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@squire-quill
Quill.
he/him | 18+ blog, minors DNI | NSFW RP with over 21s only | here be knight kink
(character is early 20s, admin is mid 30s)
Submission comes easier to some than to others.
Switch. Will sub for you angrily. You'd better work for it. Character is trans masc.
OOC blog: @knightly-observer
(continued from here, because the sheer length of that thread is starting to get on my swede)
Peg's playfulness subsides quickly when the physician enters the room. He doesn't speak, but looks down at himself, assessing. Yeah, the jerkin will have to come off. That's okay. He gets himself out of it and sets it aside, then loosens his shirt strings as far as they'll go and slips the collar down on one side to expose the injured shoulder.
It's obvious right away that it's somewhat swollen, and a purple bruise is rising on the swelling. Peg looks down at it, and represses a sigh.
"I think it looks worse than it is," he mumbles. "It's a bit sore, but it doesn't feel too bad, really."
@squire-quill
Quill's eyes widen at the sight of it. "Fuck, Peg, you've just been - sitting there with it like that the whole time? Fucking-" He stops himself from saying fucking George! because they're still pretending that Bec doesn't know the reason he'd introduced his fist repeatedly to George's face.
"It's not broken, right? He's going to be okay?" He looks at the physician worriedly.
@basicbascinet
Bec is no strange to bad injuries, but she still winces. "Peg, you should have told me it was this bad. We shouldn't have been wasting time talking with you in this state."
The medic places their bag at the nightstand and approaches as Quill interrogates him. "Give me a moment."
He gently takes a hold of Peg's hand while the other feels around the shoulder, directing the arm to move this way and that to test the range of motion. "Hmn. Not broken." He mumbles. "Inflammation around the socket... But not luxated. A minor misalignment. Hold on, child, I will make sure the joint is properly placed. This may be uncomfortable."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg makes a face. "I'm not a child. I'm eighteen. And it's not that bad... or if it is, I didn't realise..." He looks from Bec to Quill, absorbing their concern. It's a little bit frightening, honestly. He swallows and looks down at the shoulder again, then addresses the medic cautiously. "...is it bad?"
@squire-quill
"I'm sure it's fine," Quill says reassuringly. "You heard him, he says it's minor. Maybe you're right, it just - looks bad." He reaches to squeeze Peg's other hand.
@basicbascinet
The medic giggles good-naturedly. "And I'm seventy. Even Sir Bec is a child to me."
Bec doesn't seem bothered, giving a shrug. "It's good to feel young sometimes. Doesn't happen often anymore."
The old man takes Bec's distracting comment to carefully manipulate the joint, ensuring the bones are in the right place. It's not as bad as Peg could have anticipated. "All good, my boy. I'd like to immobilize your shoulder to make sure it heals well, then in a few days' time we can talk about gentle exercise to ensure it returns to the full range of motion." He digs around his bag for bandages and a small brown vial." I will leave you with a tincture for the pain and swelling as well. Five drops every six hours. You can dilute it in juice or sweetened milk, as it's awfully bitter."
Bec breathes out a sigh of relief while the medic silently directs Peg so he may wrap the shoulder. "Thank you, Master Galen."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
"Immobilise it?" Peg looks dubious. When the medic reaches for Peg's sleeve to help lever his arm out of it gently, Peg recoils, snatching his other hand out of Quill's and clutching at the front of his shirt. "Wait. Is the wrapping really necessary? Can't we just see if it gets better by itself?"
@squire-quill
"... it's going to end up moving if it's not immobilised," Quill says, eyes narrowing slightly. Why does he not want the shirt off? Not that he wouldn't have done exactly the same thing in Peg's shoes, but for a very different reason. "Do you want it to heal wrong?"
@basicbascinet
"Your friend is correct, young man. I will make sure it's not too restrictive, with good rest you will be back training in no time." The old man doesn't insist and waits patiently for a sign from Peg that he may continue. "We don't want that shoulder to heal poorly and become more subject to injury."
Bec watches the situation with her hands on her hips. "...Peg. Is there something else Master Galen should see?" her voice is firm and authoritative, but not meant to intimidate. She's concerned.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg regards Ser Bec miserably.
The trap has snapped shut. For a moment, he is furious with Quill for having been in the right place at the right time this evening. If he hadn't come across Peg and George, then Peg could have gone home and gotten yelled at for not having made dinner and then nursed his injury in the privacy of his attic, and everything would be normal.
Except... his injury would have probably been worse. So Peg likely wouldn't have been able to get up into the attic. And then...
And then.
Peg feels very tired.
He doesn't say anything. But slowly, he lets go of the shirt, and puts his hand back in Quill's.
He lowers his eyes, and waits for the medic to continue.
@squire-quill
Quill doesn't say anything. Just squeezes Peg's hand and waits for the physician to do his work. He's not sure what he's expecting, but he has a bad, bad feeling.
@basicbascinet
The old man tilts his head worriedly and makes soothing noises as he moves the shirt to continue his work.
Bec is tense. They're glad other people are there, because they have a bad feeling that they will have to leave Peg to pay Ser Derek a visit very soon.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg won't speak, and he won't let go of Quill, so the whole of his shirt ends up bunched over their clasped hands.
Peg's left side is all over one big, yellow, fading bruise. It starts at his lowest ribs and disappears into the waist of his breeches without tapering.
His back doesn't look pretty either, but the thin white lines of scarring there are old, and curiously neat. There are about twenty of them, mostly around two or three inches long. At the small of his back, on the right side, larger scars form the initials JBH.
Peg keeps his eyes on his knees, and waits.
@squire-quill
Quill's breath catches. The bruise is what catches his attention first. Then the scars, the full horror of it sinking in slowly. JBH.
"... Ser Joanna," he realises aloud, his voice emerging a little hoarsely. "His - previous knight." He holds tightly onto Peg's hand. She's lucky she's dead.
Sir Derek isn't, though. At least, not yet.
@basicbascinet
Bec grows still as a statute, then their right fist clenches and starts to shake. They need to get a hold of their temper. They should comfort the squire, reassure him all that is over. But gods above they are just so *pissed*, like they haven't been since Bloodhaven, and they worry that if it boils over it will just terrify the poor boy.
"Quill. Look after him for me." Their voice is chilling. "There is something I need to do right now." The knight stomps out without another word.
"...Young man" the medic says gently. "Is there anything else I should see? I will increase the dose of pain medication from five to seven drops. I don't have anything for scars that old, but I can procure an oil that will help them fade better over time."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg shakes his head. "That's it," he whispers. He is working very hard to avoid thinking about where Ser Bec is going. He knows, but he is trying not to know.
He's wondered, sometimes, how bad the scars are now. If they're still obvious. It's been a while since anyone has been in a position to tell him. He's gotten real good at getting up to all sorts with his shirt and jerkin still on.
Judging by Quill's reaction, and Master Galen's, the scars must look pretty bad.
But...
"I can't afford any fancy oils," he says quietly, still looking down. "It's alright. Thanks."
@squire-quill
"He'll take the oil," Quill says stubbornly, still holding onto his hand. "Thank you."
It was taking all he had not to follow Bec right out and demand to be involved in the inevitable beatdown in progress. But Peg probably needs him here more, right? And he's holding his hand.
"So he just needs to use the drops and rest his arm, and then he'll be alright? Physically."
@basicbascinet
"Don't worry about that. I shall settle the expenses with Sir Bec--- whenever they come back." He rearranges his lenses. "And yes, with rest and pain management, he should make a full recovery. At your age, the body is quite apt at repairing itself. But you must be patient with it." He makes a guiding gesture and begins to wrap the shoulder.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
They are going to give him the oil. They are all but fighting to be the one who pays for it. It's too much.
Peg closes his eyes and takes a slow breath in through his nose, beating down half a dozen feelings at once.
I am not going to start crying, AGAIN. I am not.
And he doesn't.
But he doesn't say thank you, either. He wants to. But if he tries to speak right now, he's going to liquefy into a snotty mess.
@squire-quill
Quill nods. "I'll make sure he behaves," he says, squeezing Peg's hand gently. "He's a troublemaker, this time. Gotta keep your eyes on him. Thanks for the help." He traces small, soothing circles with his thumb on the hand that he's holding.
Peg squeezes Quill's hand slightly. He can't bring himself to look at him, but he's glad he's here.
By the time Master Galen has finished bandaging his arm against his chest, Peg has recovered himself enough to produce a thin "Thank you."
"You're welcome," the old physician says softly. "Now: medicine. And rest. I'll be along again in a couple of days."
Peg shifts uncomfortably as the door closes behind Galen with a quiet click. It's odd, having one arm strapped to him like this. Well, at least it's his left arm.
"Can you - help me put my shirt back on?" he asks Quill, feeling even smaller than usual, and very exposed.
Quill nods. He pulls the shirt around Peg's shoulders, helping him get his good arm through before doing the buttons for him. "... you hungry? I can probably dig up some food from somewhere. I doubt Ser Bec would mind."
He's not really sure what to do from here. Someone smarter would know what to say. But someone smarter isn't here. Peg just has him.
Peg shakes his head. "Thanks. Maybe later. I don't think I could eat right now."
He scribbles his fingers slowly along the blanket until his knuckles are grazing Quill's knee. The warmth is comforting, but Peg's insides are still turning slowly.
He looks up at Quill at last, tired and afraid.
"Ser Bec isn't going to let me go back, is she," he says quietly. It's not a question.
"If she does, I'll honestly think less of her for it," Quill says. After a moment, he carefully wraps an arm around Peg, mindful of both his arm and his side. "... it shouldn't have been happening. Not with either of them. You deserved better, Peg. I'm - sorry I didn't notice sooner."
He hadn't known him when he was serving Ser Joanna, of course. But he should have noticed something.
"S'not your fault," Peg says, and uses his good arm to scooch in a little closer. "I didn't want you to notice, did I. I didn't want..." He shrugs awkwardly. "...all this. Strangers poking and prodding, and... and thinking they understand, when they don't."
He sighs, and closes his eyes. "You all think he's some sort of villain in a mummery, now. And Ser Bec won't let him have another squire. And I don't know what he's going to do. Who's going to look after him, after this?"
He drops his head to Quill's shoulder, disconsolate.
"Why would that make it okay?" Quill says, turning his head to look at him. "Why would this be something we need to understand in order to decide how to respond to it? Unless you're saying that you wanted to be left bruised and battered like this, there's nothing to understand about his motivation. He hurt you, Peg. Whatever else is going on with him, he was in a position where he was meant to be looking after you, and he didn't. He hurt you. He failed." He studies Peg. "What would you think, if our positions were reversed? If I was stubbornly defending someone who was hurting me against my will?"
(continued from here, because the sheer length of that thread is starting to get on my swede)
Peg's playfulness subsides quickly when the physician enters the room. He doesn't speak, but looks down at himself, assessing. Yeah, the jerkin will have to come off. That's okay. He gets himself out of it and sets it aside, then loosens his shirt strings as far as they'll go and slips the collar down on one side to expose the injured shoulder.
It's obvious right away that it's somewhat swollen, and a purple bruise is rising on the swelling. Peg looks down at it, and represses a sigh.
"I think it looks worse than it is," he mumbles. "It's a bit sore, but it doesn't feel too bad, really."
@squire-quill
Quill's eyes widen at the sight of it. "Fuck, Peg, you've just been - sitting there with it like that the whole time? Fucking-" He stops himself from saying fucking George! because they're still pretending that Bec doesn't know the reason he'd introduced his fist repeatedly to George's face.
"It's not broken, right? He's going to be okay?" He looks at the physician worriedly.
@basicbascinet
Bec is no strange to bad injuries, but she still winces. "Peg, you should have told me it was this bad. We shouldn't have been wasting time talking with you in this state."
The medic places their bag at the nightstand and approaches as Quill interrogates him. "Give me a moment."
He gently takes a hold of Peg's hand while the other feels around the shoulder, directing the arm to move this way and that to test the range of motion. "Hmn. Not broken." He mumbles. "Inflammation around the socket... But not luxated. A minor misalignment. Hold on, child, I will make sure the joint is properly placed. This may be uncomfortable."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg makes a face. "I'm not a child. I'm eighteen. And it's not that bad... or if it is, I didn't realise..." He looks from Bec to Quill, absorbing their concern. It's a little bit frightening, honestly. He swallows and looks down at the shoulder again, then addresses the medic cautiously. "...is it bad?"
@squire-quill
"I'm sure it's fine," Quill says reassuringly. "You heard him, he says it's minor. Maybe you're right, it just - looks bad." He reaches to squeeze Peg's other hand.
@basicbascinet
The medic giggles good-naturedly. "And I'm seventy. Even Sir Bec is a child to me."
Bec doesn't seem bothered, giving a shrug. "It's good to feel young sometimes. Doesn't happen often anymore."
The old man takes Bec's distracting comment to carefully manipulate the joint, ensuring the bones are in the right place. It's not as bad as Peg could have anticipated. "All good, my boy. I'd like to immobilize your shoulder to make sure it heals well, then in a few days' time we can talk about gentle exercise to ensure it returns to the full range of motion." He digs around his bag for bandages and a small brown vial." I will leave you with a tincture for the pain and swelling as well. Five drops every six hours. You can dilute it in juice or sweetened milk, as it's awfully bitter."
Bec breathes out a sigh of relief while the medic silently directs Peg so he may wrap the shoulder. "Thank you, Master Galen."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
"Immobilise it?" Peg looks dubious. When the medic reaches for Peg's sleeve to help lever his arm out of it gently, Peg recoils, snatching his other hand out of Quill's and clutching at the front of his shirt. "Wait. Is the wrapping really necessary? Can't we just see if it gets better by itself?"
@squire-quill
"... it's going to end up moving if it's not immobilised," Quill says, eyes narrowing slightly. Why does he not want the shirt off? Not that he wouldn't have done exactly the same thing in Peg's shoes, but for a very different reason. "Do you want it to heal wrong?"
@basicbascinet
"Your friend is correct, young man. I will make sure it's not too restrictive, with good rest you will be back training in no time." The old man doesn't insist and waits patiently for a sign from Peg that he may continue. "We don't want that shoulder to heal poorly and become more subject to injury."
Bec watches the situation with her hands on her hips. "...Peg. Is there something else Master Galen should see?" her voice is firm and authoritative, but not meant to intimidate. She's concerned.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg regards Ser Bec miserably.
The trap has snapped shut. For a moment, he is furious with Quill for having been in the right place at the right time this evening. If he hadn't come across Peg and George, then Peg could have gone home and gotten yelled at for not having made dinner and then nursed his injury in the privacy of his attic, and everything would be normal.
Except... his injury would have probably been worse. So Peg likely wouldn't have been able to get up into the attic. And then...
And then.
Peg feels very tired.
He doesn't say anything. But slowly, he lets go of the shirt, and puts his hand back in Quill's.
He lowers his eyes, and waits for the medic to continue.
@squire-quill
Quill doesn't say anything. Just squeezes Peg's hand and waits for the physician to do his work. He's not sure what he's expecting, but he has a bad, bad feeling.
@basicbascinet
The old man tilts his head worriedly and makes soothing noises as he moves the shirt to continue his work.
Bec is tense. They're glad other people are there, because they have a bad feeling that they will have to leave Peg to pay Ser Derek a visit very soon.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg won't speak, and he won't let go of Quill, so the whole of his shirt ends up bunched over their clasped hands.
Peg's left side is all over one big, yellow, fading bruise. It starts at his lowest ribs and disappears into the waist of his breeches without tapering.
His back doesn't look pretty either, but the thin white lines of scarring there are old, and curiously neat. There are about twenty of them, mostly around two or three inches long. At the small of his back, on the right side, larger scars form the initials JBH.
Peg keeps his eyes on his knees, and waits.
@squire-quill
Quill's breath catches. The bruise is what catches his attention first. Then the scars, the full horror of it sinking in slowly. JBH.
"... Ser Joanna," he realises aloud, his voice emerging a little hoarsely. "His - previous knight." He holds tightly onto Peg's hand. She's lucky she's dead.
Sir Derek isn't, though. At least, not yet.
@basicbascinet
Bec grows still as a statute, then their right fist clenches and starts to shake. They need to get a hold of their temper. They should comfort the squire, reassure him all that is over. But gods above they are just so *pissed*, like they haven't been since Bloodhaven, and they worry that if it boils over it will just terrify the poor boy.
"Quill. Look after him for me." Their voice is chilling. "There is something I need to do right now." The knight stomps out without another word.
"...Young man" the medic says gently. "Is there anything else I should see? I will increase the dose of pain medication from five to seven drops. I don't have anything for scars that old, but I can procure an oil that will help them fade better over time."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg shakes his head. "That's it," he whispers. He is working very hard to avoid thinking about where Ser Bec is going. He knows, but he is trying not to know.
He's wondered, sometimes, how bad the scars are now. If they're still obvious. It's been a while since anyone has been in a position to tell him. He's gotten real good at getting up to all sorts with his shirt and jerkin still on.
Judging by Quill's reaction, and Master Galen's, the scars must look pretty bad.
But...
"I can't afford any fancy oils," he says quietly, still looking down. "It's alright. Thanks."
@squire-quill
"He'll take the oil," Quill says stubbornly, still holding onto his hand. "Thank you."
It was taking all he had not to follow Bec right out and demand to be involved in the inevitable beatdown in progress. But Peg probably needs him here more, right? And he's holding his hand.
"So he just needs to use the drops and rest his arm, and then he'll be alright? Physically."
@basicbascinet
"Don't worry about that. I shall settle the expenses with Sir Bec--- whenever they come back." He rearranges his lenses. "And yes, with rest and pain management, he should make a full recovery. At your age, the body is quite apt at repairing itself. But you must be patient with it." He makes a guiding gesture and begins to wrap the shoulder.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
They are going to give him the oil. They are all but fighting to be the one who pays for it. It's too much.
Peg closes his eyes and takes a slow breath in through his nose, beating down half a dozen feelings at once.
I am not going to start crying, AGAIN. I am not.
And he doesn't.
But he doesn't say thank you, either. He wants to. But if he tries to speak right now, he's going to liquefy into a snotty mess.
@squire-quill
Quill nods. "I'll make sure he behaves," he says, squeezing Peg's hand gently. "He's a troublemaker, this time. Gotta keep your eyes on him. Thanks for the help." He traces small, soothing circles with his thumb on the hand that he's holding.
Peg squeezes Quill's hand slightly. He can't bring himself to look at him, but he's glad he's here.
By the time Master Galen has finished bandaging his arm against his chest, Peg has recovered himself enough to produce a thin "Thank you."
"You're welcome," the old physician says softly. "Now: medicine. And rest. I'll be along again in a couple of days."
Peg shifts uncomfortably as the door closes behind Galen with a quiet click. It's odd, having one arm strapped to him like this. Well, at least it's his left arm.
"Can you - help me put my shirt back on?" he asks Quill, feeling even smaller than usual, and very exposed.
Quill nods. He pulls the shirt around Peg's shoulders, helping him get his good arm through before doing the buttons for him. "... you hungry? I can probably dig up some food from somewhere. I doubt Ser Bec would mind."
He's not really sure what to do from here. Someone smarter would know what to say. But someone smarter isn't here. Peg just has him.
Peg shakes his head. "Thanks. Maybe later. I don't think I could eat right now."
He scribbles his fingers slowly along the blanket until his knuckles are grazing Quill's knee. The warmth is comforting, but Peg's insides are still turning slowly.
He looks up at Quill at last, tired and afraid.
"Ser Bec isn't going to let me go back, is she," he says quietly. It's not a question.
"If she does, I'll honestly think less of her for it," Quill says. After a moment, he carefully wraps an arm around Peg, mindful of both his arm and his side. "... it shouldn't have been happening. Not with either of them. You deserved better, Peg. I'm - sorry I didn't notice sooner."
He hadn't known him when he was serving Ser Joanna, of course. But he should have noticed something.
(continued from here, because the sheer length of that thread is starting to get on my swede)
Peg's playfulness subsides quickly when the physician enters the room. He doesn't speak, but looks down at himself, assessing. Yeah, the jerkin will have to come off. That's okay. He gets himself out of it and sets it aside, then loosens his shirt strings as far as they'll go and slips the collar down on one side to expose the injured shoulder.
It's obvious right away that it's somewhat swollen, and a purple bruise is rising on the swelling. Peg looks down at it, and represses a sigh.
"I think it looks worse than it is," he mumbles. "It's a bit sore, but it doesn't feel too bad, really."
@squire-quill
Quill's eyes widen at the sight of it. "Fuck, Peg, you've just been - sitting there with it like that the whole time? Fucking-" He stops himself from saying fucking George! because they're still pretending that Bec doesn't know the reason he'd introduced his fist repeatedly to George's face.
"It's not broken, right? He's going to be okay?" He looks at the physician worriedly.
@basicbascinet
Bec is no strange to bad injuries, but she still winces. "Peg, you should have told me it was this bad. We shouldn't have been wasting time talking with you in this state."
The medic places their bag at the nightstand and approaches as Quill interrogates him. "Give me a moment."
He gently takes a hold of Peg's hand while the other feels around the shoulder, directing the arm to move this way and that to test the range of motion. "Hmn. Not broken." He mumbles. "Inflammation around the socket... But not luxated. A minor misalignment. Hold on, child, I will make sure the joint is properly placed. This may be uncomfortable."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg makes a face. "I'm not a child. I'm eighteen. And it's not that bad... or if it is, I didn't realise..." He looks from Bec to Quill, absorbing their concern. It's a little bit frightening, honestly. He swallows and looks down at the shoulder again, then addresses the medic cautiously. "...is it bad?"
@squire-quill
"I'm sure it's fine," Quill says reassuringly. "You heard him, he says it's minor. Maybe you're right, it just - looks bad." He reaches to squeeze Peg's other hand.
@basicbascinet
The medic giggles good-naturedly. "And I'm seventy. Even Sir Bec is a child to me."
Bec doesn't seem bothered, giving a shrug. "It's good to feel young sometimes. Doesn't happen often anymore."
The old man takes Bec's distracting comment to carefully manipulate the joint, ensuring the bones are in the right place. It's not as bad as Peg could have anticipated. "All good, my boy. I'd like to immobilize your shoulder to make sure it heals well, then in a few days' time we can talk about gentle exercise to ensure it returns to the full range of motion." He digs around his bag for bandages and a small brown vial." I will leave you with a tincture for the pain and swelling as well. Five drops every six hours. You can dilute it in juice or sweetened milk, as it's awfully bitter."
Bec breathes out a sigh of relief while the medic silently directs Peg so he may wrap the shoulder. "Thank you, Master Galen."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
"Immobilise it?" Peg looks dubious. When the medic reaches for Peg's sleeve to help lever his arm out of it gently, Peg recoils, snatching his other hand out of Quill's and clutching at the front of his shirt. "Wait. Is the wrapping really necessary? Can't we just see if it gets better by itself?"
@squire-quill
"... it's going to end up moving if it's not immobilised," Quill says, eyes narrowing slightly. Why does he not want the shirt off? Not that he wouldn't have done exactly the same thing in Peg's shoes, but for a very different reason. "Do you want it to heal wrong?"
@basicbascinet
"Your friend is correct, young man. I will make sure it's not too restrictive, with good rest you will be back training in no time." The old man doesn't insist and waits patiently for a sign from Peg that he may continue. "We don't want that shoulder to heal poorly and become more subject to injury."
Bec watches the situation with her hands on her hips. "...Peg. Is there something else Master Galen should see?" her voice is firm and authoritative, but not meant to intimidate. She's concerned.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg regards Ser Bec miserably.
The trap has snapped shut. For a moment, he is furious with Quill for having been in the right place at the right time this evening. If he hadn't come across Peg and George, then Peg could have gone home and gotten yelled at for not having made dinner and then nursed his injury in the privacy of his attic, and everything would be normal.
Except... his injury would have probably been worse. So Peg likely wouldn't have been able to get up into the attic. And then...
And then.
Peg feels very tired.
He doesn't say anything. But slowly, he lets go of the shirt, and puts his hand back in Quill's.
He lowers his eyes, and waits for the medic to continue.
@squire-quill
Quill doesn't say anything. Just squeezes Peg's hand and waits for the physician to do his work. He's not sure what he's expecting, but he has a bad, bad feeling.
@basicbascinet
The old man tilts his head worriedly and makes soothing noises as he moves the shirt to continue his work.
Bec is tense. They're glad other people are there, because they have a bad feeling that they will have to leave Peg to pay Ser Derek a visit very soon.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg won't speak, and he won't let go of Quill, so the whole of his shirt ends up bunched over their clasped hands.
Peg's left side is all over one big, yellow, fading bruise. It starts at his lowest ribs and disappears into the waist of his breeches without tapering.
His back doesn't look pretty either, but the thin white lines of scarring there are old, and curiously neat. There are about twenty of them, mostly around two or three inches long. At the small of his back, on the right side, larger scars form the initials JBH.
Peg keeps his eyes on his knees, and waits.
@squire-quill
Quill's breath catches. The bruise is what catches his attention first. Then the scars, the full horror of it sinking in slowly. JBH.
"... Ser Joanna," he realises aloud, his voice emerging a little hoarsely. "His - previous knight." He holds tightly onto Peg's hand. She's lucky she's dead.
Sir Derek isn't, though. At least, not yet.
@basicbascinet
Bec grows still as a statute, then their right fist clenches and starts to shake. They need to get a hold of their temper. They should comfort the squire, reassure him all that is over. But gods above they are just so *pissed*, like they haven't been since Bloodhaven, and they worry that if it boils over it will just terrify the poor boy.
"Quill. Look after him for me." Their voice is chilling. "There is something I need to do right now." The knight stomps out without another word.
"...Young man" the medic says gently. "Is there anything else I should see? I will increase the dose of pain medication from five to seven drops. I don't have anything for scars that old, but I can procure an oil that will help them fade better over time."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg shakes his head. "That's it," he whispers. He is working very hard to avoid thinking about where Ser Bec is going. He knows, but he is trying not to know.
He's wondered, sometimes, how bad the scars are now. If they're still obvious. It's been a while since anyone has been in a position to tell him. He's gotten real good at getting up to all sorts with his shirt and jerkin still on.
Judging by Quill's reaction, and Master Galen's, the scars must look pretty bad.
But...
"I can't afford any fancy oils," he says quietly, still looking down. "It's alright. Thanks."
@squire-quill
"He'll take the oil," Quill says stubbornly, still holding onto his hand. "Thank you."
It was taking all he had not to follow Bec right out and demand to be involved in the inevitable beatdown in progress. But Peg probably needs him here more, right? And he's holding his hand.
"So he just needs to use the drops and rest his arm, and then he'll be alright? Physically."
@basicbascinet
"Don't worry about that. I shall settle the expenses with Sir Bec--- whenever they come back." He rearranges his lenses. "And yes, with rest and pain management, he should make a full recovery. At your age, the body is quite apt at repairing itself. But you must be patient with it." He makes a guiding gesture and begins to wrap the shoulder.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
They are going to give him the oil. They are all but fighting to be the one who pays for it. It's too much.
Peg closes his eyes and takes a slow breath in through his nose, beating down half a dozen feelings at once.
I am not going to start crying, AGAIN. I am not.
And he doesn't.
But he doesn't say thank you, either. He wants to. But if he tries to speak right now, he's going to liquefy into a snotty mess.
@squire-quill
Quill nods. "I'll make sure he behaves," he says, squeezing Peg's hand gently. "He's a troublemaker, this time. Gotta keep your eyes on him. Thanks for the help." He traces small, soothing circles with his thumb on the hand that he's holding.
Peg squeezes Quill's hand slightly. He can't bring himself to look at him, but he's glad he's here.
By the time Master Galen has finished bandaging his arm against his chest, Peg has recovered himself enough to produce a thin "Thank you."
"You're welcome," the old physician says softly. "Now: medicine. And rest. I'll be along again in a couple of days."
Peg shifts uncomfortably as the door closes behind Galen with a quiet click. It's odd, having one arm strapped to him like this. Well, at least it's his left arm.
"Can you - help me put my shirt back on?" he asks Quill, feeling even smaller than usual, and very exposed.
Quill nods. He pulls the shirt around Peg's shoulders, helping him get his good arm through before doing the buttons for him. "... you hungry? I can probably dig up some food from somewhere. I doubt Ser Bec would mind."
He's not really sure what to do from here. Someone smarter would know what to say. But someone smarter isn't here. Peg just has him.
(continued from here, because the sheer length of that thread is starting to get on my swede)
Peg's playfulness subsides quickly when the physician enters the room. He doesn't speak, but looks down at himself, assessing. Yeah, the jerkin will have to come off. That's okay. He gets himself out of it and sets it aside, then loosens his shirt strings as far as they'll go and slips the collar down on one side to expose the injured shoulder.
It's obvious right away that it's somewhat swollen, and a purple bruise is rising on the swelling. Peg looks down at it, and represses a sigh.
"I think it looks worse than it is," he mumbles. "It's a bit sore, but it doesn't feel too bad, really."
@squire-quill
Quill's eyes widen at the sight of it. "Fuck, Peg, you've just been - sitting there with it like that the whole time? Fucking-" He stops himself from saying fucking George! because they're still pretending that Bec doesn't know the reason he'd introduced his fist repeatedly to George's face.
"It's not broken, right? He's going to be okay?" He looks at the physician worriedly.
@basicbascinet
Bec is no strange to bad injuries, but she still winces. "Peg, you should have told me it was this bad. We shouldn't have been wasting time talking with you in this state."
The medic places their bag at the nightstand and approaches as Quill interrogates him. "Give me a moment."
He gently takes a hold of Peg's hand while the other feels around the shoulder, directing the arm to move this way and that to test the range of motion. "Hmn. Not broken." He mumbles. "Inflammation around the socket... But not luxated. A minor misalignment. Hold on, child, I will make sure the joint is properly placed. This may be uncomfortable."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg makes a face. "I'm not a child. I'm eighteen. And it's not that bad... or if it is, I didn't realise..." He looks from Bec to Quill, absorbing their concern. It's a little bit frightening, honestly. He swallows and looks down at the shoulder again, then addresses the medic cautiously. "...is it bad?"
@squire-quill
"I'm sure it's fine," Quill says reassuringly. "You heard him, he says it's minor. Maybe you're right, it just - looks bad." He reaches to squeeze Peg's other hand.
@basicbascinet
The medic giggles good-naturedly. "And I'm seventy. Even Sir Bec is a child to me."
Bec doesn't seem bothered, giving a shrug. "It's good to feel young sometimes. Doesn't happen often anymore."
The old man takes Bec's distracting comment to carefully manipulate the joint, ensuring the bones are in the right place. It's not as bad as Peg could have anticipated. "All good, my boy. I'd like to immobilize your shoulder to make sure it heals well, then in a few days' time we can talk about gentle exercise to ensure it returns to the full range of motion." He digs around his bag for bandages and a small brown vial." I will leave you with a tincture for the pain and swelling as well. Five drops every six hours. You can dilute it in juice or sweetened milk, as it's awfully bitter."
Bec breathes out a sigh of relief while the medic silently directs Peg so he may wrap the shoulder. "Thank you, Master Galen."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
"Immobilise it?" Peg looks dubious. When the medic reaches for Peg's sleeve to help lever his arm out of it gently, Peg recoils, snatching his other hand out of Quill's and clutching at the front of his shirt. "Wait. Is the wrapping really necessary? Can't we just see if it gets better by itself?"
@squire-quill
"... it's going to end up moving if it's not immobilised," Quill says, eyes narrowing slightly. Why does he not want the shirt off? Not that he wouldn't have done exactly the same thing in Peg's shoes, but for a very different reason. "Do you want it to heal wrong?"
@basicbascinet
"Your friend is correct, young man. I will make sure it's not too restrictive, with good rest you will be back training in no time." The old man doesn't insist and waits patiently for a sign from Peg that he may continue. "We don't want that shoulder to heal poorly and become more subject to injury."
Bec watches the situation with her hands on her hips. "...Peg. Is there something else Master Galen should see?" her voice is firm and authoritative, but not meant to intimidate. She's concerned.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg regards Ser Bec miserably.
The trap has snapped shut. For a moment, he is furious with Quill for having been in the right place at the right time this evening. If he hadn't come across Peg and George, then Peg could have gone home and gotten yelled at for not having made dinner and then nursed his injury in the privacy of his attic, and everything would be normal.
Except... his injury would have probably been worse. So Peg likely wouldn't have been able to get up into the attic. And then...
And then.
Peg feels very tired.
He doesn't say anything. But slowly, he lets go of the shirt, and puts his hand back in Quill's.
He lowers his eyes, and waits for the medic to continue.
@squire-quill
Quill doesn't say anything. Just squeezes Peg's hand and waits for the physician to do his work. He's not sure what he's expecting, but he has a bad, bad feeling.
@basicbascinet
The old man tilts his head worriedly and makes soothing noises as he moves the shirt to continue his work.
Bec is tense. They're glad other people are there, because they have a bad feeling that they will have to leave Peg to pay Ser Derek a visit very soon.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg won't speak, and he won't let go of Quill, so the whole of his shirt ends up bunched over their clasped hands.
Peg's left side is all over one big, yellow, fading bruise. It starts at his lowest ribs and disappears into the waist of his breeches without tapering.
His back doesn't look pretty either, but the thin white lines of scarring there are old, and curiously neat. There are about twenty of them, mostly around two or three inches long. At the small of his back, on the right side, larger scars form the initials JBH.
Peg keeps his eyes on his knees, and waits.
@squire-quill
Quill's breath catches. The bruise is what catches his attention first. Then the scars, the full horror of it sinking in slowly. JBH.
"... Ser Joanna," he realises aloud, his voice emerging a little hoarsely. "His - previous knight." He holds tightly onto Peg's hand. She's lucky she's dead.
Sir Derek isn't, though. At least, not yet.
@basicbascinet
Bec grows still as a statute, then their right fist clenches and starts to shake. They need to get a hold of their temper. They should comfort the squire, reassure him all that is over. But gods above they are just so *pissed*, like they haven't been since Bloodhaven, and they worry that if it boils over it will just terrify the poor boy.
"Quill. Look after him for me." Their voice is chilling. "There is something I need to do right now." The knight stomps out without another word.
"...Young man" the medic says gently. "Is there anything else I should see? I will increase the dose of pain medication from five to seven drops. I don't have anything for scars that old, but I can procure an oil that will help them fade better over time."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg shakes his head. "That's it," he whispers. He is working very hard to avoid thinking about where Ser Bec is going. He knows, but he is trying not to know.
He's wondered, sometimes, how bad the scars are now. If they're still obvious. It's been a while since anyone has been in a position to tell him. He's gotten real good at getting up to all sorts with his shirt and jerkin still on.
Judging by Quill's reaction, and Master Galen's, the scars must look pretty bad.
But...
"I can't afford any fancy oils," he says quietly, still looking down. "It's alright. Thanks."
@squire-quill
"He'll take the oil," Quill says stubbornly, still holding onto his hand. "Thank you."
It was taking all he had not to follow Bec right out and demand to be involved in the inevitable beatdown in progress. But Peg probably needs him here more, right? And he's holding his hand.
"So he just needs to use the drops and rest his arm, and then he'll be alright? Physically."
@basicbascinet
"Don't worry about that. I shall settle the expenses with Sir Bec--- whenever they come back." He rearranges his lenses. "And yes, with rest and pain management, he should make a full recovery. At your age, the body is quite apt at repairing itself. But you must be patient with it." He makes a guiding gesture and begins to wrap the shoulder.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
They are going to give him the oil. They are all but fighting to be the one who pays for it. It's too much.
Peg closes his eyes and takes a slow breath in through his nose, beating down half a dozen feelings at once.
I am not going to start crying, AGAIN. I am not.
And he doesn't.
But he doesn't say thank you, either. He wants to. But if he tries to speak right now, he's going to liquefy into a snotty mess.
@squire-quill
Quill nods. "I'll make sure he behaves," he says, squeezing Peg's hand gently. "He's a troublemaker, this time. Gotta keep your eyes on him. Thanks for the help." He traces small, soothing circles with his thumb on the hand that he's holding.
(continued from here, because the sheer length of that thread is starting to get on my swede)
Peg's playfulness subsides quickly when the physician enters the room. He doesn't speak, but looks down at himself, assessing. Yeah, the jerkin will have to come off. That's okay. He gets himself out of it and sets it aside, then loosens his shirt strings as far as they'll go and slips the collar down on one side to expose the injured shoulder.
It's obvious right away that it's somewhat swollen, and a purple bruise is rising on the swelling. Peg looks down at it, and represses a sigh.
"I think it looks worse than it is," he mumbles. "It's a bit sore, but it doesn't feel too bad, really."
@squire-quill
Quill's eyes widen at the sight of it. "Fuck, Peg, you've just been - sitting there with it like that the whole time? Fucking-" He stops himself from saying fucking George! because they're still pretending that Bec doesn't know the reason he'd introduced his fist repeatedly to George's face.
"It's not broken, right? He's going to be okay?" He looks at the physician worriedly.
@basicbascinet
Bec is no strange to bad injuries, but she still winces. "Peg, you should have told me it was this bad. We shouldn't have been wasting time talking with you in this state."
The medic places their bag at the nightstand and approaches as Quill interrogates him. "Give me a moment."
He gently takes a hold of Peg's hand while the other feels around the shoulder, directing the arm to move this way and that to test the range of motion. "Hmn. Not broken." He mumbles. "Inflammation around the socket... But not luxated. A minor misalignment. Hold on, child, I will make sure the joint is properly placed. This may be uncomfortable."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg makes a face. "I'm not a child. I'm eighteen. And it's not that bad... or if it is, I didn't realise..." He looks from Bec to Quill, absorbing their concern. It's a little bit frightening, honestly. He swallows and looks down at the shoulder again, then addresses the medic cautiously. "...is it bad?"
@squire-quill
"I'm sure it's fine," Quill says reassuringly. "You heard him, he says it's minor. Maybe you're right, it just - looks bad." He reaches to squeeze Peg's other hand.
@basicbascinet
The medic giggles good-naturedly. "And I'm seventy. Even Sir Bec is a child to me."
Bec doesn't seem bothered, giving a shrug. "It's good to feel young sometimes. Doesn't happen often anymore."
The old man takes Bec's distracting comment to carefully manipulate the joint, ensuring the bones are in the right place. It's not as bad as Peg could have anticipated. "All good, my boy. I'd like to immobilize your shoulder to make sure it heals well, then in a few days' time we can talk about gentle exercise to ensure it returns to the full range of motion." He digs around his bag for bandages and a small brown vial." I will leave you with a tincture for the pain and swelling as well. Five drops every six hours. You can dilute it in juice or sweetened milk, as it's awfully bitter."
Bec breathes out a sigh of relief while the medic silently directs Peg so he may wrap the shoulder. "Thank you, Master Galen."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
"Immobilise it?" Peg looks dubious. When the medic reaches for Peg's sleeve to help lever his arm out of it gently, Peg recoils, snatching his other hand out of Quill's and clutching at the front of his shirt. "Wait. Is the wrapping really necessary? Can't we just see if it gets better by itself?"
@squire-quill
"... it's going to end up moving if it's not immobilised," Quill says, eyes narrowing slightly. Why does he not want the shirt off? Not that he wouldn't have done exactly the same thing in Peg's shoes, but for a very different reason. "Do you want it to heal wrong?"
@basicbascinet
"Your friend is correct, young man. I will make sure it's not too restrictive, with good rest you will be back training in no time." The old man doesn't insist and waits patiently for a sign from Peg that he may continue. "We don't want that shoulder to heal poorly and become more subject to injury."
Bec watches the situation with her hands on her hips. "...Peg. Is there something else Master Galen should see?" her voice is firm and authoritative, but not meant to intimidate. She's concerned.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg regards Ser Bec miserably.
The trap has snapped shut. For a moment, he is furious with Quill for having been in the right place at the right time this evening. If he hadn't come across Peg and George, then Peg could have gone home and gotten yelled at for not having made dinner and then nursed his injury in the privacy of his attic, and everything would be normal.
Except... his injury would have probably been worse. So Peg likely wouldn't have been able to get up into the attic. And then...
And then.
Peg feels very tired.
He doesn't say anything. But slowly, he lets go of the shirt, and puts his hand back in Quill's.
He lowers his eyes, and waits for the medic to continue.
@squire-quill
Quill doesn't say anything. Just squeezes Peg's hand and waits for the physician to do his work. He's not sure what he's expecting, but he has a bad, bad feeling.
@basicbascinet
The old man tilts his head worriedly and makes soothing noises as he moves the shirt to continue his work.
Bec is tense. They're glad other people are there, because they have a bad feeling that they will have to leave Peg to pay Ser Derek a visit very soon.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg won't speak, and he won't let go of Quill, so the whole of his shirt ends up bunched over their clasped hands.
Peg's left side is all over one big, yellow, fading bruise. It starts at his lowest ribs and disappears into the waist of his breeches without tapering.
His back doesn't look pretty either, but the thin white lines of scarring there are old, and curiously neat. There are about twenty of them, mostly around two or three inches long. At the small of his back, on the right side, larger scars form the initials JBH.
Peg keeps his eyes on his knees, and waits.
@squire-quill
Quill's breath catches. The bruise is what catches his attention first. Then the scars, the full horror of it sinking in slowly. JBH.
"... Ser Joanna," he realises aloud, his voice emerging a little hoarsely. "His - previous knight." He holds tightly onto Peg's hand. She's lucky she's dead.
Sir Derek isn't, though. At least, not yet.
@basicbascinet
Bec grows still as a statute, then their right fist clenches and starts to shake. They need to get a hold of their temper. They should comfort the squire, reassure him all that is over. But gods above they are just so *pissed*, like they haven't been since Bloodhaven, and they worry that if it boils over it will just terrify the poor boy.
"Quill. Look after him for me." Their voice is chilling. "There is something I need to do right now." The knight stomps out without another word.
"...Young man" the medic says gently. "Is there anything else I should see? I will increase the dose of pain medication from five to seven drops. I don't have anything for scars that old, but I can procure an oil that will help them fade better over time."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg shakes his head. "That's it," he whispers. He is working very hard to avoid thinking about where Ser Bec is going. He knows, but he is trying not to know.
He's wondered, sometimes, how bad the scars are now. If they're still obvious. It's been a while since anyone has been in a position to tell him. He's gotten real good at getting up to all sorts with his shirt and jerkin still on.
Judging by Quill's reaction, and Master Galen's, the scars must look pretty bad.
But...
"I can't afford any fancy oils," he says quietly, still looking down. "It's alright. Thanks."
@squire-quill
"He'll take the oil," Quill says stubbornly, still holding onto his hand. "Thank you."
It was taking all he had not to follow Bec right out and demand to be involved in the inevitable beatdown in progress. But Peg probably needs him here more, right? And he's holding his hand.
"So he just needs to use the drops and rest his arm, and then he'll be alright? Physically."
@basicbascinet
(continued from here, because the sheer length of that thread is starting to get on my swede)
Peg's playfulness subsides quickly when the physician enters the room. He doesn't speak, but looks down at himself, assessing. Yeah, the jerkin will have to come off. That's okay. He gets himself out of it and sets it aside, then loosens his shirt strings as far as they'll go and slips the collar down on one side to expose the injured shoulder.
It's obvious right away that it's somewhat swollen, and a purple bruise is rising on the swelling. Peg looks down at it, and represses a sigh.
"I think it looks worse than it is," he mumbles. "It's a bit sore, but it doesn't feel too bad, really."
@squire-quill
Quill's eyes widen at the sight of it. "Fuck, Peg, you've just been - sitting there with it like that the whole time? Fucking-" He stops himself from saying fucking George! because they're still pretending that Bec doesn't know the reason he'd introduced his fist repeatedly to George's face.
"It's not broken, right? He's going to be okay?" He looks at the physician worriedly.
@basicbascinet
Bec is no strange to bad injuries, but she still winces. "Peg, you should have told me it was this bad. We shouldn't have been wasting time talking with you in this state."
The medic places their bag at the nightstand and approaches as Quill interrogates him. "Give me a moment."
He gently takes a hold of Peg's hand while the other feels around the shoulder, directing the arm to move this way and that to test the range of motion. "Hmn. Not broken." He mumbles. "Inflammation around the socket... But not luxated. A minor misalignment. Hold on, child, I will make sure the joint is properly placed. This may be uncomfortable."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg makes a face. "I'm not a child. I'm eighteen. And it's not that bad... or if it is, I didn't realise..." He looks from Bec to Quill, absorbing their concern. It's a little bit frightening, honestly. He swallows and looks down at the shoulder again, then addresses the medic cautiously. "...is it bad?"
@squire-quill
"I'm sure it's fine," Quill says reassuringly. "You heard him, he says it's minor. Maybe you're right, it just - looks bad." He reaches to squeeze Peg's other hand.
@basicbascinet
The medic giggles good-naturedly. "And I'm seventy. Even Sir Bec is a child to me."
Bec doesn't seem bothered, giving a shrug. "It's good to feel young sometimes. Doesn't happen often anymore."
The old man takes Bec's distracting comment to carefully manipulate the joint, ensuring the bones are in the right place. It's not as bad as Peg could have anticipated. "All good, my boy. I'd like to immobilize your shoulder to make sure it heals well, then in a few days' time we can talk about gentle exercise to ensure it returns to the full range of motion." He digs around his bag for bandages and a small brown vial." I will leave you with a tincture for the pain and swelling as well. Five drops every six hours. You can dilute it in juice or sweetened milk, as it's awfully bitter."
Bec breathes out a sigh of relief while the medic silently directs Peg so he may wrap the shoulder. "Thank you, Master Galen."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
"Immobilise it?" Peg looks dubious. When the medic reaches for Peg's sleeve to help lever his arm out of it gently, Peg recoils, snatching his other hand out of Quill's and clutching at the front of his shirt. "Wait. Is the wrapping really necessary? Can't we just see if it gets better by itself?"
@squire-quill
"... it's going to end up moving if it's not immobilised," Quill says, eyes narrowing slightly. Why does he not want the shirt off? Not that he wouldn't have done exactly the same thing in Peg's shoes, but for a very different reason. "Do you want it to heal wrong?"
@basicbascinet
"Your friend is correct, young man. I will make sure it's not too restrictive, with good rest you will be back training in no time." The old man doesn't insist and waits patiently for a sign from Peg that he may continue. "We don't want that shoulder to heal poorly and become more subject to injury."
Bec watches the situation with her hands on her hips. "...Peg. Is there something else Master Galen should see?" her voice is firm and authoritative, but not meant to intimidate. She's concerned.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg regards Ser Bec miserably.
The trap has snapped shut. For a moment, he is furious with Quill for having been in the right place at the right time this evening. If he hadn't come across Peg and George, then Peg could have gone home and gotten yelled at for not having made dinner and then nursed his injury in the privacy of his attic, and everything would be normal.
Except... his injury would have probably been worse. So Peg likely wouldn't have been able to get up into the attic. And then...
And then.
Peg feels very tired.
He doesn't say anything. But slowly, he lets go of the shirt, and puts his hand back in Quill's.
He lowers his eyes, and waits for the medic to continue.
@squire-quill
Quill doesn't say anything. Just squeezes Peg's hand and waits for the physician to do his work. He's not sure what he's expecting, but he has a bad, bad feeling.
@basicbascinet
The old man tilts his head worriedly and makes soothing noises as he moves the shirt to continue his work.
Bec is tense. They're glad other people are there, because they have a bad feeling that they will have to leave Peg to pay Ser Derek a visit very soon.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg won't speak, and he won't let go of Quill, so the whole of his shirt ends up bunched over their clasped hands.
Peg's left side is all over one big, yellow, fading bruise. It starts at his lowest ribs and disappears into the waist of his breeches without tapering.
His back doesn't look pretty either, but the thin white lines of scarring there are old, and curiously neat. There are about twenty of them, mostly around two or three inches long. At the small of his back, on the right side, larger scars form the initials JBH.
Peg keeps his eyes on his knees, and waits.
@squire-quill
Quill's breath catches. The bruise is what catches his attention first. Then the scars, the full horror of it sinking in slowly. JBH.
"... Ser Joanna," he realises aloud, his voice emerging a little hoarsely. "His - previous knight." He holds tightly onto Peg's hand. She's lucky she's dead.
Sir Derek isn't, though. At least, not yet.
@basicbascinet
(continued from here, because the sheer length of that thread is starting to get on my swede)
Peg's playfulness subsides quickly when the physician enters the room. He doesn't speak, but looks down at himself, assessing. Yeah, the jerkin will have to come off. That's okay. He gets himself out of it and sets it aside, then loosens his shirt strings as far as they'll go and slips the collar down on one side to expose the injured shoulder.
It's obvious right away that it's somewhat swollen, and a purple bruise is rising on the swelling. Peg looks down at it, and represses a sigh.
"I think it looks worse than it is," he mumbles. "It's a bit sore, but it doesn't feel too bad, really."
@squire-quill
Quill's eyes widen at the sight of it. "Fuck, Peg, you've just been - sitting there with it like that the whole time? Fucking-" He stops himself from saying fucking George! because they're still pretending that Bec doesn't know the reason he'd introduced his fist repeatedly to George's face.
"It's not broken, right? He's going to be okay?" He looks at the physician worriedly.
@basicbascinet
Bec is no strange to bad injuries, but she still winces. "Peg, you should have told me it was this bad. We shouldn't have been wasting time talking with you in this state."
The medic places their bag at the nightstand and approaches as Quill interrogates him. "Give me a moment."
He gently takes a hold of Peg's hand while the other feels around the shoulder, directing the arm to move this way and that to test the range of motion. "Hmn. Not broken." He mumbles. "Inflammation around the socket... But not luxated. A minor misalignment. Hold on, child, I will make sure the joint is properly placed. This may be uncomfortable."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg makes a face. "I'm not a child. I'm eighteen. And it's not that bad... or if it is, I didn't realise..." He looks from Bec to Quill, absorbing their concern. It's a little bit frightening, honestly. He swallows and looks down at the shoulder again, then addresses the medic cautiously. "...is it bad?"
@squire-quill
"I'm sure it's fine," Quill says reassuringly. "You heard him, he says it's minor. Maybe you're right, it just - looks bad." He reaches to squeeze Peg's other hand.
@basicbascinet
The medic giggles good-naturedly. "And I'm seventy. Even Sir Bec is a child to me."
Bec doesn't seem bothered, giving a shrug. "It's good to feel young sometimes. Doesn't happen often anymore."
The old man takes Bec's distracting comment to carefully manipulate the joint, ensuring the bones are in the right place. It's not as bad as Peg could have anticipated. "All good, my boy. I'd like to immobilize your shoulder to make sure it heals well, then in a few days' time we can talk about gentle exercise to ensure it returns to the full range of motion." He digs around his bag for bandages and a small brown vial." I will leave you with a tincture for the pain and swelling as well. Five drops every six hours. You can dilute it in juice or sweetened milk, as it's awfully bitter."
Bec breathes out a sigh of relief while the medic silently directs Peg so he may wrap the shoulder. "Thank you, Master Galen."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
"Immobilise it?" Peg looks dubious. When the medic reaches for Peg's sleeve to help lever his arm out of it gently, Peg recoils, snatching his other hand out of Quill's and clutching at the front of his shirt. "Wait. Is the wrapping really necessary? Can't we just see if it gets better by itself?"
@squire-quill
"... it's going to end up moving if it's not immobilised," Quill says, eyes narrowing slightly. Why does he not want the shirt off? Not that he wouldn't have done exactly the same thing in Peg's shoes, but for a very different reason. "Do you want it to heal wrong?"
@basicbascinet
"Your friend is correct, young man. I will make sure it's not too restrictive, with good rest you will be back training in no time." The old man doesn't insist and waits patiently for a sign from Peg that he may continue. "We don't want that shoulder to heal poorly and become more subject to injury."
Bec watches the situation with her hands on her hips. "...Peg. Is there something else Master Galen should see?" her voice is firm and authoritative, but not meant to intimidate. She's concerned.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg regards Ser Bec miserably.
The trap has snapped shut. For a moment, he is furious with Quill for having been in the right place at the right time this evening. If he hadn't come across Peg and George, then Peg could have gone home and gotten yelled at for not having made dinner and then nursed his injury in the privacy of his attic, and everything would be normal.
Except... his injury would have probably been worse. So Peg likely wouldn't have been able to get up into the attic. And then...
And then.
Peg feels very tired.
He doesn't say anything. But slowly, he lets go of the shirt, and puts his hand back in Quill's.
He lowers his eyes, and waits for the medic to continue.
@squire-quill
Quill doesn't say anything. Just squeezes Peg's hand and waits for the physician to do his work. He's not sure what he's expecting, but he has a bad, bad feeling.
@basicbascinet
(continued from here, because the sheer length of that thread is starting to get on my swede)
Peg's playfulness subsides quickly when the physician enters the room. He doesn't speak, but looks down at himself, assessing. Yeah, the jerkin will have to come off. That's okay. He gets himself out of it and sets it aside, then loosens his shirt strings as far as they'll go and slips the collar down on one side to expose the injured shoulder.
It's obvious right away that it's somewhat swollen, and a purple bruise is rising on the swelling. Peg looks down at it, and represses a sigh.
"I think it looks worse than it is," he mumbles. "It's a bit sore, but it doesn't feel too bad, really."
@squire-quill
Quill's eyes widen at the sight of it. "Fuck, Peg, you've just been - sitting there with it like that the whole time? Fucking-" He stops himself from saying fucking George! because they're still pretending that Bec doesn't know the reason he'd introduced his fist repeatedly to George's face.
"It's not broken, right? He's going to be okay?" He looks at the physician worriedly.
@basicbascinet
Bec is no strange to bad injuries, but she still winces. "Peg, you should have told me it was this bad. We shouldn't have been wasting time talking with you in this state."
The medic places their bag at the nightstand and approaches as Quill interrogates him. "Give me a moment."
He gently takes a hold of Peg's hand while the other feels around the shoulder, directing the arm to move this way and that to test the range of motion. "Hmn. Not broken." He mumbles. "Inflammation around the socket... But not luxated. A minor misalignment. Hold on, child, I will make sure the joint is properly placed. This may be uncomfortable."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg makes a face. "I'm not a child. I'm eighteen. And it's not that bad... or if it is, I didn't realise..." He looks from Bec to Quill, absorbing their concern. It's a little bit frightening, honestly. He swallows and looks down at the shoulder again, then addresses the medic cautiously. "...is it bad?"
@squire-quill
"I'm sure it's fine," Quill says reassuringly. "You heard him, he says it's minor. Maybe you're right, it just - looks bad." He reaches to squeeze Peg's other hand.
@basicbascinet
The medic giggles good-naturedly. "And I'm seventy. Even Sir Bec is a child to me."
Bec doesn't seem bothered, giving a shrug. "It's good to feel young sometimes. Doesn't happen often anymore."
The old man takes Bec's distracting comment to carefully manipulate the joint, ensuring the bones are in the right place. It's not as bad as Peg could have anticipated. "All good, my boy. I'd like to immobilize your shoulder to make sure it heals well, then in a few days' time we can talk about gentle exercise to ensure it returns to the full range of motion." He digs around his bag for bandages and a small brown vial." I will leave you with a tincture for the pain and swelling as well. Five drops every six hours. You can dilute it in juice or sweetened milk, as it's awfully bitter."
Bec breathes out a sigh of relief while the medic silently directs Peg so he may wrap the shoulder. "Thank you, Master Galen."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
"Immobilise it?" Peg looks dubious. When the medic reaches for Peg's sleeve to help lever his arm out of it gently, Peg recoils, snatching his other hand out of Quill's and clutching at the front of his shirt. "Wait. Is the wrapping really necessary? Can't we just see if it gets better by itself?"
@squire-quill
"... it's going to end up moving if it's not immobilised," Quill says, eyes narrowing slightly. Why does he not want the shirt off? Not that he wouldn't have done exactly the same thing in Peg's shoes, but for a very different reason. "Do you want it to heal wrong?"
@basicbascinet
(continued from here, because the sheer length of that thread is starting to get on my swede)
Peg's playfulness subsides quickly when the physician enters the room. He doesn't speak, but looks down at himself, assessing. Yeah, the jerkin will have to come off. That's okay. He gets himself out of it and sets it aside, then loosens his shirt strings as far as they'll go and slips the collar down on one side to expose the injured shoulder.
It's obvious right away that it's somewhat swollen, and a purple bruise is rising on the swelling. Peg looks down at it, and represses a sigh.
"I think it looks worse than it is," he mumbles. "It's a bit sore, but it doesn't feel too bad, really."
@squire-quill
Quill's eyes widen at the sight of it. "Fuck, Peg, you've just been - sitting there with it like that the whole time? Fucking-" He stops himself from saying fucking George! because they're still pretending that Bec doesn't know the reason he'd introduced his fist repeatedly to George's face.
"It's not broken, right? He's going to be okay?" He looks at the physician worriedly.
@basicbascinet
Bec is no strange to bad injuries, but she still winces. "Peg, you should have told me it was this bad. We shouldn't have been wasting time talking with you in this state."
The medic places their bag at the nightstand and approaches as Quill interrogates him. "Give me a moment."
He gently takes a hold of Peg's hand while the other feels around the shoulder, directing the arm to move this way and that to test the range of motion. "Hmn. Not broken." He mumbles. "Inflammation around the socket... But not luxated. A minor misalignment. Hold on, child, I will make sure the joint is properly placed. This may be uncomfortable."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg makes a face. "I'm not a child. I'm eighteen. And it's not that bad... or if it is, I didn't realise..." He looks from Bec to Quill, absorbing their concern. It's a little bit frightening, honestly. He swallows and looks down at the shoulder again, then addresses the medic cautiously. "...is it bad?"
@squire-quill
"I'm sure it's fine," Quill says reassuringly. "You heard him, he says it's minor. Maybe you're right, it just - looks bad." He reaches to squeeze Peg's other hand.
@basicbascinet
(continued from here, because the sheer length of that thread is starting to get on my swede)
Peg's playfulness subsides quickly when the physician enters the room. He doesn't speak, but looks down at himself, assessing. Yeah, the jerkin will have to come off. That's okay. He gets himself out of it and sets it aside, then loosens his shirt strings as far as they'll go and slips the collar down on one side to expose the injured shoulder.
It's obvious right away that it's somewhat swollen, and a purple bruise is rising on the swelling. Peg looks down at it, and represses a sigh.
"I think it looks worse than it is," he mumbles. "It's a bit sore, but it doesn't feel too bad, really."
@squire-quill
Quill's eyes widen at the sight of it. "Fuck, Peg, you've just been - sitting there with it like that the whole time? Fucking-" He stops himself from saying fucking George! because they're still pretending that Bec doesn't know the reason he'd introduced his fist repeatedly to George's face.
"It's not broken, right? He's going to be okay?" He looks at the physician worriedly.
@basicbascinet
[George had waited until late to catch Peg as he was about to return home to sleep. He runs at him and twists the boy's arm behind his back]
Finally came out of your hole, you little rat? That's what you do, ain't it, run and hide and be a waste of food, just like a rat. Except you keep making pathetic crying faces at anyone until they decide to fuck you instead of snapping your neck like they should. [He twists the arm harder] Useless fucking bitch.
Go on, say you are a little whore rat. Or I'm gonna keep going until you snap like a twig. Say it, loudly! Say it!
When he hears the running footsteps, Peg's first thought is that it's @squire-quill, and his heart leaps. Stupid heart.
He starts to turn, but then his arm is being grabbed, and the twist is too sharp, and the voice definitely isn't Quill's. In his shock, it takes Peg a second to place it.
Fucking George. Oh shit.
"What the fuck - let go of me - "
Then George twists harder, and a thin shriek bursts out of Peg. He dances up onto tiptoes, staggering, trying to relieve some of the awful pressure. It feels as if his shoulder is about to pop out of its socket.
"Fuck!" Peg throws dignity to the winds. "I'm a - I'malittlewhoreratletgoLETGO - "
Tears are dribbling out of the corners of his eyes. He gasps, trying to keep his balance on his toes. He can't maintain it. He's going to fall at any second, and the wrench to his shoulder when he goes down will be potent.
The kick to the back of George's knee comes as a surprise, since he's too focused on tormenting Peg to be watching his back: his first mistake. His second mistake is not letting go of Peg's arm fast enough. As he crumples with a howl, still gripping onto the other squire's arm, Quill punches him full in the face, knocking him down.
"I told you-" a kick to his ribs, hard "-you don't call him that. You do not fucking get to call him that." Another kick to his stomach before Quill just throws himself down on top of George.
The beating is grim, thorough and almost methodical. Quill doesn't seem particularly angry at this point; his jaw is set as he straddles George, holding the other squire down in order to better break his nose as if he's performing a somewhat unpleasant but necessary task.
"Your turn," he hisses into George's ear once he's more or less done beating him to a bloody pulp. "You say it. Go on. I'm a little whore rat. Say it, and maybe I won't fucking kill you." He drags the squire's head up by the hair. George just gurgles, dripping bloody saliva onto the floor through broken teeth. Quill snorts, then drops him, straightening up.
He looks at Peg, catching his breath. "... did he hurt you?"
Peg isn't particularly good at doling out violence, but he's accustomed to the sight of it. Squiring in general will do that for you, and particularly so if you did a stint for a bloodthirsty knight out on chevauchée.
So Peg flinches and looks on with a kind of awestruck detachment as Quill reduces George's face to a bloody paste. He grips his sore arm near the shoulder and moves the joint a little, almost absently, assessing the degree of damage.
His ears are ringing. The whole scene seems covered in a faint sheen of unreality. He feels as if he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. He checks behind him - maybe George has an accomplice? - but there's no one else.
And then Quill is speaking to him. As though they're - as though they're people who are speaking to each other.
They're not. Not really. But Peg is a bit too shaken to stick to it right now, and Quill did just beat five colours of snot out of George for him, so Peg takes a breath and opens his mouth to reply.
To his very great embarrassment, he starts weeping instead.
Quill grimaces, suddenly awkward. Peg is Crying. That is not a thing he's good at dealing with.
"Hey. It's okay. Are you hurt? Do you need to go to a healer?" He heads over. But Peg's mad at him, so instead of pulling him into a hug like he wants to, he just pats him awkwardly on the head.
"Fine, I'm fine," Peg chokes, scrubbing furiously at his cheeks. "I'm just being an idiot - hey, what are you - " He cringes away from Quill's first pat, then falls awkwardly still, submitting to the rest while trying to smooth the hitches out of his breath. It feels wrong and stupid. But... sort of nice, all the same.
Everything about Quill feels like that.
Peg takes a steadying breath. "No serious damage," he says more evenly, though there's still a slight tremble in his voice. "Just some pulled muscles, I think. It could have been much worse."
Peg had been sure it was going to be so much worse. And then Quill had appeared out of nowhere and just -
Peg blushes from his collar to the roots of his hair.
"Thank you," he whispers. "That was - you were incredible. Like a proper knight. I knew you were good, from training, but - " He glances at George's mangled form, lying face down a few yards away. "You demolished him."
Quill shrugs, glancing down at George. "That's not exactly from training," he mutters. "I'm just really good at beating the shit out of people."
He eyes Peg for a moment longer, then - giving up - he wraps one arm carefully around his shoulders. He begins to walk, drawing Peg with him. "C'mon. Someone'll know if that needs looking at."
Peg doesn't quite mean to allow himself to be led anywhere, but Quill is warm and easy to lean into and then it's just sort of happening.
"What do you mean, looking at?" he mumbles, sliding his arm around Quill's waist. He's not sure he's forgiven Quill, exactly, but it's awkward to walk along with his elbow banging into the other squire's side. It's just practical. And... sort of cosy and nice. But that's not why he's doing it.
"Your arm. If it's hurt or whatever. And maybe he can like, give you somewhere to sleep overnight or something. So you don't have to go places when you're all shaken up. ... and something to eat. Or something."
If he's honest Quill isn't sure the KPS will do any of this, but it's worth a try. And it's not like he has a great many other places to take him.
"Overnight?" Peg stops, frowning. "I don't need somewhere to stay. I just need to go home..."
But that isn't an entirely comfortable thought either. Because the truth is, he should have gone home hours ago. Instead he spent half the afternoon hiding in a castle storage room, trying to avoid the KPS and the Chancellor and George and probably half a dozen other people who've been trying to track him down so they can give him a hard time.
He's tired, he's overwrought, and the thought of imminently having to explain to Sir Derek why there's nothing but bread and cheese for dinner isn't appealing.
He drops his eyes and starts walking again. "Actually, yeah, you know what. Alright."
"... I'll check on Sir Derek for you, if you're worried," Quill says, doing his best not to sneer at the name. "I'll tell him you're doing chores for someone important or something. Whatever would make him proud." And whatever would make him not ask questions or be mad at Peg.
"Oh, thank you, but no, don't do that," Peg says hurriedly. "He won't worry. He's, um, he's used to me staying out overnight now and then..."
Peg falters as he realises too late how the implications of this bare-faced lie will land for Quill, but he can't take it back now. What matters most is that Sir Derek not open the door to find a squire in his doorstep claiming to be Peg's friend. Absolutely nothing good can come of that when Peg gets home.
"... right," Quill says, impressively unfrostily. "Then I guess we'll just find you a bed for the night."
The rest of their journey is completed in silence. The building they eventually reach is the KPS headquarters. Quill leads Peg up and bangs on the door. "Hi. Um. We're looking for Ser Bec."
( @basicbascinet )
A willowy young person opens the door. They raise their brows when they see Peg.
"Oh, hey, you're that squire that has been running from Sir Bec for some reason. Come on in! I'll go get them." They look pointedly at Quill's bloodied fists. "Are you guys ok? Seems like you've been in trouble."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Ser Bec?
Peg stares unseeingly into the warmly lit interior. No. He thought they were going somewhere safe. This place is a trap, and if he steps inside, it will snap shut.
He pulls himself free of Quill with a wounded sideways look.
"This was a mistake. I need to go."
He turns and begins walking.
@squire-quill
"Nope." Quill grabs him around the middle, lifting him off his feet so he can't escape. He leans to address the... squire? Whoever the fuck this is. "Yeah, we'll talk to Ser Bec. Thanks." He walks inside, carrying Peg with him.
@basicbascinet
(Peg freezes when Quill grabs him off his feet. He doesn't struggle, or protest, or breathe; but a grunt lodges in his throat. As they cross the threshold, he grabs desperately at Quill's shoulders to take some of the weight off his middle. He's gone pale.)
@basicbascinet
Quill puts him down immediately, though he's still holding him in place to stop him from running. "What's wrong? Are you injured?" He eyes Peg worriedly. "I thought it was just your arm."
@basicbascinet
The squire gives Peg a funny look, like they want to laugh but feel bad about it. "Hey. Hey, Peg, is it? You don't need to look like we're about to flay you, you know. Sir Bec can be a bit of a grump, but they're not that scary. They just wanted to talk to you."
They leave momentarily, but soon run back, beckoning them from around a corner. "Come to the office, both of you! This way!".
The office is bare and well-organized. There's a cabinet labeled "No longer my problem" in the corner from which come rustling noises. As if a cat was busy shredding a bunch of paper. Bec is sitting by the desk.
"There you are. I'm surprised you came around after all that running. Take a seat. You too, Quill, is it?"
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg is avoiding Quill's questions, and avoiding his eyes too. He doesn't particularly want to look at Ser Bec's irritatingly self-assured squire either, and he definitely doesn't want to look at Ser Bec.
The problem is, Peg can't seem to help liking Ser Bec. The knight is brusque and no-nonsense and... and rather heroic, not just in the ordinary knightly way. Peg admires Ser Bec a lot. He wants to trust him, even though he knows he can't. And a part of him very much wants Ser Bec to like him.
And that is dangerous.
So Peg squashes it all down as hard as he can, and stares mutely at the floor while he slides into one of the seats.
@squire-quill
"Quill, yeah." He doesn't take a seat, but moves to stand next to Peg, keeping half an eye on him. "... tell them thanks for seeing us, I guess."
He's not sure what to make of this weird, silent version of Peg. He reaches to squeeze his non-injured shoulder gently.
@basicbascinet
Peg's silence isn't exactly encouraging. Did they come willingly, or did the other squire bring him there? Hopefully this wasn't a result of Thorn's weird people-hunting ideas.
"So, why have you two come here? I know enough about Sir Derek to have an intervention planned." Bec frowns. "Did he do something especially bad today?"
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg scowls at the floor. "No." He can pour plenty of self-righteous resentment into that one word, because it's true. He's hardly even seen Sir Derek today.
The silence that follows gives him a little time to process the rest, and to develop an unwilling sliver of curiosity.
"... what's an intervention?" he asks sullenly.
@basicbascinet
"Depends. Can be plenty of things. Usually, it's a stern talk about one's actions. Making sure one won't continue getting blackout drunk all the time. Although I will be honest, I still have half a mind to march over there and kick his sorry arse."
Bec lifts a hand in a preemptive sign to stop.
"Before you defend him, let me tell you this. I get it. You know him better than most and you want to look out for him. Except this isn't something you are equipped to do, and his own pain isn't an excuse for how you've been treated. Having a squire is a privilege and a responsibility. Sir Derek has proven himself unworthy of it. This isn't up for discussion."
Bec looks over to Quill.
"As for you, care to explain the blood?"
@squire-quill
"No, ser," Quill says, arms folded. "There was an issue and it was dealt with. Ser." He knows how this works. He wouldn't say what happened and nor - so help him - would George. Then he pauses, reluctantly. I did beat the shit out of him.
"I did see Squire George tripped and fell over in a suspiciously quiet place near the training yard," he says. "I think he smacked his face into the wall. Unrelatedly, does KPS have a medic or something? I think Peg hurt his shoulder."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Oh right. My shoulder.
Peg had forgotten that was why they were here.
"It's only had a bit of a pull," he mumbles. "Quill's making a fuss, Ser. Thinks it's earned me a - a hot meal and a bedtime story." He intends for it to be scornful, but he's too drained to stick the landing, and it ends up sounding more plaintive than anything.
@basicbascinet
Bec tilts their head in a way one can imagine they are lifting an eyebrow inquisitively at Quill.
"You are a pretty shit liar. So you flattened Squire George's face, did you? I'll send someone over to see to him. You're lucky I can tell what this is about." Whatever George did, it clearly involved hurting Peg, and while Bec won't go so far as to praise Quill for pummelling another squire, they won't chastise him either. Bullies should be ready to face consequences, they think.
"We are not so fancy as to have a live-in medic, but I'll call on the neighbourhood physic. After that, you can spend the night, Peg, and we will have a chat about your future when you're feeling better tomorrow. We'll have you sorted out, don't worry."
@squire-quill
Quill shrugs. He hasn't really been trying to lie well. "Thank you, Ser."
He looks at Peg. "... what do you think? You can get some rest and something to eat, and then talk in the morning."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg scowls and turns his face away from Quill.
He wants to feel justified in staying mad at Quill for tricking him into coming here. But... he has to admit, it's not actually been that bad, so far. Ser Bec isn't pushing him to tell tales on Ser Derek. And it sounds as if the KPS somehow knew quite a bit about Sir Derek already. So whatever Ser Bec is going to do about him, they were going to do it anyway.
He wishes they wouldn't. It'll only make things worse. But clearly they will, and Peg doesn't want to be there when it goes down.
So maybe it's better to be here instead. Just for a little while.
"Yeah," he says reluctantly, his shoulders drooping a little. "Alright."
@basicbascinet
"Damn, kid, you don't have to sound like we are sending you to the gallows. The beds are pretty good and I'll have you know that Madam Sierra's food is amazing. Now, it's late and I still have to get the medic and find George. I'll have Eloah show you one of the spare rooms. They're the squire who met you at the door." Bec gets up and goes around the desk. It seems like they're about to give Peg a friendly pat on the shoulder, but remembers his injury just in time.
"You can stay as well, Quill. I was told you're about to become Sir Thorn's squire, so I'd like to hear from you once in a while." They aren't sure what kind of instruction Thorn would provide to the squire. It's possible it won't be anything concerning, but they're not taking any chances.
@squire-quill
Quill blinks. "I'm what? I'm - no, I'm just - like, training. With the royal guards. There's nothing official, or anything." He shrugs uncomfortably. "I'll stay, though. Just for tonight." He has no intention of leaving Peg here by himself.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg's head whips around. "Oh, don't you deny it," he snaps at Quill, going to fold his arms and then wincing and changing his mind. He doesn't let the twinge of pain stop him. "Nobody is talking about anything except you and your precious Knight Captain, and all the ways he wants to train you." Peg's good hand flies up to describe a quick set of air quotes. "You've got some nerve, trying to play innocent!"
@basicbascinet
Having settled the situation to their satisfaction, Bec was ready to leave, but Peg's outburst quickly sacked that idea.
"Excuse me? They are saying what about Captain Thorn's training?"
Oh, they have to get that guy. He can't keep getting away with this. But from what the squires had shown, both were as likely to lie to his face than help any investigation.
"... I changed my mind. Quill, I want you to report in person weekly without fault. If you are unable to, I expect an explanation. And should any incidents with the Captain arise... I hope you will tell me."
@squire-quill
Quill puffs up indignantly, glaring furiously at Peg. "He's just repeating a bunch of shit from the mouths of morons!" he snaps. "All the other squires do is chat bullshit. Unless you're going to agree with George, Peg, and say that the only reason the Knight Captain wants me as a squire is to fuck me? He's jealous and he doesn't know what he's talking about," he adds to Bec, scowling. "Knight Captain Thorn hasn't done anything. We sparred and he was careful not to hurt me. And he hasn't done anything else, either. And anyway, like I said: I'm not his squire. I'm just training with his guards, that's all."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg facefaults at Ser Bec's scandalised reaction. Why should Ser Bec care if Quill and the Knight Captain are going to fuck?
But clearly they do, and between their grim determination and Quill's angry outburst, Peg sinks down in his seat again.
"I never said he only wants to fuck you," he mutters sulkily. "Yeah, the Captain probably does want to train you. Going to spar with you a whole bunch, I bet. Maybe buy you flowers and take you to dinner too, I don't know."
@basicbascinet
"Stop. Talking. Both of you." Somehow, the Captain doesn't strike Bec as the dinner and flowers type. But that is besides the point. They could already feel a migraine coming in. "I don't give a shit about who said what. Quill, I want to see your face once a week. You can come here, or I can go meet you in front of the royal guards. Your choice. Peg, stop riling him up and go find a room. I will go find the medic and when I come back no one better be fighting."
They huff and shake their head, then leave at a brisk pace.
@squire-quill
"Now look, you scared them off," Quill mutters. "You heard them, find a room."
He can't help himself, though. "The Captain isn't going to take me to dinner and give me flowers, anyway, that's stupid. But why would that even bother you if he did? You fuck other people all the time!" He does at least lower his voice for this.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg would have been content to follow Ser Bec's order to find a room. But hearing Quill repeat it makes him immediately want to do anything but, and Quill's further comments just take the biscuit.
"Says who?" he demands, bridling. "Now who's going around believing things just because he heard them from Fucking George?"
"Said literally you the first time we fucked!" Quill hisses. "You were all like 'ooooooh do you really think this is the first time I'm doing this with someone, ooooh'...." The silly voice really adds something, he thinks.
"You weren't my first fuck, no," Peg hisses. "And you parsed that as me fucking other people all the time, did you? Incredible logic. Do you also believe all men are kings, on account of how all kings are men?"
Then Peg blinks, and his expression falters.
"Wait. What do you mean, the first time we fucked. We've only fucked once."
He stares, hope suddenly swelling in his chest Quill is talking as if it's something they're going to do again. As if he still wants to.
Quill blinks - then scowls at him, flushing red. "Yeah, well, you know what I mean," he mutters. "When we fucked. Whatever. Just - find yourself a stupid room. I'll sleep on the floor or whatever."
He waves a hand vaguely, still scowling, and looks away. "... and maybe that wasn't the first time you fucked someone. What else was I meant to think, exactly? You were doing the whole 'oh you're not special' thing. So you definitely made it sound like you do it all the time. So obviously I thought it was no big deal."
"Well I only said it like that because you kept coming up with bullshit reasons not to rail me! I thought you were trying to protect my fucking virtue or something!" Peg says, gesticulating wildly with his good arm. "I didn't know about you then, did I? So you can't - "
And then Peg pulls up abruptly as it sinks in. He stares at Quill for a moment, processing. "Wait. Quill. I was meaning to ask, actually; before... everything. Is there... anyone else who knows about you?"
He's been pretty sure of the answer for a while, but the implications of it never occurred to him. His eyes widen and he leans forward, peering at Quill closely. "Had you ever done that, before me?"
"Doesn't fucking matter, does it?" Quill says irritably. "I've, like - made out with people, or whatever, but -" He shrugs, grouchy. "And no, no-one else knows about me. Obviously my parents or whatever. My family. But no-one here."
He sidesteps Peg abruptly and stalks off. "If you're not looking for a room for you, then I am."
Peg heroically swallows the question of who exactly Quill has been making out with. Some things are more important, and Peg prides himself on his maturity.
"I'm not going to tell anyone, you know," he says, getting up and trailing after Quill. "About any of it. It's none of anyone else's business, is it. And - " He hesitates. "I really didn't mean to tell Ser Bec all that stuff about the Knight Captain. Or at least, I didn't think they'd care."
"Yeah and now I get a weekly check-in for something which isn't even happening," Quill says, rolling his eyes. "... I know you're not going to tell anyone. Not about that, anyway." He glances at Peg, frowning. "... but if you listen to Ser Bec about the Sir Derek stuff, then I'll listen to her too. Deal?"
"You'll listen to them how?" Peg catches up to Quill, trotting along at his side and taking four steps for every three of Quill's long-legged strides. "You mean you... you won't get involved with Captain Thorn?" He sounds a little incredulous.
"... no, I mean I'll check in with them once a week. To tell them all about the things which aren't happening with the Knight Captain." He rolls his eyes. "Seriously. All the Captain's said to me is that I can train with the royal guard. That's literally it. You're making a mountain out of a molehill."
Peg considers this. He still doesn't understand why Ser Bec is so against it (Does Ser Bec want Sir Thorn for themself? That doesn't seem right...) but Quill reporting in weekly with someone who clearly wants to make sure it doesn't fucking happen... well, that certainly doesn't read as a bad outcome to Peg.
"Well... alright then," Peg says, trying to feign at least a little reluctance. "I'll listen to Ser Bec, if you will." It doesn't strike Peg as much of a sacrifice. He didn't see how he was going to get out of having to listen to Ser Bec anyway. It would be tedious and it wouldn't change anything, but a lot of things in life are like that and you just have to put up with them.
"Okay then, deal," Quill says, quietly relieved. He's not equipped to make Peg see sense over the whole Sir Derek thing; he hopes perhaps Bec is. "Now then, room. And getting your arm looked at once she's back with the physic."
He opens a door to a room at random. It seems empty. And there is a bed. "Here?"
Peg shrugs lopsidedly. "Sure." He makes for the bed and plunks himself on the edge and - oh. It's got a little give in it. He fingers the blanket. Oh. It's soft and thick and he immediately wants to lie face down on the bed and hug it. Obviously he's not about to do that in front of Quill, though.
Well. Maybe this won't be so terrible, if he can just keep from thinking about how much worse everything will be when he goes home.
And to that end...
"Quill," he says, rubbing the blanket absently with one hand and looking up at the bigger squire. "Can I ask you something? About your... situation?"
"... yeah?" Quill glances at him, a little warily. "What do you want to know?" He's taken up a position by the door, leaning back against the doorframe with arms folded.
Peg takes a deep breath, lowers his voice, and spits out the question that's been on his mind ever since Quill princess-carried him back to barracks after edging him within an inch of his life.
"Will you tell me why you don't have a dick? Did you get injured, or did you used to be a girl, or... or what?" Peg's cheeks are reddening, but he doesn't look away. "I'm not trying to be nosy. You don't have to tell me. I mostly just want to know if getting you off at some point is something that's on the cards... or if I should just try to stop thinking about that now. That's all."
Quill scowls, reddening. "... used to be a girl," he says grudgingly. "I mean, I guess. Everything I've got down there works, just-" He shrugs awkwardly. "It's not what I wanted to use on you right then. Like you said, you were wanting to be railed. My - railing equipment is lacking, currently."
He pauses, then eyes Peg, smirking despite himself. "You've been thinking about getting me off, huh?"
Something fizzy bubbles up inside Peg's chest when Quill reddens like that. He's not angry. He's just... being Quill. But with the corner of his lid cracked open again. Just for Peg.
Peg wants to tear the lid off and eat him when he looks like that.
Instead, he leans back on his hands - a little to one side, so his weight is mostly through his good arm - and says with a grin, "Well. I am a tremendous slut, you know. I can't help thinking about these things."
Quill snorts, grinning despite himself as something inside him eases a little. "You sure are," he agrees. "A dangerous thing to be thinking about."
He stays where he is by the door, as much as he sort of wants to move closer. Peg's still injured, and Ser Bec will probably be along with the physic at any moment. They don't need to be any more traumatised by squire drama than they already are.
( @basicbascinet )
There is a knock at the door, the squire from earlier peeks in.
"Hey, are you going to get a move on? I'm supposed to find you two rooms. Or you can share, just don't start fooling around or Bec will have you doing the laundry tomorrow."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg looks at Quill hopefully. "It's up to you. You'll probably be more comfortable in your own room, but... if you want to stay... I don't mind?" He plucks at the blanket, lifting it a little. "There's plenty of it. More than I can use. And it's, um. It's kind of cold in here. Don't you think?"
His eyes are large and innocent. It is not remotely cold in here.
"... we'll share," Quill says to Eloah. "I'm keeping an eye on him." There wasn't much of a chance of Peg running into more trouble in here, but still, he's not taking chances. "... thanks. Just point us in the right direction."
He casts Peg a look, but can't quite meet his eyes because he's trying not to smile, and catching his eye will make him break immediately.
@basicbascinet
[George had waited until late to catch Peg as he was about to return home to sleep. He runs at him and twists the boy's arm behind his back]
Finally came out of your hole, you little rat? That's what you do, ain't it, run and hide and be a waste of food, just like a rat. Except you keep making pathetic crying faces at anyone until they decide to fuck you instead of snapping your neck like they should. [He twists the arm harder] Useless fucking bitch.
Go on, say you are a little whore rat. Or I'm gonna keep going until you snap like a twig. Say it, loudly! Say it!
When he hears the running footsteps, Peg's first thought is that it's @squire-quill, and his heart leaps. Stupid heart.
He starts to turn, but then his arm is being grabbed, and the twist is too sharp, and the voice definitely isn't Quill's. In his shock, it takes Peg a second to place it.
Fucking George. Oh shit.
"What the fuck - let go of me - "
Then George twists harder, and a thin shriek bursts out of Peg. He dances up onto tiptoes, staggering, trying to relieve some of the awful pressure. It feels as if his shoulder is about to pop out of its socket.
"Fuck!" Peg throws dignity to the winds. "I'm a - I'malittlewhoreratletgoLETGO - "
Tears are dribbling out of the corners of his eyes. He gasps, trying to keep his balance on his toes. He can't maintain it. He's going to fall at any second, and the wrench to his shoulder when he goes down will be potent.
The kick to the back of George's knee comes as a surprise, since he's too focused on tormenting Peg to be watching his back: his first mistake. His second mistake is not letting go of Peg's arm fast enough. As he crumples with a howl, still gripping onto the other squire's arm, Quill punches him full in the face, knocking him down.
"I told you-" a kick to his ribs, hard "-you don't call him that. You do not fucking get to call him that." Another kick to his stomach before Quill just throws himself down on top of George.
The beating is grim, thorough and almost methodical. Quill doesn't seem particularly angry at this point; his jaw is set as he straddles George, holding the other squire down in order to better break his nose as if he's performing a somewhat unpleasant but necessary task.
"Your turn," he hisses into George's ear once he's more or less done beating him to a bloody pulp. "You say it. Go on. I'm a little whore rat. Say it, and maybe I won't fucking kill you." He drags the squire's head up by the hair. George just gurgles, dripping bloody saliva onto the floor through broken teeth. Quill snorts, then drops him, straightening up.
He looks at Peg, catching his breath. "... did he hurt you?"
Peg isn't particularly good at doling out violence, but he's accustomed to the sight of it. Squiring in general will do that for you, and particularly so if you did a stint for a bloodthirsty knight out on chevauchée.
So Peg flinches and looks on with a kind of awestruck detachment as Quill reduces George's face to a bloody paste. He grips his sore arm near the shoulder and moves the joint a little, almost absently, assessing the degree of damage.
His ears are ringing. The whole scene seems covered in a faint sheen of unreality. He feels as if he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. He checks behind him - maybe George has an accomplice? - but there's no one else.
And then Quill is speaking to him. As though they're - as though they're people who are speaking to each other.
They're not. Not really. But Peg is a bit too shaken to stick to it right now, and Quill did just beat five colours of snot out of George for him, so Peg takes a breath and opens his mouth to reply.
To his very great embarrassment, he starts weeping instead.
Quill grimaces, suddenly awkward. Peg is Crying. That is not a thing he's good at dealing with.
"Hey. It's okay. Are you hurt? Do you need to go to a healer?" He heads over. But Peg's mad at him, so instead of pulling him into a hug like he wants to, he just pats him awkwardly on the head.
"Fine, I'm fine," Peg chokes, scrubbing furiously at his cheeks. "I'm just being an idiot - hey, what are you - " He cringes away from Quill's first pat, then falls awkwardly still, submitting to the rest while trying to smooth the hitches out of his breath. It feels wrong and stupid. But... sort of nice, all the same.
Everything about Quill feels like that.
Peg takes a steadying breath. "No serious damage," he says more evenly, though there's still a slight tremble in his voice. "Just some pulled muscles, I think. It could have been much worse."
Peg had been sure it was going to be so much worse. And then Quill had appeared out of nowhere and just -
Peg blushes from his collar to the roots of his hair.
"Thank you," he whispers. "That was - you were incredible. Like a proper knight. I knew you were good, from training, but - " He glances at George's mangled form, lying face down a few yards away. "You demolished him."
Quill shrugs, glancing down at George. "That's not exactly from training," he mutters. "I'm just really good at beating the shit out of people."
He eyes Peg for a moment longer, then - giving up - he wraps one arm carefully around his shoulders. He begins to walk, drawing Peg with him. "C'mon. Someone'll know if that needs looking at."
Peg doesn't quite mean to allow himself to be led anywhere, but Quill is warm and easy to lean into and then it's just sort of happening.
"What do you mean, looking at?" he mumbles, sliding his arm around Quill's waist. He's not sure he's forgiven Quill, exactly, but it's awkward to walk along with his elbow banging into the other squire's side. It's just practical. And... sort of cosy and nice. But that's not why he's doing it.
"Your arm. If it's hurt or whatever. And maybe he can like, give you somewhere to sleep overnight or something. So you don't have to go places when you're all shaken up. ... and something to eat. Or something."
If he's honest Quill isn't sure the KPS will do any of this, but it's worth a try. And it's not like he has a great many other places to take him.
"Overnight?" Peg stops, frowning. "I don't need somewhere to stay. I just need to go home..."
But that isn't an entirely comfortable thought either. Because the truth is, he should have gone home hours ago. Instead he spent half the afternoon hiding in a castle storage room, trying to avoid the KPS and the Chancellor and George and probably half a dozen other people who've been trying to track him down so they can give him a hard time.
He's tired, he's overwrought, and the thought of imminently having to explain to Sir Derek why there's nothing but bread and cheese for dinner isn't appealing.
He drops his eyes and starts walking again. "Actually, yeah, you know what. Alright."
"... I'll check on Sir Derek for you, if you're worried," Quill says, doing his best not to sneer at the name. "I'll tell him you're doing chores for someone important or something. Whatever would make him proud." And whatever would make him not ask questions or be mad at Peg.
"Oh, thank you, but no, don't do that," Peg says hurriedly. "He won't worry. He's, um, he's used to me staying out overnight now and then..."
Peg falters as he realises too late how the implications of this bare-faced lie will land for Quill, but he can't take it back now. What matters most is that Sir Derek not open the door to find a squire in his doorstep claiming to be Peg's friend. Absolutely nothing good can come of that when Peg gets home.
"... right," Quill says, impressively unfrostily. "Then I guess we'll just find you a bed for the night."
The rest of their journey is completed in silence. The building they eventually reach is the KPS headquarters. Quill leads Peg up and bangs on the door. "Hi. Um. We're looking for Ser Bec."
( @basicbascinet )
A willowy young person opens the door. They raise their brows when they see Peg.
"Oh, hey, you're that squire that has been running from Sir Bec for some reason. Come on in! I'll go get them." They look pointedly at Quill's bloodied fists. "Are you guys ok? Seems like you've been in trouble."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Ser Bec?
Peg stares unseeingly into the warmly lit interior. No. He thought they were going somewhere safe. This place is a trap, and if he steps inside, it will snap shut.
He pulls himself free of Quill with a wounded sideways look.
"This was a mistake. I need to go."
He turns and begins walking.
@squire-quill
"Nope." Quill grabs him around the middle, lifting him off his feet so he can't escape. He leans to address the... squire? Whoever the fuck this is. "Yeah, we'll talk to Ser Bec. Thanks." He walks inside, carrying Peg with him.
@basicbascinet
(Peg freezes when Quill grabs him off his feet. He doesn't struggle, or protest, or breathe; but a grunt lodges in his throat. As they cross the threshold, he grabs desperately at Quill's shoulders to take some of the weight off his middle. He's gone pale.)
@basicbascinet
Quill puts him down immediately, though he's still holding him in place to stop him from running. "What's wrong? Are you injured?" He eyes Peg worriedly. "I thought it was just your arm."
@basicbascinet
The squire gives Peg a funny look, like they want to laugh but feel bad about it. "Hey. Hey, Peg, is it? You don't need to look like we're about to flay you, you know. Sir Bec can be a bit of a grump, but they're not that scary. They just wanted to talk to you."
They leave momentarily, but soon run back, beckoning them from around a corner. "Come to the office, both of you! This way!".
The office is bare and well-organized. There's a cabinet labeled "No longer my problem" in the corner from which come rustling noises. As if a cat was busy shredding a bunch of paper. Bec is sitting by the desk.
"There you are. I'm surprised you came around after all that running. Take a seat. You too, Quill, is it?"
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg is avoiding Quill's questions, and avoiding his eyes too. He doesn't particularly want to look at Ser Bec's irritatingly self-assured squire either, and he definitely doesn't want to look at Ser Bec.
The problem is, Peg can't seem to help liking Ser Bec. The knight is brusque and no-nonsense and... and rather heroic, not just in the ordinary knightly way. Peg admires Ser Bec a lot. He wants to trust him, even though he knows he can't. And a part of him very much wants Ser Bec to like him.
And that is dangerous.
So Peg squashes it all down as hard as he can, and stares mutely at the floor while he slides into one of the seats.
@squire-quill
"Quill, yeah." He doesn't take a seat, but moves to stand next to Peg, keeping half an eye on him. "... tell them thanks for seeing us, I guess."
He's not sure what to make of this weird, silent version of Peg. He reaches to squeeze his non-injured shoulder gently.
@basicbascinet
Peg's silence isn't exactly encouraging. Did they come willingly, or did the other squire bring him there? Hopefully this wasn't a result of Thorn's weird people-hunting ideas.
"So, why have you two come here? I know enough about Sir Derek to have an intervention planned." Bec frowns. "Did he do something especially bad today?"
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg scowls at the floor. "No." He can pour plenty of self-righteous resentment into that one word, because it's true. He's hardly even seen Sir Derek today.
The silence that follows gives him a little time to process the rest, and to develop an unwilling sliver of curiosity.
"... what's an intervention?" he asks sullenly.
@basicbascinet
"Depends. Can be plenty of things. Usually, it's a stern talk about one's actions. Making sure one won't continue getting blackout drunk all the time. Although I will be honest, I still have half a mind to march over there and kick his sorry arse."
Bec lifts a hand in a preemptive sign to stop.
"Before you defend him, let me tell you this. I get it. You know him better than most and you want to look out for him. Except this isn't something you are equipped to do, and his own pain isn't an excuse for how you've been treated. Having a squire is a privilege and a responsibility. Sir Derek has proven himself unworthy of it. This isn't up for discussion."
Bec looks over to Quill.
"As for you, care to explain the blood?"
@squire-quill
"No, ser," Quill says, arms folded. "There was an issue and it was dealt with. Ser." He knows how this works. He wouldn't say what happened and nor - so help him - would George. Then he pauses, reluctantly. I did beat the shit out of him.
"I did see Squire George tripped and fell over in a suspiciously quiet place near the training yard," he says. "I think he smacked his face into the wall. Unrelatedly, does KPS have a medic or something? I think Peg hurt his shoulder."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Oh right. My shoulder.
Peg had forgotten that was why they were here.
"It's only had a bit of a pull," he mumbles. "Quill's making a fuss, Ser. Thinks it's earned me a - a hot meal and a bedtime story." He intends for it to be scornful, but he's too drained to stick the landing, and it ends up sounding more plaintive than anything.
@basicbascinet
Bec tilts their head in a way one can imagine they are lifting an eyebrow inquisitively at Quill.
"You are a pretty shit liar. So you flattened Squire George's face, did you? I'll send someone over to see to him. You're lucky I can tell what this is about." Whatever George did, it clearly involved hurting Peg, and while Bec won't go so far as to praise Quill for pummelling another squire, they won't chastise him either. Bullies should be ready to face consequences, they think.
"We are not so fancy as to have a live-in medic, but I'll call on the neighbourhood physic. After that, you can spend the night, Peg, and we will have a chat about your future when you're feeling better tomorrow. We'll have you sorted out, don't worry."
@squire-quill
Quill shrugs. He hasn't really been trying to lie well. "Thank you, Ser."
He looks at Peg. "... what do you think? You can get some rest and something to eat, and then talk in the morning."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg scowls and turns his face away from Quill.
He wants to feel justified in staying mad at Quill for tricking him into coming here. But... he has to admit, it's not actually been that bad, so far. Ser Bec isn't pushing him to tell tales on Ser Derek. And it sounds as if the KPS somehow knew quite a bit about Sir Derek already. So whatever Ser Bec is going to do about him, they were going to do it anyway.
He wishes they wouldn't. It'll only make things worse. But clearly they will, and Peg doesn't want to be there when it goes down.
So maybe it's better to be here instead. Just for a little while.
"Yeah," he says reluctantly, his shoulders drooping a little. "Alright."
@basicbascinet
"Damn, kid, you don't have to sound like we are sending you to the gallows. The beds are pretty good and I'll have you know that Madam Sierra's food is amazing. Now, it's late and I still have to get the medic and find George. I'll have Eloah show you one of the spare rooms. They're the squire who met you at the door." Bec gets up and goes around the desk. It seems like they're about to give Peg a friendly pat on the shoulder, but remembers his injury just in time.
"You can stay as well, Quill. I was told you're about to become Sir Thorn's squire, so I'd like to hear from you once in a while." They aren't sure what kind of instruction Thorn would provide to the squire. It's possible it won't be anything concerning, but they're not taking any chances.
@squire-quill
Quill blinks. "I'm what? I'm - no, I'm just - like, training. With the royal guards. There's nothing official, or anything." He shrugs uncomfortably. "I'll stay, though. Just for tonight." He has no intention of leaving Peg here by himself.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg's head whips around. "Oh, don't you deny it," he snaps at Quill, going to fold his arms and then wincing and changing his mind. He doesn't let the twinge of pain stop him. "Nobody is talking about anything except you and your precious Knight Captain, and all the ways he wants to train you." Peg's good hand flies up to describe a quick set of air quotes. "You've got some nerve, trying to play innocent!"
@basicbascinet
Having settled the situation to their satisfaction, Bec was ready to leave, but Peg's outburst quickly sacked that idea.
"Excuse me? They are saying what about Captain Thorn's training?"
Oh, they have to get that guy. He can't keep getting away with this. But from what the squires had shown, both were as likely to lie to his face than help any investigation.
"... I changed my mind. Quill, I want you to report in person weekly without fault. If you are unable to, I expect an explanation. And should any incidents with the Captain arise... I hope you will tell me."
@squire-quill
Quill puffs up indignantly, glaring furiously at Peg. "He's just repeating a bunch of shit from the mouths of morons!" he snaps. "All the other squires do is chat bullshit. Unless you're going to agree with George, Peg, and say that the only reason the Knight Captain wants me as a squire is to fuck me? He's jealous and he doesn't know what he's talking about," he adds to Bec, scowling. "Knight Captain Thorn hasn't done anything. We sparred and he was careful not to hurt me. And he hasn't done anything else, either. And anyway, like I said: I'm not his squire. I'm just training with his guards, that's all."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg facefaults at Ser Bec's scandalised reaction. Why should Ser Bec care if Quill and the Knight Captain are going to fuck?
But clearly they do, and between their grim determination and Quill's angry outburst, Peg sinks down in his seat again.
"I never said he only wants to fuck you," he mutters sulkily. "Yeah, the Captain probably does want to train you. Going to spar with you a whole bunch, I bet. Maybe buy you flowers and take you to dinner too, I don't know."
@basicbascinet
"Stop. Talking. Both of you." Somehow, the Captain doesn't strike Bec as the dinner and flowers type. But that is besides the point. They could already feel a migraine coming in. "I don't give a shit about who said what. Quill, I want to see your face once a week. You can come here, or I can go meet you in front of the royal guards. Your choice. Peg, stop riling him up and go find a room. I will go find the medic and when I come back no one better be fighting."
They huff and shake their head, then leave at a brisk pace.
@squire-quill
"Now look, you scared them off," Quill mutters. "You heard them, find a room."
He can't help himself, though. "The Captain isn't going to take me to dinner and give me flowers, anyway, that's stupid. But why would that even bother you if he did? You fuck other people all the time!" He does at least lower his voice for this.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg would have been content to follow Ser Bec's order to find a room. But hearing Quill repeat it makes him immediately want to do anything but, and Quill's further comments just take the biscuit.
"Says who?" he demands, bridling. "Now who's going around believing things just because he heard them from Fucking George?"
"Said literally you the first time we fucked!" Quill hisses. "You were all like 'ooooooh do you really think this is the first time I'm doing this with someone, ooooh'...." The silly voice really adds something, he thinks.
"You weren't my first fuck, no," Peg hisses. "And you parsed that as me fucking other people all the time, did you? Incredible logic. Do you also believe all men are kings, on account of how all kings are men?"
Then Peg blinks, and his expression falters.
"Wait. What do you mean, the first time we fucked. We've only fucked once."
He stares, hope suddenly swelling in his chest Quill is talking as if it's something they're going to do again. As if he still wants to.
Quill blinks - then scowls at him, flushing red. "Yeah, well, you know what I mean," he mutters. "When we fucked. Whatever. Just - find yourself a stupid room. I'll sleep on the floor or whatever."
He waves a hand vaguely, still scowling, and looks away. "... and maybe that wasn't the first time you fucked someone. What else was I meant to think, exactly? You were doing the whole 'oh you're not special' thing. So you definitely made it sound like you do it all the time. So obviously I thought it was no big deal."
"Well I only said it like that because you kept coming up with bullshit reasons not to rail me! I thought you were trying to protect my fucking virtue or something!" Peg says, gesticulating wildly with his good arm. "I didn't know about you then, did I? So you can't - "
And then Peg pulls up abruptly as it sinks in. He stares at Quill for a moment, processing. "Wait. Quill. I was meaning to ask, actually; before... everything. Is there... anyone else who knows about you?"
He's been pretty sure of the answer for a while, but the implications of it never occurred to him. His eyes widen and he leans forward, peering at Quill closely. "Had you ever done that, before me?"
"Doesn't fucking matter, does it?" Quill says irritably. "I've, like - made out with people, or whatever, but -" He shrugs, grouchy. "And no, no-one else knows about me. Obviously my parents or whatever. My family. But no-one here."
He sidesteps Peg abruptly and stalks off. "If you're not looking for a room for you, then I am."
Peg heroically swallows the question of who exactly Quill has been making out with. Some things are more important, and Peg prides himself on his maturity.
"I'm not going to tell anyone, you know," he says, getting up and trailing after Quill. "About any of it. It's none of anyone else's business, is it. And - " He hesitates. "I really didn't mean to tell Ser Bec all that stuff about the Knight Captain. Or at least, I didn't think they'd care."
"Yeah and now I get a weekly check-in for something which isn't even happening," Quill says, rolling his eyes. "... I know you're not going to tell anyone. Not about that, anyway." He glances at Peg, frowning. "... but if you listen to Ser Bec about the Sir Derek stuff, then I'll listen to her too. Deal?"
"You'll listen to them how?" Peg catches up to Quill, trotting along at his side and taking four steps for every three of Quill's long-legged strides. "You mean you... you won't get involved with Captain Thorn?" He sounds a little incredulous.
"... no, I mean I'll check in with them once a week. To tell them all about the things which aren't happening with the Knight Captain." He rolls his eyes. "Seriously. All the Captain's said to me is that I can train with the royal guard. That's literally it. You're making a mountain out of a molehill."
Peg considers this. He still doesn't understand why Ser Bec is so against it (Does Ser Bec want Sir Thorn for themself? That doesn't seem right...) but Quill reporting in weekly with someone who clearly wants to make sure it doesn't fucking happen... well, that certainly doesn't read as a bad outcome to Peg.
"Well... alright then," Peg says, trying to feign at least a little reluctance. "I'll listen to Ser Bec, if you will." It doesn't strike Peg as much of a sacrifice. He didn't see how he was going to get out of having to listen to Ser Bec anyway. It would be tedious and it wouldn't change anything, but a lot of things in life are like that and you just have to put up with them.
"Okay then, deal," Quill says, quietly relieved. He's not equipped to make Peg see sense over the whole Sir Derek thing; he hopes perhaps Bec is. "Now then, room. And getting your arm looked at once she's back with the physic."
He opens a door to a room at random. It seems empty. And there is a bed. "Here?"
Peg shrugs lopsidedly. "Sure." He makes for the bed and plunks himself on the edge and - oh. It's got a little give in it. He fingers the blanket. Oh. It's soft and thick and he immediately wants to lie face down on the bed and hug it. Obviously he's not about to do that in front of Quill, though.
Well. Maybe this won't be so terrible, if he can just keep from thinking about how much worse everything will be when he goes home.
And to that end...
"Quill," he says, rubbing the blanket absently with one hand and looking up at the bigger squire. "Can I ask you something? About your... situation?"
"... yeah?" Quill glances at him, a little warily. "What do you want to know?" He's taken up a position by the door, leaning back against the doorframe with arms folded.
Peg takes a deep breath, lowers his voice, and spits out the question that's been on his mind ever since Quill princess-carried him back to barracks after edging him within an inch of his life.
"Will you tell me why you don't have a dick? Did you get injured, or did you used to be a girl, or... or what?" Peg's cheeks are reddening, but he doesn't look away. "I'm not trying to be nosy. You don't have to tell me. I mostly just want to know if getting you off at some point is something that's on the cards... or if I should just try to stop thinking about that now. That's all."
Quill scowls, reddening. "... used to be a girl," he says grudgingly. "I mean, I guess. Everything I've got down there works, just-" He shrugs awkwardly. "It's not what I wanted to use on you right then. Like you said, you were wanting to be railed. My - railing equipment is lacking, currently."
He pauses, then eyes Peg, smirking despite himself. "You've been thinking about getting me off, huh?"
Something fizzy bubbles up inside Peg's chest when Quill reddens like that. He's not angry. He's just... being Quill. But with the corner of his lid cracked open again. Just for Peg.
Peg wants to tear the lid off and eat him when he looks like that.
Instead, he leans back on his hands - a little to one side, so his weight is mostly through his good arm - and says with a grin, "Well. I am a tremendous slut, you know. I can't help thinking about these things."
Quill snorts, grinning despite himself as something inside him eases a little. "You sure are," he agrees. "A dangerous thing to be thinking about."
He stays where he is by the door, as much as he sort of wants to move closer. Peg's still injured, and Ser Bec will probably be along with the physic at any moment. They don't need to be any more traumatised by squire drama than they already are.
( @basicbascinet )
[George had waited until late to catch Peg as he was about to return home to sleep. He runs at him and twists the boy's arm behind his back]
Finally came out of your hole, you little rat? That's what you do, ain't it, run and hide and be a waste of food, just like a rat. Except you keep making pathetic crying faces at anyone until they decide to fuck you instead of snapping your neck like they should. [He twists the arm harder] Useless fucking bitch.
Go on, say you are a little whore rat. Or I'm gonna keep going until you snap like a twig. Say it, loudly! Say it!
When he hears the running footsteps, Peg's first thought is that it's @squire-quill, and his heart leaps. Stupid heart.
He starts to turn, but then his arm is being grabbed, and the twist is too sharp, and the voice definitely isn't Quill's. In his shock, it takes Peg a second to place it.
Fucking George. Oh shit.
"What the fuck - let go of me - "
Then George twists harder, and a thin shriek bursts out of Peg. He dances up onto tiptoes, staggering, trying to relieve some of the awful pressure. It feels as if his shoulder is about to pop out of its socket.
"Fuck!" Peg throws dignity to the winds. "I'm a - I'malittlewhoreratletgoLETGO - "
Tears are dribbling out of the corners of his eyes. He gasps, trying to keep his balance on his toes. He can't maintain it. He's going to fall at any second, and the wrench to his shoulder when he goes down will be potent.
The kick to the back of George's knee comes as a surprise, since he's too focused on tormenting Peg to be watching his back: his first mistake. His second mistake is not letting go of Peg's arm fast enough. As he crumples with a howl, still gripping onto the other squire's arm, Quill punches him full in the face, knocking him down.
"I told you-" a kick to his ribs, hard "-you don't call him that. You do not fucking get to call him that." Another kick to his stomach before Quill just throws himself down on top of George.
The beating is grim, thorough and almost methodical. Quill doesn't seem particularly angry at this point; his jaw is set as he straddles George, holding the other squire down in order to better break his nose as if he's performing a somewhat unpleasant but necessary task.
"Your turn," he hisses into George's ear once he's more or less done beating him to a bloody pulp. "You say it. Go on. I'm a little whore rat. Say it, and maybe I won't fucking kill you." He drags the squire's head up by the hair. George just gurgles, dripping bloody saliva onto the floor through broken teeth. Quill snorts, then drops him, straightening up.
He looks at Peg, catching his breath. "... did he hurt you?"
Peg isn't particularly good at doling out violence, but he's accustomed to the sight of it. Squiring in general will do that for you, and particularly so if you did a stint for a bloodthirsty knight out on chevauchée.
So Peg flinches and looks on with a kind of awestruck detachment as Quill reduces George's face to a bloody paste. He grips his sore arm near the shoulder and moves the joint a little, almost absently, assessing the degree of damage.
His ears are ringing. The whole scene seems covered in a faint sheen of unreality. He feels as if he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. He checks behind him - maybe George has an accomplice? - but there's no one else.
And then Quill is speaking to him. As though they're - as though they're people who are speaking to each other.
They're not. Not really. But Peg is a bit too shaken to stick to it right now, and Quill did just beat five colours of snot out of George for him, so Peg takes a breath and opens his mouth to reply.
To his very great embarrassment, he starts weeping instead.
Quill grimaces, suddenly awkward. Peg is Crying. That is not a thing he's good at dealing with.
"Hey. It's okay. Are you hurt? Do you need to go to a healer?" He heads over. But Peg's mad at him, so instead of pulling him into a hug like he wants to, he just pats him awkwardly on the head.
"Fine, I'm fine," Peg chokes, scrubbing furiously at his cheeks. "I'm just being an idiot - hey, what are you - " He cringes away from Quill's first pat, then falls awkwardly still, submitting to the rest while trying to smooth the hitches out of his breath. It feels wrong and stupid. But... sort of nice, all the same.
Everything about Quill feels like that.
Peg takes a steadying breath. "No serious damage," he says more evenly, though there's still a slight tremble in his voice. "Just some pulled muscles, I think. It could have been much worse."
Peg had been sure it was going to be so much worse. And then Quill had appeared out of nowhere and just -
Peg blushes from his collar to the roots of his hair.
"Thank you," he whispers. "That was - you were incredible. Like a proper knight. I knew you were good, from training, but - " He glances at George's mangled form, lying face down a few yards away. "You demolished him."
Quill shrugs, glancing down at George. "That's not exactly from training," he mutters. "I'm just really good at beating the shit out of people."
He eyes Peg for a moment longer, then - giving up - he wraps one arm carefully around his shoulders. He begins to walk, drawing Peg with him. "C'mon. Someone'll know if that needs looking at."
Peg doesn't quite mean to allow himself to be led anywhere, but Quill is warm and easy to lean into and then it's just sort of happening.
"What do you mean, looking at?" he mumbles, sliding his arm around Quill's waist. He's not sure he's forgiven Quill, exactly, but it's awkward to walk along with his elbow banging into the other squire's side. It's just practical. And... sort of cosy and nice. But that's not why he's doing it.
"Your arm. If it's hurt or whatever. And maybe he can like, give you somewhere to sleep overnight or something. So you don't have to go places when you're all shaken up. ... and something to eat. Or something."
If he's honest Quill isn't sure the KPS will do any of this, but it's worth a try. And it's not like he has a great many other places to take him.
"Overnight?" Peg stops, frowning. "I don't need somewhere to stay. I just need to go home..."
But that isn't an entirely comfortable thought either. Because the truth is, he should have gone home hours ago. Instead he spent half the afternoon hiding in a castle storage room, trying to avoid the KPS and the Chancellor and George and probably half a dozen other people who've been trying to track him down so they can give him a hard time.
He's tired, he's overwrought, and the thought of imminently having to explain to Sir Derek why there's nothing but bread and cheese for dinner isn't appealing.
He drops his eyes and starts walking again. "Actually, yeah, you know what. Alright."
"... I'll check on Sir Derek for you, if you're worried," Quill says, doing his best not to sneer at the name. "I'll tell him you're doing chores for someone important or something. Whatever would make him proud." And whatever would make him not ask questions or be mad at Peg.
"Oh, thank you, but no, don't do that," Peg says hurriedly. "He won't worry. He's, um, he's used to me staying out overnight now and then..."
Peg falters as he realises too late how the implications of this bare-faced lie will land for Quill, but he can't take it back now. What matters most is that Sir Derek not open the door to find a squire in his doorstep claiming to be Peg's friend. Absolutely nothing good can come of that when Peg gets home.
"... right," Quill says, impressively unfrostily. "Then I guess we'll just find you a bed for the night."
The rest of their journey is completed in silence. The building they eventually reach is the KPS headquarters. Quill leads Peg up and bangs on the door. "Hi. Um. We're looking for Ser Bec."
( @basicbascinet )
A willowy young person opens the door. They raise their brows when they see Peg.
"Oh, hey, you're that squire that has been running from Sir Bec for some reason. Come on in! I'll go get them." They look pointedly at Quill's bloodied fists. "Are you guys ok? Seems like you've been in trouble."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Ser Bec?
Peg stares unseeingly into the warmly lit interior. No. He thought they were going somewhere safe. This place is a trap, and if he steps inside, it will snap shut.
He pulls himself free of Quill with a wounded sideways look.
"This was a mistake. I need to go."
He turns and begins walking.
@squire-quill
"Nope." Quill grabs him around the middle, lifting him off his feet so he can't escape. He leans to address the... squire? Whoever the fuck this is. "Yeah, we'll talk to Ser Bec. Thanks." He walks inside, carrying Peg with him.
@basicbascinet
(Peg freezes when Quill grabs him off his feet. He doesn't struggle, or protest, or breathe; but a grunt lodges in his throat. As they cross the threshold, he grabs desperately at Quill's shoulders to take some of the weight off his middle. He's gone pale.)
@basicbascinet
Quill puts him down immediately, though he's still holding him in place to stop him from running. "What's wrong? Are you injured?" He eyes Peg worriedly. "I thought it was just your arm."
@basicbascinet
The squire gives Peg a funny look, like they want to laugh but feel bad about it. "Hey. Hey, Peg, is it? You don't need to look like we're about to flay you, you know. Sir Bec can be a bit of a grump, but they're not that scary. They just wanted to talk to you."
They leave momentarily, but soon run back, beckoning them from around a corner. "Come to the office, both of you! This way!".
The office is bare and well-organized. There's a cabinet labeled "No longer my problem" in the corner from which come rustling noises. As if a cat was busy shredding a bunch of paper. Bec is sitting by the desk.
"There you are. I'm surprised you came around after all that running. Take a seat. You too, Quill, is it?"
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg is avoiding Quill's questions, and avoiding his eyes too. He doesn't particularly want to look at Ser Bec's irritatingly self-assured squire either, and he definitely doesn't want to look at Ser Bec.
The problem is, Peg can't seem to help liking Ser Bec. The knight is brusque and no-nonsense and... and rather heroic, not just in the ordinary knightly way. Peg admires Ser Bec a lot. He wants to trust him, even though he knows he can't. And a part of him very much wants Ser Bec to like him.
And that is dangerous.
So Peg squashes it all down as hard as he can, and stares mutely at the floor while he slides into one of the seats.
@squire-quill
"Quill, yeah." He doesn't take a seat, but moves to stand next to Peg, keeping half an eye on him. "... tell them thanks for seeing us, I guess."
He's not sure what to make of this weird, silent version of Peg. He reaches to squeeze his non-injured shoulder gently.
@basicbascinet
Peg's silence isn't exactly encouraging. Did they come willingly, or did the other squire bring him there? Hopefully this wasn't a result of Thorn's weird people-hunting ideas.
"So, why have you two come here? I know enough about Sir Derek to have an intervention planned." Bec frowns. "Did he do something especially bad today?"
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg scowls at the floor. "No." He can pour plenty of self-righteous resentment into that one word, because it's true. He's hardly even seen Sir Derek today.
The silence that follows gives him a little time to process the rest, and to develop an unwilling sliver of curiosity.
"... what's an intervention?" he asks sullenly.
@basicbascinet
"Depends. Can be plenty of things. Usually, it's a stern talk about one's actions. Making sure one won't continue getting blackout drunk all the time. Although I will be honest, I still have half a mind to march over there and kick his sorry arse."
Bec lifts a hand in a preemptive sign to stop.
"Before you defend him, let me tell you this. I get it. You know him better than most and you want to look out for him. Except this isn't something you are equipped to do, and his own pain isn't an excuse for how you've been treated. Having a squire is a privilege and a responsibility. Sir Derek has proven himself unworthy of it. This isn't up for discussion."
Bec looks over to Quill.
"As for you, care to explain the blood?"
@squire-quill
"No, ser," Quill says, arms folded. "There was an issue and it was dealt with. Ser." He knows how this works. He wouldn't say what happened and nor - so help him - would George. Then he pauses, reluctantly. I did beat the shit out of him.
"I did see Squire George tripped and fell over in a suspiciously quiet place near the training yard," he says. "I think he smacked his face into the wall. Unrelatedly, does KPS have a medic or something? I think Peg hurt his shoulder."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Oh right. My shoulder.
Peg had forgotten that was why they were here.
"It's only had a bit of a pull," he mumbles. "Quill's making a fuss, Ser. Thinks it's earned me a - a hot meal and a bedtime story." He intends for it to be scornful, but he's too drained to stick the landing, and it ends up sounding more plaintive than anything.
@basicbascinet
Bec tilts their head in a way one can imagine they are lifting an eyebrow inquisitively at Quill.
"You are a pretty shit liar. So you flattened Squire George's face, did you? I'll send someone over to see to him. You're lucky I can tell what this is about." Whatever George did, it clearly involved hurting Peg, and while Bec won't go so far as to praise Quill for pummelling another squire, they won't chastise him either. Bullies should be ready to face consequences, they think.
"We are not so fancy as to have a live-in medic, but I'll call on the neighbourhood physic. After that, you can spend the night, Peg, and we will have a chat about your future when you're feeling better tomorrow. We'll have you sorted out, don't worry."
@squire-quill
Quill shrugs. He hasn't really been trying to lie well. "Thank you, Ser."
He looks at Peg. "... what do you think? You can get some rest and something to eat, and then talk in the morning."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg scowls and turns his face away from Quill.
He wants to feel justified in staying mad at Quill for tricking him into coming here. But... he has to admit, it's not actually been that bad, so far. Ser Bec isn't pushing him to tell tales on Ser Derek. And it sounds as if the KPS somehow knew quite a bit about Sir Derek already. So whatever Ser Bec is going to do about him, they were going to do it anyway.
He wishes they wouldn't. It'll only make things worse. But clearly they will, and Peg doesn't want to be there when it goes down.
So maybe it's better to be here instead. Just for a little while.
"Yeah," he says reluctantly, his shoulders drooping a little. "Alright."
@basicbascinet
"Damn, kid, you don't have to sound like we are sending you to the gallows. The beds are pretty good and I'll have you know that Madam Sierra's food is amazing. Now, it's late and I still have to get the medic and find George. I'll have Eloah show you one of the spare rooms. They're the squire who met you at the door." Bec gets up and goes around the desk. It seems like they're about to give Peg a friendly pat on the shoulder, but remembers his injury just in time.
"You can stay as well, Quill. I was told you're about to become Sir Thorn's squire, so I'd like to hear from you once in a while." They aren't sure what kind of instruction Thorn would provide to the squire. It's possible it won't be anything concerning, but they're not taking any chances.
@squire-quill
Quill blinks. "I'm what? I'm - no, I'm just - like, training. With the royal guards. There's nothing official, or anything." He shrugs uncomfortably. "I'll stay, though. Just for tonight." He has no intention of leaving Peg here by himself.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg's head whips around. "Oh, don't you deny it," he snaps at Quill, going to fold his arms and then wincing and changing his mind. He doesn't let the twinge of pain stop him. "Nobody is talking about anything except you and your precious Knight Captain, and all the ways he wants to train you." Peg's good hand flies up to describe a quick set of air quotes. "You've got some nerve, trying to play innocent!"
@basicbascinet
Having settled the situation to their satisfaction, Bec was ready to leave, but Peg's outburst quickly sacked that idea.
"Excuse me? They are saying what about Captain Thorn's training?"
Oh, they have to get that guy. He can't keep getting away with this. But from what the squires had shown, both were as likely to lie to his face than help any investigation.
"... I changed my mind. Quill, I want you to report in person weekly without fault. If you are unable to, I expect an explanation. And should any incidents with the Captain arise... I hope you will tell me."
@squire-quill
Quill puffs up indignantly, glaring furiously at Peg. "He's just repeating a bunch of shit from the mouths of morons!" he snaps. "All the other squires do is chat bullshit. Unless you're going to agree with George, Peg, and say that the only reason the Knight Captain wants me as a squire is to fuck me? He's jealous and he doesn't know what he's talking about," he adds to Bec, scowling. "Knight Captain Thorn hasn't done anything. We sparred and he was careful not to hurt me. And he hasn't done anything else, either. And anyway, like I said: I'm not his squire. I'm just training with his guards, that's all."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg facefaults at Ser Bec's scandalised reaction. Why should Ser Bec care if Quill and the Knight Captain are going to fuck?
But clearly they do, and between their grim determination and Quill's angry outburst, Peg sinks down in his seat again.
"I never said he only wants to fuck you," he mutters sulkily. "Yeah, the Captain probably does want to train you. Going to spar with you a whole bunch, I bet. Maybe buy you flowers and take you to dinner too, I don't know."
@basicbascinet
"Stop. Talking. Both of you." Somehow, the Captain doesn't strike Bec as the dinner and flowers type. But that is besides the point. They could already feel a migraine coming in. "I don't give a shit about who said what. Quill, I want to see your face once a week. You can come here, or I can go meet you in front of the royal guards. Your choice. Peg, stop riling him up and go find a room. I will go find the medic and when I come back no one better be fighting."
They huff and shake their head, then leave at a brisk pace.
@squire-quill
"Now look, you scared them off," Quill mutters. "You heard them, find a room."
He can't help himself, though. "The Captain isn't going to take me to dinner and give me flowers, anyway, that's stupid. But why would that even bother you if he did? You fuck other people all the time!" He does at least lower his voice for this.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg would have been content to follow Ser Bec's order to find a room. But hearing Quill repeat it makes him immediately want to do anything but, and Quill's further comments just take the biscuit.
"Says who?" he demands, bridling. "Now who's going around believing things just because he heard them from Fucking George?"
"Said literally you the first time we fucked!" Quill hisses. "You were all like 'ooooooh do you really think this is the first time I'm doing this with someone, ooooh'...." The silly voice really adds something, he thinks.
"You weren't my first fuck, no," Peg hisses. "And you parsed that as me fucking other people all the time, did you? Incredible logic. Do you also believe all men are kings, on account of how all kings are men?"
Then Peg blinks, and his expression falters.
"Wait. What do you mean, the first time we fucked. We've only fucked once."
He stares, hope suddenly swelling in his chest Quill is talking as if it's something they're going to do again. As if he still wants to.
Quill blinks - then scowls at him, flushing red. "Yeah, well, you know what I mean," he mutters. "When we fucked. Whatever. Just - find yourself a stupid room. I'll sleep on the floor or whatever."
He waves a hand vaguely, still scowling, and looks away. "... and maybe that wasn't the first time you fucked someone. What else was I meant to think, exactly? You were doing the whole 'oh you're not special' thing. So you definitely made it sound like you do it all the time. So obviously I thought it was no big deal."
"Well I only said it like that because you kept coming up with bullshit reasons not to rail me! I thought you were trying to protect my fucking virtue or something!" Peg says, gesticulating wildly with his good arm. "I didn't know about you then, did I? So you can't - "
And then Peg pulls up abruptly as it sinks in. He stares at Quill for a moment, processing. "Wait. Quill. I was meaning to ask, actually; before... everything. Is there... anyone else who knows about you?"
He's been pretty sure of the answer for a while, but the implications of it never occurred to him. His eyes widen and he leans forward, peering at Quill closely. "Had you ever done that, before me?"
"Doesn't fucking matter, does it?" Quill says irritably. "I've, like - made out with people, or whatever, but -" He shrugs, grouchy. "And no, no-one else knows about me. Obviously my parents or whatever. My family. But no-one here."
He sidesteps Peg abruptly and stalks off. "If you're not looking for a room for you, then I am."
Peg heroically swallows the question of who exactly Quill has been making out with. Some things are more important, and Peg prides himself on his maturity.
"I'm not going to tell anyone, you know," he says, getting up and trailing after Quill. "About any of it. It's none of anyone else's business, is it. And - " He hesitates. "I really didn't mean to tell Ser Bec all that stuff about the Knight Captain. Or at least, I didn't think they'd care."
"Yeah and now I get a weekly check-in for something which isn't even happening," Quill says, rolling his eyes. "... I know you're not going to tell anyone. Not about that, anyway." He glances at Peg, frowning. "... but if you listen to Ser Bec about the Sir Derek stuff, then I'll listen to her too. Deal?"
"You'll listen to them how?" Peg catches up to Quill, trotting along at his side and taking four steps for every three of Quill's long-legged strides. "You mean you... you won't get involved with Captain Thorn?" He sounds a little incredulous.
"... no, I mean I'll check in with them once a week. To tell them all about the things which aren't happening with the Knight Captain." He rolls his eyes. "Seriously. All the Captain's said to me is that I can train with the royal guard. That's literally it. You're making a mountain out of a molehill."
Peg considers this. He still doesn't understand why Ser Bec is so against it (Does Ser Bec want Sir Thorn for themself? That doesn't seem right...) but Quill reporting in weekly with someone who clearly wants to make sure it doesn't fucking happen... well, that certainly doesn't read as a bad outcome to Peg.
"Well... alright then," Peg says, trying to feign at least a little reluctance. "I'll listen to Ser Bec, if you will." It doesn't strike Peg as much of a sacrifice. He didn't see how he was going to get out of having to listen to Ser Bec anyway. It would be tedious and it wouldn't change anything, but a lot of things in life are like that and you just have to put up with them.
"Okay then, deal," Quill says, quietly relieved. He's not equipped to make Peg see sense over the whole Sir Derek thing; he hopes perhaps Bec is. "Now then, room. And getting your arm looked at once she's back with the physic."
He opens a door to a room at random. It seems empty. And there is a bed. "Here?"
Peg shrugs lopsidedly. "Sure." He makes for the bed and plunks himself on the edge and - oh. It's got a little give in it. He fingers the blanket. Oh. It's soft and thick and he immediately wants to lie face down on the bed and hug it. Obviously he's not about to do that in front of Quill, though.
Well. Maybe this won't be so terrible, if he can just keep from thinking about how much worse everything will be when he goes home.
And to that end...
"Quill," he says, rubbing the blanket absently with one hand and looking up at the bigger squire. "Can I ask you something? About your... situation?"
"... yeah?" Quill glances at him, a little warily. "What do you want to know?" He's taken up a position by the door, leaning back against the doorframe with arms folded.
Peg takes a deep breath, lowers his voice, and spits out the question that's been on his mind ever since Quill princess-carried him back to barracks after edging him within an inch of his life.
"Will you tell me why you don't have a dick? Did you get injured, or did you used to be a girl, or... or what?" Peg's cheeks are reddening, but he doesn't look away. "I'm not trying to be nosy. You don't have to tell me. I mostly just want to know if getting you off at some point is something that's on the cards... or if I should just try to stop thinking about that now. That's all."
Quill scowls, reddening. "... used to be a girl," he says grudgingly. "I mean, I guess. Everything I've got down there works, just-" He shrugs awkwardly. "It's not what I wanted to use on you right then. Like you said, you were wanting to be railed. My - railing equipment is lacking, currently."
He pauses, then eyes Peg, smirking despite himself. "You've been thinking about getting me off, huh?"
[George had waited until late to catch Peg as he was about to return home to sleep. He runs at him and twists the boy's arm behind his back]
Finally came out of your hole, you little rat? That's what you do, ain't it, run and hide and be a waste of food, just like a rat. Except you keep making pathetic crying faces at anyone until they decide to fuck you instead of snapping your neck like they should. [He twists the arm harder] Useless fucking bitch.
Go on, say you are a little whore rat. Or I'm gonna keep going until you snap like a twig. Say it, loudly! Say it!
When he hears the running footsteps, Peg's first thought is that it's @squire-quill, and his heart leaps. Stupid heart.
He starts to turn, but then his arm is being grabbed, and the twist is too sharp, and the voice definitely isn't Quill's. In his shock, it takes Peg a second to place it.
Fucking George. Oh shit.
"What the fuck - let go of me - "
Then George twists harder, and a thin shriek bursts out of Peg. He dances up onto tiptoes, staggering, trying to relieve some of the awful pressure. It feels as if his shoulder is about to pop out of its socket.
"Fuck!" Peg throws dignity to the winds. "I'm a - I'malittlewhoreratletgoLETGO - "
Tears are dribbling out of the corners of his eyes. He gasps, trying to keep his balance on his toes. He can't maintain it. He's going to fall at any second, and the wrench to his shoulder when he goes down will be potent.
The kick to the back of George's knee comes as a surprise, since he's too focused on tormenting Peg to be watching his back: his first mistake. His second mistake is not letting go of Peg's arm fast enough. As he crumples with a howl, still gripping onto the other squire's arm, Quill punches him full in the face, knocking him down.
"I told you-" a kick to his ribs, hard "-you don't call him that. You do not fucking get to call him that." Another kick to his stomach before Quill just throws himself down on top of George.
The beating is grim, thorough and almost methodical. Quill doesn't seem particularly angry at this point; his jaw is set as he straddles George, holding the other squire down in order to better break his nose as if he's performing a somewhat unpleasant but necessary task.
"Your turn," he hisses into George's ear once he's more or less done beating him to a bloody pulp. "You say it. Go on. I'm a little whore rat. Say it, and maybe I won't fucking kill you." He drags the squire's head up by the hair. George just gurgles, dripping bloody saliva onto the floor through broken teeth. Quill snorts, then drops him, straightening up.
He looks at Peg, catching his breath. "... did he hurt you?"
Peg isn't particularly good at doling out violence, but he's accustomed to the sight of it. Squiring in general will do that for you, and particularly so if you did a stint for a bloodthirsty knight out on chevauchée.
So Peg flinches and looks on with a kind of awestruck detachment as Quill reduces George's face to a bloody paste. He grips his sore arm near the shoulder and moves the joint a little, almost absently, assessing the degree of damage.
His ears are ringing. The whole scene seems covered in a faint sheen of unreality. He feels as if he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. He checks behind him - maybe George has an accomplice? - but there's no one else.
And then Quill is speaking to him. As though they're - as though they're people who are speaking to each other.
They're not. Not really. But Peg is a bit too shaken to stick to it right now, and Quill did just beat five colours of snot out of George for him, so Peg takes a breath and opens his mouth to reply.
To his very great embarrassment, he starts weeping instead.
Quill grimaces, suddenly awkward. Peg is Crying. That is not a thing he's good at dealing with.
"Hey. It's okay. Are you hurt? Do you need to go to a healer?" He heads over. But Peg's mad at him, so instead of pulling him into a hug like he wants to, he just pats him awkwardly on the head.
"Fine, I'm fine," Peg chokes, scrubbing furiously at his cheeks. "I'm just being an idiot - hey, what are you - " He cringes away from Quill's first pat, then falls awkwardly still, submitting to the rest while trying to smooth the hitches out of his breath. It feels wrong and stupid. But... sort of nice, all the same.
Everything about Quill feels like that.
Peg takes a steadying breath. "No serious damage," he says more evenly, though there's still a slight tremble in his voice. "Just some pulled muscles, I think. It could have been much worse."
Peg had been sure it was going to be so much worse. And then Quill had appeared out of nowhere and just -
Peg blushes from his collar to the roots of his hair.
"Thank you," he whispers. "That was - you were incredible. Like a proper knight. I knew you were good, from training, but - " He glances at George's mangled form, lying face down a few yards away. "You demolished him."
Quill shrugs, glancing down at George. "That's not exactly from training," he mutters. "I'm just really good at beating the shit out of people."
He eyes Peg for a moment longer, then - giving up - he wraps one arm carefully around his shoulders. He begins to walk, drawing Peg with him. "C'mon. Someone'll know if that needs looking at."
Peg doesn't quite mean to allow himself to be led anywhere, but Quill is warm and easy to lean into and then it's just sort of happening.
"What do you mean, looking at?" he mumbles, sliding his arm around Quill's waist. He's not sure he's forgiven Quill, exactly, but it's awkward to walk along with his elbow banging into the other squire's side. It's just practical. And... sort of cosy and nice. But that's not why he's doing it.
"Your arm. If it's hurt or whatever. And maybe he can like, give you somewhere to sleep overnight or something. So you don't have to go places when you're all shaken up. ... and something to eat. Or something."
If he's honest Quill isn't sure the KPS will do any of this, but it's worth a try. And it's not like he has a great many other places to take him.
"Overnight?" Peg stops, frowning. "I don't need somewhere to stay. I just need to go home..."
But that isn't an entirely comfortable thought either. Because the truth is, he should have gone home hours ago. Instead he spent half the afternoon hiding in a castle storage room, trying to avoid the KPS and the Chancellor and George and probably half a dozen other people who've been trying to track him down so they can give him a hard time.
He's tired, he's overwrought, and the thought of imminently having to explain to Sir Derek why there's nothing but bread and cheese for dinner isn't appealing.
He drops his eyes and starts walking again. "Actually, yeah, you know what. Alright."
"... I'll check on Sir Derek for you, if you're worried," Quill says, doing his best not to sneer at the name. "I'll tell him you're doing chores for someone important or something. Whatever would make him proud." And whatever would make him not ask questions or be mad at Peg.
"Oh, thank you, but no, don't do that," Peg says hurriedly. "He won't worry. He's, um, he's used to me staying out overnight now and then..."
Peg falters as he realises too late how the implications of this bare-faced lie will land for Quill, but he can't take it back now. What matters most is that Sir Derek not open the door to find a squire in his doorstep claiming to be Peg's friend. Absolutely nothing good can come of that when Peg gets home.
"... right," Quill says, impressively unfrostily. "Then I guess we'll just find you a bed for the night."
The rest of their journey is completed in silence. The building they eventually reach is the KPS headquarters. Quill leads Peg up and bangs on the door. "Hi. Um. We're looking for Ser Bec."
( @basicbascinet )
A willowy young person opens the door. They raise their brows when they see Peg.
"Oh, hey, you're that squire that has been running from Sir Bec for some reason. Come on in! I'll go get them." They look pointedly at Quill's bloodied fists. "Are you guys ok? Seems like you've been in trouble."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Ser Bec?
Peg stares unseeingly into the warmly lit interior. No. He thought they were going somewhere safe. This place is a trap, and if he steps inside, it will snap shut.
He pulls himself free of Quill with a wounded sideways look.
"This was a mistake. I need to go."
He turns and begins walking.
@squire-quill
"Nope." Quill grabs him around the middle, lifting him off his feet so he can't escape. He leans to address the... squire? Whoever the fuck this is. "Yeah, we'll talk to Ser Bec. Thanks." He walks inside, carrying Peg with him.
@basicbascinet
(Peg freezes when Quill grabs him off his feet. He doesn't struggle, or protest, or breathe; but a grunt lodges in his throat. As they cross the threshold, he grabs desperately at Quill's shoulders to take some of the weight off his middle. He's gone pale.)
@basicbascinet
Quill puts him down immediately, though he's still holding him in place to stop him from running. "What's wrong? Are you injured?" He eyes Peg worriedly. "I thought it was just your arm."
@basicbascinet
The squire gives Peg a funny look, like they want to laugh but feel bad about it. "Hey. Hey, Peg, is it? You don't need to look like we're about to flay you, you know. Sir Bec can be a bit of a grump, but they're not that scary. They just wanted to talk to you."
They leave momentarily, but soon run back, beckoning them from around a corner. "Come to the office, both of you! This way!".
The office is bare and well-organized. There's a cabinet labeled "No longer my problem" in the corner from which come rustling noises. As if a cat was busy shredding a bunch of paper. Bec is sitting by the desk.
"There you are. I'm surprised you came around after all that running. Take a seat. You too, Quill, is it?"
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg is avoiding Quill's questions, and avoiding his eyes too. He doesn't particularly want to look at Ser Bec's irritatingly self-assured squire either, and he definitely doesn't want to look at Ser Bec.
The problem is, Peg can't seem to help liking Ser Bec. The knight is brusque and no-nonsense and... and rather heroic, not just in the ordinary knightly way. Peg admires Ser Bec a lot. He wants to trust him, even though he knows he can't. And a part of him very much wants Ser Bec to like him.
And that is dangerous.
So Peg squashes it all down as hard as he can, and stares mutely at the floor while he slides into one of the seats.
@squire-quill
"Quill, yeah." He doesn't take a seat, but moves to stand next to Peg, keeping half an eye on him. "... tell them thanks for seeing us, I guess."
He's not sure what to make of this weird, silent version of Peg. He reaches to squeeze his non-injured shoulder gently.
@basicbascinet
Peg's silence isn't exactly encouraging. Did they come willingly, or did the other squire bring him there? Hopefully this wasn't a result of Thorn's weird people-hunting ideas.
"So, why have you two come here? I know enough about Sir Derek to have an intervention planned." Bec frowns. "Did he do something especially bad today?"
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg scowls at the floor. "No." He can pour plenty of self-righteous resentment into that one word, because it's true. He's hardly even seen Sir Derek today.
The silence that follows gives him a little time to process the rest, and to develop an unwilling sliver of curiosity.
"... what's an intervention?" he asks sullenly.
@basicbascinet
"Depends. Can be plenty of things. Usually, it's a stern talk about one's actions. Making sure one won't continue getting blackout drunk all the time. Although I will be honest, I still have half a mind to march over there and kick his sorry arse."
Bec lifts a hand in a preemptive sign to stop.
"Before you defend him, let me tell you this. I get it. You know him better than most and you want to look out for him. Except this isn't something you are equipped to do, and his own pain isn't an excuse for how you've been treated. Having a squire is a privilege and a responsibility. Sir Derek has proven himself unworthy of it. This isn't up for discussion."
Bec looks over to Quill.
"As for you, care to explain the blood?"
@squire-quill
"No, ser," Quill says, arms folded. "There was an issue and it was dealt with. Ser." He knows how this works. He wouldn't say what happened and nor - so help him - would George. Then he pauses, reluctantly. I did beat the shit out of him.
"I did see Squire George tripped and fell over in a suspiciously quiet place near the training yard," he says. "I think he smacked his face into the wall. Unrelatedly, does KPS have a medic or something? I think Peg hurt his shoulder."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Oh right. My shoulder.
Peg had forgotten that was why they were here.
"It's only had a bit of a pull," he mumbles. "Quill's making a fuss, Ser. Thinks it's earned me a - a hot meal and a bedtime story." He intends for it to be scornful, but he's too drained to stick the landing, and it ends up sounding more plaintive than anything.
@basicbascinet
Bec tilts their head in a way one can imagine they are lifting an eyebrow inquisitively at Quill.
"You are a pretty shit liar. So you flattened Squire George's face, did you? I'll send someone over to see to him. You're lucky I can tell what this is about." Whatever George did, it clearly involved hurting Peg, and while Bec won't go so far as to praise Quill for pummelling another squire, they won't chastise him either. Bullies should be ready to face consequences, they think.
"We are not so fancy as to have a live-in medic, but I'll call on the neighbourhood physic. After that, you can spend the night, Peg, and we will have a chat about your future when you're feeling better tomorrow. We'll have you sorted out, don't worry."
@squire-quill
Quill shrugs. He hasn't really been trying to lie well. "Thank you, Ser."
He looks at Peg. "... what do you think? You can get some rest and something to eat, and then talk in the morning."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg scowls and turns his face away from Quill.
He wants to feel justified in staying mad at Quill for tricking him into coming here. But... he has to admit, it's not actually been that bad, so far. Ser Bec isn't pushing him to tell tales on Ser Derek. And it sounds as if the KPS somehow knew quite a bit about Sir Derek already. So whatever Ser Bec is going to do about him, they were going to do it anyway.
He wishes they wouldn't. It'll only make things worse. But clearly they will, and Peg doesn't want to be there when it goes down.
So maybe it's better to be here instead. Just for a little while.
"Yeah," he says reluctantly, his shoulders drooping a little. "Alright."
@basicbascinet
"Damn, kid, you don't have to sound like we are sending you to the gallows. The beds are pretty good and I'll have you know that Madam Sierra's food is amazing. Now, it's late and I still have to get the medic and find George. I'll have Eloah show you one of the spare rooms. They're the squire who met you at the door." Bec gets up and goes around the desk. It seems like they're about to give Peg a friendly pat on the shoulder, but remembers his injury just in time.
"You can stay as well, Quill. I was told you're about to become Sir Thorn's squire, so I'd like to hear from you once in a while." They aren't sure what kind of instruction Thorn would provide to the squire. It's possible it won't be anything concerning, but they're not taking any chances.
@squire-quill
Quill blinks. "I'm what? I'm - no, I'm just - like, training. With the royal guards. There's nothing official, or anything." He shrugs uncomfortably. "I'll stay, though. Just for tonight." He has no intention of leaving Peg here by himself.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg's head whips around. "Oh, don't you deny it," he snaps at Quill, going to fold his arms and then wincing and changing his mind. He doesn't let the twinge of pain stop him. "Nobody is talking about anything except you and your precious Knight Captain, and all the ways he wants to train you." Peg's good hand flies up to describe a quick set of air quotes. "You've got some nerve, trying to play innocent!"
@basicbascinet
Having settled the situation to their satisfaction, Bec was ready to leave, but Peg's outburst quickly sacked that idea.
"Excuse me? They are saying what about Captain Thorn's training?"
Oh, they have to get that guy. He can't keep getting away with this. But from what the squires had shown, both were as likely to lie to his face than help any investigation.
"... I changed my mind. Quill, I want you to report in person weekly without fault. If you are unable to, I expect an explanation. And should any incidents with the Captain arise... I hope you will tell me."
@squire-quill
Quill puffs up indignantly, glaring furiously at Peg. "He's just repeating a bunch of shit from the mouths of morons!" he snaps. "All the other squires do is chat bullshit. Unless you're going to agree with George, Peg, and say that the only reason the Knight Captain wants me as a squire is to fuck me? He's jealous and he doesn't know what he's talking about," he adds to Bec, scowling. "Knight Captain Thorn hasn't done anything. We sparred and he was careful not to hurt me. And he hasn't done anything else, either. And anyway, like I said: I'm not his squire. I'm just training with his guards, that's all."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg facefaults at Ser Bec's scandalised reaction. Why should Ser Bec care if Quill and the Knight Captain are going to fuck?
But clearly they do, and between their grim determination and Quill's angry outburst, Peg sinks down in his seat again.
"I never said he only wants to fuck you," he mutters sulkily. "Yeah, the Captain probably does want to train you. Going to spar with you a whole bunch, I bet. Maybe buy you flowers and take you to dinner too, I don't know."
@basicbascinet
"Stop. Talking. Both of you." Somehow, the Captain doesn't strike Bec as the dinner and flowers type. But that is besides the point. They could already feel a migraine coming in. "I don't give a shit about who said what. Quill, I want to see your face once a week. You can come here, or I can go meet you in front of the royal guards. Your choice. Peg, stop riling him up and go find a room. I will go find the medic and when I come back no one better be fighting."
They huff and shake their head, then leave at a brisk pace.
@squire-quill
"Now look, you scared them off," Quill mutters. "You heard them, find a room."
He can't help himself, though. "The Captain isn't going to take me to dinner and give me flowers, anyway, that's stupid. But why would that even bother you if he did? You fuck other people all the time!" He does at least lower his voice for this.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg would have been content to follow Ser Bec's order to find a room. But hearing Quill repeat it makes him immediately want to do anything but, and Quill's further comments just take the biscuit.
"Says who?" he demands, bridling. "Now who's going around believing things just because he heard them from Fucking George?"
"Said literally you the first time we fucked!" Quill hisses. "You were all like 'ooooooh do you really think this is the first time I'm doing this with someone, ooooh'...." The silly voice really adds something, he thinks.
"You weren't my first fuck, no," Peg hisses. "And you parsed that as me fucking other people all the time, did you? Incredible logic. Do you also believe all men are kings, on account of how all kings are men?"
Then Peg blinks, and his expression falters.
"Wait. What do you mean, the first time we fucked. We've only fucked once."
He stares, hope suddenly swelling in his chest Quill is talking as if it's something they're going to do again. As if he still wants to.
Quill blinks - then scowls at him, flushing red. "Yeah, well, you know what I mean," he mutters. "When we fucked. Whatever. Just - find yourself a stupid room. I'll sleep on the floor or whatever."
He waves a hand vaguely, still scowling, and looks away. "... and maybe that wasn't the first time you fucked someone. What else was I meant to think, exactly? You were doing the whole 'oh you're not special' thing. So you definitely made it sound like you do it all the time. So obviously I thought it was no big deal."
"Well I only said it like that because you kept coming up with bullshit reasons not to rail me! I thought you were trying to protect my fucking virtue or something!" Peg says, gesticulating wildly with his good arm. "I didn't know about you then, did I? So you can't - "
And then Peg pulls up abruptly as it sinks in. He stares at Quill for a moment, processing. "Wait. Quill. I was meaning to ask, actually; before... everything. Is there... anyone else who knows about you?"
He's been pretty sure of the answer for a while, but the implications of it never occurred to him. His eyes widen and he leans forward, peering at Quill closely. "Had you ever done that, before me?"
"Doesn't fucking matter, does it?" Quill says irritably. "I've, like - made out with people, or whatever, but -" He shrugs, grouchy. "And no, no-one else knows about me. Obviously my parents or whatever. My family. But no-one here."
He sidesteps Peg abruptly and stalks off. "If you're not looking for a room for you, then I am."
Peg heroically swallows the question of who exactly Quill has been making out with. Some things are more important, and Peg prides himself on his maturity.
"I'm not going to tell anyone, you know," he says, getting up and trailing after Quill. "About any of it. It's none of anyone else's business, is it. And - " He hesitates. "I really didn't mean to tell Ser Bec all that stuff about the Knight Captain. Or at least, I didn't think they'd care."
"Yeah and now I get a weekly check-in for something which isn't even happening," Quill says, rolling his eyes. "... I know you're not going to tell anyone. Not about that, anyway." He glances at Peg, frowning. "... but if you listen to Ser Bec about the Sir Derek stuff, then I'll listen to her too. Deal?"
"You'll listen to them how?" Peg catches up to Quill, trotting along at his side and taking four steps for every three of Quill's long-legged strides. "You mean you... you won't get involved with Captain Thorn?" He sounds a little incredulous.
"... no, I mean I'll check in with them once a week. To tell them all about the things which aren't happening with the Knight Captain." He rolls his eyes. "Seriously. All the Captain's said to me is that I can train with the royal guard. That's literally it. You're making a mountain out of a molehill."
Peg considers this. He still doesn't understand why Ser Bec is so against it (Does Ser Bec want Sir Thorn for themself? That doesn't seem right...) but Quill reporting in weekly with someone who clearly wants to make sure it doesn't fucking happen... well, that certainly doesn't read as a bad outcome to Peg.
"Well... alright then," Peg says, trying to feign at least a little reluctance. "I'll listen to Ser Bec, if you will." It doesn't strike Peg as much of a sacrifice. He didn't see how he was going to get out of having to listen to Ser Bec anyway. It would be tedious and it wouldn't change anything, but a lot of things in life are like that and you just have to put up with them.
"Okay then, deal," Quill says, quietly relieved. He's not equipped to make Peg see sense over the whole Sir Derek thing; he hopes perhaps Bec is. "Now then, room. And getting your arm looked at once she's back with the physic."
He opens a door to a room at random. It seems empty. And there is a bed. "Here?"
Peg shrugs lopsidedly. "Sure." He makes for the bed and plunks himself on the edge and - oh. It's got a little give in it. He fingers the blanket. Oh. It's soft and thick and he immediately wants to lie face down on the bed and hug it. Obviously he's not about to do that in front of Quill, though.
Well. Maybe this won't be so terrible, if he can just keep from thinking about how much worse everything will be when he goes home.
And to that end...
"Quill," he says, rubbing the blanket absently with one hand and looking up at the bigger squire. "Can I ask you something? About your... situation?"
"... yeah?" Quill glances at him, a little warily. "What do you want to know?" He's taken up a position by the door, leaning back against the doorframe with arms folded.
[George had waited until late to catch Peg as he was about to return home to sleep. He runs at him and twists the boy's arm behind his back]
Finally came out of your hole, you little rat? That's what you do, ain't it, run and hide and be a waste of food, just like a rat. Except you keep making pathetic crying faces at anyone until they decide to fuck you instead of snapping your neck like they should. [He twists the arm harder] Useless fucking bitch.
Go on, say you are a little whore rat. Or I'm gonna keep going until you snap like a twig. Say it, loudly! Say it!
When he hears the running footsteps, Peg's first thought is that it's @squire-quill, and his heart leaps. Stupid heart.
He starts to turn, but then his arm is being grabbed, and the twist is too sharp, and the voice definitely isn't Quill's. In his shock, it takes Peg a second to place it.
Fucking George. Oh shit.
"What the fuck - let go of me - "
Then George twists harder, and a thin shriek bursts out of Peg. He dances up onto tiptoes, staggering, trying to relieve some of the awful pressure. It feels as if his shoulder is about to pop out of its socket.
"Fuck!" Peg throws dignity to the winds. "I'm a - I'malittlewhoreratletgoLETGO - "
Tears are dribbling out of the corners of his eyes. He gasps, trying to keep his balance on his toes. He can't maintain it. He's going to fall at any second, and the wrench to his shoulder when he goes down will be potent.
The kick to the back of George's knee comes as a surprise, since he's too focused on tormenting Peg to be watching his back: his first mistake. His second mistake is not letting go of Peg's arm fast enough. As he crumples with a howl, still gripping onto the other squire's arm, Quill punches him full in the face, knocking him down.
"I told you-" a kick to his ribs, hard "-you don't call him that. You do not fucking get to call him that." Another kick to his stomach before Quill just throws himself down on top of George.
The beating is grim, thorough and almost methodical. Quill doesn't seem particularly angry at this point; his jaw is set as he straddles George, holding the other squire down in order to better break his nose as if he's performing a somewhat unpleasant but necessary task.
"Your turn," he hisses into George's ear once he's more or less done beating him to a bloody pulp. "You say it. Go on. I'm a little whore rat. Say it, and maybe I won't fucking kill you." He drags the squire's head up by the hair. George just gurgles, dripping bloody saliva onto the floor through broken teeth. Quill snorts, then drops him, straightening up.
He looks at Peg, catching his breath. "... did he hurt you?"
Peg isn't particularly good at doling out violence, but he's accustomed to the sight of it. Squiring in general will do that for you, and particularly so if you did a stint for a bloodthirsty knight out on chevauchée.
So Peg flinches and looks on with a kind of awestruck detachment as Quill reduces George's face to a bloody paste. He grips his sore arm near the shoulder and moves the joint a little, almost absently, assessing the degree of damage.
His ears are ringing. The whole scene seems covered in a faint sheen of unreality. He feels as if he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. He checks behind him - maybe George has an accomplice? - but there's no one else.
And then Quill is speaking to him. As though they're - as though they're people who are speaking to each other.
They're not. Not really. But Peg is a bit too shaken to stick to it right now, and Quill did just beat five colours of snot out of George for him, so Peg takes a breath and opens his mouth to reply.
To his very great embarrassment, he starts weeping instead.
Quill grimaces, suddenly awkward. Peg is Crying. That is not a thing he's good at dealing with.
"Hey. It's okay. Are you hurt? Do you need to go to a healer?" He heads over. But Peg's mad at him, so instead of pulling him into a hug like he wants to, he just pats him awkwardly on the head.
"Fine, I'm fine," Peg chokes, scrubbing furiously at his cheeks. "I'm just being an idiot - hey, what are you - " He cringes away from Quill's first pat, then falls awkwardly still, submitting to the rest while trying to smooth the hitches out of his breath. It feels wrong and stupid. But... sort of nice, all the same.
Everything about Quill feels like that.
Peg takes a steadying breath. "No serious damage," he says more evenly, though there's still a slight tremble in his voice. "Just some pulled muscles, I think. It could have been much worse."
Peg had been sure it was going to be so much worse. And then Quill had appeared out of nowhere and just -
Peg blushes from his collar to the roots of his hair.
"Thank you," he whispers. "That was - you were incredible. Like a proper knight. I knew you were good, from training, but - " He glances at George's mangled form, lying face down a few yards away. "You demolished him."
Quill shrugs, glancing down at George. "That's not exactly from training," he mutters. "I'm just really good at beating the shit out of people."
He eyes Peg for a moment longer, then - giving up - he wraps one arm carefully around his shoulders. He begins to walk, drawing Peg with him. "C'mon. Someone'll know if that needs looking at."
Peg doesn't quite mean to allow himself to be led anywhere, but Quill is warm and easy to lean into and then it's just sort of happening.
"What do you mean, looking at?" he mumbles, sliding his arm around Quill's waist. He's not sure he's forgiven Quill, exactly, but it's awkward to walk along with his elbow banging into the other squire's side. It's just practical. And... sort of cosy and nice. But that's not why he's doing it.
"Your arm. If it's hurt or whatever. And maybe he can like, give you somewhere to sleep overnight or something. So you don't have to go places when you're all shaken up. ... and something to eat. Or something."
If he's honest Quill isn't sure the KPS will do any of this, but it's worth a try. And it's not like he has a great many other places to take him.
"Overnight?" Peg stops, frowning. "I don't need somewhere to stay. I just need to go home..."
But that isn't an entirely comfortable thought either. Because the truth is, he should have gone home hours ago. Instead he spent half the afternoon hiding in a castle storage room, trying to avoid the KPS and the Chancellor and George and probably half a dozen other people who've been trying to track him down so they can give him a hard time.
He's tired, he's overwrought, and the thought of imminently having to explain to Sir Derek why there's nothing but bread and cheese for dinner isn't appealing.
He drops his eyes and starts walking again. "Actually, yeah, you know what. Alright."
"... I'll check on Sir Derek for you, if you're worried," Quill says, doing his best not to sneer at the name. "I'll tell him you're doing chores for someone important or something. Whatever would make him proud." And whatever would make him not ask questions or be mad at Peg.
"Oh, thank you, but no, don't do that," Peg says hurriedly. "He won't worry. He's, um, he's used to me staying out overnight now and then..."
Peg falters as he realises too late how the implications of this bare-faced lie will land for Quill, but he can't take it back now. What matters most is that Sir Derek not open the door to find a squire in his doorstep claiming to be Peg's friend. Absolutely nothing good can come of that when Peg gets home.
"... right," Quill says, impressively unfrostily. "Then I guess we'll just find you a bed for the night."
The rest of their journey is completed in silence. The building they eventually reach is the KPS headquarters. Quill leads Peg up and bangs on the door. "Hi. Um. We're looking for Ser Bec."
( @basicbascinet )
A willowy young person opens the door. They raise their brows when they see Peg.
"Oh, hey, you're that squire that has been running from Sir Bec for some reason. Come on in! I'll go get them." They look pointedly at Quill's bloodied fists. "Are you guys ok? Seems like you've been in trouble."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Ser Bec?
Peg stares unseeingly into the warmly lit interior. No. He thought they were going somewhere safe. This place is a trap, and if he steps inside, it will snap shut.
He pulls himself free of Quill with a wounded sideways look.
"This was a mistake. I need to go."
He turns and begins walking.
@squire-quill
"Nope." Quill grabs him around the middle, lifting him off his feet so he can't escape. He leans to address the... squire? Whoever the fuck this is. "Yeah, we'll talk to Ser Bec. Thanks." He walks inside, carrying Peg with him.
@basicbascinet
(Peg freezes when Quill grabs him off his feet. He doesn't struggle, or protest, or breathe; but a grunt lodges in his throat. As they cross the threshold, he grabs desperately at Quill's shoulders to take some of the weight off his middle. He's gone pale.)
@basicbascinet
Quill puts him down immediately, though he's still holding him in place to stop him from running. "What's wrong? Are you injured?" He eyes Peg worriedly. "I thought it was just your arm."
@basicbascinet
The squire gives Peg a funny look, like they want to laugh but feel bad about it. "Hey. Hey, Peg, is it? You don't need to look like we're about to flay you, you know. Sir Bec can be a bit of a grump, but they're not that scary. They just wanted to talk to you."
They leave momentarily, but soon run back, beckoning them from around a corner. "Come to the office, both of you! This way!".
The office is bare and well-organized. There's a cabinet labeled "No longer my problem" in the corner from which come rustling noises. As if a cat was busy shredding a bunch of paper. Bec is sitting by the desk.
"There you are. I'm surprised you came around after all that running. Take a seat. You too, Quill, is it?"
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg is avoiding Quill's questions, and avoiding his eyes too. He doesn't particularly want to look at Ser Bec's irritatingly self-assured squire either, and he definitely doesn't want to look at Ser Bec.
The problem is, Peg can't seem to help liking Ser Bec. The knight is brusque and no-nonsense and... and rather heroic, not just in the ordinary knightly way. Peg admires Ser Bec a lot. He wants to trust him, even though he knows he can't. And a part of him very much wants Ser Bec to like him.
And that is dangerous.
So Peg squashes it all down as hard as he can, and stares mutely at the floor while he slides into one of the seats.
@squire-quill
"Quill, yeah." He doesn't take a seat, but moves to stand next to Peg, keeping half an eye on him. "... tell them thanks for seeing us, I guess."
He's not sure what to make of this weird, silent version of Peg. He reaches to squeeze his non-injured shoulder gently.
@basicbascinet
Peg's silence isn't exactly encouraging. Did they come willingly, or did the other squire bring him there? Hopefully this wasn't a result of Thorn's weird people-hunting ideas.
"So, why have you two come here? I know enough about Sir Derek to have an intervention planned." Bec frowns. "Did he do something especially bad today?"
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg scowls at the floor. "No." He can pour plenty of self-righteous resentment into that one word, because it's true. He's hardly even seen Sir Derek today.
The silence that follows gives him a little time to process the rest, and to develop an unwilling sliver of curiosity.
"... what's an intervention?" he asks sullenly.
@basicbascinet
"Depends. Can be plenty of things. Usually, it's a stern talk about one's actions. Making sure one won't continue getting blackout drunk all the time. Although I will be honest, I still have half a mind to march over there and kick his sorry arse."
Bec lifts a hand in a preemptive sign to stop.
"Before you defend him, let me tell you this. I get it. You know him better than most and you want to look out for him. Except this isn't something you are equipped to do, and his own pain isn't an excuse for how you've been treated. Having a squire is a privilege and a responsibility. Sir Derek has proven himself unworthy of it. This isn't up for discussion."
Bec looks over to Quill.
"As for you, care to explain the blood?"
@squire-quill
"No, ser," Quill says, arms folded. "There was an issue and it was dealt with. Ser." He knows how this works. He wouldn't say what happened and nor - so help him - would George. Then he pauses, reluctantly. I did beat the shit out of him.
"I did see Squire George tripped and fell over in a suspiciously quiet place near the training yard," he says. "I think he smacked his face into the wall. Unrelatedly, does KPS have a medic or something? I think Peg hurt his shoulder."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Oh right. My shoulder.
Peg had forgotten that was why they were here.
"It's only had a bit of a pull," he mumbles. "Quill's making a fuss, Ser. Thinks it's earned me a - a hot meal and a bedtime story." He intends for it to be scornful, but he's too drained to stick the landing, and it ends up sounding more plaintive than anything.
@basicbascinet
Bec tilts their head in a way one can imagine they are lifting an eyebrow inquisitively at Quill.
"You are a pretty shit liar. So you flattened Squire George's face, did you? I'll send someone over to see to him. You're lucky I can tell what this is about." Whatever George did, it clearly involved hurting Peg, and while Bec won't go so far as to praise Quill for pummelling another squire, they won't chastise him either. Bullies should be ready to face consequences, they think.
"We are not so fancy as to have a live-in medic, but I'll call on the neighbourhood physic. After that, you can spend the night, Peg, and we will have a chat about your future when you're feeling better tomorrow. We'll have you sorted out, don't worry."
@squire-quill
Quill shrugs. He hasn't really been trying to lie well. "Thank you, Ser."
He looks at Peg. "... what do you think? You can get some rest and something to eat, and then talk in the morning."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg scowls and turns his face away from Quill.
He wants to feel justified in staying mad at Quill for tricking him into coming here. But... he has to admit, it's not actually been that bad, so far. Ser Bec isn't pushing him to tell tales on Ser Derek. And it sounds as if the KPS somehow knew quite a bit about Sir Derek already. So whatever Ser Bec is going to do about him, they were going to do it anyway.
He wishes they wouldn't. It'll only make things worse. But clearly they will, and Peg doesn't want to be there when it goes down.
So maybe it's better to be here instead. Just for a little while.
"Yeah," he says reluctantly, his shoulders drooping a little. "Alright."
@basicbascinet
"Damn, kid, you don't have to sound like we are sending you to the gallows. The beds are pretty good and I'll have you know that Madam Sierra's food is amazing. Now, it's late and I still have to get the medic and find George. I'll have Eloah show you one of the spare rooms. They're the squire who met you at the door." Bec gets up and goes around the desk. It seems like they're about to give Peg a friendly pat on the shoulder, but remembers his injury just in time.
"You can stay as well, Quill. I was told you're about to become Sir Thorn's squire, so I'd like to hear from you once in a while." They aren't sure what kind of instruction Thorn would provide to the squire. It's possible it won't be anything concerning, but they're not taking any chances.
@squire-quill
Quill blinks. "I'm what? I'm - no, I'm just - like, training. With the royal guards. There's nothing official, or anything." He shrugs uncomfortably. "I'll stay, though. Just for tonight." He has no intention of leaving Peg here by himself.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg's head whips around. "Oh, don't you deny it," he snaps at Quill, going to fold his arms and then wincing and changing his mind. He doesn't let the twinge of pain stop him. "Nobody is talking about anything except you and your precious Knight Captain, and all the ways he wants to train you." Peg's good hand flies up to describe a quick set of air quotes. "You've got some nerve, trying to play innocent!"
@basicbascinet
Having settled the situation to their satisfaction, Bec was ready to leave, but Peg's outburst quickly sacked that idea.
"Excuse me? They are saying what about Captain Thorn's training?"
Oh, they have to get that guy. He can't keep getting away with this. But from what the squires had shown, both were as likely to lie to his face than help any investigation.
"... I changed my mind. Quill, I want you to report in person weekly without fault. If you are unable to, I expect an explanation. And should any incidents with the Captain arise... I hope you will tell me."
@squire-quill
Quill puffs up indignantly, glaring furiously at Peg. "He's just repeating a bunch of shit from the mouths of morons!" he snaps. "All the other squires do is chat bullshit. Unless you're going to agree with George, Peg, and say that the only reason the Knight Captain wants me as a squire is to fuck me? He's jealous and he doesn't know what he's talking about," he adds to Bec, scowling. "Knight Captain Thorn hasn't done anything. We sparred and he was careful not to hurt me. And he hasn't done anything else, either. And anyway, like I said: I'm not his squire. I'm just training with his guards, that's all."
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg facefaults at Ser Bec's scandalised reaction. Why should Ser Bec care if Quill and the Knight Captain are going to fuck?
But clearly they do, and between their grim determination and Quill's angry outburst, Peg sinks down in his seat again.
"I never said he only wants to fuck you," he mutters sulkily. "Yeah, the Captain probably does want to train you. Going to spar with you a whole bunch, I bet. Maybe buy you flowers and take you to dinner too, I don't know."
@basicbascinet
"Stop. Talking. Both of you." Somehow, the Captain doesn't strike Bec as the dinner and flowers type. But that is besides the point. They could already feel a migraine coming in. "I don't give a shit about who said what. Quill, I want to see your face once a week. You can come here, or I can go meet you in front of the royal guards. Your choice. Peg, stop riling him up and go find a room. I will go find the medic and when I come back no one better be fighting."
They huff and shake their head, then leave at a brisk pace.
@squire-quill
"Now look, you scared them off," Quill mutters. "You heard them, find a room."
He can't help himself, though. "The Captain isn't going to take me to dinner and give me flowers, anyway, that's stupid. But why would that even bother you if he did? You fuck other people all the time!" He does at least lower his voice for this.
@squire-peg-in-round-hole
Peg would have been content to follow Ser Bec's order to find a room. But hearing Quill repeat it makes him immediately want to do anything but, and Quill's further comments just take the biscuit.
"Says who?" he demands, bridling. "Now who's going around believing things just because he heard them from Fucking George?"
"Said literally you the first time we fucked!" Quill hisses. "You were all like 'ooooooh do you really think this is the first time I'm doing this with someone, ooooh'...." The silly voice really adds something, he thinks.
"You weren't my first fuck, no," Peg hisses. "And you parsed that as me fucking other people all the time, did you? Incredible logic. Do you also believe all men are kings, on account of how all kings are men?"
Then Peg blinks, and his expression falters.
"Wait. What do you mean, the first time we fucked. We've only fucked once."
He stares, hope suddenly swelling in his chest Quill is talking as if it's something they're going to do again. As if he still wants to.
Quill blinks - then scowls at him, flushing red. "Yeah, well, you know what I mean," he mutters. "When we fucked. Whatever. Just - find yourself a stupid room. I'll sleep on the floor or whatever."
He waves a hand vaguely, still scowling, and looks away. "... and maybe that wasn't the first time you fucked someone. What else was I meant to think, exactly? You were doing the whole 'oh you're not special' thing. So you definitely made it sound like you do it all the time. So obviously I thought it was no big deal."
"Well I only said it like that because you kept coming up with bullshit reasons not to rail me! I thought you were trying to protect my fucking virtue or something!" Peg says, gesticulating wildly with his good arm. "I didn't know about you then, did I? So you can't - "
And then Peg pulls up abruptly as it sinks in. He stares at Quill for a moment, processing. "Wait. Quill. I was meaning to ask, actually; before... everything. Is there... anyone else who knows about you?"
He's been pretty sure of the answer for a while, but the implications of it never occurred to him. His eyes widen and he leans forward, peering at Quill closely. "Had you ever done that, before me?"
"Doesn't fucking matter, does it?" Quill says irritably. "I've, like - made out with people, or whatever, but -" He shrugs, grouchy. "And no, no-one else knows about me. Obviously my parents or whatever. My family. But no-one here."
He sidesteps Peg abruptly and stalks off. "If you're not looking for a room for you, then I am."
Peg heroically swallows the question of who exactly Quill has been making out with. Some things are more important, and Peg prides himself on his maturity.
"I'm not going to tell anyone, you know," he says, getting up and trailing after Quill. "About any of it. It's none of anyone else's business, is it. And - " He hesitates. "I really didn't mean to tell Ser Bec all that stuff about the Knight Captain. Or at least, I didn't think they'd care."
"Yeah and now I get a weekly check-in for something which isn't even happening," Quill says, rolling his eyes. "... I know you're not going to tell anyone. Not about that, anyway." He glances at Peg, frowning. "... but if you listen to Ser Bec about the Sir Derek stuff, then I'll listen to her too. Deal?"
"You'll listen to them how?" Peg catches up to Quill, trotting along at his side and taking four steps for every three of Quill's long-legged strides. "You mean you... you won't get involved with Captain Thorn?" He sounds a little incredulous.
"... no, I mean I'll check in with them once a week. To tell them all about the things which aren't happening with the Knight Captain." He rolls his eyes. "Seriously. All the Captain's said to me is that I can train with the royal guard. That's literally it. You're making a mountain out of a molehill."
Peg considers this. He still doesn't understand why Ser Bec is so against it (Does Ser Bec want Sir Thorn for themself? That doesn't seem right...) but Quill reporting in weekly with someone who clearly wants to make sure it doesn't fucking happen... well, that certainly doesn't read as a bad outcome to Peg.
"Well... alright then," Peg says, trying to feign at least a little reluctance. "I'll listen to Ser Bec, if you will." It doesn't strike Peg as much of a sacrifice. He didn't see how he was going to get out of having to listen to Ser Bec anyway. It would be tedious and it wouldn't change anything, but a lot of things in life are like that and you just have to put up with them.
"Okay then, deal," Quill says, quietly relieved. He's not equipped to make Peg see sense over the whole Sir Derek thing; he hopes perhaps Bec is. "Now then, room. And getting your arm looked at once she's back with the physic."
He opens a door to a room at random. It seems empty. And there is a bed. "Here?"
Why does everyone seem to think I'm a danger to squires? I've never been anything but nice to them.
I think people just don't know when to shut the fuck up.
... uh, Captain. Sir.
