Wakey Wakey!

"Well, this is quite amusing."

Eravon remarked with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he leisurely stirred his tea.

"Who would have thought that the formidable master A-ranked vice-captain of the notorious Lunatics would be taken down by an inadvertent bonk to the head from his subordinate's Yoyo?"

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks as I buried my face in my hands, trying to hide my embarrassment.

This time, we were in a grand room that likely served as a secondary dining hall in Camelot.

The space was breathtakingly beautiful, with stained glass windows casting vibrant colors across the room and an ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

"It was purely accidental," I groaned, my voice muffled by my palms. "I was completely caught off guard amidst the chaos of battle."

"Indeed," Eravon replied, his tone carrying a hint of skepticism. "Although, one could argue that the sight of Iris gracefully maneuvering around the battlefield may have been a tad distracting."

He took a leisurely sip of his tea, his gaze lingering on me with a knowing glint.

"Can you blame me? She's my girlfriend, and she's absolutely stunning! Besides, I can't shake off the worry, especially considering she's a woman!" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Eravon frowned. "Mordred, your sixth-century mindset is showing."

I winced, realizing my mistake. "Apologies. It's just that I can't help but worry about her recklessness."

"You've been living with her for three years now. Surely you understand by now that she's more than capable of taking care of herself," the immortal warlock pointed out.

I sighed, my grip tightening on my teacup. "I know, Eravon. It's just..."

"Your old-world chivalry surfacing from your past life?" Eravon interjected with a knowing smile.

I nodded with a self-aware chuckle. "I guess old habits die hard."

"Well, it's not a bad thing," he replied, helping himself to a cream puff from the enticing spread of snacks in the center of the table. "I bet Iris would appreciate knowing that someone worries and cares for her."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, swirling my cup absentmindedly. "You're quite optimistic, Eravon. Navigating a proper relationship is new territory for me. I'm not sure where to begin."

Eravon arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "But didn't you have experience with marriage in your past life?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, I suppose I did."

Memories flooded back, and I found myself lost in the image of my former wife. "Her name was Cwyllog. She was a princess, as kind as she was beautiful," I reminisced.

A bittersweet smile tugged at my lips. "I was infatuated with her and asked for her hand in marriage."

"Perhaps it was because of her kindness or my desperate desire to settle down after my many flings that she agreed to become my wife," I recounted with a heavy sigh.

"I loved her, but it became clear that she didn't reciprocate those feelings. To her, I was simply a friend who needed her support."

Eravon winced sympathetically. "Ouch. Friend-zoned by your own wife?"

I couldn't help but smile at his reaction. "Yep. It seems even in my past life, I wasn't the best at romance."

"Well, after your passing, Cwyllog embraced a deeply religious life," Eravon revealed, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. "She will be hailed as a saint in the future."

I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Is that so? I suppose she did always have a passion for establishing a church."

I tilted my head and asked, "What about you? You've lived for so long. Surely you must've been in many relationships."

Eravon chuckled softly, his eyes drifting into the past. "Sorry to disappoint you, Mordred, but I truly loved only one. My wife."

"She was beautiful, kind, and incredibly clever," he reminisced, a melancholic smile touching his lips. "And she had a mischievous streak a mile wide."

His blue eyes sparkled with fondness as he continued, "But what truly set her apart was her unwavering strength. No matter how brutal life became, she never gave up."

"Even after we lost our daughter, even after I was cursed, she never gave up and stood by my side."

"She forgave me for the abominable sin I had committed and dedicated her life to finding a way to free me."

Eravon's voice caught slightly as he went on, "Even when her hair turned grey, and her body became feeble, she never gave up. And in her final moments, she showed me what true love and resilience really meant."

"Her passing left a void in me that grew with each passing day. It was a gut-wrenching pain, unlike anything I had ever felt," he confessed, his hand clasping his chest as if to ease the lingering ache.

"For a few hundred years, I endured, but the void only seemed to deepen. So I sought solace in the company of other women, hoping they might fill the emptiness, but none were able to do it."

"And just when I thought I would be condemned to live with that heart-wrenching void forever, a courtesan offered me unexpected wisdom."

His eyes twinkled as he spoke. "She told me that I shouldn't merely endure the emptiness, but rather fill it with the cherished memories I had of my wife."

A gentle smile graced Eravon's lips as he recalled her words. "She assured me that my wife always watches over me, and no matter where I go, she will be there with me, right here," he said, tapping his chest.

I chuckled. "Profound words from a woman of the night. No disrespect intended, of course."

Eravon shrugged. "None taken. Besides, she was once a philosophy student before circumstances led her down a different path."

"Her words saved me, in a way. And in return, I saved her. I took her under my wing, and she blossomed into one of the most powerful warlocks of her time," he said in a voice filled with pride.

"Huh. Looks like people you help tend to become rather successful in life," I remarked.

Eravon gave a proud smirk. "I'm such an amazing master. Just ask Merlin. I transformed that once-whiny girl into a figure revered by the entire world on the level of a god."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Merlin, a whiny kid? That's unexpected. I'm intrigued to learn more about her past now."

"You should hear it from her. It wasn't sunshine and roses for her," Eravon replied, setting down his cup and reclining slightly.

"To be candid, her past was a series of nightmares, ones that continue to haunt her every day."

I frowned. "Are you trying to make me sympathize with the woman who ruined the life of the previous owner of this body?"

Eravon shook his head. "I'm suggesting you comprehend her motivations, not necessarily sympathize with them."

"Well, I'll consider understanding her after I've landed a solid punch on her jaw," I declared, cracking my knuckles.

He chuckled softly. "Oh, I don't particularly mind you landing a punch on her pretty face."

I stared at him, a grin spreading across my face. "You are such an amazing teacher."

Eravon laughed heartily. "Yes, I am!"

We shared a moment of camaraderie, our laughter echoing in the room.

As the laughter subsided, a mischievous glint appeared in Eravon's eyes.

"So? How is life in a relationship?" he inquired.

I shrugged, a smile playing on my lips. It had been four months since Iris and I became a couple.

Those four months were just the best.

"The usual routine, with the added bonus of dates, making out, and kissing," I replied.

"Lots of making out and kissing," I emphasized, taking a sip of my tea.

Eravon smiled knowingly. "Yeah. I noticed. That's a lot of hickeys."

I awkwardly adjusted my collar to hide the bruises. "Yep."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Have you two taken things to the next level?"

"You mean sex?" I chuckled. "No. Not yet."

Eravon tilted his head curiously. "Why not? You two seem very close, and it's evident both of you are randy teens crazy about each other."

"You wouldn't believe it, but the shameless Iris is quite shy when it comes to that," I explained.

Eravon arched his eyebrows. "Huh. That child never ceases to surprise me."

"Also, we don't feel comfortable with Minerva's constant monitoring," I added, leaning back in my chair.

He nodded thoughtfully. "If I remember correctly, the red-light area blocks most of her monitoring, so she can only read the vitals."

I nodded. "That's why most Deathwalkers do the deed in the red-light area."

"But you and Iris are banned from there," Eravon pointed out.

"Yep," I sighed. "Plus, we don't feel particularly safe in the Shield."

"Sure, it's like the only home we have, but the constant vigilance becomes ingrained, even in our sleep."

"Indeed," Eravon mused, pouring himself another cup of tea. "It's not the most conducive environment for, well, you know..."

I chuckled softly. "Yeah, definitely not the ideal setting for having passionate lovemaking."

"Well, it won't be long before you two leave the Shield. I suggest you find a nice place far away from the North and then go crazy in bed," Eravon chimed in, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Sounds like a good idea. I already have a place in mind," I confirmed, my thoughts lingering on the possibilities ahead.

Eravon caught the contemplative look on my face and smiled knowingly. "So, will you wait until next year to leave with her, or will you heed her wishes and go next month?"

I sighed, the weight of the decision pressing on me. "I don't know, Eravon. Part of me wants to stay with her until the end of her sentence, to see it through together."

"But another part of me wants to respect her wish to leave early, to find us a place where we can finally be together in peace."

I gripped my teacup tightly, feeling the warmth seep into my hands. "I just don't know what to do."

Eravon leaned back, his expression softening. "Don't dwell on it now. You still have a month to decide," he said, before flicking my forehead playfully.

"Ow," I protested, rubbing the spot as the room began to dissolve around us, the vibrant colors fading into white.

"It seems our time together is drawing to a close once more," Eravon remarked, a hint of sadness in his smile.

He turned to me, the familiar playful glint in his eyes returning. "If you ever need relationship advice or tips to woo Iris, just knock yourself out on the battlefield again. I have millennia of experience, my disciple."

I scoffed, a grin tugging at my lips. "Says the guy who can't get over his wife."

"Hey, that's uncouth!" Eravon shot back, frowning theatrically before breaking into a smile.

"Let's meet again, Mordred."

I nodded, standing as the world around us dissolved into a bright, blinding white.

"See you later."

*******

I opened my eyes, and the first thing I saw was her face.

"Hey there, sleeping beauty. Wakey, wakey," Iris chirped, her grin as infectious as ever.

I groaned as I sat up, glancing around with a furrowed brow. "Aren't I supposed to be in Althea until I regain consciousness? What am I doing in our room?"

"Oh, I kidnapped you," Iris declared, flashing me a shameless smile.

I raised an eyebrow, incredulous. "Seriously?"

"Yep. The staff in Althea wouldn't let me watch you sleep," she explained, her playful pout almost convincing.

"They're worried you might start biting me," I pointed out, amused.

I lifted the plain white t-shirt I was wearing, inspecting the myriad of scars on my torso for her signature bite marks.

"Wow. You actually restrained yourself," I remarked, genuinely impressed as I met her gaze.

Iris smirked mischievously. "Of course, I can restrain myself. I was too busy watching you sleep. You look so cute, making all those adorable noises."

I smirked back. "What can I say? Even in my sleep, I'm enchanting."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Sure, sure. You were so hot while asleep that I couldn't resist kissing you."

"Ah, that explains why my lips feel tingly," I said, a sly smile playing on my lips as I leaned forward, our gazes locking.

"Looks like I'm still a bit asleep. Care to wake me up?" I teased, my tone low and inviting.

Iris raised an eyebrow, her smirk mirroring mine. "Very smooth, Mordred. Very smooth."

She chuckled softly, leaning in closer, her lips mere inches from mine.

"But who said I wanted to wake you up?" she whispered in my ear, her words sending a shiver down my spine.

Before I could respond, she closed the distance between us, her lips capturing mine in a kiss that was tender yet electrifying.

She got me again.

***

Time for Arthurian Legend Fun Facts!

From the tiny amount of research I did (Wikipedia *cough*), three characters were seen as candidates for Mordred's spouse in the legends.

The first one was Guinevere. In the Historia and other related texts that show Mordred rather sympathetically, Mordred marries Guinevere consensually after he takes the throne of Britain.

But in writings like the Lancelot-Grail cycle (an early 13th-century French Arthurian literary cycle consisting of interconnected prose episodes of chivalric romance originally written in Old French that retells the Arthurian Legend, focusing on the love affair between Lancelot and Guinevere, the religious quest for the Holy Grail, and the life of Merlin.), Guinevere runs away from Mordred's proposal to the Tower of London.

The second one is Gwenhwyfach, the sister of Guinevere. The Lancelot-Grail cycle refers to her as a 'False Guinevere'. In this cycle, she is called Genievre and is the identical but evil half-sister of the real Guinevere from a different mother.

This evil woman, also referred to as the Lady of Camelide (Dame de Camelide), enchanted Arthur, leading him astray and causing him to forsake the true Guinevere. Eventually, she succumbed to illness, confessing her misdeeds on her deathbed.

In The Misfortunes of Elphine by Thomas Love Peacock, she was associated with Mordred as his wife.

The third candidate was Cwyllog, a Christian holy woman who was active in Anglesey, Wales, in the early 6th century. She was a daughter, sister, and niece of saints.

Her connection to Mordred originated with readings of Hector Boece, a Scottish philosopher and historian. Some scholars identified "Gawolane" as Caw of Prydyn or St Caw, a king in northern Britain who lost his lands and sought safety with his family in Anglesey. He was the father of Cwyllog.

Based on statements made by Boece, the 18th-century Welsh antiquarian Lewis Morris suggested that Cwyllog was the wife of Mordred and according to the 19th-century Welsh antiquarian Angharad Llwyd, in her History of Anglesey, Cwyllog decided to follow a religious life after her husband died in battle against Arthur at the Battle of Camlann.

Among these three, I chose Cwyllog as she seemed to be the kind of person who would want to help a villain like Mordred, to help him heal while not truly loving him.

This was a rather long Arthurian fun fact and I hope I didn't mess it up. If you guys find any mistakes, be sure to tell me in the comments.

Hope ya'll enjoy this!