Poke You With My Needle

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur was not in the best of moods. He had gone on a perilious journey only to have his efforts crushed . . . literally, by his father who destroyed the flower. He had managed to give it to Guinevère, or what remained of it, and hoped it was enough to save the servant. He heard that Merlin was recovering, but still! Arthur could not believe his father locked him in the dungeon! Still, he did not regret his actions of defiance towards him for he believed he had done the right thing. Merlin risked his life for Arthur, and he had to do the same for him.

Thankfully, one of the guards had snuck Arthur out of the dungeons. He had to swear to keep the knight's identity a secret for if his father found out . . . there would be a lot of problems. With that being said, Arthur could not stay in the castle for that time. Instead, he spent all night wandering around the city . . . not able to sleep as it would not look good for the prince of Camelot to be curled up on the street, sleeping like a begger. No. Instead, he used the excuse that he was patrolling, making sure that the streets were safe. He had a sword with him, and it made this small fib more believable.

Along with the lack of any sleep, came impatience and frustration. He was not in a good mood at all. It was nearing sunrise, and Arthur had to wait about one more hour before returning to the castle . . . for his father had ordered his release first thing in the morning so he could pretend like he had been in the dungeon all night. But Arthur was getting restless. He was tired, hungry, cranky, and annoyed. He was counting down the minutes . . . the seconds even! As he walked, doing his best not to stumble, a small carriage was passing by and one of the protruding pieces of wood sticking out from it, caught on to Arthur's shirt. Neither of them noticed this however . . . until a large rip could be heard. The man apologize profusely, but Arthur was too tired and irritated to convince him that it was alright. Instead, he looked at the very large rip, that exposed nearly half his arm.

He glared at the man -- deep down knowing it wasn't something he had intentionally done -- but didn't care to assure him of that. He demanded the where abouts of the nearest seamstress. The only one he knew by name was Gwen, and he could not go back to the castle to get her help . . . plus, she was probably ensuring Merlin's help. The man pointed him to the direction of a small house and without any word of thanks, Arthur followed his direction. He did not knock; he walked right in. "Is anybody here? I have an emergency!" he stated in a demanding voice, though it was not too high in volume. It was loud enough and stern enough for the person who was going to stitch his shirt, to know that he needed their services right away.


_{Setting: Seamstress shop, small residence
Time of Day: Early Morning, around 5:00 am
Timeline: Early season 1, shortly after The Poisoned Chalice
Tag: Elora}

[Enmyria]

The sounds of someone 'speaking' and moving from below awakened Elora. She was about to call out her window for the night watch before she heard his words. Oh dear! What must have happened?! She hurried out of bed and wrapped an old coat around her to save her modesty, before hurrying down the narrow steps. "oh dear! Is someone hurt? Shall I run get the doctor?!"

She paused were she was, seeing who was there and tried to think of something to say. It had been YEARS since she had come face to face with Arthur. They had at one time been play mates, long before one knew better then to play with boys, or boys with girls. Then a few years after that her life took another turn in the death of her father. Now the Prince was in her house . . . in the middle of the night . . . Elora dropped a quick bow, "Do you need me to run to get help, Sire?"

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur made a face, still looking at the rip in his shirt. He most certainly could not meet his father looking this disheveled . . . even though he was supposed to be coming straight out of the dungeon. When he heard a woman's voice, clearly concerned, quickly approach him, he looked at her. It was odd. There was a bizarre familiarity about her . . . something he could not quite place, and that was yet something else which was going to terribly irritate him. "Unless you are not a seamstress, then yes." He knew she was just paying him respect and showing concern for his 'emergency'

"If you are however a seamstress, then I will need no one else." He looked back at the rip in his shirt and sort of held it up so that the entire thing could be seen more clearly. "You you have the ability to fix this?" He asked in a slightly . . . not, very, agitated voice.

[Enmyria]

Elora stood there for a moment in shock. It might have been more then a moment, she wasn't sure, but she knew she was so shocked that she could not move. Not her feet, or arms, or even her face which HAD to show the shock she felt. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth hanging open could not have made her appear very smart either. Still, she was in shock. Oh dear, was very much not the words in her mind right now, and had her dear father knew she even KNEW these words he would rise from his grave!

Had the Prince REALLY just entered her house as if he owned it, and awoken her from sleeping claiming it was so very important over a ripped shirt that any citizen, much less the castle's resident servants could have stitched in a short time frame? Is this was it was like to be rich or a prince? To think everyone was at your beck and call? Oh very sad. Elora pittied him, and she didn't like to pity anyone! She also knew she should speak up before he thought her witless but she could not think of what to say. She had only just recalled to shut her mouth so it was not hanging open like a fishwife's! She wanted to yell how dare he, or pretend not to know who he was, or something but she could not think of anything to say, much less stop staring at the spoiled playboy prince long enough to order him out.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur was staring at the rip for quite some time, before he realized that the room was filled with silence. He looked at her . . . and she was just standing there, eyes wide. She was just standing there! Arthur did not have time to stand around here, playing some game of who can talk the least. She wasn't even telling him if she was in fact a seamstress or not! This was a perfect waste of Arthur's time, and yet, the man who carried the weapon responsible for this horrible incident, told him that the best seamstress in town resided in this house. "Have you some sort of mental affliction?" he asked, slightly sarcastic, it was more due to annoyance than anything though.

"Are you, or are you not a seamstress?" He asked again, this time articulating each word. "I do not have time to stand here and play guessing games. If you can not assist me, then I will be on my way to find someone who can. But tell me now so that I do not waste time." Clearly, he was talking about wasting his time, not acknowledging the inconvenience he had put her in.

[Enmyria]

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Elora opened her mouth to tell him she was NOT the one he was looking for and he might try else were but then stopped only because deep down she was NOT like him. She was not going to be mean, just because he was mean. "I do not have anything wrong with my mental state, Sire, I was simple shocked to find that this is an emergency. One would have thought someone was hurt." Wait! "Is there someone hurt?" He was known to be the best, what if he had killed someone! "What attacked you?" She held concern in her voice, and clutched the coat that was around her tighter.

What if, someone had attacked him and there had been a battle out side?! What if he wanted his shirt fixed so he could brag about how they did not touch him?! Oh Dear! "Or, I meant, Who would dare?" She had however heard about the attempts on his life recently.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Really? REALLY?! She was still just standing there and hadn't even answered his question! For all he knew, she could be some under qualified person and the real seamstress was somewhere else. Yes, his shirt was hurt! What attacked him?! "A piece of bloody wood attacked me!" The lack of sleep really was wearing his patience thin. He should be more kind to a citizen of the kingdom that he would one day rule, for he understood that true respect and loyalty was assumed. But right now . . . his mind was not thinking that critically. He just wanted to get this over with!

"Now are you able to mend this shirt or not? I do not have the time to stand here and ask the same question repeatedly." Was he going to make any progress? "Is there anyone else in your house that I can talk to?" . . . Besides you! Well, at least Arthur didn't add that last very rude bit in, but he certainly was thinking it.

[Enmyria]

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He was being rude! Elora was about to say something she KNEW she would regret when he asked his last question. She knew better, she knew better a million times over and she wondered if she was brave enough. She watched him for a moment before putting on a large smile. If he thought her an idiot now, just wait until she started speaking. "Oh Sire, would you!?" She asked doing her best to appear innocent and clueless as to what he really meant. "My mother is slightly ill, and she would just love for someone to talk to! Everyone says you only care about your self, and the city but this proves you DO care for the people!"

"Thank you so much for the offer, however my mother needs her rest, so if you will wait a moment, I will run dress my self before attending to your clothing. It would not do for someone to see my in my underthings in the same room with someone of your reputation! How scandals!" With that she gave a quick bow and RAN from the room before he could order someone to drag her away in chains--or worse, insult her again!

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur just stood there, dumbfounded, as she scurried away. Had she just said that to him?! She had the audacity to say that to him?! No one was that bold, and in the mood Arthur was in right now, it was not wise to be bold. If he did not need her skills right now, he may have considered throwing her in the dungeon! . . . No. He would never have done that. Part of the reason was because he could not go back there right now. He was forced out of his own home!

All Arthur wanted was for his shirt to be mended and for him to confront his father which was going to be no doubt, filled with a lecture of how he disobeyed him and how he should never do anything like that again. Arthur was in no mood, and now . . . here was this woman, prolonging this already painful day! As soon as his talk with his father was done, he wanted to curl into his nice big warm bed, and sleep for the rest of his life. He decided to occupy himself. He began walking around the place, looking at everything, but not picking it up. It was such a small, quaint home. So different from his large chambers. Oh well. Arthur had a rip in his shirt! Thats all he cared about. He let out a very large, very loud frustrated sigh and hoped she could hear him from upstairs.

[Enmyria]

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Elora did not hear him.

Elora had ran up the steps as fast as she could and starting to dress her self as silently as she could so not to wake her sleeping mother. There was no need to awaken everyone else just because one spoiled rude prince came in and started a ruckus. She put on something simple and pale, and worn.

She was not a simpleton. She knew very well the prince had not known who she was. Not that one expected him to recall a child he had only sometimes played with. That had been so many years ago before her father died. Her father had died in service to the king; and in thanks for that the king had given him a hero's burial, a pretty speech, and then patted the giving window on the back before turning around and forgetting their names, while he continued to rid the world of magic.

Elora walked back down the steps, and watched him for a moment, he had not remembered her and had not even asked, or called her by name. She was glad she was not raised this way. "If you would like, Sire, you can leave you shirt here and I can have it sent to the castle with in the hour for you." She offered as it would take a little time to get it perfect for him.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur waited impatiently, and was relieved when she finally returned. The solution she presented was not an option. At least she had finally made some sort of remark about fixing his shirt though, and therefore, pulling him out from this predicament. "I can not leave my shirt here and wander around the city half nude." Nor could he randomly hide away somewhere, OR have the shirt sent back to the castle. It was not going to be that easy to sneak back in and he needed to be fully clothed when he saw his father, which was going to be immediately after he was released from the dungeon. He doubted he would have time to change.

"Can you not just mend it while it is on. It should not be that difficult," he concluded, though he knew absolutely nothing about sewing or stitching in any way. He already began to remove the various bits of armor he was wearing. He then stuck out his half exposed arm to her, showing the very clear rip. "Here. Now do what you do, so that I can be on my way. And make it quick, I have many things to do." Well, not really, but it was better than telling her the real reason he was in a rush. No one needed to know.