forum what a grand adventure // oxo // open

Started November 30, 2023 by @larcenistarsonist group

tune

"What? No, Arthur you should be fine," Luc insists with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Well, if you would like, you could wait outside and i could dramatically announce your arrival and the Queen would be so impressed that she would have to let you go on this potentially life-threatening and certainly dangerous quest." Because Luc can't do this alone–hell, he can survive and cope just fine on his own. He could fend off a hoard of bandits with nothing but a dagger and swagger–but who will keep Luc from throwing himself over a waterfall from sheer boredom. Yes, Arthur is practically nothing short of a brick wall sometimes, but at least he can humor Luc. At least Arthur will indulge on his occasional shenanigans when the whimsy strikes him. He needs something to bounce ideas off of, and a brick wall of a man is better than a cold, empty space where someone should be. "I'm sure I can convince her to allow you to come."

Luc mainly says the last part to reassure himself. The advisor continues to shuffle along the marble floor, growing deeper and deeper into the castle where the towering throne room resides. Queen Estasha is hardly cruel, but she's cold and strict and without an ounce of warmth. Luc doesn't blame her ex-husband for the divorce, if he's being honest. She's a good ruler, hardly a good wife or mother. Maybe she could take a lesson from Luc? Maybe she could learn how to construct a lovely sentence to truly enamour her audience–oh, and they've arrived. Luc gestures quickly for Arthur to stand just outside the towering oak doors. Luc swallows the tension forming in his throat and shoots Arthur an enthusiastic thumbs up and a stage-whisper of "wait for my signal–", though he's really only half joking.

The temperature of the room drops a few digits as Luc's led down the long, white carpet to kneel before the glittering throne. The Queen, dressed in white and sparkling blue, looks down at the knight from over her nose. "Stand,' she orders and Luc wastes no time to obey. Her eyes go the advisor, and then shift to meet Arthur's all the way at the end of the long room. Her expression doesn't even shift as she returns her scrutiny to Luc. "I'm sure my advisor has told you why you're here." Her low voice echoes through the cavernous room. "Lucian de Aurelius, I have a quest for you. If you are bold enough to accept it."

Arthur stopped short of the massive throne room, daring only to peer inside through the open doors. There were few things that really made him feel small, but the vast space before him was certainly one of them. The Queen's sharp stare only exaggerated the feeling, leaving Arthur grateful that he had chosen to keep some distance considering his lack of an invitation into her presence.

As he watched Lucian approach her, Arthur's thought lingered on what Lucian had said in the hallway. Had he been serious about wanting Arthur to come along? Surely not. Of course, Arthur would not be opposed to it, but to be hand-picked by the Queen for such a mission was an honor, one that Lucian had earned by winning the spar. Even if Lucian were to be given the freedom to choose a companion for the trip, wouldn't it be wiser to choose someone else? Someone more swift and limber? Or at least more amiable? Arthur was well aware of his lack-luster personality and poor social skills. He imagined few would have him as their first choice of a man to be stuck with for an extended period of time.

Then again, perhaps it made sense. To go on a quest alone may be dangerous or unwise, and a surprising number of knights felt contempt towards Lucian, as foolish as it was. Arthur had no envy or ill towards Lucian, and he possessed a deal of respect for the man, whom he considered to be his friend and a good fellow-knight rather than someone he felt the need to surpass for the sake of his own ego. They were friends, after all. Unlike almost everyone else, interactions with Lucian didn't feel like a chore, making Lucian one of the rare people Arthur actually would've been willing to go on a quest with in the first place.

But perhaps they were getting ahead of themselves. The Queen had called for one knight, not two.

"Yes my Queen," Luc quickly bows his head. "I'm willing to accept any mission you shall give–"

"At least wait for me to give you the brief, Sir Lucian." The Queen holds up her hand, quickly silencing any sort of bumbling Luc might have been rambling about. "As you likely know, there's a war happening in my daughter's kingdom. She lives with her father in Ethel, though the kingdom of Ethel is quickly losing their land. The realm of Garracks is quickly gaining the upper-hand. They have more men, more artillery, more cavalry–it won't be long until Ethel falls to Garracks." Luc nods. Being a knight, of course he's heard of the conflict. He's fallen asleep occasionally wondering if they'll be called to assist in the effort–though Luc has no clue what side they'd even join. Ethel and their own kingdom of Astoria have been tense, yet friendly. The Queen wouldn't dare attack her daughter's kingdom, but they've known no effort to help them against Garracks. Well, until now.

"I need you, Sir Lucian, to travel to to Ethel to retrieve my daughter. It's no longer safe for her there."

"Your daughter?" Lucian repeats.

"Yes, the Crown Princess of Ethel." The Queen's stoney voice doesn't shift. "Her name is Calwin and she's already received word from me. Her father does not know of the rescue quest, and he should not be made aware of your presence. This should be a quick journey, supplied with everything you need. Once you return, you shall be rewarded with her hand in marriage."

All the breath leaves Luc's chest at once, but he masks it well with a smile. "Well, I'm honored, your majesty, but I'm afraid I would hate to go alone." He spares a brief look over his shoulder to Arthur, gesturing him forward. "I'm sure you know of Sir Arthur Galahad, after all, he was the runner up in our spar."

Arthur listened attentively to the Queen's words. The war, the princess, the rescue— all of it was serious business— and the Princess' hand in marriage as the reward? What an honor! And, yet, strangely, a wave of gratitude washed over him that he wasn't the one being offered such a thing. Perhaps it was that he felt unworthy or unfit, but the idea of marrying a princess he had never met— even the princess of his own revered Queen— did not appeal to him nearly as much as he imagined it would to someone else. But, surely, this would be a great honor for Lucian, marrying into the royal family, and undoubtedly to a strong and able woman, seeing that the princess was the Daughter of the Queen Herself. This was certainly a great thing, wasn't it?

He didn't have time to dwell on it before Lucian gestured for him. Apparently he really wasn't kidding about hoping for Arthur to come along. Arthur wasted no time and slowly approached. His body went rigid as he neared the Queen's throne.

"Your Majesty, it is an honor to face you. I apologize for any intrusion," Arthur greeted, bowing his head reverently. His tongue felt stiff, but he forced himself to speak slowly and calmly. "If it seems fit to you, I would be honored and willing to accompany Sir Lucian on the journey, to make sure both he and the Princess return safely." Logically, it made sense. Two knights were far better than one; they could watch each other's backs and defend one another in the instance of injury or attack. But what the hell was Arthur thinking, walking into the Queen's throne room like this, unbidden by her? He only hoped she wouldn't see it as a show of arrogance or irreverence.

The Queen's eyes narrow as Arthur readily approaches, but she says nothing. She only looks to Lucian for more explanation. "Two knights will always get a job faster than just one. There's less risk of my death, I'll be able to sleep with someone to trade watches with, and I won't go insane from chattering to myself." He offers what he hopes is a reassuring smile as he tries not to nervously clasp his hands together behind his back. "Arthur is a knight I would trust with my life."

For an agonizing moment, the Queen is silent as she studies both of the men. Never before has Luc felt so small–not when faced with a seven-foot bear of a man, not when injured severly in the midst of a thrumming battlefield. From the whiteness of her throne to the darkness of her skin, the sharp contrasts only add to the unease that bubbles and brews within the cavity of Luc's chest. She could say no. She could refuse and Luc would be forced to brave the path all the way to Ethel alone. He'll be mad by the time he returns. Hopefully, Calwin will see all the flaws within Luc (though there truly aren't many) and turn down the arranged reward of marriage. (Gods, the thought of marrying a woman he doesn't know causes his stomach to churn. Having the cold queen as a mother-in-law is highly a favorable situation.)

"Please." Luc tries.

After another long moment, the Queen takes a long breath and stands, descending the short staircase to stand above the kneeling men. "I expect your mission to be swift. If you desire, Sir Lucian, you may have Sir Arthur accompany you, but only if you leave by morning." Morning. That leaves half of a day to gather his belongings and arrange a fair share of rations with the palace chefs. "Be wary of the bandits that are rumored to stalk the paths, brave knights, I would hate for something horrid to happen to you." With that, the Queen turns her back and takes graceful steps towards the back exit. "You're dismissed. Be prepared by sunrise and report to the throne room for your departure. I'll have my advisors find an updated map for your travels."

Releasing a breath Luc never knew he was holding, the man practically deflates against Arthur's side as the Queen disappears, "Good lord, she's going to kill me with that frigid disposition."

Arthur cleared his throat and straightened himself, having becoming frozen and immobile under the weight of her stare. He double-checked to make sure she was out of earshot before he commented. "Tell me about it. I worried she would turn me to stone if I looked directly at her for too long," he mumbled— something he likely would not have said to another soul. He almost half-regretted having said it here, but— it wasn't like Lucian was going to tell anyone.

"I was beginning to think she was going to send you by yourself." Arthur turned to face Lucian, thinking of everything that had just happened. "She sees enough in you to send you after her own daughter. And to offer the girl's hand in marriage when you succeed. So you must have certainly impressed her," he offered, trying to throw in something reassuring or light-hearted after the chilling interaction with the Queen.

"You would think that she would be some sort of ice queen," Luc hisses as he grabs Arthur by the bicep to lead them out of the intimidating throne room. "At least she managed to listen to us. At least you get to come with me–it's almost like we're boys again, isn't it, Arthur? Dreaming of some quest to save an heir!" He swipes his arm through the air as if he can imagine it fully. Well, at least in his dreams it's not a maiden's hand he'd be earning. Maybe they could just be great friends. Nothing more. Nothing less. Luc is sure Princess Calwin is a kind individual. Luc's sure she's pleasant and admirable but she's still… well. She's…. a she. And there's that terrifying fact that's been lingering in the back of Luc's brain since adolescence. He always thought that he would be fine. Live as a bachelor until he got killed on the battlefield and nobody would think anything of it. They would weep at his grave whispering poor Luc, never got to marry and have children– while Luc would be cackling from beyond the grave, for he finally managed to evade the crushing societal norms that threaten to suffocate him.

But, well, this mission's going to be rough. Oh, why couldn't he have let Arthur win their spar? Why did it have to be Luc and his impeccable speed and fabulous hair–it should've been broad, bearish, heterosexual Arthur to win the princess's hand in marriage, not weasley, sunshine gay boy Luc. Maybe the Queen somehow knew of where his affections lay–maybe this is all one big, grand scheme to get him to conform–

But that. That's ridiculous. Why would the Queen want anything to do with Luc's private, nonexistent love life? It's as if Luc blinks and he's in the barracks, standing before his comfortable bunk that he's spent the last seven years sleeping in. It's a lofted bed with a fine wooden desk beneath it. On the table's surface is a bundle of books and writings that he would always entertain himself with in the late nights via candlelight. Luckily, his three roommates (one of which, his lovely friend Arthur) have never minded Luc's hobbies. They've always been politely disinterested, only occasionally voicing an urge to know what he's writing.

"When did we get here?" Luc murmurs to himself, finally releasing Arthur's bicep in favor of unlatching his chest. "I must've zoned out for the entire walk here." Lost in his thoughts… it happens occasionally. Luc's imagination gets away from him and the real world seems to skip forward until he finally comes to his senses. "Arthur." Leaving the latch to his chest wide open, Luc turns around. "Arthur, I don't think I want to marry the Queen's daughter." He says the fact as simply and plainly as he knows how. "But how am I supposed to even refuse such a prize? The son-in-law of the Queen? Please, Arthur, she'll kill me! Or well, she might as well kill me for declining her generous reward–"

(The way you write is genuinely so good and satisfying to read)

Arthur stared at Lucian, his eyes wide and brows slightly raised. Lucian didn't want to marry the Queen's daughter? But why? Was it the Queen's coldness and idea of being a part of her family? Perhaps a fear that her daughter had a similar iciness about her? Arthur, himself, could think of plenty of reasons why he wouldn't want the offer, but— why not Lucian? Unlike Arthur, Lucian had the charisma, the popularity, the charm, the looks— everything one could ask for in the perfect candidate to marry into the royal family. Why would he pass up an opportunity like this? Certainly it wasn't the reaction he'd expected.

An old scene replayed in Arthur's head. Several years ago. Him and his father in a heated exchange over a lady Arthur never loved and never would.
"She's a nice girl, Arthur. Pretty, too. And comes from a good family. And she's interested in you."
"I can't."
"Why the hell not?"
"I don't know." Arthur's voice was calm, empty. "I just can't."

"Then don't marry her," Arthur said, the words rolling off of his tongue, surprising himself. "I'm sure the Queen won't be too happy if you turn down her offer, but we'll wait until after you've rescued the Princess. As cold as she is, surely the Queen won't kill the man who saved her daughter, even if he does turn down the princess' hand in marriage." What was he doing? Advocating for Lucian to turn down a direct offer from the Queen? It was a privilege— an honor— that most people would have given anything to have, and here Arthur was, telling Lucian to decline it? Yes. Apparently so. Whatever it took to get this tangible weight off of Lucian's shoulders.

"It's a big decision, Lucian," Arthur added on. "You'll have the whole journey to think it through. Maybe you will change your mind when you meet the Princess. But if you don't… we'll figure out some sort of solution to convince the Queen not to go through with the marriage arrangement." He said this, partly, to reassure himself that there would surely be an answer to the problem, something that could be done to get Lucian off the hook. It bothered him to think of his friend being pulled into a lifelong arrangement that would only leave him miserable. "But for now, we only have a little time to prepare for our adventure. That much, we can't back out of." He patted Lucian's shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "We should focus on one thing at a time, my friend."

(omg thank you alkdsjf theyre just so silly and luc is an overdramatic bastard)

Luc stops suddenly at Arthur's words, not even registering that he had been pacing back and forth. "Just as simple as that, don't marry her?" Luc's hands go up to his hair, pulling on it just slightly before patting it back down into its usual place. Everything feels tight and warm and god, Luc can't marry this woman–Luc's fingers go straight to the buckles on his armor, pulling at the straps until they fall into a loose pile at his feet. He nearly trips over his breastplate as he stumbles to get his iron boots off. The dozens of hinges across the toes and ankles get caught on his shoes beneath and nearly send Luc falling into the wooden post of his lofted bed. Finally free from his metallic armor, Luc stands up straight in his simple blue and gray clothing, hair mussed and far from his usual elegant self. "I am going to have a crisis over something I've wanted my entire life."

A quest, that is. Not marriage. Marriage has always been entirely out of the question ever since he knew he had eyes. He had been, what, eight years old and first enrolled to become the newest page in the kingdom. A tall, broad knight wearing the kingdom's crest had walked by, his face a little red and sweaty from training, but he had the most beautiful eyes and smile. Luc never learned the man's name, he just knew he perished at war only a few months later, by the time Luc had become a squire. Luc doesn't even know what Calwin even looks like! Does she enjoy poetry and music (none of which would be written about her) or the occasional jig when the whimsy strikes him. Does she have an ugly laugh? Is she allergic to peanuts? God, there are so many what ifs and Luc is half tempted just to throw himself onto his bed and scream a little.

Instead, however, he turns back to his open chest and digs out his large leather satchel that fits his favorite horse especially well. "I assume that our belongings won't be backing themselves, will they, Arthur?" Luc tries for a light hearted jest as he pushes away his internal crisis in favor of a much more menial task. "We'll need a change of clothes, enough rations from the kitchens, sugar cubes for Daphne, a few extra daggers in case you lose any–" Luc sighs and drops a bundle of clothes onto his desk. "How are you feeling about this?" Luc turns to Arthur, the reality of the other man's presence really just now setting in. "I just… I just sort of dragged you into this without really, erm, asking you." Luc almost shuffles nervously.

(I would watch a tv show about them in a heartbeat)

Arthur stood in place and observed as Lucian went about taking off his armor and having some sort of episode. Still fully clad in his own armor, Arthur only offered a slight, closed smile at Lucian’s question— something he didn’t do often, but just enough to remind everyone he actually could have a personality when the moment was right.

“I wasn’t expecting to get sent out on a quest today, but I like having something important to do,” he admitted. “So I’m in good spirits.” Even though he hadn’t been personally picked by the Queen to go, the fact that she and Lucian had both still opted to include him made him feel at least somewhat important. He didn’t really have anything to particularly base his value on in life except for his performance as a knight— as far as he could tell, it was his only redeeming quality— so being allowed on such an important task of rescuing the Queen’s own daughter gave him some sense of value.

Arthur walked over to his own area and began to unhurriedly remove his own heavy armor. It occurred to him that things would be a lot different between himself and Lucian if Lucian were to accept the marriage arrangement. Despite Lucian’s obvious anxiety about it now, he’d have a lot of time to think about it, and perhaps even decide that it was what he wanted to do with his life. Maybe he would come to love the Princess between there and here.

Arthur glanced over his shoulder at Lucian before returning to his armor. Would Lucian change his mind? If he did, this adventure would be their last one before Lucian married into the nobility and they hardly saw each other anymore. The thought dampened his mood.

Arthur tensed as his chest plate dropped to the floor with a loud metallic thud.

(omg i'm sorry the holidays hit me like a brick)

Trying to hold in his most melodramatic sighs, Luc opts for sighing as he debates which songbook to take with him. Of course, he could take both but that would take up the room where rations could go. Or a knife. Or maybe some sort of space he can leave for Calwin's handkerchief when she presents it fabulously or whatever maidens do when a burly knight comes to save her from a hulking dragon–wait, there's no dragon. Right? There should be no dragon. A detail that important could've possibly slipped the Queen's mind. There's no dragon, Luc reminds himself over and over again as he finally decides on the second songbook. (He has both of them memorized.)

"There's no rumors of any dragons, right?" Luc absolutely has to ask aloud because Arthur will ground him with rare smiles and firm reassurances. That's always what Arthur has been to Luc's frantic flying–a rock, a tether, a solid hand to help him keep his feet on the ground. A mountain of a man to Luc's fleeting breeze. The earth and the air. The rocks and the wind. Hell, even just turning to his fine friend is enough to calm his racing heart. Damn his mind for planting spiraling seeds. This is a quest! God, Luc should be dancing with joy instead of mentally beating himself over the head with a stick for winning that stupid spar. He should be singing and writing a new melody and already planning which routes would be the most fun to take through the tangle of forest between here and Ethel. He should be doing literally anything beside trying not to cry and drown himself in the drinking well.

(no need to apologize!! I hope you had a great Christmas)

“Huh? Dragon?” Arthur had to repeat the question to make sure he heard it right, arching a brow at Lucian. Was he— Lucian, the ever-unbothered— really having that much anxiety about this whole ordeal? It was an important mission, but from the way the Queen spoke there were no major enemies to fight them when they went to secure the Princess. Certainly no dragon. That was why two knights were enough. Right?

“I wish,” Arthur replied as he peeled off the rest of his armor, leaving him in his unremarkable dark gray and reddish-brown clothes underneath. “I bet that would be a legendary battle. But, unfortunately, no. The Queen made no mention of a dragon.” He stopped what he was doing and stared at Lucian for several seconds, brows pinching together as he tried to read and understand what could be going on in his friend’s head. Basic anxiety around marrying the princess— even a downright disinterest in it— would make sense. But Lucian generally wasn’t one to become so unwound… and before the quest had even started, at that!

“Whatever you’re worried about— the Princess, the dragons, or the absence of dragons—“ Arthur paused, trying to figure out what it was he was trying to say. Another reason he didn’t like to talk much— sometimes his words tended to get jumbled. “You can handle it. You’re the best of us all, and I’ll have your back.”

Arthur moved on to grabbing a worn out leather satchel and opening it up to get a visual of how much space it had. Pretty roomy— plenty enough for him, as he tended to pack minimally. “Surely it’s nothing beyond the two of us.”

(asdklf yeah it was pretty great!! I hope yours was great too!!)

Luc sighs, already relaxing as Arthur gives him small reassurances. "This really shouldn't be effecting me as much as it is," he admits, hanging his head and letting his perfect blond hair drift lifelessly around his face. "I've always wanted a quest–I've been dreaming of it since I was a boy–" He brushes his hair back and studies Arthur for a moment. "I think… well, I think if the reward wasn't so… god, sudden? I'm not ready for marriage, Arthur? I'm not ready to marry into any sort of royalty? I'm not meant for kingly duties? I don't even have the approval of our fellow knights, how am I supposed to win the support of an entire country?" He waves his hand before sarcastically bursting into a small set of rhythmic steps. "What am I supposed to do, sing them a ballad and dance a jig and then I'm suddenly their court jester?" With a defeated sigh, he shoves a pair set of clothes into his bag along with his second songbook.

"I think… I think this is why I need you on this trip with me." The admission takes a moment to break free. "I can't do this alone, Arthur, especially with this kind of prize on the line. I need you to…" To make sure I don't do anything stupid. To make sure I don't purposefully fail. To make sure I don't go picking fights just for the sake of fighting– "To keep me on track. You know how my mind wanders sometimes. Also, who else am I supposed to bounce my ideas off of?" An easy smile makes its way to his face, melting away any sort of fright or concern that could've previously occupied his expression. Putting on a show, right? That's what Luc's always been good at. "Do you want to go check on our horses? I think they might need to be prepped before dawn. We also should stop by the kitchens and ask for some rations." The chefs are always more than willing to give Luc a little extra on his plate if he smiles extra wide. Plus, Luc just needs to be away from this room. He doesn't think that it's doing anything to help his spiralling thoughts.

Arthur carefully packed a few messily folded changes of clothes into his satchel. "Yeah. It'll only take me a minute to pack. I'm not taking much." He glanced around the room, going through a mental checklist as he tried to think of anything else he could possibly need. Aside from clothes, rations, and the supplies needed for their horses— as well as the obvious armor and weapons he'd be carrying on his person— what else would Arthur himself really have need for? And, as he said, it took him only a few minutes to get together any loose odds-and-ends he would want to bring along.

"All right," he said after a moment. "The horses, then. I'll check on them now. Are you coming along, or are you going to get rations first?"

Luc raises an eyebrow as he contemplates exactly where he wants to go first. On one hand, the kitchen staff would likely appreciate the early notice but Luc knows how lonely his beloved mare gets when she's not visited by midday. Well, he supposes that she can wait just another hour while they stop by the kitchen. He slings his packed bag over the railing of his bunk and straightens his hair one last time in the mirror long overdue for a clean. Knowing their other two roommates won't do it, Luc might just go into a cleaning frenzy in the middle of the night to try to take his mind off the best and worst thing to ever happen to him in the history of ever. "Kitchen?" Luc asks, voice pitched slightly high with the sheer nerves of the scenario, which is entirely odd because he has never known himself to be nervous ever. (Well, there was that one time with the handsome barkeep when he was out on a mission. He took to the stage and sang his favorite ballad and they made eye contact quite the number of times. Hell, Luc will still get butterflies when he thinks of the man's smile.) "I think it would be smart to go there first, and then we can go to our horses. Pick up the food in the morning before we leave, right?"

Before he can get himself more upset than he already is, he grabs Arthur's arm in a familiar gesture and leads him out of their small barrack, passing their two roommates finally returning from the field. Luc offers his best smile to Rhys and Marcellus, but it hardly feels entirely genuine. It's barely afternoon when Luc looks to the sky, squinting at the sun's bright light. "So, Arthur, any meals you'll ask for specifically?" Of course Luc is making small talk, god. He used to shudder at the thought of it, but now it seems to be the only promise to prevent him from drowning in his own mind. "I think some jerky will last us, but it's hardly the most appetizing provision." Running his mouth, because he doesn't know what else to do, Luc continues. "Of course, I think I'll request a thermos of that fine chicken soup that Gilda makes for us every second Friday. She can be a prickly one, but I think that I can get through to her." It's far from the second Friday, and Luc knows that his charm hardly works on the hard-ass chef known as Gilda, but a man can dream. He's going to keep his optimism, damnit, even though he's facing the option of certain death or–the worse option–a permanent relationship with not only a woman, but the heir to the ice queen's throne. Luc represses his shudder with a smile. "I know you're a hearty one, so I'm sure Gilda will give us extra meat." He punches Arthur's bicep and cringes at the sheer awkwardness of the situation.