Faint and Weary

(I am still angry as fuck over losing this post, I'm sorry if this sucks)

Arthur sighed as he sat in his cell, trying to get as comfortable as one could hope to get in the dampened cells beneath the ground. He leaned against the wall, telling himself he could ignore the water that seemed to be just too damn thick on the walls. To the point he grumbled and rolled away from it, figuring her could adjust. But there was straightening out for him because when he rolled away from the wall and tried to, he was just a touch too tall. Just enough that laying was too uncomfortable. Muttering to himself, he straightened as he set his back against the bars of the cage, deciding that was the best that he was going to get. He had slept in worse places, this was nothing special. It was damn near poetic in a sense - he had gone to jail a fair few times for causing problems in the streets but now he was in a royal cell beneath the castle! He could damn near check it off a list of experiences that not everyone got to experience.

Sleep had escaped him for the most part and when he did manage to fall unconscious, he would be startled awake by one of the other prisoners moving on a guard making their rounds through the hall. Which was why he initially paid no mind to the sounds of footsteps behind him. He simply tilted his head to the side and tried to ignore them, hoping he would be able to get a bit more sleep before the day began. He could only imagine what the next day had in store for him, all he knew was that it wouldn't be good.

The sound of Lance's whisper was nearly missed because Arthur had been flirting with unconsciousness. He groaned, only to look up and see that he wasn't imagining things. A smirk developed on his features as he pushed to his feet, eager to get out of here before things got any worse. THere was no time to thank ro say anything for that matter because as his fingers wrapped around the hilt of the sword, they were back to back as the guards closed in on them.

Arthur kept his back to Lance's and the accompanying friend. The fight was quick and Arthur's arm was nicked sometime during the fight but he hadn't paid any mind to it. They had no time to waste and the moment the last guard fell, Arthur was spinning and they were all but running back through the halls to their exit.

[]

The escape was quick, the few guards in their way were nothing. Against Lance and Arthur, they had little troubles. They joined their friend at the escape route, and all ran out via the tunnels, scrambling out over rocks at the exit. The young lad Lance had picked up looked startled, but calmed and announced there had been no passerbys or guards. Lance thanked him and tipped him a few coin and sent the young boy on his merry way. He did the same for the third companion of theirs, and watched him go in the opposite direction until it was just him and Arthur standing in the night. The air was nice and fresh, cool against his skin after the fight and the stuffy tunnels. Lance glanced at the sword on Arthur's hip. Was it worth it? Sure. He then noticed the bleeding, but said nothing of it. There had been worse cuts, and his own arm was injured too. They just needed to get out of here first, before they sat down to nurse their injuries.

"We don't have much time," he muttered to Arthur, "We gotta get out stuff and leg it. It won't be long they find you missing." Which meant to go back to their living quarters (ones Lance hadn't even spent the damned night in) and get their stuff, leg it out of city before the gates were closed. He didn't say this to Arthur, knowing the other would already know and understand what to do. So he started down some shady street, to keep off the main road and out of sight. "There's a small tavern not far from the city walls, we can stop there and get a few horses. I doubt they remember every passing face." He threw over his shoulder.

Arthur, as appealing as the idea of returning to their rooms and gathering their belongings sounded, the idea didn't quite sit right with him. He knew that there was little time for error, little time to be stalled by anything because should the Vortigern learn of Arthur's escape, there would be no where for him to go if the gates were closed before their could escape. "We have to be quick," Arthur affirmed, his steps following Lance quickly. He very nearly considered running but decided against it because it would certainly draw attention that the pair didn't need.

The trip to the gym and the surrounding rooms didn't take as long as Arthur would have thought and yet, all at the same time, it seemed to drag on for the rest of the night. There was a desire to move as quickly as he could through the streets but he did his best to keep the feeling of urgency under control. Shoving a few pairs of trousers into his bag and reaching for his water container, he slung both over his shoulder before heading back out to wait by the front door for Lance.

Lance appeared shortly after and Arthur wasted no time in giving him a small nod before stepping through the front door. "Should we stay in the tavern overnight and head out in the morning or should we not risk it?"

He was hesitant, hoping Arthur wouldn't say no, hoping the other would come along. To leave behind his mace would be quite the impossibility. He had worked hard to acquire it, and he would not throw it away. Let alone face the consequences of doing so from the maker of the mace. He shuddered at the idea. Slipping through the alleyways, they arrived at their housing, and he didn't spent long to pack, grabbing the one little bag that had all his things when he arrived and the mace, and returned to the front door. Without a word, they walked out and Lance took a moment to think about their options. "It would be risky to stay, surely they would search it. But it would also be helpful to stop by and listen to the whispers. If the King knows of our escape, then we'll hear it."

Lance peered down one street and once sure it was clear, he continued along it hurriedly. It didn't take them long to reach the gate, but Lance stopped and put his hand out, motioning for Arthur to stop also. He gestured towards the gates. "Too many guards." It wasn't abnormal to have guards at a gate, but it was night time, and there wen're enough people to use as cover to slip by unseen. In fact, apart from the guards, the gates, and them two, there was nobody out and about. Lance glanced at his friend, "Is that underground water tunnel still open?" He asked, remembering the passageway they had used as a while ago to slip out from the city and back in when the gates were closed for the middle of the night.

Arthur had strapped the bag to his back and prepared himself for the ordeal that they were sure to go through over the next few hours. Even before they reached the gate, he hadn't been under the impression that they would be able to slip through. It was far too late, there would be no one to conceal them. Eyeing the few guards along the gate, Arthur's hand slipped to the hilt of the sword that hung by his side. Could they? Surely they were both skilled enough but he thought it would only cause more problems than it was worth. God forbid someone spot a dead guard, the alert level of the city would sky rocket. They certainly couldn't afford that, not right now.

Flashing a wicked grin, Arthur shrugged his shoulders at the suggestion Lance made. "I would think so but I guess there's only one way to find out, huh?" Tightening his grip around the hilt of his sword, Arthur turned and led the way back a few blocks so that they could circle around and come right up to the entrance of the water tunnel. He cursed under his breath and knelt to tighten the laces on his boots before he glanced back to Lance with a raised eyebrow.

"We'll have to stop for the night so that our boots can dry," he commented as they made their way into the tunnel, wishing now more than ever that he had something to light the way with.

Matching the smirk, Lance followed Arthur through the city streets until they stopped outside the entrance of the tunnel. He glanced around and made sure nobody was there, and then followed his way inside too. "If the tavern has an attic we can find refuge there. They may check, or they may not. Let's hope the latter." He snorted softly. Hope. What a petty thing to rely on. He waded through the shallow water, keeping his hand on one wall, but finding it difficult to see. A torch would be too bright, if only... He put his hand to the mace by his side. Perhaps this would be enough? He unhooked it and, once sure that Arthur was quite the distance away, he uttered a word, so quiet it was a breath out of his lips and nothing more, "Laas." The darkness around him dimmed all the more, but there were little red lights in his vision - the largest of which was Arthur (these lights alone only Lance saw, as the souls they were of living beings). Lance blindly fumbled by the wall to the nearest little light and sprang forward, the mace sailing through the pitch black to strike a rat that was hiding in the shadows. The rat squeaked sharply and died, the air shimmering slightly around it. He picked the creature up and ran it down the side of the mace, letting the blood spread. The mace seemed to drink it up, and a second later it glowed green. Lance lifted it, illuminating the small tunnel around them.

"There. We have light. It's not much, so we won't be easily spotted." He lowered the mace a little and thrust it forward, lighting up the walls around in a faint green light, carefully stepping through the waters as he followed the tunnel along. In this manner, he proceeded until he found - by memory - the trail and lead them towards the exit of the tunnel, where the water dribbled out onto the rocks below, where they could escape, and avoid city guards for a good distance, and make for the tavern.

Arthur hadn't picked up on the magic that Lance performed, completely oblivious until he turned and there was suddenly light illuminating just a small bit of space around them. His eyes widened as he eyed the mace in Lance's hand, his mouth opening and closing several times before he finally decided to just accept what he saw. There was nothing to say. He likely owed his life to Lance, several times over in fact, so to question such a simple thing would not benefit either of them in anyway. Besides, if Lance decided that Arthur needed to know, he was sure that the other man wouldn't hesitate to tell him. They had always been open with each other. From the first day that they had met, it had seemed like they were two peas in a pod, ready to conquer the world together.

Stepping out of the tunnel and finally taking a breath of fresh air, Arthur bit back a groan as he began to look around. It had been awhile since they had to use the tunnel out of necessity and it seemed that after a moment of deliberation, that everything was unchanged. There was nothing to worry about once they reached the tavern. If they were even the slightest bit lucky. Which... Arthur wasn't going to be betting on any time soon.

His steps slowed to a halt as the tavern came into view. Arthur cleared his throat, looking over to Lance with a raised eyebrow. "Cross your fingers, brother. I think we're going to need all the luck that we can get to make it through the night."

[reading on a computer screen is so difficult omg ]

The moment they were out of the stuffy cramped space that seemed to loom over Lance, closing in with every step, Lance lowered the mace and reattached it back to his hip. The moment his hand came off, the light ebbed away and they were surrounded by darkness again. The stars were the only thing above them alongside the half-moon that cast its cold light onto the endless grassy plains around them. Lance took a breath too, a moment of hesitation before following Arthur down the side of the small cliff and towards the tavern.

"I think our luck was used up back when they didn't behead you straight away," Lance replied with a small smirk, sizing up the distance between them and the tavern in case anyone spotted them and they had to run. When they were sure nobody was around them and started to the house, Lance walked briskly and didn't speak until his back was pressed against the side of the house and he was quiet, listening for any footsteps. All he heard coming from the inside of the tavern though was the laughter and clinking of tankards. "So we just walk in? Buy a drink and rent a room?" Lance glanced to his friend, running over their plan, "Attic if they have one."

Arthur couldn't help the snort that sounded from his lips as he shrugged. Lance was probably right, whatever luck they had built up was diminished the moment that he hadn't been beheaded in the square. Sure, the act would have soured the people toward Vortigern but it wasn't as if there would have been anyone able to stop the man. If the man who could pull sword from stone was killed, Arthur doubted the people would be brave enough to rise up against the tyrant that ruled them. Sure, Arthur had always thought the king to be a sour man but recent events cemented the fact for him.

Only shrugging his shoulders, Arthur flashed a grin as he glanced toward Lance. "I guess that's our only bet. Cross your fingers and... your scales?" Arthur couldn't help the dig at his friend, turning away from Lance before he could see the reaction it managed to garner.

Walking into the tavern, Arthur squared his shoulders as he made his way through the crowd, focused solely on getting to the barkeep. When the woman finally greeted him, Arthur slipped out a few coins from his pocket and slid them across the counter. "A room, in the attic preferably." He inclined his chin, his eyes focused on the woman in front of him. "Please."

Lance rolled his eyes and withheld the groan at the words, instead mustering a grunt. He followed close behind Arthur, too keeping his gaze fixed forward when they entered, avoiding eye contact with anyone to avoid any sort of confrontation or curious look. And yet he saw everything. And among these people he saw a familiar head of hair, one he did not understand why he recognized so easily. It slipped out of his sight - some big burly man stood in the middle and had a banter with someone else - but Lance was certain it was the same girl. Strange? He did not know. Maybe she was a farm girl and was hanging out in the yard to watch the stone and sword ordeal. Though it put him a little on edge, and a little more wary.

The woman seemed to take her time with deciding on whether to give them the attic or not, but eventually Lance heard her agree and the jingling of keys. Lance reached out and placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder, slowing him down and catching up himself. "Where will we eat?" he asked, "In our rooms or down here? I could keep watch here, but your face will be known soon. It is best you stay out." He kept his voice low and was successful, for the tavern was loud and rowdy, and a scuffle broke out in the corner to draw everyone's attention over and away from the two new visitors. Lance did not mention the girl to Arthur though, deciding it was just his paranoia and over-wary nature that he had recently developed.

Ainsley had had no real way of knowing whether Lance would be successful in rescuing Arthur. She had hoped, sure, but she knew all too well how cruel Vortigern could be and so she hadn't bothered to wait around and see. She could have offered her aide but then, Ambriosine would not have approved of such a thing. At the end of the day, she served the woman and no one else so after eyeing the separated friends for a moment longer, she had disappeared from the square.

It was to her relief that hours later, sitting in a tavern just outside of the city gates, that she looked up to catch sight of the pair. Arthur (the only one she knew) and Lancelot were safe. For now. Until they started their journey, if they were smart enough to find the path that would ultimately lead to Ambriosine. Her eyes locked with Lance's and she bolted, disappearing into the bodies mixing together in the tavern. No. There was no need to socialize, not yet.

---

Arthur was relieved as the keys were handed over to him and he was quick to slip a few more coins over to her. "If anyone comes asking, we are not here," he paused, his fingers hovering over another pair of coins. He placed an ordr for both a meal and a drink for himself and Lance before sliding the last of the coins over to her. He turned back to his friend, his shoulders sagging a bit as he looked around the tavern. "Most have already seen me," he paused, nodding in the barkeep's direction.

"Once I have food and ale, I'll head upstairs," Arthur paused, a smirk settling onto his features. "But you have to promise to not get yourself into too much trouble," he murmured. "Not without me here to enjoy it right alongside you."

Lancelot had to admit Arthur was right. Most had probably already seen their faces, mostly Arthur's but since nobody threw a fit or moved to stop them or fight them (or maybe even praise) he decided it was alright to linger a little longer, and listen to the whispers and rumors. It wasn't the barkeeper only, Lance could be certain. One more glance around and Lance found them a table to the side, leading them over. He sat down against the wall so Arthur would face him and keep his face mostly out of view while Lance could observe the scene in case something goes awry.

He turned away from the background and looked to his friend, offering him a small grin, "I'll call you down if things get exciting." He nodded to the drinks and food as they were placed in front of them and once the tender was gone he turned back to his friend. "I never thought it'd get out like this." Lance took a gulp of his mead and stabbed the fork into the pork with an amused grunt. "I didn't even get one wink of sleep back home."

Arthur sat down with a grunt, dropping into the chair with Lancelot opposite him. He flashed a wicked grin, giving a nod of his head as the barkeep approached with their food and drink. He leaned back to allow her plenty of room to set their things down, thanking her quietly before he turned back to the food in front of him. He smirked, leaning forward and digging into the food without another worry to be given. It had been a long time since he had had such a good meal, that he forgot just how good a stew could be. The food he normally tossed together in the early mornings or late at night had been a sandwich with scraps from earlier meals because the cook was gone for the day and he was left to his own devices.

His eyes lifted after a few hearty bites and he smirked, shrugging his shoulders. "Just think of it as another adventure that we're going on," Arthur answered his friend back, a small nod of his head. "'Sides, I think it's only fair. You went on your own adventure, I should get my own chance. Right?"

Arthur finished off his food fairly quickly, letting out a groan as he leaned back, rubbing his stomach. "Are you going to send me to my room now?" He asked with a pout, raising an eyebrow.

@ varkatzas.

With his bread in his mouth, Lance chuckled, lifting his hands up in play-surrender. "The adventure is all yours. If you weren't my friend, I wouldn't even be here. I'd have no part in this." And it was true. This was a wild adventure, a mess they got into by chance (or rather, by Lance's dumb suggestions) and nothing short of dangerous. Sure, he had his fill while out and about fighting dragons but politics rarely came into play there. His adventures were getting stuck in a cave or being attacked by a group of bandits or who-knows-what.

"Send you to your room? I could." He smirked and rubbed the back of his head, "But then I would have to sit here alone." Looking back over the tavern, he was content to find that nobody had started a riot, no fights were broken out and no looks were sent their way. All was going relatively smoothly. In fact, way too smoothly. He leaned forward, keeping his voice low, "What now? Where do we go? Any ideas?"

They could make for the forest to the east of them, or the mountains to the west. Or the plains in between the two, and head along the river till they find their next city or settlement to get provisions - though a risky business, for the river was right beside a common trading route and that meant being spotted. Surely by now the guards would have found Arthur's cell empty and raised all the alarms. While Lance hoped that was not the case, they had to be realistic too. The forest provided dense shelter but he was not sure how long it went on for - he had never reached its other end and all the hunters stopped where the forest had a small cliff and never went further. The mountains offered shelter too but were cold and brutal, and he was not sure what even lay beyond them. The North was the city, and unless they wanted to take a round trip around the walls in close proximity to all the guards and routes and roads, it was not an option. It seemed the forest at this moment was viable, though Lance decided to let Arthur make that decision.

Arthur dropped his near empty mug down onto the table, running his fingers through his hair before absentmindedly scratching at the scruff along his chin. He looked up to Lance, tilting his head to the side. His eyes narrowed a bit in consideration, trying to figure out where he thought the best path was. His gut told him to head to the mountains but the mountains would be harsh and uncaring of who they were, it would be harsh to go into them with the intention of surviving without any real supplies to get them through the harsh winter. The river would prove the quickest path to the next city but it was by far the riskiest. Arthur and Lance could survive the weather in the mountains if they really tried but he doubted there would be any even remote hope of survival should Vortigern's guards capture them. And Lance would be dead, all because of him. Something that Arthur was not about to allow, not if he had any say in the matter.

"The forest," Arthur spoke almost before he realized that they did have to go with the option. The river was far too risky and the mountains were far too cold. There was no way that they would survive, not without some sort of miracle. And Arthur thought that they had likely used up all of their miracles already, having pulled the sword out and managing to escape prison shortly after without any real hindrance.

Arthur set his hands down on the edge of the table, pushing himself to his feet as he glanced toward the stairs. "Tomorrow is going to be a long day, we should get to sleep if we want a chance at making it through the day." Arthur was grinning now as he looked over to Lance. "Come on, brother. There's adventures awaiting us but for the night, I think we earned a rest." With that, he turned and began to head toward the stairs, intent on heading upstairs to sleep.

@ varkatzas.

Arthur thought for a long time, or at least - it seemed so to Lance. He watched his friend's brows move and twitch lightly, every little muscle in his cheek move as he would consider options that were not voiced out loud but ones Lance was sure he could guess. With every scratch, breath and sigh, Lance felt like leaning forward as if he would hear a tiny voice utter to him the innermost thought of Arthur - but refrained from doing so. Instead, he used the time to watch the tavern - look for any suspicious people or behaviours and, subconsciously, for the brown-haired girl. Where would she be? Who was she? How wrong things went, he could have guessed that if all went well- if Arthur did not pull that sword from stone, they would be in a tavern too but not heading to bed to sleep, but rather to spend the night with a girl or two.

How different indeed, though - for Arthur's fate - Lance would not change a thing. He had his adventures and now Arthur's story began. Alas, in this tavern nothing happened of interest. Not yet.

"The forest it is," Lance agreed and stood also, following Arthur a little while towards the stairs before stopping and glancing over his shoulder once again, feeling a pair of eyes on him. It made him uneasy but he could not find the cause. Lance moved his swaying hand to one side, brushing it past the mace by his side. The feel of the weapon's metal calmed him and he turned back around, walking up the stairs to their attic, to lay down in the scratchy bed.

[Sorry fam, life got to me ;/ ]

Arthur had been prepared to wake to the rays of sun shining through the horribly done roof that lay above their heads. He hadn't been prepared to be startled awake by a small hand gripping his forearm and shaking him like his damn life depended on it. But just what he thought would happen, of course it didn't happen. Arthur really should have known better. He jerked awake, hsi hand moving to the hilt of the sword that lay at his head. His eyes narrowed, trying to adjust to the darkness. Had Arthur not been able to see, he opted to stay quiet when the hooded figure head a finger to his lips. He watched wordlessly as the same happened to his brother, his grip only tightening around the hilt of the sword should something happen to Lance.

He held up a hand to silence whatever Lance was about to say, having no doubt that his friend would want to demand to know what the hell was going on. Because even Arthur didn't have an answer to that question.

"The Kings Guard are coming. You must leave. Now," the voice whispered, ushering them to stand quickly. The figure moved soundlessly over to the window, peering out of it before turning back to the two men. "There are two horses tethered outside. They will be missed but useful for you two. So," the figured motioned them toward the stairs. "Grab them and flee as far as you can!"

Arthur looked at the figure like it was crazy but a feeling it the pit of his stomach told him to do as he was told. He chanced a look over to Lance. Shrugging his shoulders as if to question his thoughts, Arthur hesitated a moment longer before making his way down the stairs, his pulse beginning to race as they headed outside.

Lance had been dreaming about something nice, something he wouldn't recall when later he tried, but it was all quickly pushed away and the dream interrupted when someone grabbed his hand. His eyes shot open and he jerked up into a sitting position, grasping at the nearest weapon he had and scrambling to create space between him and whatever woke him up. The dagger found itself between him and the figure, and Lance opened his mouth to demand answers but at the gesture he saw from Arthur, Lance shut his mouth. If Arthur was calm then there was no reason to stab this intruder. He watched as she urged them to stand and rushed about the room to the window, speaking of guards and fleeing.

"Stairs?" Lance echoed quietly, "Wouldn't-" he was cut off when Arthur started towards the door. Lance faltered for a second longer, then with a grunt and distrusting glance at the figure, picked up his bag and weapons and followed Arthur out quietly, ears alert for any noise and yet hearing only the pounding blood in his ears. Why was he so... worried? Nothing he and Arthur couldn't deal with. A couple of guards? Bah. Perhaps it wasn't fear, but the thrill, and the thrill would cloud his judgement. So it had to be tamed. Lance took a breath and willed himself to calm, grasping the reins of the horse (it neighed almost too loudly) and throwing himself on, grabbing tighter as it reared, but quickly came under control and Lance let it trot in an impatient circle, casting the figure one last suspicious look. "Who are you?"
The identity might provide useful more than a simple 'why'.

Arthur did not want to linger. He wanted to turn and make a run for it in the very first moment after Lance had gained his bearings. He didn't find himself caring who the hooded figure was, he simply was grateful that they had been warned. Had someone recognized them and alerted Vortigern to where they were? Surely, if the King was positive that they resided above the little, old tavern, the guards would be bountiful. Arthur trusted both himself and his brother but he was not all that sure whether they would be able to fight off an entire army all on their own. And with no knowledge of who their mysterious companion was or how well they could fight (or if they even would), Arthur didn't particularly care to find out.

Ready to leave the moment Arthur had tossed himself onto the back of the horse, he was almost annoyed by Lance asking the person who they were. Did it matter? So long as they were helping them, Arthur didn't think so.

At the question, Ainsley gave the tiniest of smiles before shaking her head. "A friend. Now go!"

Arthur needed no more urging from anyone, including their 'friend'. He pulled on the horse's reins, turning him around. Urging the horse forward, Arthur kept the horse quite slow until they could no longer see the tavern - until they were alone and a lot less likely to be spotted. Spurring the horse forward, Arthur leaned down as it broke into a gallop.