Arthur Pendragon

She raised her eyebrows.  “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds terrifying to navigate, and it gives me the smallest shred of sympathy for my own father.  There were two of us and my mother died upon the birth of my sister.  He had to manage it all alone.”  She tilted her head.  “Then again, his impulse was to ignore me and to dote on my sister, so I can only extend myself so much.” 

Originally posted by kara-danvers-lena-luthor

“Then, it appears he was making a mistake,” he said, offering a short smile before gazing down to the dog and giving him a gentle pat to the head. “Parents are complicated beasts. My own were hardly much better. Though in many ways, people shall always be people. Their flaws do not cease to be upon the birth of a child. If anything, for all her greatness, she seems to have exacerbated mine.”

She tried to look at her reflection in the bottle, but decided it didn’t matter.  Arthur had seen her in worse states than this after all, and he still seemed to want to keep her company from time to time.  His explanation did very little to clarify the situation, but she supposed if he found some solution, whatever was needed to be done would be worth it.  “As long as you’re okay when this is all over.  Finding a good drinking buddy is not a task I wish to endure again,” she declared, tapping her bottle against his again.  “I’m glad you’ve figured it out.  If there is anything I can do to assist you, do not hesitate to ask.”

He felt the vibration of the glass against his fingers and nodded faintly. “I assure you, my friendship shall not pass quite so easily. It will always be there,” he replied, pressing his lips into a warm smile and nudging her with his shoulder, before resting the bottle against his lap.

“Though I may have a favour for you. A few possessions, just a box worth. If you would not mind taking those to Astrid and my daughter in the coming days. I can leave the parcel on your doorstep if you so wish. Granted I would take it myself, but if it is indeed the curse I suspect my condition may be, I would rather not risk transferring it to them before I find my solution.”

That, itself, may have been a slight lie. But he wanted them to have a few memories, a few notes and a few apologies the moment the news struck home, delivered to their doorstep before they knew anything was wrong - and not so soon Astrid’s keen eye could work him out.

The sound of his laughter and sight of his smile was surprising, but not the least bit unwelcome.  Whatever it was he had figured out, it clearly had put him in a good mood, and she was more than willing to enjoy it, no questions asked.  Besides, Arthur was a reasonable man.  Surely whatever conclusion he’d come to was a good one.  “Oh you love it,” she retorted, shooting him a wink before snagging one of the beers.  “I’m glad we can joke like this.  It’s more fun when there’s less malice involved.”

“Whosoever made out that I was joking?” He replied, eyebrow cocked with a seriousness that was betrayed by a smirk that tugged at his lips. In his own ways he adored Astrid almost as much as he loved his daughter. For her quirks, for bringing Aria into the world, because the older she got the more his little girl resembled the woman. And truth be told, there had been enough times he’d unfair to her. Less as a comment on her, and more because he couldn’t shame himself as easily as he could take it out on her.

Yet, moments like this made it all seem worth it, left a smidgen of doubt in his mind that what he planned to do was a grave mistake. And then he remembered that he’d go back home and darkness would tug back in, feeling oh so much worse for his moment in the light.

“It’s rather nice there are fathers who take that job seriously.”  She fixed a small but genuine smile on him.  “And it’s good to know that small humans are the same as adult humans in some respects.”

His lips pressed into a thin line and he offered something of a grateful nod. Though frankly, he couldn’t imagine the horror of a day in the body of a man who didn’t worry about the quantities of snacks and juice he had on him at any given time. They solved most problems, after all. “All the emotions of a grown woman, concentrated.”

“A businessman being an arse.  I am shocked,” she retorted, her words dripping with sarcasm.  She took another swig from the bottle, moving to the closet to grab a towel to wipe the mess from her face.  If she couldn’t shower, the least she could do was make herself look a little more presentable.  “Good.  I’m not sure I could have a priest for a drinking buddy,” she declared, nodding sternly once.  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you the part that is tethered to the curse you claim exists?  Or is there something that I’m missing here?”

He laughed a little and nodded. There were always conmen and tricksters in the ranks of business, at any level. The higher one got, the more frequent they became. But he was half convinced that Pierce was of the likes he’d never seen before. Something far starker than the average businessman.

Though the thought was quickly sidetracked by a faint leap in his chest. Perhaps he’d said a little too much. “There are- parts of me that are tethered, I suppose.There are also external links which can be tackled.”

“You sound like you’re being dramatic, which isn’t exactly unlike you, but I didn’t realize your past still weighed so heavily on you,” she admitted, frowning slightly.  However, since he seemed to be insistent on moving on from that, the rattle of the beers a reminder of his reason for being there, she decided to let it go.  “Are you really sure you want to risk it?  I know Aria’s been asking for a brother or sister, but we don’t actually have to give her one,” she joked.

He let a quiet snort of laughter from his nose and raised a shoulder. He’d never though himself dramatic but perhaps he was. As much as he claimed to dislike drama he seemed to attract it, if not create it. “I forgot your mind was filth,” he replied, tone light as a smile pressed into the corner of his mouth.

“Well that’s enlightening.  You will have to tell me the story of how you came to that conclusion,” she insisted, taking another pull from her beer.  Her brows rose at his wording, then furrowed in confusion.  “I’m not sure I understand your meaning.  Is this your way of saying you have decided to become a priest or something?  What does ‘the old fashioned way’ entail?”

“In due course. Though it was hardly the most interesting story and largely revolves around the man in question being an absolute arse, to put it plainly,” he said, dismissively waving the beer int he air between them. Why he hadn’t seen it in Pierce much sooner was anyone guess, though most likely because, before, it had hinged on the hope that the creations the other man made would protect the odd family he’d cobbled together out of parts.

“But no, fortunately not. However almighty my bellow may sound,” he laughed quietly. “It is a process of watching patterns and breaking cycles. Destroy the part that is tethered to the curse and let lives run unhindered.”

“Misfortune?” she repeated, brows furrowing as her eyes followed him.  She knew that Arthur had always been a grump, but she wasn’t sure she knew what ‘misfortune’ he was talking about.  “’Break the cycle’?  Arthur, I’m not following anything you’re saying right now,” she admitted, crossing her arms over her chest.  “Did something happen that I don’t know about?  A few somethings?  I didn’t think you were having a hard time…”

Arthur shook his head. He’d spent so much time dealing with other people’s problems, with wars, with councils, communicating and forming treaties and even now he could hardly suffer someone else a moment of his own misery. It was his own doing, after all, and the less people knew the less it mattered. “No more than it every has. My past has haunted me from the moment I set foot on this land, I should hardly expect anything less. But either way, it is trivial,” he said, brushing off the thought with a rattle of the case in his fingers. “I am here to celebrate.”

El had to try not to have a look at the thought of a child.  She still wasn’t totally used to children not being terrified of her (because she was green) or hating her (because the wizard had spread rumors about her.)   “That will be fine,” she agreed, purposefully keeping her tone light.  “Does she need snacks or anything?  I can be prepared.” 

“Last I checked, as the father I believe it is my job to be the Snack Bearer. Though she is rather well behaved when she wants to be.” Though most of the time, Aria had realised she could pull his strings like a puppet master and took full advantage of it. And while he was fully aware of it, he also was not inclined to resist. At least, in the presence of a stranger he hoped she might try to show off how good she was.

Kate was exhausted from a long day at the Forge, her face and most of her body covered in dirt and ash.  She had every intention of taking a shower, but no more than two minutes since she got home, there was a knock on the door.  She slowly made her way there, calling out, “I’m coming!”  She grumbled a bit more before opening the door, her mood improving greatly at the sight of Arthur.  His words, however, left her with a quirked brow as she took the beer and opened it on her railing.  “Your curse, huh?” she asked, taking a long pull from the bottle before leading him inside.  “Care to enlighten me on how you plan on breaking it?  You have not been to that Magic Shack, have you?  Because I am rather certain it is full of tricks and hoaxes.”

Arthurs let a quiet huff of laughter from his nose and shook his head, following behind her and taking a beer for himself. “Heavens no. I have met the owner of that establishment enough times to realise that he is a heartless crook at best and something far more sinister at worst,” he said, pulling the lid free and raising the bottle. “I simply plan to resolve it the old fashioned way.” His eyes flickered to one side of the room as he thought. “Appeal to the Gods. Something of that ilk.”

“So your cursed now?” Shock asked as she looked at the beer. She took the bottle, but didn’t open it. “Where have you’ve been anyway?”

Arthur blinked down at the bottle, suddenly reevaluating the thought of giving alcohol to a minor, however much he wished to celebrate. Though t this point, he was hardly going to wrestle it back out of her hands. “I was always cursed,” he said, letting a short, almost amused breath from his nose. “But I have been keeping to myself and my work. Is that almost the sound of concern or should I not raise my hopes so high?”

Aria was down for her nap, giving Astrid some much needed quiet time to herself.  She was folding some laundry when there was a knock on the door, and she made her way over, surprised by the face and beer that greeted her.  “I’m sorry, what?” she muttered, shaking her head slightly.  She stepped back, holding the door open and gesturing for him to enter before taking the beer he had held out to her.  “Did you just say curse?  What are you talking about?” she asked, giving him a befuddled look.

Arthur shrugged and shook his head, as though it was of little consequence. Somewhere in the weeks spent avoiding ways to alert her of his struggle, he’d forgotten he’d barely mentioned the thought in her presence - fearful perhaps, that she’d take the girl away from him. Though now, it didn’t really matter anyway. “The misfortune, I suppose,” he answered finally, as he stepped into the space, suddenly conscious that it was no longer Astrid alone who lived there. “It has stalked me for as long as I have been here and I think I know how to break the cycle.”

And too, he supposed, on a summer’s morning, staring into the matte white of the ceiling and realising he’d never finished his tale.

He’d left later that day with a slight spring in his step, grabbing a few beers and taking them with him to share a moment of happiness with friend. For the darkness would end and Aria, bless her sweet soul, would get a father she deserved. “I think,” he smiled softly, hardly waiting for the door to open before he held out a bottle, “I have worked out how to break my curse. A toast?”

She had to admit, it meant a lot to hear that he trusted her judgement.  Considering he had found her so unsuitable to be a mother that he tried to talk her out of it when their complicated relationship began, the words carried much more weight than she thought either of them realized.  She’d always thought of Arthur as a partner, her co-parent to Aria and the one person she could turn to when she struggled as a mom, but this made that partnership feel so much stronger.  “Thank you, Arthur,” she replied, smiling softly.  “That means a lot to me,” she added, reaching over and squeezing the hand that wasn’t at the back of his neck.  “And don’t worry.  This is not an attempt to replace you, because that’s just not possible.  You’ll always be Aria’s father, and despite everything I may have said in the past, I’m truly very grateful that you are.”

Arthur took a deep breath and tried to keep the look of doubt off his face. Before he’d been so gripped with the love of her, that had been his only worry - his own incapacity to be a decent father, to give a child a life it deserved. As these weeks passed three years on, the message seemed ever more prevalent. Though, now he wasn’t wishing Aria out of his existence, but himself out of hers.

“Would you like a drink?” He asked, breaking away from the moment and raising to his feet in an attempt to deflect the conversation from things he’d rather not think about.

El nodded.  “I do.  Would you like to return at the same time tomorrow?”

“By all means. I may have my girl with me, if that is quite alright with you.”

She could tell she had him for a moment as he almost displayed good humor.  The reason she noticed is because it wasn’t typically a reaction she provoked in people.  The relaxing was also noticeable, however slight it was, and for very much the same reason.  

“Next question - how would you feel about leaving your dog here, castless, for 24 hours?  It would give you both a chance to rest and recover.  That is the only reason I ask.” 

His gaze flicked from the woman to the dog. It would certainly be lonely without him, he was quite used to the company - even if it was supposed to be his daughter’s dog. But, if the vet imagined it would help in anyway, he wouldn’t contest it. She was the expert, after all. “I cannot see any harm in it, if you think it worthwhile.”