King Arthur (APH fan-fic) (UNFINISHED)

King Arthur

"Theif!" The large butcher shouted chasing after the dirt-covered boy.

"Get back 'ere you filthly git! Thieving bastard!"

The 'filthy git' ignored them and used their small size to their advantage, ducking and weaving between legs and stalls. He was only 15, but he was shorter and skinny than other kids his age. He was a messy haired blonde, and had dazzling emerald eyes.

Eventually, he lost the butcher and made his way to the ally where he lived. Nestled in the corner of a turn in the cobblestone path was a rickety wooden structure that he called home.

"Artie!" Two young boys cried out, running out from the little hut.

"Whoa, don't knock me down." He said smiling fondly at them as they tackled his legs.

"Whatcha got for us?" The older of the two, Alfred, asked. He was 12 years old, had sandy blonde hair, and one lock of hair was constantly sticking up in the front. He had bright sky blue eyes that had a hard time seeing anything. He had a weak english accent, constantly drawing attention when they didn't want it.

"This." Arthur took out his stolen goods and Alfred instantly snatched the sausage.

"Hey I wanted that!" The other boy, Peter, yelled. Peter was Arthur's younger brother, and was similar down to their bushy eyebrows, minus his eyes. Which were a striking ocean blue. He was eight years old and had somehow yet to pick up the dirty language the other two boys used.

"Oh let him have the sausage, that way you can have this." He then handed him beef.

"Mha mo maih!" Alfred protested through a mouth full of the juicy meat.

"Too late you already ate it. Should of thought that out better wanker."Arthur shrugged .

"Bastard." He shot back.

"Bugger"

"Ruffian."

"Shut up I'm trying to eat!" Peter shouted at the both of them.

Alfred crackled up and Arthur simply shook his head, picking his own meal from his 'winnings.'

"Oh yeah, I found this earlier, and I wanted you to read it to me." Alfred chucked a wadded up piece of paper at Arthur.

He weakly deflected it then snatched it off the ground, smoothing it out over his knees.

"On August third, gather 'round at the town center to witness thy campions step forth to pullith the sword from the stone-"

Alfred snorted.

"What?" Arthur glared at him. He wanted him to read it, why would he interrupt?

"The sword in the stone? That stupid thing they found in a cave surrounded by prophecies scratched into the wall about a new king."

"Yes." Arthur held up the paper. "Do you want me to read this or not?"

He shook his head and chuckled. "Now that I know what it is, no. No one is going to get that dammed thing out of that rock."

"But you'll be king if you can." Peter spoke around a mouth full of food.

"But they can't"

"I say we go to the square and watch the grown men embarrass themselves." Arthur suggested.

"Yeah!"

"Sure."

He clapped his hands together. "So its decided. We go see the Sword in the Stone."