bitchprince (
bitchprince) wrote in
fandomhighdorms2009-06-22 12:25 pm
Entry tags:
The Salle, Monday Morning
Not that Arthur would admit it, but yesterday had helped to calm him down from the state of introverted confusion he'd been in since Thursday. He was no longer showing signs of such, or at least nothing that was as easily, visibly sedate.
He was, however, very focused on his own swordwork that morning. He'd asked Merlin tostand guard come with him into the salle, but now that what bothered him worst had gotten out, he was free to focus on his movements to ward off the rest of it. Slowly, carefully, and with full concentration, he lapsed into familiar patterns that were as easy as breathing by now.
[[ open salle, but I'll be SP in bursts until the evening ]]
He was, however, very focused on his own swordwork that morning. He'd asked Merlin to
[[ open salle, but I'll be SP in bursts until the evening ]]

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"I think... If someone were to step in, using magic to handle a monster that would have killed everyone otherwise and knowing what their sentence would be..." He hesitated a moment, not certain if he should really say it, considering the law. But then, maybe it was just something that had to be said anyhow. "They saw other lives as more important than their own. A person like that would be something of a hero, even if nobody else ever agreed."
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Or Merlin.
Arthur's mouth curled into a distant smile, and then he turned, pacing towards the racks to put his training sword aside. "There are things I wish I could do," he admitted; it'd been too long since he'd gotten to talk to anyone about honour and heroism, the way the knights knew it.
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Which was Zack's roundabout way of suggesting that, instead of wishing something could be done, maybe it was more important to start looking for avenues to do it.
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Zack couldn't ask Arthur to just take propriety and toss it from a window. Even if right and wrong seemed to be written in black and white in this situation, it was so much more muddled than that. It was Arthur's dad who was doing all of this.
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You idiot implied.
It was Arthurese for 'yes, I have, and it scares the hell out of me but I'm not telling you that.'
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"Well, then don't die," Zack replied, letting the implied you idiot slide easily enough to the side. "If there's anything I can do, for you or for Camelot, let me know."
It was all said so soberly, compared to Zack's usual chirp. This was heavy stuff, after all.
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"You're a good man," he said, "What your mentor said, about keeping your honour -- don't let anyone take it from you."
The practice sword fell back into place where it belonged.
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A king without honor would be...
Well. Terrifying.
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Which was something he spent his entire life trying to earn.
He glanced away from the sword, over his shoulder, at Zack. "No dishonour nor cowardice nor disloyalty, nor disservice."
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"Protect your honour," he agreed, smiling faintly. "If you do that, sooner or later you'll get to fix the price of freedom."
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Zack had so totally kept that beach umbrella to practise with, yes.
"It's almost time for my next class, so I ought to change and shower and all that before showing up in Lady Ghanima's classroom looking like I just got my butt kicked by a toddler with fingerpaints. See you later?"
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