He looked about the room, out the windows, at the floor; anywhere but Tristan’s gaze. Out of the corner of his eye he could see him with a stunned look on his face. His voice was full of disbelief, like he didn’t want to believe his friend had done this. For the first time, Alistair felt a little bit bad. Tristan tried to assure the guards he wouldn’t do such a thing, but when he looked to the older boy to confirm, Alistair just shook his head. Now he looked up, a half hearted smile on his face and met the younger boy’s eyes. ”Tristan, stop. They’re right.” He turned away again, but not before he said one final thing to the prince. ”I’m sorry.” He rolled his eyes as the Captain began to defend himself, but when he said Tristan should be more careful when choosing his friends, he stiffened and glared at the man. ”I’m a thief, not a bloody murderer!” He snapped at him. ”Oh really? Because you could have killed me.”The Captain turned around. Alistair just gave him a look of disgust. He had kicked him, not come at him with a knife, which he very well could’ve done. ”And am I to assume you don’t carry weapons?” He raised a brow. ”Would you permit a search of that coat?” Alistair sighed, but nodded. Now he was in for it. One of the guards raised an arm. ”Found it, Captain.” The man took the blade from the guard and held it up for the King to see. ”As I said. He could be dangerous.” The young man snorted. Dangerous. Yeah, that would be the day. Capable, maybe. But dangerous..... he had limited use of one arm for God’s sake! The Captain went on to list the other crimes Alistair was guilty of. ”On top of that, Sire, he resisted arrest and attacked me. He could have killed me.” This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Alistair was not going to listen to this guy paint him in such a bad light. They couldn’t do much worse to him at the moment.
”But I didn’t! I could have, but I chose not to. Like I said, thief, not killer.” The guard looked irritated with the outburst, but he decided not to say anything. Some people were impossible to reason with. Alistair, who had been taking this whole thing rather well in his opinion, was royally pissed off with the whole situation, but he managed to look at the King without looked to crazed. Finally. Someone who cared what he had to say. ”I won’t deny that I was stealing. I never did. Resisted arrest, absolutely. Any sane person would do the same. I kicked the Captain in the stomach, but did nothing other than run after that. And Sire, if I may, you should find some better guards. Took them longer to catch me than you would want them to even with all of them. Only caught me because your Captain tripped me.” The guards shifted in their places, folding their arms and shooting daggers at him. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Maybe it wasn’t the most brilliant idea, but he had to admit that making the guards seem incapable of catching a teenager with a wounded shoulder was fun. Besides, it was actually advice. Say what you want about the kid, he was honest. Oh, they’d hate him forever, but he wasn’t trying to make friends. He was reminded of the boy he’d met when he first came here. Thoth. The two had taken a quick dislike to one another and Thoth would probably be happy to see him caught. Least he wasn’t here. Tristan was bad enough; he’d never look the same at Alistair again. Either his father would not allow the boys to be friends, or he wouldn’t want to be friends with a thief. Alistair refused to call himself a criminal. It wasn’t his fault that he felt the need to do this.
Smart. Pissing off the people with weapons that are trained to use them. The boy looked up suddenly, eyes darting around the room. Once he got his hands on the bird he would throttle him. The magpie was seated on a window sill, like he had been earlier. What happened to keep watch? He asked, displeased with his familiar who chose not to answer. Nice of you to show up. He said sarcastically, telling Anor exactly how he felt to see him. Quit your whining. I’m here to help you. His fairy gave him a withering look. He clearly didn’t want the magpie there, but Anor really was going to help. Alistair just shook his head. He wanted to get himself out of here. He looked back at the King and Prince who were still waiting for why he did it. That was a difficult one to answer. He hadn’t told anybody why he stole. Not ever. In the Glade he didn’t have to; there had been nothing to steal. Or at least nothing he had the urge to take. Here... it was different. It was too tempting and while he had managed to control his impulses before, sometimes he couldn’t. He could always just say it was fun. Which it was. But something told him that was a really bad idea. Because he liked it? Well, that was part of it. He didn’t realize how much he enjoyed it until he actually was in the middle of stealing. You could always tell them the truth. Anor had flown closer to his fairy and was now perched on the King’s throne, just above his head. Are you crazy? I haven’t told anyone that and I am not going to tell a room full of people. The magpie could feel his outrage that he would even suggest such a thing. Well, I’d hardly call if full of people. He could tell Alistair was not happy with him and this was not helping get him back in good graces. Still, he knew that the fairy was thinking about it. Only then did Alistair notice who quiet it was and how long it had been silent. ”Well now why is a lot more difficult to answer.” It was easy to tell that he was nervous, something that was unusual with him. The boy was too proud to admit anything was wrong with him and he hated sharing when there was. The magpie looked straight at his fairy. Trust me. Please. Just... trust me.
”Oh, shuck it. It won’t matter either way.” Someone was bound to find out sooner or later. Anor could not help but be proud of Alistair. Talking about himself had always been the a difficult thing for him. The teen looked from the King to the Prince. He still felt horrible that Tristan had to find out this way, but at least he didn’t have to keep it a secret. His two toned eyes landed on the King and he met the piercing gray stare of Arthur and held it. He refused to be afraid of this. ”I have a condition known as kleptomania. It’s basically impulsive stealing. I don’t necessarily start with the idea to take things; it just sort of happens to me. For me it’s especially bad with shiny items. Metals, gems, things like that.” He gulped, voice shaking slightly. For all of his bravado, he was terrified. Of consequence, of doing this, and of how he would be seen by the two in front of him. ”I didn’t come with the plan to take anything. But I can’t control all of my impulses. This time, I couldn’t resist it and I’m sorry.” Not entirely true, but not untrue wither. He was sorry, but not for stealing. ”You want to punish me, fine. Do what you will. But it isn’t my fault.” He did the best he could to manage it. But he didn’t always succeed. He took his gaze away from Arthur’s having finished what he had to say. He hadn’t just done it to show he wasn’t afraid. He had done it to show the King that he had no lie in his eyes, whether he believed him or not. If he had looked, he would see that there had been no deceit.
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