Arturia ap Pendragon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
the_once_and_future) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
imperial_stage2012-08-05 01:10 am
the_once_and_future) wrote in imperial_stage2012-08-05 01:10 am
Return of the King of Knights
Who: Arturia, any Briton, or anyone with a reason to be in Camelot
What: The Queen returns
When: 5 August, early morning
Where: Camelot, either in the courtyard outside the great hall or inside
It was the early hours of dawn, when the city began to wake from its slumber for a new day of work. The medallion of the sun hung low on the horizon, a brilliant magenta as it filtered through the rolling fog along fields of wheat, barley, and rye. Farm hands had just begun to lead their sheep and cattle out to pasture, and squires started their task of tending to the mounts of their knights. Apprentices to various trades were already performing the morning chores their masters tasked them with, occasionally dodging shopkeepers rolling up the curtains over their stalls. It was a day like any other.
It was into this idyll that the small company of knights rode, weary to the bone but none the worse for wear in spite of their previous battles. They had left behind their their families and friends to join the campaign; each knight's spirits were light if for no other reason that they would see their loved ones again. They were exhausted, but at long last, they were home. The Black Company had returned to Camelot.
The knight at their head dismounted with ease and grace, giving Llamrei a fond pat before a somewhat bewildered stable-hand led her away. The company followed suit, awaiting the dismissal of their leader. A final "huzzah!" heralded their departure, eager even in their weariness for their anticipated reunions. Yet, even in this otherwise joyous homecoming, Arturia ap Pendragon frowned slightly as her sea-green eyes scanned the courtyard, as if expecting to find something there that was conspicuously absent. But whatever she expected to see was not to be found.
Though every bit as weary as the knights she commanded, Arturia carefully suppressed any sign of it, deliberately presenting a vision of strength and poise for the sake of the subjects who needed to believe in her. The sovereign must be the rock upon which the kingdom rested; she must not show frailty and must exude all the virtues of chivalry at all times. Their victory must be nothing short of the expected outcome, as natural as the waves against the white shores of Gwaych, the province the Black Company had successfully defended from corruption.
With measured, graceful steps, the Queen of Britain made her way to the great hall.
[OOC: Prose or action tags are fine, whichever is your preference.]
What: The Queen returns
When: 5 August, early morning
Where: Camelot, either in the courtyard outside the great hall or inside
It was the early hours of dawn, when the city began to wake from its slumber for a new day of work. The medallion of the sun hung low on the horizon, a brilliant magenta as it filtered through the rolling fog along fields of wheat, barley, and rye. Farm hands had just begun to lead their sheep and cattle out to pasture, and squires started their task of tending to the mounts of their knights. Apprentices to various trades were already performing the morning chores their masters tasked them with, occasionally dodging shopkeepers rolling up the curtains over their stalls. It was a day like any other.
It was into this idyll that the small company of knights rode, weary to the bone but none the worse for wear in spite of their previous battles. They had left behind their their families and friends to join the campaign; each knight's spirits were light if for no other reason that they would see their loved ones again. They were exhausted, but at long last, they were home. The Black Company had returned to Camelot.
The knight at their head dismounted with ease and grace, giving Llamrei a fond pat before a somewhat bewildered stable-hand led her away. The company followed suit, awaiting the dismissal of their leader. A final "huzzah!" heralded their departure, eager even in their weariness for their anticipated reunions. Yet, even in this otherwise joyous homecoming, Arturia ap Pendragon frowned slightly as her sea-green eyes scanned the courtyard, as if expecting to find something there that was conspicuously absent. But whatever she expected to see was not to be found.
Though every bit as weary as the knights she commanded, Arturia carefully suppressed any sign of it, deliberately presenting a vision of strength and poise for the sake of the subjects who needed to believe in her. The sovereign must be the rock upon which the kingdom rested; she must not show frailty and must exude all the virtues of chivalry at all times. Their victory must be nothing short of the expected outcome, as natural as the waves against the white shores of Gwaych, the province the Black Company had successfully defended from corruption.
With measured, graceful steps, the Queen of Britain made her way to the great hall.
[OOC: Prose or action tags are fine, whichever is your preference.]
no subject
"As of this moment, I must make an account of the court, beginning with the garrison. Those who are absent must be accounted for, though refrain from assumptions."
Training would definitely be on the agenda once things had settled down. "No. They should merely be accounted for...I shall conduct investigations once my decision is made on how to present this to the kingdom."
no subject
But for her, this ruthlessness was all part of her duty. She had to compensate for her King. Her noble, innocent, and pure King who, if anything, could be too trusting or forgiving.
"Understood."
Her killing intent mostly disappears. She knows that the King is being cautious, but it still strikes her as a little too merciful.
"Shall I prepare your toilet and clothing? Or perhaps your meat and chamber?"