Arthur Pendragon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
streetprince) wrote2020-07-30 09:15 pm
streetprince) wrote2020-07-30 09:15 pm
For the best wife
Arthur understood the point of going hunting with the nobles. He really did, and it had nothing to do with actually putting food on the table. It was all about showing off who had the best outfit, trying to discuss some politics and strike deals whilst pretending that was not at all what you were doing, and checking out who was currently on the market for a spouse.
Yes, he got it. Didn't make it any less boring. Didn't make it seem less offensive to a man who had grown up in poverty and fought for every scrap of anything he could call his own.
And then there was the matter of his lady wife, who he saw much less of than expected but who was supremely distracting whenever she did come near. It felt ridiculous that he didn't know her better, and equal parts annoying and amusing that she seemed pretty intent on keeping things on a very "polite acquaintances" level.
Did it make him a prick that he sort of enjoyed the challenge in that? Oh, for sure. The trick was making her see that he wasn't just a prick.
They'd get there, eventually.
His eyes rested on the distant figure of his queen for most of the day as various voices droned on in his ears and he completely ignored the fact that he was supposed to be pretending to be looking for a boar or something.
Then, it started raining, and he gave up on pretending that he wanted to be there at all.
He dismounted from his horse and threw the reins at the nearest person. Might have been a squire, might have been an important noble. He didn't know.
"Be a pal and hold that for me."
It didn't take terribly long for him to reach Guinevere's mount and get on up behind her, wrapping his arms around her to claim the reins.
"Hello, darling."
Yes, he got it. Didn't make it any less boring. Didn't make it seem less offensive to a man who had grown up in poverty and fought for every scrap of anything he could call his own.
And then there was the matter of his lady wife, who he saw much less of than expected but who was supremely distracting whenever she did come near. It felt ridiculous that he didn't know her better, and equal parts annoying and amusing that she seemed pretty intent on keeping things on a very "polite acquaintances" level.
Did it make him a prick that he sort of enjoyed the challenge in that? Oh, for sure. The trick was making her see that he wasn't just a prick.
They'd get there, eventually.
His eyes rested on the distant figure of his queen for most of the day as various voices droned on in his ears and he completely ignored the fact that he was supposed to be pretending to be looking for a boar or something.
Then, it started raining, and he gave up on pretending that he wanted to be there at all.
He dismounted from his horse and threw the reins at the nearest person. Might have been a squire, might have been an important noble. He didn't know.
"Be a pal and hold that for me."
It didn't take terribly long for him to reach Guinevere's mount and get on up behind her, wrapping his arms around her to claim the reins.
"Hello, darling."
no subject
But today, despite the thread of an oncoming storm, she didn't protest too much when the visiting Marquis suggested a hunt to "rouse the blood and stir the spirit", but rather announced that she'd be joining the party, and no one in the King's court considered it prudent to object. Although the hunt was a secondary objective; Guinevere didn't care a whit if they even brought back a rabbit - the ride a-horseback was her primary concern.
True to England's weather, the storm broke not long after the column reached the deeper forest, and naturally the lesser-constituted courtiers began clucking like hens all a-feather, and the Queen had just about made up her mind to drive her heels into Caviler's flanks and set out on her own, when a peculiar new arrival suddenly vaulted up behind her, reaching around to make a bit for her horse's reins.
"--Arthur!" Guinevere scolded, automatically calming the big grey horse beneath them, who apparently took exception to the sudden added weight. But there was the hint of a laugh in her tone. "What are you doing?"
no subject
That little hint of amusement in her tone was all the encouragement Arthur needed to spur the horse onward into the forest.
If it decided to act up, Gwen could handle it after all.
And no, he wasn't certain of what she'd been thinking, it was an educated guess. But he was fairly confident he'd seen a restlessness similar to his own in her while he'd been watching her.
"I know a place."
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Apparently her husband had an adventure in mind, if his antics were any indication. And rather than protest, since doing so would just land them back with those insufferable nobles, the Queen opted to just let him run with it, inquiring back over a shoulder a little tartly, "Oh? And where might that be, pray tell?"
Hopefully it was somewhere with a roof or a ceiling, because the rain showed no signs of ceasing any time soon.
no subject
He was hoping the rain would make them a bit harder to find immediately, though Bedevere knew most of the places where one might be tempted to take shelter around these parts.
Still, perhaps the knight would let his king have a little while alone with his wife before tracking them back down.
One could hope, at least.
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"Arthur!" she finally had to shout, taking the reins back and slowing the horse from its wild flight. "Where are we going?" The wind wasn't so much of a problem as the lack of visibility, and the horse's annoyed stamping; Caviler had better sense than to be out in a thunderstorm.
"Theatrics are all well and good, Sire, but we are getting sort of drenched, in case you hadn't noticed?"
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It was a responsibility he carried with pride, and he would willingly die for any of his subjects, but all the same it felt good to just be a man for a bit.
"Almost there now, there's an old hideout from the rebellion here."
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But they finally emerged out of the dense trees, although the brief clearing gave the rain that much more opportunity to drench them both further. Guinevere let Arthur swing her down from the saddle, then hurried under the rock face as he brought the horse inside.
At least her heavy cloak had mostly spared her dress, but still, being even mildly doused was uncomfortable, at best. "Might there be something leftover for a fire? We'll need one, before we both come down with the croup."
no subject
He relieved the horse of its saddle and set it down on the cave floor, removing his own cloak before ambling further into the cave in search of firewood.
"Take care of the horse, I'll see about the fire."
Thankfully there was some old stashes left to build a fire with, and so he got to work on doing just that.
no subject
Leaving the gelding to his food and water, the Queen of England then drew her wet cloak around her, taking what warmth from its interior that she could, and ventured forth in search of her husband.
The cave was only barely lit, and the shadows within were high, but she kept one hand on the stone wall as she went, and moved slowly, as not to take a tumble or bump into anything on the way. "Arthur?! Arthur??"
no subject
"What?"
no subject
"--Arthur!" Guinevere placed a hand to her chest, scowling up at him. "Don't scare me like that!"
not prodding for a tag I just wanted to add a bit since I still can!
He took the one of her hands not busy at her chest, and placed a very careful kiss on the back of it.
"I apologise, my Lady. Please forgive me."
While his tone was soft, it was still plenty obvious that he was doing his best not to grin like a mischievous imp.
no worries c:
Nevertheless, the apology and the soft gesture did well to calm her racing heart, only to have it kickstart for another reason entirely, but the Queen still favored her King with a faint scowl. "You know better than to creep up on a lady, you cretin."
But she took a deep breath, and touched his cheek fondly, despite her irritation. "Please tell me you got a fire going. I'm cold in these sopping clothes."