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Arthur sat high in his favourite tree at the edge of the forest surveying the valley below. The movements through this valley had been slow this season, partially confirming the rumours that there were preparations for war going on in the south. This road only led to the northern outposts and a few scattered villages, if the men were being kept south this year there was no reason to send new men and increased supply to the north. Though it was useful to know the comings and goings of the humans the elves were not concerned with another war, Arthur knew of many that existed between men since his birth; the trials and tribulations of humans were not a concern to the elves.
Arthur kept his gaze astutely ahead, cataloguing the changes in the trees and plants since the last time he’d been out here. He did not even move to acknowledge the low whistle that alerted him to the arrival of one of the other patrols.
“Hello, Robert.” Arthur greeted, when the other elf finally landed below him, his stare unperturbed from where he watched a young rabbit hop along the currently empty road.
“Must you show us all up?” Robert asks by way of greeting.
Now Arthur’s eyes do shift from their task, as he replies, “And what do you mean by that?”
Robert huffs a little before he speaks, “I mean it isn’t bad enough that you seem to make ever council member look foolish, as if they should know every detail of every aspect of the clan members lives…”
Arthur gives him a look that pointedly says that he thinks they should.
“But you also spend more time on lookout, and in patrol then the men who are supposed to be on it.”
“And this is a problem, why?” Arthur asks with a hint of condescension.
“Because I am the captain of the guard, and you are making me look bad.”
Arthur’s only reply is to give a look and a shrug, as if to say not my problem before he turns back to the open meadow in front of him.
“Arthur.” Robert whines a bit as he attempts to reengage Arthur’s attention.
Arthur offers a long put upon sigh before turning back to Robert.
“Really, is this about your father? I know that Counsel Fischer is a bit much at times but Robert you are doing perfectly fine at your job, and the guard is much more organized and well trained then they’ve been in a century at least. Neither you, nor your men, need to put in the hours I do. I do it because I do need to know more than the rest of the council about the workings of the clan, because all of the clan’s men need a voice and I’m the closest they get because they don’t want to take time out of their days to come sit through the tedious meetings, and I have to know what the roads are doing, so that I can make the council aware of the changes and shifts in the patterns of humans and what this may mean for us. I must know everything I can, so that I can help our clan.”
Robert lets out a frustrated breath, before he meets Arthur’s eye. “I understand.”
“I’m really not sure you do, Robert.” Arthur replies with a shake of his head. “Besides Counsel Browning was just telling me the other day about what a great example you are setting in the new training…”
Arthur’s train of thought is interrupted by the hush that comes over the meadow, and he holds up a hand to signal Robert to put his guard up as well. He can sense the shift in the air, not one of danger but he could sense another presence: not small, not elven, and approaching the valley.
Arthur can feel his sixth sense niggling at the back of his mind, and his eyes shift to where the road enters the valley from a gorge between the mountains. Arthur signals Robert to keep a vigilant watch there before he allows himself to use his watchers-sense.
He allows his sixth sense to take over completely and feels himself spread out over the meadow, then the valley and finally to the edge of the gorge where he can feel, and almost taste, the bitterness of the auras of men. He shifts through them, a group of soldiers it appears, and so Arthur finds the ones leading them. As he feels out the men, and touches their minds he finally comes to two that have more power than most others; they’re thinking in actions and plans instead of orders. One leaves an even more bitter taste than most men but no real evil or harm does he wish upon the elves or his current mission, while the other’s aura is one that calms Arthur, and is one of the most joyful felt from a full grown human male that Arthur has ever felt. It is the first aura of an adult human Arthur has ever wanted to revel in. Momentarily distracted Arthur by this aura, he quickly gets back to analysing the two men that seem to have the most power in the group, assessing what he can from touching their minds. Within them Arthur feels no sense of animosity, but curiosity, they are not on a conquest but on a mission of peace, they are on their way to see the elven clan to ask them a question.
Arthur snaps back into himself, and takes a moment to adjust, it never fails that when he uses this particular gift that he feels dizzy and disoriented after. Arthur pushes away the weakness caused by the use of his gift, and tells Robert of all he’s learned.
Now Arthur is immensely glad that Robert decided to come here and complain today, as now he will not have to go all the way back to the village before meeting the men. Arthur is one of the highly gifted, but not in the ability of farspeak like Robert.
“Robert, please inform the council of all that is happening and that they must gather together, it seems we will have visitors to the village. Now, let us go down and give them a proper greeting.”
Robert gives him a sceptical look, to which Arthur just raises an eyebrow as if to say ‘have you ever known me to be wrong in assessing a situation?’
Arthur hops down from the tree and recovers a moment as Robert applies himself to his task before following.
Arthur and Robert approach the men from the open road, both making sure that their hands are in sight. Elves are quite aware of the fickle nature of men, and their impulses that lead them to act before thinking.
Before they have gotten close enough to view the first man a voice carries over a nearby boulder, followed by the appearance of armed guard.
“Halt, who approaches?”
Arthur thought this rather ironic of the humans to treat them as trespassers.
“Welcome friends, I believe it is you who have come in search of the elves. Elves you have found.” Robert replied, with a friendly naïveté that Arthur found disconcerting.
Arthur may have informed Robert of the peaceful mission that the humans were embarking on but that didn’t mean he had to make it this easy on them.
The man who appeared to be the Captain of the guard stepped forth. “You will hand in your weapons here, before entering our camp.”
Arthur fought hard to keep from rolling his eyes at the audacity of men.
“Of course, friend.” Robert replied with a smile as he unhooked his dagger, he was the more diplomatic of the two.
Arthur pulls his bow from his back and his sword from his hip, remaining quiet for the time being as they both hand over their weapons. Arthur does keep one weapon upon his person, a small concealed dagger in his boot, better safe than sorry.
The Captain approaches them, with a slight bow of respect.
“I am Captain Barnabe, of King Saito’s guard; we are accompanying the Much Honoured Baron of Tromund, Lord Nash, and Sir Eames of the Rowan Knights and Commander of the King’s Calvary.”
Both Arthur and Robert returned the show of respect, and again Arthur let Robert speak for both of them.
“Well met, I am Robert il Fischer and this is Arthur il Cravat of the Aluinette Clan. We are glad to have new friends; the stars of Aluin have aligned on such a meeting as ours.”
The Captain waved them both forward and they followed him through the camp, Arthur figured their destination would be with the leaders of this envoy.
“I am quite surprised that you came across us so quickly, we had stopped here to break ourselves from our travels before we entered into Elven clan territory.” Captain Barnabe said, conversationally as they walked through the contingent.
“Ah, Captain, we were out doing patrol when we noticed your presence at the edge of the valley.” Robert replied, “With the amount of noise you were making we figured that you weren’t trying to sneak up on us.”
Arthur cringed at Robert’s attempt to disguise their motivation for approaching the humans, and decided to stop him before he continued on.
“Captain, I must ask, why have you stopped near the edge of elven territory?”
The Captain turned to Arthur, “Well sir, I am not at liberty to divulge the bit of information that even I am privy to but I do know that they wish to meet with the leaders of the clan and it is related to the whispers of war afoot.”
“War?” Robert questioned with vague interest apparent in his eyes. Unlike Arthur he had the same concerns for men as most elves, which was as long as they kept their wars out of Elven territory the Elves were happy to let them fight it out.
“Yes, war. But why we need the elves, no offense to either of you, I do not know.” The Captain said with a grimace, “We have not interacted with the elves in many generations.”
Arthur nodded in agreement, but shared the Captain’s sentiments for other reasons. It was odd that the humans were coming to the elves, what could they possibly want. Arthur was a master of information, but for once he was walking into a situation where he didn’t have it already.
Before any more information could be exchanged the Captain was pulling away the opening to a tent that had been set up for the comfort of the upper hierarchy. It was obvious to Arthur that even though they appeared relaxed and surprised by the intrusion, it was obviously an act and the news of their arrival had been relayed quickly.
The Captain ushered the two men to the centre of the room and introduced them. “May I present to you all, Robert il Fischer and Arthur il Cravat, of the Aluinette Clan.”
Each man gave a slight bow as is prescribed when they were announced, and the humans around them rose in greeting. Immediately the two men that Arthur had identified and touched their minds were distinguishable from the rest. It was obvious that these two were the leaders, but equally obvious to Arthur was the tension between them.
The two were of a height, but the first to step forward was the broader of the two.
“Greeting gentlemen, I am Sir Edward Eames, and it is my luck that the stars of Aluin have aligned on such a meeting as ours.”
The surprise at the Elven greeting must have shown on Arthur’s face, because when he met the Knight’s eye he received a wink. Arthur had to fight to keep himself from colouring, but from the way that Sir Eames’ smile widened he was unsuccessful. Arthur didn’t even know how to respond to the impropriety.
The other man, whom Arthur had already assumed to be Nash, then stepped forward. The obvious annoyance at Sir Eames apparent, Arthur assumed he did not like to be usurped in such a fashion; a notion that was further supported when he positioned himself half in front of the Knight to make himself seem the more important.
“I am the Much Honoured Baron of Tromund, and Counsel to his Royal Majesty, Lord Emmanuel Nash.” He announced with an overly ornate bow at the end, his toe pointed forward as the left hand sank to touch the ground and the right hand rose up as if he was attempting to spin a lady on the dance floor, as his nose came down to touch his knee.
Both Arthur and Robert stared, and were obviously flummoxed as to how to respond. Eames saved them both by, to the Baron’s annoyance, stepping in front of his still bowed head.
Introductions were made, and along with the Baron, who was a member of King Saito’s Privy Council, and the Commander there were a few other minor nobles, as well as some other knights. It was obvious through Arthur’s latent sixth sense that between the Baron Nash and the Knight Eames tension was high.
It was quickly decided that any and all discussions could wait until they reached the clan, as no decisions could be made until the humans met in front of the council.
The large group was quickly reassembled and as they headed to the capital Eames moved from away from his men and walked next to Arthur while leading his horse. Robert had early on fallen back into the ranks of humans to mingle, as was his responsibility, a natural spy.
Arthur could feel Eames as he moved closer to him, like his abilities had latched on to the man and had no intention of releasing him anytime soon. When Eames finally drew even with Arthur he offered a small smile to the elf, and nodded slightly as if to ask for permission for his assumptive manoeuvre.
“It is a pleasure to have you walk with me Sir Eames.” Arthur granted his permission along with his own nod.
“Just Eames, please. I’d tell you just Edward but can’t abide my Christian name.” The man in question responded.
“Eames, it is then.” Arthur responded, giving him a small smile, and colouring as he continued, “And you may call me Arthur.”
Eames responded with a wide grin, as if Arthur had just bestowed a gift upon him.
“I must ask, Eames, where did you learn proper Elven greeting? I know many humans do not cavort with Elves, and those who once knew proper etiquette have long since passed.”
Eames’ smile faded, and Arthur could sense the touch of sadness as see it as it marred his features.
“My mother taught me, it was the little of her I remember, as she left us when I was still very young.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Your mother was Elven?”
“Yes, half. Her family had been exiled during the initial years after the fall out between the humans and Elven Clans. Her father was a human man, a tradesman in the middle class of fairly decent standing. He had done well and even better after marrying her mother who brought with her knowledge and artesian skills that would eventually gain them more trade, and allow them to afford a large dowry for their only daughter. Her mother still lives maintaining the trade ships of her husband, even as she mourns even now for her husband and her daughter, but at least she still has her scoundrel of a grandson.” Eames grinned as he finished, even if it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Arthur was no sure how to act, his usual emotionless facade wanted to crack with the knowledge but he held it together.
“You must bring her all kinds of trouble.” Arthur said, keeping the topic light, “I must ask how it is for a half-breed? You know, you are the first I’ve met.”
“Actually I really don’t know I was never treated as one. After my mother was gone it was as if everyone forgot that I was one. Each year I’d go see my grandmother at least once, and she’d make sure I hadn’t forgotten, though she still considers me a failure at the language. But between lessons, my running off to be a squire at first chance, and then the years that have followed I’ve never had a chance to find out what being an Elf really means.”
Arthur could sense a bit of regret in his words, and it was unsurprising as most Elves are naturally drawn to their own history.
“Well, maybe you could find out a bit while you are here.” Arthur replied, unable to stop the small welcoming smile that turned up his typically stoic features.
Arthur was beginning to wonder if this quarter Elf had some latent ability, as he seemed to affect Arthur in ways he had never been before. This need to soothe the lines on his face, to smile at him, to want to make him smile, and to just hold him was overwhelming. He didn’t quite understand where these feeling were coming from.
Arthur realised after a moment that Eames was speaking to him, and belatedly tuned back in trying to catch up to the conversation.
“...learning about the clans. I am particularly interested in meeting the Prince; I heard it will only be a short time until he will finally be made king.”
Arthur bit back his blush of embarrassment; it seems his cheeks would not stop heating in the midst of this man.
“You are correct. The king has been gone for over three years, and the mourning period has now ceased. The coronation will happen at the beginning of the fourth year, an auspicious year. We are in no hurry, if something were to happen and the fourth year seemed cursed we’d wait until the eighth year; as you know for us, and yourself, time moves slower. I’ve heard that Elven blood, even in the smallest amounts will still allow for the eternal like youth.”
Eames laughed at that.
“Well I’ll report back to you if I feel like I’m at my death bed at eighty.”
They fell into a short quiet for a moment as Arthur turned over the idea of Eames dying in his head; he could feel his stomach drop and what felt like a vice like grip on his heart at the very idea. Even as he was about to talk, a throat was cleared and Arthur noticed that in his distraction more of Eames’ humans had come to surround them. They seemed to be filled with question, and Eames had opened the dam that was holding them back.
By the time the humans had made it to the city, rooms were prepped, and a feast for the evening was prepared, Arthur was exhausted. He closed his eyes to rest for a moment but all he saw was Eames:
Eames with his head thrown back in laughter.
Eames talking with his men.
Eames giving small knowing smirks to Arthur, that Arthur had to fight to return.
Eames’ eyes filled with sadness at his loss.
Eames trying to hide the regret that laced his voice.
Arthur when he finally fell asleep only saw Eames in his dreams, and could feel his abilities, even in his sleep, reaching out for this man as if there could be only him.
It wasn’t long until Arthur felt himself being pulled out of sleep by the sounds of his valet.
“Sire, you must ready for the feast.” The young Elven man said as he moved about the room preparing the clothes for Arthur.
“Has everyone in the contingent been placed into rooms?”
“Yes, your highness. The Baron and the Viscount, as well as some other high ranking members, are here in the royal quarters, and the soldiers opted for the barracks.”
“The Viscount?” Arthur replied, trying to remember such a title and failing. It did not do that he had missed such an important member of the party.
“Sire, the Viscount Eames.”
“He’s a Viscount?”
Arthur was confused, he now understood why he seemed to be the highest ranking member of the group, even with the Baron present, but didn’t understand why he had no introduced himself as such.
“I’m sorry, sire. I heard members of their staff talking; apparently Sir Eames makes it a habit of going by his lesser title. He is heir to the Duke of _________, and apparently finds every chance he can to avoid his duties to the dukedom. They own the human properties that thrive to Elven eastern borders.”
Well that explained a lot about Eames’ ancestry, as those were the clans who were most adamant about removing human filth from their presences after the fall out. The tradesman must have been from their lands, and he must have had some luck if he managed to marry his daughter off to a Duke.
Arthur did not continue to question the boy, and he was soon set upon his task of dressing Arthur.
While preparing for the feast, Arthur was distracted by the fact that neither he nor Eames had given their true titles. Arthur might even be able to make it through this evening without him finding out, but when they met in front of the council tomorrow to begin deliberations there would be no avoiding the truth.
Arthur found Eames before the beginning of the feast, and carousing with the soldiers at the back of the room rather than at the front with the rest of the noblemen.
“Hello, Viscount, I do believe that you are needed at the front of the room to be seated at the high table.”
Eames looked up at Arthur with a twinkle in his eye.
“Well I believe my secret has been found out.”
“Indeed it has, I am a man with many sources you’d never be able to sneak something by me for very long.”
“Well, sir, I tried.” The sly smile that graced Eames’ lips as he said this made Arthur believe that he really would.
Eames crowded into Arthur’s space, and looped his arm.
“Will you escort me to the high table?” Eames asked with a firm grip on Arthur’s forearm, letting him know that there was only one answer.
Arthur, stunned by this forwardness, was shocked into just nodding. Forgetting for the moment the amount of impropriety such an action held. Before Arthur could remember though and remove himself from such a situation, Eames was pulling him along, as if he was the escort.
When Arthur met the eyes of some of the other elves they gave him inquisitive looks or just raised their eyebrows in surprise. Eames seemed to notice this.
“Is it not normal for one to escort another in the elven kingdom?” Eames asked with sincerity, but before Arthur could answer another, older, more nasally voice chimed in.
“No it is quite usual for one to be escorted; however it is highly improbable that such escorting would be done by the crowned prince of the realm.”
Eames’ eyes travelled up and down the older man, before turning back to Arthur.
Arthur looked appropriately shamed in response.
“Viscount Eames, this is Counsel Fischer, you met his son Robert earlier.” Arthur introduced the two men, trying to take the spotlight off himself. Arthur realised this was not the case when he tried to sneak his arm out from under Eames’ and found his escape cut off by a vice like grip on his wrist.
“It is my luck that the stars of Aluin have aligned on such a meeting as ours.” Eames said immediately after the greeting, showing off his knowledge of elf culture.
“May they continue to shine on all we do with our time.” Counsel Fischer responded in proper elven fashion, before immediately getting down to business. “I have heard that we have much to hear about your war.”
Eames hummed making a non-committal noise, as Arthur immediately cut in.
“Counsel Fischer, I believe that you of all people know that even if we do discuss the nature of the visit we never question nor judge on the night of a welcoming feast.”
Counsel Fischer’s eyebrow rose.
“I see, sire, are we following true tradition and the ones who seek council will have to wait for the next full moon as well?”
Eames blanched, imagining how long this would take if they were required to wait an entire month before they could even talk to the council.
“Fischer,” Arthur purposefully dropped the title, “I believe we can call war an emergency situation can we not, they know the procedure and even in an emergency a proper response will take one week’s time, but from what I feel there will be no doubts that it will be possible to do something to help the humans.”
Eames did not overlook the emphasis on feel, he was willing to wait to see what became of that, but he did loosen his grip on Arthur to provide a reassuring squeeze. More reassuring to himself than anyone else, he believed.
“Yes, Counsel, we wish to meet with you in hopes that we can receive any aid at all but we will not force the elves into a fight that is not their own.”
“See Counsel Fischer, I do believe you could be entertaining Lord Nash, he looks lonely over there where none of the others are approaching him.”
“Yes, sire.” And with that Counsel Fischer went off to ingratiate himself with the other human in hopes that he could discover more.
“Sire” Eames repeated, the tone laced with sarcasm.
“Yes, Sire. It’s my title, the one I was born with. This is why some people found this inappropriate.” Arthur replied with a pointed look to their hands which were still linked.
“So that would make you my Prince, too, yes?”
Arthur gave him a look before answering carefully, “Yes, it would, technically, though you already have your king.”
“And where is yours?”
“My father died three years ago.” Arthur stated, with just a hint of sadness in his eyes, it was obvious to Eames that he was used to hiding such emotions.
“And you aren’t crowned?” Eames questioned, wondering now why Arthur was still just a prince.
“There is a seven year period of mourning.”
“Seven years?!?”
“Yes, seven years is nothing to celebrate the life of a man who lived for over 800 and ruled for 400.”
“I forget how long lived elves are.” Eames looked slightly shocked by this information.
“And you have that same longevity.”
“My grandmother has told me the same, she is already so old, and I don’t even know her true age. She has told me that my mother was so young when she had me it was almost unprecedented for an elf so young to have a child.”
“Sounds like me, when I take the thrown I’ll be almost 200 years younger than any other elf to wear the crown. I only had one older brother who died in an accident years before I was born, and I was a late addition to my family. But my father was not expected to leave us so soon either.”
“What happened?” Eames saw the hurt look pass quickly over Arthur’s features before he amended, “you don’t have to tell me.”
“Oh, well, it was a hunting accident, that’s all I know. I wasn’t with them when it happened. I actually know very little of the details.”
“My condolences.”
“It’s okay.”
Eames patted Arthur’s hand to reassure him, and was about to change the subject when Robert approached.
“Your highness, Lord Eames, it’s time to begin the feast.”
At that Eames looked around and noticed that they were the only ones that hadn’t found their way to a seating area. A tug on Eames’ arm brought him back to Arthur, who was giving him a wily look.
“Mr. Eames, I will need my arm to eat, and I do believe that this is where you are sitting at the high table.” Arthur said, punctuating the statement with another tug.
“Dream a little big, darling there is plenty you can do with only one hand.” And with a sly wink Eames disengaged himself from the prince and walked over to his seat.
Arthur tried to fight down his blush as he walked to his seat, Eames’ eyes drilling into his back and his very red neck the whole time.
After the feast, bonfires for dancing and tales were set up around the city square. The elves were old and powerful and not much for mass procreating so their numbers were easily fit into the ballroom and even more easily fit into the square for recreation.
Eames found Arthur soon after he arrived at the festivities.
“So, are the events for a welcoming feast always so exuberant?” Eames asked, honestly curious about everything the elves did.
“Yes, we try to make anyone who comes, for peaceful reasons, as comfortable as possible whether or not we agree with them, or are going to help them.”
“Is that a hint?”
“No hint, honestly we really don’t try to make any judgements until you stand before the council and declare your intentions. It is the fair process that we believe in, and I would stop you before you tried to make a case for your argument before that time.”
“But I could tell you why I was here?”
“Yes, and that is acceptable. Other council members may allow you to try to sway them one way or another but you’d just have to repeat yourself at council and then every member of the council will sit and think about what was said before we meet again just to dissect the arguments. Then after a period of time we will meet again to make a decision or call you back to answer questions. This can be repeated as many times as we must to make a decision.”
“It sounds time consuming.”
“It is, but again we are elves, as you are one too, and you will learn that when one has a lot of time one does not rush into decisions. We look far into the future, as we have a long-term investment in our own livelihoods.”
“Unlike humans?” Eames questioned, sceptically.
“I wouldn’t say that it is unlike humans but humans think on a much shorter timescale, like earlier when you scoffed at a seven year mourning. But you are very young for an elf, and haven’t lived with us, so for you even your years seem long. As you see the humans age so rapidly that it is almost impossible for them to think in terms longer than hundreds. They also reproduce much faster and more readily. We, elves, must think in thousands but also factor in that we are not of the habit of mass procreation.” Arthur took a breath, “That was a lot to say, I’m not one for long speeches, or for these festivities. Let me show you something of your heritage, okay?”
Eames just smiled at Arthur in response allowing him to change the subject, “Okay”
Arthur, now just part of the crowd, was able to secure Eames’ hand in his own, ignoring the shock of surprise that jolted through him, as he led him out of the festivities and to a gate to the side of the royal quarters.
Arthur watched Eames’ face light up at the world around him as they entered the garden.
“So this is our most precious garden, it is open to all the elves though we do reduce the amount of people who can come in at one time.”
Eames hummed in agreement, though Arthur could see he wasn’t paying attention as he followed the small ball of light in front of him with his eyes.
“That’s a sprite.” Arthur said with a smile at Eames’ actions.
“A sprite? Like the mischievous creatures that your parents tell you will come punish you if you are bad?” Eames said with a laugh, a sound that Arthur was coming to love the more he heard it.
“One in the same, they live all over the forests in both the human realm and the elves, but they love to congregate here.”
“With such wonderful scenery I couldn’t imagine why not.” Eames said, not taking his eyes from Arthur’s.
Arthur yet again could not fight the blush that spread across his cheeks.
Arthur led Eames farther into the garden, taking Eames to his own personal sanctuary. A place many of the other elves probably frequented but that made Arthur feel the safest, which he told Eames before he could even stop himself.
“Thank you.” Eames said as he finished telling him more about the garden and the elves.
“I don’t want you leaving here empty handed, or headed.” Arthur said with a sly grin.
“Well I’ve already received more gifts that I imagined already on this trip, and I have faith that I can convince the elves to help.”
“Good luck and truth be told I’ll be cheering you on.”
“Aren’t you a member of council?” Eames said with a grin.
“Yes.”
“Shouldn’t you be neutral then?”
“What can I say; you’ve won me over with your charms.” Arthur said with a small smile, “But really, you are technically one of my subjects, as are many of the elves and halflings that are part of the human kingdom. I must strive to protect you all, even the humans I feel need to be protected as they are part of our inheritance as the oldest protectors of this land.”
“You consider me one of your own?” Eames smirked, seemingly ignoring the rest of what Arthur said.
Again Arthur couldn’t stop the blush that invaded his cheeks, in one day Eames had made him blush more than the last 100 some odd years of his existence.
“Then in that case can I swear my fidelity to you?” Eames asked as he dropped to his knees taking Arthurs hand in his own.
“Haven’t you already done that for your king?”
“I have, but I haven’t done it to my prince, yet.”
Arthur couldn’t turn redder at this point, but deep inside of himself he could feel how right this was. In this place, this man, this oath.
“Then swear to me.”
And as Eames spoke the words to swear his oath to Arthur, the Prince could feel the bond between the two of them form as if it was a tangible thing that could be touched and tugged as needed.
When Arthur accepted his oath and Eames stood it seemed almost right when the Viscount leaned forward and placed his lips at the corner of Arthur’s mouth.
“My prince.”
“Highly inappropriate, Lord Eames, but you are now mine, I suppose.” Arthur said with a grin.
“Yours to punish.” Eames replied with a mischievous smirk.
“Mine.” Arthur said again as if weighing the word in his mouth, and feeling how much it lifted him up. It was almost as if he could sense that even though the full implication of that word was not realised at that moment it soon would.
“Yours.” Eames seemed to respond just as reverently, as he simply leaned over and took Arthur’s hand as he led him back out of the garden.
Arthur allowed himself to be pulled along and realising that this was just the beginning.
