Chapter 13 of 14 (feat art by @runawayfuture)
Chapter 12
Chapter 11
Chapter 10
Chapter 9
Chapter 8
Chapter 7
Chapter 6
Chapter 5
Chapter 4 (feat art by @runawayfuture)
Chapter 3
Chapter 2
Chapter 1 (Prologue)
Written for @bluelionsbigbang
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Art by @runawayfuture and beta'ed by @chocomd. Posting every Tues, Thurs, and Sat except for the weeks of March 15 and 22.
Rating: M
Summary: Felix, Dimitri, and King Lambert journey to Duscur.
The journey ahead loomed heavy, a weight Felix felt in the pit of his stomach as the royal procession made its way toward Duscur. The sky had begun to dim, thick clouds swirling ominously above as if the very heavens were holding their breath. And yet, as they passed through the gates of Fhirdiad, Felix’s mind remained on the conversation with Rodrigue. His father’s words echoed in his ears: “I’ll watch over you, too.” It felt as though the man had already known what Felix had come to realize—that the future was never as certain as it seemed, even if you had already seen it play out.
The weight of his father’s trust, the promises he had made, and the choices ahead felt suffocating. Felix tightened his grip on the reins, his horse trotting steadily beside Dimitri’s as they made their way toward the outskirts of the castle. He barely registered the passing landmarks, the distant hum of life beyond the royal convoy, his thoughts churning with everything that had happened since he’d crossed the threshold into this twisted timeline he had helped create.
The sun, dimmed behind the rolling clouds, was beginning to set. And thus their first night on the road ended as they set up camp and let their horses drink from the river.
In the morning, Felix awoke early, the dawn at his back, his Levin Sword swinging at his side. He’d take no chances with a weaker weapon. He practiced, hacking against a lonesome tree. Dimitri awoke not long after to copy his movements. Byleth joined them, too, a comforting presence along with her silence. The three of them moved like that in silence for the better part of an hour before breakfast was served, and then they were off again.
It was a journey that took two long days, winding through dense forests and twisting paths, the air growing thinner with each step. The Sacred Gwenhwyvar mountains themselves loomed before them and felt like a place of ancient power, a land where whispers of forgotten gods and old wars still clung to the wind.
Maybe a Dimileth bodyguard au where Jeralt’s crew of mercenaries ends up being recruited to help the king of Faerghus in taking down criminals in nearby territory. Fourteen year old Byleth still helps out, having over three years of mercenary experience and has her hands bloodied, is requested to watch over Dimitri and his friends whenever they go out of the palace due to being near their age but is not obligated to. She still does it though.
King Lambert had been looking into hiring some more muscle for a while. Faerghus has some of the best, most loyal, knights in Fodlan, but it’s good to bring in some new blood and new techniques every once in a while. Mercenaries play dirty a lot, but that just means that his guards will gain experience fighting against people that aren’t usually overly honorable. It’ll be a good lesson.
He doesn’t expect to find THE Captain Jeralt.
He, like everyone else, thought the man had died. He knows instantly that he needs to hire the man. Having one of the most famous knights in history on his side couldn’t be a bad thing, and having him work with some of the guard can only be good even if he eventually decides to leave.
Jeralt isn’t one to turn down a job that pays as well as this. He has mouths to feed, after all, and steady income never hurt anyone. He agrees to work for King Lambert so long as the man keeps quite about him and pays the promised sum. Lambert readily agrees, seeing absolutely no issues with this. After a month or so working together, the King and Jeralt actually become pretty okay friends. They’re not best buddies or anything, but they like each other well enough and can talk about things. So Lambert trusts him pretty well and asks Jeralt to provide one of his most trusted hands to join the royal Prince’s guard when he leaves the palace with his friends.
Jeralt figures this would be good for Byleth.
Byleth is, perhaps, a little young to be a mercenary. Lambert is actually taken about when he first meets her. She’s barely old enough to be using live swords, much less apparently already having a few years of work experience on her hands.
Jeralt just tells Lambert that Byleth is his child and was pretty much trained since she could walk, and the roads are dangerous so she just got caught up in everything. Mercenary work is a hard life.
Lambert can’t really disagree, but he’s still reluctant to put someone so young in the guard. People will talk, and he’s afraid older knights will be insulted having to work with a child.
Jeralt just says she’s around the Prince’s age and can just be a “professional friend or something, Idk, but she’s good and the prince might like a bodyguard that’s around his age.”
Lambert sees his logic, but is reluctant still. But, eventually, he decides to make her the prince’s unofficial bodyguard. He’ll let her interact with Prince Dimitri under the pretense of “both our dads work together and we’re around the same age so maybe try to be friends”, but it’s with the expectation that she’ll guard him.
After the arrangement is made, Byleth is taken to meet Dimitri.
Dimitri is a polite boy (Duscar hasn’t happened yet, so he’s not haunted by darkness and shadows and dead faces). When Lambert and Jeralt introduce him to Byleth and explain what’s happening, he just nods and asks Byleth what she would like to do first? Train? Read books? He knows how to ride horses too.
Dimitri, it turns out, is a lonely boy when his friends aren’t visiting the castle. He has nurses, tutors, and staff, but his only company while he’s father is busy and his step-mother is distant are two or three knights. So Byleth is welcome company for him, even if she’s supposed to be a body guard. She’s a little strange, and doesn’t laugh or smile, but she’s always there when his lessons are over for the day, and she never complains about doing stuff with him. They train together a lot, and read together a lot, and he teaches her how to play a lot of the games his friends taught him, like hop-scotch. His favorite thing to do with her is sit by the fire and tell stories though. She has a lot about living with mercenaries, and he has a lot about Faerghus.
It’s weird she doesn’t know about the church or anything though. But that’s okay, she probably just missed a lot of lessons on the road, so he teaches her about what he knows. It’s nice to share things he knows. He feels like a teacher. So he starts telling her his lessons about maths and history and crests, and she listens patiently, and it’s…nice. He likes her a lot. She’s a good friend. And, secretly, he thinks she might like him too. He hopes so. (And he likes how proud Gustav looks whenever he sees them playing games together. And Captain Jeralt will sometimes just watch them with this sort of amazed look, like all his hopes and dreams are coming true just because Byleth earned how to hop-scotch or kick a ball)
After a while, his friends come to visit him, and he’s excited to introduce his best friends to his new friend.
Glenn like her immediately. She’s more his age, so he likes to sit with her and watch the others play. They’re usually quite, though he does try to drag her into conversation sometimes.
Ingrid thinks she might be the coolest girl she’s ever met. She likes that there’s another girl here, especially a girl that can play in the mud and knows how to beat people up. She likes telling Byleth about knights, and wanting to be a knight, and Byleth nods along.
Sylvain flirts with her at first, because of course he does. But Byleth is blanked faced and unnerves him. Dimitri, protective of his new friend, gets defensive and swats Sylvain away on Byleth’s behalf, telling him to cut it out and leave her alone.
Felix is always ready to fight anyone, anywhere, and demands a duel pretty much right away to see if she REALLY can protect his best friend. He’s not going to trust just ANYBODY with the task, and protecting Dimitri is CLEARLY the most important job in the castle.
Overall, the time Dimitri’s friends are over consists of a lot of duels, and games, and going out to ride horses and muck around in the courtyard. Byleth takes her job seriously and always follows along, watching out for danger. Sometimes there are other guards too, depending on what, exactly, they’re doing outside, but the kids seem to like her and Glenn best.
Eventually his friends always leave to go home, and it’s just the two of them again. But the children always promise to write letters, and they do.
Still, she spends more time with Dimitri than anyone else.
They’re sort of together every day for two years.
Then King Lambert announces that he and the family will be going to Duscar.
The mercenaries are to stay here, because Lambert doesn’t want to seem aggressive for a peaceful arrangement, besides, his wife will be more comfortable with a small handful of knights (she never did warm up to Jeralt, and that’s fine, because Jeralt never warmed up to her either). It shouldn’t be an issues, he bought more than a few knights, and they should be back soon so just work with the castle guards until they get back.
Byleth won’t be going this time, and it’s one of the rare few times she won’t leave the palace with Dimitri. He’s hesitant to go without her, but knows he has to. He promises he’ll be back soon, and that he’ll bring her a present. Glenn is there, and he also grins and says that he’ll bring something too, for all the kiddies and for Byleth.
They don’t come back soon.
Lambert and his wife don’t come back at all.
Jeralt and Byleth hear about Duscar days later. The king is dead, apparently, a riot so bad that all the knights were slaughtered broke out. No one knows if there are any survivors. Jeralt swears like a sailor and demands people go look. Gustav is out of the castle within the hour.
The next time Byleth sees Dimitri, he’s holding hands with a dark-skinned, pale haired, boy as tall as she is. He has a blank look in his blue eyes, and he’s shaking even as the taller boy tries to get him to stop, and his hair is a mess. He cries when he sees her, rushing over and burying his face in her belly and cries and cries and cries. Gustav is there, face visibly heartbroken.
The boy, Dedue he introduces himself as, speaks their language in a broken tongue, but is able to say a lot of people died. Gustav finishes for him, his voice cracking as he explains that everyone except Dimitri died in that attack, and there are mass raids against the Duscan people.
A King Regent, Lambert’s older brother apparently, comes to the castle within a week. He’s a stern looking man, tall and broad shouldered, with a mouth set in a permanent scowl. He has thick frown lines, and he looks like he never smiled once in his life, that he was stuck in perpetual frown. Older knight claimed he was like that even as a child, humorless and stern. He has a talent for running estates, apparently, and is strict about how they’re managed.
He doesn’t like mercenaries, apparently, so Jeralt and his company are turned out of the castle within days of his arrival. They receive compensation pay, and are told not to return to the Faerghus capital.
Dimitri begs his uncle to keep them, because they’re good at their jobs and Byleth is their friend, but it falls on deaf ears. Jeralt’s group is banished. Dimitri hugs Jeralt and Byleth before they leave, promising her that he’ll never forget them. He hands them both a gift, a fur lined coin pouch with the Faerghus emblem sewn into the side, so they’ll never forget him either. And so they can get help, maybe, if they need it. He says it’s a gift, so everyone knows they’re under his protection and people will leave her alone if she’s ever in the market or something, and she can show this to people if she ever needs anything in Faerghus. He wants her to take it, because she’s one of his best friends.
And then they leave. Byleth doesn’t think much of it, she’ll probably never see Dimitri again. Still, she keeps the purse.
Four years later Jeralt and his company are in Rumire Village when a group of bandits attack.
Letters with the King | Lambert & Godric | After the Tournament
I hope that we shall be able to talk freely when away from the sneaky eyes and prodding noses of the London court, you make well to stay away from it, I can only imagine the damage it could do to one’s personality, it seems there is little more than fathers wanting to wed their daughters, Lords and Ladies wanting more land than they know what to do with and a ridiculous amount of well-wishers for my lady wife who would no doubt jump at the chance to be the one to put us both in our graves.
To the vigorous knight and noble friend, Sir Godric, of Wild Moor, I send my fondest greetings, and hope all is well in the North.
My congratulations on your triumphant win at the tourney, and your placing in the other events, I was cheering you on. I would very much like for you to grace us with your presence at court soon enough, the halls are horribly empty without our Lords and Knights present. Be certain to bring Sir Scrimgeour along, too, he is an excellent fighter.
Though I hear you are taking residence in Scotland, not one person seems to be able to tell me where, would you be so kind? I should like to make a stop to see you should I spare the time upon visiting the King of Scots.
Yours,
King Lambert.
______
Were the letter to be read aloud, or perchance by those whom it was not intended for, it would read as a polite letter.
Sir Scrimgeour and myself would be most honored to return to London, there is no greater of an honor then to be summoned by the king.
Scotland has been the lands which I returned home to ever since a boy, it is home. In regards to the name, is a small and developing town, sire, without a name to it as it is in the lands which are still wild and free. The lands are rich but with many a foreign, still quite north of Dunr.
Your most humble servent,
Godric Gryffindor
Yet when it was viewed by the king, and the king himself, the letter would alter itself.
My most kind and fair King,
I beseech you, sire, to pass a low that will end the burning and otherwise inhuman murders of those accused of magical blood.
By the will of God mere mortals are born with gifts and their murder does not right or correct God’s plan. As mere mortals we cannot attempt to ratify what has been laid before us. Instead, sire, to burn them at the stake only condemns our own souls for doing so.
I beseech you further, sire, to look into this matter of magic more to discern that being born of magic is not being born the son or daughter of the devil himself.
Your troubled knight,
Godric Gryffindor
______
He pressed his lips thin as he read the note and snatched up the quill, his handwriting far less neat than it had been before, his irritation showing through.
A commendable feat to be sure, Sir Godric. I fear you assume that I do not know of the goings on outside the walls of my castle, as if I am blind to the world which, I assure you, I am not. While I had not known of the things you have mentioned, as said, I will look into it and do what I can to ensure the safety of my people.
King Lambert
______
Most honorable King,
It was not my intentions to imply that you , sir, are unaware of what activity happens in London. Forgive me, my lord, for this matter is one that has taken quite a personal meaning in my mind and heart, as such it is exceptionally difficult to speak as coherently or as delicately as such matter in your most esteemed audience requires. My short comings have always consisted of brashness and the inability to properly pen my thoughts. I ask your forgiveness.
In my travels under the mantle and order of the realm, I have seen that this most discerning matter which those accused of magic blood have faced. It is not a matter that concerns Scotland herself, or London herself, but is wide spread through the lands.
These persons know no peace. It is a hope of mine that under your kind eyes and reign, my king, that London and her lands can begin a new order regarding their treatment. Gone are the wars of the classes that our forefathers knew, in it’s stead a war that pits man against men. These persons who are accused of being demons are as mortal, as much of men as either you, wise king, or myself.
Your most troubled servant,
Godric Gryffindor
______
To the great and most victorious Sir Godric Gryffindor.
I write to you in regard to topics previously discussed. Though it may pain me to say, but it must be said, I hold very little trust for the men at my court and will not bestow these words upon any other, and I expect of you to do the same. In a turn of the moon, a dear friend of mine, Dunstan of Morley, will host us in his humble halls, at Morely in Yorkshire. I shall travel with one man, Sir Aldahard of Krol, but he shall leave us upon arrival. Both he and Dunstan are reputable, trustworthy men, and I hope you prove to be the same.
Lambert, by the grace of God, King of England, Denmark, Norway and—the good parts of—Sweden.
______
To the most excellent, honorable and wise king of all Britannia, nay the modern world, King Lambert:
My word is that of any other knight, my bond and promise. These are the oaths I swore to those years ago, as I swore my loyalty to our empire and you, my king. Of these matters I shall not speak to another soul. Upon my honor I do swear it.
The moon cannot turn any quicker, and I cannot imagine any better company then yours, sire. I pray for your safe travel and that of your company.
Your most humble servent,
______
What an honour to be flattered so greatly by one such as yourself, sir, a tale I shall tell my children’s children and theirs in return—the great Sir Godric Gryffindor has sworn I am the best King in all the world.
I hope that we shall be able to talk freely when away from the sneaky eyes and prodding noses of the London court, you make well to stay away from it, I can only imagine the damage it could do to one’s personality, it seems there is little more than fathers wanting to wed their daughters, Lords and Ladies wanting more land than they know what to do with and a ridiculous amount of well-wishers for my lady wife who would no doubt jump at the chance to be the one to put us both in our graves.
Is it different in Scotland? Perhaps Malcolm and I should arrange a trade, though I’m unsure I could see myself amongst those lot, the English are hard enough to understand at times.
Yorkshire is a quiet place, it should do well, an abundance of pork and apples, if those prove to be as good as your honour then an almighty feast we shall have.
Regards, Lambert, by the grace of God, King of England, Denmark, Norway and—the good parts of—Sweden.
PostScript - Send my regards to the others.
______
To our most jovial King Lambert,
A tale spoken by a king rings the truest and is better then any bard and any knight can hope for. Yet I do politley disagree, sir, it is I who should be flattered.
I cannot directly compare the land of my birth, England and her fineries, to that of Scotland, which I have come to regard as my second home. Having been reared many years in both lands I would be a terrible source to make such comparisons being emotionally attached to both, nor do I wish to offend the Scots who I think of as family, by drawing such conclusions.
Without offending either parties, I can only simply say that it is as different as it is similar. I fear that such overzealous fathers are present in every land, and every culture and there is no yet conceivable way of eluding them, particularly when one is as good of a match as you are, sire.
By your word and judgement I am entirely trusting of. If Yorkshire bodes such things, then it is a blessing and a much needed physical, as well as dietary, escape. Even you with your ancestry would not take well to the popular Scottish meal of Hagus, to save your own stomach, I shall not speak of what this “delicacy” consists of.
Regardless of that he didn’t pick the glass up again, instead letting it sit, half-full, on the table, the grin melting down into a content smile. Lambert never wanted to be King, he never wanted to have these people tiptoeing around him as if he would strike with that unnecessary cruelty that most Kings were known for. No. He wanted to have friends, have food and drink, to enjoy himself and let his darling wife take over the general proceedings, though as of late he had come to learn that perhaps that wasn’t the best way to go, perhaps she was doing more bad than good...
Lambert sat rather listelessly in the gardens that sat in the court of the royal dwellings, his legs stretched out in front of him and his hand around a particularly fancy glass, filled to the brim with wine. He was gulping it down by the mouthful, extending his hand once again for it to be refilled until his eyes happened upon a familiar Knight.
‘Sir Aldahard.’
He yelled over the music, beckoning the man to him, slumping down in his chair a little more.
‘Come here!’
—————
Adalhard had been minding his own business having just left the Duke to his own duties and whatever else he may have had planned for the night. He knew that he had been taken fancy by a certain lady as of recently, and after having approached her, Adalhard was certain he could trust her for the time being. Now was the only change he had gotten since a few weeks ago that he was free for himself. He believed that training on the grounds where some of the other knights were would do him some good.
He had yet to figure out how the knights of London fought for their king and if there was anything for him to learn by it. He would pass by the courtyard where he thought would be open and free, giving him enough time to pass in the breeze in silence. But the moment that he had stepped into the yard, he heard a familiar voice call his name. Looking out into the distance, he saw the King accompanying a family that had been brought in as guest.
The knight pressed his lips together, not certain if it was the best time for him to go about and enter the scene as the others probably had not the slightest idea of who he was. But who was he to refuse the King? He too was a guest in his court and from the last they had departed, he was uncertain of where they stood.
With steady feet, Adalhard walked on over casually, greeting the others as he did with his charming smile. He came ahead of the King, bowing cautiously at the man.
“Your majesty. I see you are enjoying yourself with the new company.”
—————
Lambert gave the man a smile as he approached and bowed, waving at an empty seat for him to take it, and he pushed himself to sit up properly, one leg crossed over the other, looking at his company—the family, the Knight, the singer and the cup-boy—and ha laughed, carelessly bringing the glass to his lips again. It would suffice to say he didn’t care much for the company he kept in England, what use were they to him? They would turn their shoulders as soon as there was a new contender for the throne, and all the sooner he must make himself a son, but that was thought for the morrow.
‘This.. This is Lord Perkin Warbeck of Hereford, his Lady wife Beatrix, and two daughters, Eleanor and Arabella. And this is Sir Adalhard Krol, he joins us from Poland.’
Lambert made a wave between them all, wine sloshing from his glass down onto the floor, and he paid it no heed, eyes instead on the father of the girls whose face had all brightened significantly at the man’s being a Knight.
‘This one, Sir, this one Eleanor, is now fourteen, and still a maiden, still unwed.’
He couldn’t help but chuckle, rising a blush from the girl, something he didn’t seem to notice—and if he did, he hid it well—his smile some mix of amusement and mockery,
‘What do you think, Sir? Would there be a shortage of men to take her to bed and make an honest woman of her? And this one.. this other one.. widowed. But surely not shortage either, some men like their women broken in. What say you, mm? Would you?’
—————
He supposed there was no way in getting out of this one. He knew whatever the King wanted, he would get. And as he was still swimming in deep waters, Adalhard was careful with what he said or did around the King. Adalhard watched the King closely with his smile, sitting down in the empty seat near him. His eyes went to the company quickly before looking to the King once more as he spoke of them, who they were and where they came from.
Adalhard never liked beening in the company of Royals as they were enjoying themselves with more than just a glass full of wine. There were reason as to why as well he did his best to avoid these situation. Right now, here with the King, was a perfect example as to why he did. Pressing his lips inward, the knight’s eyes went to the goblet in his hands, the wine moving around vigorously every time he spoke and dared not to look where the color was staining him.
He moved briefly, making it as if he was just trying to get comfortable in his seating, from the wine barely missing his arm on the seat. A mental heavy sigh came about him as he looked at the Warbeck family apologetically. He had been in situations like this before with his own father and his drunken attitude when he was forced to attend his banquets and parties. He nodded at the Father of the family, knowing what the man was already thing, what all the father’s and mother’s were thinking when he was introduced as a knight, single, and with a family with riches. He was perfect for one of their daughters. Unfortunately, Adalhard was not pursuing anyone either, so there was nothing he could but be polite.
Adalhard’s eyes went to the youngest of the daughters as the King pointed her out, speaking words that should not be heard in front of her or any other woman in that matter. But he wouldn’t dare correct the King right now. Eight years older than the girl, Adalhard saw her as still a child having much to learn still instead of thinking about men in her bed. But that was the way he was taught to learn. Adalhard gave her a genuine smile nonetheless.
“The Ladies of Hereford will never have trouble with their beauty.”
His eyes glanced towards the King briefly before moving to the family before him, his ankle coming across his knee as he relaxed slightly.
“But to be in bed with a man is not the way to make an honest woman. Nor does a woman widow mean she has lost everything.”
Now if only he could let the King know he had far too much to drink already. But that of course might have his head.
—————
‘What a liar you are..’
He muttered, sinking back into his chair as he glanced at the two girls, a cruel smirk twisted on his lips, but he shifted to look at the rest of them, bar Aldahard, and sighed, giving them a few curt, polite, words of leave, and they scuttled off almost as fast as their little legs would carry them—which considering the size of the family was certainly not fast at all. He watched them leave before sipping a little more at the wine, a sweet wine, from France, and for that he was thankful.
Lambert turned in his seat to look at Aldahard, that smirk had simmered down to a general smile, he barked at the boy to pour a cup for the other man before sinking back again,
‘So how was your day, mm? The day of a Knight, filled with training and attending Bernard, I assume. Tell me, Al, do you want a wife? I would find you the best in the country, or is it a bed-warmer you want? A girl? A boy, even? I won’t tell.’
He glanced to the boy playing the music and snickered a little bit, kicking the knight’s foot lightly as he inclined his head towards him—silvery brown hair curled around his cheeks and ears, doe-like brown eyes, soft, ruddy and pale skin—as if asking What about that one?
—————
The man was caught off guard slightly as he was called a lair. He had hopped that it was the wine speaking from the King as he truly did not believe that he was a lair of the sort at all. Adalhard said what he believed to be true in his eyes of the family.
Adalhard took a deep breath as he watched the family leave once the King had bid them to do so. He held back anything he would want to say, simply letting the smile and nod he had given speak all the words he needed to the family. They were just one of the many that would accompany the King in lunch, dinner, or other affairs. There wasn’t much he could do to make them feel comfortable or welcoming as it was not his calling to do so. So instead, he watched them in silence until they were gone and the King spoke to him once more.
He could have said he would do fine without the wine, but Adalhard knew better to refuse a drink from anyone. So he took the goblet with a smile, taking a sip of the rich flavor before the knight leaned back to get comfortable. “I am not only a knight, your majesty.” A small laugh escaped his lips at the words. He was knight by choice, the only choice he had the chance to make. But because of his background, he could have been stated as more if he did not seclude himself from his family at times.
Taking another sip from his glass, he looked at the King from the rims of it. Did he want a wife? Of course he did. He had thought about a family, but not anytime soon as there was still much to do.
“I believe every man that has seen the darkest days hopes for a family to come home to, your majesty.”
He looked down into the wine quietly, thinking of a future he had plenty of times before. Every time he did, the images changed. The knight gave an amused smile at the King as he spoke even him having a man in bed. He hadn’t before, but there were limited women he had had as well. Adalhard was still a man. But he treated every woman splendidly. Adalhard raised his brow curiously at the King when he was gently kicked, looking over at the boy he had been staring at. Yes the boy had attractive features, but so did many others. Licking his lips from the dryness of the awkward tension that had been created, Adalhard did his best to look at the King amused.
“A man or a woman can wish to love whomever without having to tell anyone, your majesty. But if you are looking for an answer pertaining to if I have my eyes set on anyone, I do not.”
—————
The King let his lips twitch up into a smirk as he watched the Knight’s tongue run over his own, and he just couldn’t not hold back the small scoff that left him. So that was something interesting, a fun new fact, perhaps Adalhard was a fan of the boys, too, the boys and the girls, and if that were so then Lambert had plenty to go around, the young, warm, little English boys did wonders at times, there were plenty of teenage Lords and Ladies, wed and not, that would be delighted to share a bed with a man as handsome as he. But there was something off, something not quite right in the way the man sat with him, in the way he looked at him, responded to him, and he frowned.
‘Are you afraid in my company, Sir? I want you to be relaxed with me, be honest with me, do not skimp on your words and speak freely.’
He said this honestly and yet could not wonder what he would let himself into if the man were to take those words to heart, if he would tell him everything and all in truth and nothing else, allow himself to speak and say whatever he thought necessary.
‘As a friend, councilor, companion, adviser whatever you wish to call yourself, Adalhard but I will not have you by my side if you choose to hold back on what you wish to say, is that understood?’
—————
Adalhard did not wish to bed someone every night, nor simply use a man or a woman to satisfy his needs. He found that it was better to have someone as a companion, as a friend and share such feelings than waste them every night with someone new. But that was his ideal of it all. What his mother taught him about treating a woman right and respecting a man for who he was. The man simply smiled at the King at the thought. Was he simply saying this because the wine had gotten to him? Or did he honestly wish to know?
He took a deep breath, being caught off guard at his next words. Looking confused for a moment, he pressed his lips, letting his fingers run across his lips casually as he watched the king. Was he afraid of his company? Who wouldn’t be? The man had the power to have anyone’s head in a matter of seconds. Adalhard plenty to live for. No matter how honest he wish to be with the King, a true friend, it would still be hard. He was the King, and he was merely a knight for the Duke.
“Your majesty, I am honored enough to be in your company the many times I have been, but as you are King, I cannot help but respect you and your standings.” It was almost impossible to be the sort of man the King wished for him to be without having to offend the man. “But as you request, I will do my best to try. I can only hope my mother will forgive me if disapproves.” A small grin came to the corner of his lips before he looked away and gave a faint laugh.
But he couldn’t change who he was. Adalhard was raised to be a gentleman - to everyone. That was one thing he could not change. Except when he was trying to scold Bernard for something (which of course always failed).
“May I say that your majesty has had a bit too much to drink already?” Adalhard raised his brow, a small grin at the corner of his smile, testing the waters.
—————
At Aldahard’s words, Lambert’s lips turned up into a grin and he sunk a little more into his chair, lazily pushing the glass away from himself and he let his head lull to the side, eyes on the man, chuckling slightly,
‘You may say that, yes.. But you know.. you know.. A Danish man can drink more than you English.’
Regardless of that he didn’t pick the glass up again, instead letting it sit, half-full, on the table, the grin melting down into a content smile. Lambert never wanted to be King, he never wanted to have these people tiptoeing around him as if he would strike with that unnecessary cruelty that most Kings were known for. No. He wanted to have friends, have food and drink, to enjoy himself and let his darling wife take over the general proceedings, though as of late he had come to learn that perhaps that wasn’t the best way to go, perhaps she was doing more bad than good. He sighed a little bit, shifting his legs up , one crossing lazily over the other as he looked out at the people in front of him.
‘Do you think I shouldn’t drink anymore?’
He asked, wondering if the man would be so beautifully bold as to tell him the truth rather than skittering around the subject like most were likely to do, would they be so afraid that they’d let him drink and drink until his liver could take no more? They were supposed to advise him, and yet they did nothing. Absolutely nothing.
‘What do you think I should do, Al?’
—————
Adalhard took a long sip of the wine, still not used to the taste the English had over the ones they had back in Poland. He looked down at the dark liquid, moving it slowly in the glass before he looked at the King, watching carefully as he moved his own glass off to the side. The knight did his best to not laugh too loudly at the King’s words.
“I am sure that may prove to be true, but I would rather not go about testing that for my own health and those around me.”
The knight shook his head as he took another sip of the wine. The richness of it made it the bitter taste at the end far stronger than he normally liked it, but the knight said nothing about it. It was nothing that he wouldn’t, couldn’t get used to. Raising it to eye level, he looked at the custom silverware of the royal family before looking far into the distance to some of the few guest walking about. He took a heavy breath, looking over at the King as he lazily sat in his chair.
“I always say there is wisdom in wine. It allows people to speak freely, do you not think, your majesty?”
So then was drinking much of it a smart idea when around people you normally could not trust? He raised a brow at the King. “The question is not if you should not drink anymore, your majesty. It is how much one should and whom he should drink around.” Adalhard always kept his liquor down. And the only man he ever felt he could drink to his hearts content was with Bernard as they were childhood friends first and foremost. “If you want my advise that is it. You do not need to stop drinking, but be careful around whom you do it with.”
—————
He eyed up the other as he spoke and he gave a small shrug, wondering, momentarily, where Bernard had got to, wondering if he was keeping Aldahard here away from him—he soon let those thoughts disappear, he was a King and Bernard would bloody well have to wait for his time with Al—time he had far too much of, Lambert thought. A smile came to his lips and he shook his head some, hoisting himself to sit up properly, and then to stand. It took a little moment for him to steady himself, but it came, and he walked past the other man, a hand brushing over his arm lightly, giving is a squeeze.
Slim fingers plucked at the food still laid out on the table, standing with his back to Aldahard, wine discarded off to the side and not a thought came to his mind to carry on drinking—it was in his blood to drink and to eat, but now he was an English man, he would have to start acting like one. He’d already started to speak like one, being a little nicer and a little better-spoken, pronouncing all his words properly, and his accent had even faded some, no longer as strong as it had been when he’d arrived in the country.
‘Do you think I scared them?’
He asked in regards to the family he had just sent away, a little smirk on the corner of his lips, and he felt a little bad for what he had said, sure, but he was the king and they had come asking money and sorts, again. He pressed his lips together in a line before popping a piece of rolled up meat into his mouth and turning to look at the other man,
‘Am I to be kind and receptive of all the people that come through my doors, and pretend to mean it? They all come asking for the same things; better food—as if I can help their crops!—protection, money, land.’
He tutted a little bit,
‘And these ones come to ask for marriages, because I have any care who his daughters end up bedding.’
—————
If he knew what the King was thinking, he was sure that he would have given him the answers he looked for. But he had merely asked for his advice and that was what was given to the great man without hesitation from the knight. He knew very few took advice from him as they saw him as still a young man. But there was much Adalhard witness in his life to say such things. But of course, others who never knew any better would see him as foolish and never give a second chance. No matter, the knight rather not waste his time where he knew it was not wanted.
What matter was that Bernard kept him close. The man was more than just his Duke, he was his friend. He hopped that such a relationship would form with the King of England, but Adalhard was sure that it was a long shot, that the King had plenty of people he thought of as friends. Though the King had said he wish to have people around him that were trustworthy, it all mattered if he took action to those words and if Adalhard was good enough to be one of them.
Taking a deep breath, the knight went for another sip, but stopped when he saw the King stand. He was about to follow, making sure the man was alright, but stopped half through the thought. Adalhard was sure the King would brush him off as he could stand and walk on his own. Taking a deep breath, his blue eyes followed the King, the tickling sensation overcoming him when he felt the soft touch of the man’s hand against his arm, and then the gentle squeeze. What was the man thinking? What waters was Adalhard swimming in?
Reaching over and putting his drink down on the table, he took a piece of fruit, popping it into his mouth before he stood, fixing the edges of his leather jacket sleeve. He raised his brow though when he was directed a question once more.“Honestly, I do believe so. You are the King of England, your majesty. You will always be seen as such. People will tread carefully around you whether you are or not frightening.” Adalhard gave a brief smile at the other before letting it drop. He too felt truth in what he said about his own perspective of the King and Queen.
Adalhard walked over towards the King, stretching his arm out to place a hand on his shoulder, a smile forming at the corner of his eyes.
“Your majesty, you are King. Your duties require you to do so. But that is why you have friends besides you to talk your worries away. Unfortunately it is what is expected of those in higher standings. I cannot count the number of letters I’ve had to write with the same proposition.”
—————
‘Do you find me frightening, Aldalhard?’
He asked simply, turning his back to lean against the table of food, chewing lazily on another piece of meat, he was barely tasting any of it, the alcohol had lost its effect swiftly and now left him with dull senses, dull words and dull everything else, his nose wrinkled some, glancing down to the hand on his shoulder. His eyes lingered for a moment, just looking—though in his mind it seemed far longer than it had been—his nails were neatly trimmed, his fingers, though slightly calloused, looked soft and taken care of, he wasn’t dirty, he wasn’t injured. He paused, looking back up to the man’s face again. His hand rose, palm on the Knight’s cheek, a smile on his own lips once more,
‘You’re a good man, I cannot bear to write too many letters. My wrist aches and I lose all will to live.’
Lambert chuckled but he let his hand move, pulling the Knight into a tight hug, fingertips pressing into the sof, boiled leather and his palm then flattening on his shoulder, but it didn’t last long, the hug, and he let himself drop back again, turning his back to the man to pick through the array of fruits still left on the table, soon decided on the pork and apple sauce, as usual.
‘I hope you will stay for some time with me, here, I would very much hate to see an honest man go, there are so very few of you, but, please, listen closely. I want you to be honest, at all times, perhaps not in front of others, but be honest with me, I shall know if you’re not.’
—————
“As a man, no. As a man with a title, it could be said otherwise before I had gotten the chance to know your majesty. You have a kind heart others have yet to see.”
Though his words were slandered here and there when wine had been placed in his hand. But any man could fall to if he had enough to taste. Though Adalhard never found himself in that position, he was not sure what words would come from his lips and if they were his at all.
As the King’s gentle touch lingered on his face as it had once before, Adalhard felt himself found in a sense of calm. If any other knight, man even woman knew this side of the King, they would think otherwise of the King. The sudden hug from the man however had slightly had Adalhard taken back. But he welcomed it none the less with his own arms gently holding the man for whatever reason the King had. He was no man to judge what thoughts went through the King’s mind. To rule a country was far harder than anyone could imagine. Without even wanting to, one made enemies. It was something only those who held it in power would truly understand. But Adalhard promised himself at this moment that he would do his best to understand and help the King when he needed it the most.
When the King was ready, he let go as well, watching the man look for what he wanted to eat before returning to his seat. Adalhard smiled in the silence that followed suit.
And that was how he became to have his name. Adalhard the Honest. As the King had seen him as just that, an honest and good man. The man that he had wish for people to see him as. There was a feeling of content, no of something more as he listened to the words of the King. He was sure that he had been made in good graces of the man before him and their relationship was no long seen as something between Bernard and the King, but as Adalhard and King Lambert. A bond had formed and the knight was more than honored to uphold it into the future.
“I promise to be the man that I am now, everyday to you, your grace.”
‘You are friends with Sir Godric, I presume? Tell me, Adalhard, what would you do were he deemed a traitor, or accused of something akin to it? Would you remain loyal to your friend, or to your King? And don’t lie to me.’
‘Come now, cousin, I can only imagine what manner of things await us today.’
The King put his heels to the horse, setting it off into a light walk, assuming that the man would follow. They rode for some time, not out of London but further up north, towards the large plots of land where, no doubt, the game would lay. Hare, rabbits, deer, boar, all kinds of animals awaited his sword.
‘Sir Krol, do tell me,’
He started, turning his head to the man that rode along with him, shifting the reigns into one hand as he adjusted the sword on his side, licking his lips as he looked over him,
‘What is the best game in Poznan? I am afraid I’ve never been. But Bernard tells me ludacris stories of boar the size of horses, and birds the size of dragons.’
Lambert laughed a little, sitting himself back comfortably in the saddle, looking over at the approaching clunmps of trees, very well known for being ripe with game, as if the blood of the kills had watered the ground.
—————
Adalhard was quite pleased with himself as of late. He had gotten himself familiar with the grounds quicker than he thought he would, and became knowledgeable about the whose and whats of the castle. If that did not help, the man had found himself fond of some of the castle critters the Queen seemed to have as guest. ‘Guest,’ as Queen Emma would put it, were truly prisoners without knowledge. The knight knew something was wrong, but to find what it was - was the true task. He had barely any time after their first meeting to speak with the Queen, and found it difficult after the tourney had begun. So the knight had come to believe that the King would be of some help in the situation. Unfortunately, the King knew very little of the Queen’s plans and games.
None the less, Adalhard would stick by the King’s side. Lambert was a great King, and very few knew of it. The polish knight was sure that Bernard would only follow so in his own footsteps sooner or later. But as the King had requested his presences for hunting, Adalhard had woken a few hours earlier to prep himself. Though he had servants to his tending while he was staying at the castle, Adalhard preferred his privacy. Making sure he had everything, the knight made his way out, greeting those who came to him and even those from the distance.
It did not take him long as he came to find his horse and saddle up alongside the King. He nodded at the King, fixing his own cloak and throwing it behind him as he trotted quickly after the other.
“Your majesty seems to be in good spirits today.”
Adalhard gave a thoughtful smile at the man, knowing that the King had taken up more duties as there had been far more guest staying after the tourney ended. He took a deep breath, raising his brow at the King. A small twitch of his lips came to surface as he heard what his majesty had to say. Letting a laugh escape, Adalhard shook his head. “The Duke seems to make the smallest of tasks a challenge sometimes, I fear. But I believe all animals are alike in some way or another. I do not believe that there cannot be a boar as the size of a horse her either. They are sure to be roaming in the shadows.” Adalhard raised his brow in curiosity to the King.
“Our animals size may be greater than what breads here in England, but that is so because we do not have city’s like London. With such vast land taken, the animals have very little to feed off and grow. But the size of a dragon? I think not. I do not believe the Duke understands how dragons are portrayed just yet.” No, Bernard wouldn’t know besides the stories that were told. Even Adalhard had never seen a dragon himself to compare.
“I would have to say the best to hunt is the deer itself, as it proves to be the most challenging. The hunter only gets one shot, and only one, to kill.”
At the thought, Adalhard looked about, searching for his best kind of game. He was never the one to go for the biggest, or the strongest, but the one that knew danger was lurking, and was quick enough to escape it. Those were the ones that gave the man the title of ‘hunter.’
“What may I ask is your call, your majesty?”
—————
The king gave a happy sigh as the other man spoke and he was smiling still, letting the horse trot along at a nice, steady pace, his clothing so light and airy today that he felt awfully good about it, about himself, about the day and how the fruits of their labour would flourish. He would bring home a deer for the nightly feast, or a boar, something large and juicy, tender meats.
‘Ah, yes, Bernard is likely to exaggerate, but I do enjoy his tales, even though they are just that, fantastical tales of animals that could feed the kingdom for years to come. Dragons, yes, but who does know the true size of a dragon? For all we know they could be the size of the common dog.’
Lambert knew very l;ittle of this other man and knew little of what he was known to be, a hunter, a knight, a weakling or a man of great strength, but he could only assume there was something about him that kept him coming and kept him at court, and he would be glad to find out exactly what that was,
‘Well,’
He paused to think, eyes moving over the ground beside him as he led the horse into the trees, letting it walk a little slower,
‘I enjoy the sport, be it pheasant, fox, deer or boar, but the bigger the snimal the more I enjoy the hunt, the more it feeds.’
He let his eyebrows raise, smirking,
‘And a boar will run and run.’
—————
He was in a good mood. It was rare to find oneself alone with the King, (or so as alone one could get without the guards following yards behind) and be in a pleasant company. He grinned at the thought of the Queen having to say something against such things, knowing that there was more to the two’s relationship that met the eye. Sighing mentally as the man dared not to remove the smile from his lips, he looked to the King interestingly. He had been hunting with the man before, but only in the presences of Duke Bernard and more guards hoovering around them.
“Yes, hearing of his tales are far entertaining than doing one’s duty.”Adalhard grinned, a small laugh escaping his lips at the thought. If only the Duke was as excited to do what he was suppose to do instead of gossiping about stories. Who would have thought such a man would do such a thing? And as of late? He had disappeared off at the most crucial times.
The knight nodded at the man’s words. “What an honorable King would say,” the smile on his lips became genuine at the words. He took a deep breath, knowing what he said was true. If Adalhard any family to feed, he would do the same. Looking for the strongest and biggest game he could take down, and bring it home for those looking forward to it. Though the King was hunting food for his courtship, for his immediate family and not the people, the thought was enough to make anyone believe he was loyal to his family, to his duty to take care of them. It was the little things Adalhard took notice of.
“If dragon’s were the size of a common dog, I do not believe there would be legends to be told then.”
Though there was no reason for Adalhard to not believe dragon’s to be such a size. He too had never seen a real dragon, or know anyone of who has.
Keeping pace with the King, Adalhard looked about the forest, then over behind his shoulder at the distance the guards kept. They were far enough for them to not over hear on their conversation, giving him the perfect time to ask the King of what had been on his mind for some time now. “I am glad to hear that your majesty is as healthy as a boar.” And with that said, Adalhard swung his legs over and dropped down with a small thud. Taking a deep breath, he took the reins of his horse, trying it about a tree near him. From here on, he would go about on foot. If the King wish to or not, Adalhard would not mind either way.
“Your majesty, there has been something bothering me for some time now, and I do hope I do not speak out of term when asking this,” the knight looked over to King Lambert with a curious expression on his features.“How is it that you know Godric Gryffindor?”
—————
Lambert’s lips pressed together as the other man spoke and he nodded, a slight smile on his face, and it was very, very true, he would have much preferred to sit around and listen to Bernard’s extraordinary tales of dragons, animals, all sorts of crazy things, things that made him forget things and simply bask in them. Bernard was a wondrous fellow.
‘Perhaps not, but it is not always the size of things that makes them formidable, cousin, you must remember that.’
He followed suit not too long after the other man, sliding down from his saddle and leading the horse to a nearby tree, tying the reigns not too far from the other horse, he liked to think that the animals liked to have company while they waited, whether it was true or not escaped him, it was something he didn’t care to learn, they looked content there. He removed the cloak, draping it over another branch—for being a King, Lambert was not really one to care of these personal belongings, or for the perks he was meant to have (though he did enjoy the kneeling when he was feeling down).
The king was busy fixing himself up, adjusting the sword at his side and the arrows on his back—they would be of little use, only for slowing any prey—but he froze in place as the Knight spoke, only momentarily losing his train of thought before soon regaining it and continuing on, his body a little stiffer than before.
‘Sir Godric came seeking council, he and I have been in correspondence since, regarding the ongoing problems.’
He said simply, not giving any details and yet not brushing over the subject, open for more questions, though ones he was not sure he cares to answer.
‘I was unaware that you and he were acquainted. Knights in arms, I know, but are you close?’
—————
The man nodded in agreement. “I shall remember, your majesty.” Adalhard watched the King, taking notice of how he had paused in his movements at the mention of Godric. “The letter I had delivered to you earlier during my stay, I had taken notice of the seal by accident. I had recognized it as Godric Gryffindor’s personal seal.” Before the King could believe that Adalhard had been spying on him for knowing such a thing, the knight cleared his name before things would get worse.
“As close as knights can become in travels. I do my best to keep my letters clean with those I have been acquainted with.”
Adalhard was uncertain of the relationship he had with Godric. He saw the man as a good knight, but they had very little contact, unlike Salazar and himself. Though as the King had now become familiar with the man, it seemed that Adalhard would be getting to know Godric a little better.
“If I may speak out of term once more, your grace, but what sort of council was Godric seeking?” And of what problems had they spoken about in private? Adalhard was familiar with what went about England and the other countries, as Poland dealt with the same problems. Being close with the Duke had given him such advantages and priorities to know about conflicts and such. He took a deep breath, raising his brow at the King, Adalhard did his best to not step out of line as he brought his bow before him, fixing his arrows in the back.
“These ongoing problems,” Adalhard sighed deeply as he looked back over at the horses to see if they were doing fine. They would be good in each other’s company. As for the two of them, the knight could only hope that his questions would not put the King and himself in an uncomfortable position. He was after all, the King’s allay. Glancing back to the King once more, he continued about what he was going to say, “could you not have your trusted advisers help you?”
—————
Speaking out of term indeed, but that was one little thing about their King Lambert; he didn’t seem to mind. He moved a hand, pushing his hair back and away from his forehead, eyes moving over the landscape, looking around them for any signs of life, and he thought for a moment how best to answer the other man. It seemed he knew Godric, but they were both knights, did he know him as Lambert knew him? A man capable of magic, a man capable of rallying his troops to take down the entirety of his kingdom if he so choose, to go pagainst Emma and himself, leaving them with no chance of fighting back? Or was he just a knight?
‘There are some things the advisors are not apt to deal with, some things that are privy to keep to myself, trusted as they are, I am aware that these are still not my people.’
Lambert’s smile had dropped and he shrugged his shoulders, finding no problem with telling the other man the truth in what he was thinking and feeling, but it was rare that his thoughts ran true. He was no idiot. He pushed a smile forwards and shrugged his shoulders, looking around again, just making sure there was nobody around them,
‘I am want to sort these problems myself, rather than involving others.’
—————
Adalhard let his senses heightened at the soft crackle of leaves near his right. Hunting was not something Adalhard done daily, or willingly, but it was something that he was good at as well. For any knight that could sense a presence was a knight willing to be careful for. At the corner of his eyes he caught a deer running off into the distance. Even he had taken the chance to aim for it, he would have missed. Rather save the arrows for those that he was sure he would kill. Pressing his lips together, the man looked to the King once more, moving his cloak aside behind him as he took a few steps to follow after the man.
“I would do the same if I were in your place, your grace. At times, it is best to keep things to oneself, especially if it involves things the people cannot understand without bias judgment.”
How many secrets had he kept from those advisers the Duke had on behalf of the other man? And the one he kept from his friend, the one that drowned him every day when he faced the Duke? It was hard; he would not deny it, to hold the truth from those who would not understand. But what made him curious was as to what Godric would have wish to speak to the King about. What affairs had they written about? It was pricking him at the back of his head now as the topic had been brought up. But as he did not wish to push the King’s limits, Adalhard kept a safe distance with his words.
“Though, as a King, you must learn to believe you have loyal followers. I for one, no matter the consequences, never leave the Duke’s side. And to you, I am loyal friend, pray to remember that my dear King.”
Adalhard moved closer to the King, ducking his head to see further into the distance head of them. “There,” the knight pointed at a hart, a male red deer. One of the knight’s favorite to hunt if he ever came out with the Duke. They were fast, which only made his hunting all the more exiting. But at he knew that the King rather seek for something larger, he let his eyes follow to where the deer was looking. “It is watching its hunters.” He was sure, that they were not its only hunters, as the deer had seemed to turn its head towards their direction before running off. “There must be something near it was afraid of.” And that, Adalhard was sure, would be something the King was willing to hunt. Taking a deep breath, he waited for the King to follow through before he would. In the meantime, he had spoken once more of their prior topic.
“I apologize, my grace, for following with such words, but I had merely become curious as to how you had gotten to know Godric.”
—————
Lambert knew Adalhard to be a loyal man, as far as he had seen, and he had known him to be a graceful man, too, ever careful with his words and actions as not to upset those around him, but how far, he wondered, could one such as him really be trusted? Would he be so keen to keep his Queen happy? Others around them? To keep things close enough to his chest, yet far enough to hint at things unsaid? His body, nor his face, made any hint to these thoughts and a simple smile came over his lips, his hands clutched the reigns, turning a little further towards the growths of trees.
‘My dear Sir, I will remember those words, and I hope that you, too, will remember that they came from your own mouth.’
His eyebrows rose a little as he stepped over a large root, scraping the bottom of his shoe against is as he ventured, quietly, inwards, sword drawn and in his hand. The boars were fearless creatures, stupidly fearless, preferring to stand and fight rather than flee into the woods, and while many a man before him had fallen prey to their advances he would not. It took no more than ten minutes until the blood of the animal was soaking the ground beneath them, and he, with a triumphant smile, turned back to the other man.
‘Godric and I merely converse, as friends, he is currently in the north. If you must know, and keep this closer than you might the favour of a pretty lady, he is concerned as to the safety of those around him. Em—the Queen has been hard on the heels of apparent “witches” as of late, and he fears that those of his kin may be caught in the burnings and sentenced themselves. Plus, he is a Knight, I like to know as many as I can.’
It was not a total lie, in fact he had not lied at all, merely left out certain details of the story, but with a slight shrug of his shoulders he leaned himself down, hands grasped around the boar’s fat legs, dragging it out to the edge of the trees. A slight sweat broke out upon his brow, but he said nor did anything of it, merely letting the beast drop as soon as the area was clear. He waved a hand towards it,
‘Put it on the back of the horse, would you?’
His nose wrinkled a little as he looked at the man before him, all blonde hair and light eyes, tall, strong, everything a Knight should be and everything a young squire, or poor boy, might hope to be in the future. The King licked his lips a little bit, hands wiping at his cloak, wiping the blood from them,
‘You are friends with Sir Godric, I presume? Tell me, Adalhard, what would you do were he deemed a traitor, or accused of something akin to it? Would you remain loyal to your friend, or to your King? And don’t lie to me.’
—————
Adalhard stood quiet as he watched the King from a few steps behind. He watched where his eyes went, through the trees before them silently. “I always remember the words I say, your majesty.” The knight wouldn’t forgetting such words, not when honestly was present in them. He meant what he had said, that the King has a loyal friend in him so as long as what was done was done in truth. As he believed in Bernard, he became to believe in what the King was capable of doing for his people. But if the King comes to understand that Adalhard was truly at his side, he would get to know more of what was being planned and if anything needed to be done about it. As good graces he was with the Queen, he still needed to be careful around the woman. She was as tricky as they came.
True, he himself could be a dangerous man to watch. A gentleman he was, there were always secrets among men. But he gave no reason to anyone to think such thoughts of him yet. Adalhard did everything to be careful around those he knew could have his head within a matter of seconds.
Ten minutes passed in the silence and Adalhard followed the King quietly from behind, letting the man take care of the boar that came into view. He knew pride meant a lot to any man, especially a King who wished to feed those at his table. There was much to said about a man who could.
The knight stopped just a few feet away from the King cleaning his sword as he spoke of Godric once more. A curious look came over his features as he heard the words clearly. Godric, Witches. The Queen. Adalhard watched the King, letting his expression become calm once more as to not give out a clue of what was going about his thoughts. He knew the Queen was interested in knowing more of something, and this something was of witches. His presumptions were correct then. The Queen knew of them. What on earth did Godric tell the King?! “Words among friends.” Adalhard did nothing but give a brief smile before looking down at the boar. Moving his bow over his shoulder, he swept his cloak aside to get a good handle on the animal. With a grunt he was able to lift it and move it onto his own horse properly so it would not fall. Taking a deep breath, he whipped the few blood stains on his gloves off to a cloth he kept in the sack on the saddle before looking at the King once more, caught off guard by his words briefly.
Was he friends with Godric? It could be put as such as they knew of each other and spoke when they had the chance. But to say that he was close with the other knight was an overstatement. He knew of Godric because of Salazar. And he had met Helga and Rowena along the way. Still, he was a loyal and honorable knight, and there weren’t enough of those to go around so Adalhard respected the man. He took a deep breath, looking at his King without showing off any emotion particularly.
“Being knights require certain standings with others of our kind. But I do respect the man as I do respect you. I know of him and who he is, I suppose you can assume that we are friends in that sense.”
Adalhard’s breath was caught in his lugs as the question. He knew to lie to the King was beyond betrayal, especially as this King was close to Bernard. How could he answer such a question without seeming to be suspicious? Especially when he did not wish to go against either parties? Both the King and Godric meant something to the knight, it would be a shame to go against either one of them.
To imagine Godric a traitor seemed impossible. Though knights had turned and fallen, Adalhard could not imagine such a thing to happen to a man like Godric. He has proven to himself and those around him that he is willing to fight for what he believes and from the stories he has heard, Adalhard has come to believe in that man as nothing more than a good man. But the idea of the King coming up and saying such things made Adalhard wonder what it was Godric had said. Though all these things he was, as Adalhard was as well, a good man, knight, and friend, mistakes could easily be made. What else was in that letter? Why did the King seem anxious to know his answer?
“I would do what is best for us all. Because in the end, what matters is what is left of the fight and if we can use it to mend a new bond or a stronger one at that.”
—————
The King gave him a dry smile, turning himself to the man before him and a bare hand rose, his other clutching his glove, and touched at Aldahard’s cheek, pad of his thumb against his cheekbone and his fingertips pressed into the soft flesh at the back of his neck. A light tap to his skin and he let his hand drop,
‘That is not what I asked you, Krol. I asked what you would do. Would you side with your friend, or with your King? How are you to know who tells the truth in the situation, or what will be best for us all? As the King, surely what I say is the best for us, no?’
The smile turned to a grin, but he did not take his question back, only moving away to swing himself back onto the horse, reigns held in one hand, the other stroking through the horse’s main, patting it on the neck gently, and he sighed, using one hand to guide it’s head towards the other man, the sound of hooves muffled still by the mud and the grass. He was practised on a horse in only the way a royal could be, his eyes moved downwards, stroking over the horse again.
‘Are you done, or would you like to find yourself a deer?’
While the question hung in the air, he turned the horse to move away, walking the animal down along the edge of the woods, eyes moving over the trees and what may lay inside them, expecting the man to follow him. He sat back in the saddle, heaving a sigh, still smiling, looking over the trees fondly, there was hardly a time he felt more at ease than when in the saddle, when on a hunt, when out and about, generally away from his duties as a king, an in a place like this with a man like Al, well, that was nice, this was nice.
‘Do you think we’ll need a deer at dinner tonight?’
Lambert scoffed a little, every now and then he felt bad for those in the city that had far less than he did to eat, and yet he did nothing about it, instead feasting those at court, at his tabled, everybody he could fit there, the kitchens never stopped.
‘I do hope there’s enough apples, pork and apple.’
—————
Adalhard had stopped in his movements, gripping onto the bow he had just slung over his back as he felt the warm touch of the King’s hand against his cheek. He was honored to be here with the man, but the feeling brought something more to his knowledge than he wish to admit. Never would he say the King was not quick as any other knight or person he knew. Even his words there did not impress the man to level the topic be.
“You are the King of England.”
And as so, he would politely follow behind in silence so as long as he was here. He would do his best to keep good graces with those he must.
But he was right. How would he know of who spoke the truth? The only way he knew so much of it now was because of his own involvement. He was a wizard himself, a pureblood from a royal line. He could not ignore that fact and pretend that it meant nothing to him. Even to this day he used magic when he could, cast spells and learn of the magic that could help him ‘defend’ those he cared about.
“Do not fret, I can handle what I need to get later. I have other matters to attended to for the Duke when we arrive back.”
He would have to do later with hunting for himself and those friends he had made in the time he had been staying in London. He would be sure to give whatever extra he may have left over to the kitchen for anything they may wish to use for dinner. Adalhard normally was not at the dinner table unless the Duke request that he be there or the King and Queen themselves wished for him to be there. Normally Adalhard had enough of the royalties from his family linings that he take part as little as he could when he was in London.
The King was in a pleasant mood. He had seen the man about five times during his stay here with the Duke and each time the man seemed rush, people waiting on him to get things done. For once, the man before him was just that, a man having a good day. If only he did pray to God that the King would be in such a kind mood for the rest of the day. But alas, Adalhard was not the man to pray for anything.
“If we do, I will take care of it, your majesty.”
Adalhard moved his horse to follow alongside the King riding. He checked on the boar every now and then sitting upon to make sure it would not fall or be of a problem to his steed. He took a deep breath, taking in the crisp air around him, hopping to ease the look that he may have had from the moment the question was dropped on him.
“If there is not, I will pick those for you as well.”
A laugh escaped his lips at these words. As he did not fancy himself picking apples, but thought it humors enough to lighten the mood. But he knew that it would not last long.
He knew to ignore the King’s question would propose trouble, cause a drift between he and the King, not to mention the Queen as well. Adalhard would be watch and that was something he would rather not have done. A target on his back was the last thing the knight needed to worry about at this moment. He was born to mold to the liking of anyone in court, as the way his mother would say it. His father taught him to tread careful among those who were cautious of outsiders. Adalhard took a deep breath, looking up at the King as he kept pace with him on foot.
“My loyalty are with Bernard and his choices. I am loyal to my country and it’s future first, your majesty. You could only expect one to be if they truly love their King.”
Adalhard knew this was not the answer that he was looking for, but it was an answer nonetheless to help the King understand where he stood and give an idea of what he would do. Though England and Poland were two separate and independent countries, he knew to be careful because of Bernard and his standings. He would not do anything to anger the King, as he has come to see him as a friend. Not only that, the man was a good King even at a young age. Adalhard respected him. But the secrets of magic folks was making all this far more complicated than he wanted to admit.
“I apologize now if I have offended your highness in anyway. I do not wish to blind you with anything, but I have come here in following the Duke’s orders. Otherwise I would still be in Poland behind a desk.”
Godric or the King of England? The two were important to him than one could imagine. It was simply saying who he was against who he should be. How could one choose between the two when all he wanted was peace for both?
—————
Lambert, too, laughed, the idea of him sending out his knights to pick apples was humorous and maybe just something he would have to do when feeling a little down, he shook his head some, letting the horse slowly move along, his hands slack on the reigns, looking over for a moment at the animal on the other horse’s back, but when Adalhard began to speak he looked down at him, watching him, eyes on his face, on his eyes. When was finished he lazily moved his hands to his gloves, pulling them both off and shoving them in a bag, letting the cool air move between his fingers,
‘There are many who would swear fealty to me, and me alone, at the drop of a hat, you know.’
He started, a glimmer of amusement dancing over his features for just a second, but he hid that, tongue sliding out over his lips like a shy, pink animal, and he turned his head, looking away in feigned nonchalance, fingertips dancing over the animal’s skin,
‘I am not English, a lot of those people, the ones who bend the knee every day, come asking for money, food, protection, whatever it may be, many of them would do the same to any other king, any other man that wore a crown atop his head or had his derriere on the throne, they would turn without the flutter of an eyelid. I need honest people, Sir, I need those to question me when I make a misguided decision—as is all too likely to happen with the company I am forced to keep.’
It was obvious enough that he was aware of the men that surrounded him, their loyalties lay with his wife far more so than they did with him, but did he really care? He would find his own men, he was the King of England, the councils and courts were made of men and women he saw fit to have, and soon enough it would be so—no matter what his wife said. He would fill the place with people he could trust, people whose company he actually enjoyed, or could learn to enjoy, perhaps he’d ship a few more people over from home, who knows.
‘Come then, let us drop the beast within the walls, I don’t think my day is over just yet, I’ve many more things to ask you, Sir. Perhaps a flagon of wine, too, some food.’
His eyebrows rose some, as if challenging the man to deny him company.
—————
Being careful was an understatement for Adalhard right now. He knew he was swimming in deep end. But being as honest as he could was something he was proud of and was good at. Nothing he said to the King was a lie. He spoke the truth, carefully, but the truth nonetheless. He would choose to be on Bernard’s side, as he had already promised the man he would stand behind as a knight and friend. If some how Godric did become the enemy, Adalhard would do his best to mend what had been broken.
Hearing the King laugh though at his comment eased the knight momentarily. It was healthy for a man in Lambert’s position to be in such a mood frequently. A happy King meant happy followers. Plus, Adalhard enjoyed him this way. There was less of a standard to withhold when the King acted as one of them.
Adalhard wasn’t a fool. He knew that many threw their hats on the ground for the King without a thought. But he stood in a position far more delicate than most of those men. He smiled briefly at the Kings words, looking away at the path ahead of them. Bernard was his future. Though that did not mean he could not have faith in the King either.
“We all need honesty in our lives, your majesty. What the trouble is, is not finding those men, but of how we actually handle the truth that is thrown at us. Are you a man that will accept the truth no matter what it entitles? Or one that will take the truth and spin it to a lie for it be bearable?” The question wasn’t one to be directed to the King alone, as it was a question that all men and women would need to answer when it came time to it. Adalhard himself faced the consequences of the finding out the truth every day. It was simply something to think about.
But the King was right to have the right company beside him. It would not bid him well if all his advisers were followers of the Queen. It wouldn’t make any matters better for Adalhard either. “If you have to think twice about trusting someone, then maybe they are not worth your trust to start with.” Adalhard pulled on the reins below, moving the horse forward to keep up with his pace as he glanced at the King.
Adalhard couldn’t help but grin and hold back his laughter at the last request. He looked over at the King amused, “I am starting to believe that you are in reins with Bernard. Keeping me away from the Duke so he can go off and do what he please. I hope I am not right as it will only cause us all more trouble after.” It was a mere jest, but the thought had come to him. He had not seen Bernard all day and the moment he had awoken, he was asked to company the King in his hunt. Him out of all his knights.
“If you request my presences, than I am honored to continue.”
IC chat London Audience Hall | Carrow, Eileen, Lambert, Emma, Eleri, Bernard, Brutus, Thaddeus, Beonne | Week 25
Carrow stretches in his chair before removing a pocket knife from his pocket and beginning to clean his fingernails.
Thaddeus glances over at Carrow before letting his eyes scan the room, almost trying to avoid looking at Brutus for fear of having to leave the room, but he couldn't help giving him a smile and a wave.
Brutus walks in, half-regretting the decision to come here, and half-excited at the prospect of seeing Thaddeus again. He did not know what had told him this would be a good idea. His face colored slightly when their eyes met, and he offered another friendly smile.
Bernard wants to know why a performer has a pocket knife handy, but of course they are in London. Bernard also wants a lady on his arm right now, not that he has anything against a room full of men. Stretching like a cat Bernard prowled his way over to Carrow, "Ello!
Carrow nodded in regard to his better. "My Duke, how are you faring this evening?"
Doug joined the chat
Thaddeus pushed himself to stand, pulling his feet from the table they'd been resting on and he made his way over, 'Brutus. Nice to see you again.'
Bernard beamed happily. "I happen to be feeling lovely! I had some wonderful scones this morning. Very tasty. How about you? Coming up with any exciting new plays?" The Duke rocks back on his heels like a child and continues smiling like he was just offered a million gold pieces.
Eileen joined the chat
Carrow doesn't know quite what to expect with the Duke, who for someone of noble standing smiled quite a bit more than he was used to. "Scones?" He gestured to the bowl set on the table. "Have you tried the blackberry ones? I've been munching them down as I try to pen these words. I fear it's nothing like my last work however."
JillytheLurker joined the chat
Anya peeks joined the chat
Brutus extended a hand towards Thaddeus as he approached, the smile never leaving his face but his blush deepening visibly. "And you, Lord Thurknell." Brutus glanced away quickly and caught sight of Duke Bernard, a man he had been meaning to speak with for quite a while, yet could not work up the courage. He supposed now was as good a time as any, he could hardly stand speaking to Thaddeus much longer without turning into a tomato. "Duke Bernard! I am glad we finally have the opportunity to meet," Brutus grinned and nodded politely to the other man he did not recognize.
Eileen pushes open the doors, perhaps a little too forcefully, not actually expecting anyone to be in here, save for a few wayward troupe members. "Ah, I should have felt the testosterone coming from the room before I came in." She chirped, making her way over to Carrow, perching on the edge of his chair. She simply planned on sitting back and watching, instead of being in the spotlight this time.
Bernard tried to keep the disapointed look from his face when he heard his name called. "Hello, friend! The pleasure is all mine...?" Bernard extended his hand to the burly man near him, who he guessed to be a knight.
JillytheLurker changed name to Beonne
Thaddeus took Brutus' hand as offered but it soon dropped, his eyes following suit as the other man's attention was taken from him, and he skulked off for a moment, moving to pick a drink up for himself, pressing the tankard to his lips and taking a large gulp, eyes downcast, not noticing Eileen enter the room.
Bernard turned around quickly, at the sound of a familiar voice. "Chocolate lady! You know.. Ohh you're a trooper! Don't know how I missed that..." Bernard distractedly turned back to Brutus, leaving Carrow and Eileen the chocolate lady to speak.
Carrow glanced thrice at Eileen before he recognized her as herself, devoid of her pomp and frills. In a genuine show, he allowed her room to occupy the arm of his chair, smiling for solid ground. Where was Conan to handle matters like nobles? "Eileen, you are not planning on going out to the tavern this evening?"
Brutus shook Bernard's hand, perhaps slightly too enthusiastically, only eager to distance himself from Thaddeus, perhaps too eager and in the process created a rather awkward situation. "Ah, perhaps I should have introduced myself, I am Sir Brutus Scrimgeour," he glanced over Bernard's shoulder as he turned to speak to the woman, offering her a warm smile.
Bernard nodded, "I knew you to be a knight." He gave Brutus a warm smile. "How are you enjoying your service, Sir Scrimgeour?"
Beonne had paused just outside the entrance to the hall, peeking in around the corner to confirm her suspicions. It was indeed occupied by various courtiers - quite a few of which she knew in passing- but they all seemed so at ease that she feared to disrupt them. Her eyes fell on Eileen and she bit her lip in contemplation...the other woman was kind enough to have talked to her a little after one of the theater showings and she also the only one Beonne felt comfortable asking directions from. Carefully slipping into the room she counted on the fact most people took no notice of maids and stood along one wall, discreetly trying to wave to the actress.
Brutus offered a sheepish look, "Is it that obvious?" he shrugged, "I'm not employed in the palace, only here for a visit, but I am rather fond of being a knight. And yourself? How does England compare to Poland?"
Eileen fought the urge to roll her eyes. Chocolate Lady was certainly an odd nickname. Then again, the Duke was an odd man, like most nobility. She smiled at the very smiley blonde man, glancing over at Thaddeus for a moment, before then noticing a petite blonde nearby. Moving to sit on Carrow's lap, she grinned broadly at the girl, waving her over. "Beonne, isn't it? C'mere, dumpling."
Thaddeus grumbled to himself, dejected and upset, and he sat himself down once more, eyes dark as he glanced over to Brutus.
Bernard chuckled. "I spend many a hour around knights, I like to know my men." Bernard nodded and then grinned, always happy to rattle on about Poland. "England is beautiful as always, but I do miss my home. I do find London quite exciting! How are you enjoying the ah.. fair city?"
Carrow leaned back half in disbelief of Eileen, but no he had known her for too long now. Instead he opted to keep his mouth shut and returned to the parchment at hand.
Thaddeus grumble.
Emma joined the chat
Eileen made herself comfortable in Carrow's lap, turning her attention to Thaddeus for a moment. "Do cheer up, My Lord. All that frowning shall give you wrinkles."
Thaddeus stands and bows at the Queen's arrival, glaring over at Eileen, not giving any reply.
Beonne inwardly winced as her name was called across the room, cheeks flushing pink as she quickly moved towards the woman. Giving a small bobbing curtsy she kept her eyes to the floor, peeking up only once with a hopeful look to Eileen. "Hello again," she said with a small smile.
Carrow tries to stand to pay his respects but is too afraid to risk harm to Eileen and gives a genial nod in recognition
Brutus bowed his head deeply, "Well, Duke Bernard, I can promise you that you are in safe hands." He smiled, as he watched the man brighten visibly and speak about his home, allowing his attention to be grabbed by a name that seemed familiar, Beonne? He had heard it before. Then he heard Eileen speak to Thaddeus and turned only holding his gaze for a brief moment before he bowed, turning to the front of the room he saw the Queen and bowed deeply. "Your Grace,"
Eleri (maybe) joined the chat
Emma strode into her audience room easily, as guards were holding open the doors for her. She considered having horns go off to alert the people of her presence.. but no, that wasn't classy. The Queen didn't know who to talk to in this group of.. commoners. She blessed their bows with a smile.
Bernard frowned and half bowed to his least favorite woman in Britain.
Thaddeus sits himself down again, a deep frown on his lips and he was giving nothing but angry glares around the room, mug clutched tight in a white-knuckled hand. He was sloshing the drink back, taking full advantage of the lack of a parent at his side trying to regulate his drinking, and oh how he drank, one mug down already, another already half-way there, venomous glances shot at the back of Brutus' head.
Eleri (maybe) changed name to Eleri
Beonne is still sort of hunched over in a bow next to Eileen's chair, scooting sideways back towards the wall. While comfortable enough to approach the actress, the appearance of the queen makes the rules of social decorum harder to break.
Carrow pinches Eileen.
Eleri thought this all a fickle lot that she had as little interest in conversing with as Emma herself did. In fact the witch had no want to be in the room with any of these idiots at all and her face said just that. There was no smile on her lips, and no need for it and she gave the all pawns a bored look. She would much rather be in another room mocking them all with Emma who did enjoy that far too much.
Francois joined the chat
Eileen makes a face as she's pinched, smacking Carrow's quill out of his hand.
Emma turned and graced her cousin with a sour smile, and then noticed a familiar face. "Eleri, my dear, how your face lights up the room. Tell me, did you crawl past my guards again, or did they let you in?" Emma was sure to keep her voice low, as all of the ants stopped talking when she walked in the room. Not entertaining at all.
Francois has come in through a fantastical, magical, brilliant portal that Emma does not know about.
Bernard pointedly ignores his Queen. "Tell me, sir Brutus, your lands are Kent, am I right?" He smiled faintly, trying to remember Brutus' family.
Beonne just stands against the wall, feeling quite out of place and pressed for the need to escape.
Eleri found herself now looking wickedly coy at such a commentary, "Neither, guess again."
Emma raised her eyebrows. "Jumped through the walls? I would ask if you came through the sewers, but that's low, even for you."
Beonne changed name to King Lambert
Brutus stands upright and turns to Bernard, eyes darting to the Queen uncertainly. "I-yes, yes you are correct. My father is still Lord of course, but I am his heir," ah the perks of being related to the Queen.
Eileen actually stands up, getting off of Carrow's lap to curtsy as the King enters.
Carrow sighs as the ink splatters over parchment. "Eileen-----" he mumbles into her ear, and pinches her again
Eleri waved a hand flippantly, "Had I come through the sewers, I would smell far more pleasant then the persons in this room. Look your dear husband does grace us with his presence."
Bernard was about to ask Brutus how is lord father was doing when his mate entered. "Lambert," Bernard bowed lowly, casting a snide look at Emma.
Eileen clenches her jaw, ready to turn and pounce on Carrow.
Emma frowned. "He does? How kind of him." Emma put on a blazing smile and curtsied. "Darling Husband."
Carrow glares at Eileen. Daring her worst.
Thaddeus lazily stands himself up again as the King enters, bowing his head.
Brutus was also stopped mid-sentence as the King entered. While far more pleasant than the Queen, Brutus could not find it in him to bear the King any love. He bowed deeply once more, "Your Grace," he repeated.
King Lambert stands for a moment in the archway of the audience hall, overlooking the crowd of people with a small amount of mirth, walking towards them with a long, confident stride, nodding to people as he made a beeline for his wife. Taking her hand gently he pulled her from her curtsy. Placing a kiss to her skin he overlooks everyone else as he picks his head up. "I do trust you are all enjoying yourselves?"
Emma smiled and rose with her king. Her skin itched. "Oh yes, I am finding this all quite enjoyable."
Eleri bowed her head as though she is daring is not stupid, but has no words for king. Truthfully she knew little of him, and all she did know was colored by Emma.
Eileen turns and flicks the side of Carrow's head.
Francois comes in, rather late, looking as suave and French as ever, gold brocade over his vests and sleeves flowing as he hurried into the room, pausing to look over the group, not sure he knew anybody just by sight.
King Lambert with a smile he hoped was reassuring and kind he bent a tad closer to his wife and said more quietly, "Do not enjoy too much hm? I would hate for you to be troubled by our little...gift." Giving her hand a small squeeze he turned on his heel, heading towards Bernard, a wide grin splitting his lips in two. "Cousin!"
Brutus answered the King's question with a pleasant smile, he was not confident enough to speak directly to the King without firmly believing he would ruin it somehow. He caught movement in the corner of his eye in the direction of the troupers, yet did not think it would be polite to turn and look at them.
Carrow manages to push his ledger of papers farther onto the table, out of grasping range of Eileen's shorter arms before falling back and pinching her again about the thigh.
Thaddeus glaring at Brutus still.
Emma smiled at her husband, and forced herself to blush. She was very thankful when he walked away. "Oh yes, gift.
Bernard beamed at his friend. "How are you, old friend? I haven't seen you much of late."
Brutus turned to look at Thaddeus for a moment, the color draining out of his face when he caught the glare, he coughed and looked away, unsure what to make of this and instead turned his attention to the nobility he was presented with, trying to remain as still as possible in this rather awkward conversation.
Carrow grabs a flagon of spiced mead and gulps the first swig down
Eileen quickly sat back down in Carrow's lap, ignoring everyone else as she grabs hold of his crotch, wondering if he'd spit his mead out.
Eleri wrinkled her nose. "A gift says the man who does not have to carry it for nine months."
King Lambert reached out to take his cousin's arm, pulling him into a manly embrace and releasing him with a pat on the arm. "I doubt I could be better at the moment, cousin. I'm afraid some affairs of state have caught my attentions. Ah, will you introduce me to your companion? Oh, just a moment." Turning with a slow smirk, the king set his gaze to Eileen and Carrow. "Practicing a new comedy are we?" he asked.
Emma laughed slightly and grinned at her only friend. "Exactly. There isn't a spell for that is there?" Emma jested playfully, the word spell leaving a sour taste in her mouth. "So, how did you get in? Perhaps I should give you a key."
Thaddeus joined the chat
Bernard embraced his cousin happily. "'Tis Brutus Scrimigeor of Kent," Bernard chirped happily, carefully glazing over the fact that the Kents and the Crown had never gotten along. Bernard turned his head with his cousin. "Thespians are quite amusing. Their writing process is amazing." Like wild animal customs.
Eleri smirked at the Queen's reaction and the simple fact that she, and not the king, could draw a far more genuine reaction from her. "If there were such a spell we would be thought of as actually conducive to society and not a threat it." She tapped her chin almost playful in recollection of how in fact she had entered the castle, "The guard did remember my face, how kind of him." She did enjoy mocking Emma of such things.
Carrow felt warmth spread in parts of him where he did not bid it. Parts of him grew where he did not bid it, but his glare at Eileen was mustered and contrived. Without bidding it, he laughed, and slapped her where he could reach, an area which happened to be her outer thigh
Thaddeus sighs and finished his drink, pouring another before he made he snorted, looking over at Eileen, 'Shouldn't you be behaving yourself?' He chimed, head leaning against the chair.
Eileen bit back a yelp, ignoring Carrow and Thaddeus for a moment as the King addressed her. "We're trying, Your Majesty."
Carrow had not heard his name, and balked.
Emma rolled her eyes. "Naturally." Emma smiled a sinister grin. "If you were a normal woman I might mention how the guard remembered more than your face... but you are no ordinary woman."
Eileen tightened her grip on Carrow, shooting a glare at Thaddeus.
King Lambert shooting a warning glance to the two thespians to behave themselves, the monarch returned his attention to his cousin and the man beside him. Nodding his head to the man, he tucked his hands carefully behind his back. "And what brings you to court hm?" he asked conversationally. "Shouldn't it be your father coming to take advantage of my grand hospitality?" The king smiled humorously.
Thaddeus bites his teeth together, jaw tensing before he stood, pushing his mug aside and giving a bow, 'Your Majesty.' He said simply before bidding non-verbal goodbyes to Eileen and her friend. A sigh came from his lips and he crossed the floor, completely ignoring Brutus as he left the room.
Carrow straightened his back and ignored the squeeze.
Brutus coughed, biting his lip roughly before smiling at the King, "Your Majesty. My father sends his regards and apologizes he could not be here, there were matters he had to attend to in Kent," he offered a genuine smile, before being distracted by Thaddeus leaving the room.
Bernard nodded nervously, and shot Lambert a don't-offend-them-with-your-awesomeness look, and shot Brutus a sorry-mate look.
Eleri thought that if anything else to remember her by had been seen then that in itself was magic as the last time she had worn a very heavy black velvet cape and not shed it. "Ordinary is so very dull, is it not my golden summer Queen?"
Eileen released Carrow, though she swore under her breath that she would get back at him, and stood, curtsying towards the nobles before she hurried off after Thaddeus.
Carrow once freed, was able to stand and bow the lowest of the low, his nose coming an inch from scraping the floor before the royal couple. "My Queen, King"
Brutus glanced at Bernard out of the corner of his eye, the smile on his face unwavering.
Emma felt her lips twitch. "Ordinary is dull for the likes of us, and necessary for the likes of them," Emma made a gesture to the ants. "Speaking of gold, and summer, do you have any clue as to why there are bumbling rich men tripping out of carriges to get into my castle this season?"
King Lambert gave an understanding nod to Brutus, tipping back on his heels for a moment. "I do hope they were not too serious?" he asked with mild concern. Casting a look about the room he took quick note of those that left and shot his cousin a heavy look from underneath his eyebrows. "Goodness. I appear to have chased quite a few people from the room. Was it something I said cousin?" His face was serious but his eyes twinkled with amusement and the king hoped his good mood would soon effect the other courtiers. They seemed rather...tense.
Brutus clenched his jaw mildly, "Serious enough to keep him from your beautiful city, I'm afraid." Brutus watched the thespian woman chase after Thaddeus and resisted the urge to frown.
Eleri gave a curt nod in agreement then adopted a slow drawl to speak, "Oh but the usual, to bed a pretty maid, drink and eat what they do not have to pay for."
Bernard smirked slightly. "It must have been," He jested. "Though I would credit it more to your lovely wife than yourself. By yourselves you make peoples knees shake.. the both of you? I'm feeling dizzy myself."
Emma frowned. "My castle is not a brothel." She snorted with laughter then. "I apologizing for lying to you, friend. My castle is exactly like a brothel. I should make people pay for their nightly fornicating."
King Lambert gave a nod to Brutus. "Do let me know if I can be of some help...?" he told the other man. "Oh goodness Scimiegor. My cousin appears to be dizzy! I do hope we won't have to catch him like some sensitive lady in a faint. I do hope my wife hasn't abused you over much cousin? I know how...delicate you are." Letting the good natured sting settle with Bernard, he could not help but glance to the stately image of his wife. Many feelings assailed him and thankfully affection was amongst them. His smile softened.
Bernard fought the urge to roll his eyes at his king, that was something saved for behind closed doors. The man bit back a remark about Lambert wanting to catch him, and followed his cousins' gaze to his new Queen. He fought the urge to frown.
Eleri gave a laugh. "A diseased brothel." She meant both in terms of being not only sick but where the persons were not in the least bit attractive either. "A very good way to replenish one's coffers is it not? Start with the two thespians who fancied themselves discreet."
Brutus nodded in return, "Certainly," the pleasant smile unwavering, though he said nothing more on the subject. He glanced sideways at Bernard and grinned, forcing out a small chuckle at the King's joke. He glanced over at the Queen as well, pressing his lips together. "I fear Duke Bernard is right, the presence of both Your Majesties is enough to make a Knight's knees shake," he bowed deeply, "It has been an honor."
Brutus bye
Brutus left the chat 8 seconds ago
Carrow twiddles his thumbs
Emma laughed with her friend. "Ah yes, if not for their entertaining ways on stage.. well." Emma rolled her eyes and looked out near the doors, where people were shuffling out. "Could I charge more for those who entertain themselves with various partners? In my halls no less."
King Lambert nodded to Brutus as he left, soon unclasping his hands and making for a chair near Carrow, motioning for her cousin to join him. "Let us give those weak knees of yours a rest, cousin."
Bernard chuckled, and nodded goodbye to Brutus. He sat in the chair in a relaxed position. "My knees feel much better now, thank you for being so worried." Bernard smirked playfully.
Eleri "Then they would have no use at all, pity." She did not see the irony of this statement at all and wore a face of contempt. "This is a brothel that I would have to be paid to attend."
Emma laughed. "A heavy penny."
Emma realized that may be rude. "No.. perhaps a gold coin? Whatever suits your fancy." Emma gave Eleri a look before claiming a more innocent facial expression.
Carrow rose and stood before the King and his Queen
Carrow: "Your graces, I beg of you the honor of my entertainment, if my troupe would only allow it at this late hour. Instead I would offer my latest prose, if you would wish to hear it."
Eleri gave a snort of laughter that was not in the least bit lady like at all then arched a brow. "Gold yes, gold suits everyone's fancy," and tucked a stray hair that had fallen from an elaborate hair style behind Emma's ear.
King Lambert looked from his cousin to the actor, looking him up and down for a moment. Giving the man a pointed look he said, "I do hope it does not require the use of a lady's thighs to pinch?" Giving the thespian a good natured smile and a save of his hand, the king nodded. "By all means. Entertain us."
Emma blushed suddenly and turned to where her husband was sitting. "The thespian wishes to entertain us. Would you like to watch, or go?" Emma wasn't sure what she wanted Eleri to say.
Carrow blushed deepest crimson before reciting: Two households, both alike in dignity,In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.From forth the fatal loins of these two foesA pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
Eleri used her wickedly amused grin again."I could easily spare time for a few indulgences."
Carrow hissed "Eileen"
Bernard sat, paying attention. Star-crossed lovers. That sounded promising.
King Lambert glanced expectantly to his wife, hoping quietly that she would sit herself close to him. He attempted to look inviting, giving her a small smile before turning his attention back to Carrow.
Carrow hissed louder. "Eileen! I cann'no do this withou't ye!"
Eileen threw open the doors, waltzing in. "Whose misadventured piteous overthrows. Do with their death bury their parents' strife.The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, And the continuance of their parents' rage..."
Emma gave Eleri another look before going to sit next to her husband, who looked more like a kitten than a fierce King. Suicide though, that sounded lovely.
Carrow picked up the diatribe. "The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, And the continuance of their parents' rage, Which, but their children's end, nought could remove, Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; The which if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend."
Eileen placed her hands upon her hips. "And then they both died. The End."
Carrow nodded and did the same.
Bernard blinked.
Bernard started applauding vigorously.
Emma raised her eyebrows and then clapped, once. She smiled at them. Where was the suicide? She wanted to see it.
Eileen gave a low curtsy, returning to the table to finish Carrow's drink for him.
Eleri wished she took the option of leaving with Emma.
King Lambert sat at the actresses abrupt description of the ending and he sat quietly in his chair for a moment before turning to look at his cousin. With a small smile and roll of his eyes, the monarch also put his hands together. "I do hope there will be more?" he asked.
Carrow bowed and fell into his chair, Eileen already falling on top of him. Bigger.
Carrow: *bugger
Eileen glanced up at the King. "Do you mean, love after death? Can we do that, Carrow?"
Carrow grimaced. Love after]/i] death?!? he's give it a shot to be sure.
Emma sneered at her cousin in law discreetly before turning to her husband. "I will be in my chambers if you so need me," She stood and curtsied, motioning Eleri to follow behind her.
King Lambert gave a small shake of his head. "I mean in the middle my dear. The rest of the play?" he said gently. He reached to give his wife's hand a squeeze before she left, sinking down further into his chair. "I would like to know how these two star crossed lovers died."
Bernard nodded, he wanted to see the love!
Eleri thought that all star crossed lovers died stupidly for a vein cause. She did not give a damn about the middle of the play and thought something else was far more interesting. Like a shadow she went very quickly after Emma.
