Notes:
Peoples! I did another chapter! And I wrote it with longfull lengthiness without abundant difficulty!
Okie so…here’s some fun awkwardness…this is my first time trying to write a scene like this, so let me know what you think.
Some Arthundelle (maybe) in the next chapter.
So…tomorrow’s Sunday, and Monday night through Wednesday morning I’m doing something really cool, and I will be 100% off the internet and all devices during that time. So…unlikely that next chapter will be soon. Maybe 20% It might come out sometime before Monday lunch.
Rhu, am I portraying Cador and Sheridan well?
Chapter 3-As Normal as Can Be
Artham took a deep breath of the crisp, cold air, and happily sank his hands into his horse’s mane as he rode through Pennybridge. The winter breeze whistled in his ears and he pulled the collar of his coat higher. The wind seemed to rush at him every time he rounded the corner of a building and made his black hair fly in his face. Artham loved it. The stronger the wind, the more he felt like he was flying. He desperately wanted to break into a gallop, but the thought of where he was going kept him from deserting the town streets and making toward the sandy fields near the ocean where he and Shasta could run to their hearts’ content.
It was the day after the conference, and almost all of the Annieran delegates had returned to their towns and cities. It seemed like the conference had lasted far more than three days, but both Artham and Esben felt an extreme sense of accomplishment. It had been the first national Annieran conference since Esben’s coronation, and as far as Artham could tell, it had gone surprisingly well.
Of course, he thought, it seems that people are never actually saying what they’re thinking. What I thought was a good decision might actually have been disastrous... or someone could’ve gotten enormously offended. Or there might have been a security breach I wasn’t aware of…Artham frowned and stared off into the distance as he tried to think of all the possible ways the conference might have gone wrong without him noticing. Maybe-
“ARTHAM! Wait for me!” Artham was jerked out of his thoughts by Esben’s shout behind him. He reined in his horse and turned around, grinning as he watched Esben gallop wildly up the street on his horse, and thanked the Maker it was mostly deserted.
“Careful Esben!” He shouted back, laughing when his brother pulled up beside him.
“Why? You never are,” Esben said, panting for breath. The wind had blown his golden brown hair into looking like a very prickly thorn bush.
“That’s different,” Artham said with a wry smile. “For one thing, Aunt Illia taught me the proper way to do crazy things like run on the castle rooftops or cartwheeling in the trees without breaking my neck. For another, I’m the Throne Warden. For some reason people both expect me to do great and dangerous deeds, while also expecting me to keep my little brother from tagging along and doing the same.”
Esben snickered, rolled his eyes, and gave Artham a shove, as if trying to unseat him. Artham laughed and shoved back, then pulled his boots from the stirrrups and stood backwards in the saddle, smirking at Esben with a twinkle in his eye as his horse continued to trot down the street. Esben clearly took Artham’s actions as some kind of challenge, because he also took his boots out of the stirrups and began, unsteadily, to stand up in the saddle.
“Stop, Es! Please do not try to do this here.” Esben just smirked at his brother and stood up anyway, waving his arms unsteadily. Artham sighed.
“Yes, I see that you can stand up in your saddle, as unnnecessary as it is. Now that you have proved your incredible skill, would you please sit down?” Esben huffed but sat down anyway, and Artham followed. A moment later,
“Don’t look now, Arth,” Esben said with a grin, “But someone, or as a matter of fact several someones, were watching your little performance.” Artham’s face brightened before he turned around.
“Arundelle?” Esben snickered.
“Nope.” Artham turned his horse around slowly as Esben passed him, continuing down the street and toward the group of young men and women, talking amongst themselves and smiling. Artham wondered uncomfortably how long they had been there, and realized that they had probably been watching the whole time. He groaned inwardly as he followed Esben, realizing that turning around and finding another way to his destination would not only be offensive, but a rather serious breach of…well of rather everything. If only he could find some way to disappear and get to the inn…Arundelle was probably expecting him by now,
He tried to look as normal as possible as he called a greeting in response to the smiles and waves from the small group that Esben had already joined after dismounting. He smiled and waved in response to the greetings thrown his way, and looked through the group to see who all was there.
Unfortunately, he didn’t see many people who were any more than acquaintances, and ones he usually preferred to avoid at that. Except for Cador and Sheridan, but they were already having some strange punching contest or something with Esben.
As he dismounted to lead his horse down the street, a cluster of chattering young men and women gathered around him, as if drawn by some magnetic force. Artham glanced over their heads, his heart beating faster as he tried to catch sight of Esben. You only lost sight of him for two seconds! Stop it! There’s absolutely nothing to be worried about. Nevertheless, he continued to look through the group, and the frantic Throne Warden part of his mind calmed slightly to see Esben already laughing and shoving and looking right at home in his crowd of friends.
He’s enjoying himself! Artham thought. Why in Aerwiar is it so hard for me to enjoy this too? He sighed and then refocused his attention on the group around him, realizing that someone was talking to him.
“-I didn’t know you could ride your horse standing up,” An excited looking young man was saying. Probably fifteen, Artham thought, seeing that while he was talking to Artham, he was staring wide-eyed at Artham’s sword, swaying slightly in its sheath. Artham looked down in slight surprise at his sword.
It’s gentle and weighted thump against his thigh had become so normal that he usually forgot it was there. It had become less of a weapon and more of a deadly extension of himself. He looked into the expectant young man’s face and realized that some answer was necessary for the half-compliment half in-total-awe-statement.
“Oh, it’s just something I learned to do in training. Mostly for fun. Esben can do it too.” The young man simply gazed at Artham in amazement until Artham started to wonder where he was supposed to look or if he was supposed to say something, and one of the boys closer to the young man’s own age pulled him toward their group. More likely thirteen, Artham thought uncomfortably.
He continued leading his horse down the street and in a minute, had slipped into the alternate persona he kept at the ready for these events, and found himself slightly enjoying the bustle of friendly activity and the conversations that always somehow seemed to include him. Soon he was laughing and smiling as he talked with the many people who clearly either thought of themselves as good friends, and others, the ones who made Artham definitely uncomfortable, who didn’t bother to mask their admiration.
Despite the happy atmosphere, Artham found himself growing increasingly tense and worried as more and more time passed without him making direct eye contact with Esben. Large groups of people made him nervous and strained his protective instinct. He tried to reassure himself with Esben’s laughter continually mingling with the shouts and chatter of the others.
“Where are you headed, anyway, Artham?” A young woman asked. Her name….Oh yes, Lillia, Artha reminded himself, recognising her as the daughter of one of the cities’ governors.
“Would you like to come with us? We’re going to the hills just outside of here. Dayla and Markis are bringing a picnic. It’s just the fifteen of us,” She said, gesturing around her with a friendly smile. Artham returned it with a rather disappointed smile and responded,
“I’m sorry Lillia, I can’t go today, but thank you for the invitation,” he realized with relief that Esben, Cador, and Sheridan had drifted into his line of sight.
“I’ve already made some rather important arrangements for this afternoon that I can’t ignore.”
“Oh right!” Sheridan piped up from where he and Cador were balancing on a low wall, trying to see who could stay on longest while Esben shoved them.
“Arundelle was wondering where you were when we left!” Artham’s eyes widened.
“Sheridan!” He hissed, desperately hoping that his face didn’t look as hot as it felt.
“Sheridan!” Cador and Esben echoed, Esben knocking Sheridan playfully on the head as he doubled over with suppressed laughter, right before Cador knocked his twin off the wall. Artham forced himself to laugh along, hoping most of the attention had been diverted to the scuffle on the wall. Since Cador had helped his brother back up, Sheridan was now jabbing his twin in the ribs, both were gripping each other by the elbows, and they were both teetering dangerously again.
Thankfully, only the four or five closest to Esben heard, and those who did laughed good naturedly, except for Lillia and one or two of the other girls, who looked rather disgruntled. Artham cleared his throat awkwardly and turned back to Lillia.
“Maybe some other day.” She sighed but nodded. Esben looked up from trying to unbalance the two on the wall and saw that they were at a fork in the road, one path toward the Illing Inn, and the other toward the hills.
“Here’s where we have to go,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. He exchanged a few final punches with Cador and Sheridan, made a few exaggeratedly proper bows, and waved goodbye as he mounted his horse again. Artham’s goodbyes were more moderate, he shook hands with a few of his better acquaintances, bowed courteously, and lifted himself into the saddle, sighing gratefully as the chatter of the picnic crowd faded behind him, but feeling a relative sense of satisfaction that he had actually socialized well, and better yet, enjoyed it a little bit.
And…he surveyed Esben from head to foot. Despite tousled hair and a rather wrinkled tunic, his brother looked completely fine. Of course he’s fine, Artham! What do you think is going to happen? We’re on the open streets of Pennybridge in broad daylight, and he was with a crowd of friends. It’s ridiculous to think anything is going to go wrong. Artham sighed and realized that he was going to have to resign himself to his nervous feeling. He had days like this, and he usually never knew why. Sometimes they were the product of a nightmare, but that wasn’t the case today.
Just forget it and see if you can enjoy yourself with Aru. He focused on the rhythm of Shasta’s hoofbeats on the cobblestones and smiled as the wind and sun touched his face.
“Sorry about that, Artham.You know Sheridan. Absolutely tactless,” Esben said, clearly trying to sound sympathetic despite the smile on his face.
“Oh right, like you’ve never teased me before, Es.”
“Never in front of a crowd of people!” Esben protested as he pawed some of the hair out of his eyes.
“Are you kidding me? Don’t you remember the time when-”
“Fine! Fine! Please don’t bring that up. You weren’t the only one embarrassed.”
“Where are you going?” Artham asked. “I know that you are not headed to the Inn, and I was surprised when you didn’t head off for the picnic.”
“Sir Kadru’s manor. First Book stuff. Can you be there this evening?”
“Sure. Just be careful on the way.” Esben rolled his eyes.
“Of course, Your Overly Careful…Carefulness.” Artham laughed and gave Esben a little push in the direction of Kadru’s place. Esben set off at an absolutely reckless pace, yelling over his shoulder,
“Have fun with Aru!”
Next chapter