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[maydaybrat]

Mordred is dreaming.

He is dreaming, and tossing and turning in his bed as his mind walks in a forest. He's searching for something...something he doesn't know, but he knows he has to find it, has to

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[white_flowers]

She is impossibly distant from the end of worlds and from the dreams of those who wait there, and yet it does not matter, not in this-- not for him.

"Show me the one that I seek -- show me Mordred, and let him hear my voice," she commands the glass, and the light musical tone seems almost to chime in discordant harmony with the brazen bell that tolls once from the shadows high above the emerald throne.

"Show me!"

The smoke within the glass swirls wildly-- and then parts, revealing the young man walking within his own dream.

Blodwen smiles, and murmurs softly.

"Mordred-- my robin prince, come and see. Come and see, Mordred. Look to the pool, look to the water... come and see."

[maydaybrat]

He pauses, turning his head this way and that.

"Anghared?" His soft voice isn't mocking, just curious. Searching.

Look to the pool, look to the water...

One step, and another, and then he's on his knees, peering at the water.

[white_flowers]

The surface of the pool shimmers as if stirred by a breeze and then suddenly stills. Now it is as clear as crystal, clear as mirror-glass-- but instead of his own reflection, this mirror shows a familiar face.

Angharad-Blodwen smiles warmly at him. She is dressed in white, as usual, but it is white with a green tint to it, the color of spring grass.

"My robin. My dearest prince. Goodness, but it has been so long..."

[maydaybrat]

A wry smile.

"Aye, it has. Heard a house fell on you..."