3 Swords in the Stone

[reigne]

[It's a long time, before he says it. His conversation with Merlin, and Igraine after their absolutely awful introduction to each other. It's primarily, the factor that she's dead, as his own mother is, and that this is the only opportunity she shall have, to know any form of her son...That gets him to give in]

My mother, Igraine Pendragon, has recently arrived within the castle. I trust you will all treat her kindly.

[It would seem like an odd thing to announce, if it weren't for the fact that he's making a gesture; to her, and perhaps to Merlin. But he's still not entirely pleased about it, which is precisely why he's decided to venture into the stables. It's quiet here, and a ride will help him clear his head...His favourite hobby, next to hunting.

Except he can't seem to move past idly holding on to the reigns with one hand, and leaning his head on the horses neck and just breathing, trying to steady himself. He hopes if his own mother, from his world, ever learns of this...That she'll not take offence. That she would forgive him.

His father would not have]


[ooc: backdated to Christmas day, for over the journal, or in person for last minute smooches, if you would like]

Comments

[workaphilic]

[Quiet that's bound to be interrupted eventually.

Wintering his bees takes careful attention, and it has Sherlock out on the castle grounds nearly every day. Occasionally he'll pop into the stables on his way back, if he thinks there's a newly arrived animal, or if he's bored. Today it's a bit of the latter plus a bit of deducing.

He exhales loudly to announce his entrance, and knocks his boots against the door frame to dislodge the snow.]

Ah. Hello. Hope I'm not interrupting.

[yes he is]

[reigne]

[He stands up properly, and shakes his head briefly. Interrupting? Hardly. At least, Arthur is so often in thought, so often wallowing in his mistakes, going over where it might have been that he'd failed Morgana...The meaning of this place and all that he's forgotten here...

It's hard to interrupt it. It's as constant as breathing. Still...He thinks he was better off thinking further on the ride, rather than in here.

He realizes a minute later, that he's let the silence drag on for far too long]

You're not. I was only getting used to the horse.

[workaphilic]

Of course.

[He needs a reason to be here. He reaches out to the horse that looks the most receptive to strangers, and pats its neck over the door of the stall. He stays like that for a few moments, quietly.

Then, without looking over:]

Suppose I should reintroduce myself, then?

[scinlae]

[ She hovers in the entrance when she finds him, arms crossed underneath her chest. It irks her, she realizes, something about it irks her, accepting a woman with a different face but a familiar name. ]

You've accepted her then.

[reigne]

[Of course she seeks him out, the one time he doesn't want to be found. Isn't that just how she's always been? Frustrated timing]

Have we not accepted Merlin?

[Well, accepted is a bit of a stretch, he supposes. But this is entirely different]

[scinlae]

It is not the same. Merlin is not your servant, he is not our f─ [ The word feels bitter on her tongue, tasting of a poison that never quiet let her. ]

He is Merlin, yes, but he is not the shade of a dead woman.

[willrememberthat]

[Arthur's been followed! Clem pokes her head into the stall, watching him with concern.]

Are you okay?

[reigne]

[He takes another moment to steady himself, before he lifts his head and smiles at her]

Yes, I am. Are you enjoying your Christmas thus far?

[Not at all a subtle topic shift, oops!]

[willrememberthat]

[She scrunches up her face a little. She sees what you're doing there, Arthur.]

Mmmhm.

I saw the journal. Is it your mom? You don't seem happy that she's here...

[save_the_souls]

[ Allen was attempting to evade crowds today, being Christmas and all. He was walking across the grounds, on the way to the castle. He passes by the stable, seeing through the open door..Arthur acting as though there is something wrong. ]

[ Frowning, he'll decide to approach, slipping into the stable though keeping near the entrance ]

Arthur? Is everything all right?

[reigne]

Yes, thank you.

[It's immediate, and it's properly the least honest he's ever been with Allen, even if he doesn't remember it. He's a terrible liar even when he isn't trying, and he's not now, not really] And you, how are you faring?

[heloise]

[ Horses make good company and remind her of her Narcissus. Lucrezia is hiding behind one of the stalls, feeding apples to her favorite steed, the tall and dark one. Stables make an unlikely resting place, of course, but it is fitting. Even the blessed Madonna rested thus, once.

She contemplates leaving him be, with how he seems content with solitude, if only he seemed less troubled. ]

Arthur?

[reigne]

[He'll turn his head slightly to smile at her, just the barest curve of his mouth. It's brief, but at least, if it were at any other time, he'd be pleased to see her]

Hello, Lucrezia. [A pause] Have you been here long?

[He's not embarrassed per se, but he likely will be later, when he has time to think on the encounter]

[Dictated]

[lightbranded]

Igraine Pendragon, is it. [Will says the name quietly, almost in a troubled fashion. He knew his legends. How could he not, with who and what he was. And if that was true, then the kind woman he had met... The version of her in his own world would have been Bran's grandmother.

And Will wasn't entirely sure what to think about this. That he had met her, and that Bran most likely would never have that chance.]

We've met, although I never got her full name at the time. She seemed very kind.

[reigne]

That is correct.

[He falls quiet immediately after confirming it. It's odd for him to have her complimented so, when she 'seemed' is the only formation of an opinion he can have of her as well. He already knows more about this woman than the one who actually birthed him, and he still barely knows anything at all.

It's unsettling. He lets a minute or so pass, before he continues] I am glad to hear so. She leaves quite the impression, doesn't she?

Dictated forever

[whichwayyoulean]

[Mothers. That's never a good subject, but he knows not everyone is utterly miserable with theirs as he is with his own, so]

Congratulations.

[reigne]

Thank you. It...Was quite the unique surprise. One I did not expect to receive.

[And that's putting it lightly. Yay Team Mommy Issues?]

[commandsthewind]

[Elizabeth couldn't hate this situation more than she already did. Never mind that he was burdened enough, that in that imperious way of his he was going to have the gall to lecture her about her foolishness.

As if she didn't already know. But he'd ended up being dragged into this. And someone should be told the complete truth. So instead of doing it impersonally over the journals, she went and found him in the stables.

Not that she sounded any better than he did. The grief and rage had burned off once again.]

Arthur, I would speak with you.

[reigne]

[There's the moment he hears it in her voice, that it's serious. That she doesn't sound any better than he does, and for reasons he doesn't know. For just one second after the realization, he squeezes his eyes shut and wishes he could back away.

Playing polite and in good spirits was easier, when the topic was fanciful or nothing important. A mere greeting and then a parting of ways.

This is going to be neither, but it's not in him to turn another away. So he pulls back from the horse and nods, once]

I have time to spare, my lady. What is it you wish to speak of?

latelatelate

[songsandstories]

Your mother is here? [She knows a thing or two about dead family members arriving here, dead mothers especially.]

I hope both you and her are well.

/touches lateness is a-okay

[reigne]

She arrived a few days ago, in time for this...Christmas holiday. An interesting move on the castle's part, I should think.

[Or whoever the real culprit is. He remains unconvinced that the castle could honestly be it. And, oh Sansa, this is one of the last things he would like to have in common with you. Especially with how much he adores Catelyn]

We are, thank you. And how are you faring?

[draca]

[ It is then the horses wicker nervously, tails flicking and feet becoming restless. Something has bothered them certainly and for a moment it is definitely difficult to figure out what─that is until a large black-and-red shape flies into the stables, perching itself up in the rafters.

It hisses and stretches it's wings, flapping as the horses neigh nervously. ]

Drogon! [ Not so soon after the shape (a dragon no less, the size of a small dog) has gotten comfortable a girl no older than seventeen enters, dressed queerly for the winter months save for a heavy cloak to block the cold. ]

[reigne]

[It's an immediate reaction to pull on the sword at his waist, to prepare for some form of threat, especially when that creature, so familiar in shape appears to hide within the rafters.

However, the voice of a young woman, heard shortly before her own appearance into the stables, stays his hand. It's a pet of some sort, from the looks of things, and in so far, it remains harmless.

Interesting.

But lady, what the hell are you wearing, because it isn't clothes]

[secondchances]

[Steph spends more time in the stables, lately, now that she's fairly comfortable with riding on her own. She calls to Arthur before she realizes that he may not be in the best of moods.]

Hey... hi.

[reigne]

[Awww, Stephanie, sometimes there just aren't any words for the amount of awkward that you inhabit]

Hello, Stephanie. Going out for a ride?