Work Text:
Amethar is at the edge of the training grounds when he notices the new knight. They’re almost as tall as he is, which is impressive in and of itself, but then they shirk off their over-shirt and Amethar’s mouth goes dry. Their arms flex with each bash of their shield and Amethar can feel his jaw drop a little bit. Thankfully, it’s later in the day and the grounds are largely empty, so no one is there to see his reaction. Amethar thinks about making himself known, if only so he can learn their name, but with his luck they’ll insist on leaving to give Amethar the space, and that is the last thing he wants. So he settles in against a nearby fence and watches them train.
A few hours pass before he notices Lazuli heading towards him.
“Laz, have you seen the new Knight-?”
She smiles. “Oh, you mean Sir Theobald? He is my latest ward. I wonder if he’ll last longer than the others.”
Amethar nods distractedly, and Lazuli goes to introduce herself. He doesn’t catch most of their interaction, because he’s too busy noticing how Theo’s undershirt sticks to his chest, and then they’re walking back towards him, and Amethar snaps back into the moment.
“Prince Amethar,” Sir Theobald says, nodding in deference to him as he passes, and Amethar blinks at his voice. Fuck. Fuck.
Theo is two weeks into his formal wardship of Princess Lazuli, and he is sort of freaking out. Their introduction had gone well, he’d thought, though the Princess was more casual than he was comfortable with. He’d fit comfortably into the role, he’d thought. Was he not doing enough? Did the Princess not feel safe? Did the King not believe his skills to be sufficient?
Theo was at a loss to explain why the Prince felt it necessary to supervise all of his training sessions.
Well. Perhaps all was an exaggeration, but certainly he was there more often than not, watching Theo train from a distance, staring with an intensity that Theo found alarming. (Only alarming, and not anything else. Anything else would not be proper. Prince Amethar is fifth in line, but still a Prince. Theobald is a knight.)
(Though, the Prince is truly a sight in battle. He has a great amount of technical skill, and Theo respects it. Only respects it.) (...an impressive amount of skill…)
No matter what he does, the Prince continues to attend his practices. Theo has started experimenting with more complicated maneuvers, because he cannot think of another way to assure the Prince that he is capable of protecting the Princess without confronting him directly, and the idea of questioning the decisions of the royal family to their face makes him twitch. He grips his broadsword and begins. The stance is similar to the one he usually uses, but more flexible. He swings, and uses the momentum to swing twice more, before going smoothly into a hit with his shield that shatters the dummy he’s attacking.
He breathes deeply before looking up, only to see Prince Amethar walking away.
Theo feels his stomach drop, and quickly sheathes his sword and puts his shield carefully on the ground. He jogs in the Prince’s direction, praying to the Bulb he hasn’t just made a horrible mistake.
Does the Prince believe he was showboating? As a way to win favor? Has Theo just drastically miscalculated?
He can feel his heart racing, and he calls out for the Prince, wincing at the impropriety. The Prince ignores him, and even starts walking faster.
But Theo is quicker, and he catches up, and puts a paw on the Prince’s shoulder.
“Prince Amethar- could I have a word- if I have done anything to imply that the Princess Lazuli’s safety isn’t my utmost priority- and I swear by the Bulb, I am capable-”
The Prince looks at him, and his expression is stony, which doesn’t help Theo’s racing heart which isn’t solely about the exertion and may also be a result of their sudden closeness.
“Prince Amethar, I’m sorry if my practices have not been up to standard, but if you could just tell me what I’m doing wrong-”
He’s interrupted by a strangely hoarse laugh. “W-wrong, Theobald? Wrong ? Are you joking? You-”
Prince Amethar interrupts himself, and drags Theobald by his shoulder into a shadowed corner of the castle. Theo is suddenly very aware of how alone they are, and how quickly both he and the Prince are breathing, and he opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by Amethar leaning forward and kissing him.
“You, Sir Theobald,” Amethar pants, “aren’t doing anything wrong. Is this okay?”
Theo can feel how wide his eyes are. “I- you’re the Prince -”
Amethar waves a hand. “Forget about the Prince stuff for a second- is this,” he gestures at them, their bodies pressed close, “okay with you? If it’s not, you know, you’re free to go, I won’t say anything. I don’t want you to think you gotta do anything just ‘cause I’m a Prince.”
Theo truly does take a second to consider it, can feel the part of him that took his oaths screaming, but. Amethar stares at him, and Theobald thinks he can live with the guilt of being selfish just once. Just once. Theo nods.
(It is not just once.) (The war goes on.) (The battlefield is a lonely place, and Lazuli dies and they both failed her, but for a moment they can forget their failures in each other.)
The wedding between Prince Amethar of House Rocks and Lady Caramelinda of House Merengue is a beautiful ceremony, only slightly dampened by the lack of presence of those who died too early to see it.
Sir Theobald Gumbar stands not by his king’s side, but close enough to protect him in case of danger. His knights patrol the edges of the party, aided, for a given definition of the word, by the Tart Guard.
Theo takes note of Amethar’s formal wear only how hard it would be to fight or run in, and for no other reason. He truly does wish them the best.
Amethar catches his eye, and Theo nods, his face a mask of professionalism. Amethar nods back. Neither of them were ever under any illusions.
Theobald is a knight, and Amethar is his king. He will protect him as he always has, with everything he has to give.
He has always given everything he has to Amethar.
His blade, his shield, his loyalty.
His heart.