Straight From The Horses Mouth

[Arthur Pendragon]

Today was more of an emotionally exhausting day, rather than a physically exhausting one. It was still early morning, very early morning, and Arthur had just made rounds, going to the different families to inform them of the death of their husbands, brothers, sons, or whatever the relation was. Most had known that they would not see them again -- just as Arthur had thought he would never see anyone he loved again when riding out into that field -- but still. The hope was still there. Now, there was no more hope. They were dead.

They died because Arthur had failed to protect the kingdom from the beast, which should have never been let out in the first place. That was on his to-do list: to find out how the dragon got loose. But it was not his priority. His priority that morning had been to inform the families and assure them that there would be a proper memorial service. Next on his list, were many things. Repair the city from its damages, find Morgana, strengthen their defenses . . . there was so much to do, and so little resources because of all that was lost in the attacks from the dragon. Not to mention the fact that the kingdom had been weakened from Morgause's attack not long before the dragons.

He had not slept much at all last night. There was a great deal to do, and he could not allow his mind to rest. Of course, the time he had spend with Guinevère was probably the most relaxation he had experienced for quite some time. But now it was back to work. He had changed out of his armor and was dressed in more casual clothing. What he was going to do now was not exactly a priority, but he felt it was something that he needed to do. He was on his way to see the stable boy. Arthur had hired Neav as his personal stable boy a few months prior because the boy had a strong sense of understanding, and loyalty to the horses. It was clear he cared for them a great deal, and that was why Arthur wanted to be the one to confirm the death of them.

When Arthur got to the stables he saw the boy with one of the horses. He must have known. When he was preparing the horses to be ridden out into the field, he must have known -- just like everyone else did -- that they would not be returning. Oh how fortunate Arthur had been to survive and prove everyone wrong in their assumption. Of course, it only made him feel more guilty as well. "Neav," he began, just to get the boys attention. Arthur found it difficult to mask the sadness in his voice this time. He could not express all the grief he was experiencing however; but to conceal all of the devastation was practically impossible.

_{Setting: In the Stables
Time of Day: Very early morning
Timeline: The morning after the dragon is defeated in The Last Dragonlord
Tag: Neav the Stable Boy}

[neav]

Neav stood trembling, his arms around the mare's neck and his face pressed close to her. Her chestnut coat was dark with his tears. Neav breathed her musty smell, tried to comfort himself with her closeness... But it could not light the darkness in his heart.
When he had prepared the horses for that fight with the dragon, of course he had known that they might not come back. Everyone had know it. It was a fruitless idea, an attack of desperation. But nothing could have prepared him for the reality of it.
And of course Neav had lived with the death of a horse-friend before. But never so many all at once! It had been so terrible. From the death of the first horse to the last, Neav had felt echoes of their pain. When nine of them had burned in the dragon's fire, Neav had screamed as though he burned with them.
"Fair Chance, Fair Chance..." he whispered the chestnut's name. "Oh Chance, so many brothers and sisters are gone..."

Suddenly someone came up behind him, spoke his name. Neav turned. His cheeks were wet and his eyes red from crying but he did not care. Neav found himself staring up into the saddened face of Prince Arthur.
Neav made a curious noise somewhere between a laugh and a hiccup. He could not deal with a Prince now! He could not be all politeness and all helpfulness, not today! Besides, it was that Prince's royal fault that all Neav's friends were dead. Suddenly he was very angry.

"Willow," Neav hissed the name of first horse who had died. "Cut down by dragon claws." His eyes glared accusingly through tears. "Azrael - the same. Comet and Rising Sun -" (two of the Prince's own horses, ridden by he and Merlin) "Paprika, Rillian, Embers, Falcon, Hero, Castor and Shadow. All burned to ashes." On the last word his voice cracked and Fair Chance nuzzled his arm. Her nose was soft as fresh raspberries but Neav ignored the comfort. He could not take comfort now.

[Arthur Pendragon]

It was very evident to how upset the boy was. Arthur had not expected any less. While he did not however expect the anger, he knew he should not have been surprised. The Prince would not argue with anyone who put blame his way; he would willingly take it. Part of it was exhaustion, lacking the energy to argue with anyone. The other part of it was the fact that there was truth to whatever guilt people made him feel. It had been his job to protect the citizens of Camelot, and he had failed miserably.

Arthur said nothing as Neav began to list, what Arthur assumed to be, the name of the horses who had died. Did he know they were all dead? Did he assume that they were because none had returned? It was a fair assumption indeed, but still. Oh well. No matter how he knew, the point was he did. Unless the boy asked for confirmation, Arthur did not feel the need to say that the horses were dead. He had spent the whole morning telling people that the knights were. Arthur was more upset over their deaths than the horses but it was clear that with the dragon attacks, everyone had felt the pain of loss in one way or another.

"I'm sorry," he said in a low voice, trying once again to hide the full magnitude of his sadness. What was he sorry for? Being the one responsible? The loss he was suffering? Everything. He had lost his men. His friends. He saw how much Neav valued the animals and knew that the boy regarded the deaths of the horses in the same way: losing a friend. He knew that it was not expected of a prince to justify himself or apologize to a servant. But he still felt the necessity to do so.

[neav]

Neav was too upset to notice the significance of the Prince's apology. No matter that royalty did not say sorry to servants. No matter that the Prince had risked his own life and had saved the rest of the city from the dragon. No matter that he had lost as many friends himself. Neav did not want him to say he was sorry! For once in his life, the gentle stable-boy wanted to fight. He wanted the Prince to be angry so that he could be angry right back!

"Sorry? So what?" he demanded, stamping his foot. His soft boots made no sound on the straw-covered floor. "So what? Sorry is not going to bring them back. Why ride horses to your stupid fights? Why? If everyone just left us alone we would not come close to spit at a stupid dragon! Do you know how scared Rising Sun was? Do you? I told him to trust you and you would bring him home safe. That is what I said! You made my words a lie and I hate you!"
Neav was shouting now. This pale, skinny boy was shouting through his tears at the Prince he worked for. The Prince who so often scared him, but who he had come to trust. The Prince who could kill him with a single blow, or arrest him at a single word. But Neav no longer cared. So many of his friends were dead. He felt he did not care if he died himself.

[Arthur Pendragon]

With one word, he could throw Neav in the dungeon. He had in fact, arrested men for a lot less. But he did nothing, other than letting the boy rant and get everything out of his system. The loss of the horses was not the biggest distraught he felt, but to the boy, clearly it was. Arthur doubted he would ever have such a strong bond with the horses. His strong bonds had been with the men who died. Not the animals. He stood there silently, not about to explain himself. There was no need. When one mourned for the death of someone, or in this case an animal, they cared about, no excuse mattered.

Arthur could handle the hatred from him. Hell, people in the kingdom probably blamed him for all sorts of things . . . why should this be an exception. He still did not say anything, looking at Neav with a slightly raised eyebrow. The boy looked infuriated, and devastated at the same time. He was not sure what to say . . . as he previously established, words would make no difference in this situation. "You're right," Arthur said in reference to Neav stating that sorry would not bring them back. He was not going to bring up the other knights, and that it was not only the horses that died. Surely Neav knew, but his loyalty was to the animals, where as Arthur's were more directed towards the citizens. "Everyone that died, died an honorable death as they displayed the utmost signs of courage, loyalty and honor." Arthur found himself repeating the exact same words he had said to the mourning families earlier today. He did not know how else to console someone.

[neav]

Neav stared up at him, ice-eyes blazing. Why was the Prince not angry? Neav had said the worst things he could think of and blamed him for everything. Why did he not get angry? Neav wanted him to shout so that he could shout back! A fight with only one fighter is no fight at all.
Neav drew in a shuddering breath. The Prince's soft agreement, the way he took all blame without a fight... it made Neav feel almost ashamed. The boy made a choking noise and stepped back, pressing himself to Fair Chance's side.
He did not hate Prince Arthur. Not really. He had shouted that to try and make him angry and it had not worked.

"Why are you so calm?" Neav demanded. In his unhappiness, he said things that he never dared to say. "Why don't you hit me or get angry or say you will kill me? Why not? If Embers and Comet and Rising Sun and Willow and everyone... if they are all dead maybe I should be dead too. I said the worst thing to you! Why are you not angry?"

[Arthur Pendragon]

The boy was growing more and more upset, and Arthur knew he was not doing anything to alleviate the tension or remorse. Not that he could do anything for the boy. He could not do anything for anyone who was suffering over losses of the recently deceased. He once again, had not expected Neav to say what he had. Was he challenging him? Did he want to fight? To kill him? Arthur knew all too well what it felt like to carry such heated anger towards someone. Someone that you ordinarily may not have. Arthur had after all, thrown down a gauntlet to his father and nearly killed him.

Such anger made a person irrational and Arthur truly hoped that Neav did not do anything to this extent. He did not want to hurt the boy and while he knew he did not pose as a threat to the Prince . . . you never know. All Arthur did know was that he had better answer his question before his looming silence only further enraged the boy. Why was he so calm? Arthur felt like he needed to answer that one, as oppose to the others questioning why he was not hitting Neav or threatening him, or punishing him for his hateful words. No. He would answer why he was so calm. Why he was not angry.

"Because you're right." Arthur, the Prince of Camelot, very rarely admitted to a person when they were right. As many times as Merlin had been right, Arthur had only said such words very few times to him. For a man with as much pride as Arthur, it was not easy to admit that. But now, he was so stricken with grief and guilt, that he could not deny it. Arthur did not open up to others either, so while his words were true and sincere, they lacked overwhelming emotions behind them. He was not going to cry. He could not. "I failed to protect everyone; those that are dead, are dead because of my failure." This was an equally difficult, if not more difficult, thing for Arthur to admit; that he failed. He did not say this to evoke any sort of pity or sympathy from anyone. He did it because he believed it to be the complete truth.

He did not want the boy to die. He had not gotten to know him overly well, only as much as a prince knows a servant, but still. He was a child. "And if you die, what will that solve? Who will care for the ones who remain?" The horses who remain. Arthur knew he had no right to ask Neav to stay alive for his own peace of mind. So he would remind the boy that the horses needed him. That they needed his devotion to them, as Arthur had never seen anyone as devoted to these animals as Neav. He needed to be reminded of that right now, because he did something . . . well, suicidal.

[Ahh! Sorry that got a little long!]

[neav]

Neav clenched his teeth and fists as the Prince admitted to his failings. Said that he would not punish him, because he knew that all the deaths were his own fault. Neav did not know what it cost the Prince to say such a thing. He did not see the emotions raging behind those solemn eyes. All he knew was that his friends were dead and he wanted to hurt the person responsible. Neav did not guess how much the Prince must be hurting already.

Neav raised his skinny arms, fists doubled as if to attack. Though any attack would have been pointless, even pitiful; him so small and the Prince so strong and trained for fighting. But Neav did not care. He wanted to hurt him like his lovely friends had been hurt!
Then the gentle words of caring for those who remained eased their way into his mind. For a moment Neav still glared like a ragged wolf wanting to kill... then a kind of shudder went through him and his arms dropped useless to his sides.
The Prince was right. If Neav got himself killed.... Young Gillyflower still bolted when she did not like her rider. If Neav did not teach her no, she would be sold. Hemlock was expecting a foal and Sheer Folly was lame - the reason why that courageous mare had not been ridden out.
Those who had died had their dreadful moment of pain, but for them it was over. Neav had not right to feel sorrow for them now. And if the sorrow was for his own pain then it was nothing but selfishness. He had shouted at the Prince who he had come to like working for... just for selfishness?

His eyes filled with fresh tears, drowning the anger.
"They were so scared," Neav whispered. "So afraid but they did not bolt... not a single one of them. They kept the tight group and then circled out like they were asked..." not realising that he knew far more about the battle than he should have. Neav bit his lip. "Could you have done and killed that dragon without them?" And suddenly he really needed to know that. Suddenly it really mattered that Rising Sun and Comet, Falcon, Willow, Embers, Rillian and Hero, Castor, Shadow, Paprika... that they had a reason to die. Sometimes a stallion died fighting to protect his herd. If these had died for protecting all the other horses in the stables, that would be something Neav could understand.

((It is ok. I like to read it! Sorry my one before was so short! It was my worst post for a while, I think...))

[Arthur Pendragon]

Neav's anger seemed to be replaced by a more evident state of sadness now. His emotions were going back and forth, and Arthur recognized this. He even understood this. Had he not spent his life withholding his own emotions, he would have had these kinds of outbursts when he was massively upset. He still did sometimes, as no one was perfect. Either way, everyone was entitled to express what they were feeling for everyone reacted to grief differently. If this was Neav's way of reacting to it . . . well, at least he was dealing with it. At least he was past the denial stage of it.

Arthur did not yet notice Neav's detailed knowledge. If he remembered his words later in their conversation, then he would bring it up but for now, he was focused on convince the boy that the horses had not been the only ones afraid. "Everyone was afraid," Arthur said. He had not noticed the horse's fear as much as the fear of the citizens. Even the knights, men who displayed signs of courage and valor, were still afraid for it was impossible not to be. Had Arthur been afraid? Absolutely. He could not show it though. He had to be the one to lead them out on that field, and how could he have done so if he was trembling, afraid of having seen the people he loved for the last time. Yes . . . it was impossible to be unafraid of what happened. Some were just more open about it than others.

Arthur knew the answer to Neav's question, though he paused for a moment, still -- oddly enough -- not minding justifying his actions to him. He did not mind answering his questions. If it helped him, if it alleviated his pain, then why not? "We could not have killed the dragon as quickly as we did. He would have without a doubt, reached the city by the time we had arrived to the field on foot. And fighting him in the city would not give us as much of an advantage as fighting him in the field. Camelot may not have survived another knight of the brutal attack, so the sooner we could encounter the beast the better." He allowed a moment of silence to pass. "The horses granted us the speed and efficiently we desperately needed."

[It wasn't a bad post at all! Your posts are super easy to reply to which of course means that they're awesome ]

[neav]

He said everyone had been afraid. Did that mean even himself? Even the Prince of Camelot, champion and protector of the Kingdom who had fought so many evils and won victory every time?
Perhaps it was true. Neav did not understand why he wanted to believe that even this so-brave Prince had fear. Maybe it was to do with fairness.

Nor did he know why he clung to Prince Arthur's words as though they could raise the dead. The memory of the horses was so fresh in his mind, he longed for the assurance that they had been needed. That they really had been protector's of the kingdom, in their own ways. It made the loss a little, a very little easier to accept.

Neav scubbed a hand over the back of his eyes. Then he remembered that he had shouted at the Prince, said that he hated him... and it was not true. Now he felt guilty as well as miserable. He lowered his eyes, no longer meeting the Prince's gaze.
"I am sorry I shouted," Neav mumbled unhappily to his feet. "I... did not mean it. I don't hate you..."
But why did this terrible thing have to happen? It was so unfair.


[Thanks.... it is so nice of you saying. And the same is true for you!]

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur did not blame Neav for lashing out. He understood the pain of loss. There were only very few who had the audacity to actually yell at the Prince. It was not that Arthur enjoyed it, but he understood it. He had put people in the dungeon for less, but in the mourning process . . . everyone dealt in different ways. Denial, anger, blame; all of these things coincided with the grieving process, so did Arthur expect an apology? Not really. He was just glad to see that Neav had calmed down and hoped it meant he was coming to terms with the recent death of his friends.

"It's fine," Arthur said a bit passively. He was not sure what else to say for he did not want to admit that Neav would have been in his right to yell at the Prince. Arthur did not exactly want to condone this kind of behavior. "I'm sure you're not the only one who thinks it, or wants to say it," he commented referring to Neav saying that he hated him. It was something Arthur had to accept; that not all of his people would always be impressed with his decisions, and that there would always be blame placed on him -- and his father -- for the deaths of any casualties of war or vicious attacks on Camelot.

[neav]

It was curious that the one time that Neav would not care if he was punished, was the time that he did not seem to be in trouble. Though to be fair, it was rarely the Prince of Camelot who found him fault. Neav sneaked a glance up at the Prince, just to make sure, and saw that he still did not look angry at all. Neav could not guess from his express what he was feeling... but then, the boy never had been good at that sort of thing.
He stared back down at his feet.

And the Prince's next commant surprised him. Neav suddenly had a rush of an idea what it must be like to be a Prince. Everyone would know everything that you did... you could never crawl away and hide, never walk invisible and private in a street. If you made a mistake the whole kingdom would blame you, not just one angry master.
Neav suddenly realised that the Prince probably had the most difficult job in all the world. Childish, the boy had never thought of such things before. He was not sure what to do with the idea when his head was so full of sadness for his friends.

"Most people... most people say that you will be a good king," Neav whispered. He was not sure why he said that. It was quite true. Most people did believe such a thing, some even whispering that they looked to the time when King Uther would die.
Neav did not mention the slain horses again. Having shouted out his anger, he now wanted to keep that sadness private. He would cry again at night, on his own and he would never ever forget a single one of them... but now he wanted to keep those feelings buried deep inside himself.
Neav felt suddenly much older.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Most people say you will be a good king. That was not the first time Arthur had heard someone say that, nor would it be the last during his reign as prince, before his one as King commenced. Did it help him feel less insecure about his abilities as a future ruler? No. It helped ease some of that worry when the people held that kind of faith in him, but at the same time, he felt as if he was being built up to be an ideal ruler. One that people would be proud of. One that would encompass every good quality, eliminating the negative ones that they saw in Uther. Arthur felt as if he was being placed on a pedestal and he would only end up disappointing everyone who had such high hopes and expectations for him.

Did he vocalize all of these concerns? Never. He would not dare do so. Perhaps the only one who he had done so with was Guinevère. But anyone else, he would have to keep these sort of thoughts to himself. He had to be more confident otherwise, he would lose the people before he even had their loyalty as a king. At the same time, he did not want to sound like he was fishing for compliments. His arrogance and cockiness only went so far. He stayed silent for a few moments. "And what would you say to them?"

His tone was formal, as he did not want to sound too eager to know the answer. He would keep the emotions void from his tone about certain subjects. But he did indeed wonder what Neav did think of his capabilities as a king. He had just expressed how much he disliked him; was the boy one of the people who trusted him enough to rule the kingdom. Or did he already strongly disagree with his decisions that he had made, still under the authority of Uther.

[neav]

Neav glanced at the Prince, met his eyes for a moment and then looked down again. He understood the question well enough, but was not sure how to answer. It was not that people said to him that they thought the Pendragon prince would rule well; he was just the little stable-boy. But he had heard them whisper it in conversations that he should not have listened too.... That was how he knew.

As for himself, well. Neav had grown to love the Prince he worked for, even though he was still afraid of him. He felt that the Prince would make the very best of kings... Neav gave him a rather doubtful look and began to fiddle with Fair Chance's mane.
"How can I say if you would be good at it or bad? I know nothing of ruling a contry..." he murmured, dancing around the question.
It was true. If Neav's heart told him that the Prince would be wonderful, his head could tell him exsactly nothing.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur was not stupid. He knew that Neav was avoiding the question, and he did not want to continue to put the boy on the spot after he was already emotional from the loss of the animals. So he said nothing more; he did not pry and demand an answer to his question on the subject of what Neav thought of him as a Prince and future king. While Arthur was arrogant on the outside, inside he was a bit different. And he knew that now was not the time or place to be making such jokes. It was a time to grieve, a time to mourn.

Speaking of Arthur not being stupid . . . "How did you know the details of the battle?" He suddenly asked, his tone not overly demanding. He was aware that Neav had revealed more than he ought to have known, but he had not commented on the time as he was still attempting to calm the boy down. But now, it was a curious thing. Had someone told him? But who? Who would have given such details since there were very few survivors and he doubted that those who had survived would have discussed the positions and such of those on the battlefield.

[neav]

Neav made a tiny braid through Chance's main, holding his breath in the silence. He hoped that the Prince would not press the question because he knew that he would never be able to express his opinion in the right way. It would either sound like he was lying to be polite, that he was a stupid adoring child or that was trying to suck up to the Prince after shouting at him. So when the question was not pressed Neav could not help but feel glad... untill another one was suddenly asked.

Neav's braiding fingers froze. His face grew white as a ghost as he remembered how, in his angery shouting, he had told of the movements the horses had made. He had told in the order they were killed... information that he had no right to know.
Neav opened his mouth, but no sound came out. What could he say? I know because my Grandfather is Anhora, Keeper of the Unicorn. I know because I am a Creature of Magic and I share my heart with the horses... No. Then he would be killed and while he might not have cared about that a moment ago, the Prince had made him see different. He had a duty to the horses still alive.

But Neav was as bad at lying as he had ever been.
"I - I was... I was..." he began stuttering. Then in a sudden rush he knew what he could say. "... watching. And - and listening -"
And to his surprise he felt tears dancing in his eyes again.
He told no lie, but implyed another truth. It sounded like he had been hiding in the forest, watching a battle he had no right to see. Not watching from the stables, through the minds of his horses and feeling their every move and pain.

[Arthur Pendragon]

He had been watching the battle? How would he have gotten there so quickly when were on horseback and had not heard him? He supposed that sometime during all the commotion . . . but it still did not seem to make much sense. Arthur slightly raised an eyebrow and looked at Neav a bit skeptically. "You were there, during the battle?" His question was a bit sarcastic, as he didn't quite believe it . . . but then how else would he know so many details? He doubted the first thing that the survivors did was run to the stable boy and tell him. Or even be willing to give an re-enactment of the battle so shortly after it was over.

But how could Arthur have missed this? Surely they would have noticed his presence. "How?" He asked, feeling as if that one word could encompass all of the questions and doubts he had about Neav's answer. He seemed nervous giving his answer but that could also be due to the fact that he was afraid to admit that he had been there. Either way, Arthur was expecting a more detailed explanation. He had been willing to let the other question go by, but he was not ready to let this one rest unanswered.

[neav]

Neav chewed on his lip as though he wished to draw blood. Even to Neav who was so slow at reading people, it was clear that the Prince did not believe. And he had thought he was so clever! This was the problem with lying, even if you did not actually say the lie; people asked questions and then you were forced to invent more and more until you forgot where you had started and were tangled in your own web...

Neav was panicking. Since he had learned of his secret, there had been no trouble hiding it. But now he had been upset and foolish and might have just arranged his own death... he had to fix this somehow. He had to try and complete his lie.

"I - I -" Neav stuttered, looking so guiltly that it was obvious he had done something wrong. "I took Indigo..." he named a young black colt, barely three years old and not yet broken to saddle. "Took Indigo and followed... it was dark and we kept in the shadows and you were racing and never looked behind..."
It was a lie, oh it was such a lie but what else could he do when the truth would mean his death? He gazed up at the Prince, a picture of miserable guilt. If this story was not believed, he did not know what he would do.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur still was not sure whether to believe the boy. But what reason would he have to lie? What other logical explanation could he have for how much he knew about the battle? His knowledge was far too . . . detailed. "And you were there, for the entire duration of the fight?" How had Merlin and him not seen him return? They had ensured that there were no survivors, and it had been so quiet on the return to the castle . . . how did they not even have a clue that there was another presence among them? Especially a boy mounted on a horse.

"How is it that we did not see you, or hear you?" Though Neav had said that he rode and hid in the shadows, and that they had not looked behind . . . he still felt that did not explain everything. Arthur knew there were more pressing concerns than this, but really, it had struck curiosity in the prince and frankly, it was a welcomed diversion from constantly having to think about everything they had lost, though it was not far from his mind. Arthur did not read too much into Neav's expression either, only recognizing it as perhaps the look of someone who knew they had been caught, for spying on a battle.

[neav]

Neav scuffed his shoes, so uncomfortable. The Prince was not accusing him of lying... not yet. But Neav was sure there was only so many questions he could answer before tripping over himself and making the lie obvious.
"I went - went away after all my friends... all the horses..." he did not want to say the words again. And it was true that after the death of the horses he knew no more of the battle. He only knew the rumor that was already flying from ear to ear: Prince Arthur had wounded the dragon so badly that it had flown away.

He swallowed, trying to think of an answer to the second question. Tried to think if he really had been there and had not been seen and had not been hidden by the magic of the unicorns...
"I don't know," he said, rather helplessly. He was almost wishing now that the Prince would catch him in his lie. But that would only start another string of terrible questions and end in death. He sighed. When he had said he would return to Camelot even though it was in danger to his life, he had not really understood what that meant. He saw that he would have to very quickly become very good at lying.