A clock was an important item to take with you, when you went mining.
It kept track of the hours that passed as you dug, deep below the surface, where no natural light could reach. It let you know when to stay down, because it was night, and mobs would be out and roaming. It let you know when it was day, and safe to venture home with your bounty.
Arthur’s clock had been broken for months, now, and he found himself wishing dearly that he’d fixed it already.
“Pleasedon’tlookpleasedon’tlookpleasedon’tlook...” The young man whispered under his breath as he crept across the field. There were a handful of zombies and a skeleton on the other side, milling around, and making his trek home all the more dangerous. The last thing he wanted was to draw their attention.
The zombies, he knew, he could outrun. But the skeleton had a bow and a much longer range, and Arthur had skipped lunch that day in favor of prepping the mineshaft for the rail system he planned to put in. He didn’t have the energy to outrun a cobwebbed Creeper, let alone an arrow in flight-
“Huh-?” Arthur had about two seconds to register the hands - one black, and one tan - that reached around to grab him from behind before the world twisted under his feet, and he suddenly felt weightless.
“...!!” Instead of grass, Arthur’s feet came down hard on oak planks, and his legs buckled, unprepared to hold up his weight. The blond crumpled to the floor with a surprised yelp and a clatter of gear, and a shadow loomed over him.
“Sorry.” Lewis apologized, his expression battling between concern and disappointment. “But that’s what you get for staying out past curfew. Again.”
“It’s not like I meant to...” Arthur grumbled as he picked himself up off the floor, and shuffled over to the armor stands by the door to shrug off his gear. “I just got caught up in the work, that’s all.”
“Arthur, you can’t keep doing this.” Lewis frowned. “It’s bad enough you go down there and mine all on your own - what if something happened? What if there was a cave in, or you broke into a dungeon, or-”
“I know, I know...” Arthur dropped the last of his gear with a tired sigh, and leaned back with his hands on his hips, trying to stretch out a sore muscle. “Gawain gave me the same lecture last night.”
“Then that just makes my point even more.” Lewis hovered after Arthur as the blond headed for the kitchen, hoping to scrounge up a snack before he went up to bed. “Artie, if I hadn’t been waiting up for you tonight, you might’ve gotten caught by those mobs. You would’ve been hurt!”
“I know...” Arthur picked up an apple from the bowl on the counter, and quickly took a bite before he could say anything out of frustration he would regret. “....I’ll fix up my old clock tomorrow.” He promised after a few seconds of silence. “Then, next time, I’ll know if it’s night, and I can sleep down in the waystation where it’s safe.”
“I wish there wasn’t going to be a ‘next time’...but fine.” Lewis relented with a quiet sigh. The compromise wasn’t ideal - not in the slightest - but it at least meant that Arthur wouldn’t be trying to cross the mob-infested plains at two in the morning, and risking his safety just to get home. “I’ll accept that.”
“Great.” Arthur took another bite of the apple, and wandered out of the kitchen. “Now, let’s get to bed...I’m exhausted.” Lewis snorted, and followed after him.
