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Musings
Athair ar Neamh
Sunlight poured in through the windowpane, casting several beams on the hard stone floor. The fair-haired prince stood gazing out the window, his face vacant as his golden eyes swept over the spectacular view of his kingdom, and beyond that, the acres of farm from which the townspeople grew their crops, windmills plotted in every field. Precipitation in the land during the spring was plentiful, and though summer brought scorching heat that caused much suffering to people and vegetation alike, crops were reasonably right for harvest during the chilly autumn in preparation for the harsh wintertime. And this season of spring had been fairly progressive for the farmers that worked in the fields, their crops having been growing well under their care.
The prince sighed deeply, his chest rising and falling as he placed a hand over his heart. The people have had a happy life in Golden Crown for as long as he could remember, despite atrocities and threats the kingdom had encountered with numerous monsters such as trolls and wicked hags. None of them had ever thought to lose faith in him, Prince Mythos, when they've had their fair share of dangerous and unfortunate events. And while he and his protector, his knight, watched over the kingdom to protect and defend from all that dared come near the castle walls and try for bringing up chaos, the rubble would be cleared away should they have been damaged, and houses reconstructed if they'd been destroyed.
But not even he, the noble Prince Mythos, ruler of an entire kingdom, wasn't able to handle almost every danger alone. There were things, after all, that couldn't be defeated so easily with just a sharp blade. And though the prince knew his knight wouldn't allow a time to let him out of his sight, it bothered him to feel (for perhaps, the first time) anxiety, and worse, fear.
Two emotions that he hadn't comprehended yet before, and they blossomed in his chest in short, aching throbs. The prince resented those emotions. They distracted him from everything else.
His brows furrowed slightly.
And at the moment, the last thing he needed was a distraction. Signs of weakness, not to mention, were not to be taken lightly at this time either.
Just then, the double oak doors opened slightly, interrupting the train of thought running through his head, and Prince Mythos glanced back to see his knight entering his royal chamber.
"Fakir." he acknowledged the knight by his name, granting him permission to speak at the same time.
The dark-haired young man nodded a little before proceeding his way across the room towards the window where Prince Mythos stood by. Coming to stand next to him, Fakir's eyes rested on the windowpane, letting the silence between them hang for just a few seconds before speaking.
"You should rest, your Majesty. It's been a tiring day, returning from the mountains."
The prince let a small smile cross his lips, golden eyes still towards the window. "I'm not too tired to stand. I'm fine."
"Even so—" the knight began.
"Fakir, you worry too much. Truly. I said I'm fine."
Mythos could feel the man shooting him a scowl of annoyance now, and sighed quietly to himself. He knew by now, that his knight was, by far, the most protective and overbearing one he'd ever had in the castle. Or in truth, the only one he'd ever had. Fakir was the very first knight to have taken up the position of being his partner in battle, and his skills with a sword were impressive and almost comparable to his own, which was one good reason to keep the sullen knight at his side at all times during a fight. Though most people view the pair as mere charge and protector and were only on short conversational terms, the prince and Fakir were much closer than anyone outside the castle knew. Perhaps, one could say that they were good friends, though not many see that this was true. In any case, both were inseparable, either in the battlefield or in any other place.
Mythos' gaze wandered over to his knight once more, whose facial expression was fixed into the stoic one that he commonly wore, his forest-green eyes training on the snow-haired prince before him. And just the sight of Fakir looking so intently at his person nearly made Mythos want to laugh for some reason.
Always so adamant and serious.
But knowing the knight, he probably would have questioned him for the sudden outburst, and the prince was never in the favor of making Fakir irritated. So instead, he offered a tender smile (blended with a bit of amusement behind it) and said, "I'm too restless to be exhausted. If I try and sleep now, I don't think I'll look too well for the rest of the day."
Fakir nodded solemnly in understanding, but he didn't seem too convinced, eyes finally leaving the prince to come to rest on the windowpane. It was a beautiful morning. In the distance to his far right, the great blue lake that of which could be seen from the prince's chambers shimmered brightly with light from the sun.
"Fakir, you should be the one to rest." Mythos suddenly suggested to him. "I'm certain you're just as tired as you thought me to be so."
The knight sniffed indistinctly, his eyes never leaving the window. "I can take care of myself. It wouldn't be as if I would just collapse here before you, your Highness."
The prince sighed quietly once more, bowing his head as he closed his eyes. "I suppose…there's just too much for us to ponder in order to sleep, isn't there?"
Fakir didn't respond, knowing well what his charge meant.
Opening his golden eyes again, Mythos lifted them back to the window and the landscape before them, continuing gravely, "We can never be too loosely off-guard, now that a wave is coming our way. And if we just brush it aside and don't act immediately, who knows what trouble may be brought."
The knight averted forest-green orbs from the window and came to stare at the stone floor beneath his feet. "'Trouble', I believe, is a weaker term for what's to come, your Majesty."
A small smile made its way to the prince's lips, a sad, worried smile. A smile neither seen by the people who loved him nor one he allowed to let anyone witness aside from his knight.
"I suppose, since the gravity of our situation is a serious one. And the last thing I want is for my people to be disturbed by the troubling news."
There was a silence, as Fakir continued to stare at the floor, then he replied, "Who said we should let them know?"
The prince turned quickly to the dark-haired knight, a frown marring his smooth features. "Fakir, you're not telling me that we should keep it quiet from everyone?"
The knight's eyes met the golden pair, and stated, "There was never a time when we had difficulties in keeping away pesky intruders from the kingdom. This can't be any different from any we've dealt with before. Dangerous, but not incomparable. So there's no point in worrying the townspeople over this when we can take care of it just as easily as we have with all the others."
Prince Mythos looked at Fakir, gaze sharpening. "Fakir, don't be arrogant. Of course this is different from the rest. It's unlike anything we've dealt with before, and none of us are safe once the danger comes."
The knight scoffed silently at the prince's words. He had a point, Fakir could see that. Abstinence, however, projected an entirely different way of thinking for him, one he neither refused nor accepted in spite of himself. And in addition to that, his ideals as a knight and a protector of the noble Prince Mythos usually fogged reason in his head just as much as his judgment.
"The future is unpredictable, Mythos." the prince straightened up as Fakir mentioned his name directly without title, and he knew he had to listen now. "We need to take chances in order to survive, even if it means you have to be subtle, and right now, the last thing we want is for the townspeople to fret about the news we've brought home. Believe me, your Majesty." he continued as the title returned. "It's best when we keep quiet about this."
The knight stepped away from the window and strode across the room towards the open doors, as the abated yet still worried prince's gaze followed after his tall and slender form. Stopping at the doorway, he turned to look at the young snow-haired ruler over his shoulder, and said, "Now, you should really rest, your Highness, as much as you would tell me how you don't feel the least bit tired. I'll be checking in on you again in an hour, and by that time, I want to see you in bed and resting."
At those words, the knight exited Mythos' chambers, shutting the double doors shut behind his retreating back.
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