There's Crows In The Garden | 3rd Life AU

.: December Visitors :.

Forgot to post this earlier oopsies

TWs: war, blood, death

***

Fall into winter was a blur of cold: cold nights, cold iron, cold hands. Blood pooled into the soil of Dogwarts, swords and knives were discarded onto the muddy, frosty ground, and graves were dug en masse. Many came to contest the new king of Dogwarts, and many died as a result, as the people of the kingdom were on his side and came to his aid at a moment's notice.

Ren and I still didn't know how to fight when it was all over with. Thank the gods above we had the people.

The Dogwarts castle was too ruined to live in without major repairs, so My King and I lived above his shop, which someone else ran now. It was less than proper for a king, but it pleased the people. The fact that Ren was willing to still live in a simple shophouse showed that, though he was in a position of high power now, he hadn't forgotten his common roots, and therefore would most likely pass laws in favor of the common folk. 

(The shophouse was kind of cramped, though, and both Ren and I were looking forward to moving into the castle in the spring, when work was projected to be over.)

Ren also didn't have a crown yet, since the previous king's had been stolen at some point, but that was getting worked on, as well as a majestic, fur-trimmed robe. As for me, Ren had the local leatherworker making boots of the utmost quality, even though I'd protested I didn't need anything new. 

(I did; my boots were worn down just about as far as they'd go without holes forming in them.)

With all of the changes, Ren and I were both incredibly excited, but also a bit stressed, Ren especially. "I don't know how to be a king!" he'd told me about a bajillion times already. "I'm just a humble shopkeeper!"

"Well, I'm not quite sure how to do what I'm supposed to, either," I'd always respond. "We'll figure it out together."

And so, we'd spend hours talking business at Ren's kitchen table, figuring out how to find the most skilled knights in the kingdom, how to deal with taxes (How far could we raise them without rebellions? How far could we lower them without driving the kingdom into debt?), and how to eat with proper etiquette. At the same time, we had sessions with a retired warrior every day on how to fight for and defend ourselves and others.

Slowly, we were figuring out how to live this new life. It was hard, yeah, but it was worth it, and at the end of the day, we were always satisfied. 

So, that's how things went for the first couple of months. We learned and we learned and we learned, preparing for the day someone prestigious and powerful would come to see us and allow us to practice our new skills in a professional environment.

And then, at the beginning of a snowy December, that day came.

***

"My King?" I called, brushing snow from my jacket as I entered the upstairs bit of the Emporium. "Are you up here?" 

There was silence for a second, and then Ren shouted back, "Yeah, kitchen table!"

I slipped off my jacket, folding it underneath my arm, and went to find Ren. He was at the kitchen table as he'd said, talking with someone I didn't recognize. A little slower than I would've liked (I guess I needed to work on my reflexes), my hand went to the dagger I'd hidden in a secret compartment of my belt.

"Martyn!" said Ren as I deposited my jacket on the counter nearby. "How was your trek?"

"Good, good," I murmured, distracted by Ren's guest. "You didn't tell me you were planning on having company today."