Merthur- Just like Magic

ii

Arthur never knew that a man could be so beautiful. The man that was climbing down from the horse beside them, however, could not be described any other any other way. He was simply beautiful.

The boy was his age, with dark hair that seemed to devour all the sunlight in the courtyard, and his nose and lips and jawline were carved in stone. His cheeks were tinged with the stress of the journey, and he was still panting slightly, small, gasping breaths. His eyes were alight with all the trees and fields and birds they had passed on their way, and his shoulders and back were as smooth as the hills that whispered in the countryside.

Arthur stood, almost hitting his head against the side of the horse. The princess he had helped down coughed once to gain his attention, and Arthur found that it took immense willpower to sever his gaze from the boy. He smiled politely as he regarded the princess, and she smiled back.

"Are you okay? You look as if you have seen a specter- have you?" She tilted her head to the side, concerned. She was much like the boy, lithe, almost ethereal; and yet, even though she was female, and was pretty enough, she didn't have a certain look to her that was unique of the boy. Arthur couldn't place an adjective to it. There was something enchanting about him that Arthur couldn't quite place.

Arthur found himself reddening, though he wasn't sure why. He inhaled deeply, composing himself. "No, it was nothing abnormal. I just thought I saw an acquaintance."

He took her hand and kissed it, bowing down. "My lady, I don't believe we have been introduced. I am Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot."

"Of course," she giggled, "and I am princess Matilda Ainsworth. What a pleasure to meet you." Her voice was not the same as those who lived in Camelot. It was heavier, unlike her frame, and northern.

"Likewise," he said. "If you may excuse me, I must join my father to greet the rest of the guests." She bowed, and handed off her horse to serving boy, before heading off the join the boy who had previously captured the mind of the prince.

Arthur gave a short bow back, and turned, heading up the stairs. A knight-in-training stood at the top: Sir Leon, a younger boy whom Arthur had shared many a bout in training. He sidled up alongside the youth and elbowed him when he tried to bow.

  "Please do not bow, can't I entertain a single conversation without people groveling?" He asked, exasperated.

  "As you wish, Sire. What is it you which to speak to me about?" Leon still nodded, determined to show respect for his sovereign. Arthur liked him for that. He was loyal, unlike many rats in the citadel.

  "Do you recall the names of the visiting family? I want to make sure you are aware of who each individual is," Arthur prodded. Of course, Arthur had forgotten their names, but he wasn't going to readily admit that. He had a reputation to uphold.

  You could see in Leon's eyes that the youth knew this. He didn't say anything, however. " I don't remember all of their names, but I do believe there will be an introduction in the hall," he quipped.

  Arthur pointed out the boy who had ensnared his eyes earlier. "Who is that?" He desperately wanted an answer, but he didn't know why.

  "I don't remember, Sire. I believe it started with an 'E'? Eustace, perhaps? Or was it Edward?" Leon stared at the prince, pale eyes weighed down with the disappointment of not providing an answer.

  Arthur felt guilty for rendering him to this state. He swallowed back his pride. Setting a hand upon the young knight-to-be's shoulder, he said: "'Tis perfectly fine. I must admit, I've forgotten myself, it is nothing to be ashamed about. I mean, seven children! Seven! There is no way one could remember them all!" He could see the weight lifting off of the younger man's shoulders, and the unease shake out its wings, let loose, and fly away.

"You are going to make a great knight one day, Sir Leon," Arthur stated, and Leon began to beam. Arthur could have sworn that he stood just a little taller.

Clapping him on the back, Arthur set off into the entry hall, where most of the guests had gathered. They all stood like gnomes in the garden, once royal and splendid, and now just slightly dented from their travels. They all stood straighter than towers, as if afraid that the heavy garments on their shoulders would pull them into the ground. Arthur glanced towards Eustace-Edward, who was studying a tapestry that left from the wall and quickly glanced away.

"If you would follow me, I will escort you to the throne room where we can make formal introductions and arrangements for your rooms." He quickly turned and walked ahead of them, feeling their eyes upon him, as if they had all become detached and were bouncing down his back.

Normally, this rarely bothered him. Except-

Except-

Except for the fact that now Eustace-Edward was now looking at him! And following him! And going to stay in his castle!

Arthur didn't understand why he was feeling this way, why he was so curious about Eustace-Edward everything, why he was so strangely happy when he saw Eustace-Edward, why it all felt buoyant and light, as if in a dream. He didn't understand it, so he pushed his feelings aside.

When he got to the great hall, he stepped into place on the chess board that was the kingdom. Bishops and Knights and Pawns and Rooks littered the ground around him, and the King stood straight and tall beside him, strong and essential and weak and unmoving. The other King stood beside him: he had gone up ahead with His Majesty, separate, like all kings, of his family.

This is when the playing cards were laid out. The symmetrical queen stepped forward, sphere-shaped movements defining her path towards Uther. Her face was sunken low into her body, and her hair was long enough that it was too burdened for curls. She held out her hand, and the eldest Pendragon took it.

  "My lady Sybil, beautiful as always," the King slurred, with his most charming smile. Arthur bowed to her, silent.

  Each child then came forth, except for the eldest, who had been off married years previously at eighteen and never made contact afterward. When each child came forth, they were similarly greeted. Glad you arrived safelys and wonderful to see yous exchanged lips, even the youngest offering his greetings. When Princess Matilda came up, Arthur smiled and said hello: but through the entire affair his eyes only occasionally strayed toward the newest introduction.

  He remained steadfastly staring at Eustace-Edward, who had stood extremely straight, entirely silent. You could see his stomach just slightly through his white garment, and Arthur's eyes kept wandering, again and again.

  When the boy stepped up for his turn, Arthur had to shut his eyes to prevent himself from peaking as he bowed. They made eye contact for the very first time, and Arthur almost missed what his father said because the drums in his bones had begun to sound their battle cry. He was glad he didn't though when he heard it: "I'm glad you made it here safely, Prince Thomas. It is my pleasure to welcome you to Camelot."

  Thomas. That was his name. Thomas. Arthur thus evaporated into the sunlight.

a/n: When I write saddle, it autocorrects to Seattle. Why? We are on a road trip (bet you can't guess where we are going), and I've got some time to write. Anyways, a great thank you to anyone who has read so far! Sorry I haven't updated in forever, I just started a new school. Peace out, men! (<-- general gender-neutral term)

...
1343