[2] WEEPING MONK║you're not what I was looking for

43| Thicker Than Water - 𝐈

═ 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 ═

[TW// blood, injury, grief, intoxication.]

Chaos descends upon the forest and Ari is forced to take drastic measures. Lancelot finds himself in a sticky situation.

❖
the pen is mightier than the sword
then how did we get here?
❖

She stared at the parchment, rolling the quill between her fingers. There were a sleuth of others, perhaps ten or so sitting half written and unfinished across the table, each one not good enough and unsatisfactorily failing at saying what she wants. What do you say to your enemy? When conceding to ask for their help? She reminded herself that this was necessary. They were both fighting against a common threat and the Fey needed the human king's army if they were to survive this.

A shadow lingered at the entrance of the tent, outside of the veil casted by the sunlight with a silhouette that she recognised. Ari watched up through her eyelashes, the shadowed outline creeping ever closer. Tiny little fingertips curled around the edge of the veil and the queen stayed silent, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

She raised her face up fully, and when messy blonde locks peeked into view she called out quick and abruptly to satisfy her own amusement, "Squirrel what are you doing here?"

The boy's eyes still blessed with the brightness of youth poked around the edge of the veil, a sneaky grin on his lips. "Spying," he answered her coyly.

You are far too obvious, Ari thought, he was not subtle at all. "On your queen? 'Tis not wise," she jested, lowering her eyes back down to the parchment before her and rolling the quill again in her loose grasp.

Making himself welcome, Squirrel stepped into the tent, chuckling at her remark. Inquisitive as ever, the boy picked up his head, tucked his hands behind his back and strolled across to the table like he owned the place, asking curiously, "What are you doing?"

It didn't go unnoticed to Ari how the boy moved, somehow resembling both of the Ash men at once. He had the indifference stance of the elder and the bolstered confidence of the younger. Time would only tell which one the boy leant to more as he grew, but she already had a good idea.

She flicked her eyes up as he approached opposite to her, "Writing a letter."

Squirrel cocked his head down to his shoulder, trying to see in an upside down way the things which were before her, "To who?"

Ari let out the smallest sigh. She could not tell the boy the truth, because the boy would tell everyone else. Some things were best kept a secret and so she responded with something vague, "Someone who I hope... will help us."

Tiny feet shuffled the boy around the table, leaning in even closer, "Can I see?"

The child was straightforward as usual and Ari was reluctant to say yes, but her mind churned up the memory of when they were at Yvoire Abbey, when the boy had the Church's holy book in his hands even though he did not know what he was looking at. That evening Lancelot had read one of the stories to the young one and even taught him a few words from the inked pages. But that was all written in another tongue, and the boy could not read even their own.