You can read this story and take part in writing challenges on Tales From a Modern Bard: http://talesfromamodernbard.blogspot.com/2014/11/the-voices-beneath-epilogue.html
I recovered from my wounds, and Camelot recovered from the war. There was much to do to get everything back to normal and Arthur and the knights of the Round Table were busy repairing diplomatic alliances and forming new ones against more unrest. It was long, tiring work, but it had to be done, and Camelot was a stronger kingdom because of it.
I felt awkward returning to my comrades upon my recovery, once again appointed knight by Arthur, but I never should have feared being pushed away by them, for they were true comrades to the end of time, as I had always seen them; my family, and they took me back like the prodigal son, into the warmth of their friendship, Gawain especially. I never knew whether they had heard the entire story, but assumed they must have, even if we never spoke of it again. It was all in the past now. After I had made my peace with Arthur I had pushed it behind me. I didn’t even have nightmares anymore about Morgan la Fay; it seemed that now that all my troubles had passed, and I knew they would not come about again, I felt as if they had all been part of a past life, a dream that I had woken from into the real world.
Apart from my reinstatement of knighthood, I was also, officially, made Arthur’s heir and crowned prince of Camelot, after he and Guinevere officially adopted me. It was what I had wanted most since I met Arthur, but still I had felt the need to protest. It was not my place, and I feared what everyone would say. But it was Guinevere herself who persuaded me with her gentle kindness that was everything one could want from a mother. She was the one who’s reaction I had feared the most, for Arthur too had kept his secrets and had never let on to Guinevere that he had once thought me to be his son until Morgan had let that slip in front of the entire court. I had long feared the disgrace that revelation would have opened upon the queen, but she put all my fears to rest when she welcomed me herself into her family with open arms and a warm embrace. I shed many tears that day, and only barely kept them from appearing during the ceremony.
Camelot is one of the greatest kingdoms Britain ever saw, and I hope it will be remembered for long years to come. It is my home in every sense of the word. Thinking back, I still find it hard to believe that the young waif who Morgan la Fay scraped from the streets came to that magnificent place and became a prince. There are many other stories that I could tell, but I will leave it at this for now, for this is my own, and I feel this ending is sufficient for an amateur bard as myself. I hope that you might have enjoyed this tale, whether you choose to believe it or not, about changing destiny and fate with something so simple and yet so strong. For love shall always conquer hatred in the end.
And now, I, Mordred, shall leave you with this story. For there are still many left to tell and I wish to be a part of as many as I can.
©Copyright 2014 by Hazel B West