Of Druids And Kings

[Vortigern]

-------The knight's remark suddenly caused the other Sorelian knights to abruptly stop laughing and enjoying the casual mockery that Vortigern had been instigating. For they knew, that such words should never be spoken to the prince. Vortigern's fuse was short, and with his father not surrounding him, his words were less guarded. Especially as they were only in the presence of Sorelian knights and this one rebel knight who decided to be a wise ass and criticize Vortigern. The prince of Sorelia looked at him. The knights doing the same. Only their looks were less of glares and more ones that depicted the awareness of the sudden tension that filled the air. The light chuckles had ceased, and now there was a fear of what the irrational prince would do next.

-------He looked at the overly outspoken knight, eying him from top to bottom with clear distaste in his expression. He did not know him. And he already hated him. Had they been in Sorelia, this man would have lost his head before he could finish his sentence. But they were in Camelot. Good ol' Camelot. Where it seemed that nothing was too bizarre to happen; and all sorts of obscurity was acceptable. Vortigern was angry. Beyond angry. His eyes slowly filling with rage, but knew he had to keep control of his actions. If this man pushed it however, then he was not above killing a knight of another kingdom. Besides, he had five witnesses who would condone whatever story Vortigern created. Whether it be one of self defense, or another creative reason that this knight of Gwent's head was detached from its neck.

-------At least there was one thing Vortigern would not deny, and that was his cruelty. He had built up such a reputation in Sorelia, and he would not undo it. "Cold blooded I may be. But I am worthy of my position. Deserving and entitled." Those beneath him, were not. Perhaps it would do good to remind this knight of his place. "Far more than you, evidently." He did not say that because he knew the truth about Alistair; he said that because the knight spoke too freely in the presence of royalty. "An insignificant speck such as yourself should know his place, and realize that the man he speaks to is far above his station." And thus, can crush him. "But since you seem so set on defending non noble knights, let me ask you this. Should the same go for women?" Unsure if it was actually true, there were rumors going around about a servant who may be Camelot's queen.

-------Now that, was just wrong on so many levels. Vortigern refused to marry a woman who was lower than the status of princess. And here, it was being suggested that the future king may marry a commoner. "Imagine, a woman who is not even of nobility, would one day rule the kingdom. Is that something you believe someone can earn? To be worth nothing and then suddenly be worth something far greater than they can ever be?" Vortigern didn't actually care about Alistair's response. He was just throwing words out there. "No one can make that transition from unimportant, to important. Especially not a commoner." That was his conclusion; that regardless of what a person did, their blood determined it all. If they were born into a wealthy family, they were worth something. If they were not, then they were completely disposable.

[Alistair]

Alistair stared at the noble unblinking. He did not know enough to recognized very seal of every kingdom so he was not sure who they were nobles from. Yet he could tell groups when he saw them; and knew these men were from the same place. Someplace not here.

He knew whom he spoke of; the maid who looked to become queen if the annoying gossips could be believed. Alistair didn't know (not care to know) if the boy king would made the servant his bride; but the words struck home. Because he would be the one this man spoke of; the unworthy one. Alistair walked closer to him; his steps slow and measured but other wise he was very still.

Once he was face to face with the arrogant noble he spoke; "You should remind yourself that with these people you hate you'd have no rank to hold over them." He spoke in a low voice, tight with anger but not heated. "I would have more respect for the servant girl then for a little boy who'd not yet learn to mind his manners."

Then he'd did something that he'd saw Vaughn do once when trying to start a fight; since he did not like to fight with words. In a swift move he reached his hand up and knocked over the cup of wine the man held so it spilled all over his noble clothing. "Oops." He said just like Vaughn had said; only the bastard had laughed and Alistair held a more 'that wasn't an ascendent' tone.

[Arthur Pendragon]

From the moment the conversation had started, Arthur knew it would not end well. With Alistair's one phrase responses, they did nothing but provoke Vortigern. But it was strange. Vortigern's words obviously offended Arthur. Not because he was criticizing his decisions, but because he was insulting the men that were more honorable that Vortigern would ever know. For men like him would not understand the natural honor in a man; men like him believed it could only be through the blood. He was a bit surprised but Alistair's reaction to his words . . . but supposed it made sense in a way. For he was defending his own standing, without the prince of Sorelia being aware of who he was talking to. Of just how ironic his words were. It was not until Vortigern spoke of Guinevère, that Arthur felt himself grow angrier. He wanted to step in, yet knew that if he did, it would only result in conflict and the last thing he wanted to do at his coronation was throw down his glove, or pick one up.

It seemed that Arthur would have to do neither. For Alistair spoke, once again defending him. It was another unexpected reaction from Alistair. In Arthur's experience of brief interactions with him, the druid just tended to stare and hold his tongue. Speaking only when he felt the need. In this case, he could have easily walked away, ignoring the words of the Sorelian royal for they were not being spoken in reference to Alistair, even though he of all people could understand . . . for he was in a similar situation . But Alistair had spoken against them, defending himself, and in a way . . . defending Guinevère. Stating he would have more respect for her, than for a prince by birth. Arthur just watched silently, not having realized Alistair would have ever said such words. They may not be said as personal favor to Arthur, but that did not mean that the Pendragon was totally unappreciative of them. In fact it made him appreciate them more.

It was not until Alistair 'accidentally' spilled the wine that Arthur knew he could not just stand here. Even though the gesture made Arthur smirk in amusement, he had to intervene . . . on Alistair's behalf. Something that he never thought he'd ever do, but in this moment, just after a few words, he had seen another side of the druid. A strange, unexpected side . . . but one that compelled Arthur to defend him, as he had defended his beliefs. Beliefs that both Alistair and Arthur apparently shared. He saw the rage in Vortigern when he spilled the drink, and the fact that he had five knights around him did not help Alistair's chances. "Gentlemen," Arthur suddenly greeted, making his way down the stairs. His steps were not hurried, but his presence created enough of a distraction to momentarily pause any potential violence that would be created from the spillage of wine. And the clear reaction from Alistair that made it look intentional.

Though Alistair was very close to Vortigern, Arthur placed himself right next to the druid. Now, it was less of a circle and it was more aligned: Vortigern with his men standing on one side, and Alistair and Arthur standing on the other. Furthermore, Arthur put his hand on Alistair's shoulder, a gesture meant to indicate for him to take a step back from Vortigern. A casual step back. But also, in a strange way, implied that he was on his side. That he would side with the druid over the a visiting royal. Because he respected the words that Alistair had to say. Arthur made sure his actions and words were spoken with such casualness, as a way to diffuse the tense air. He looked forward at Vortigern, his eyes trailing to the red wine stain on his shirt. "It seems like you've had a bit of an accident there Sir Vortigern," he said, in almost a teasing way. It was teasing because he knew how it got there, but it was more like he was exempting Alistair of the blame for it. Plus, Vortigern's reaction had shown the man's vanity.

Which made it a bit more amusing. "You may want to get that cleaned off before the ceremony commences," he told him. Again, in that same tone, that clearly only made Vortigern more upset. For Arthur was not placing any blame on the druid. And the fact that this was his kingdom, meant that his word went. That Vortigern would not be able to say nor do anything about it. That was what Arthur had wanted him to realize with his sudden presence. That should he decide to charge at Alistair, Arthur would be standing next to him to defend him. There were a moment of silence, where Vortigern's eyes shifted back and forth between Alistair and Arthur . . . as if he was waiting for Arthur to do something about this. But he would not. And after those moments of expected silence, Arthur just gave him a slightly curious expression, silently questioning what he was waiting for. Finally, Vortigern gave up. He angrily turned away and stormed off, his knights hurriedly following behind.

[Alistair]

The bloody prince had followed him? Alistair had not looked away from the name who's name he did not know; nor card to ask for it. While looking at him he was taking notice of them on his sides and how they moved. His hands resting down and by his own weapons; ready to let this take the next step. He knew there would be hell to pay for it later but he could not walk away for reasons he he could not explain in his mind.

When the prince turned king walked down the steps and over to them; he was surprised but let nothing show on his face. It was not until Arthur's hand reached up to rest on his shoulder; Alistair turned his head to look down at it but did not take the hint to back off. He did not know what his hand was there; and it left him wondering what the purpose was for.

When the idiot Vortiagain or whatever; walked away with out a word, Alistair turned to look at the prince; ready to start their fighting over again or whatever he said next. He did not speak first as he was not sure the prince's meaning behind his actions. Alistair had known he was out numbered and the prince who hated him had come to his aid. Why? "Why?" He asked; wanting to know.

[Arthur Pendragon]

One word could hold so much meaning; so many answers. Arthur was not sure what he was specifically asking, but either way, he felt the need to answer to the best of his abilities. He lowered his hand from Alistair's shoulder, not having kept it there as an affectionate action. As the moment of needing to indicate for him to back down was gone, there was no need to keep his hand in place there. Arthur was still unsure how to answer his question. He was not good at talking about his feelings and such, but perhaps with this he should just use honesty. But how was he to vocalize what compelled him to defend Alistair? "I should be asking you the same thing," Arthur said, turning around the question. His question of why, was questioning Alistair's reason for saying what he did. For defending something when he could have walked away. Defending Guinevère of all people. He did not do it because he personally knew her; he did it because of the idea of a commoner marrying a noble.

Would Alistair answer his question? Or would he walk away again? This was something Arthur did not know . . . but his curiosity was enough to want to keep him here and hear an explanation. Not demand one; but hear one. "I respected your words," Arthur said. He may not fully respect the man, he may still not trust him. But that was the best answer he could give him: he respected the words he had to say. That had been the fundamental reason. It was not because he had a personal dislike for Vortigern, and the enemy of his enemy was his friend. It was what Alistair said directly to him. And Arthur would not regret defending a man who spoke such a thing.

[Alistair]

"They weren't said for you." He told the prince not wanting the man to think he was suddenly approving of the Pendragon line. He hated the father and his history. "Who was that man?" He asked not knowing the full name of his newest target for his ire.

There was something a bit more casual between them at the moment' and Alistair did not expect it to last. For the moment they were staring down at each other and trying to plot to bring the other down or dance around the the knowledge they were not friends but foes who had to pretend. "I met her once." He refereed to Gwen; and his kidnapping of her. "I do not like men who will seek to harm those who will not defend themselves." Be it Uther's attacks on druids or this ass's attack on the meek servant girl. Still; he had spoken up because the man had insulted him; by in turn insulting the girl.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"They weren't said for you." That much Arthur knew. Alistair had not known that Arthur had been listening, and that was what made him appreciate them even more. Even though he still did not like the man himself. There was still a lot he did not understand about him in terms of his motives and reasons for what he did. Maybe they would reach some sort of mutual understanding, or maybe they would not. Either way Arthur doubted worse would come from their conversation. "Who was that man?" No harm in giving the name, for he could ask anyone and they would know . . . if he asked the right people. "Prince Vortigern of Sorelia," Arthur answered simply. He did not bother to go into the details of what he was like, and what he was rumored to be.

Maybe he would have said something else along somewhat similar lines, but Alistair's next words immediately shifted the subject . . .to one that Arthur was more uncomfortable about. Alistair did not have to specify the name in order for Arthur to know who he talking about: Guinevère. He remained silent following his words, not wanting to speak about her to Alistair. It was already difficult to talk about Guinevère with anyone, for some things were just so important to him, some emotions so deep, that he could not talk about them. She was one of those things; the person he cared more for above anyone else. "I do not like men who will seek to harm those who will not defend themselves." Arthur obviously had cared more about Guinevère's kidnapping than Isadora's. He said it because he did not believe Alistair's words.

It was true that they had not kept Guinevère for long, but it was because they believed her to not be of any monetary value. How could he say that he did not like men who harmed those who could not defend themselves? What about emotional harm? What about what happened to the princess of Gwent? "And what about your kidnapping of Princess Isadora?" He questioned, knowing that some harm had been inflicted in her. Nothing life threatening, but did he care nothing about the emotional turmoil he put her through, and what he put Guinevère through? His father had been the one who'd been harmed, but this far after hearing Alistair's claim to dislike certain men who harmed those could not defend themselves . . . in Arthur''s mind, the druid was a hypocrite.

[Alistair]

"Prince Vortigern of Sorelia," so that was the name of his newest foe. Alistair turned his head to look at the way the man had hurried off too but did not say anything in return. He was thinking about how best to handle the man; since he did not seem the type to just let an insult pass. He knew that he would be watching his back for the rest of the trip. Perhaps longer if the man became king one day.

"And what about your kidnapping of Princess Isadora?" He turned back to the young prince and watched him after he spoke. Alistair did not have many close friends nor people who knew the truth of him. So when the prince questioned his actions it was a first. Alistair stared at him for a long time; at first not going to answer but decided at the last moment to do so.

This was her friend; and she seemed to have faith in him rather then his father. If this king could change things; then he owed it to his people to explain why he'd made an enemy of him. "I was born with the gifts of my mother; who was murdered by your father for doing nothing against him. Who would see me and my woman burned, hanged or beheaded for nothing but living." He did his best to keep the bitter anger out of his tone; but did not care enough to know if he succeeded. "Many sons can make my claim. Hear tale, you know the loss of a mother. What if you watched her die? Heard her screams?"

"How far would you go to protect another son? A daughter, a husband?" Alistair never said this much; but once he started he wanted the man to understand. Isadora's 'friend' she called him. Said he was not the man he father was. He did not have faith in the men but he trusted her.

"I bare the scars to prove I would let no harm happen to the princess nor the servant girl." He'd been stabbed in the back for the princess when she poisoned him and ran away. The servant girl had been returned to the city a few hours after she was taken; with nothing but a few minor buries. He was not the villain he had wanted Camelot to believe him to be. He could be that man; but he had not wanted to enrage the beast-just provoke it. Get the bastard Pendragon's attention for the message he wanted to send.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur knew this whole blame game. Everyone blamed his father for what had happened; for whom they had lost. But did no one acknowledge how many people died because of magic? Because of its power? No. Everyone needed a scapegoat and it all rested on his father. Arthur had given magic a chance. First with Morgause when she had offered information about his mother. That had been nothing but a cruel trick. And now, he had tried with his father. But once again . . . it failed. And the price of learning such a lesson was far too high. People could speak of such things, but Arthur was witness to them. Even Morgana, a woman so bitter for views against magic,had the opportunity to show everyone that magic was not evil. But she instead, released fire on innocent civilians.

Arthur stiffened. He did not owe this druid any sort of explanation, but he would start to give one. So that he perhaps would understand Arthur's reasons. For where Alistair lost a mother because she was of magic, Arthur lost a mother because of magic. He knew the pain of such a loss, and now . . . he suffered through the pain and guilt of losing his father. He had given magic a chance and it had betrayed him. He never appeased anyone mentioning his mother, even in an attempt to put himself in another perspective. But right now, he would speak of something related to her. Because Arthur did not hate magic without just cause. "I lost both my parents to magic." His voice was serious, detached from any emotion, though inside . . . he felt his heart ache at such a reminder. One being more recent than the other, but the pain of both would forever exist.

Alistair spoke of sons who lost their mothers because of the war against magic . . . but this went both ways. "And how many sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, were killed at the hands of magic." Arthur knew how many. He saw how many. So many innocent people had been murdered at the hands of magic. Any attack against the kingdom due to magic, stole dozens of lives. Yet no one seemed to realize that. There were two sides to every story, but with recent events . . . it was getting more and more difficult, nearly impossible, for Arthur to see the good in magic. For when had it ever truly been used for good? When the subject of Isadora and Guinevère re-arose, Arthur noticed that he had not gotten the answer he sought. He was asking why Alistair had done it. Though, he knew why. Isadora had explained to him why.

It was not because he loved her at the time, but because of a wound to pride and a chance to make coin."You speak of scars you bare protecting her. But tell me, why was it you kidnapped either of them to begin with." He doubted it had anything to do with his hope to show her his world. For why the coin? Why demand ransom? The princess of Gwent had explained it all to Arthur, but he waited to hear what the druid said in regards to it. He was now king, and if he was to maintain his alliance with Gwent, he knew he would have to make an effort to be on civil terms with Alistair. Even though Arthur's views on magic had hardened exceptionally, and he doubted he would see the good and benefits in it any time soon. He would only hunt those who threatened his kingdom, and the list of such threats grew remarkably and he knew, would continue to do so.

[Alistair]

"I lost both my parents to magic." Alistair had not known that' but it changed nothing. "And I both mine by royalty." Alistair blame was not a river, that it could not flow just one way. Still; innocents were dying and no one cared enough to stop it. Isadora claimed his man would be different; but Alistair had yet to see it. He trusted her enough to let her trust still his actions.

"And how many mothers and fathers were killed at the hands of magic." "Many." He countered in a tone that almost did not care for the loss he spoke of. "They have your protection. The same protection you with hold from Druids, and others. The people who need it as well; hell if not more." He's said this same thing to Isadora before. Alistair did not talk often but a few topics caused him to refrain from being silent. He could not hold his tongue while people died; and he could help them.


"Why was it you kidnapped either of them to begin with." "She was close to you." Alistair had not even learned her name before taking her; "And I wanted the kingdom's embarrassment and attention." Both of which he had earned; and used the best way he knew how. "The servant was a mistake and we sent her back. How would you have done it? Protected your people?"

[Arthur Pendragon]

They could be throwing blame back and forth. He had already told him that he lost his parents to royalty. He felt that this entitled him to be bitter and vengeful; that it justified his revenge. Yet he refused to even remotely see it from Arthur's perspective. That it seemed only those of magic were entitled to claim revenge, when those without should simply appease them. No one considered the losses because of magic; only the losses because of laws against magic. It made Arthur angry, that the druid Isadora vouched for so much, was so uncaring. That he was not willing to see it from any other point of view. He could not reason with such a man. For Arthur found him to be unjustified. "It is not only those with magic who's lives are valuable." Arthur wanted to make that very clear. That those who were not of magic, who had been killed by magic . . . should not be disregarded. If he was blaming his father for the same thing, how was Alistair any better for being so discriminating? "I have withheld nothing from people who seek my help." Arthur's mind went to Mordred.

He had never told anyone of that; but he was king now, and he knew that the crime had been long forgotten. If the man was going to start accusing him of everything, then perhaps she should be better informed. "You make us target you. You make yourself out to be the villain that must be hunted." Rather than the, apparently, 'justice seeking' man. Arthur held much guilt for many things, but he would defend himself in certain aspects. "I helped a druid boy, sentenced to be executed, escape from the dungeons in this very castle." He did not say this to boast or brag about his deeds, but rather, to show Alistair that he did not condemn everyone that he thought he did. That he was not blind and foolish. That he broke the laws within his own kingdom to help an innocent boy. That he would only judge those who's deeds were criminal: much like Alistair's himself. "I am no fool. I know that the druids are a peaceful people. But you are slowly destroying that reputation." Arthur did not hunt down druids and kill them all. But he could not ignore what ones like Alistair was doing. He seemed to go against the norm of a druid's typical reputation: secretive and peaceful.

The subject came to Isadora and Arthur was not the least bit surprised by Alistair's admittance. He was surprised that he had answered him. "And you feel that those actions held honor?" Didn't he just say that he didn't target defenseless people? What was Isadora; a combatant in disguise? "You claim not to target those who are defenseless, yet kidnapped her because you wished for one man's embarrassment." He was a hypocrite. And Arthur was not liking him at all. He refused to see things from another perspective, and accused him of not protecting his people. It was a wonder that he was still standing here and speaking with Alistair, when it would not be difficult to find another way to occupy his time. "There is no honor in that. Nor any justification." It was about his intentions. He could go on and on about all he did to help Isadora, but truth be told, he would have acted far more harshly had he not fallen in love with her.

[Alistair]

"I have withheld nothing from people who seek my help." Because the druids were too afraid to seek help from him! He could pretend he was protecting them all he blood well wanted but the truth was he was still living in his father's rule! druids feared him! "I helped a druid boy, sentenced to be executed, escape from the dungeons in this very castle." That stopped his words of planning to tell the boy his thoughts. He'd helped a Druid boy?Why? What was offered to him?

"I am no fool. I know that the druids are a peaceful people. But you are slowly destroying that reputation." Alistair knew that he'd not lived up to the Druid rules and beliefs. He often wondered how disapproving his mother would be. "So I should have watched them die?" He countered, "Every coin I earned went to feed them and help them escape this kingdom; that would have sought them out to have them killed. A kingdom they did not wish to leave because of some damn prophecy they thought was coming."

Then he went on to question his kidnapping of the woman. "And you feel that those actions held honor?" "I was not seeking honor." "You claim not to target those who are defenseless, yet kidnapped her because you wished for one man's embarrassment." "I claim not to hurt the ones defenseless." He corrected, "And no harm came to either women. I made sure they were unharmed; and taken care of. The princess has no regrets from my actions-" Non that he knew of "-and the maid . . . " This was going to hurt to say; and he knew that. "I will apologize for my actions to her; but not the other two." He'd not apologize for his princess for he would not be sorry he'd taken her.

"There is no honor in that. Nor any justification." "Just because you can not see the means to the end do not think there was no justification." He plan and worked how he planned for it to work. "You say you would protect them--prove it." He demand, "Prove you are not man the who sired you." An idea formed in his head; and he knew it was a stupid one even as he was suggesting it. "Steal your servant's clothing for a night; let me take you see how the live. How they fear the name of you."

Alistair hated talking; and hated being this open to someone whom he wasn't even sure he trusted or liked. Yet he had to make the offer if it would help his people. If they went there as to travelers; and the king saw the people in need he could better understand the name his father built. Alistair wasn't a fool to think that it would change things over night; for the Druids were untrusting and afraid and it would take YEARS to repair that even a little. Yet it would show the young prince the people. "I would swear on my princess' life that I would make sure you returned and this was no trap."