Alistair + Eamon, procrastination
He knew, deep within his heart, that he was suppose to be working. That these papers didn't fill themselves out; that, as King, it was his responsibility to make sure these things happened.
But Maker, he didn't want to.
Which was why Eamon found him at his desk, playing with his figurines.
The Chancellor dropped the papers he was carrying.
"Alistair!" Eamon shrieked. "What are you doing? Aren't you supposed to be working?"
Alistair groaned. "Come on, Eamon! I work all the time!"
"Alistair, I did not help put you on this throne just for you to goof off and ignore your responsibilities—"
"I'm not ignoring my responsibilities!" The young King argued. "I'm just...putting them off. For the moment."
Eamon glared.
"You could—join me? You know, take the afternoon off?"
When Isolde actually found her husband, he was with the King, reenacting the Orlesian war with figurines on top of very important papers.
It was, Eamon figured, an afternoon well-spent.