After assurance that he hadn't harmed himself came in the form of Gwaine's drunken singing, the Prince joined in on the laughter. The knights burst into rounds of laughter as Gwaine stood on a chair to toast, only to topple over onto the floor, tankard and all. There were many men there, toasting the past few weeks of prosper. That was how the Prince, his knights, and his manservant wound up in the Tavern. "Agreed," said the blonde-haired boy, looking up at him as he put aside the last of his armor, feeling at least ten pounds lighter. Too many nights of it, if you were to ask the crown prince. "It has come to the attention of Lancelot and I that we can only spar so many times a day." The well-respected knight stood a little taller, looked a little more alert, probably from long nights of rest. "Hm?" he grunted, fighting to haul his mail over his shoulders. Arthur was sitting on a bench and loosening his chest plate, wishing Merlin were there to assist him, but knowing that the servant was helping Gaius while there weren't too many sick to worry about and supplies could be gathered. It was the midday of the 16th day of unexpected peace.
"Sire," came Leon's voice after practice had ended that day. Nor were they the only ones Prince Arthur found it exceedingly hard to focus on the downstroke of his sword when it was all he'd focused on for weeks.
The knights found themselves spending most of their time in the practice fields, but they'd seemed to have become lazed even when it came to that. It slipped through their fingers, slowly and painfully, to a point where sleep, which could once have been seen as a nuisance, came welcomely.
#As old as time a twisted tale fanfiction free
The kingdom of Camelot had been strangely at ease for the past two weeks, leaving the knights, the King, and the Prince with a lot of free time.
I should have never have expected him to care for himself, just for once to care for himself.
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