Distance Between Us | Peterick AU

1

Patrick stirred awake from the quiet knock that came from the other side of his door. It opened a crack, and a small, frail figure was standing at the threshold with her head poking in.

"Mr. Stumph?" She asked quietly. "Breakfast is ready. Your father requests your presence."

Patrick groaned and stirred in his plush bedsheets, not ready to get up yet. The woman was about to depart when he muttered his response. "What time is it?"

"Quarter past seven, Mr. Stumph. You best hurry." 

It was seven thirty by the time Patrick had made it down the multiple flights of stairs and into the informal dining room. There, his father, mother, and sister sat around the obnoxiously long table in the center of the room. They peered impatiently over the mountains of steaming breakfast food.

"Sorry," Patrick apologized, quickly taking his seat at the opposite head of the the table, across from his father. The others began to eat what was already on their plates, as Patrick gathered heaps of sausage and pastries onto his china.

"You know I do not approve of you being this late to breakfast every morning, Patrick," his mother said sternly, cutting her links up into smaller pieces.

"I would just like to sleep in for once!" he shot back, then suddenly became aware of his attitude. "Sorry, I should not have said it like that."

"In this family," his father started, "we eat all of our meals together. You are expected to be out of bed and at this table by seven fifteen every morning."

Patrick internally scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, father."

The meal took terribly long in Patrick's opinion (as always), and he went right up and back to bed once he was finally excused. He still had swordsmanship lessons in less than an hour, but it was still enough time to fall back asleep before having to get dressed and out to the side courtyard.

That resulted in Patrick pushing through the outside door and running down the garden stairs ten minutes late.

"I have been informed of your recent tardy behavior, Mr. Stumph," his instructor, Simon, said when he finally picked up the metal sword.

"I know, apologies," Patrick repeated for the second time that morning. "I have just been desperate for sleep."

"And why is that?" Simon studied Patrick's beginning stance. He tapped the places that needed to be perfected.

"Just going to sleep late, that is all."

Patrick sprinted for the target and swung violently. The sword got caught in the wood.

"A little pent up anger I see?" Simon walked up behind him and pulled out the sword. Patrick was smiling sheepishly.

"Just a little bit."

"And why is that?" He handed it back to him with the handle side first.

"I feel like there is an extravagant amount of control over me," Patrick started. "As if I just cannot get a break from-"

"This is a swordsmanship lesson, not a therapy session. Back to work Mr. Stumph."

Patrick stood frozen for a moment, processing what had just occurred, before going back to practicing.

Noon was dinner time, leaving only two hours of space between the lesson and the meal. During that time, Patrick was grateful to finally get a chance to work on his drawings. It was something nobody else knew about, except for Earl.

Earl was one of the castle's servants, and he had been around since before Patrick was born. Back when Patrick was a little tot, he had taken an immediate liking to Earl, and they had been inseparable ever since. Even between the large age difference, Patrick considered him his only true friend.