Inspired by idealized_sue: "I mean take Guinevere for instance. She’s painted in history as being a total hoebag and is pretty much the reason given for the fall of Camelot." From here.
Not t' speak ill of th' dead, but Mordred was a right bastard. Literally. Y' see, th' thing is, he was Arthur's illegitimate son from a previous romance. Not sure why that never worked out, but there y' have it. Right, so, since he was a bastard, he couldn't exactly become King, now could he? Not that he didn't try, th' blighter.
He was ever a grand one for spreading rumours, mostly about me. When he couldn't get me inta bed himself, like I'd have him, th' wanker started spreading lies about me and Lance. I'll have y' know not a bloody word of it was true.
Thing was, Lance was m' bodyguard, m' protector. He was a grand friend for when Arthur was off on "state business." Lance taught me more about swords and defending m' self than I'd already learned. But he never, not once, ever so much as made a pass at me. He respected that Arthur and I were married, and that was th' end of it.
Mordred, may he eternally be buggered by Satan himself, used our friendship t' tear apart th' country. And th' more I tried to fight his rumours, th' more it just egged him on. Got t' be where I was damned one way or th' other. Course it didn't help that Lance was known t' be a bit protective of me. If folks started t' get a bit carried away, he'd step right in and tell 'em t' piss off. Well, maybe not in s' many words, but y' get th' point.
Before I knew it, rumours went round that Lance wasn't th' only bloke I was shagging. T' hear tell, there wasn't a man between th' ages of sixteen t' seventy that I hadn't taken t' bed. Granted, it wouldn't surprise me a bit if half those rumours were started by th' rest of th' wagging tongues at court. Still, Mordred was th' one t' get that particular ball a'rolling.
Meanwhile, there was th' whole problem of Arthur and me not having bairns. Th' truth being that I just flat out can't have any. Which meant that there weren't any other heirs t' th' throne but Mordred. Which was pretty much why he started th' crap about me an' Lance.
Right. So, Arthur gets back from one of his trips and hears about all that mess. Needless t' say, he was bloody well pissed. Not at me or Lance, mind, but at Mordred. Called him out, he did. Sent th' sod packing then and there. Not that it did much good, course.
'Bout a year or so later, just as things are starting t' calm down a bit after th' shite he'd stirred, Mordred shows back up with a full on army t' challenge Arthur. Course men are a bit pigheaded when it comes t' proving themselves in combat. Arthur was no exception. He felt Mordred just needed t' be taught a lesson.
Battle being what it was then, Arthur led his army and Mordred his. It was no surprise t' anyone that th' two came to right blows. Arthur, God rest him, gave as good as he got, and Mordred was dead before sunset. As for himself, Arthur didn't live but another two days after.
So, th' fact of th' matter is, it wasn't my fault or Lance's that Camelot fell apart. It was Mordred, may he rot in hell.Quinnleigh Kincaid
No particular Mordred or Arthur muses implied/used. Lance is her_champion & headmate.