as proof. “We shape our bodies as we wish. Do you think she was born with those wings?”
“I don’t know, I mean, Galahad is from, like, Tir…somewhere. He’s not human.” She shrugged.
“Tir n’Aill. And yes, I suppose I see your point. No, she was from Earth, same as you.” He held out his hand to her. “I am glad she healed you.”
She gave him her hand, always amazed at how glaring the difference was between her small, normal fingers, and his metal gauntlet with its jagged, rusted talons. But he was no less gentle with her as he grasped her hand and pulled her closer to him. “Are you safe?”
“Yeah. I’m at the wizard’s house, and—”
“Oh, no.” Mordred sighed and shut his eyes. “Nothim.”
“Is he actually Merlin?”
“If so, he is not the one I knew. But perhaps he has changed his face. I cannot stomach speaking to him long enough to discern the truth.” He traced his other hand over her hair, stroking back the strands. “You are troubled.”
“I don’t know what to do.” She leaned into his touch. She couldn’t help it. “I don’t know whose side I’m on. I don’t know where I’m supposed to be. I don’t know what people want from me. I don’t feel like I’m in control of anything, I’m just being dragged along for the ride. And I hate not having a say in anything.”
“I certainly have not helped your dilemma, I fear.” He smirked slightly. “Forgive me for casting you out. I…”
“I know. And I’m sorry.” She stepped into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. It was still funny to her that she could barely reach all the way around him. Bulky bastard. “I just…the Crystal is just so wrong.”
“I hoped you would come to understand. That perhaps, out in the wilds of Avalon, you might experience the same treachery and violence that forced me to act.” He rested his cheek atop her head and wrapped his arms around her. “But I did not know how much it would grieve me to see you hurt.”
“I’m all right. I’m not alone.”
“You are with the one who brought you here, aren’t you?” His arms tightened around her just slightly.
“Yeah.”
“Will you tell me their name?”
She hesitated. It was just a dream. She knew it was. But she didn’t want to take the risk. “I…can’t.” That was all she’d need. Mordred flying off the fucking handle because of Grinn. She had no idea what kind of chaos that’d cause. She couldn’t take even a fake version of Mordred shouting at her. “I’m sorry.”
“You do not trust me.” He didn’t sound hurt or disappointed. It was just a statement of truth.
