A/N: This chapter's longer! And there's man-on-man action! Although...it's somewhat unrequited. Hope you don't mind. -Wink- As if you didn't gather that much from the title of the chapter. Dedicated to my newly-met fellow Mordred fan, S.N. Wolfe. He, too, has an awesome Mordred story which you must check out. Also, I updated for my friend Steff, because she kept saying she'd die before I overcame my laziness, so she'd better review to appease me. ;3

Warnings: This chapter has (gasp) a kiss between boys. Mean queens and angry princes abound. Don't read if you can't stomach it.

Chapter Three: Parting

The world shattered around me, and all I could do was stare at her. I didn’t feel the sting of my wounds, I didn’t hear my mother’s sobs, I saw nothing save Queen Morgause’s smugly smiling face.

Finally, after taking a deep, steadying breath, I replied, “That is not possible. My mother is right here.” I placed a hand on top of my mother’s head for emphasis. Morgause’s smile immediately waned, and she glared at my mother.

“This woman?” she asked bitterly, looking somewhat offended. “She is naught but my lady's maid, is all. Perhaps you can think her the nurse who weaned you, but your blood is mine.”

I could say nothing to her. I did not know how to reply. My head was spinning, and my mother’s wailing, if that was even who she was, truly wasn’t helping. I pried her fingers from around my waist, albeit gently, and took a seat on one of the decorated benches, laying my head in my arms. It made sense when I thought about it. My mother always telling me I was a prince, the way Gaheris and his brothers acted around me, how I looked nothing like my mother. But still...

“If you are truly my mother,” I finally began weakly, hating the way my voice quivered. “then why did you leave me with her?”

My words came off as unintentionally harsh, and my mother winced at the way I said ‘her’. I offered her what I hoped to be a soothing smile, but she would not meet my eyes, and her ruddy face was colored with shame. When I looked up, Queen Morgause was smiling appreciatively, her cool emerald eyes alight with amusement. Those eyes that were so like my own. It hurt, but at the same time, it felt exhilarating.

“There was trouble with the High King,” she explained at last, nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t just appeared out of nowhere and torn my life apart. “He wanted blood tribute for a crime that he, ah, perceived I committed, but I could not let you die. Lady Madra, whose child was close to you in age and looked a bit like you as well, kindly offered her babe to die in your place.” She pinned my mother, Madra, with her cruel gaze, and I watched the woman who’d raised me shiver. “But, in return, she had the honor of raising you, a prince, as her own, at least until I knew things had settled in court.”

Feeling angered with her for barging into my home and scaring my mother, I replied scathingly, “Well, Queen Morgause, even if you are my mother, what did you hope to accomplish by coming here?”

She smiled a reptilian smile, contorting her pretty face into something horrifying, and said, “Because, my dear, I am taking you to Orkney, and later, to Camelot.”

I didn’t stay to hear any more from her.

“I’m leaving,” I whispered sadly. Terry looked down at me with wide eyes. I’d run away from home to be with him, at least for the moment, and we were currently in the small woodland behind his father’s shop while he properly bandaged my wounds. After a second of just staring at me, he smiled, albeit weakly.

“And where are you going, eh, ffwl?” he asked, probably thinking I was just jesting. Tears filled my eyes and I fell to my knees. He fell after me, shock and concern brightening his soft brown eyes. “Eh, Mordred, why are you weeping? Don’t tell me you truly are leaving Bryn-Rhyd-Yr-Arian?”

My silence was answer enough for him. After a second he buried his head in his arms and laughed feebly.

“Wherefore are you leaving, Mordred?” he finally asked, sounding resigned, and I looked at him carefully. He didn’t want me to leave. That was plainly visible. Normally, I would have loved to know that, but it was not for the reasons I wished. He simply did not want to lose his closest friend. I didn’t want to lose him, either, but what could I do? I told him what Queen Morgause had told me about my true origins, and he listened intently, patient for the first time since the decade I had known him.

Finally, he smiled, and said, softly, “This is great, Mordred. You can finally leave this sleepy village and live an exciting, enchanting life. Perhaps you can even go to Camelot and meet the High King, being that you’re his nephew now.”

I glared at him. He was such an idiot, really. But when he stared back with those soulful, apologetic brown eyes, I knew I couldn’t stay mad. In any other situation, I would have laughed. This was so normal for us. I couldn’t help my temper and I always glared at him for his naivety. Even though he didn’t understand what he had done to make me mad, he always looked so sorry. I always forgave him.

“I don’t want to leave here,” I finally confided, tucking down my eyes. They were beginning to feel wet again. “Leaving Bryn-Rhyd-Yr-Arian to become a knight is your dream. All I’ve ever wanted was to stay with the two people I love the most.”

I flushed darkly and twisted my hands in the material of my trousers, unable to meet his eyes. When I finally gathered the courage to look up, I found that he was gaping at me. Ah, so he’d finally figured it out? Or perhaps he’d just got the first clue.

“Y-you mean me, Mordred? And your mam, of course, but me?” He sounded so surprised that, even with all the chaos around us, I had to laugh.

“Yes, you, ffwl,” I replied, and he flushed darkly. I stared at him for a second, unable to swallow, and before I knew what was happening, I was reaching out for him. One of my arms locked around his shoulders while the other held his head in place at his cheek. I could feel his quick breaths against my lips, could feel the heat of his blush, could feel the silkiness of the soft brown lock I’d curled around my finger. And, before I could really think about it, I pressed my lips to his.

It was my first time doing this, though some of the village boys, older than Terry and I, had told me what it was like. None of their descriptions could hold a candle to what I felt with Terry. His lips were so soft, and in his shock, everything beyond was open to me. I felt a fire light up in my chest as I molded my mouth to his, and he, in his shock, did nothing to help nor hinder me. Finally, his strong hands came up to grasp my shoulders, and roughly. This contact brought me back to my senses and I jumped away from him, heart beating wildly.

“Mordred, I...” he began, face flushed and words panted out, but I didn’t wait for him to finish. I ran away, as fast as my feet could carry me. I felt eyes boring into my back the whole way out of town, if that was possible.

Two weeks went by in the blink of an eye. Though I wished it and wished it, Terry never came to see me in that time. Of course, I’d admit that it would have been difficult, as Queen Morgause and her sons had taken up residence in our home, and the villagers, who’d never before taken interest in me, were now fighting to get but a glimpse.

Still, as I sat there in my bed chambers, a pillow clutched against my chest, I dreamed. I dreamt that Terrwyn would climb up my balcony and into my chambers. I dreamt that, in secret, we would hold and kiss. I dreamt that he would whisper how he’d miss me, how he would promise to return to my side, no matter where I went. He would whisper how he loved me... But he never came.

Instead, I interacted more with my brothers, and occasionally with Queen Morgause, though she was usually busy with daunting the hired help and mocking the ever present peasantry. In that time, I found surprisingly pleasant company in Agravaine, whom I had instantly disliked when I first met him. We had odd conversations, Agravaine and I, more often than not, as Gawain was too old to really interact with me, though not much older than Agravaine was. Gareth felt too shy to meet with me, or so his green-eyed brother informed me, and Gaheris was still upset with me for winning one over on him, as was his view of the whole matter. Agravaine was the only person who seemed to understand me, and he sympathized with me. I remembered the secret he'd confided in me, that he'd told no one else.

“You hate our mother, do you not, Mordred?” he asked, after suddenly barging into my room one day. I’d taken to sitting alone, wallowing in my depression, and he was the only one who’d shattered my melancholy. He brought in food for me that I rarely touched, and offered his silent company when I felt truly lonely and heartbroken. Because of this, I felt obliged to reply to him.

“I-I do not hate her, but I hate what she’s done to my life,” I answered, half truthfully. How could I not hate her? She’d twisted my heart in one of her delicate, lily-white, gloved hands. Agravaine smiled at me wanly, as if I’d said something of great amusement.

“Do not lie, dear little Prince,” he laughed, and I flushed at the recurring nickname. “It is all right to hate our mother. I hate her myself, if you really must know. Because of her, I hold no trust for the fairer sex, lest they all be as cruel as she.”

His green eyes clouded over with hate, and his mouth formed a sneer, while my own eyes widened in shock. What was he saying? Was this just a test? But before I had a chance to figure it out, his expression cleared away, and he shook his head like a wet dog, before smiling. Turning to me, he pressed a hand to the top of my head affectionately.

“But you, Mordred. You resemble him, and she must hate looking upon you for that. So I will make it my goal to love you as neither she nor he can,” he said, and I flushed, confused. What was he talking about. This was the second time it was mentioned that I resembled someone. But who? “I shall care for you when no one does, my brother.”

“Agravaine...” I whispered, touched, though I couldn’t fathom why. If he and his mother had never shown up here, I would have been happy, with Terry and my mother. But that he cared for me, even though we’d only just met, warmed me on that cold night.

“Now, may sleep be upon you. We ride on the morrow, so rest.” And, with that final command, Agravaine rose up from my bed and left my chambers. Indeed I went to sleep, but it was not a restless night by far.

I rose before the sun to watch it ascend over Bryn-Rhyd-Yr-Arian. This place had been my home and heart since my mother and I had arrived here, refugees sent by Morgause. No matter the tale, there was one piece that always frequented it, and that was my mother. My true mother who had raised and loved me, who had tucked me in at night, who had read me epic tales, who had kissed me, even when I was marred with dirt, knowing that I was not her blood. Knowing that her true child had been slain because of me. I crept to her chambers slowly, and my heart, pieced together bit by bit in the weeks behind me, broke again at the sound of her sobs. She was already mourning me.

“Mother,” I endeavored quietly, and the sobs died down, though the quiet was occasionally broken by hiccups. If I’d thought she’d looked bad upon Morgause’s initial arrival, she now looked like a woman near death. Her normally ruddy cheeks were sunken, as were her eyes, and these had bags under them. I’d heard from the whispering attendants that she hadn’t been taking her meals, but I didn’t think that it had gotten this bad.

“M-Mordred,” she called, her brown eyes filled with shock. After a moment, she beckoned me in with emaciated wrists, and whispered, somewhat bitterly, “You do not have to call me ‘mother’ anymore.” Before I could stop her, she fell gracelessly off her bed and into a messy bow. “I am but your humble subject, Prince Mordred.”

I walked over to her stiffly, but with determination, and fell to my knees before her, making her rise. I wrapped my arms around her shaking form, and thought briefly to ask the servants to take care of her. She needed looking after, it seemed.

“You will always be my mother, lady Madra, whether you birthed me or not,” I promised, smiling despite the fact that, no matter what I wanted, I’d be leaving her side, to be beside that of the cold Queen Morgause. I kissed her sweaty forehead, streaked with hair though it was, and she seemed to warm at the tender display, though she still refused to meet my eyes. Sighing, I blew a stray lock of black hair, one of the things that separated us as mother and son, from my face, and tucked my hand under her chin so our eyes could meet. “I may be leaving, but it is not because I wish to, nor will I ever stop loving you, my mother. I shall never forget you, and I will return, when I can, to visit you, so take care of yourself till the day we are reunited.”

“Oh, Mordred,” she cried, placing one of her small hands over her quivering mouth. She clutched me to her desperately, and I wrapped my arms about her, fighting the cold like a woolen cloak. We stayed like that for an eternity, on the cold, stone floor of her chambers, and it was our last moment together as mother and son. Many hours later, after we’d already lifted ourselves off the floor and taken a seat near the hearth, Agravaine came to take me.

“Lady Madra,” he greeted, bowing elegantly, and mother blushed. Then, he turned to me, and, very solemnly, said, “Come, Mordred. We must take our leave.”

Giving Mother a final kiss, I said goodbye to my home of fifteen years.

Morgause made one of her guards give away his steed to me. Unlike Alis, this was a true beast, muscled and mighty, and he had a saddle. This made it a little more comfortable to ride, but not by much. Still, we began to ride away, everyone else more at ease than I. Gawain, Gaheris, and Gareth rode before us, Queen Morgause in between with her carriage, surrounded by guards. The man who’s steed I’d borrowed was forced to wait until a beast could be sent back for him. This left Agravaine, who rode slowly to keep me company, and I in the rear.

We’d already left the vicinity of the castell, and were halfway through Bryn-Rhyd-Yr-Arian, when I heard a shout behind me.

“Mordred,” a voice called, and I turned to find Terry. I’d seen him not at all in these last few weeks, so I was surprised by the brunt of my feelings when I finally saw him again. My heart began to clamor beneath my ribs and tunic, and I suddenly found it harder to breath, though it had nothing to do with the ride on the horse. “Wait for me, Mordred!”

“Terrwyn,” I whispered, pulling my beast to a stop almost unconsciously. But when I turned to Agravaine, he only smiled and nodded.

“Go to him,” he said. “I shall cover for you. They’ll not notice a thing.”

I felt so grateful to him at that moment, and I offered him a tearful smile, unable to speak. He nodded again, understanding me when even I could not. I went to him, then, my first love.

“Terrwyn,” I whispered again, getting off my horse and standing beside him. He panted from the effort of keeping up with our horses, but when he looked up, he was smiling. My breath caught up in my throat at the expression. “Oh, Terry.”

“Thought you could leave without saying goodbye, did you?” he asked, grinning, and I smiled back. He hugged me, his strong, bear-like arms an impossible cage to escape, though I didn’t really even want to. I breathed in his earthy scent for the last time in what would probably be a very long time.

When we pulled I apart, I began to say, “Terry...about earlier...” but he cut me off with a raised hand.

“Why don’t we just put that behind us, eh?” he asked, and though saddened that he disregarded my feelings so easily, I was relieved as well. I nodded in acquiesce, and his smile widened. He placed a hand on top of my hair and ruffled my locks. “I’ll miss you, boyo. You’ve been my best mate, the person I’ve cared for most, since we first met. Promise me you’ll become a great knight, Mordred, and I promise that I’ll see you again.”

Though it had never been my dream to become a knight, I swore to him that I would, for the chance of meeting him again someday. I said my goodbyes without tears, knowing that I’d see him, if only I kept my promise.

A/N: Aww, wasn't that semi-sweet and terribly sad all at once? But don't worry your pretty little heads over it, because Mordred will survive and move on. First crushes never last, in my experience. Mordred'll move on to bigger and better things, though not for a while yet.

Sweet-Revolution Awards: Guess what, guys? I'm judging for the oh-so-awesome SRAs. They're an award much like the SKoWs, but only for slash fiction on FP. Anyway, nominations last till August eighth and I think you all should go and nominate! The link, without the spaces, is [http : // sweet - revolution . webs . com /]. Go there! You can meet some awesome people in the forums, I'll tell you now. Slash authors are the funnest people you'll ever know. No lie. And most of them are some of the best authors on FP. I was totally star-struck when there, you know? XD

Thanks: To my sparse few readers. I hold extra special love for you. ^^

Aviatorlisa: Aww, I'm so glad you liked the fight scene. It was my first fight scene, and I was kind of anxious. This is the second kiss I've ever written (the first being in Boy Bride), and I have to say I was less anxious, so I'll probably be more relaxed with later fight scenes.

R&R: Pretty please give me feedback. I'd love to hear from all of you. Thanks. :3 I'm kind of unsure about this chapter. The convo between Agravaine and Mordred makes me squicky --- I dunno why. What did you think of the kiss? Do you want to pelt rocks at Terry? I do! Why do you have to be straight, stupid Terrwyn! Er, ahem, never mind that --- just review!