Rendezvous in the woods (Patreon)

Isac lounged on a branch, lying in wait. He’d looked forward to this day, marked it down on his calendar, pestered his cousins about the upcoming appointment with his spy-in-arms, Mordred.

He pulled his dagger from its sheath and flipped it between his fingers, watching the way it glinted where it caught the light. It was not all business though, and he was eager to get his job done quick and proper before moving on to the even more fun part: getting to hang out with a friend.

There was movement down below and he knew the footsteps right away – soft and measured, searching for him. With a grin, and mindful not to snag his clothes, Isac eased himself off the tree, right into Mordred’s path.

He bowed with a flourish, and said: “A good day to you, lone traveler!”

Mordred smiled. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Not at all; besides it’s a pleasant day for waiting. For walking too, if you will.” He gestured down the forest path and they set of at a leisured step.

“You’re all decked out today,” Mordred remarked, studying him out of the corner of their eye. He donned a black silk shirt, cuffs and collar trimmed with lace, leather breeches and silver rings on almost all his fingers. All very deliberate choices.

“All decked out to meet a friend,” he returned and Mordred hummed an uncertain “Aha,” staring at the trees ahead.

“Let’s get down to business,” they said.

They exchanged any useful information they’d managed to accrue since the last meeting, keeping each other updated on goings-on and when all was said and done they moved on to more personal matters.

“How’s life in the Round Table going?”

“Stressful,” Mordred sighed. “There have been some conflicts we got tasked to settle...”

“You had a good time when we kidnapped you,” Isac said, smirking. “Would you like us to do that again? Could give you a break.”

Mordred chuckled. “Don’t tempt me.” They seemed to seriously consider the prospect for a bit, then shook their head. “I wouldn’t want to worry people.” Mordred sighed again, this time less weary and more longingly. “I love our walks in the woods, but I wish we could go into the city too. We could watch a play, visit the market, dance at a tavern …” Mordred trailed off, dreamy gaze trained somewhere ahead, imagining this lovely possibility. When they noticed Isac looking and smiling, they snapped their head away. “What? Do you think it is ridiculous?”

“Not at all,” he smoothly replied, “I’d love that as well.” He looked around, cogs turning in his head. “We may not have plays in the woods – though you are always welcome to show off your fire storytelling – but we have a marketplace of our own. Of sorts. Here.”

He looped his arm around Mordred’s and tugged them along. “Let me show you our range of choices.” He’d spotted a raspberry bush not far off, and presented it to Mordred with a dramatic sweep of his hand. “The Wild Raspberry. Would you care to try?”

Mordred laughed while he plucked berries into their waiting hand. He led them where he knew there was a shrub of blackberries, which they picked as well. When they ate their fill, Isac said “ As for dancing, well, we may not have a band of musicians, but we do have the melody of birds.”

Mordred tilted their head and they both listened out for the peaceful trills and chirps. “Doesn’t sound very dance appropriate,” they said.

“It’s a slow dance,” he replied without skipping a beat. “It’s a brand new style, very revolutionary.” He held out his hand to Mordred. “Shall we?”

Their skin was hot against his. He placed his other hand on their side, and they spun around between the trees, ruled by no rhythm, just pure fun. Mordred was smiling widely now, and so was he, two fools twirling around the forest to no music.

Then Mordred tripped, eyes wide in shock as they tottered dangerously. Isac acted immediately – wrapping his arm around their waist, and pulling them close to him, to safety from the treacherous ground. Mordred stood motionless, flush against his chest. He felt the frantic beating of their heart against his ribcage, their quickened breath against his cheek.

Slowly, they raised their head and met Isac’s eyes. The shock was gone from their face, all that remained was a wondering softness. They seemed too entranced to pull away. Isac dipped his head closer, but didn’t bridge the distance. He wanted nothing more than this, but he waited to see if Mordred would draw away, and put this all behind them.

Mordred didn’t pull away, instead they tilted their head and parted their lips, eyes fluttering close. This time, Isac closed the distance. Their mouth was soft, and they tasted sweet, of berries. The kiss was short, yet tender, a gentle pressing of lips that had him smiling as Mordred pulled back.

“Oh,” Mordred took another step back, letting Isac’s hand slide off them. They seemed surprised at themself, and flustered beyond words. “I – I think we should resume our walk.”

Isac fell obligingly into step with them. They’d have to talk about it eventually, but he decided to wait until Mordred seemed capable of stringing a sentence together.