oh, piled fathers, soft sighing daughters

[futurarex]

Date & Time: December 29th, afternoon of
Location: the streets of the city
Characters: Arthur Pendragon + Arya Stark (which means a direwolf, too!)
Summary: in a land of displacement and a time of kidnappings, the strolling of one young prince takes him right in the path of a girl and her wolf. this will end super well. just your standard run of the mill random meeting log!




With precious little to do in the city besides train and wait for something to happen, Arthur often finds himself--well, they are not walks. Walking implies a certain amount of leisure, and there is little leisure in his walks. It's more like a patrol, the way he might patrol Camelot when tense. He doesn't don his full armor--perhaps he ought to, given Morgana's presence in the city. But there is little that armor would do to save him from sorcery, when all was said and done, and he will not look a coward.

So he goes out only in his tunic and ringmail and gloves, his sword at his side. There is rarely a threat that he sees--things to be wary of, perhaps--but today is different. Today he sees a wolf.

A wolf, the largest he's ever seen, moving through the streets as if it belongs there. Arthur stops short, first, his hand at his sword--a better weapon than no weapon, but if he must face a wolf, he'd prefer to do so with crossbow or spear. But it does not matter; he has no time to waste on wishing. A wolf cannot be permitted to stalk the city, making prey of all that it sees, and so he draws his sword and moves after it, as quietly as he can, scanning the street to see where it's gotten to--

Comments

[innominata]

"Cat."

[futurarex]

Cat. And she reminds him of a cat, wary and angry.

"I am Prince Arthur Pendragon, of Camelot. Should you have need of any help, Cat, I would offer mine. Even if I have no wolf."

[innominata]

She starts. " You're a prince?"

[futurarex]

He's used to having people start when they find out his true title--and he's still more used to people here starting when they hear Camelot, which always (perhaps foolishly, perhaps vainly) makes his chest tighten a little in pride. Camelot gains great fame as a good and fair kingdom.

But this seems more a case of the former recognition of title and less of Camelot. "I am, yes. Crown prince and only heir to my father's throne."

[innominata]

"Aren't princes s'posed to be surrounded by people?"

She snickers suddenly. "What would happen if you caught lice walking around here? Can princes scratch?"

[futurarex]

She's jumped from indifference to outright laughing at him, which is not appreciated. Not the sort of reaction you want when you've just revealed that you're a prince.

"Of course they can scratch," he answers, somewhat snappishly, "but I'm not going to catch lice, because I'll have a wash tonight. What sort of question is that? And they're frequently surrounded by people, but there are far too many people in this city for my liking anyway, so here I am."

[innominata]

Oh no, she's having fun now. "So what would happen if you started scratching and your crown fell off? Would you have to get a new one because it touched the floor? If people laughed, would you have your guards take them out?"

[futurarex]

Why is this amusing. And why is he being laughed at. It's difficult for Arthur to taking teasing at best--some scruffy girl mocking him for something that isn't even funny is greeted with even less humor.

"It's a crown, not a piece of food," he tells her, somewhat stiffly. "If it were to fall off, I'd put it back on--but it wouldn't. And people wouldn't laugh at me, either--you're being ridiculous."

[innominata]

"Is it 'cause they're too scared of what you'd do?" Her tone remains just shy of mocking. "Do you execute a lot of people?"

[futurarex]

"Laughing at a prince gets you time in the stocks, not a beheading." And he can hear that mockery in her tone, still, so he fixes her with a flat stare. "Honestly. Do you know anything at all. If it's only the stocks, they'restill around later to apologize. Not that there's ever any laughing to begin with."

[innominata]

"Braavos doesn't have princes or kings. And our Sealord isn't so insecure in his power that he'll throw people in stocks just for laughing."

She fixes him with scornful look. "You must be chasing every drunk. What a good job. Is there even drink in your kingdom?"

[futurarex]

"Of course there's drink," he replies, rolling his eyes. "Just ask my idiot manservant, he's in the tavern often enough. He'll extol its virtues to you if he's not found a tavern here. And as I'm a prince, don't you think I have people to chase the drunks for me? And how the hell don't you have kings," he adds, after a beat of consideration, "what d'you people do with yourselves?"

[innominata]

"Don't you know anything?" she mimics him as she turns to leave.

[futurarex]

"That's not an answer," he tells her, sharply, but only because she ought not to talk to him in that way. "If I asked a question, I want the answer to it. There are no kingdoms without kings--none that run with any efficiency, anyway."

[innominata]

She only pauses long enough to fix him with a disbelieving look. "That's because it's not a kingdom, idiot; it's the greatest of the Free Cities. The Iron Bank of Braavos alone has the power to unmake kings if it wanted. Braavos never had a king and it never will. We don't need kings. If you want to risk sitting a madman or a cruel tyrant on a throne just because he's the eldest son, that's on you. Ours is the better way."

[futurarex]

He stares at her with some disbelief of his own, studying her incredulously. Does she truly mean what she says? He cannot fathom such a place--surely it is capricious, and dangerous, for all her talk of freedom. A city require someone to rule it.

"Sorry-- what's better about your way?" he says, somewhat sharply, as he steps toward her. "No man has the power to unmake a king! Your city is weak without someone to rule it in the way that it needs. Any man that you choose to rule could be just as weak, just as foolish--just as mad. But a king is trained to rule from his birth. He is only cruel if he is raised cruel."

[innominata]

She stares at him a moment before declaring, "You are so stupid."

Rather than waste her breath on a soft-minded fool, she walks away.