Just like a small question based on that one ask, but... might the lack of brown/black men in popular M/M ships have to do with people trying really hard not to be racist so they just... never feature black/brown men? Because I know several F/F ships with brown/black women, but I can't remember a single M/M or even M/F with a black/brown male love interest... well, maybe Link/Gan or Zelda/Gan? But besides that one... nothing rings a notable bell.
--
There are more than that, anon, even if there aren't a lot.
If we're talking about AO3, Link/Gan has 785 works. Finnpoe has 8,636. Sam/Bucky has 10,591. Do you just not watch live action media?
--
Part of it is "I don't know. I just don't find them hot for some reason..."-style racism. That can shift with time and exposure but there's no instant fix even if someone is interested in changing their own tastes.
Part of it is being instantly screamed at and held to higher standards. (And yes, no matter how much people want to whine and say this isn't true, it is true, and anyone who goes ahead and writes despite the haters will tell you so.)
Part of it is fear of messing up above and beyond fear of reactions. Personally, I think this is toxic white guilt-flavor time-wasting and it's better to try and fail than not try, but it's a massive factor in what some people choose to write.
A lot of it is simply the composition of the mega-franchises that tend to generate the ships with bajillions of works. If we're looking at AO3 circles, the biggest f/f ships are not that big. If you look at m/m ships of the same size, there are some with some guy who is not white and not a pale-skinned Asian.
Here's the AO3 f/f tag where you can directly see what's big in the sidebar.
Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor (20389)
Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan (15516)
Original Female Character(s)/Original Female Character(s) (14062)
Clarke Griffin/Lexa (12661)
Minor or Background Relationship(s) (11492)
Adora/Catra (She-Ra) (10855)
Amity Blight/Luz Noceda (9751)
Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (7913)
Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long (7205)
Korra/Asami Sato (6866)
If we exclude nonspecific tags and misplaced dudes, we add:
Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer (6127)
Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler (6120)
Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught (5738)
Luz Noceda and Korra have darker skin. Lana Parrilla is Latina, but is Regina Mills? This isn't exactly some paradise for the diversity you're talking about.
Here's the M/M tag:
Castiel/Dean Winchester (107699)
Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski (68231)
Sherlock Holmes/John Watson (65757)
Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter (64761)
James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers (59546)
Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) (48169)
Minor or Background Relationship(s) (47119)
Steve Rogers/Tony Stark (43665)
Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (41631)
Sirius Black/Remus Lupin (40374)
Let's exclude some things and see what we get as we head towards the 5-20k range.
Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku (38445)
Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V (36025)
Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn (35907)
Keith/Lance (Voltron) (31634)
Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester (30488)
Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood (29568)
Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) (28959)
Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin (28191)
Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter (27775)
Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou (27193)
Well, we've got Lance. (*shudder*) He's one of the most distasteful and useless stock character types in episode one and is the reason I never bothered to touch Voltron again, but his fans are certainly loud enough about him being Latino.
Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov (26087)
Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs) (26058)
Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF) (21900)
Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (21897)
Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) (21296)
Original Male Character/Original Male Character (21035)
Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion (20224)
James T. Kirk/Spock (18810)
Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru (18703)
Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin (18147)
Eddie Diaz is Latino.
Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel (17787)
Levi Ackerman/Eren Yeager (16950)
Dan Howell/Phil Lester (16818)
Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier (16229)
Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet (16193)
Harry Potter/Severus Snape (15551)
Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich (15539)
Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki (14990)
Keith/Shiro (Voltron) (14816)
Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio (14780)
We've got the Taika Waititi thirsters in this cohort.
Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier (14413)
Rodney McKay/John Sheppard (14209)
Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto (13135)
Tartaglia | Childe/Zhongli (Genshin Impact) (13016)
Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know (12962)
Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto (12878)
Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic (12817)
Loki/Thor (Marvel) (12767)
Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren (12391)
Frank Iero/Gerard Way (12146)
Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams (12050)
Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou (12002)
Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Min Yoongi | Suga (11898)
Jeon Jungkook/Min Yoongi | Suga (11352)
Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin (11101)
Levi Ackerman/Erwin Smith (11088)
Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones (11083)
Loki/Tony Stark (10699)
Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables) (10523)
Kim Taehyung | V/Park Jimin (10415)
Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield (10312)
Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard (10211)
Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi (9950)
Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne (9944)
Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee (9763)
Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington (9686)
Getou Suguru/Gojo Satoru (9625)
Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol (9471)
Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski (9367)
Clint Barton/Phil Coulson (9359)
Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist (9347)
Nico di Angelo/Will Solace (9317)
Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji (9186)
Wang Yi Bo/Xiao Zhan | Sean (8973)
Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg (8785)
Dabi | Todoroki Touya/Takami Keigo | Hawks (8710)
Alhaitham/Kaveh (Genshin Impact) (8657)
Peter Parker/Tony Stark (8607)
Bakugou Katsuki/Todoroki Shouto (8588)
James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson (8522)
Only here are we finally getting down to the range where a lot of the big f/f ships on AO3 hang out, and here's Sam/Bucky, which is frankly not a small pairing at all unless you only mean in comparison to Stucky.
I'll stop there for m/m since these numbers are getting pretty distorted by me filtering out everything higher up, but you get the idea. Even that wretched Old Guard fandom couldn't completely kill off its ship, though then we get into how you're defining your terms and how much actual skin tone matters.
Here's f/m on AO3:
Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug (32122)
Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy (26417)
Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s) (23498)
Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren (23403)
Minor or Background Relationship(s) (18497)
James Potter/Lily Evans Potter (18142)
Kylo Ren/Rey (15915)
James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader (15200)
Pepper Potts/Tony Stark (14547)
Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley (13843)
Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin (13551)
Fox Mulder/Dana Scully (13145)
Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak (11318)
Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan (11031)
Castiel/Dean Winchester (10851)
Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth (9236)
Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski (9152)
Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson (9141)
Other Relationship Tags to Be Added (9108)
Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper (9046)
Bellamy Blake's actor is Filipino, isn't he? I remember race wank.
I don't see anything particularly significant until we get further down the listings, but there are definitely smaller fandoms like Leverage where everybody loves and ships the black guy.
I mean, yes, clearly, media does have a bias against darker skin, and the darker the skin, the bigger the bias. This bias may be exacerbated by fandom, but in a lot of cases, it just seems to be replicated at about the same level.
That pattern notwithstanding, it seems like you just haven't heard of a lot of ships.
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heart set in stone series | chapter 7 | pendragon
Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | UPDATE TO SERIES RATING/ WARNINGS | Next Chapter | Main Masterlist
Pairing: King Arthur X F!Reader
Summary: Arthur attempts to gain his memory back.
Rating: M. Eventually Explicit. All my blogs and works are 18+ regardless of rating. Minors do not interact.
Warnings: Swearing, Angst, banter, switching POVs, Plot, amnesia, temporary amnesia, threat, one canon compliant Goosefat slap, uncontrolled magic, child illness, fear, implied child poisoning but they live
Words: 6k
A/N: some humor, some angst, some more starch thrown in the plot so its T H I C C hehehe
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The previous night | Goosefat
The hallway looked as though a barrel of black powder had exploded in it. Deep grooves marred the stone walls. The carpet along the floor ripped to tatters and banners across the walls now fallen scorched shreds. Luckily there didn’t seem to be any casualties amidst the chaos and carnage.
Still, Goosefat’s gaze scanned the wreckage with haste. The only eyes he met were the portraits within the paintings- still hanging on the walls in perfect arrangement. Arthur’s family painted within the frames yet untouched by the magic that had caused such damage everywhere else around them. Their intricate, golden frames gleaming under the lamp light in Goosefat’s grasp. Not a speck of dust or the smallest of scrapes to scar their canvas homes.
Goosefat’s brow furrowed further than when he’d first arrived. The echo of the blast and then shock wave that followed yet thrumming through his blood. His heart slams against his ribs because he’d felt that power before. Knew of only one person capable of wielding it. Of creating such destruction. And yet even with such abilities- what that person cared most deeply about remained unblemished even as he drew the wrath of the heavens and Gods and all the worst storms within his frame and through his sword.
Arthur had done this.
Why was yet to be discerned and Goosefat knew it could be for nothing good.
A crowd gathers at the corner of the intersecting hallway behind him. Whispered murmurs of shock and awe as they survey the damage.
“Locate the King,” Goosefat orders and they burst away with urgency at his commanding tone.
Curiously, none of the Havenport guests had appeared. They’d all but poked their nose in every pie and plot as of yet since their arrival. Like rodents with stomachs five times their beings. There wasn’t any gossip or drama they could be dragged away from. Why they avoided this wing of the castle when it was well within the party’s radius given how loud and ground shaking the blast had been didn’t bode well in Goosefat’s mind.
And where the hell was Arthur? Gossefat fretted, having lost the younger man earlier in the evening.
It didn’t matter that Arthur had been absent as of late. Goosefat couldn’t blame the younger man for his avoidant tendencies. Having a legend draped over your shoulders and then a crown laid upon your head with a kingdom dropped in your lap could have that effect, he supposed. He felt it in his own newfound responsibilities.
One of them being minding Arthur and his whereabouts, Goosefat begrudged. At least he was comforted that there wasn’t a grisly trail of Pendragon blood to follow. Goosefat supposed it was reassuring. If only mildly.
Arthur had a lifetime of darting in and out of illustrious dealings under his belt. It’s why he’d plucked Goosefat’s form out of the shadows of the brothel when Jack’s Eye’s had chased him there. Arthur had done it with ease. Discerned who did not belong as quickly as he drew his next breath before he’d given Goosefat up to the Sergeant. Arthur was good at spotting trouble and addressing it because as comforting as it was to not see Arthur’s fallen form amidst the destruction- it was as disconcerting to not see that his enemy was left behind either.
Goosefat shivered at the thought of what sort of being could survive Arthur’s magic.
Standing in the center of the troublesome scene- Goosefat hoped Arthur was equally as good at running from trouble as he was at taking care of it.
|||
Present Day | Arthur
“If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you’ve taken leave of your senses,” Arthur says, reeling at Goosefat’s words.
You’re engaged to be wed.
He wasn’t serious, Arthur reassures himself if only for a futile moment because Goosefat isn’t smiling. This isn’t him being an asshole making a joke in poor taste.
No, Goosefat holds Arthur gaze with a seriousness as though he’s just ordered Arthur’s execution.
Arthur sways beside the round table, one hand reaching done to balance himself against the solid feel of the wood. Dizziness hits him like when he’d first grasped the sword. Arthur nearly wishes he’d faint and be rid of the nonsense being thrown at him.
First, the fucking sword. Then Vortigern. Would he catch a break or was this the Fates disturbed version of it? Swinging at him so hard Arthur thinks he’s meant to shatter beneath it.
“I’m afraid I’ve never been more convinced that I’m the only one that hasn’t,” Goosefat offers reluctantly, fingers fiddling with his rings for a few moments. Gaze far away from where they are now before it lands on the crescent scar that still hasn’t gone silver over Arthur’s cheek. Like he longs for that time when they’d first met- well, for Arthur anyways.
Somehow it was simpler when their enemy was a clear cut as Vortigern. Severe and brutal as he was- at least his eyes blazed with flame and his form flickered with smoke and shadow even when he wasn’t in his demonic visage. If all the decency that could be commended of Vortigern was that he made a good enemy- one that made himself known from the beginning because he couldn’t help doing so- then so be it.
Because when Goosefat and Arthur lock eyes now- they’re both at a loss. A disadvantage of knowledge.
“For fuck’s sake, Goosefat, enlighten me,” Arthur says- not an order but a plea, desperation and confusion clouding his gaze.
“I was hoping you would cast light on the subject,” Goosefat sighs, “What do you remember of last evening?”
Arthur’s jaw ticks before he grabs a chair and throws himself into it with a great sigh. If he’s going to stress he may as well be seated. His hands card through his hair- still wet from the river, still smelling of starsium and soil when he pinches the bridge of his nose as he forces his mind to grate over the meager scraps of his recollection.
The dirt of the seedlings knocks against his memory like an arrow against his bow. Sliding into place so that he can feel his fingers wrap around the stalks. Arthur’s shoulder jump as he rips them from the plots in the castle gardens. Handfuls of them. There’s something soft in his grasp too. The blankets.
An urgency in his actions as he collects the plants. Arthur’s breath billows out in front of his face. It’s cold. Near freezing. He’s trying to save the elvium.
Snowflakes drift in front of his face.
A window. The moon.
Blue’s voice at his back.
“Where are you going? Can I come?” The boy had asked, the eagerness ringing in Arthur’s ears now. Blue always wanted to join Arthur in his adventures. Nevermind the loss of his father- of the boy nearly being killed by Mercia- if anything the threat and death he’d faced had forced him even closer to Arthur. Fueled his desire to be involved in the matters of King and castle like never before.
Stay, Blue,” Arthur says.
Goosefat pulls a seat beside him, his frame bent over itself, head poised near Arthur’s like he can lend some of his thoughts to aid his King’s. Goosefat wouldn’t be interested in his rogue gardening, Arthur ascertains. There’s no need to reveal the elvium or the herbalist.
“Blue,” Arthur offers a safer subject instead.
Goosefat hums before he asks, “At the party, yes?” and Arthur lifts a brow. Blue was meant to be resting. He’d been flushed in the wine cellars from his outburst- or perhaps fever from Jennie’s illness.
“You pulled him from beneath one of the tables. A ripple in the cloth was all you glimpsed before you bent and pulled him out by his ankle,’ Goosefat recalls with a small smile, “The boy was dipped in honey glaze from the pastries in his grasp. Bathed like Achilles in your sternness when you sent him away.”
Arthur tries to remember this action but falls short- only managing to draw forth the feel of fabric over Blue’s leg, the bright sparkling mischief in his young eyes. Arthur smiles despite the concern of emptiness surrounding the interaction. Blue was so much like himself at that age. Always finding trouble and the consequences attached.
“I do not recall that,” Arthur admits and Goosefat’s smile falls with a shake of his head.
“Perhaps if we take a walk, your memory will follow,” Goosefat offers and rises- pausing when Arthur doesn’t move. If anything the man sinks further into his seat- like a stubborn child. His golden brows knitted in concern. Goosefat clasps the meat of Arthur’s shoulder. Offering what little strength and comfort he can to the younger man now afraid to traverse his own home for how it has betrayed him.
“You’ve gotten your wish, Arthur. In a way, at least. The Princess has taken her leave to announce the proposal to Havenport,” Goosefat says and Arthur allows a breath of relief to fill his lungs. While he remembers nothing of his interactions with the she-snake, he’s grateful he won’t run into the woman when he can’t recall her scheming ways for all the life left within him. Arthur breathes easier if only for Goosefat’s next words to punch the air out of him.
“The next time you’ll see her is the day you’re to be wed,” Goosefat says dryly.
“I liked you more when you struck me with your hands,” Arthur mumbles, “Your words wound me,” Arthur continues, a hand to his heart as though a true pain aches in his chest before he stands and Goosefat allows a half hearted chuckle.
“Your humor won’t save you yet, my liege,” Goosefat says as they leave the round table room, “Now make haste, lest we be planning your funeral alongside your wedding.”
Arthur can’t help the laughter that booms from him, echoing off the walls in a burst of stress induced giddiness that doesn’t align with the sick feeling in his gut. For the tease is strong in Goosefat’s voice- and an awful truth rings clear in it as well.
Clear as the surge of magic that rises in Arthur all of a sudden. Surges through his frame like a lightning strike. His bones shake, his skin crawls before his vision whites over and Goosefat’s voice sounds far away.
“Arthur!” Goosefat calls, sharp with surprise when Arthur sinks to his knees. A blinding swirl of magic surrounds him before he slumps and it dissipates as quickly as it had come. The air that Arthur hauls into his lungs with force makes him look like a man drowning at sea and Goosefat gathers him up- prevents him from falling to the floor.
“M’fine,” Arthur heaves out. Breathless as his eyes return to their striking blue from the magic induced starlight they’d been for those fear filled heart beats.
“Yes, and I’m the King of Londinium,” Goosefat jests, concern rife in his tone.
Arthur laughs less than before. Weakly. Reluctantly. Like he’s worried any more emotion will spring another bout of magical unwieldiness from his body. Goosefat allows him to catch his breath before the King lets his head fall back on his shoulders- clear eyes catching Goosefat’s for a moment.
“Would you trade places with me?” Arthur asks, all earnestness in the hard set of his jaw so that he looks like the reflection of his father and Goosefat thinks for one held breath that Yes,in a heartbeat, he would. For his old friends' sake. For the one he holds in his arms now.
And then Arthur’s mouth lifts. One side of his lips quirk into that lazy grin of his before it splits his face wide.
“You treasonist bastard,” Arthur offers upwards and Goosefat lets him go with the sharp kiss of his hand and a small curse laden with his love and loyalty for the Pendragon bloodline.
|||
Arthur and Goosefat reach the great hall where the party was held. Servants working yet still to unladen the overflowing tables of food and ale from the celebrating. Anger simmers inside Arthur at all the wasted resources.
“In the wake of the announcement, the pantries and cellars were all but raided,” Goosefat admits with a sigh of frustration.
“On whose orders?” Arthur asks, knowing and yet still thrown off by the reply.
“Your as yet to be Queen’s order,” Goosefat answers, knocking Arthur with his shoulder in a not so subtle attempt to break Arthur’s rage when they feel the floor shaking under their feet. The King’s eyes flickering between starlight and their typical blue color.
Goosefat nods at the perimeter of the room and Arthur follows his gaze. Part of his wrath breaks for the shiver that replaces it when Arthur realizes his usual awareness has suffered for the onslaught of magic in his being. Typically, Arthur’s head was on swivel- constantly surveying his surroundings for threat.
But as of late his focus was narrow eyed. All of it on the Princess and her unwanted company in his castle. Distracted by her and yet all he’d done up until yester-eve was avoid her. And now Arthur was paying his dues thrice over. His magic is a restless flame searching for any emotion to fuel it. Stealing his energy and attention like the Princess had and he hadn’t even laid his gaze upon her. Now his awareness has faltered further. Beyond the pillars now decorated with both Londinium’s and Havenport’s banners a Havenport man watches them. His curious gaze unguarded.
“As much as she has taken her leave, there are still others who make it their purpose to know more than they should,” Goosefat warns as Arthur tries to temper his fury into something he can control. A barely lit flame in the center of his chest. Something he can curl his fist around until it fades. A tendril of smoke that he chokes with his will until it’s nothing. Until he’s no longer a danger to everyone around him.
The Mage had warned Arthur of comparing his power to fire.
“If you give it power to consume you then you become the fuel,” she’d said and it hadn’t made sense until Arthur had seen Vortigern’s final devil appearance. But the burning sensation inside him now- the one he’d woken up to- that feels like it eats him from the inside out- it’s too akin to flame for Arthur to call it anything else.
Goosefat’s voice cuts through his thoughts of ash and ruin.
“Does anything fascinate your memory?”
Arthur scans the space. The ceilings are staggeringly high so that he’d crane his head all the way back to view their gilded surface. The grand arc windows allow the afternoon light to pour in. The shadows cast by the tables trigger a thread to unravel in the fabric of his memory so that some of its tattered holes are seamed back together. The sides of his silky thoughts- slippery as he grasps at the edges- finally meet so that Arthur knows the snow and “Stay,Blue” come after this next part.
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The previous night | Arthur
Arthur makes his way to the rear terrace at a slow pace. Traversing the halls, he sidesteps the servants that hurry back and forth. The trail of clipped, anxious My lord’s follows him through the halls before they’re lost to the sound of music and people conversing and laughing as he approaches the party.
Guests begin to run by- stumbling with excitement and whatever they’ve consumed. Their eyes sparkling, glazed at the edges. A few of them startle at his presence- hiding giggles and smiles behind their hands. He doesn’t recognize any of them aside from the Havenport style of dress and hair.
The terrace is a swarm with them. Food and drink is on a constant stream of platters in such excess that Arthur begins to truly understand why the castle culinary cost has gone up exponentially these last few weeks.It seems the Havenport princess has entertained herself in his absence- and at his expense.
Arthur adheres to the perimeter of the celebrations. Managing to find a relatively quiet corner behind a large planter full of lush flowers nearly as tall as he.
Taking a mug of ale from a servant’s platter with his thanks, Arthur drinks deeply from it twice before Goosefat’s voice lifts behind him. Sneaky bastard. Always hiding amongst the shadows.
“While I’m pleased you’ve made an appearance as promised- the Princess has requested in no unclear terms that she wishes to lay her naked eyes upon you,” Goosefat says, nudging Arthur forwards and if he didn’t know better he’d say Bill’s finger was a knife pressed to his spine as they navigate the party goers and tables laden with a feast fit for the gods.
“She wishes to clear my larders, and lay her hands within my coin vault before we’re even acquainted, it appears. Bit rude innit?” Arthur hisses backwards.
“It’s been a rough winter for us all Arthur, and she’s had no one of your royal caliber to warm her bed-” Goosefat says but pauses- Arthur catches his gaze and follows it- knows this must be the Princess before Goosefat needs to say it.
She’s pretty- from what Arthur can see- her face hidden in the shoulder of a man that she’s curled herself around. Coiling her body around his like a cobra about to strike. She’s younger than he’d anticipated. Adorned in fine fabric, her body glistening with gems from crown to toe tip- she glints in the torch lights as though she wears scales instead of silk. The man ensnared in her grip seems entrenched in her beauty. Drowned in the purposeful air that hangs about her.
Relishing his attention, she commands the group that surrounds her as well. Every way her head turns theirs follow. Every lift and fall of her lips has their entire focus while she speaks and smiles and sneers through a tale that Arthur can’t pick out the words from the distance between them. The audience around her is a mixture of attention- some seem enchanted. Others hold an undercurrent of fear in their eyes whenever her gaze lingers on them. Possessing an acumen that belied her youthful appearance, she drew in courtiers and nobles alike.
There was something calculating in her demeanor. Like every conversation was something to be won, not simply shared. Like the company one kept was meant to be hoarded not plainly held.
Arthur knew of her before he wore the crown. Had heard tales of her rule while he was working in the brothel and cutting his youth on the streets of Londinium. This was the beloved Princess of Havenport- married to the late King. How the man died Arthur couldn’t recall. Hunting accident? Old age? Infection? In any case he’d carked it. Leaving behind this woman to lead his kingdom to glory.
Arthur hadn’t time nor care to learn of royal families and kingly politics in his old life. With a sigh he realizes he should have devoted more time to the matter once he wore the crown. He’d have to suss her out the old fashioned way. Something he’d been putting off since her arrival in his castle when he’d learned from Cecil that she intended to assuage the fear of war between their kingdoms- by any means necessary.
Arthur knew what women were capable of. Growing up surrounded by them and raised in the brothel. He wouldn’t underestimate her, although he tried ignoring her initially.
“Can’t blame a girl for begging your attention in the only way she thinks you care,” Goosefat offers with a frown and Arthur sighs, unruffled by the display in front of him except a part of him does care. If what he’s seen tonight is any indication- then the food being provided to these parties over these last few weeks could have fed the entire east village for a month at least- maybe two.
Goosefat has positioned Arthur well and deep into the center of the festivities. Far enough that the Princess’s attention drifts to the fuss that Arthur’s presence has caused. Her gaze meets his with a flash of curiosity. She laughs then, perched upon the lap of the nobleman, her head thrown back, her teeth gleaming like the gems that adorn her. Her mouth held open wide so that Arthur likened her to a snake yawning before it devoured its prey whole.
Arthur shivers.
The nobleman’s joke couldn’t have been that amusing.
Her laugh reminds him of his life in the brothel. When the women would laugh a touch too loud, hoping to draw more affection from their marks. More coin from their purses.
The laughter in her died, as fast as her liking for the nobleman she now discarded in her wake as she approached Arthur. Her gaze set upon him like a predator stalking its victim. Grabbing a bundle of grapes from the table, she raises the fruit and presses it to her lips, all the while holding his gaze.
Arthur’s jaw ticks. He huffs imperceptibly. Restrains the shake of his head.
She’s testing his boundaries. Probing for weakness. A challenge lay in her eyes plain as sunlight and yet Arthur couldn’t help but note the shrewdness of her approach.
Arthur stalks away before Goosefat can get a breath to begin the introductions.
Fuck this, Arthur thinks, refusing to play her games. She feasts not only on his provisions but the power to entertain such excess and extravaganza within his own castle walls.
|||
Present day | Arthur
“Christ, Goosefat- you were here- don’t you know what happened?” Arthur sighs, his memory blocked beyond the point his mind had reached.
Goosefat nods.
“You arrived, refused to greet her, had another drink and then dropped to one knee and proposed,” Goosefat informs him.
“Do not jest any further,” Arthur threatens on a groan, hands tugging at his golden hair.
“It would have been preferred,” Goosefat sighs, “At least we could have claimed you were off your head with drink. The truth of it is worse as no one knows except you and the Princess what transpired before the announcement.”
Arthur crosses his arms over his chest. Frustration emanating off his frame. The hair on the back of Goosefat’s nape stands on end. The start of Arthur’s magic attempting to make itself known once more.
“There is one more place you should lay your gaze upon,” Goosefat says before he leads Arthur to the damaged hallway and away from prying eyes.
“Somewhere between you storming off and this hallway, I lost you,” Goosefat says as Arthur surveys the destruction in front of them and Arthur doesn’t fail to note the heavy regret in Goosefat’s voice.
“I’m not a child for you to mind,” Arthur says, keen to assuage Goosefat’s need to place blame upon himself.
“Well, my liege, you certainly can act as one,” Goosefat says, but there’s no bitterness in the statement, only a weary sigh.
The hallway is destroyed. Unrecognizable from the ones they’d just traversed to reach it. Arthur doesn’t need to voice what he knows to be the source of this damage.It’s his doing. His magic.
“Anything?” Goosefat asks, urgency sharp in his tone.
“Nothing,” Arthur returns after a long time of attempting to will the memories to reach his awareness. But they remain outside of it. Lost beneath the dark surface of the sea of his mind. Arthur wonders if there’s anything that could spurn them forth. Some concoction…
The list in his vest pocket.
While he couldn’t recall it- Arthur and Enthiel had spoken at some point last night if only to be handed the list of medicines and artifacts to collect. Perhaps Enthiel would have some insights.
“Let’s take a stroll to the Doctor’s tower” Arthur says before he begins crossing the destruction.
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It takes much longer for the stench to hit him as Arthur climbs the steps. After a few more, Goosefat groans behind him, his face buried behind his hand.
“Gods, what is that awful smell?” Goosefat asks before he heaves at the door.
“The pantries and wine cellars weren’t the only places raided yesterday,” Arthur responds as they enter the tower.
Goosefat looks up at Arthur in shock- green from the scent of all the smashed potions and fermenting, preserved oils and items. All of the mess of yesterday had been cleared as well as it could. The broken glass has disappeared, leaving only the stained floorboards and shelves. Some of the higher ones are still dripping with foul ooze and ointments.
“Why wasn’t I informed?” Goosefat inquires, a note of disregard in his tone.
Arthur sighs.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “I’ve been- distracted,” he admits.
Enthiel appears from the latrine room- startled at the arrival of not one but two visitors to his usually neglected corner of the castle. His surprise gives way to a smile when he realizes one is a repeat guest- Arthur.
“My Lord,” Enthiel begins before he corrects, “Arthur. How can I help you?”
Arthur tugs the list out of his vest. Goosefat’s gaze narrows on it as he unfolds the parchment, keen to know what else Arthur has been hiding from him.
“Do you remember giving me this last night?” Arthur asks, handing the list to Enthiel but not before Goosefat snatches it. His gray gaze pouring over it like it holds all the kingdom’s secrets before he relinquished it to the young doctor with a somewhat embarrassed apology. Arthur’s comforted that he’s not the only one frustrated by being outside the loop.
Enthiel smiles awkwardly at the older man, before nodding at Arthur.
“Yes. In the recovery wing. We were with the children,” Enthiel supplies and Arthur lifts a brow at the plural.
As far as he knew Jennie was the only child in the castle that had fallen ill.
“Jennie?” Arthur asks, an urgency in his tone that lands sharp over Enthiel’s nerves. He flinches before he frowns.
“And Blue,” Enthiel says, “He’d only just arrived before you did.” Enthiel says and Goosefat nods with his entire body.
“Yes!” Goosefat exclaims, lifting his hands into the air as though in celebration before he points at Arthur, “Before you stormed off! You’d dragged him out from beneath the dessert table.”
Arthur’s voice rings in his own ears. A scold strong in its echoes. The boy runs off with arms full of pastries before the memory collapses.
“The page is awfully attached to the lady’s maid,” Enthiel chuckles softly, amused by Blue’s fondness for his friend. If love could save the girl she’d be spared for eternity, Enthiel thinks, concern furrowing his brow when he remembers how ill the lady’s maid had become. The last few hours had worsened her condition. Enthiel feared she may not survive to see the next sunrise.
“Forgive me, Arthur-” Enthiel begins, eyes flitting to Goosefat as he knows he steps outside his formalities by addressing the King by his plain name- nevermind that Arthur had ordered it be so- but Enthiel intends to step even further outside his rank with his next inquiry. “I don’t mean to exceed my position but did you by any chance manage to collect any of those medicines?” Enthiel asks, earnesty written all over him.
Arthur sighs with a heavy shake of his head.
“No,” Arthur admits and Enthiel bites his lip, attempts to disguise his disappointment by scrawling something over the top of the parchment list Arthur had given him.
“Speak what ails you, Doctor,” Goosefat orders as Enthiel’s script shakes with his hand.
Enthiel shakes where he stands as though he’s his own patient. But alas, it’s poor Jennie. Shivering with fever and chill and he’s not the potion nor oil nor aid aside bedside vigil to offer her.
“Jennie grows weaker by the breath,” Enthiel says, hanging his head and Arthur’s hands become fists. His heart feels caught within them. Aching for Adelyn’s sake, for Blue’s. For all the power of being a King when he has the likes of rats within the reaches of his walls. Thieving and thwarting and scheming.
“What illness has ensnared her?” Goosefat asks, while Arthur had inquired “Where is she?”
Enthiel addresses his King first.
“Her mother’s quarters,” Enthiel supplies with sorrow, “I’ve done all that I can with what I have left-” Enthiel sags against his desk. “Her mother’s comfort is the only thing remaining. The only hope we have as it stands.”
“Against what?” Goosefat inquires more forcibly, Arthur’s recent bout of temporary amnesia not a common occurrence in his experience of the younger man. It reeks of conspiracy. The worst sort of foulness. The kind that would have a child experimented upon to measure the dosage needed to poison a fully grown man. A King.
But they’d underestimated him. Perhaps, they didn’t know of Arthur’s magic. The power in his blood. How far it would go to protect him.
“What do you mean?” Enthiel asks, confusion swarming his features as Arthur stalks the stained floors. Mind spinning along the path that Goosefat has set forth in it.
“Is it an infection or an infliction of the illest designs?” Goosefat all but shouts and Enthiel grasps his meaning with a look of jaw slackened horror before he stands straight. Spine lengthened to the height he usually slouches beneath but now he rushes to the shelves beyond Arthur. Tremoring hands scrabbling over the small bottles and vials with fervor.
“The list! Did I record it yet?” Enthiel cries, turning on his heel only for Arthur to meet him- a wall of intent blocking his path before Arthur speaks.
“Keep searching the shelves,” Arthur commands with a small shove, enough to spin Enthiel back to the scrawled bottles. Arthur didn’t have a hope in hell of reading those labels- but the list he could manage well enough with how many times he and the herbalist had poured over it.
“What do you search for, doctor?: Goosefat says as he snatches the list and thrusts it into Arthur’s grip.
“Saltpetre!” Enthiel responds, voice louder than Arthur had ever heard it. The thud of bottles hitting wood accenting his urgency while Arthur and Goosefat butted heads to scan the list.
“It’s not written here!” Arthur shouts, allowing a small smile to grace his features while Goosefat spent a moment longer to check their efforts twice. Enthiel doesn’t reply save for increasing his speed of frantically reading labels. Arthur’s hope lasts the moment it takes to register that Enthiel has barely scoured a quarter of one shelf that spans the entire length of the wall- Gods, there were so many bottles left.How long could Jennie last?
Goosefat lifts his gaze, and surmises the same as Arthur with a curse.
“Saltpetre,” Goosefat says under his breath. Over and over like he’s trying to recall a dream.
“Saltpetre?” Goosefat’s tone shifts to something incredulous, peaking Arthur’s focus from the fistful of vials he was attempting to read.
“Like black powder?” Goosefat asks and Enthiel’s hands halt over the shelves.
“Yes! Exactly, yes!” Enthiel says, and Goosefat shoots Arthur a wicked grin.
“Well, I know where we can find entire barrels worth of that!” Goosefat says, all but skipping to the tower exit.
A short visit to the castle armory and the three men arrive in the servant’s wing. Tucked behind the kitchens is Adelyn’s and Jennie’s room where they find the mother embracing her daughter in their lone bed. A solemn mood falls over the hopeful trio. As much as Enthiel had exclaimed the nature of the cure- he’d been cautious to restrain their expectations lest the medicine not be administered in time.
The child looks pale. A sheen of sweat over her face. In the dim candlelight, her chest barely lifts and falls with breath. Adelyn moves to stand and address the King and the doctor, but Arthur bends to meet her instead.
“My deepest apologies, Adelyn,,” Arthur offers, hand cradling the sweaty forehead of Jennie while his other hand grasps Adelyn’s. She holds onto him with a fierceness, as though to draw strength before she can speak. Somehow, she keeps her composure, Arthur remembers how Maggie used to do the same for him when he was ill.
“Thank you, my Lord,” Adelyn whispers, “Thank you! Doctor Enthiel’s care of my child has been appreciated.” she says, although her lip trembles when she continues, “She’s comfortable, is all a mother of my stature can ask.”
Enthiel strides forward with the procured substance.
“It’s alright to ask for more, Adelyn,” Enthiel says, pouring a spoonful of salt beneath Jennie’s tongue.
“But we must pray now.” Enthiel states, tucking Jennie’s mouth closed with gentle care.
In the cramped room they wait. For hours they take turns caring for and monitoring mother and child. Slowly, like the tide on a new moon- Jennie gains strength. Eventually, she thrashes- pulls air into her lungs to wail for her mother and they all release the breath they’d been holding.
Stepping out of earshot while Enthiel takes note of Jennie’s vitals- Goosefat and Arthur find refuge in the silent kitchen as sunrise greets them through the small windows. They share a tired sigh.
“What do you make of this?” Goosefat asks, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. He’d not slept the previous night either- had been busy searching for Arthur.
Arthur swallows around the lump in his throat. Lodged there since Jennie’s drained form had reminded him of Ellie and all the other girls in the brothel to suffer from an infected, weak heart.
“Whoever poisoned her… whatever they used.. It went for her heart,” Arthur says.
Goosefat nods, staring at Arthur’s chest. The list tucked back in his vest. Goosefat reaches forth and plucks it from its pocket, unfolding the parchment to consider Enthiel’s addition along with the rest.
“I suppose somewhere here is the antidote,” he says, offering the page for Arthur’s consideration.
“Aye,” Arthur nods, “And we’d be best not to delay its procurement,” Arthur says before Goosefat plucks it from its grasp once more.
“There are duties you should delegate, my liege” Goosefat scolds but Arthur grabs the list back before shoving it into a deeper pocket of his vest.
“I already have,” Arthur says, a flush running through him when Goosefat regards him with renewed interest that not even his fatigue can disguise.
“Oh!” Goosefat says, sarcasm dripping from the exclamation, “Pray tell who you’ve kept company with when all you could recall of this day was tramping through the woods with but only the wind between your ears.”
Arthur averts his gaze from the older man.
“She must be worth remembering,” Goosefat implores, leaning further into Arthur to catch his gaze but Jennie’s cries interrupts their conversation. Enthiel’s head appears at the doorway, brows furrowed.
“She calls for the page,” Enthiel says and Arthur lifts his brow.
“Where is that troublesome boy anyways?” Goosefat murmurs.
“He’ll turn up somewhere,” Arthur assures Enthiel even though worry strikes through him like a lance. Sometime soon, Arthur prayed. What with all the child poisoners about. Enthiel disappears just in time for a burst of magic to thrum at the center of Arthur’s chest- close enough that Goosefat slaps it out of surprise.
“Gods, you need to get a grasp on that, and quick,” Goosefat says.
“M’sorry,” Arthur says, a breathlessness to his voice like the stone in his throat had wedged its way back from earlier. The white of his magic shining on the waterline of his eyes as he blinks away tears of worry.
“He’s a clever lad, Arthur” Goosefat offers softly, and the magic that thrums alongside Arthur’s heart settles for a few beats. “He’s bright enough to stay clear of that sort of trouble.”
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