asgardeventide | o13 ♔ video / semi-open action

[ Because this picture is pretty and I wanted to share it with you. Shush. ]

[ Arthur hasn't been gone long. Many of you likely wouldn't have even noticed his absence at all. But he is returned now, just over a year older and with a new crown that ~~he may or may not have stolen from Burger King~~ is far more ornate than a Prince's coronet hanging in his hands. He may not be much older but he certainly looks aged. ]

It would seem this realm has not tired of its want for Kings and Queens.

[ A tight lipped smile. King Arthur of Camelot has just come from the middle of his coronation, and he is hardly amused. ]

I would ask a question of you, Travellers, if you care to answer. How many of you believed you would return home following the battle of Ragnarok, as was promised? How many of you were prepared for it? Wished for it?

[ A pause. ]

Are there any among you that held dread for the prospect, and are glad now to remain in this city for however long you might?

[ He did, once. Now, he is not so sure. He rolls the crown in his hands once, shifts. ]

Or - an easier inquiry, if you are not inclined to answer the other. How many have returned to their native realms, despite the unresolved conflict? Those of you that have made my acquaintance or would call yourselves my friends, I ask that you make known your presence.

[ Another beat, another tense smile. ]

I suppose Asgard is not yet finished with me after all.

[ The feed ends there. Arthur can be found walking from the Heimdall district in the direction of Thor, golden crown once more upon his head and his rich red cloak trailing in the dirt behind him. He might seem a bit dazed, as he is trying to fit the memories of Asgard into his memory of Camelot or perhaps the other way around, but he will stop to speak with people if approached.

He hesitates only a moment on the sidewalk before the New Camelot residence. Arthur's not sure if he's still meant to call it 'home.' But after taking the time to look his fill, to try and remember what he already knows, he will finally cross the yard to knock on the door. He no longer has the key, after all. ]

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[ Arthur knows Mordred is still within the city, had made certain of it upon his arrival, but he can't say he's entirely surprised when he doesn't see the boy amidst all the kerfuffle at his entrance. Whatever lies between them (friendship, they'd once spoke of, but time has not given them near enough the chance) is still tenuous and new, fraught with uncertainties. He hardly expects Morgana's theatrics or Lancelot's joviality, but hiding?

It would be endearing if it weren't also somewhat troubling.

Once he's extricated himself from Morgana (no small feat), he will seek out the boy, glancing around the rooms downstairs before noticing Mordred behind the balusters. Arthur quirks a small smile before walking over and placing his hands on the lowest cap of the railing. ]

You know, Morgana and I used to seek out the most obscure niches of the castle when we wished to escape our tutors. I don't know that this house is quite so suited to hiding in plain sight.

[ He smiles lightly and crouches down in front of him again, like the last time, to remove that imposing height, but perhaps it's not quite as effective when he's still adorned in crown and cape. ]

Have you been well, Mordred?

[Mordred's face peeks up at him when he is found, hands holding fast to the railing. A small frown turns his mouth pensively as he watches Arthur's descent to his own level, and the frown relents. How strange you look like that, Arthur, gilded and Uther-like. But not Uther-like at the same time. Who could imagine Uther Pendragon crouched down like this before a druid child talking of hide and seek?

One hand ventures out into the space between them and two of the bravest fingertips touch a point of that crown.]

I have missed you.

[ His lips part a little in surprise as Mordred reaches towards his crown, a gesture so few would ever make (one he has made himself, in his toddler years, the few instances Uther was father before King). Warmth floods his chest and he smiles unabashedly, inexplicably pleased. ]

I am glad to have returned, then.

[A small smile echoes Arthur's and Mordred takes in a deep breath of relief, but he knows better than to say that part of the relief comes from seeing the crown on a different head. He knows not say that part of his smile is for the knowledge that the man who took his own father is dead.]

Do not leave again.

[Serious face now.]

[ He gives pause, lowers his eyes and then gives a soft exhale as he moves to sit on the floor and look up at Mordred from below. ]

You must know that I did not leave, so much as I was - [ taken? unkidnapped? lost? ] - returned, rather, and entirely unexpectedly. I would not intentionally depart without saying so beforehand. I cannot say it might not happen again.

[Mordred finally slips out from behind the banister and moves to settle on the floor beside Arthur]

Then each time you go and return I shall tell you not to leave again...

[A nod]

Until the time it becomes true...or until we all leave together.

[ He smiles down at the boy, wondrous thing that he is. ]

You may very well be what holds us all together, little one.

[ And, in a rare fit of affection, Arthur ruffles Mordred's hair gently. ]

[Mordred chuckles softly, chin tucking down into his chest at the hair ruffle]

I shall make that my quest.

o13 ♔ video / semi-open action

because not everyone is as creepy as you, creepred.

He prefers Sir Staresalot.

Sir Staresalot, the creepy.

Son of Lady Smirksalot

sovereign over the land of Ambiguously Evil

Ambiguously Evil and Precious - a land where Duality reigns supreme

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