30 Days of Writing: Accusations
Like a Circle in the Water
30 Days of Writing - A Drabble A Day Challenge
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters/Pairings: Prussia/England
Summary: Arthur finally gets the chance to have a word with Gilbert… Gilbert just wants to get a snack before he has guard duty. Medieval AU.
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Accusations
He had ignored it at first; a slight prickling at the back of his neck as he trained with the other recruits, the sensation of eyes tracking his movements as he went about his day. If he’d started to catch glimpses of the youngest of Baron Kirkland’s children when the other had previously made himself scarce it could only be some kind of coincidence.
Or so he had thought.
Gilbert is forced to revaluate his original assessment of the situation when he finds himself face to face with the young lord in question a few weeks after he first senses his observer. It is early evening, and most days by now he’s already back at the forge pushing Alte Fritz away from his newest creation long enough to have some stew and bread for supper. Today is different; Gilbert is scheduled to have his first taste of guard duty, and it is when he is returning from the stables after informing his brother Ludwig of this that he runs into Arthur Kirkland.
He’s seen the boy about from a distance, of course. The fourth son of Baron Kirkland, destined to inherit the land for his quick wit, is not only known to the people of the fief as the eventual successor. The quiet war waged by the second and fourth sons of the Kirkland house is legendary amongst the castle’s servants; the tales detailing the subtle but thorough revenge orchestrated against Sir Sean Kirkland before the knight had relocated to the capitol in the King’s service are retold in hushed tones to the new recruits to the castle each year, and Gilbert remembers huffing with disbelief at what he is told. “Surely,” he had insisted, “someone must have intervened before things could become so out of hand.” For if the barbed comments in public and the rough brawls in private had been stopped, surely there would have been no need for retaliation.
The older boys had smiled wryly at him and informed him that nobles were taught that they must stand alone; that they must take everything and say nothing of it. Arthur had never spoken to anyone of the fighting, and while there was impossible to hide anything from the castle’s servants, he had been able to weave stories to explain away details that would cause his educators or parents’ suspicion. His silver tongue, Gilbert had been told, had also been of great use when reporting his brother’s absence at dinner for the three nights after he had exacted his brand of justice.
Gilbert had often wondered at how much truth was left in the tale, when it had been retold so often by so many different people. Now, as he feels that piercing gaze turned on him, he finds himself believing every word.
“M’lord,” he murmurs in acknowledgement, spine folding into a bow.
Arthur eyes him for a moment in silence, as though his expression will give him the answer to his internal debate, before giving a nod in return.
He had thought that to be the end of the conversation (if it could even be called that) but Arthur proves him wrong. While the Kirklands are known to treat their staff and people fairly well, it is still rare to see one of them interacting with commoners; Gilbert has no reason to think this should play out any differently, so when Arthur continues to survey him quietly instead of walking away he conceals a frown of confusion. His plan to beg a snack from his friend working in the kitchens before his shift is becoming less of an option the more time he allows to pass.
When no reaction is forthcoming from the noble, Gilbert shifts his weight from one foot to the other and asks, “Can I help you, m’lord?” He’s beginning to feel a little impatient - he has things to do, after all - but he also knows he can’t hurry the other along. If he comes off as rude there will be consequences, and although he is more than willing to take responsibility for any of his actions he won’t allow them to affect Alte Fritz or his brother.
That, and also the fact that he would very much continue to learn swordplay and help defend his home.
“What is your name?”
He can’t stop the practiced drawl from leaving his lips, “Gilbert Weillschmidt of the lower town.” He wonders for a moment if that is too impertinent, but the slight quirk of young Kirkland’s mouth is assurance enough that he’s in the clear.
“Gilbert Weillschmidt of the lower town…” It almost sounds like a champion’s title, the way it rolls off Arthur’s eloquent tongue. “Your swordsmanship; it is unmatched by the peers you train with.”
The way that Arthur speaks this as a statement of fact, completely certain of his words, cements something in Gilbert’s mind; it has him voicing his thoughts before they are even fully formed and he can’t keep the suspicion from slipping into his tone. “…It was you watching our training sessions?”
Arthur lifts his shoulder in half a shrug, apparently unbothered. “It’s far more entertaining than listening to Master Geoffrey’s lessons, I must say.”
Gilbert cracks a smile at that; he has only had the misfortune of running into Master Geoffrey on one occasion. He had not been particularly receptive to the idea of finding seven young men loitering near the banquet hall in hopes of catching the eye of one of the serving girls. If his lessons are anywhere near as tiresome as his lectures, Gilbert pities the third and fourth Kirkland children, even given their wealth. Still, if he does not start walking soon, he will have to patrol on an empty stomach. “I thank you for the praise, m’lord.” He’d bask in it a little more had he the time. “I hope to do credit to those who taught me in service of your family. Speaking of which, I must report for evening guard duty; by your leave..?”
His hopes for a quick dismissal are dashed when he spots an odd spark in Arthur’s eye. “Just a moment more of your time,” the blond says smoothly, and Gilbert has no choice but to stay put. “I wanted to ask if you would consider a practice duel or two. My brother and I learn together, so he is the only one I have had the chance to fight.” He wrinkles his nose. “We can both easily predict what the other is about to do.”
Gilbert’s brows rise. Whatever his expectations had been for the direction of this conversation, it certainly hadn’t been this. “Why ask me?”
“I have seen you fight.” Arthur’s tone suggests that he shouldn’t need any other reason but this, but he continues for Gilbert’s benefit regardless. "You enjoy swordplay enough to want to practice in your own time, and your sense of pride is high enough that you would not let me win simply because of my position." A pause. "I may also be able to learn from you."
Remembering the stories about the many fights Arthur had had with his brother before he had retaliated, Gilbert’s eyes narrow. “And if I, a commoner, injure you during practice? My family would be put out of work before you had the chance to do anything to prevent it.”
Arthur just gives him a measuring look, before shrugging again. “We would be using blunted practice swords, how much damage could you do? But I don’t want to keep you; have some time to think about it and then give me your response.” It’s a clear dismissal, and Gilbert takes it before the other can change his mind. He aims a hurried bow in the young noble’s direction before heading in the direction of the kitchens. If he’s lucky, he’ll have enough time to plead his case to Elizaveta for a bread roll before he sprints to his first night of guard duty.
He’ll think on Arthur Kirkland’s request tomorrow, on a full stomach and sufficient sleep.
~Hollyrose~
Notes:
Sean - Ireland
Ahahaha. I’m on the second one and I’ve already fallen off the wagon, so to speak XD Sorry this is late, guys! I will, in my defence, say that this is supposed to be a drabble meme, and this certainly isn’t drabble length.
Again, big thanks to the lovely RevolutionJack for beta-ing and putting up with my whining as I write~