far away from the memories;

[worth_killing]

Idleness and Arthur Castus did not often mix with much success. Hours full of leisure did not warrant the former commander's dislike, but empty hours did. In Britain, there had been no such thing as a vacant minute, let alone a full hour. Though industriousness did not fill every moment of their lives, every moment was conscripted, tallied up

Comments

[thefairone]

"Now Jamie, take a look at this, and remember, that most Romans do one or the other, think or fight. Sometimes both," Isolde instructed the little boy in her arms as she approached Arthur, and Jamie made his own insight as he gurgled slightly. Perhaps he liked to believe that Romans were more like fairy tales.

She would like to let him believe that, if only for a little while longer.

[worth_killing]

A moment passed before Arthur lifted his head to acknowledge the presence of Isolde and the babe, but when his eyes fell upon them, he smiled warmly.

"Sometimes, though rarely, they try to be artistic," he added, lifting the disc so that Isolde might see the basic though carefully engraved profile. Any judgment on his efforts from years ago he left to Isolde and whatever humor had caught her that morning.

[thefairone]

She made a quiet noise in the back of her throat, passing judgement, not for the worse, but for the similiar. "I can see that, and its proper art at that. Though I see they put details in the faces, we didna do that so much. Faces aren't as important as the names."

Plus, what with all the water and earth, faces never stood a chance. "Who was he?"

[worth_killing]

Arthur himself could not see how either name or face could be more important than the other. Both were vital parts of a man's, or woman's, identity.

"He was my teacher, back home in Britain. A monk," he added, glancing up to see what Isolde's reaction to that might be. "He taught me.. everything."

[thefairone]

It was what they did or did not do that they counted, probably in the end any ways. But those stories rarely got told to the ends.

"Then he was a good man," she said, making a decision, nodding her head, bobbing Jamie up and down a bit. "As he did wonders on you. We both are grateful."

[worth_killing]

The response pulled a slight grin from Arthur's worn face. "I am grateful to him as well." Growing quiet for a moment, the smile seeming to freeze, Arthur glanced downwards at the gift, remarking, "Unfortunately Rome did not feel the same way."

Unwilling to let such a somber mood overtake him, Arthur rose to his feet, trying to shake off the melancholy spirit. "How do you two fare, hm?"

[thefairone]

"Tut, tut, empires never do know when to do the right things, the majority makes fools," she said, scowling slightly before, before turning her attentions to better things, running her thumb under her son's chin.

"Oh good, though I think Jamie's making out better out of us, he's going to be spoilt iffin we're not careful. Mark my words."

[worth_killing]

A brow rose in response to that particular consideration of the majority, as Arthur at his core felt himself a democratic man. But he did not make comment to that, instead looking to the child fondly.

"A little bit of spoiling in the younger years is fine, perhaps. He shall have many, many years to grow out of it."

[thefairone]

Isolde's experience with democracies was practically nonexistence, but she knew monarchies, and she armies best of all, and knew that masses of men, had very little sense about the edges, but this wasn't the place or time for that sort of talk.

"Aye, he does, and he has parents and godparents and other folk to help him do it."

[worth_killing]

Arthur gave the boy a smile, running rough fingers gently over the soft hair on his head. "It is so strange, and beautiful, what we come to here," he commented, forcing his low voice to a careful softness. "Did you ever think such a day as this would come? Back home?"

[thefairone]

"No," she said, and there was a softness in her voice through all the honesty. To be truthful, she doesn't think she ever got such a thing back home, she just thinks that it faded away. "Not really. I think that's what this is for."

[worth_killing]

"Perhaps," Arthur said, but despite the nature of the word, his tone of voice said that he agreed with her, more likely than not. He had often wondered as to the nature of the island, for what purpose they had all been brought there. "Do you ever wonder why we get such chances here?" he asked. "Or do you just accept them with gratitude?"