IP: 86.3.232.251
Posted on January 1, 2012 at 07:25:39 PM by arthur & pendragon
The light which came in through the window drenched the room in a warm glow, and the King shifted his position in his chair as he dipped the nib of his quill into the inkpot before him. As his pen scratched across the surface of the parchment, fluidly marking out his thoughts in his looping script, Arthur smiled to himself. Coming from the floor above he could hear the running footsteps of his sons, followed by, if he was not mistaken, the enthusiastic bounding of large paws giving chase after the young Prince. They were awake. He would not get much more work done now. Arthur stretched and yawned before he set down his pen, reaching for the small silver chest which stood before him on the table. He flicked open the lid and took a small amount of the sand it contained and dusted it over the document he had been working on, in order to soak up any excess ink. A knock came at the door as Arthur was rolling up the length of parchment, “Enter,” he called as he set it down upon the table, his grey eyes flicking up to rest upon the guard who entered. “Sir,” the liveried man said, “there is a stranger in the yard below.” Arthur frowned. “Anyone in Shaman is free to approach this castle at any time, stranger or no,” the King said, not unkindly, but with confusion in his voice. “I know, Sir,” the guard agreed with a nod of his head, “but she seems to be a little confused.” “Indeed?” Arthur countered with ghost of a smile, “how so, my friend?” “Well,” the guard promptly replied, “she...er...head butted the outer wall.” Arthur’s eyebrows rose upwards towards his hairline, certainly not normal behaviour, but not inexplicable. He knew he was not the only one to have stuck inanimate objects or walls in frustration. “Thank you,” he told the guard at last, “I will deal with it.” Booted feet carried the King down the spiral staircase of the west tower, the keys, which hung beside his dagger on the right side of his belt clinking together as he went, whilst his sword hung silently on his left. He was clad in a tunic of royal blue, worn over a long-sleeved undershirt of grey, embroidered in silver thread with the twisting forms of dragons. The sigil of the House to which he had belonged when he had been alive on earth. His trousers too were grey and closely fitted, made for riding and ease of movement, whilst his black boots came to a stop a little way below his knee. A thin circlet of silver was worn around his head, the colour standing out more boldly against the light brown of his hair than gold would have done. Arthur had always preferred silver. The King pushed open the wooden, iron studded door with his left hand and stepped out onto the raised terrace beyond. He then continued along another path, down a second flight of steps, until he came to a door which would lead him through the outer wall. He followed the directions the guard had given him, and very soon his eyes fell upon the girl who was standing staring up at the interlocking stones with an unusual expression upon her tattooed face. “People usually use the front door,” Arthur smiled good-naturedly, “I can take you there if you like.” just take a look, through my eyes image by One lucky guy at flickr.com |
Replies:
- and every wave drags me to sea; - By e t a i n January 2, 2012 at 01:14:21 AM
- would you kill to save a life? - By arthur & pendragon January 3, 2012 at 10:03:37 PM
- and every wave drags me to sea; - By e t a i n January 19, 2012 at 02:33:41 AM
- would you kill to save a life? - By arthur & pendragon January 3, 2012 at 10:03:37 PM
Post a reply:
<--
-->