When I'm King

Chapter 2

Once he gathered himself together, Sherlock marched down to his father in the throne room. On his way down the three levels of the castle and crossed a number or extravagant corridors to get to the King, the young prince was wondering how he would go about asking his father for the information about the mysterious knight outside. Sherlock had almost always been aware of the fact he preferred men to women, but he very rarely gave thought to the possibility of him marrying one, well at least not for love. It wasn't completely uncommon for two men to be legally binned to one another similar to that of a man and women, but it was usually for the purpose of a business agreement or to create a stronger alliance when a maiden was lacked by both parties. He understood that whomever he married, it would most likely be for his kingdom, not his heart.
And so, as the scared prince approached his father, he questioned himself for even considering asking. He knew it would end in a problematic way, but as he pushed the doors open, fueled by curiosity, he did not seem to care.
Standing for a moment or two in front of his father, Sherlock waited with the hope he would soon know all he would need to. Noticing the papers in his fathers hands that seemed to drip with threats of war, he began to second-guess his mission again. He wanted to know, but was it worth it to push ones father whilst they are already under such pressure? Curiosity getting the better of him he cleared his throat and waited for his father to acknowledge him. After clearing his throat a few more times, his father spoke up, but did not remove his eyes from his papers.
"Yes Sherlock, what is it?" he asked.
Choosing his words very carefully, he began, "I was wondering who the blonde knight outside, under the library window, was? He seems to have some excellent talents in fighting but I do not recognize who he is."
The King stiffened enough for Sherlock to notice and begin to worry. Lowering his papers and looking towards his son, he appeared very stunned. He knew what was happening and he was going to stop it. Standing up to tower over his son and hopefully scare him a bit, the king, spoke, unable to conceal the tremble in his voice.
"Could you please describe this young man?" he asked, hoping it was not who he thought it to be.
"Well, I noticed a young, blonde man outside-below the library window-when a loud clashing distracted me from my reading. I looked out at them and saw him. He seems fairly short, but still a remarkable fighter. I'm sorry I cannot be more descriptive, but I saw him from a fair distance."
"Oh," uttered the king, distaste filling the room as he spoke, he was correct,"I do not believe I know of whom you speak of. There are a great deal of well trained knights, I do not even know how many are blonde or bald or whatever. If you want to know so badly you should have inquired him for his personal information. Besides, why would you even want to know who he is?" He said, pushing away from the subject of the knight himself and more towards that of the question being raised.
"I just did not know who he was and thought I should be up to date on those who help defend our kingdom, especially if I may have to rule over it some day."
"Of course," said the king, sitting down and raising his papers again,"I understand. But I do not know who he is, nor do I care at the moment, I have put men in charge of that. For now my concern is where to send my troops not who's in them."
"Of course father. I'm sorry for bothering you." He said and began to walk out the room when his father stopped him.
"And Sherlock, I would highly advise you to keep your nose out of this. You are not king yet, and this is not your responsibility. Understand?" The king said, once more removing his eyes from the declarations of war and examining his son from a distance.
"Yes father, I understand."
"Good, you may leave now."
And with a nod, Sherlock left. Climbing once more the stairs to the library. He returned to his spot in the window and looked down at the knights training. He was watching the blonde knight fight. He had taken down every one of his opponents and seemed to be facing a new one. This one Sherlock knew. Lestrade, grey hair and a fair fighter. Very useful when Sherlock needs anything.
They seemed very into the fight, both battling as if it were their life on the line. The blonde knight got an upper hand and took Lestrade down, but instead of finishing him like a traditional battle, he offered his hand to help him up. Lestrade slung his arm over the knights shoulder, and shouting, gave Sherlock some information. As he brushed off some grass with one hand and patted the knight on the shoulder, he said
"Good on you, Watson. You are a fair adversary, that is, for a doctor."
So his name is Watson? And he is a doctor?
wondered Sherlock. Continuing to listen he heard a deep chuckle that made him feel warm inside followed by a low voice commenting on the comment of his being a doctor.
"Oh sod off Lestrade, and call me John. If anyone says Watson, I'll think my old man is here." he said, laughing again.
John.
Feeling a warmth rise through his body, Sherlock found himself smile. He watched them as the gathered their things and began to head off to a local pub or home. He sat there for a while longer, hoping for him to return, but nothing happened. After some time it became dark, and, not knowing what hour it was, shuffled down the hall to his room.
Opening the drawer of his dresser and removing a fake bottom, he retrieved the vile he had stashed earlier. Taking a drink of what remained, he reminded himself to purchase more than one bottle next time. He place the bottle in the drawer and closed it. Stumbling over to his bed, he didn't bother to remove his clothes. With consciousness fading, he thought of one thing.
John Watson.