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Posted on October 22, 2013 at 03:57:36 AM by a r t h u r
 Arthur ran his fingers through his hair, sighing again as his eyes scoured the hall. He could see Tristan over in one of the far corners of the room, surrounded by people his own age and laughing loudly. That boded well, at least. What did not was the group of older courtiers who had turned a little within their circle in order to look straight at their king. He knew the facial expressions, any moment they were going to start walking over in order to drag him into some fresh debate. Arthur didn’t think he had ever attended a party where he had just been able to enjoy the atmosphere...it was just a different setting for the same old game. A servant walked past, he was taller than Arthur, and wider. This meant that he made the perfect disguise. The King walked in line with him towards the door on the western wall of the hall, until he was out of site of his nobles. The man disappeared through the door, and Arthur stuck his foot out, holding it open with the toe of his boot. He descended the steps, allowing the door to swing closed gently behind him as his feet beat a steady rhythm against the stone steps. The kitchen kept the corridor warm. Poets of all the ages had not been wrong when they had described the kitchen as the heart of any home. It made buildings alive, kept them warm and functioning. It was also said, that it was the place to go for gossip. He wondered vaguely for a moment, as he hovered beside the door to the main preparation area what the servants said of him and his family...more specifically, of his son. Tristan was much on his mind of late...and not just because it was the boy’s birthday. If only he had been any other thirteen year old... The King coughed, rapping his knuckles against the door and peering into the room. One of the kitchen maids squeaked and almost jumped out of her skin, whilst the other servants stopped what they were doing, and bowed respectfully. Arthur smiled, “Don’t mind me, please continue,” he instructed them, and was gratified when they did. Despite the renewed bustle, Arthur found the housekeeper easily enough and gave her one of the keys from his belt. “Your Grace?” she asked, curiously, taking the great iron thing from him and weighing it in her hand. “I would be eternally grateful, Dora, if you would get me a large goblet of some of the best red. It’s been a long day, and I’m getting desperate.” Winking at her, he turned to leave, “please just send one of the girls up with it and...don’t tell anyone, or they’d all be wanting it.” Dora laughed and bobbed one of her amusing little bows, “Yes, your Grace.” The transition from the noise of the kitchens to the sound of the party was very slight indeed.. Arthur planted himself in a corner not too far from the servant’s door and leaned back against the wall. The chill of the stone seeped through his tunic, and it was a mercy in a room warmed to boiling point by the buzz of warm dancing bodies. His foot began to tap steadily to the music, and, for the briefest of moments, he found himself able to relax. His mind free to wander, it returned once again to brood upon his latest, and most pressing, problem. Kingship, he knew, had a lot to do with image...Arthur gave a start. The nobles had found him. He felt as if he were donning his helmet whilst awaiting a sword blow to land, bracing for the inevitable impact. Could he not have a moment’s peace? Even at his own son’s birthday party? It was a shame there were so many laughing, dancing couples between him and his chapel. It did not require prayer, for him to find peace in there. It was the girl who saved him. She appeared through the door whilst the courtiers were still wading through the tangle of bodies. He beamed at her in delight, receiving the goblet from her elegant fingers, before turning and hiding it behind one of the nearby hanging tapestries. “Thank you,” he said to her gratefully, taking her hand in his, “please, do me a great favour and save me one more time...” Arthur’s grip tightened a little as he encouraged the young woman out into the crowd, “dance with me,” he urged her, “and you will find me the most grateful king in all the world.”  |
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