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I'm imaging the words you said
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Posted on October 7, 2012 at 05:32:37 PM by arthur & pendragon



Arthur sat behind his desk in his private study, his elbows rested upon the table top, whilst his fingers massaged his temples. “Couldn’t you just have given him back the keys?” he asked his son a little wearily, raising his eyes in order to fix the boy with a searching look. Tristan shuffled his feet a little, “I suppose I could have done that,” he agreed, with a little nod, his green eyes taking on an almost-shifty quality before he looked down at the floor, “but I thought that way, he’d get cross.” The King sighed and sat back in his chair, folding his arms loosely across his chest, “as opposed to now, where he is a picture of calm forgiveness, you mean?” Arthur fought to keep his face straight as he saw the corner of Tristan’s mouth twitch in amusement, “well, when you put it like that...” Arthur sighed, “if you go and apologise, then go and find something to do to keep you out of his way for the rest of the day, then we’ll say no more about it, agreed?” Tristan bit his lip, lifting his gaze again to finally meet his father’s gaze, “agreed,” he muttered.

Glancing down at the small time piece that stood on his desk, Arthur heard the door clunk closed at his son’s back, as Tristan disappeared off to fulfil the agreement. They were cutting it close. In truth, Arthur’s morning plans had been diverted when he had been called to deal with the problem of the missing keys by a particularly irate captain of the guard, and had therefore not had the time to complete everything he had planned to do before his meeting with Tsi. The knock on the door came not long after Tristan’s departure and as the deity admitted himself to the room, Arthur offered him a small smile of greeting. He remembered when he had first met Tsi, when he had gone in search of his ren, and the almost immediate likability of the man. It was a shame, Arthur reflected, the thoughts making no mark of change upon his face, that matters were now not so simple. There was a game to be played, and, for the good of his people, Arthur was more than prepared to mark out the moves.

“Good Afternoon,” the king smiled, gesturing Tsi towards the chair that stood on the opposite side of the desk, “can I offer you a drink?” Arthur’s eyes flicked in the direction of the drink’s cabinet upon which stood a selection of wines and a number of fine goblets. “I have heard little of anything from the Pantheon,” he explained, settling himself back in his chair, his fingers curling around the carved arms, “the Marsh was an unexpected addition however.” The final words were carefully spoken, they were not accusatory, but there was a questioning note there, half-requesting an explanation, whilst recognising that one was unlikely to be forthcoming. Arthur reached forwards and lifted his own goblet towards his mouth as Tsi’s pendant began to glow, his expression neutral and unreadable as he waited patiently for matters to proceed. He knew that the deity was busy, how could he not be, Arthur did not envy his task of keeping two originals in line.

“Ah,” the king smiled, finally, returning the goblet to its previous location, “Mallos is an enigma to us all, is he not?” Again Arthur’s face and voice did not betray him, his grey eyes successfully retaining their usual detachment, his voice its usual sincerity. “However, I do not think the antics of my father-in-law are the reason you requested this appointment.” Another smile, a friendly and encouraging one found its way onto the king’s face, “what is it I can help you with?”







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