Standing in the Way (Paladin)

[Peregrine Alexander]

x

it's that's how it's gotta be
it's coming down to more than apathy

A layer of pure white snow covered the land as Peregrine led Vollo, his Holsteiner stallion, out of the stables, saddled in his tack reserved for hacking, recreational jousting, randomly riding around and of course, the noble sport of hunting. No one had ever said that killing innocent animals of the forest was particularly noble, but Peregrine, who had been raised to believe such, had no qualms with it.

However, he was not so much in the mood to shoot arrows at deer, wild boars or even squirrels. What drew him to the woods was not the lure of pheasants, but a message from his father. Yes, as much as the prince detested the king, he was waiting there, dressed “decently”, in his opinion, in light brown breeches, the color of a fawn’s coat, a tunic of dark green, a long-sleeved white shirt under that and a cloak the color of a night sky, from all the light has not completely faded. Around his waist, he had his black leather belt, from which hung his sword, his Gaelic Claymore, Revenger. That thing seriously needed a new name, preferably a name in another language.

Vollo was groomed, which was unusual, but it was more in the norm than the prince’s slightly tamed appearance. He still looked as wild and as different as ever, but some of his dark hair, which was starting to chance color ever-so slightly to a copper-brown, reddish tone, was pulled back into a half ponytail. This gave him the appearance of a fae. Or at least, that was what the serving girl who walked passed him with a pile of laundry thought. In addition, the young warrior-prince carried his bow and a quiver full of arrows across his scrawny, but strong back and there was a dagger hanging from a small scabbard at his belt.

He led Vollo in a few circles before he mounted, leading him up alongside a tree stomp and swinging onto his powerful back. Peregrine had learnt how to mount from the ground, but Vollo was massive, not to mention tall not only from his hooves to his withers, but when he raised his head or reared up on his hind legs. Therefore, Peregrine used whatever was close by to help himself onto his mighty steed. That tree stump would have been gone by now, however. They usually were. Another tree might appear in its place, but his father’s steward would have probably had the debris cleared away by now. It was odd, to say the least.

Once sitting astride the back of the powerful horse, Peregrine made him walk about the courtyard, even though the big, black stallion was more inclined to gorge himself on the fresh, green grass, which would, no doubt, cause him to founder. For many years, Vollo had served him so well; he could not afford to lose the horse now, for he had become much more than a mere horse.

let's rearrange
i wish you were a stranger
i could disengage

______________________________

word count: 500
listening to: accidentally in love by counting crows
lyrics credit: over my head (cable car) by the fray
mood: excellent
notes: it's raining!!!!!!!!!!
tagged: paladin

[/blockquote] [/blockquote]

[``Paladin Alexander]

yes, I received your letter yesterday
(about the time the door knob broke)
when you asked how I was doing
was that some kind of joke?
all these people that you mention
yes, I know them, theyre quite lame

It was very cold, Paladin was not surprised to 'discover' as he strode through the un-heated castle hall that led to the human quarters and the equine quarters. Long, effortless strides ate up the ground in leaps and bounds, his bearing straight and immaculately held as if he wasn't moving at pace that smaller men had trouble keeping up with, a pace that was quite normal for him. He moved confidently over the flooring, as if he owned the place - which, as a matter of fact, he did.

It was cold. That was perhaps an understatement of erroneous proportions; it was February, winter, and in Scotland, winter was chilly, it was not cold - it was bloody fecking frigid. When the weather was devoid of rain or snow, it was almost always filled with wind. Cold fronts blew in year round, time and time again. Even when it was summer, it was still quite chilly. The lowlanders and the Sassenachs had it running around on the rumor mill that the constant cold blew up their sarks and toughened their skins - it was well known of the common Highlander's high threshold for cold and pain, something that served them well in battle.

D'uh, d'uh, d'uh... the rapid staccato of boot-falls were barely audible, their bearer quite practiced in the art of walking silently. The boots themselves were black knee-high riding boots, a tell-tale sign that the man was headed to the stables. It had been a bit since his last visit, and, like the last time, his reason for going was not to simply enjoy the pleasures that the royal equines had to offer. Paladin actually very much doubted that this outing would hold any pleasure in any case, as what was next on his agenda once more involved interacting with his eldest son, Peregrine. They were always politically correct with one another, but their encounters tended to have a rather noted lack of father and son moments.

The great man had to cease his relentless assault upon the floor for a few mere moments as the hall ended and he was instead confronted with a great door, the door that opened up into the stables. Heat radiated off the door, and a trill of anticipation managed to rear its weak little head. Whatever else might go on, the man liked his horses.

The door was almost too easy to open, as if even it knew, recognized, and respected who Paladin was, bowing out to his wishes and being eager to please. The gust of mixed manure and sweat blew at him on a heated wave, and underneath the less-than-pleasant scents, Paladin smelled the familiar horse scent.

The barn was full of horses, those too old to be out in the cold, those being held for knights and nobility, and those that had just been brought in for feeding. Every single animal sport a thick, fluffy coat; they looked pudgy, almost fat, and soft enough to want to sleep on. None of the horses in the stalls, however, were what the giant man was looking for, and he continued to stride purposefully past them.

Ah, there he was, Paladin no so much thought as felt when he saw his own horse at the very end of the large stable in front of him, fully tacked in gleaming black leather and dancing about the groom that held him. The aged stallion had been with Paladin for some time, and the man did - though he'd never confess - feel some fondness for the imported Irish Draught. Enough that he'd kept the bulky chestnut as his main mount even after the horse had begun to age past his prime. A few more years, Paladin was thinking, and the stallion would be put out to pasture with a few mares.

In no time at all (or so it seemed) the powerful man crossed the entire length of the stable, grabbing a hold of the reins and dismissing the groom with a careless wave of the hand. He had no need of a groom, not when he'd been riding since he was able to walk, and not when he'd been handling this horse for most of its life. Instead, he twisted the reins and put pressure on the bit, bringing to attention that the person holding the reins was in charge, and that he meant business.

Hierarchy established, the pair strode out the other great door and into the courtyard, where another horse and rider pair awaited. The horse was a stallion as well, a great black beast that stood a mere fourth of a hand taller than Cradilo and stood in as dark to Cradilo's light. The rider sat astride the black, body moving fluidly with his steed. His hair was dark, though not as dark as the stallion beneath him. He was also waiting for someone, that much could be seen. That someone, actually, was Paladin himself. The king to meet with his son.

After an initial gaze in which to register that there was indeed a person waiting for him, Paladin paid no further heed to the others, instead dropping the right stirrup to the very last hole. It was an old trick, one that allowed mere humans to mount great and mighty war horses from the ground without any further aid. Swiftly, with an ease and practice that bespoke years of experience, the blonde man slipped his left foot into the metal bar and then pushed up, swinging his right leg over the saddle and onto the other side; the man made sure to slip his right foot into the right stirrup before settling down on the back of his mount. The mount in question was pawing the ground, too obedient to take off, but far too excited to stand quiet and calm. And when his master finally gave him a small squeeze with his calves, the bright chestnut practically sprang forward, steps high and full of energy. Old in years, maybe, but young in mind and at heart.

i had to rearrange their faces
and give them all another name
right now I cant read too good
dont send me no more letters no
not unless you mail them
from desolation row


________________________________
[word count] 1002
[lyric credit] desolation row.bob dylan
[listening to] desolation row.bob dylan
[mood] happy go lucky
[notes] *snorts* innuendo totally unintended
2. oh, and me is almost wishing that me could have a detailed description (or drawing) of the layout of the castle. Me does not like making such things uuuupppp. *petulant pout*
3. sorry for the sploosh of filler and meaningless crap - me is just trying to get into Paladin (>.> no innuendo intended)

[Peregrine Alexander]

x

it's that's how it's gotta be
it's coming down to more than apathy

Peregrine looked up and it was to catch a glimpse of a man who looked absolutely nothing liked him. This man didn’t particularly liked him, he certainly didn’t love him and he maybe even hated him. Peregrine did know, all he knew was that he would be glad indeed when he would finally be rid of Paladin Alexander, King of Saor and he could move on with his day. Seriously, Paladin wanted to take him hunting? He wanted to take him out to kill boar, deer and rabbits? This wasn’t even a fox hunt, an exciting sport that usually involved many more people, not to mention the hounds, but a leisurely hunting with the king? What had he done to deserve this.

His long blonde hair reached his shoulders, maybe below them; Peregrine didn’t take the time or interest to notice. Why should he? He was not in denial that he hated the man. Of course, he would say that out loud. Paladin wouldn’t execute him for treason, he knew, but he was certain that a fair amount of unpleasantness would follow, it he was so foolish as to let something like that slip. The prince was a fool and that was a fact, but he wasn’t that much of a fool; he was one of the most intelligent people ever to be called a prince, or at least, so he thought. The king was a rather formidable, even threatening man, but he didn’t frighten Peregrine. He was very tall, much taller than the dark-haired boy astride the black stallion. He was heavy too and Peregrine knew he wasn’t naïve in thinking most of that weight came from pure muscle. His eyes, blue, a trait of his royal clan, were experienced and knew skill from bull s***. His skin was pale, but no unaccustomed the sun. He had a proud, even a cold face and he was proud of who he was, not to mention cold to almost everyone else.

In other words, he was the perfect king. A perfect member of the Alexander clan. He was perfect in every way, shape and form.

What a load of crap.

Without an initial word, Peregrine tore his gaze away from the blonde king mounting his horse. Oh, he thought he was so smart just because he could adjust his stirrup leathers. Yes, wonderful job, your majesty: you’ve learned how to make buckles and straps work! He tossed his head, making his long hair fall about his face, making him nothing like the prince he was supposed to be. Then, he turned Vollo off of his circle and headed into the words, leading the way without asking, unafraid of the one of the most powerful kings in the Western World; fearing neither his wrath nor his displeasure.

“Hello Father.”

let's rearrange
i wish you were a stranger
i could disengage

______________________________

word count: 462
listening to: i don't wanna miss a thing by aerosmith
lyrics credit: over my head (cable car) by the fray
mood: pretty good
notes: look! it's short

[/blockquote] [/blockquote]

[``Paladin Alexander]

OVERWROTE THE FECKING POST.
FECK. FECK.FECK.
FECK FECK FECK FECKITY MCFECK.

Peregrine was quite frank in which he went about his business, and his father found himself judging (as always) his son and finding him wanting. Decisis pennis. With disappointed hopes. Small though they had been.

"I did, indeed, Peregrine," Paladin answered his wayward offspring cold, finitely. And he left it at that. Now was not the best of times to tell Peregrine was he intended. They were far too close to the castle, and still, Paladin was considering what he would say to his son.

The man had spent several days thinking upon it. The idea he'd been toying with for so long. And what he wanted to have happen. And once he'd come to the conclusion of what was needed, he'd once again dove into thought, this time in how to present it to the future king. Not that he was concerned that Peregrine would refuse - but the boy was rather like a cat: if you wanted things to go smoothly, you had to let him think that whatever he was doing was his idea, something he was doing of his own free will. Should it come down to it, however, Paladin had absoutely no qualms of issuing a royal decree. To disobey that would be treason, which would be a stupid thing to do. The young Alexander was many things, but stupid he was not. For the most part, at least.

After what seemed like a good ten minutes of walking and thinking, the horses carrying their riders a good distance from civilization and the riders thinking whatevetr private thoughts were in their heads, the Scoailte monarch signalled for a halt.

Cradilo beneath him was still squirrely, dancing to and fro, pawwing at the earth, champing on the bit. The chestnut's rider ignored the actions, however, and instead spoke to the other rider. "What do you know of our relationship with Sceith?"

[word count] 318
[mood] plesased~!
[listening to] the poison glen. clannad
[notes] I am all caught up~!

[Peregrine Alexander]

x

it's that's how it's gotta be
it's coming down to more than apathy

Two words.

More than that he wasn't granted. Even as his father's son, prince of one of the most powerful kingdoms in the Western World, that was all he was granted, the skilled warrior that he was, he was only permitted the limited three words from his father, nothing more. Vollo snorted, picking up on the other stallion's energy and Peregrine took advantage of that, spurring the great animal forward. He had but one goal in mind: get this hunt over as quickly as possible. The sooner he could get this time with his father through with, the better. He did not want to spend more time with the man than was necessary.

Thus, he had his reasons for driving the conversation, speaking more than he usually would with the king. It was no secret, now, how much Peregrine loathed his father, and most of his family, for that matter and the prince knew that Paladin loathed him back and therefore, it was in both of their best interests to keep away from each other. So then, why had Paladin called him to him, insisted that he hunt with him? He had only requested that his son accompanied him once before and it had been then that the King had instructed him to lead a company of knights into battle, for the very first time. Peregrine had been sixteen.

So, judging by past happenings, the man probably wanted something important from his son, a favor or a task completed and as he, personally had to speak with the prince, he had to be something terribly important, not doubt.

But what?

"You wanted to speak with me, father?" Peregrine finally questioned, hoping to get the matter, whatever it was, out and into the open at last.

let's rearrange
i wish you were a stranger
i could disengage

______________________________

word count: 301
listening to: i'm attempting to listen to i want to know what love is by celtic thunder, but it won't play
lyrics credit: over my head (cable car) by the fray
mood: pretty good
notes: it's short, but it's not crap. i favor quality over quantity anyway

[/blockquote] [/blockquote]

[``Paladin Alexander]

Peregrine was quite frank in which he went about his business, and his father found himself judging (as always) his son and finding him wanting. Decisis pennis. With disappointed hopes. Small though they had been.

"I did, indeed, Peregrine," Paladin answered his wayward offspring cold, finitely. And he left it at that. Now was not the best of times to tell Peregrine was he intended. They were far too close to the castle, and still, Paladin was considering what he would say to his son.

The man had spent several days thinking upon it. The idea he'd been toying with for so long. And what he wanted to have happen. And once he'd come to the conclusion of what was needed, he'd once again dove into thought, this time in how to present it to the future king. Not that he was concerned that Peregrine would refuse - but the boy was rather like a cat: if you wanted things to go smoothly, you had to let him think that whatever he was doing was his idea, something he was doing of his own free will. Should it come down to it, however, Paladin had absoutely no qualms of issuing a royal decree. To disobey that would be treason, which would be a stupid thing to do. The young Alexander was many things, but stupid he was not. For the most part, at least.

After what seemed like a good ten minutes of walking and thinking, the horses carrying their riders a good distance from civilization and the riders thinking whatevetr private thoughts were in their heads, the Scoailte monarch signalled for a halt.

Cradilo beneath him was still squirrely, dancing to and fro, pawwing at the earth, champing on the bit. The chestnut's rider ignored the actions, however, and instead spoke to the other rider. "What do you know of our relationship with Sceith?"

[word count] 318
[mood] plesased~!
[listening to] the poison glen. clannad
[notes] I am all caught up~!

[Peregrine Alexander]

x

it's that's how it's gotta be
it's coming down to more than apathy

They rode in silence for awhile and Peregrine kept Vollo on a short rein. For once, the horse behaved himself, not displaying his usual annoying habit of head-tossing or trying to slither and weave his way out of work in whatever twisted matter he could think up. It was almost as if he could feel his master's anxiety and the horse was not taking advantage of him.

Peregrine's mind was working at top speed. Why was Father so quiet? This usually meant that he had some sort of scheme going and the prince hardly ever liked his father's schemes. What he liked even less, was carrying said schemes out, for they normally not only failed, (thanks to Peregrine, most of the time) but he found most of the king's ideas to be highly immoral.

Finally, after they had traveled a short distance, Father opened his mouth and spoke.

"What do you know of our relationship with Sceith?"

Peregrine blinked. Exactly how stupid did his father think he was? They had been at war with Sceith before he was even born, had they not? Exactly what did his father think he missed? Peregrine had even led the army into battle, once. And although he didn't exactly walk around watching his every move in a mirror, he at least hoped that he didn't come off as stupid. He didn't try to.

"Er, we're at war." He explained, as if he had misheard. He opened his mouth a second time to add, "in case you haven't noticed", but he stopped himself just in time. Better save the fireworks for later, for they were almost certain to make their appearance. It was just the two of them, going to a secluded part of the forest. Had Peter or Pandion been there, Peregrine would have felt a lot less confident and a lot more irritated, but as it was, it was just him and his father.

He was fairly certain he could fight his father with one hand tied behind his back.

let's rearrange
i wish you were a stranger
i could disengage

______________________________

word count: 348
listening to: vienna by billy joel
lyrics credit: over my head (cable car) by the fray
mood: pretty good
notes: i'll pm xan inviting him to come into the thread if he wants

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