Bad Romance? [Arthur|Romily]

[Romily de Braose]

She couldn’t help but laugh when Arthur began to tease her about being alone in caves with men. “Thankfully no” she grinned, “im a good girl”. Now that sounded cheesy, “oh I meet interesting people everyday, whether they’re in caves or not!”. this was true – the people who came to the inn were beyond boring. The ones that were travelling anyway.

Romily bowed her head when he said he was honoured. “There are very few who know – only two at present. No one else knows – I don’t want them to, it may force them to re-think their opinions of me”. She admitted. Romily didn’t want special treatment nor did she expect it, should anyone in the village find out about her roots of her past.

She could tell that Arthur still didn’t like the idea of how Eldon treated her. "At least it keeps you busy," he’d said a little unconvincingly in her view. She nodded quickly and smiled, “Oh it is!” it was some of the time – only when he wasn’t moaning at her. “I find my days now pass by much quicker than they used to when I was back at Wolfhall”. Most of those days had been spent in her room reading or sewing.

She kept her hand clutched at her side over her wound, Arthur now coming over to inspect what was wrong. She could immediately see by his expression that he wasn’t too happy about the look of it either. At his suggestion she shook her head. “We’ll never get to the village if I have to keep stopping – come now, lets get going before we have anymore delays. I can manage a little further,” she told him sternly. She wasn’t taking no for an answer on this one.

Holding her head high, she began to walk on. It wasn’t going to be long before they reached their destination anyway.

[Arthur Pendragon]

At least their attempt to lighten the mood seemed to work a bit more. It was distracting from the pain and it was just very refreshing to be able to talk with just a light joviality which was radically different than the conversations that had taken place between them since they first met . . . until now of course. "But of course you mean that the most interesting you have ever met was the one in a cave, whose company you are still blessed with." Arthur was continuing to joke. His exaggerated cockiness was something he usually jested about, especially when he felt that it would not be taken too seriously or with too much annoyance by the other. With his knights, and Merlin, it was different. He would be cocky and usually mean it. With women and more casual friends, it was all just part of a bit of fun. Seeing how they reacted, if they reacted at all. He continued to understand all too well when she spoke about not wanting others to rethink their opinions of her. He instantly comprehended this desire. It was why he was dressed down right now in casual hunting attire; and it was why he had not yet told her that he was the prince of Camelot and heir to the throne.

He did not want her to alter her opinion of him, as he was enjoying the casualness of their conversation. He did not wish to change that and her discovering this piece of information pertaining to his could have the ability to do that. And quite potentially could cause them to revert to a whole new level of awkwardness. They had passed that, so there was no need to go back to it. "That is understandable. Sometimes, you just want to be treated like everyone else. In a way that titles mean nothing." That she is judged by how she acts rather than who her family is. Again, he knew all too well what this desire felt like. At least she was continuing to enjoy her self in the tasks she was occupied with. Arthur would have said something, had he not been distracted with her wound. But she passively dismissed it, saying that they should carry on rather than slow themselves. Arthur was not in agreement, so he just stood there as she began to continue to walk. He knew that he could not argue with her all too much. Last time he had, and he had won, she had proven him wrong.

Of course that did not alleviate the stubbornness that he had, but it just made him more aware that they were less likely to stop, and filled him with more concern as she pressed forward. He jogged a few steps to catch up with her, now walking alongside her, still unable to cease worrying about the injury she was afflicted with. "You need to pace yourself," he told her, knowing that it could not be easy to walk with such an injury. The only reason he was even managing to trudge forward was because this had not been his first wound in such circumstances. But it could very well be hers. "Just, take your time," he said, slowing his own pace so that she would be more inclined to do the same . . . or so he hoped. "The second you start to feel faint, we will stop." That much would hopefully be undisputed. Hopefully she would adhere to this logic and be in agreement of it rather than try to keep pushing herself.

[Romily de Braose]

It was extraordinary – the way how they now seemed to be speaking at ease with one another when just a mere few hours previously they’d been jumping at their own shadows, and at one another’s attire. She couldn’t help but laugh a little more at his playful cockiness that he had going on, in fact she laughed so much that it hurt her side. She put her hand to it and nodded her head, “well if a yes is the answer you want then I suppose I will agree – in fact Arthur, you are the first man ever to end up with me in a cave and then faint on me”
She shook her head and looked at him with a grin, “you should feel privileged”. Now she was sounding like an idiot and then shook her head, “No, actually you shouldn’t” she smiled, “after all, how can ending up wounded and almost naked in a cave with a stranger be a privilege?”. How could ending up with her be a privilege??

"That is understandable. Sometimes, you just want to be treated like everyone else. In a way that titles mean nothing."

At this she looked up at him and frowned, “Yes?” she said suspiciously. Romily couldn’t have put it any better herself; it was like Arthur knew exactly how she was feeling. “You feel like people will judge you just because of who you are, when really they need to look behind the mask that you sometimes have to wear because of it.” She began. “Everyone expects you to live up to your name, who you are, how you should act, who you should marry – things like that always bothered my father, and I never felt any freedom because of it but now…now I can be the girl who I’ve always wanted to be, regardless of my unfortunate background”.

“Now you sound a little like my father” she scoffed, “Don’t do that Romily, you’ll end up with grass stains on your dress – close that window or you’ll catch a chill” she mimicked his gruff voice, “Really, im a grown woman, I know how I feel” she smiled at his concern. “I will” she nodded, “and I’ll make a compromise with you, if I start to feel faint then we’ll stop, but for now we carry on until we find somewhere to stay – truce?” she eyed him with a smirk.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur would have felt guilty for making her laugh enough to cause her side to ache, had he not been so relieved to just hear her laugh and see her smile. This woman, who had first come to him in a panicked frenzy, and who he had asked difficult things of, and who was clearly in pain from her injury . . . was smiling and enjoying the cheesy humor that Arthur provided. It was a big relief to him, to see her spirits lifted and it had a contagious effect for he was finding himself smiling more and more. He chuckled at her formally saying that he was the first man she had ever ended up in a cave with, and furthermore, had fainted on her . . . literally. "I suppose I can feel somewhat privileged at being the first in this category," he began to say, in almost a playful pensive way. "It can be a privilege when that person you end up with, is me," he continued to joke, humorously answering her question. He knew she was right, that it was not exactly a good thing for them to have ended up where they did. But he was just keeping up with the less intense topics of conversation.

Arthur did not pick up on her suspicious tone. While he felt he was good at reading people, sometimes the truth of it was that he was terrible at it. As she spoken, Arthur felt he could relate to her more and more, yet continued to keep this to himself. It just reminded him so much of himself; from the way she spoken of living up to his name, to not having the freedom to even marry whomever he chose. Living up to his name was something that caused him great pressure. He was to be King of Camelot. A ruler. A leader. An ultimate authority. The pressures associated with this position was something that never left Arthur's mind or soul for he was terrified of not succeeding, though he could never admit his deeply rooted insecurities. He had been raised to suppress emotions rather than express them for he had always been taught that emotions were a weakness. Something that his father still reminded him off when he disagreed with the king's judgments.

The freedom of choosing a wife -- or lack there of -- was something that also terribly bothered Arthur . . . since the moment he had fallen in love with someone. When he was younger, it had always been in his mind that his father would choose a wife, for political reasons really, and that it would be arranged fr him to marry her. But Arthur no longer wanted this, for he had not expected to fall in love with someone who had claimed his heart. He could not see himself with any other woman, and yet, he knew that a future between them was difficult. But that would not discourage him from fighting for it. Even if she was a servant, and even if it was not a politically beneficial marriage . . . Arthur was learning that the person that someone loved, only made them stronger, for Guinevère was indeed Arthur's greatest strength.

Arthur pulled himself back into the conversation, knowing he could not let his thoughts trail off too much. "Do you ever think you will return home, or that any regret over leaving will be too much to bare?" Arthur did not only ask for the sake of conversation, but because he was genuinely curious. Even though she seemed happy, did she still feel any strong ties to her life back home, or her family? She was in a position that he always thought about, and wondered what it would be like. Now that he was in the company of someone who was actually living it, he was curious as to what their thoughts were; what their emotional process was. He knew that some questions could be far too personal, and perhaps his inquiries could arouse a bit of suspicion, but his curiosity was indeed getting the better of him as he asked anyway, awaiting her response.

Arthur made a face when she compared him to her father. He knew she was joking, but his reaction was one that any young man would do if compared to the parent of someone equal to his age . . . approximately. "I do not!" He protested with a bit of a pout, arguing in almost a sarcastic and exaggerated way which made him sound practically like a child. His mock expression of offense transformed to a smile when she offered him a compromise. "I suppose I could agree to that," he agreed, but there was an underlying sincerity to his voice. It would not cease him in worrying for her, but at least she was willing to agree to take her time and not rush if she was not feeling up to it. "You wouldn't believe me if I said that I needed to rest right now, would you?" He asked. It would have been only as an excuse to rest and therefore, actually force her to rest. But she had proved that she was not naive or less than intelligent. She would most likely see through his attempt which is why he asked the question in almost a kidding way, for he was already aware of the answer.

[Romily de Braose]

His fake arrogance that he was providing was most certainly hilarious. She laughed again and then calmed herself, “I haven’t laughed this much since…well…since I can’t remember” she admitted.
Romily couldn’t laugh around her father. It wasn’t ladylike according to him – who was there to laugh with anyway? Bonnie? No, she and Bonnie never had much to laugh about. Her father didn’t let her see anyone, apart from that unfortunate time she’d found herself interrupting an important feast with the royal family of Armorica. In a way she missed Luciana, but she was glad to be away from that life.

She could see that he was in deep thought after hearing her words. She’d seen that look on many a man before. She’d become accustomed to hearing of their troubles day in and day out, even if they were complete strangers. “You keep on thinking any harder and you’ll end up with a headache” she joked.
No, this was the look that he was thinking of someone special. Romily wasn’t going to intrude though. It was up to Arthur to tell her of his thoughts.

When he asked whether she would return home, she shook her head straight away. “I shall never go back there”. She’d made that promise to herself when she left. “My father does not care for me, he never has done anyway – im sure that after all that happened he wouldn’t allow me to set foot in that house again” Not that she would inherit Wolfhall anyway. That would go to some other relative that she’d most likely have never heard of. A cousin or something. Anything that she may have had down as to inherit in the will would’ve been stuck out from it by now. Her father hadn’t come looking for her, nor would he ever will. “Lord Durwin is not a man who forgives so easily”. She sighed.

Now he was pouting, “You are such a child!” she playfully slapped her hand across his arm. She could’ve gone for the chest area but knew he was wounded around there. Then came the announcement that she wouldn’t believe him if he needed to rest. Romily came to a stop and sat down, “Let us rest then – how is your wound? Hopefully not as bad as earlier” she enquired, “it wasn’t all that easy moving you into a suitable position where I could work on you”.

Now that sounded VERY wrong. “Where I could work on your wound, that is” she fidgeted uncomfortably.

And now cue the awkward silence. And it had all been going so well too.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur was rather glad to hear that; that his attempt at humor was having an affect on her to alleviate the tension in their predicament if nothing else. Today had certainly turned out to be an interesting day. To riding out of the city in the hopes to distract his mind from the recent events regarding the royal family of Lyonesse . . . to this, now. Meeting and stranger and starting to find a friend in her. "Well then you need to get out more," he joked. He meant for it to be an ironic statement for the purpose of her running away had been to 'get out more' and Arthur meant it as a both teasing and completely kidding remark. He knew he had slipped into a silent meditative state, but he could not help it. Not when her words brought to mind to many concerns and pressures that existed in his own life. They had a lot more in common than Arthur would have ever expected. Arthur couldn't help but wonder if her words were true, about her father not caring for her. He was not thinking it in a way that she would lie about such a thing. But more so in a way that perhaps her father could never express the love he has for his daughter.

Of course, this could be far too presumptuous of him for he did not know the situation and felt it far too intrusive of him to ask of the specific nature of her and her father's relationship. Which was why he was asking more general questions pertaining to it. She would give whatever answers she felt comfortable, and Arthur appreciated it and her willingness to open up to him, even if they did not know each other very well. Though, that seemed to be slowly changing. "Do you really think he would not welcome you back?" Again, it was curiosity that brought forth the question. He hoped she did not interpret it in such a way that made it sound like he was attempting to convince her to return. That was not what he meant at all. He just could not imagine such a father. He had felt so many times that his own father felt the same about him: that he believed his son to be a disappointment. But Uther was never good at saying how he felt, and the rare times he did . . . Arthur knew that he loved him, even if he could not always show it or speak of it. "I just can not imagine such a father who, from as you speak of him, cares so little for his daughter." He said these words regretfully. Her employer with horrible judgment was one thing; but a father as well? Her own family?

That was rather sad, and while Arthur wished not to dwell on it, he could not help but at least question it. Thankfully, there was a far more jovial conversation that followed, going back to lightening the mood. He made a face when she playfully hit him on the arm; not because it hurt, but because . . . well, just because! "You're hitting a wounded man!" He accused but once again, it a jesting way, not finding the slightest bit offense in it. Her next actions surprised him for she had actually stopped and almost immediately sat down. Good! She could get some rest in before they covered more ground for the remainder of their journey. He did not join her on the ground, but rather, casually leaned against a tree. "It will heal," he told her, not even bothering to look at it. It hurt of course, but he was not going to pay all too much attention to it when his primary concern was her. "Thanks to you," he added in a lower, but highly sincere voice. He could not thank her enough for her aid for by now, he would have most certainly died by the loss of blood, as he had fell unconscious shortly after the injury had been inflicted on him.

He was about to ask of hers, when she said something that made him slightly raise an eyebrow. Again, not because he was offended but because it sounded . . . well, not how she had intended it he was sure. And the fact that she realized that and slowly began to backtrack out of it, made it even funnier. Arthur stifled a laugh, holding it in. He could react in two ways: one, give her a hard time for her comments, as he had been casually teasing her earlier. This would just give him further opportunity to do so. Or second, he could channel his more gentlemanly side and avoid the ridiculing. Decisions decisions! Well, it really was not that difficult at all in the end. She had saved his life. And he knew what was more important to say right now. "I should apologize for that," he said with a bit of a smile, though his words were genuine. "I did not mean to cause you further inconvenience when you yourself were already impaired as well." Further inconvenience, aka, falling on her! Poor woman. Arthur was not sure how she had managed to maneuver him, but she had. "I can imagine it mustn't have been easy," he added, this time his smile turning into a bit more of a smirk as he let out a slight chuckle. He had apologized, so now, the light teasing commenced.

[Romily de Braose]

On Arthur’s comment, Romily gave him a mischievous glare. “At least now im away from my father I will”. Well, she had more freedom working for Eldon than she had done being a daughter of a Lord.

There was silence before Arthur asked whether she really thought that her father wouldn’t welcome her back. “If he were really that concerned for me, then he would’ve dragged me back to Carmelide before I’d even got out of there.” She told him, “Besides im not an heir to the estate – if I’d have been a boy then things would’ve been most certainly different. The only reason he treated me like he did was because he still grieves for my mother. My father was a very different man before she died…” Romily trailed off.
It pained her to speak of her mother so openly. At times she could handle it but sometimes she couldn’t. Like now.” There was only little that she remembered of her mother, but according to her father, Romily was every inch of who Jayne de Braose was – both in character and appearance.

"I just can not imagine such a father who, from as you speak of him, cares so little for his daughter." She was thankful when Arthur broke the silence.

“Clearly you haven’t met my father then” she gave a small wry smile

He made a joking fuss over the fact that she’d just hit him. Arthur seemed adamant that it would heal. “Glad to be of service” she nodded as he thanked her. “At least my embroidery skills have come to some use”

The came the dreaded subject of him falling on her. “You’ve no need to apologise. You were wounded and I just happened to be in the firing line” she laughed, “Anyway, im still alive, so I guess I have you to thank for that too”. At least before he fell on her he’d managed to get most of the job done.

"I can imagine it mustn't have been easy,"

She gave a small snort at this, “I’ve moved ale barrels that were lighter”. She said this in a good natured manner, not intending to offend the man who had saved her life twice that day.

[Arthur Pendragon]

That was true. Arthur imagined running away and knew that his own father would not rest until he was found. It seemed that Romily's father had not tried hard enough . . . judging from how she spoke about him. And he couldn't exactly dispute it for she obviously knew her father better. Besides, there had been something that compelled her to run away in the first place. Even if she was not heir, Arthur believed that whether a father had a son or daughter, they should protect their children. When Morgana had fallen under their care his father treated her as his own and now, neither Arthur nor Uther could imagine their lives with their adopted addition to the Pendragon family. "I suppose there is a fine line between disregard for a child and protectiveness towards them." Arthur was not a father -- nor did he plan to become one in the very near future. But eventually, he knew it would be nice to have children. And did not want to become a father who forced his daughter to run away which was why it was so difficult to imagine her father had done this.

While he believed her, it was still a bit of a disturbing thought. "My father was a very different man before she died . . . " He knew this all too well. His father was dramatically different before he lost his wife, Arthur's mother. "My father is the same," he admitted in a soft pensive voice. He had been told that the death of his mother had hardened his father . . . and he believed it. For he thought of what it would be like to lose Guinevère and as terrifying as the thought was, he knew he would forever be devastated, and change for the worse. "It is incredible how falling in love with someone can change you," he said, more so thinking aloud. He did not often reveal to many people that there was a woman he loved . . . or said words that suggested such a thing. But there was no harm in saying something along those general lines. After all, he doubted he would ever meet Romily again and he highly doubted that she would reveal to the word that a random man she met is in love with a woman. Besides, she did not know of his royal blood; only of his name.

He smiled when the subject turned to a lighter one, of him falling on her . . . which ironically, was not a light situation at all. "It seems that fortune met us both then. You encountered someone with a sword who could fend off the enemies, and I encountered someone who's an excellent seamstress as her embroidery skills saved my life." He was of course simplifying the entire situation, but it was a relief to see that they had moved past the awkwardness and she was laughing about it. It was easier to joke about when she was smiling and encouraging her own jokes and teasing. It seemed that they both enjoyed a more humorous approach to alleviate awkward moments and strong discomfort. He however made a face when she commented about how she had moved ale barrels that were lighter.

He took his weight sensitively . . . or well, grew mock offended whenever anyone commented on it. Except Merlin. He wasn't allowed to say anything about Arthur's weight. "I am not that heavy," he disputed in an immature protest. He knew she was just joking . . . but that didn't mean he wasn't going to return the favor and defend himself. Unfortunately this time, he couldn't even blame it on the armor for he had not been wearing any . . . or much of anything really. "It probably only felt more strained to move me because you too were wounded," he said, trying to make up excuses. He was just kidding of course. He knew that he would not have been easy to move . . . that regardless of whether she was wounded or not, she would still have had a bit of difficulty putting him in a position where . . . how had she phrased it? Where she could work on him easier?

[Romily de Braose]

They both seemed to know a great deal on the subject of parents and their natures. Arthur appeared to be in the same boat with his father. At least Romily could relate to how he felt about the matter.
“I gather that you too also lost your mother from an early age?” she asked. “How old were you?” she didn’t want to seem like she was prying. “Im sorry – that was inappropriate of me to ask” she quickly corrected herself.

"It is incredible how falling in love with someone can change you,"

Romily smiled at this. “I wouldn’t know…” she began and looked down at the ground, “I’ve never been in love – I never had the chance to experience anything like that”. It was true. With a father like Durwin she could be sure that no man would be allowed near her. Apart from Frederick of course, but she hadn’t been in love with him – so she thought anyway. She was hurt by him yes, but compared to what Arthur spoke of, and how it could change you made her realise that the attachment wasn’t that strong.

As Arthur spoke on their encounter and how it had turned out advantageous for both of them she laughed lightly. “Only just…I think you saved me more than I did you”. All she’d done was tend to his wound and shifted him from on top of her! How embarrassing.
She had appeared to hit a soft spot on the weight comment. “Im sorry – I’ve offended you” she smiled lightly, “Just be thankful that it is mostly muscle”. "It probably only felt more strained to move me because you too were wounded,"
True. She nodded. “It hurt – a lot! But I managed”

Time to change the subject; otherwise it would just become awkward again. “Is it much further?” she asked and got up. “I feel much better to walk now”.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur remained silent when she questioned how old he was when he lost his mother. He was not offended by the question, but the subject of his mother was always a difficult one to discuss. It had been something discouraged when he was young, his father even scolding him for bringing it up. It had become practically the forbidden subject . . . so Arthur knew nothing of her, other than the small things he heard from others. He had so many questions about her, and yet, he knew they would forever remain unanswered. But, Romily had offered information about her mother's passing -- something that he knew could not have been easy -- so he owed her the same. "No apology is necessary," he said, wanting that much to be known at least . . . that she had nothing to be sorry for. "I never knew her," he began to reveal. "She died when I was born." Giving birth to him. It was a guilt he would forever carry with him. It was not fair. Why was it that he had earned the right to live and she had not? He would exchange his life for hers in a heartbeat if it meant she could come back.

Arthur listened to her say that she did not know what it was to be in love. Neither had he . . . until a few months ago. It had come at the most unexpected of times, with an even more unexpected person. But he would not change anything about it . . . only that there was a sure way for them to be together. Only that he had not hurt her with his actions -- especially most recently. It was not something to feel sympathetic towards someone though who had not fallen in love. Only something that he knew made someone a better person . . . gave a person that sense of fulfillment, as they realize that they're missing that something in their lives, only when they have found it. "It tends to come when you least expect it," he said with a soft smile, his mind filled with thoughts of who had now claimed his heart. A woman he had known for almost his entire life . . . but never had seen in the light he had until recently. That whole love and first sight speak . . . was massively overrated.

Each time she laughed . . . well, it had a contagious effect or he just found himself smiling in her company and presence of light heartedly spoke comments, even if they were about both their near death experiences. "No, you did far more for me," he argued. "Besides, with falling on you and asking things that a stranger does not ask a stranger upon their first meeting." -- Meaning, the fact that he had asked her to take off her dress, and she'd trusted him enough to do so -- "I do believe I put you through far more." She had to endure a great deal more than he had, or he'd been unconscious half the time. Furthermore, unconscious on top of her! His smile remained in place when she apologized for offending her . . . though that was not what had made him smile. It was her following comment about it being more muscle than anything else. "Yes, exactly!" He stated. He had tried telling Merlin that so many times . . . that it was not fat on him, but rather muscle. But again, Merlin was a chicken bone so knew nothing about muscle. "That is all it is: muscle," he added with a proud and boastful grin.

He was definitely liking Romily. "Well however you managed, you did a remarkable job," he further praised, really wishing he could make it up to her somehow. But all he could do right now was thank her, and apologize for the massive inconvenience. When she asked how much further it was, he looked ahead of him, trying to determine the distance. "It's not too far from here," he assured her as he went over about to offer his hand to help her up but she seemed strong and able enough to do so on her own. "Are you sure?" He asked rather worriedly, eying her wound to see how it was staying sealed. He also knew they could not just sit here for hours and hours for it would be dark in a little while. And that would put them in a far more dangerous and vulnerable position. "If at any point you feel you need to take a rest, just stop me," he said, staying close to her as they began to walk . . . just in case she felt she needed support to help her walk. Then again, it could very well be the other way around and he could be the one who needed help judging from his own state . . . which was not much better than hers.

[Romily de Braose]

Obviously it was a delicate subject – one she hadn’t thought that he’d actually answer. When he revealed that his mother died when he was born, Romily felt saddened. She’d known her mother for only 3 years yet Arthur had never met his own. Never had any memories of her. Romily had very few memories, but she could still remember key things about her own mother.
“Im sorry to hear that” she replied, “It can’t have been easy growing up without her”. It hadn’t for Romily so for Arthur it must have been the same – and from the sounds of things, he had no stepmother. Either that or he did and just didn’t acknowledge her. She wondered whether his father spoke of his mother like Romily’s father did with hers. “Does your father ever speak of her?” she asked, “mine has a very split personality about the subject. When I was growing up he didn’t really tell me about her, then sometimes he’d say things like ‘oh you’re just like your mother, blah, blah, blah”.

Love. Yes – the one thing that she wasn’t an expert in. "It tends to come when you least expect it,".
Romily smiled to herself at this. “Well then…I guess I have some waiting to do”. With a job like hers she met all people from walks of life, but was restricted when it came down to getting to know them. She was constantly on the go so she hadn’t time for a man – should one ever come along and sweep her off of her feet.

She laughed a little more with his agreement that it was just muscle. It appeared that others might have joked about his weight before, as he sounded more relieved and in agreement. “Im sure I just saw your head get a little bigger” she looked to him and smirked, “I suppose I haven’t been the only one to comment about your weight then”, she stated, “well at least your in shape – working for the king seems to have that advantage on you” she couldn’t help but smirk a little more.

She was glad to hear that accommodation wasn’t that far away. “Of course im sure” she scoffed, “the only time you should be worried is if I faint, and I’ll make sure that it isn’t on you” she winked and started off towards the direction that they were headed.
“Come on then muscles! It would be wise if we made it to this place by nightfall!” she called back to him and set off.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur kept a faint smile on his lips when she offered condolences for his mother's passage. No matter how many years ago it was, it still felt fresh in his heart. It was strange . . . to never know her, and yet miss her presence, as if he knew what it felt like to have a mother in his life, when in actuality, he did not. He missed it, and had so many unanswered questions as to what she was like. "A mutual hardship between us," he commented when she said it could not have been easy to grow up without a mother. It could not have been easy for her either, and from the sounds of it, her relationship with her father didn't sound all too strong either. "Does your father ever speak of her?" Another question that Arthur instantly knew the answer to, yet found it difficult to reply. "No," he answered, trying to force away the emotion that filled him when he spoke of such things. "He tends to avoid the subject." No one spoke of Ygraine in front of his father. Even Arthur was too afraid to do so.

Arthur felt his smile grow ever so slightly when she began to speak of what her father said on the subject of her mother. "It must be nice, to know that you are like her in some ways. That you did not take entirely after your father." Though Arthur never met his mother, nor heard any stories about her, he held her in the highest regard and hoped . . . prayed that he inherited some of her traits, and he wasn't only his father's son. "How does he say you are like her?" He asked, wondering if that was too inquisitive of him. "I apologize," he added only seconds after his question was asked. "I understand if you do not wish to answer," he said with a reassuring smile. Even though they had passed several moments of awkwardness . . . he did not want to presume too much. The subject of mothers was a sensitive one for anyone who felt her lacking presence in their lives.

"Well then…I guess I have some waiting to do." Arthur knew that it was not something that one searched for; that it just came, in the most unexpected way. And that was what made it all the better. "And it will be worth the wait," he told her. Not finding that person in your life was not something that needed to be sympathized for. Waiting for it, made it worth it for when it did arrive. To be honest, Arthur had never expected to fall in love for he knew that his marriage in the future would have to be for political gain rather than desires of the heart. But that was all slowly starting to shift . . . for he found himself not wanting to marry a woman other than the one who claimed his heart. He just continued to smile proudly when she commented that his ego had inflated thanks to her compliment. "It most probably has. And you have no one to blame but yourself. Only for speaking what is true though," he said, with a cocky air. Ah yes. She was most certainly not the only person to comment on it. But he wasn't about to go into the fact that others -- mainly Merlin -- called him fat. Because, he was NOT fat!

"Well at least your in shape – working for the king seems to have that advantage on you." That was true. With training the knights, and traveling length distances, and hunting even . . . he got several forms of exercise throughout the years. But he didn't want to go into detail about that. He was enjoying the casualness of their conversation, and did not want to do anything to change that. People reacted to him being a prince in a variety of ways, and he just missed being able to hold a regular conversation with someone . . . void of titles and fear of saying things out of place. There were few who he could talk to in such a manner and they certainly weren't strangers to him. Romily was one that he just enjoyed talking to, and wanted to keep this same dynamic between them . . . for now anyway. "You are quite perceptive," he commented, still going along with that whole 'I'm arrogant' farce, which only became more obvious after his next words. "Of course, it is rather obvious, isn't it."

Arthur chuckled as the mental image of her falling on him entered his mind. It was of course wasn't an image meant to be perverted . . . just one that brought amusement to him, for it had been the opposite situation not too long ago. "I'm sure I could handle it. I have a bit more padding than you." Not only in terms of clothing -- and not fat -- but muscles! "Come on then muscles!" Yes Muscles! What a great nickname indeed! Better than the ones Merlin comes up with . . . like clotpole and dollaphead. Then again, if Merlin began to call him Muscles then . . . well . . . that would just be . . . weird . . . to say the least. "Very true," he said in agreement as he caught up to her. "At least we will be able to rest our heads somewhere more comfortably than a cave." And have a decent meal to fill the hole in his stomach.

[Romily de Braose]

It was a shame to know that Arthur nor his father spoke of his mother. It had been a comfort to Romily, growing up and having small mentions of her mother. Even if sometimes they were not the nicest of things to hear. It gave her an insight into what she had been like.
"How does he say you are like her?" Arthur had asked and then apologised. Romily just shook this off. It was refreshing to talk about a subject that they had in common. “In every way” she smiled, “he says im the image of her, but he also says that ive inherited her rebellious streak”. She then chuckled. “Look at me – speaking as though im actually of nobility.” Romily almost sounded disgusted at herself, and knew that her mother would most likely be spinning in her grave at her words.
“It is a shame” she started, “that you never speak of your mother – over the years my father has mentioned her less and less, I suppose from their point of view it is hard to come to terms with losing the one you love”

Back to the subject of love again. It seemed that Arthur knew a great deal of it. She felt a little unintelligible in this area and it was somewhat embarrassing, especially talking to a man about such matters. “Im sorry I called you fat” she smirked, “my father says I often speak when it is not desired”.

"I'm sure I could handle it. I have a bit more padding than you." Padding! Ha! He knew NOTHING of padding until he saw her wardrobe back at Wolfhall – and that was NEVER going to happen. “You know nothing of padding” she repeated the words that had swum in her mind, “believe it or not I have far more of that than you possess – well, maybe not at this moment” she looked down at her torn garments and the back to Arthur, “but back home I was sure that if I was laced into anything else then I wouldn’t be able to fit through the thresholds!”

They continued to walk. She agreed with Arthur that it would be nice to have a roof over their heads, rather than a cave. She didn’t care about eating anything, all she wanted was to wash herself down – in private, and fall into a nice comfortable bed.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur gave a small smile when she spoke of how she was like her mother in every way, including a rebellious streak. That seemed to make sense since a noblewoman would need to have a bit of rebellion in them if they were to runaway from home . . . and work in a tavern no less. "Well it must be nice to hear," he said upon the subject. More comfortable talking about her mother than his own. For his own was a subject much discourage while growing up. Almost like a taboo. In a way, it still was. "To know that you are like her. That she lives in you, in many ways." Arthur knew that his mother lived in him, for she was what gave him life. But no one spoke of whether he was like her or not. He liked to think the best of her. Believe that she would be proud of him; that she would have approved of his decisions . . . of Guinevère. Because that was something he knew his father would never understand nor approve of.

He gave a small nod at the logic of the situation. He knew that if he lost the person he loved above all others -- Guinevère -- then he would not be able to cope with such a loss. Not that he tended to be over dramatic, but he truly would not survive her loss. Even though they weren't married, and only silently in love . . . it still would be a tragedy that he would never recover from. So he could only imagine the difficulty his father was faced with when he lost his own love, and Arthur's mother. "That makes sense," he said in agreement. "It mustn't be easy. To have someone in your life and then be stripped of them." He was not going to get overly emotional nor overly sentimental -- for being such a way was not in his personality. So he kept his voice strong, and was relieved for a lighter conversation to follow. "I'm sorry I called you fat." He gave a sarcastic smile, only meant to tease her a bit.

"Your words are only undesired when they are not true," he said further teasing her. Meaning, he was not fat. He got enough of that from Merlin -- which he still did not believe in the slightest. Certainly not from the Chicken Bone Man. Arthur looked at her when she spoke of knowing nothing of padding. He knew the layers and padding some women wore . . . quite frankly, he could never understand how that was comfortable. But it was far too inappropriate to ask such things. "Very well. I will concede that you may be used to wearing more padding," he began to say. "But I am certainly used to carrying more weight." With his chainmail, various pieces of armor, and weapons. Which, meant that he would be able to handle a woman falling on him. Not that he was asking for such a thing. Certainly not! He was merely encouraging the light teasing air that had seemed to form between them. A welcome change from any tensions that had existed before.