Faint and Weary

  • castle.

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    October 14th, 2016 at 02:10am
  • ashen knight;

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    He had long forgotten what it was like to walk these streets of the city again, where he had spent most of his time, growing up, getting into fights, learning to survive. Things that here, on a minor scale, helped him ross the desolate lands further away, fight many battles, claim lives, and live to come back here again. He had left one night with only a few words to Arthur, a written note saying not to await his return for the next few rounds of full moons, and disappeared for that period. Lance briefly wondered what Arthur had felt. It was sudden, very unlike Lance, to go vanishing so quick, but alas - there were things calling him.

    Now here he trudged through dirt and grime, all soggy and runny after a rain, although the sky had cleared as if to welcome him back and the sun shone down harshly. His cloak barely touched the ground, but it was knee-deep in mud. His boots were even less appealing.

    Lance had arrived into the city just this morning, early enough so that he could catch Arthur possibly training, or still within the vicinity of their living quarters - if the man still lived there that is. Though why any of them would move was something unreasonable and Lance didn't bother to think it anymore. He passed the squares and the courts where people gathered for the morning markets, pausing here and there, stopping once or twice to listen to gossip, to preachers, to random talk - all to catch up on what he had lately missed out. The news among them all was the same. Something about a sword in a stone. This legend Lance had heard even two cities away, and many men he met on the roads travelled here for this sword. Greatness was promised to whoever pulled it out - apparently. Lance smirked, and shifted back into the crowd, sifting through and finding himself back on a familiar alley. Had Arthur tried?

    Soon enough he came upon a familiar door, and pushed it open with the tip of his foot. It swung into the courtyard of a few houses, where a few men were fighting it out in the middle, already working up a sweat. Lance shut the door behind him, and tugged off his hood, staying silent as he watched with amusement, letting the men finish their fight.

    [I hope this is okay!!]
    October 14th, 2016 at 03:54pm
  • castle.

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    Arthur hadn't seen it coming, hadn't expected for his best friend to up and decide to leave the city one day. They had pretty much grown up together. For Arthur, there wasn't really a childhood that he could remember but at some point, he had met Lance after the murder of his adopted family on the farm just outside of the city's official limits. The only thing he remembered from the night was his father telling him to run and hide in the barn, that he would come for him as soon as he could. As soon as the barn was torched, Arthur had squirmed out from under the hay and escaped through a little door in the far corner. He had never run so far and so fast in his life and would likely never again. There was a certain adrenaline that coursed through your veins when you knew you had no fight worth giving in you and that your only choice was to run.

    When Lance left, Arthur had only continued to throw himself into the depths of training, going as hard as he could. As much of the explanation that Lance had been able to offer wasn't enough to calm his nerves so he had done what he always did when he was angry or frustrated over something - trained from sun up to sun down with maybe one or two breaks in between to eat and take a few moments to let his muscles relax.

    Today had started out like any other day, he woke early and scarfed down food to make sure his energy was kept up. The first few days had proven that a breakfast was highly necessary and so he had learned the lesson happily - he didn't tire by noon if he ate early on in the day.

    Having just finished the bout of fights that would finish shortly after noon. "Thanks," Arthur grumbled as one of the others tossed him a towel to use to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He looked up after a moment, only to freeze in his spot when he made eye contact with a very familiar man. A grin broke onto his features moments later and he was running toward Lance, not bothering to slow his movements as he tackled the man to the ground.

    "Don't you ever do that to me again, you asshole," Arthur hissed, pushing to his feet. He offered a hand to help his friend off, a shiteating grin spreading onto his lips. "Well?"
    October 16th, 2016 at 11:02pm
  • ashen knight;

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    [Btw! Does the pic have to be a gif? 'Cause there are no gifs of Anya D: ]

    It took his friend a moment, but that was all it took, and Lance was pleased that it did not take more - for he would have surely given Arthur an earful to recover that memory. He braced himself as the other ran to him, and stepped aside ever so slightly so that their heads would not hit the walls, letting himself be tackled onto the ground into the dirt and mud. There was a bath nearby, he did not care for some dirt - especially not with his friend here again.

    Only grinning in return, he gave Arthur's back a pat in their embrace on the ground and got up, brushing off his shoulder and mirroring Arthur's expression. He stepped forward, slinging an arm over the other's shoulder and bringing him in. "Oh brother, you have no idea. I don't even know where to begin." He cast his head back and laughed, shaking Arthur as he did. "Oh, I do. A bottle of mead or ale. My lips are as dry as desserts." He didn't need an invitation - he knew where the kitchen was, and walked with Arthur there - luckily not stopped by any other familiar faces - for the halls were empty in this early hour. The mead was fetched and they retreated to a more secluded corner of the mess hall, where Lance kicked his feet up onto the edge of the table and leaned back. He let out a long sigh after a few good gulps and said, "You should go out. Travel the land a bit. You'd love it. So many men to fight, to brawl, places to see and dungeons to raid. Plains and mountains as far as the eye can see. Oh, and the women." He smirked and wiggled his foot and finger at Arthur, "All different shapes and sizes and colours. I've never seen the likes of them - and their men - around. One had ears, like," he gestured to his ear and made a little pointy tip on it. "But longer." He shook his head in wonder and took another gulp. He set the cup down and after a quick scan of the room, leaned in and murmured, "And dragons. Eggs as big as man, claws the size of my arms. I saw one," he looked to the side, "Or more," he returned his look on Arthur, "Scales like water, shiny but stronger than the strongest stone or metal or iron you've ever known. Eyes like embers, teeth like swords. Wings… one beat of them stirred a mean wind. A few more and you're in a storm." He leaned back, and tapped the table with his finger, idly looking back at his now empty cup.

    "What about you? Anything new? I hear there is a sword not far from here. They call or men to test their strengths. Have you?" It was not a thing Lance saw Arthur run to do, but maybe out of his own curiosity the man would have attended. Or maybe the pride was tough, and the knowledge of failing to pull it out would weigh heavy on one's shoulders - let alone failing in life and in front of many. the crowd he had seen gathered about the stone (though he did not see the sword itself) was massive. Almost as big as a coronary's ceremony. "And how's the royalty?" This wasn't a wanted question, but necessary. "Still scum?"

    @ varkatzas.
    October 17th, 2016 at 03:12pm
  • castle.

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    "Men to fight?" Arthur echoed, his face scrunching a bit at the suggestion. This was all sort of different from the training they did on a usual basis, the friendly banter that they were both so accustomed to. Sure, bruises and scrapes and if things got a little too serious, a broken bone but nothing that ever resulted in certain death. It wasn't that Arthur was afraid of legitimate combat because he had participated in his fair share of fights in the streets with thugs or rowdy, drunken men and so he knew he was more than capable. But at the mention of women, a smile brightened his features as he leaned forward. "Yeah? Maybe I should have gone with you then," he countered, his smile contorting into a smirk. "Maybe next time? We still have plenty of years left to travel. Unless you found someone worth leaving me for?" Arthur started, feigning pain as he held a hand over his heart.

    Perking up at the mention of the dragons, Arthur's eyebrows pulled together in mild surprise. Dragons? "Why were you around dragons? They're dangerous, you idiot. Don't you know that? Were you trying to die in your travels?" He hissed, his eyes narrowing a bit as he looked to his brother. "You're such an idiot sometimes, I can't really believe it," Arthur muttered, taking a long swig of his own mead. "But then, I guess I wouldn't be the best one to be talking about such things..." He smirked to himself, looking to Lance over the top of his mug.

    At the mention of royalty, Arthur scoffed and very nearly choked on his mead. "Scum is putting it lightly, brother," he answered with a roll of his eyes. The mention of royalty had always been enough to send his blood boiling and yet he had no clue why, he never really had. Arthur kept it to himself for the most part, other than Lance who knew him better than probably anyone else.

    "I've not tried the sword, I saw no real reason to," Arthur answered finally with a shrug of his shoulders. "I mean, why would I? No man alive can move that sword! Anyone who tries it is foolish, don't you think?"
    October 20th, 2016 at 06:26pm
  • ashen knight;

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    "Aye," Lance leaned back in his chair, putting his arms behind his head, "I don't enjoy killing without reason but it is satisfying to put the wrongdoers in their graves." He shrugged, took another gulp of his drink and smirked, noticing the grin on Arthur's lips. "Of course, I'll show you them lands and we'll explore the rest together. And then I'll show you their women." He reached over and gave Arthur's shoulder a warm, hearty pat. "Aint no'one else like you out there, brother. Believe me."

    "It didn't start out on purpose," Lance grunted, shifting in his chair and setting his empty mug aside. "I was caught by some Imperials with a bunch of others, and they took me to a small city for execution. My head was on the block, I saw the axe rise. And then there was this… sound." He had lowered is eyelids in deep thought. "I remember looking past the man and there was this dragon. Black as soot. Huge. You have no idea." he shook his head again, in partial disbelief that he had witnessed such a thing. "The second time I saw one, it was smaller, but still huge. They sing and say in legends about their sizes, but its nothing like it. You see this huge dragon, and its mouth open, and fire coming out, and you're thinking - what the hell am I doing here? And the men are screaming, and some are missing limbs, and some are on fire. Arrows don't do shit. And your blade… it's like hacking a rock." Lance lowered his hand (for he had become a little active and started gesturing). "But I guess not everyone lived to tell they saw a dragon die." He chuckled lightly, "There are some plus sides."

    "No better here than there." He then mused and watched Arthur recover from nearly choking on the mead. "As for the sword, I think you should. For fun. Aye?" he tapped the table with another grin, "They go up looking so confident and their hopes fall when they come down, but hey - at least do it for fun. For the future, so when someone pulls it out, you can sit back and say 'Aye, i touched that sword once, i held its hilt in my hands'. Don't you think?"
    October 21st, 2016 at 01:53pm
  • castle.

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    At the mention of Lance being captured, Arthur straightened up, his eyes narrowing into thin slits as he glared at the mug in his hand. His knuckles had turned white as he did so, grinding his teeth together as he tried to force back the swell of anger that brewed inside of him. It wouldn't do anyone any good to start shouting over things that were in the past, it wasn't as if Arthur could change them. So why be so angry over them? With a shake of his head, Arthur glanced toward his best friend. "Promise me you won't go looking for another one. Nothing good will come of being around a dragon."

    There was nothing left to do in the day that he had planned so after tossing back the last bit of his mead, Arthur set his hands on the table and pushed himself to his feet. He turned toward Lance with an arrogant sort of smirk, raising an eyebrow. "You have to test the sword first then I will go. And then we can go and we can find some girls to nurse our egos back to a healthy size," he said with a laugh, giving Lance's shoulder a gentle push.

    Arthur turned toward the doorway, reaching to run a hand through his hair as he nodded toward it. "We ought to celebrate your return, after all. No time like the present, hm?"
    October 22nd, 2016 at 07:17am
  • ashen knight;

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    Lance smiled softly at Arthur as the other demanded he promise not to go looking for more dragons. Unfortunately for his friend, Lance wouldn’t promise that. Hell, even if he did, he’d instantly break it. He was… not the same anymore. Cheesy. But there was some thrill in absorbing a dragon’s soul and having a good time about killing one. The thrill that no army could bring. So instead of words to promise, he chuckled and returned the shake of his own head.

    Standing with Arthur, his mead long finished, Lance eyed him. “Is that a challenge? You know I can’t pass that up now. Even if I die on that rock trying to get it out.” He smirked back, for of course he wouldn’t put so much effort into pulling out a damn sword. Though something told him that it was no ordinary sword. No sword would stay so well placed in stone as that one would if it were a simple thing. He briefly thought of his mace, and reached for his side but found it was empty. For a moment, Lance felt his heart skip a beat but remembered he had taken it off prior to walking in and relaxed. “We ought to hurry. I’m sure plenty men would be thinking the same. Might not get any girls.” He laughed and turned away for a second, “Give me a moment.” He padded off to retrieve the mace – he couldn’t bear to lose such an artifact – and returned soon enough, the weapon strapped securely in under a cloak and hidden out of view. His other most prized possession sat at his lower back, also hidden neatly, and the third under his right wrist cuff, a decent sized gem of immeasurable strength and usefulness.

    “That we do,” he fell in step with Arthur and unwillingly and perhaps even subconsciously repeated the same motion of running his hand through his hair. A simple thing he had missed doing in time with his brother, unknowingly done. “The old tavern looked well-kept when I passed it. Is there an event? We could go there.” He took a breath and thought a little, “And perhaps hunt tomorrow. If you’re not too busy.”
    October 25th, 2016 at 01:35pm
  • castle.

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    Arthur began laughing as Lance spoke, he followed after his friend. After a moment, he slung an arm around Lance's shoulders and slapped the opposite one. "If I'm not busy? Brother, you are just finally back in town after months away doing stupidly dangerous shit you probably shouldn't have done so no, I'm not busy. We'll wake in a lass' bed in the morning and then we'll go hunting and maybe even if we're lucky, we'll find another girl worth our time by the end of the day."

    It wasn't long before they reached the main square where the sword was, sitting smack dab in the middle. Arthur slowed in his steps, an eerie feeling filling his stomach even as he followed Lance toward the end of the line up. It wasn't long, maybe two dozen people but now Arthur was on edge. His eyes narrowed a bit and he continuously looked around, trying to sort out what was the cause of the feeling.

    Even less time than Arthur had expected passed before they were at the front of the line. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Arthur glanced toward his long time friend. "Not backing down on me now, are you, Lance?" Arthur teased, nudging him forward with an elbow to the side. "Go on then."
    October 26th, 2016 at 04:05am
  • ashen knight;

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    "Busy fighting every scum out on the street, I meant." Lance returned, unable to hide his own grin. So contagious. He gave Arthur a good solid pat on the back, "You know, I'm starting to wonder how you haven't yet bedded all the girls in this city." He faked horror, "Oh, don't tell me you already did." He held the expression a second longer and then laughed, giving Arthur's shoulder a push. "You do need to get out of here."

    Approaching the crowds, Lance felt the tension and the excitement in the air and was initially quite overwhelmed by the number of onlookers. Not all who watched wanted to pull the sword it seemed, but many were keen on watching others fail. When he had passed earlier, he did not think the crowd this big, but there were men from faraway places, knights, soldiers, giants, smaller, thinner, and even the sickly. Quite the lot. They moved up while he looked around, and he scoffed when he heard his friend tease.

    "You'll owe if I pull it out." He winked and headed off to the sword. It was quite intense. The crowd was watching, all eyes on him, as he stepped up the rock and looked at the sword. What am I even doing here? he wondered. He rubbed his hands and wrapped them around the hilt of the sword, and as he did, he had a small feeling. No, not one of power or something. One of being watched. He glanced up without moving his head and caught sight of a girl in the crowd, a lovely face that stood out like the brightest of stars. Lovely brown curls. He felt his brows move together in a small frown. What?

    He made the tiniest effort to tug at the sword - why even try - and faked the rest - and stepped away with a careless sweep of his arm, and said with the most obvious tease in his voice, "I think it moved!" The crowd took a moment, then laughed, but the effect he was aiming for was seen by him on the face of the royal scums that were perched not far off, watching and waiting. Two things that watched with the intensity of the hawk. They looked startled, but seeing that the crowd knew it was a joke, and that Lance was already walking away from it - they sat back down. Lance chuckled, walking past Arthur and giving his a nudge and wink, jokingly muttering, "I loosened it for you."
    October 26th, 2016 at 05:17am
  • castle.

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    There was something in the pit of his stomach that Arthur couldn't quite place, even as he stood and watched Lance step toward the sword. The feeling intensified when his brother turned and walked away from the specimen that so many men had been after. The sword that was so thoroughly embedded into a piece of stone that supposedly, only the true born heir to the throne could pull free. There was no way that it could be Lance, Arthur thought and if it wasn't the big broad of a man he called brother, there was certainly no way that it was him. Just a meagre farm boy that really didn't mean much to anyone anymore, save for Lance and a few others back at the gym that he considered close enough to be a friend.

    Arthur took a deep breath and squared his shoulders as he stepped toward the sword, rubbing his hands on his pants to rid them of the sweat that had suddenly accumulated. Nervous was not something that he felt very often and it was easy enough to push away enough that he was able to confidently wrap a hand around the sword.

    Looking behind him, Arthur offered a brilliant smile as he made eye contact with Lance. He tensed and gave a yank on the sword. He wasn't expecting it to move in the slightest bit so when it did, Arthur stumbled to the side, his hand tightening around the sword on instinct alone. His eyes widened slightly as he took a step backward to pull it completely free. There was screaming, there was shouting, and there was celebrating all around.

    Arthur swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, dropping the sword to his side but he didn't let it fall. There was a certain sense of not wanting to allow it out of his grasp because he had pulled it free and it was his and it belonged to him. Arthur looked down to the sword in his hand and slowly back up to train his attention on the royals who were standing and he was sure if looks could kill, he would have been dead a thousand times over.

    Please, Lance. Brother, run. Now. Arthur's gaze didn't falter because he was hoping that by not acknowledging Lance that his friend wouldn't be dragged into whatever mess he had just managed to get himself into.
    October 28th, 2016 at 07:04am
  • ashen knight;

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    Lance didn't know what to expect but the feeling he suddenly got in the pit of his stomach as Arthur's hand wrapped around the blade was not the feeling he had been expecting. He suddenly felt the air stop moving, the wind cease, and while all around him there was life, he was alone looking on as the sword budged and drew out of stone. Impossible. But somehow, it seemed right. The sword was moving, Arthur - his Arthur - was pulling it out. And the way the sword gleamed in the light, shining and bright, was like an extension of Arthur's arm. Lance took a moment to collect himself and when he came to his senses enough to glance elsewhere he saw three things. He saw the lovely face of the girl in the crowd, watching Arthur (he blinked, and she was gone), and he saw the royalty stand and glance down with shock and surprise and horror - he even read anger, and he saw the movement just behind the crowd. Soldiers, knights, gathering in a circle, starting to close in. Lance shouldered his way through the crowd towards his brother. He would not leave him to the mercy of these savages.

    He didn't reach him in time, however. The guards formed a circle around Arthur, separating the 'king' from the crowd. There was chaos for a while, people were cheering or yelling or screaming. But the current King waved his hand and the crowd fell silent.

    "A fine day!" he said (and Lance snorted), "Doust our brilliant hero of this day have a name?"

    Lance watched the King look down upon Arthur, and the king continued to speak, and summoned Arthur for a 'celebration', a private discussion if you will. And the guards tightened their circle. Lance kept his gaze on Arthur now. A trap, brother, don't. But he saw the small nod of the King to his guards, saw their hands on their hilts, and knew Arthur had no choice. They would kill him on the spot should he refuse. Lance stepped back, as much as it pained him, and melted into the crowd. Arthur knew how to fight. At the least they would throw him in jail for now if this were a trap. He would rescue him.
    October 28th, 2016 at 02:58pm
  • castle.

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    Arthur wanted nothing more than to laugh at the King because the action of pulling the sword from stone, it gave him all of the answers he could have ever asked for. If he was the man that pulled the sword from stone, that meant he was the true heir to the throne. That meant his father was the last sitting king, that meant... that meant that everyone that he had ever lost in his life was because of the man sitting on the throne currently. His stomach twisted and he had to take a moment to allow his eyes to close so he could push away the anger that swelled inside of him.

    "Arthur," he called in response to the question that he had been asked. His eyes narrowed a bit as he tilted his head to the side. He was quiet for a long moment, listening intently to the sounds around him. The biggest relief was that he didn't hear the footsteps of his brother, thankful that Lance hadn't decided to be so damn reckless. Though Arthur couldn't have blamed Lance if he decided to join him on the stone because Arthur would have likely done the same should the roles have been reversed.

    Turning, Arthur made his way off of the stone and it wasn't more than a moment or two before he was led awa from the crowd, toward the castle where the so called meeting would take place.
    October 30th, 2016 at 02:51am
  • ashen knight;

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    Vortigern looked on this boy and he saw only his brother's face. It wasn't guilt that flooded his heart, it was anger and hate. How dare this child show up? How annoying. His men clearly hadn't done a good job of eliminating the residents. He watched as his nephew was taken away and sharply turned away from the crowd, walking into the halls, seething. Mercia was instantly upon him, suggesting things and Vortigern was having none of it. Mercia's word was important however, and it reached Vortigern's ears soon enough. "Where shall we take him?"

    "My castle. Away. Make him ride in on a horse. Make him think we care." Vortigern felt the smirk of hatred creeping in, and as they stepped outside to saddle him up, he pulled his gloves on and eyed Mercia. "Give him no reason to run, and nowhere if he tries." It would be done, of course, Mercia said. And he rode away.

    They sent a small group to 'assist' Arthur.They would put a wall of guards around him, protect this great hero, and they were to march him to the castle. If it were a parade for the people, it would be a shame to know that he would be found of treason. A cheat. Whoever. Oh yes, they would birth the lovely lies and sprinkle them upon the people, who would swallow it greedily in taste for drama, in taste for entertainment. And behead the kid. And then... And then that would be it. The sword would be out, maybe Vortigern himself could claim it, or put it away and lock it up so nobody would even dare try take it again. And Arthur could rot in the ground among many other treason-plotting traitors. Yes. Perfect. Make it seem harmless, have him come in willingly.

    Vortigern was there in his castle soon enough, and he waited in his office room, in his room with all the lovely plans and reception for important figures. Here would be Arthur's demise, he would be sure of it.
    October 30th, 2016 at 02:50am
  • castle.

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    There was a morbid sense of relief that flooded Arthur's being when he began to be escorted away. At least Lance hadn't gone and been reckless, hadn't demanded to barge in and thrown himself into the centre of the fight that he was sure brewing. Even if the people that led him were trying to lull him into a false sense of security. Atop a horse, Arthur was led toward the castle. Someone had offered to take the sword for safe travels to keep it out of the way, 'so that you do not have to be burdened, sir' and Arthur knew right then and there that it was the complete opposite of a 'talk' that he was being led to. More like his trial.

    The trip to the castle didn't take nearly as long as Arthur would have preferred and at no point did he have an opportunity to make a break for it. So he reluctantly played the good role, climbing down from the horse the moment that it came to a halt just within the castle's courtyard.

    Arthur's hand dropped to the hilt of his sword on instinct alone as he made his way toward the centre of it. His eyes were narrowed as he looked around ever so slowly. He turned in a slow circle, his steps calculated. When he did a full circle, his gaze came to rest on Vortigern - his uncle that he did not know and would likely not ever know. "I'm not fighting," Arthur called, his shoulders tensing. "I'm happy to talk, I am, but I am not fighting."
    November 1st, 2016 at 01:49am
  • ashen knight;

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    Vortigern looked up when the group entered, and smiled thinly. He watched Arthur approach, and – although he didn’t move from his spot – he turned in a way that made him seem to be the middle of it all – the one most important in this room. Naturally. “Well, that’s quite fine,” he replied, “After all, we are just talking, Arthur.” He glanced at the sword on Arthur’s hip, already there, already looking so homely. I hope you havent’ become too accustomed to it, he thought, and did everything in his power to not tense his jaw.

    “How did you find it? It looked relatively easy, when you pulled it out.” He turned, as if not interested, and took a sip of his wine, raising a brow at Arthur. “Let me be frank. You might not be asked to fight now, and here, but you are in quite the position, aren’t you?” He gestured to the sword, “What good is that if you haven’t used it? Have you ever been in a battle?” He didn’t let Arthur answer, “No, I didn’t think so. There are stories on the streets already, about you, the man who pulled sword from stone. Quite delightful.” He paused, and smirked, “It’s a shame you can’t live up to them though. You haven’t faced your great battles, you’re a hero with nothing to sing about. Say, I can give you that. You join my army, my ranks, and fight for me - all the glory you could ever have,” he gestured his arms out a little, as if to show the large amounts of glory that Arthur could gain by fighting and being loyal to him, King Vortigern, “And the more battles you win, the higher you can climb in the stories of your people. I’ll even offer you a place in my court, knight you too, maybe. As long as you remain loyal to me, of course, at my command – as any other soldier serving this kingdom. Hm? What do you think?”

    He inclined his head, Yeah, and then I’ll poison your first meal. Or have a fellow soldier stab your back in your first battle. If you even survive through that.
    November 1st, 2016 at 03:16am
  • castle.

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    "Well, I walked to the centre of the city I lived in and I walked up the stairs... I set my hand on the hilt and I pulled..." Arthur trailed off, a small frown forming on his lips. Was the king really as stupid as he was letting on? Couldn't possibly be and the thought alone was enough to spark a rough laugh from his lips. His face scrunched after as he listened to Vortigern continue to speak about what he could offer Arthur. So many promises and yet they seemed completely empty to Arthur. Enough that he shook his head, glancing down to the sword that rest at his hip. It was him, it was his legacy, it was his life. Not Vortigern's, not anyone else's but his and his alone. It made a certain sense of pride well inside his chest.

    Arthur cocked his head and looked up to Vortigern, his shoulders squared as he prepared for the outcome of what he was about to say. He knew, in no uncertain terms, that what he would say would likely not be received well. "Did you listen to what I said at all? Or did you think that because you are king that I would bow to whatever you ask of me?"

    "I do not intend on fighting because I was the man that pulled sword from stone. Not under you, not under anyone. This land has seen more than enough violence on behalf of unrighteous men who think that battling over land is the highest form of being a ruler," Arthur paused to clear his throat, his tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips.

    "I have plans for the evening that I need to ready myself for so am I free to go?"
    November 2nd, 2016 at 12:21am
  • ashen knight;

    ashen knight; (100)

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    Australia
    Vortigern pressed his lips together. Who was this man, trying to be a smart-ass, hey? "So, easy," he corrected the other. It was a simple word he was looking for. Not his story. At the rough laughter, Vortigern only suppressed a small roll of his eyes and set the goblet down. He tensed, his hand itching to lash out and cut Arthut'rs throat here and now. This boy, this stupid stupid boy though he was all mighty and powerful and above the king, the King, just because he pulled a sword from stone with a silly rumour? His head was in the skies and it was time to bring him down.

    "I gave you an option," he half-snapped, stressing 'option' though really there was none even if it was worded to look like he had allowed one. For a moment, he simply stood and glared at Arthur, and then sharply turned away with a jerk of his hand. "Leave." He didn't look back until he was sure Arthur's steps were out of his room, and only then did Vortigern make eye-contact with his right-hand man. "Lock him up," he nodded. And the message was passed on. He closed his eyes and was rewarded, for a few seconds later, roughly at the door of the castle, he heard a commotion as many guards swarmed where Arthur would be, to block off his exit pathways, to take him, seize him and throw him in a cell, and take the sword off him while they're at it.
    November 2nd, 2016 at 01:48am
  • castle.

    castle. (2000)

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    The moment that they began to close in on him, Arthur knew that what little hope he had had left that this wasn't a trick was gone. He let out a ragget sigh as he looked down to his feet for the briefest of moments before he unsheathed his sword. Here goes nothing. What little fight he could offer against armored men was stomped out. Arthur had managed to knock a few to the ground that was sure to leave a few hefty bruises but then there was a sword to his throat and Arthur dropped the sword to the ground. His hands slowly rose to above his head. Arms unceremoniouslyy jerked behind his back and his wrists tied together before he was all but dragged to the dungeons.

    Arthur was shoved into a cell. The sound of the lock being turned was seemingly louder than it should have been. He lay on the cold stone for what seemed like forever before he finally rolled onto his back, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the ceiling. What fuckin' shit luck. That's THEE last time I ever listen to Lance.
    November 2nd, 2016 at 06:17am
  • ashen knight;

    ashen knight; (100)

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    Australia
    [NO ITS NOT ARTHUR NO ITS NOT AND YOU KNOW IT Cute]

    While these shenanigans were happening Lance was safely away from the sight of trouble, he was busy having a good time at the brothel. A good time giving his other friend a thrashing to shake the alcohol out of him and the two prostitutes off of him. There was no time for celebrations and reunions, and he wondered why he even came here for this guy's help. But even as a drunk, this guy was a great fighter, loyal as anything, and one who forgot the job the very next morning - so nothing would ever spill. Lance was no fool to believe that Arthur had been taken away for an idle innocent chat. No. Something far more sinister most likely. And it didn't take long for him to find out Arthur had been attacked when the man didn't appear out from the castle after a long time. He highly doubted Arthur was settled in and sleeping in a royal bed. That wasn't Arthur.

    Once this friend was roused and assembled for a stealthy mission, Lance gathered another to watch their backs, a young chap who whistled so distinctly and so well one could mistake it either for an owl or a bird or a flute in a maiden's chambers and never know it was a lad not far from them. With these two in tow, Lance made his way to the castle and through the lovely smelling underground water disposals (he had gotten used to this) made his way through the castle and to the jail cells, kicking out a grate and hauling himself up into the corridor. Some pit dog fell on him, and sank its teeth into the leather padding around his arm, but he shook it off and sent it scuttling across the floor. There was no time to waste. There were many places to go, and many corridors, and not enough time to explore them all. He took a breath and breathed out a whisper, "Laas." It told him where to go. Or rather, the presence of other living beings helped him decide which cell was taken, which was not, and found he was conveniently close to the first prisoner. There he went, slipping a blade into the back of an unsuspecting guard and letting him silently drop to the floor to round the wall. He relaxed, seeing his friend's back. "Psst, Arthur." Thank the heavens for the luck. While the other friend stood guard in the hallway, Lance quickly worked on the lock with the key snagged from the dead guard, stepping aside to let the door open and for Arthur to get out, helping him out of the cuffs and passing the sword to him.

    "Let's go," he mouthed, turning to head back to the way they came, pausing to listen and to hear some guards approaching. They had to be quick.

    [we can have them fight a bit if you want :D]
    November 2nd, 2016 at 06:49am