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-------It seemed that they were just going to continue to disagree, just as they did on every single subject their conversation consisted of. Her rightful home and loyalty was no exception. "You do not know the first thing about what is proper," he mumbled and left it at that. His head was already still throbbing from the injury and all this talk was just making it far worse. When she described herself as beautiful, he said nothing. His silence was not an agreement, nor was it a disagreement. He was a man after all and her beauty was not something that he needed to dispute. However, if she kept this up then he would start targeting her physicality rather than just her personality. Though whatever insult he gave that would suggest she was less than beautiful, would indeed be a lie. Of course, she did not need to know this. His thoughts were not concocted from the kindness of his heart; it was mere fact.

-------What would he have her speak of? He did not even need to answer this question for she provided an answer for herself. Nothing; exactly; nothing at all! "Then why don't you try that and speak of nothing!" He said irritably. How more peaceful this walk would be if she was not gibbering away about nonsensical things. He did not care if she didn't want to get to know him. Unfortunately, he had inevitably gotten to know her far more than he would have ever wanted. "I would have found my way back, with or without your instruction!" And he had to believe that, for a man filled with pride did not often rely on directions from another; especially not from a woman.

-------He wasn't sure why he expected her to actually listen to him, for once. But her clear defiance only made him madder. Was there a limit to his rage? Apparently not for she just kept increasing his level of it. At some point, he was going to explode. When they entered, he paused, taking notice of their surroundings. It was dreadful! The only benefit of this was that it held warmth that he already felt consuming him, and a roof that prevented the rain from falling on him. That was it. Everything else was horrible. It was dingy. Small. Clearly a place where the lower class people stayed. He was far above this; so much better than where the path had now led him to! He never entered such places seeking refuge in Sorelia. When he came into such buildings back home, it was often to carry out a punishment or threat. Or just to see the terrified look on people's faces at his presence. But here, the gazes that rested on the soaking wet pair was slight confusion and then lack of care. They should be bowing their heads!

-------And as if it was not worse enough, he heard that nagging voice once more, saying that she would not have waited outside for anyone. He slightly turned his head, his eyes still looking at the pitiful crowd in the inn. "Stop talking!" He demanded in a harsh whisper. Now that they were here, he needed to enact the second part of their plan: distance himself from her as much as possible. He too went to the bar, finding not only the insides of this place atrocious, but also the service. He opened a couple of the buttons, allowing his shirt underneath to start drying. He would have to wear the same clothing tomorrow too. Disgusting! A voice told him that they would be with them shortly. He let out an annoyed sigh of impatience. Caitrin was talking again! "What did I say about talking?" He asked, irritated. And just in case there was any confusion...he answered his own question. "Don't."

-------Just as these words were spoken a round, peasantly looking woman came into view. This was what Vortigern would have to deal with? A woman who was not even bowing down to him? While he knew he was the authority here, he did not trust anyone in this inn. If they found out he was a prince...well, it would damage his reputation if word were to get out that he spent the night at a commoner's inn. How humiliating! "Now, what can I do for ye two?" Her voice was overly friendly. Vortigern couldn't stand it. Because everyone was so beneath him, he did not even want to speak to him. He should not even be sharing the same air as them! But he'll be damned if he trusted Caitrin to handle this. "I require room for the night." He spoke only for himself. Caitrin could make her own arrangements when he was done. To show that he was not just randomly asking, he reached into his pocket and placed a few coins on the table. He did not have much right now. To think; a prince of a great kingdom barley had a few coins. Yes; how utterly humiliating this was!

-------Whether she saw herself as one or not, it did not make it so. And clearly, her perception was skewed "And how lucky the Pendragons are," he said sarcastically. "To have a subject who's loyalty is so fickle." To leave the loyalty of the king who's kingdom she had grown up in, or for however long she had spent her life there for, to another kingdom who's sovereign automatically gained her loyalty. Strange. He knew there must be a story there but again, asking would make it seem like he cared. Her open ended question of what else he would describe her as left far too many answers. He doubted he could sum up the anger she had him feel. He tried to think back on what his mental list had been. "Overly talkative. Stubborn. Rude. Naive. Weak. Unintelligent." Oh wow, this was fun! "Insufferable. Oblivious. Infuriating." He paused there, knowing it could go on for hours. "And before you even attempt to say anything, do not return the favor." Meaning, he did not want her to start listing off his own qualities. For he knew that she would have many words to offer as well.

-------Now she was telling him that he should not treat his subjects like this? Who the hell was she to say such a thing! "You know nothing of how to rule. Do not speak of things that surpass your mental capacity." Which meant that she should not speak of anything at all. Why was he eve bothering having a conversation with someone so inferior to him? It was not worth the effort, and it was only making him more angry. An enraged expression filled his features when she called him arrogant and rude. He knew that something was terribly wrong when he was growing used to these insults from her. This was not good at all! He should not be accustomed to being spoken in this way. He had no words to offer, only a look of outrage. When she spoke of 'over dramatic reasons' he just subtly shook his head. "If you believe that, then you do not know me at all." Because he would kill anyone and anything that so much as looked to him the wrong way.

-------He inwardly cringed when she went on with her, playfulness. He could not stand it. "The only way I would be lucky, is if those bandits returned and this time, took you with them." But he would be without a guide. However, if they were starting to make their way towards a village that was becoming clearer in the near distance, then perhaps he would not need her after all. He could just gain direction from them. That was indeed a possibility! He could leave in the morning without her and journey back to the city, in peace and quiet. Be thankful to each other? Never! She should be thankful to him! He owed her nothing, not even gratitude. "Stop presuming so much. I owe you no gratitude. You fulfilled your duty as a noble to a royal by telling me which direction to go in. It was your obligation, not a favor that merits appreciation." What he did for her...no. He would never speak of it. He would not let his anger get the better of him again.

-------As the rain fell heavier and the wind picked up, he closed a few of the buttons on his black vest he wore over top his white blouse. It was not much for warmth, but the leather was thick enough to at least provide him with some. Only one inn?! Bloody hell! He would have to be in the same building as her after all. It would be more difficult to leave her in the morning. Difficult, but surely not impossible. "I will be staying there," he confirmed. Him, not they. "You still are not permitted to be in my company however." Yes that's right; he was forbidding it! Thank god the inn was not further and that they have arrived for the rain positively drenched him! "Stay a few paces behind me. And wait several moments before following me inside." Because nobles were expected to trail behind royalty and just because they may not look like nobles or royalty, did not mean they should not act it. And with those words, creaked open the door and wandered into their only option for shelter.

-------He was tired of talking. And yet, he could not just let her get away with all she said. Had they been anywhere else, it would have been far easier to escape her company. But here, he was trapped. Thanks to her, he was getting a glimpse of what hell was like. "I am saying that you will never be a true noblewoman of Camelot." Blunt; to the point; blatantly stated. "You will always be a Mercian noblewoman, and to say otherwise is nothing but falsity." You could not escape the ties that your blood bound you to. He was not even sure why he was having this debate. Because he was right and he did not like other people believing otherwise. Yes. That was his reason. "You are many things. A liar is just one among them." None of the words he had for her were flattering. Irritating. Unbearable. Insufferable. Over talkative. Stubborn. Indeed; so many words.

-------"You should show respect to those who are entitled to it. It is not at your liberty to decide who is worthy and who is not worthy of respect." She did not possess that freedom. It was not the way that the world worked. To believe otherwise was just naive. Ah! Naive! Another word to use to describe her. Look forward to his company? "It will not happen any time soon." It was a bit of an assurance, since his visit to her family's estate would not be a pleasant one. "It will take me years to recover from being in your company for this long." He added in a mumbled voice. After this, he never wanted to see her again...at least not for many, many years. And certainly not under such circumstances.

-------What was he capable of. An intriguing question. "You have no idea," he said in a cold and deadly serious voice. If only she knew. She would not have an ounce of 'boldness' that she now displayed. But of course, there was far too much to say to answer it in mere words. He did not even have a weapon on him to make a point. Damn bandits had taken his sword! "If we had been in Sorelia, I would have run you through the moment you defied me." Meaning, the second they had met; the moment she had denied him his command. Oh god. Was she, making suggestive remarks once more? As if she had not managed to provoke him enough! Now she was speaking to him again in this manner? "I doubt you are capable of anything apart from talking too much." And riving a man to madness, but he would not give her too much credit.

-------Her reminder that he would be lost without her...now that just made him raging mad. He did not like anyone telling him that he was incompetent without them. Though she had not used that word, it was implied. There was that assumed insinuation. And he snapped. He abruptly stopped walking, and spun around so that he looked directly at her as he raised his voice saying his next few words. "And you would do well to remember that if it were not for me, you'd be on the ground, stripped of your clothing, or even dead!" His words were shouted with anger, as his expression was filled with it as well. He had not meant to say these words. He had dismissed the fact that he had happened to 'help' her. He did not want to bring attention to that and yet, she had pushed him over the edge. Realizing his words, though not outwardly reaction by his regret in saying them, he just glared at her angrily for a few more moments before turning once more and continuing to walk.

-------The rain slowly began to fall, one drop at a time. But with another roar of thunder, it would not be long until the rain heavily started falling on them. As if he did not look disheveled enough! When she spoke of a village up ahead, Vortigern hated to think that he'd be forced to stay at some inn for the night. But, there was not alternative. It was his only choice at this point. It would be difficult enough to travel in the dark, but to travel in the rain would make it all the more difficult. He could grow ill! And he would not subject himself to that kind of risk. He felt the rain begin to steadily fall, slowly dampening his shirt and hair. "We will do nothing. If there is a village up ahead, you are to find another building from the one I seek shelter in. You will not be in my presence there. Not until morning." He was going to make that very clear right now.

-------Vortigern listened to Durwin briefly explain the circumstances of his wife's death, as they had lost a son too. Vortigern was not the overly sympathetic type. He did not display his condolences for such things. What did he care. They were just a small little noble family of no consequence to him. He spoke, only to further insult his daughter, who displayed no personality traits of a real noblewoman. Had he not known better, he would have thought her to be a peasant that he picked up off the streets and raised as his own. She certainly spoke like an uneducated being. "Shame. A son would have certainly honored your family name. Unlike your daughter who tarnishes it." Yes; he was letting Durwin know that his name was getting tarnished. But again, they were of little relevance to him.

-------It also seemed that his outrageously spoken daughter learned nothing. If they were back in Soleria, she would not have so much as dared smirk at him. For his reputation there was great. Sinister; sadistic; cruel; all resulting in the appropriate adjective, of great. He just scoffed at her insult. Vortigern was vain enough to believe that any woman would be lucky if he so much paid them the privilege of a glance. "Blind? No," he stated with a small smirk, and a mocking smile. "Deaf? Perhaps." He was not delusional; he knew his words were ones of insult. Ones that people did not appreciate. Yet, in Soleria, they could do nothing about it. For he was the prince, and they were all his servants, expected to do whatever he so commanded of them.

-------When she told him that Durwin's 'true character' would not please him. Vortigern cared little. He was already displeased with this entire arrangement. He doubted it could get any worse. The sooner tomorrow came, the sooner he could leave and return to the king's castle. Or even home. "Coming from you, I hardly consider that a warning." Why was she warning him? Clearly there was tension between father and daughter. Tension that he did not even care enough to get involved in. He would not be caught in the middle of their irrelevant little family feud. And to place him in the middle of it, was greatly disrespectful and completely unacceptable. When she walked away from him, he obviously did not follow. What he was assured of was that this was going to be an extremely long evening. At least dinner was something to look forward to, for food always helped the time pass by.

-------To say that Vortigern did not want to do this, would be a massive understatement. This was one of the worst things his father had ever made him do. No. It could be worse: Amalric could have a sister and his father would have sent him with not only hopes to make peace, but also a possibly marital arrangement. Dear god, that would have been horrible. Vortigern truly did not understand the purpose of this. There had been building tension, skirmishes, hell they were at war practically! And his father wanted to achieve peace? It was repulsive. War was what strengthened kingdoms and Vortigern's arrogance permitted him to believe that he could easily defeat Amalric and claim his pathetic kingdom for his own. It was only pathetic because Vortigern did not like the man. He had heard that King Amalric and a gryffin fetish. Disturbing. Very, very disturbing.

-------Ordinarily Vortigern did not wear his armor whilst traveling. He wore expensive attire, meant to show off the wealth he possessed upon first meeting whoever it was that his journey was meant for. But this time, he was fully clad in it. He wore his chainmail and other pieces of darkly colored armor to cover it. His black cape draped to one side over his arm. The journey was one greatly dreaded but every step towards the castle, he hoped for an attack. Something. Anything! That would make him quickly turn around and declare to his father that Amalric had tried to kill him. Of course Vortigern had already presented this possibility to his father. But Gildas had thought otherwise. "He could have me assassinated father. Do you really believe that the man wants peace?" That had been Vortigern's attempt to dissuade his father from going through with these, 'negotiations'. "Nonsense son. King Amalric would not dare attack you when we go with a truce, however temporary it may be. To betray it would be unthinkable." His father had far too much faith in people; a weakness.

-------"Do you really believe that this man thinks father?! We should be going there with an official declaration of war. Not with our tail between our legs to ask for peace!" But all of Vortigern's arguments were made to no success. His father was making him go. And here he was. This would be a dreadful experience. He did not know what Amalric's plan was; what was he playing at? With Vortigern, his hands were tied for he was doing the bidding of his king. But Amalric was king. So then what? What did he hope to achieve from this? Surely not peace. Not after all that had happened between Soleria and Landgraben. He rode through the courtyard, pulling his horse to a halt and swiftly dismounted. He of course, expected his men to do the same. He had traveled with a large group of knights. He did not trust Amalric, and yet he hated to admit that no attack had happened...thus far. Shame. Vortigern was looking forward to the possibility. An opportunity to kill more of his civilians and guards.

-------He made his way through the hallway, lead by some random woman servant who Vortigern said no words to. He was not oblivious to the fact that there were cats all over the place. So in additional to a gryffin fetish, he also had a cat fetish too? Vortigern's stride was confident and poised, but every now and then a cat would quickly scurry in front of him, and his 'accidental' stepping on its tail would release a loud hiss from the feline. After two or three of these, Vortigern had enough. The next cat who had hissed at him, he quickly pulled out his sword and stabbed the creature right through, straight down at a perfect angle. He pulled out the sword placing the weapon back in its sheath, and picked up the deceased cat. It was concealed casually under his cape so that no one would be able to see it upon first glance.

-------As they drew towards the doors, the servant stopped, gave a bit of a bow and stepped aside. Vortigern heard a voice announce his name...a woman's voice. How utterly demeaning. He was a prince! He should be announced with someone of more standing rather than just a woman. Keeping a serious expression on his face, and forcing his father's words of remaining polite and respectful to facilitate his actions, Vortigern entered the room. The very, strange looking room. It actually had its charms, and he hoped that what it represented would be the outcome of his visit: violence, slaughter, war! His gaze fixated on the king, though he did notice the company that Amalric kept. Women. A great deal of women. Was he doing this just to spite him? Did he hear that much of his reputation? Vortigern did not ask, and he would have to act like it did not bother him. But he already felt as if the king of Landgraben was not taking this seriously. Then again, why was that such a bad thing? It would be a valid, and truthful excuse for Vortigern to return to Soleria and report to his father that Amalric cared nothing for peace; only to tempt and provoke them to war.

-------With the sudden silence that the room had been filled with due to his presence, Vortigern decided to fill it. He walked towards the table, the sound of his boots echoing in this room. With his cape having been shrouded to one side, over his shoulder and arm, the very side that the cat was concealed under, Vortigern lifted his arm, revealing the dead animal. He threw it towards Amalric so that it landed on the table, right in front of the king. "Do you believe that this is just cause for a declaration of war?" He asked sarcastically, with a slight smirk, referring to the fact that he had killed one of his cats. So his sense of humor tended to be a bit more morbid. What did he care. At the very least, perhaps it would irk out some of the women and cause them to leave. Women did after all tend to be over sensitive and far too sympathetic. He knew what his sisters would do if they saw him kill a cat: they would cry and wail and pray for the poor kitty's sole. It was pathetic really.

-------"King Amalric," he finally greeted, refusing to bow to a man who he perceived as his enemy. He walked towards the seat meant for him and sat down, his men taking their positions around the room, on guard should any of these talks turn into something more, intense. But how were they to have serious talks of politics are such, if there were women all about them? Would they stick their opinion in? Most probably. No woman was not opinionated and the fact that Amalric had probably done this deliberately to infuriate Vortigern, made him all the more angry at his actions. But again, he remained composed. He had given his word to his father and Gildas was the only man that he would not dishonor. "I came with the understanding that we are to talk of peace and politics." He began, his voice holding a tone of mocking. "Not gossip and fashion." Which is all women seemed to talk about.

-------Vortigern continued to politely smile when she expressed her condolence. "Kind of you Lady Morgana," he said trying to sound genuine when in actuality he really did not care. "Had he been able, I am certain he would have liked nothing more." Right. And his father would still probably have dragged him with him to meet Lady Morgana. He was not sure what was worse: having to possibly talk to Uther about such, possible marital arrangements, or his father talking to Uther about such a thing. He knew his father would make it sound like something he so desired, and would find a way to make Uther regard it as beneficial. There was of course no guarantee that he would have agreed to it. Hell, Vortigern was not even in agreement to this. Presenting two options as to where they could find privacy, Vortigern knew which was more to his liking. "I feel myself craving some fresh air. Perhaps the gardens, if it suits My Lady."

-------My Lady. How utterly wrong. Yes, she was a Lady, a noblewoman, but nothing more. And Vortigern had to speak to her as if she was some sort of princess. It was not in her blood and one could not just automatically be bestowed with such a position. Even if they were the adopted daughter of a king, or even if they married into it. Though Vortigern would never understand any royal who wished to marry someone beneath their station. He would not be the exception to this outrageous possibility! While these thoughts screamed in his head, he stay composed. He extended his hand forward so that she would move ahead of him. Which again, was just so very wrong. She should be walking behind him. But now, he would have to walk behind her and why? Because, as if his father would say: It is a sign of respect and proper etiquette. He only hoped that her servants would not follow.

-------Vortigern was going to have to have a chat with his father. He sent him to Camelot, as he always did, to continue negotiations of peace. Only this time, so much had changed. The King was no longer king, it was his son who had taken over. He had apparently, knighted men of non noble blood. And worst of all, he had selected a queen who once was a servant. Vortigern felt nauseous from this very idea. Since when were servants and peasants suddenly high on the social ladder? Since when was it acceptable to put these people in such prestigious positions. And his father wanted to make this kingdom their allies? When Vortigern was king, he would never for a second consider making such a place his allies, for they were weak. And quite frankly, he could not wait to get out of this hell hole and return home.

-------Something that had been greatly delayed, though not of choice. He was waiting for Arthur, King Arthur [apparently] to come bid him farewell. But, Vortigern had been waiting for over an hour. They had established a time to meet, and now Vortigern was in the grand hall, alone. Annoyed by the king's complete disregard. If he did not come in the next few minutes, Vortigern would most certainly go search for him and demand what had occupied his time. What was so much more important than keeping to your word and honoring a fellow Prince. Ohh, big man; now that he was king perhaps his ego had grown and he did not feel Vortigern was worthy of a king's time. This very thought infuriated the young prince. It was why he was determined to wait, his stubbornness fueling his ability to remain in this room until Arthur arrived.

-------He made himself quite comfortable too, sitting in the throne. May as well since they were clearly lacking a king right now. How was it that a kingdom had two kings that were alive, and yet both were utterly useless. This should certainly be recorded in history. Camelot, the most incapable kingdom of them all. Sitting in the chair, in a large room alone, the sound of footsteps hurriedly approaching were very easy to hear for even behind closed doors, they echoed in the otherwise silent room. Vortigern straightened himself, his eyes fixated on the doors. Waiting for whoever it was to enter and give him an explanation. And it had better be one hell of an explanation at that.

Tag: Guinevère

-------Vortigern looked a the man. Silently judging him. From the way he carried himself to the tone of voice he spoke to him in. His father's words kept ringing in his head: "Be respectful; be courteous; be polite." Vortigern was not known for any of these traits in Soleria, but he would have to play this more, amicable side of him. If such a word could ever be used to describe the young prince. He wanted to ask to meet Viktor's sisters, have them lined up, pick one or determine that he disliked them, and then move past that part of his reason for being here. But even Vortigern knew that this was a bit too direct. And he was well aware of how much King Gildas would disapprove of such haste.

-------Did he have good travels? No. It was long, boring, and he did not want to be here. "Yes. It was quite uneventful," he replied politely, making that sound like a good thing. He wished he'd been attacked by Lothians. It would have been a just cause for war! "It was gracious of your father to extend an invitation for me to come. My father sends his regards and regrets in his inability to be present." When all else fails, talk about his father. For those words came with great ease, as they were not ones of falsehood. Everything else that Vorigern said to Lot, was questionable.

-------Who cares if he was being rude! "I am entitled to be rude if I so wish, for it is within my right!" He was allowed to do anything he pleased and she should not be arguing with him for it. "And you, you have no rights. None that exceed mine." None that were above his. She ought to keep in mind where she stood on the social ladder. She would forever be under him and she had better be well aware of this! But , it was clear that she was not. It was clear from the very first sentence she said to him that she cared little about the respect one was expected to give. She seemed to be one of those 'only give respect to those who deserve it' type of people. He hated that mindset. For it undermined his authority. Royals should not have to earn respect; as he had just stated, they were automatically entitled to it the moment they were born.

-------And her next words just continued to prove how annoyingly defiant she was. She was clearly not going to heed to his command. Unfortunately. "Then one day, you will lose your head for it." If only they were in Sorelia; how he longed to see her behind bars and then that march up to the executioners block! But he could do nothing of the sort here. Not when there was another king who held authority. Maybe he would have to find a way to get her to 'visit' Sorelia, so that she fully understood who he was and how people feared him; how they trembled at the sound of his name! The thought was so much more tempting when she suggested that he was not intelligent for he had let himself get distracted. "I will not make that mistake next time." He mumbled because, well because he had no retort for that. First he was arguing that she was a distraction, now how could he argue that she was not? Even he was not so contradicting in his words.

-------"Besides, I have seen and been in battle. And that hardly constituted as a battle." He added, just to inflate his ego. Just to make it sound as if he had fought, and survived greater things than a mere bandit attack. It could have been something life changing for her, had her virtue actually been taken. A subject of conversation that he was not going to sway from. When she questioned, he assumed rhetorically, what her losing her virtue could do...well, he had many answers to that. So he replied in a rather nonchalant, and extremely smug tone of voice. "It could have done many things. It could have produced a bastard child which would have forever shamed you and your entire family." His tone was a bit too casual when speaking of such things, but he probably would not had the outcome been different; had her fear come true.

-------It took the fun out of criticizing her if she expressed her delight in leaving. He had no idea why she had departed away from them. Part of him wanted to ask, but that would make it seem as if he actually...cared. "You lift the curse of one group of relatives only to then curse another. I sympathize with them. For your company only for mere minutes has been unbearable." To say the least. "I can not imagine being forced in your presence for a longer duration of time." And hopefully, he would not have to which is why he they needed to get back to the city as soon as possible. Good! She was moving again. Though she appeared unsteady, and was close enough in his reach, he did not aid her. He just turned and kept walking, expecting her to take her rightful place: behind him.

-------"Well then we should not keep discussing such worthless things." he insulted, at the remark of her virtue not being this frequent in conversation. As he made clear before, her virtue meant very little to him; she meant very little to him. And then she asked his name. She asked for his name. "I will grant you the privilege of knowing my name when I so choose." It really was not a big deal. He just did not want to meet with any of her requests. He perceived it as a way that would make her feel as if she had some control, and he would be quickly losing his control. So he waited several moments before revealing the information. "I am Prince Vortigern of Sorelia." A formal title, to remind her of his rank and authority. Not that he had made it an easy subject to forget or ignore during the course of their conversation. He tended to throw it in every chance he got, and would not cease doing so.