Finally got around to updating this, heh. I have so many projects running that this was pushed aside. And updates will likely be slow.
The title of this chapter comes from the first sentence of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.
When Arthur woke, he realised that he was curled up on something cold, hard and flat. He also seemed to be in a lot of pain, as if he had fallen over. Perhaps he had passed out after drinking too much. Again. Hopefully, he was close to his flat.
Resisting the urge to groan, he sat up and rubbed at his face. Odd. He didn't have the usual pounding headache and nausea from doing that. Yawning, he opened his eyes. They widened as they took in his surroundings.
He was in a room made of stone. Tapestries and wall hangings provided decoration and reminded him of Japanese-style paintings. Sun streamed through clean, tall windows illuminating the two beds situated there. Both looked a little bigger than singles but not quite doubles and both were high off the ground, covers draped over them. A black screen decorated with delicately painted pink petals stood in a corner. Beside it was a wash basin, a cloth hanging over the side of it. A bar of soap sat on the small unit beside it. The mirror was full length and could swivel: it stood by the door as if to give the occupants a chance to look over their appearance one last time before exiting. Two packs sat, crumpled, on the ground beside each bed. Two chairs sat beside the beds: one was empty but the other had armour, a sword and a cape messily sitting on it. A pair of boots was nestled underneath it, out of the way.
There was a sudden shuffling noise and a groan as something moved on one of the beds. Hesitantly, Arthur pulled himself to his feet and took a peek. Curled on his side, snuggling under the soft quilt, lay Alfred. His hair was a mess and he was frowning as he tried to go back to sleep. Arthur sighed and shook him slightly as the memories of the past couple of days returned to him.
"Mm, no," whined Alfred. "Go 'way, Franny. You are 'orrible."
"I'm not Francis," Arthur told him, shaking him again.
Alfred seemed to freeze. Then, so suddenly that Arthur jumped back, Alfred surged upwards. "W-Wha-? Oh! Arthur!" Again, there was movement and Arthur found himself in a tight hug.
"L-Let go, you idiot! You're crushing me!"
"Ah. Sorry." Alfred let go and rested back on his heels. He was wearing a faded, white nightshirt, Arthur noticed. Then Alfred frowned, running his eyes up and down Arthur's body. "We are going to have to find better clothes for you."
Arthur looked down at himself. He was wearing a shirt and cotton vest along with a pair of black trousers. His smart, black shoes were a little scuffed from work but he thought he looked acceptable. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" he protested, indignant, hands on his hips.
"Well, no-one in this world wears something like that." Alfred pondered for a moment. "I could give you some of my clothes, if you'd like. Or I can ask Sakura for some..."
"I don't think that's a good idea. That would advertise that I came here without clothes."
For some reason, Alfred blushed at that but nodded. "Yes. Good point." He slipped off the bed (his nightshirt rode up and Arthur had to quickly look away) and made his way to one of the packs. Opening it, Alfred pulled out a plain, white shirt with a v-neck, laces keeping it shut. Next came a pair of rough, brown breeches. Lastly, he pulled out a spare pair of boots.
"Those won't fit me."
"Oh. Yes. We will have to buy you a pair from the city."
Arthur frowned at that. "Is that such a good idea?" he inquired. "Won't people notice?"
"I doubt it. People keep themselves to themselves." He paused and added, "Mostly."
"Right. Well. Excuse me." Arthur went behind the screen and quickly pulled off the clothes he was wearing. Then he tugged on the breeches (which were rather itchy) and pulled on the shirt (which was surprisingly soft in comparison to the trousers). After he had pulled on his shoes again, he emerged from the screen – and yelped in surprise.
Apparently, Alfred had decided to get dressed while Arthur was hidden from view. So far, he had gotten his trousers and boots on – but was in no hurry to put on his shirt. His muscled chest was in full view and Arthur could only gape. He had never imagined Alfred to look so incredibly hot. Well, he had imagined it but it was definitely better in reality, insofar as this was considered reality.
"Oh," said Alfred. "Sorry. I thought I would be finished before you."
"A-Ah?" Arthur stammered, wondering what else to say to that and where to put himself. He was sure the temperature of the room had increased several degrees.
Not seeming to notice, Alfred pulled on a shirt and sat to begin pulling on his boots. It was not a moment too soon as the door was thrown open and a man waltzed in. He had long, blond hair and blue eyes. His jaw was stubbled and his clothes were of fine materials and perfectly arranged on his body. A huge smile was on his face.
"Alfred, mon ami!" the man declared as he approached the knight. That was when Arthur realised who it was: Sir Francis, the knight that had a friendly rivalry with Alfred. Arthur grimaced and hoped he wouldn't spot him. "Have you slept well?"
"Um, yes, I suppose I did," Alfred answered, glancing at Arthur.
Quickly, Arthur shook his head, trying to make Alfred look away. Unfortunately, Francis was quicker and he turned to look at what Alfred was peeking at. Upon seeing Arthur, his eyes widened. Then he chuckled.
"Now, Alfred. This is interesting. You brought someone back to your room?"
"It's not like that!" Arthur exclaimed, immediately knowing what he was getting at.
"He is right. That is not why he is here," Alfred told Francis, frowning at him. "He is a bard."
That took a moment to sink in but, when it did, Arthur said, "What?" at the same time as Francis said, "Quoi?"
Shrugging, Alfred pulled on a boot. "He is a bard," he repeated. "He is going to come with us. Well, with me, anyway."
"Huh," said Francis, looking Arthur over.
"Hm." Arthur hoped that sounded as if he was agreeing.
Francis stepped towards Arthur and bowed low, throwing an arm out and making it look more flamboyant. "Hello, fair bard. My name is Francis. It is a pleasure to meet you." He reached for Arthur's hand, presumably to kiss it, but Arthur held his hands out of reach. "May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"
"Arthur," he answered, eyeing Francis warily.
"Such a regal name. Are you a prince?"
"Not the last time I checked," Arthur replied, dryly.
"Hey, Francis," Alfred interrupted them. "Is Sakura still around?"
"I do believe so. Why?"
"Oh, I want her to meet Arthur. I expect she will be enamoured with him." Alfred grinned at them.
"Surely she won't." Arthur frowned at them. "She loves the prince she is betrothed to, right?"
The two knights looked at each other. Alfred shrugged. "Yes but she loves to meet new people. She also... has a thing for accents?" He winked at Arthur who frowned in response.
"Francis has more of an accent than I do."
"She has gotten used to mine, ami." He gave Alfred and Arthur a knowing look.
"Hmm." Arthur had the feeling that they were messing with him, somehow. "Well, if we're going, we'd best go, yes?"
"Oui!" Francis declared. "This way."
They exited the room and Arthur took the opportunity to look around. All of the walls were made of stone, thick and impenetrable. Strategically placed hangings broke up the monotony with beautiful floral patterns and landscapes of calming scenery. Antique vases were set upon small, spindly tables. A servant or two hurried by: they looked at Arthur, curious, but went on their way. Wooden doors were passed by – some ajar, others closed, one with a couple of guards standing to either side and glaring at them.
Alfred dropped back to talk to Arthur in a hushed tone. "You are going to meet the king first, likely. There is not much to remember except to bow when we enter and leave. If he invites you to tea, you will have to drink it." The knight grimaced at that.
"I like tea," Arthur assured him. "That won't be a problem."
"Then you are ready to meet him."
At that, Arthur started to panic a little as they stopped before a set of doors: they were red with golden filigree while black paint depicted a dragon. Arthur gulped. It wasn't as if he had tea with the Queen on a regular basis. What was he supposed to say? And, now that he thought about, shouldn't he have a cover story? "Wait-" he managed to say before the knights opened the doors.
There was nothing to do but follow Alfred and Francis inside. The two knights made their way to the middle of the room and bowed. Not looking up, Arthur rushed after them and did the same, almost overdoing it in his haste and toppling over. When they stood again, Arthur firmly kept his gaze to the floor, just in case he would offend someone by looking at the royal.
"It is a beautiful morning, Your Majesty," said Alfred, cheerfully.
"Indeed it is," said the king. His voice was smooth and a little higher pitched than he had expected. The king was not mentioned too much in the books and Arthur had had no idea what to expect.
"We were wondering if we could see Sakura... Sakura-heem? Heema?"
"Sakura-hime," Arthur provided, seeing as he had had to ask Kiku how to say it. The author seemed intent on putting little bits of others' cultures into the fictional land he had created. Though, it wasn't exactly fictional any more...
There was a heavy pause. Arthur couldn't hear anyone breathing. Then the king spoke again. "Who is this? Why is he in my castle?"
"Ah," said Alfred. "This is Arthur. He is our new friend – a bard."
"Really?" Another short silence. "Arthur the Bard," the king said, making Arthur tense. "Raise your head. I wish to look at you."
Hesitantly, Arthur did as he was bid and took the opportunity to look the man over. He had long black hair tied into a ponytail and draped over one shoulder. His dark eyes looked Arthur over. Atop his head was a tall, cream hat – his version of a crown, Arthur knew – and his robes matched it. The sleeves were long enough to hide his hands, something which had been said to unnerve his enemies. It was said that he could defeat his enemy with merely a spoon: such was the legend of King Yao.
Narrowing his eyes, Yao said, "Green eyes."
When nothing else was said, Arthur decided to speak up. "Um. Begging your pardon, sir – Your Majesty – but... Is there something wrong with green eyes?"
Yao stared at him for a minute. "Only figuratively."
"I... see," Arthur mumbled.
"Now," said Yao, turning back to the knights, "you said you wished to see my daughter?"
"Indeed," Francis admitted. "We were wondering how she was faring after the wolf-man incident."
"I shall send for her." Yao nodded to the edge of the room where a servant had been standing. The man scampered away, hurrying out of the room.
In the silence that followed, Arthur took a moment to survey the room. Drapes and curtains were artfully placed to cover the room, giving the plain space colour and decoration. Two dragon tapestries sat at either side of the throne. That itself was not a high backed chair as Arthur had imagined – rather, it looked like something from Ancient Rome. The chair looked like a stool, two stumpy armrests curling up from the cushion. There were two steps onto the dais and a mat to the side of the throne for someone to kneel upon.
Alfred began to fidget, swaying backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet. Francis seemed to be well versed in ignoring him but Arthur stared.
More silence. Finally, King Yao snapped. "Can you still not stand still, boy?!"
"Sorry!" Alfred squeaked and ceased his movements.
This time, the silence was strained. It was as though three men were waiting for the fourth to begin being an annoyance again. They didn't need to wait long as Alfred began to shift his weight from one foot to the other. Yao threw his arms up in exasperation but quickly had them folded before his sleeves revealed his hands.
Eventually, they were spared further torment by the appearance of Princess Sakura. She wore pink robes, much like a kimono from Earth. However, it was made with some sort of material which made it swish and float as she walked. Her short dark hair had been bobbed and her dark eyes roved over the guests. When she spotted Arthur, her eyes widened. Arthur stared right back – he had often thought that the description of Sakura could be substituted for Kiku's. In fact, a lot of the time, he was thinking of Kiku with breasts. Now, though, he saw that she was more feminine but Arthur could still see that she could be mistaken for Kiku's sister.
"Good morning, Father. Good morning, everyone," she said, politely bowing. She then settled herself on the mat, kneeling so she faced the room.
"Hello, Sakura," said Alfred with a smile. Yao grunted and he quickly added, "Heema."
"Hime," muttered Arthur.
"Ah, yeah, I mean... heem-ay?"
Arthur sighed in exasperation. Turning to the young woman, he bowed deeply. "Good morning, Your Highness. It is an honour to meet you. I have been told many great things about you."
"You have?" Sakura asked, a smile pulling at her lips. She blinked owlishly at him for a moment and he realised she was looking for an answer.
"Y-Yes. They say you are as beautiful as the flowers in the wind and as clever as a fox. They say you are compassionate and kind-hearted and that you will make a wonderful Queen for-" He broke off, searching his memory for the name of her intended. "For Prince Herakles."
Sakura giggled cutely and Arthur felt his cheeks heating. "Why, thank you, mysterious stranger. What is your name?"
"I am Arthur."
"The Bard," Alfred interjected.
"Ah, a bard. I will wish you well on your journey. No doubt Sir Alfred will provide a lot of interesting stories." She looked between them, seemingly happy with the arrangement.
"Indeed," said Arthur and, for some reason, found himself bowing again.
"Dear princess," Francis said, suddenly. "May we inquire as to your health this fine day?"
"I am fine," Sakura insisted. "There is no need to fret. I shall be fit for the ball next week, my doctor tells me. Will you two be there?"
"Of course!" Alfred exclaimed. "I cannot pass up the chance for free food."
Again, Sakura giggled. "Good. I was hoping that you could dance with Daisy. And Monika will be visiting then, as well, so Francis could dance with her."
"Then who will dance with you, chérie?"
"Arthur could, if he is willing?"
Blinking, Arthur took a moment to respond. "O-Oh! Yes. But... I'm not a noble. Wouldn't it be rather improper to have me dancing with you."
"Father will not mind. Right, my King?" Sakura turned to Yao.
"If you are a friend of Alfred, then I suppose I shall allow it," Yao responded. "Though, if you try anything..."
"I won't!" Arthur was quick to assure him.
"Well, if you are going to attend the ball," said Alfred, "we should go find you something to wear! Shopping trip, Francis!"
"Ah, oui! I shall attend!"
"Now, wait just a-" Arthur began. However, before he could finish protesting, Alfred and Francis had made their way to the doors of the throne room. Arthur looked back up at the Royals: Yao appeared unimpressed and Sakura was hiding her amusement behind her hand. "Ah, er," he said, bowed, and rushed after his companions, cursing them for leaving him behind.
They exited the castle through towering, crystal doors. A portcullis was the only protection and had been drawn up to allow ease of access. Guards saluted Alfred and Francis as they passed and peered at Arthur as though trying to figure out if they had seen him before. Arthur tried not to look nervous.
Outside was a courtyard covered in wooden planks. Where there were none, flowerbeds resided. They contained rockeries or shrubs or lovely little plants which were in full flower. Several of them, however, connected with a central fountain which pushed water from an urn and let it run down a complicated system which allowed a stream to run off around the side of the castle. To one side sat a large stable; horses could be heard whinnying and stamping their hooves. Beyond the scenery were the large, wooden gates attached the the thick, stone walls. Guards paced upon it in precise steps to a precise rhythm, each step accurately timed. They were dressed in shining armour with pointed helmets and sharp spears. A few of the stationary ones had crossbows.
Francis and Alfred took a path which forced them to hop over the stream. Stepping stones had evidently been placed for exactly that purpose. Arthur followed much more cautiously and had to jog to catch up with them afterwards. When he did, he realised they were arguing about where to go first.
"I tell you, Elizaveta's is the best place to go. Everything is cheap and he can get some sort of armour." Alfred paused. "And a sword, I suppose."
"Nonsense. He needs somewhere with a bit more class than that," Francis protested. "We are attending a ball, not a tournament."
"He still needs protection when he comes with us on an adventure."
Laughing, Francis shook his head. "Bards tend to stay at a distance: he won't be in any danger."
"Regardless, he needs a sword in case he is ambushed."
"Um," said Arthur as they reached the gates. "I don't know how to use a sword. And... would it be likely that I would be attacked if I was alone?"
Alfred nodded. "It depends on the area."
"Ah," said Arthur. What else could he say to that?
After passing through the entranceway, Arthur looked around. A lot of white buildings were clustered around the area before the castle. Each was the size of a small mansion and Arthur stared at them. Walls separated them from the roads but, as they passed, Arthur caught glimpses of carriages and people in fancy clothes. He decided that it must be a residential district, one for the nobles of the city.
The next set of buildings were just as large but had no perimeter. In fact, there were people sitting around on the steps leading up to one of them. It had pillars at its entrance and a word carved into the marble above it: JUSTICE. The court system and what passed for a police station, then.
Next were smaller houses and children playing in the streets. Carts and horses passed by, some of the riders sneering down at the people on foot. A dog ran by, catching Arthur off guard – he almost toppled over. Thankfully, he kept his balance and caught up with his guides once more.
Finally, they reached an open area lined with buildings, signs above the doors. They all seemed to have items on display outside. Stalls had been set up around the fountain in the middle of the cobbled area – it was shaped like an elegant swan about to take flight. There was a lot more noise, people calling on each other to buy whatever they were selling. The smell of food caught Arthur's attention: his stomach rumbled from the lack of a breakfast. Unfortunately, the other two were too busy arguing to notice, it seemed.
Deciding that they would likely be able to find him, Arthur slipped away, stopping at the nearest stall which a scrumptious smell was wafting from. What appeared to be an assortment of dumplings – some fried, others boiled – were laid out with little signs in a language Arthur couldn't read. The numbers beneath, however, obviously indicated the price.
"You buying?" asked the wrinkled old woman behind the stall. Her skin was brown with age and the sun and she peered at him with suspicious, dark eyes.
"Oh, I'm sorry," said Arthur, shaking his head. "I have no money. I was just looking to see what you were selling. Awfully sorry for being a bother." He turned to move on but was immediately called back. Confused, he looked at her.
"Here," she said and quickly handed over a paper bag.
"Wha-?"
"Do not tell. Now, go. Go." She shooed him away and Arthur hurried off, picking a random direction to move in. He realised he was heading towards the fountain so he waited until he had sat on the edge of it to open the bag and sate his curiosity.
Within it, he found several dumplings. He couldn't understand why she had given them to him without money but the smell was enticing so he was quick to pull one out. Taking a bite, he moaned a little: it was amazing, even more so for his hunger. Around five minutes later, Arthur found himself at the bottom of the bag.
"Oops," he murmured. He had intended to keep a few for Alfred and Francis.
"You look like you enjoyed that," said a voice beside him. Arthur jumped and turned to find Alfred and Francis standing nearby. Alfred looked relieved and Francis seemed amused.
"Um. Yeah. I was hungry," Arthur admitted.
"I hope you did not steal that," Alfred said, frowning at him.
"Of course not!" protested Arthur, scowling.
"Well, let us not dwell on this. Come, we must go to Elizaveta's."
Rising, Arthur folded the bag and shoved it into a pocket for disposal later. Then again, there had never been anything in the books about waste disposal methods so he wasn't sure what he would be doing with it. Alfred and Francis moved off and Arthur followed them to a shop in the corner of the square. Swords hung on a rack in front of one window. On the other side of the door were a variety of dresses.
They entered and a woman with long, flowing, brown hair glanced up from where she stood at the counter. A pink flower was tucked behind her ear which did little to keep her hair from falling in front of her face. She wore a dirty white shirt and a pair of grey dungarees. Grinning, she raised a hand in welcome. "Alfred! Francis! And... oh! Is this a new one to add to your travelling band?"
"Indeed it is. This is Arthur," Alfred said, pulling Arthur forward and into the limited lighting within the shop. It was actually more of a blacksmith's forge than a shop; a huge fire at the far end of the room provided the most light. An anvil sat before it upon which rested tools for beating the metal into shape. Swords, spears and arrow heads were prominent throughout the store but, in another corner, was a loom and sewing equipment. Dresses and rather elegant suits hung from a railing separated from the smoke of the forge by a glass wall.
The woman herself had only been in a few of the Corrinia books. Apparently, she felt her clothes rivalled that of someone called Roderich – someone to only be mentioned. They were rather beautiful but also practical. The swords and armour were her true calling but she sometimes enjoyed the 'peace of making clothes' compared to the smithing work. And, every time she appeared, she would make strange comments to Alfred, as if she knew one of his secrets.
"Oho! He is a handsome one!"
"Ah. Thank you," said Arthur, politely, eyeing her strong arms. He had no doubt that she could take him out with one blow.
"What are you here for today? More armour? A new sword?" Elizaveta seemed eager to please and Arthur relaxed.
"We need to find Arthur a weapon or two. He is our bard on our next journey. And he may need armour." Alfred glanced at him and Arthur raised an eyebrow at him. "Perhaps something light to allow him to run if needs be. Some additional clothes would also be quite helpful."
"Splendid!" cried Elizaveta, excitedly. She clapped her hands together and came around the counter. "Let me just measure you, then. Come this way."
Arthur followed her to the corner where she had left her sewing and weaving things. Without any hesitation or shame, Elizaveta grabbed a measuring tape and began to measure everything. A few times she got a little too close to certain areas for Arthur's comfort but he assured himself that it was necessary. As she worked, she wrote down the measurements on a piece of already used parchment. Her writing was hardly better than a scribble and Arthur couldn't understand it.
"So," she said as she measured Arthur's head (even though he didn't recall a helmet or hat being part of the request), "what has made you want to follow these two on their journeys."
Quickly, Arthur tried to think of a suitable reason which wasn't that he had been pulled to Corrinia from another world by a process he wasn't sure he quite understood. He was sure that would get him labelled as crazy. "Oh, I've heard a lot about Sir Alfred and I was hoping I would meet him one day. When I did and told him all I knew, he invited me along on an adventure for a more accurate story."
"Ooh, that sounds exciting!" said Elizaveta. "I would love to join Alfred on his journeys but..." She pouted a little as she dropped the measuring tape onto the table. "My business would take a hit if I went anywhere."
"Surely you could take a holiday?" Arthur suggested. "Maybe for a week or so. You could leave a note saying that you're leaving to go find out about new techniques for your swords or-"
"I cannot," Elizaveta said, determination burning in her eyes. "I must beat Roderich at his own game. Did you know that he said my clothes were slipshod and had 'no finesse'?" Huffing, she tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Ha! I will show him that I can do just as well as he can."
Curious, Arthur asked, "Er. Is there a reason for this rivalry?"
At that, Elizaveta paused and thought. "No. Not really. Just a bit of fun, really." She grinned at him before heading off to the room with clothes. "You are in luck today, my friend! I made several clothes for a young man staying in town for a few days. He only took a few and I kept the rest, just in case, and they are the perfect fit for you."
"Wow. That's... horribly coincidental," Arthur said, frowning. He had thought being in Corrinia would be more realistic but, apparently, it was just as story-like as the books. Convenient tools lying around to assist the heroes escaping a prison, overhearing an evil plot... Arthur wondered if he could use that to his advantage.
"Is it not so?" Elizaveta agreed, pulling out a few shirts and breeches. "I do not have a changing room as Roderich's shop does but feel free to bring them back if they are not to your satisfaction – Roderich cannot give you such a deal."
"Thank you," said Arthur, genuinely.
"Well, next is the armour. We will have to put you in it to make sure that it fits. Loose armour would not be good, would it?"
"Oh... no," agreed Arthur, automatically.
Going over to a stack of armour plates, Elizaveta shifted things around. Finally, she turned to Arthur with some chainmail. It glimmered in the firelight. He raised his eyebrows as she skipped over to him. "Now, I don't usually make chainmail since it takes so long and I get a lot of requests so this is the only one in the shop at the moment."
Arthur's eyes widened and he backed off, shaking his head. "N-No! I can't-"
"Sure you will. I have the feeling this will come in handy for you. Besides, since it is Alfred, I will give you a good deal."
From the front of the shop came a whoop. "Yes! Discounted goods! You are the best, Elizaveta!"
The woman giggled. "Wait until we are sure it fits him. Otherwise we will need to get you some leather protection."
"Right..." said Arthur, slowly.
"Just slip it over your shirt, dear."
Taking the chainmail, Arthur was surprised at how light it seemed. He had been expecting it to be heavy – he had been to medieval exhibitions at castles and the like before and they always seemed so heavy when the people lifted them up. Once, when he was just a boy, he had tried one on and he had been stuck on his back for a few minutes. This one, however, he was able to lift over his head and put on in one swift motion. It was a little too big in length, ending around mid-thigh, but still fit rather well. Convenient, Arthur thought.
"Ooh! You look great in that!" Elizaveta cooed. "Now we need to find you a sword and anything else you would like. Want a crossbow?"
"Really?" asked Arthur, lighting up. He'd always wanted to learn archery and now he might even get the chance to, albeit with a different type of bow.
"If you would like one, then, yes. Right, Alfred?" Elizaveta called.
"Anything for Arthur," Alfred agreed. Arthur blinked at that: what did that mean?
"Right, then. This one is the newest model," Elizaveta told him as she led him to the rack which held them. She took a rather large one off and showed it to him, pointing out all the features Arthur had no idea about. Luckily, she even showed him how to set a bolt in the weapon and how to fire it so Arthur felt confident that he'd be able to use it.
Finally, it was time for a sword. Elizaveta started handing him sword after sword and telling him to swing them. He felt a bit silly and, honestly, he was beginning to think he'd slipped into Ollivander's Wand Shop. Then, after what seemed like hours, he picked up a sword and it didn't feel heavy nor did it feel like it would fly from his hands in a single swing. Obeying Elizaveta's instructions, he swung it. Elizaveta cheered.
"That looks like the one for you!" she exclaimed. "I told you, I have a skill with knowing which sword is right for a customer and I make all sorts!"
"Yeah..." said Arthur, swinging the blade a few more times.
"Oh! You're going to need a belt with a place to tie the scabbard." The blacksmith hurried off and came back almost immediately with a leather one. She helped him tie it on comfortably, over his chainmail which caused it to pull in at his hips. Then she tied the scabbard on and sheathed his new sword. "There you are!" she declared. "I will put your new clothes in a package so they do not get dirty in... other shops."
At that point, Alfred came forward. "So, how much is that?"
"For everything?" asked Elizaveta as she pulled out some brown paper and folded the clothes upon them. "Hm. A hundred silver blooms, please."
"A hundred!" exclaimed Alfred. His eyes were wide and his jaw quite literally dropped. "But Elizaveta!" he whined.
"I know you have the money!" she sang as she tied the package together with twine. "You always have lots of money after saving our princess."
Grumbling good-naturedly, Alfred pulled a pouch from his pocket and shook out some coins. They were large and gold, each one shaped like a flower. "Here," he said once he had counted out fifty of them.
"Thank you," Elizaveta said as they swapped the package for the money. "I hope the rest of your shopping goes well. And may the gods smile down on you."
"Same to you," said Alfred.
Arthur followed Alfred to the entrance where Francis was lingering. When he spotted them, he grinned. "My, my, Arthur. You look the picture of an adventurer."
Blushing, Arthur frowned at that. "Hm. I doubt it."
"Come now," Francis responded, taking Arthur's elbow. "It is high time we went to Roderich's Class Emporium."
"'Class'?"
"Mm. I am not sure why that is the name but do come with us. We have to cross to the other side of the square."
As it transpired, Roderich's shop was at the opposite corner from Elizaveta's, strategically placed so that it was closer to the castle. Once they had navigated the market – with Arthur being distracted by a pretty brooch shaped like a robin and had to be pulled away – they stood for a moment before the building. Nothing bar the sign declared it to be a shop and Arthur would have taken it for a private building had he not known any better. It was a pastel pink with elegant white swirls and borders. Arthur didn't think it looked like something two knights and a bard should be walking into.
However, Francis did not seem perturbed and pulled Arthur into the shop with Alfred following behind. The first thing which struck Arthur was the cleanliness of it. Wooden floorboards had been swept, washed and polished. A piano sat in a corner of the room amongst other instruments. Puffy and elegant dresses hung from rails on one side. Suits and tunics and other such things hung on the other. Upon tables in the middle of the room sat hats and fascinators. There was no counter but a curtain separated the back room from the consumers side. In the corner was another curtain, presumably for the changing room that Elizaveta had mentioned.
"Roderich!" Francis called into the shop. "I hope you are not lost back there!"
It was a few moments before someone pushed the curtain aside and walked out. He was tall and straight-backed. Dark, brown hair had been combed back neatly except for a single strand which seemed to bounce as he moved into the shop proper. His eyes were a dark blue, almost more violet in Arthur's opinion. He wore a pair of petite spectacles and had a mole just to the side of his mouth. While Elizaveta had seemed pleased to see them, Roderich didn't seem to be impressed. He was wearing a fancy purple suit with gold trimmings: the tails swayed behind him as he moved.
"Francis," he said, tone flat. "What are you doing here? Did you not buy something just yesterday?"
"We are not here for moi," Francis replied. He gestured wildly at Arthur with his arm and Arthur had to duck away from him for fear of being hit. "This is Arthur. He is a bard and-"
"A bard?" Roderich's eyes lit up and he paced forwards, looking Arthur over. "Do you sing or just tell stories?"
"I, uh, just tell stories." Roderich grimaced and Arthur quickly added, "But I can sing. If you need me to?" What did singing have to do with anything? "Do-Do you want me to sing?" Arthur wasn't sure he wanted to. He had the strange feeling that Roderich would only criticise him if the reaction was anything to go by.
"No. That is fine." Roderich turned back to Francis. "Why are you here?"
"Arthur will be attending the ball with us and he needs something nice," Francis explains. "We will cover the cost. Ah, he will probably need one of your wonderful cloaks, too. He does not have much with him."
"And some new boots!" Alfred piped up.
Rolling his eyes, Roderich gestured behind him. "Come with me. I must work in private and I need to measure you."
"Great!" said Alfred, suddenly. "I will leave this with you, Francis." He pressed the package into Francis's arms who seemed startled. "I must buy something else and shall return soon. Will you manage without me, Arthur?"
"Um. Yeah?" Arthur answered, glancing between Francis and Roderich.
"Of course he can!" retorted Roderich. "Now, sir, if you would follow me."
He really had no way to protest so Arthur followed Roderich back behind the curtain. The area seemed to be his workspace: there were tables with piles of organised materials and sewing equipment. A loom was in the back, though it seemed dusty. Presumably, Roderich did not use wool often or bought quality material from merchants. Several rolls of measuring tape were on each table and Roderich grabbed the nearest one.
"Remove your clothes, except for your breeches, if you are uncomfortable," Roderich ordered. He was rather blunt and it caused Arthur to blush. Quickly, he tried to do as he was told, fumbling on the belt. There was a sigh and, suddenly, Roderich's hands were brushing away his own. Startled, he dropped his arms and watched as Roderich began to undress him. His blush darkened when he realised that it had been quite some time since anyone had done such a thing for him.
When he was deemed to have taken off enough clothes, he wrapped his arms around his cold torso as he watched Roderich measuring him. The man had a cold demeanour which was such a stark contrast to Elizaveta's cheery conversation that Arthur felt he'd get whiplash. He also didn't seem at all curious as to how he had met Alfred or why he was with him and Francis.
Roderich moved back, at long last, and nodded. "Hm, well," he said as he ran his eyes over Arthur's body. The publishing assistant wasn't sure whether he should feel more embarrassed or not. Then Roderich shook himself. "I think I shall create a particular piece for you. It will take a few weeks but I can show you something you can try on for now."
"Oh, no," said Arthur, hurriedly. He had no idea how long he would be here – was he here indefinitely or would he be transported back to his own world? "You don't have to do that."
"Nonsense. I take my work seriously and I must see that you get something to suit you." He held up Arthur's clothes. "If you want to get dressed before going back into the shop, you can."
"There's not much point, really, is there?" Arthur told him. Nevertheless, he picked up his garments and held them against his chest.
Walking back through to the front, Arthur could see that Alfred was back – and fidgeting. Francis was waving a hand at him, as if trying to swat Alfred away from him. Upon their entrance, both turned to look at them – Alfred's eyes widened a little when he saw them. As Roderich explained to Francis what he was doing, Arthur stared back at Alfred, wondering what he was looking at and why he was so surprised.
Finally, Roderich moved between them, breaking their line of sight, and Alfred jolted, looking away. Arthur frowned at him before following Roderich to where he kept his suits. The tailor sifted through them till he pulled out a blue and silver jacket with matching trousers and a white waistcoat. Buttons glimmered in the light and caused Arthur to blink in surprise. He didn't think he'd ever worn anything so fancy.
"Go try it on," was Roderich's order. "Come back out when you have it all on. I shall be at the piano." Placing a hand on the small of Arthur's back, he pushed the half-naked man through the curtain. He paused a moment to hang up the suit on the little hook before pulling back and tugging the curtain closed. Arthur stared at the barrier for a moment in silence until it was filled by the tinkling of piano keys.
Quickly, Arthur pulled off his trousers and got himself dressed. He marvelled at how soft and smooth it felt against his skin. It was much preferable to the things he had been wearing beforehand and better made than Elizaveta's. At the same time, Arthur felt like he couldn't move for fear of ripping the delicate clothing. When he was finished, he stepped out from behind the curtain, rather self-conscious.
The music stopped and all three turned their attention to him. Roderich nodded in approval, looking rather smug. Francis also seemed to approve, a smile on his face, whilst Alfred seemed shocked. "What?" Arthur asked him, frowning at his gaping mouth.
"Ah, oh, I- You look very nice," said Alfred, rather lamely.
Rolling his eyes, Arthur turned to Roderich. "So this is suitable?"
"Indeed. Francis is paying for it all. If you go change, I shall find you a cloak and some boots."
They parted ways again. This time, Arthur fancied he could hear frantic whispering as he carefully removed the fancy items. It sounded like Alfred and Francis and wondered what they were discussing that made them sound rather frantic. How they were going to pay for all of this, he presumed.
Returning to them with the clothes carefully folded, Arthur was just in time to witness Roderich reappearing with the aforementioned items. He approached Arthur, took the clothes from him, set them aside and then shook out the cloth. The cloak was a deep, forest green and looked rather spectacular. Without warning, he threw it around Arthur's shoulders and tied it around his neck. After he had made sure the bow was neat, he disappeared behind Arthur and straightened out the hood. While he did that, Arthur took the edge of the cloak and rubbed it. Again, the material looked expensive but it was also thickly woven and he could tell that it would keep most of the wind and rain out if he held the cloak closed. Roderich spun him around for Francis and Alfred's approval.
"Wow!" said Alfred, eyes wide again. "Hey, it almost matches your eyes. Not as be-bright, though."
"Oh," said Arthur, blinking owlishly. "Does that mean we're taking this one?"
"Oui," said Francis.
"The boots," Roderich stated, handing them over. They were a plain brown with a slight heel. The tops of them had been turned over and looked to be too big for Arthur. Nevertheless, he pulled them on and realised that they were absolutely fine. He smiled and nodded in approval.
"Yeah, they fit," he assured everyone.
"Bien!" Francis declared. "Let me pay and we can go back to the castle."
Once they had returned to Francis and Alfred's room and deposited their purchases, they decided to see about getting some food as the two knights hadn't eaten all day. Arthur wasn't as hungry but definitely a mite peckish. So Arthur got changed into his new clothes – behind the screen and with the express promise that neither would peek – and they made their way to the dining room.
Luckily for them, that was where they found Yao. He was sitting at the head of a long table, a variety of covered dishes spread around him. No-one else was present. The wooden sliding doors opposite the entrance had been left open so that there was a glimpse of the garden beyond. It seemed to be much like the front garden with the calming sound of a bamboo water feature.
"Ah, you are just in time for food," said Yao, gesturing to the meal. "Join me. Sakura will be here soon."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," said Alfred, bowing. Arthur quickly did the same, suddenly remembering the protocol.
Once they had all settled, Yao turned to Alfred. "Did your shopping go well?"
"It did," Alfred told him, staring at the food. Since Arthur was next to him, he could hear the knight's stomach grumble.
Yao sighed. "Go ahead. Eat. We will apologise to Sakura when she appears. Speaking of which..." He raised an arm again and servants appeared from nowhere. Most of them removed the silver lids but one went to listen to Yao whisper something in his ear. He nodded once and scurried away.
The food was all beautiful. Whole cuts of fish and beef with plenty of vegetables and a selection of fruits. A loaf of bread sat upon a wooden board, several slices already cut off. Dumplings and soup were in easy reach within several bowls. Crackers and cheese were also present and Arthur opted eat that instead of trying the rest.
Alfred, however, dug in, pulling several plates towards him. Arthur had forgotten about his massive appetite and flinched away from him. Across from them, Francis grimaced but mostly ignored his friend's actions as he began to eat his soup. Yao was not eating, apparently waiting for his daughter.
A few minutes into their meal, the servant from before rushed in. "Your Majesty!" he cried as he hastily bowed. "Sakura has disappeared!"
There was a brief pause. "Again?!" said Yao. His eyes flickered over his suddenly still guests: Arthur was staring at him and he knew Alfred and Francis were doing the same. The king cleared his throat. "Find her. Bring her home. Now!"
And Arthur found himself amongst chaos.
Daisy is Fem!Italy by the way - I thought Daisy (one of the names she's given) would be cool because it ties in with Sakura. :) (And I like Alice for Fem!England.)
I also didn't mean for Arthur to notice the coincidences and convenience of getting exactly what he needed - it just kinda happened but I like it so.
Have I mentioned that everything from here to the ending is made up as I go along? Except I totally have a rough plan of what I want to do. :D
Oh, and, the way Francis talks and having to address Sakura as Sakura-hime is because the author of the Corrinia stuff... was weird. He took bits and pieces he liked from different cultures and shoved them in.
FYI, the bit with Francis and Alfred saying that Sakura would like Arthur was actually, like, some weird sort of innuendo(?)/in-joke/thing between the two of them and entirely a lie. But Arthur doesn't know that because a newcomer being introduced to Sakura has never occurred in the novels, so.
(The woman with the dumplings: she gave Arthur them because he was polite and didn't snap at him like other people usually did. Arthur will never find this out and will likely forget about it entirely.)