fandomhighdorms | Behind the Dorms, Tuesday Afternoon

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Behind the Dorms, Tuesday Afternoon

So they couldn't have a reserve leader meeting this week, because Leto was a tree. Arthur being Arthur, he was fairly convinced Leto was just doing it to spite everyone (especially him), but that was hardly the reason he was behind the dorms this morning.

"Today, we're going to be working on fortifying the dorms," Arthur announced, "As well as setting up for their defense. If a fighting force somehow breaks through the gates, it will be of great importance to ensure that the dorms are kept safe and well-defended." He... took a moment to ~~handwavily in order not to break the mun's brain~~ elaborate on his own time's strategies for ~~standing in a square with spears hoping something will fall on them~~ defense of such buildings. It involved barricades. And fires. And, okay, standing in a square with spears hoping something would fall on it, but he said it... a little classier than that.

"I would like you all to take a march around the building," because physical exercise was also always good, "And find the weak spots. Windows, damaged walls, and the like. There are a number of defensive positions we can take in order to safeguard the gates. I've listed a number of them, but go take a look and bring us your own ideas."

He nodded at the crowd, then paused. "If anyone is searching for Lord Leto," he said, "He's currently topiary, but with any luck, he'll grace us with his presence again next week."

Seriously. Couldn't Leto turn into a tree when it was actually useful, like in a quiet week where Arthur could have the room to himself?

[[ ~~wait for the~~ ocd up! ]]

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It was her turn to roll her eyes at him.

"Which is one of your problems right there," she pointed out with a snort.

"'A' battle plan. Your plan deals with one sort of enemy when even my experience has shown that this place does it's very best to be surprising when it comes to the number of creatures, the type of creatures, and where they might appear. Barricades? Fires?"

Oh, there was a note to 'fires' that spoke of unpleasant personal experience.

"Both can become more deadly to the defender than to the enemy if you're not careful. Especially fire."

His eyes flitted to hers. "You can take that up with the survivors of the zombie invasion," he said, idly. "Or with my men back home. You are here to apply your particular experiences in such a way that we'll have any number of ways to improvise at our disposal."

"Just because you survived doesn't mean you're right," she told him firmly, "it just means that your fighters made up for your inadequacies. If you'd like me to work up a better defense plan, hopefully after having consulted with the other reserve forces, I will happily do so. But you should still update yourself on modern military tactics so that we don't have someone at the helm using strategies best left at Gallipoli."

"Thank you for that stunning analysis of a battle you didn't suffer through," Arthur returned. Given an option of getting angry with her, or wrangling daddy-driven issues down to the floor to the point where it seemed like he didn't care much, the latter would win out. "I doubt you've got any books that I don't own myself," and there was the truth, then, "So that's one area in which your help won't be needed."

Edited 2009-07-14 16:30 (UTC)

"I doubt you've read them as many times, or been made to do as many analysis reports, as I have," she answered back, her own mother-related issues at the wheel.

"My room at home held approximately three thousand volumes along the walls. Roughly a third were historical or military in nature, not even counting what was kept in the rest of our apartments.

"And my mother has been collecting for a long time. So you are welcome to refuse my help in that area, but you're doing yourself a disservice."

She'd bow to him in matters of the group, when it came to sword-fighting... when it came to a lot of things, really. But something like this, one of the few things in this place that she was good at, could actually be some kind of authority; she wouldn't bow on this point, not without very good reason. It was even important enough that she kept her temper in check.

Merlin took up a position just behind Arthur's left, watching her carefully. "I can attest to Arthur's skills as a leader in battle. I don't think you can learn that from a book."

Yes, thank you for that, Merlin.

Arthur shot him a slight sideways glance. "I'm learning what's necessary from where it's necessary," he said, simply. Back to Fiona, "I'll have to refuse," he said, "But remind me to set you up with Geoffrey of Monmouth if I ever return home."

They could bore the bollocks off each other. It'd be fun.

Edited 2009-07-14 17:38 (UTC)

She gave Arthur a very flat look.

"You're an idiot."

Then at Merlin.

"And if you really cared about taking care of his safety, you'd encourage him to branch out when it came to his tactics. Skills can always get better. What he mentioned earlier of 'tactics' is infantile and potentially deadly to him and to others."

She pulled back, keeping her head high.

"Learning is always necessary. Period. End of sentence. It's the only way to survive and that is something I have experience with."

She growled, just the once, and spun on her heel to leave. Stupid idiot boys and their stupid idiot ways and their stupid idiot manservants who let them be big stupid idiots.

Merlin shot Arthur a sideways look at that.

"A bit of a nut, isn't she?"

"Bloody annoying is more like it," Arthur muttered, shooting her back a foul look.

And, well, trying to ignore that funny little voice in the back of his head that had been jammed into his skull since he got here, which sounded a lot like his father.

"I have books. Who does she think she is?"

"Some who has never lead in battle?" Merlin offered dryly, watching her ~~retreat~~ ~~flounce~~ retreat. "You know your men back home follow you because you do so well. Not because of books."

Really. Books. Even he knew better than that when it came to battle.

Edited 2009-07-14 18:25 (UTC)

"My men follow me because I'm their prince, and it's my duty to lead," Arthur said, both overly idle and utterly evasive, and shook his head. "Whatever."

"And because you'd never lead them into anything you would not join them in," Merlin replied. "And do you think I follow you simply because you're a prince?"

Merlin was giving him an amused look just at the idea it was the reason. Really Arthur. Really.

"They wouldn't follow me if I was a coward," Arthur returned, his earlier flare-up of annoyance fading rather quickly. "So I can't be one. It's as simple as that."

He didn't answer the second part of Merlin's question mostly because on some level, he actually didn't know the answer. He was just going to wing it.

Merlin sighed quietly, moving closer so the conversation was a bit more private. "We follow you because we trust you, you great prat. You're a good man and will be a great king. I wouldn't have stayed with you in Camelot if you hadn't been who you are under all that bluster."

Arthur took a deep breath and cast a look out across the reserves. "You're very kind." There might be a day where he'd actually buy into that, but today wasn't it, and the whole row with Fiona was getting under his skin too much for comfort.

"We should take a ride after the reserves," he said, finally, "The horses have been stuck in the stable too long."

You kind of learned evasive, at Uther's court.

"After the meeting," Merlin confirmed, hand on Arthur's lower back now as some sort of support. "I mean it, Arthur. You're better then you think."

"Of course I am," Arthur said, as utterly smugly as he could possibly make that sound.

Pulling away from Merlin's hand was not a tell of any kind on that, and he'd thank you for recognising it as such.

Merlin dropped his hand back to his side quickly, nodding and looking down for a split second. He smiled once mirthlessly and nodded again.

"Right, sire."

"We're almost done here, right?" Arthur said, casting another look at the reserve. People were leaving. "Can't keep the horses waiting. We'll catch some sun, see if we can't find something to eat."

The note of sheer professionalism in his voice went a little over the top on disaffected cheer.

He glanced back at Merlin, the edges of his mouth turning up in a brief, tiny, genuine smile. "Save the masses from your chatter for the afternoon."

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Behind the Dorms, Tuesday Afternoon

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