CLOSED ♔ it was anything but hear the voice that says that we're all basically alone

[behindcloseddoors]

♬ Imitosis- Andrew Bird

WHO || Arthur Pendragon, Wynnefalshond, Dumage Moulet, Mark Sandazhard [closed]
WHAT || ? ? ?
WHERE || A first floor hallway
WHEN || Tues, Feb 21st, evening, right before the Chicago briefing
HOW || Actionspam or prose or whatnot.

Just because Arthur almost died in training less than a week ago is hardly any reason to slack, and Fred and company don't go any lighter on him for what happened. There might be a bit of good-natured ribbing about getting nearly killed by a girl (whenever the women weren't in earshot), particularly by the elder fighters from the Shadow World who invested less awe in the Arthurian legends in the first place, but they were all too happy to spar anytime. So by the end of each training session, even a warrior in good shape would find himself winded and in need of a break. It's not quite time for evening meal yet as Arthur descends from the second floor in the direction of the squire rooms and baths.

It's unusual to find Wynn in this section of the castle, as he tends to make himself rare in the first place, barely making appearances even in the training oriented rooms of the castle. Hearing his voice, therefore, emanating from a slightly ajar door in the stretch of rooms largely reserved for squires rings as slightly unusual. He seems to be in the middle of some parting words.

"... think you might benefit from sharing a few words with him, in time. Though for the time being, I would suggest focusing on the assignment you'll be receiving today."

An answering male voice from within asks: "But if you hear from Jack, you'll--" His voice is laced with strained anxiety, and Wynn cuts him off smoothly.

"Of course." And with that, Wynn moves out into the hallway, where he sees Arthur just a couple yards away. He pauses, hand on the door handle, looking as if he was actually so preoccupied that he was surprised to see anyone there, so much as he can evince surprise at anything.

He recovers within the span of an instant, nodding to Arthur in greeting as he steps towards him, though he angles to walk past him without really seeming inclined to stop.

Comments

[nosdacaraid]

It's only now that he seems to realize that he's backed himself against the wall on this one, and immediately the grave man shatters back into the frazzled one, the incredibly thin-sounding excuse falling off his lips: "I'm just a sucker for happy endings."

sense motive: 15?

[king]

Arthur's expression goes hard. "Don't ever lie to me." Dishonesty is the one thing he will not abide.

[nosdacaraid]

It's an obvious lie of exclusion - he probably isn't kidding about loving his happy endings, but that certainly isn't why this matters so much to him. Arthur's sudden intensity draws his eyes back up, and for a moment he looks once again like he did when Dumage yanked the door open on them - as if this might very well be the single worst moment of his entire existence. He stares back at the other silently for a long moment trying to compose himself beyond what seems like a terror that grips him to the very core.

What seems clear is that it's not even a fear of Arthur, but of what this moment might mean.

Finally, he says, in a tight voice that seems to beg the other to just let it lie: "It isn't something I can talk about."

[king]

"Why not?" Arthur's leaning back now, sprawling further in the chair, as though he's willing to wait Mark out. He has on the expression that usually means he's about to order someone thrown in the dungeons, annoyed and imperious.

[nosdacaraid]

Something in Arthur's shift in posture seems to really dig at Mark, and his lip twitches slightly at the King's attitude.

"Because it's personal," he retorts. "And it doesn't have anything to do with you."

[king]

"And I suppose all those questions you just asked me were not personal in the slightest." He's getting a bit offended now. If the man has secrets, then that's all well and good, but whatever he says, they seem tied to Arthur in some way. Arthur and the Veil, both of which he considers his business.

Abruptly, he stands. "I don't know what you think you're playing at, Sir Sandazhard, but I've had enough. I was willing to overlook a bit of oddity given I found you fraternizing with that Dumage woman, but this goes beyond that. If it's my life you're so interested in, you can go and pick up a book."

[nosdacaraid]

"I never claimed you had to answer any of them," is his response, and it's obvious that his own frustration with the conversation is burning off the remainder of his nerves, leaving a hard anger that matches Arthur's.

"This was probably a bad idea. I don't know what Wynn was thinking." His words are spoken through nearly gritted teeth, as if he'd really love to go chew their leader out. Which, in itself, is an unusual way to hear anyone talking about Wynn around the castle, in place of the usual reverential tones or good-natured humor.

He doesn't seem content to leave it at that, however, and adds insistently, sounding a bit annoyed: "And we weren't fraternizing."

[king]

"Of course, I'm sure her lip-paint just found it's way to your jaw," Arthur scoffs, his eyes flashing. The mention of Wynn reminds him that he'd suggested Arthur speak to Mark, had wanted him to be here, perhaps in answer to the question of what was weighing so heavily on his shoulders.

Arthur folds his arms, takes a deep breath through his nose. "I answered them because I trusted you," he says, past tense but trying to find his calm.

[nosdacaraid]

Mark seems to weigh the pros and cons of explaining the whole 'lip paint' scenario, but just drops it, focusing on the other part of Arthur's statement.

"I didn't mean to imply I didn't trust you. It's just it's... " A little bit of his own anger leaks away as he searches for the words. "It's a sensitive matter. And I guess it's not just personal, really, but I wasn't lying about it not being about you. But it has to do with more than just me, and so I can't just talk about it with anybody." He seems to realize what he just said, contextually. "Even... King Arthur, I guess."

[king]

Arthur finds his annoyance lessening also, and he realizes his behavior has perhaps been inappropriate for a squire. "I may be King, but I'm not your king," he says. Were he, this would be a different matter indeed, and perhaps some of Arthur's manner comes from being unused to refusals, to having things kept from him. Lies and betrayal tend to raise his ire disproportionately, though he does not know particularly why. "If I've acted out of turn, then I apologize."

And he sits back down again, no longer about to storm out.

"What would you like to talk about, then," he offers generously. "Although I truly doubt Wynnefalshond sent me here to make small-talk, I'm not adverse to it."

[nosdacaraid]

"You might be surprised what Wynn does or doesn't do," he says, and there's a hint of wry humor there that seems to indicate he's much more nearly himself again - whatever that means, in his case.

Either way, he fixes Arthur with a curious gaze, now that he has permission, more or less. "How long have you been King?" To clarify, he adds: "I meant... how old were you when you .." And he pantomimes yanking a sword. Which would... probably be a bizarre visual if Arthur didn't have the context, but whatever.

[king]

"Would I," says Arthur neutrally. He's fairly sure Wynn's lost the capacity to surprise him in any real way.

Let's just be grateful that Arthur does understand that he's talking about a sword in a stone and not some kind of awkward masturbatory technique. But only just. Because: "A month ago, perhaps?"

And that's why it's a parallel universe.

"I mean, I've been king for near a year now, and regent for a good year before that due to my father's... ill-health. But it really wasn't long ago that I found Excalibur in the rock."

[nosdacaraid]

Very grateful, indeed...

Mark manages to look slightly surprised by that, for a moment, at least, before he seems to reconcile with the idea. "Huh. So much for the Disney version."

This really only seems to make him sound more invested in the conversation, and he leans forward slightly, all ears now.

"So that wasn't how you were identified as the true King. Myth busted." He chuckles just a little bit. And then seems to realize he is only amusing himself with the reference, and adds: "How'd you become King, then?"

[king]

Arthur seems fairly impassive, although his eyebrow quirks upwards as he gathers he's probably missing some important information to truly be able to find that joke unfunny.

"My father died," he says, blunt because he doesn't know any other way to be about it. That's a memory he retained to the nuance, of Uther in his arms, bleeding out. "I was his only son. Isn't that the way it normally works?"

[nosdacaraid]

A shadow crosses Mark's face at that, but he doesn't look away. He can do the math: Arthur said he'd only been King for nearly a year, which means it was less than a year ago that his Father died.

"... Usually," he admits, and his tone manages to make it clear that he feels a little chagrined for having brought the subject up that way.

"I'm sorry," he adds, brow knitting with sincere sympathy. "That can't have been easy." Could it? He had no idea what Arthur's relationship with his father actually was like, and it seemed a poor idea to rely on legends to fill in the gap.

[king]

"It was not," admits Arthur, though his shoulders are tight with tension and he's not inclined to say more than that. He still considers the whole thing a private matter, perhaps even more because he had to share his grief with the whole kingdom. "There's a lot of talk about my legend here, but I want nothing more than to be as great a king as my father was."

[nosdacaraid]

Mark seems to pick up on the body language at least, and cuts out that line of questioning quickly enough. Instead, he says quietly: "Sounds like a noble goal to me."

His own posture seems to be dragged down by the subject again as he speaks however, his shoulders dropping slightly, his eyes raking the floor.

[king]

"Sorry. Miserable topic." Arthur grimaces, feeling about as down as Mark now looks. "You couldn't have known."

[nosdacaraid]

"I guess not," he says, but he doesn't sound one hundred percent certain of that. For a moment, he appears to teeter on the edge of saying something else, but winds up biting it down and visibly switching tracks.

"You had to have come with some happier memories too, though."

[king]

Such a confusing young man.

"Yeah, I suppose so." Some memories just feel good without the specifics, but other are still technicolour surround sound experiences. "Winning battles, mucking around with Merlin, tournaments..." He gives Mark a little eyebrow raise, as if to hark back to the fraternizing. "Being in love."

[nosdacaraid]

The look on his face pulls a smile out of Mark, who asks "Guinevere?" before really seeming to think that through. Then he adds, sheepishly: "Er, I mean. Is that her--" He clears his throat. "What's her name?" /World's worst backpedaling.

[king]

"Guinevere," Arthur repeats and confirms, his eyebrow raising again, though this time he at least seems amused by it, in addition to being thoughtful. Perhaps he's just pleased to know that what was between he and Gwen was important enough to survive the ages.

[nosdacaraid]

Oh, good, at least he didn't screw up the time-space continuum or anything. You never know.

"Right." The smile stays in place, so there's a certain bittersweet wistfulness about it. "So what's she like?"

[king]

"Beautiful." Arthur's chin lifts slightly as he summons together each scrap of memory. His eyes go distant. "Proud. Hard-working. Honest." But he cuts off his walk down the bumpy cobblestones of memory lane and looks back to Mark with a somewhat rueful smile. "The blacksmith's daughter."

[nosdacaraid]

That one seems to take him entirely by surprise. "She wasn't noble-born? I thought-- Didn't--" Throw out those preconceptions, Mark buddy. "Huh."