(Untitled)

[worth_killing]

Arthur had had very few things to trouble him over the past few weeks. Life was progressing more peaceably, more smoothly than it ever had before. The few days spent in the dream of his former life, of his former home, had made him nostalgic for a time, and even guilty. Just because the Saxons had been defeated once did not mean that they would

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[sminamino]

Kurama did thinking, and by extension planning, well. Of course his human side was more impetuous and so he found himself heading to find someone on the Council.

He couldn't help but admire the sword work. Hiei, he couldn't help the little pang that came with thinking about his friend, would certainly have been curious about this man and wanted to challenge him. "Hello." He said ensuring he was not anywhere near the sword swings that he had the other man's attention before moving forward.

[worth_killing]

Arthur had no set pattern to his exercise, no routine to follow in his attacks, so the stop he made when hearing another man's voice was abrupt and complete. Though he was by no means weak, the sword was heavy and the sun hot, and his breath came and went in the soft pants of someone mildly exerted.

He nodded a greeting to the man, quickly and quietly taking his measure. "Greetings," Arthur said. "Can I help you, sir?"

[sminamino]

He grinned. "I didn't mean to disrupt your exercise, but I believe you can yes."

He wasn't sure how to put it into words, else they would all just rush out and not make much sense really. "I was at a gathering the other night, and I was thinking about how difficult it is for some to just to the Island. Of course, it is difficult for everyone, but others have...shall we say lost more. It got me to wondering if we have any sort of welcoming committee in place." He thought he heard something about it once. "And if so then might you need any more volunteers." Even if he couldn't directly be involved, maybe there was assistance he could provide.

[worth_killing]

There was a slight shake of Arthur's head to indicate that the man certainly had not disrupted anything, and Arthur listened attentively to what he had to say. A silent pause followed as he slide Excalibur back into its sheath and thought over a response.

"There is not such an organization as of yet, no," he answered, slowly regaining his breath. "As you know, those who arrive on the island are brought at all times and settle in all places and it is difficult to keep track of it all." Arthur thought them quite fortunate to have such an exact census as they had. "The idea is not a bad one, though. What would such a group of people do for the newly arrived, for an example?"

[thefairone]

There was a rhythm, that one had to realise, to overcome, more importantly that she had to realise in moving these days. In cracking knuckles (hands and feet first, little bones, then larger ones), and moving slowly, with no such grace as she'd once had. She missed her grace, ached for it, and wanted the new year to come, so that it would return to her.

Still a familiar face, was a familiar face, and she would take them as they came, and Isolde smiled, for old ways, with men and their swords provided a great comfort to her, in a funny sort of way. Thus, hands pressed against her back, she stopped and watched, it was only right. "Fight devils? Or are ye fighting, angels, Arthur?"

[worth_killing]

Excalibur swung through the air in a wide arc that would have sliced open a man's stomach had there been a man there to attack. Instead the metal sang and shone, and Arthur ceased his movements with a sudden calm. He did not sheath the sword quite yet, but switched hands, shaking out the tightness and strain from his right arm.

Turning to Isolde, he gave her a smile, warm and welcoming, and greeted her as he regained his breath. "Never angels, Isolde. I am no Jacob. I only prepare to fight devils." His gaze flicked downwards to her swollen belly, then to her face again. "How do you fare?" he asked.

[thefairone]

"That's good to hear," she said, nodding slightly, and giving a slight shake to her head. Gently she reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, scratching there slightly as she did so and shrugged.

"Oh, I've been better, but I've been a good deal worse, tis nature I suppose." She lifted an eyebrow and tilted her head. "How're ye, then? 'Sides from tempting demons with your blade?"

[worth_killing]

"The child does not trouble you too much?" he asked hopefully, glancing once again between her stomach and her face. The thought of the child growing within Isolde was something that gave him joy, and something that he tried not to connect with Lyanna.

"Well. Very well," he answered, a hint of a smile pulling the corner of his mouth upwards, as if it refused to be subdued now that it had been given a chance to show. "I am.. well, I am to be married," he told her.

[thedescent_into]

She steps out of the trees, stopping close by but well out of harms way, watching the smooth arch and thrust of his sword and the intense gleam in his eye, her own weapon strapped safely at her hip.

"Who are your opponents?" she asks. It's clear that he has one, even if they are visible to no one but him.

[worth_killing]

He halted suddenly at the question, an easy thing considering he had just thrust forward powerfully, his blade parallel to the ground. The movement was completed, and there was no set format to his practice, no steps to follow. Gaze shifting to Sarah, Arthur idly wondered if Tristan could even have sensed her approach, then dismissed the thought as a futile one.

Dropping out of the aggressive stance, Arthur let the point of Excalibur fall downwards. "None. Yet," he answered. "Only what I imagine."

[thedescent_into]

"What are the ones you imagine?" she asks, stepping a little closer, her footfalls nearly silent. "You have one. Or more than one. I can tell by your face."

[worth_killing]

Arthur paused before answering, gaze falling aside for a moment as if he were admonishing himself before Sarah might. "Demon horses," he said. "And other such dark things that have been haunting the minds of some I know." He looked to her again, a faint upward turn to the corner of his mouth. "And when those were felled, I planned on slaying a few Saxons."

[lifeisnotasong]

Aunt Lyanna had pretended she wasn't excited in her usual Lyanna way, but Sansa has soon got round her and her aunt had been properly excited about being betrothed by the end of their conversation. Of course when Sansa asked about details, Lyanna had been vague on that as well, and Sansa had given all the wedding planning books back to the bookshelf after Susan and Jon's wedding

[worth_killing]

It was not until Arthur had pivoted in a full circle, Excalibur's point leading the movement, that he caught sight of Sansa and her child. He stopped his movements quickly, falling out of that warrior stance to something only somewhat more relaxed. Twirling the blade round once to test his wrist, Arthur sheathed the sword, greeting Sansa with a warm though restrained smile.

"Good morning," he said, breathing only somewhat weakened by his exercise, a few black curls wet on his forehead. "How do you and Eddara fare?"

[lifeisnotasong]

"Good morning, ser," she answered, "I did not mean to interrupt." It had been a pleasant sight really. Familiar, reminiscent of the practise yard at Winterfell, she can see him practising with her father's and brothers when they are family.

"We're both well," she assured him, "she's an early riser is all." Eddara blinks wide eyed and stares as she is like to do with Sansa is talking to well anyone, she's fascinated by people. "I merely wished to offer you congratulations," she said. "I know you and Aunt Lyanna will be very happy together."

[worth_killing]

"You interrupted nothing of great importance," he assured her easily. Stepping forward at first, Arthur paused in surprise at the congratulations. He really should not be surprised, he supposed, as Sansa was Lyanna's family and Lyanna was like to tell her. But the idea of their marriage being common knowledge had not yet solidified in his mind. He smiled all the same, a careful worn thing but true. "Thank you. I have high hopes that we shall be as well."

[starkhand]

Ned did not interrupt Arthur's practice, but stood by and watched silently, with Ice in its scabbard just visible over his shoulder. He himself misliked being interrupted in the midst of such work. It was clear that Arthur knew what he was about with a sword, yet another reason Ned would be pleased to call him goodbrother.

[worth_killing]

Dispatching another imaginary opponent, Arthur wheeled around, arms outstretched, effectively piercing the chest of any who would have run up behind him. With a blink, his gaze refocused, finding Ned, and he let his arms fall. Still breathing a little heavily, he had a smile on his face nonetheless for the other man, and nodded a greeting. "Good morning, Ned," he said. "How do you fare?"

[starkhand]

"I have no cause for complaint," replied Ned with a nod and a bit of a smile, something that came to his face more frequently these days. "I trust you are well?"

[worth_killing]

Smiles seemed to come easily to Arthur, especially in the last few months. He had wondered at it at first, but came to decide that happiness was not something that should bear close scrutiny. Additionally, he was flushed from the exercise, which in this instance boosted his mood, and seeing a Stark reminded Arthur of another member of their family.

"I am well," he confirmed with a nod, sliding Excalibur back into its sheath as he recovered himself. "Though these visions people have experienced worry me."