╳. servant of two masters

Silence lingered between the two as Pietro narrowed eyes at the blonde, posture stiffening as she remained dumbfounded, probably asserting her options and blaming her reasons – and yet, he couldn’t help but be drawn to why anyone would, out of all places, choose a museum to try and sneak around after dark. Still, he gripped on the side of his belt, on top of his gun, still unsure on whether her reasoning for being around was harmless or not – after all, maybe the blonde was just some odd type of art thief, albeit not too intimidating, if so. But that would be the perfect façade, wouldn’t it? Pressing his lips into a thin line, he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, figure leaning to the side and keeping an eye around for any sort of unexpected movement – but it never happened, and soon, her explanation echoed on the empty walls.

Arching a single brow as Aithusa began, the dark-eyed man held a single hand on par with his shoulders, as if letting her know he wasn’t about to do anything unexpected unless there was a need for it – although the definition of unexpected may vary. Feeling a low hum ring past his throat as the girl’s tone wasn’t exactly what he expected, Pietro cocked his head back at the undeniable sass, feeling the corners of his lips twist up in a side-smile, even if the darkness would prevent most people from noticing it. “On a dare?” He repeated, words rolling off his tongue slowly, arching a single brow back at her – and, finally, taking a few steps closer to the blonde. “Yeah, that’s…” he clicked his tongue, once again eyeing her from head to toe, “not gonna happen.”

Blinking at the tiptoeing, perhaps it was enough to send his stiff demeanor crumbling down, as an amused chortle soon fought its way out of his lips, free hand immediately moving towards his mouth, as if wanting to hide the fact he wasn’t taking his job as seriously as he probably should. “Ah, crap. Anyway,” he tried to get back on track, furrowing brows and drawing a deep breath in, “if you follow me out right away, though, I’ll pretend I believe you and won’t call the police.” Using it as a warning, he was probably supposed to report the incident either way, but it wasn’t a big museum after all – and honestly, no one would be too worried about it, given they just closed.

Her first instinct was to take a few steps back as he moved towards her but the fact that he seemed amused with her antics loosened her up a bit. She smiled wryly as he looked her up and down - no doubt trying to determine if she was armed or not, but he was cute and she wasn’t going to tell him to stop.

Arthur’s hand was reaching for the doorknob when he heard her peculiar request. Not tell Merlin. His mind couldn’t process such a thing. The things Merlin didn’t know about Arthur’s life were few to none. Arthur turned around to face Aithusa, suspicion growing within him. “Why?” Merlin had been a bit apprehensive when Arthur first mentioned bringing Aithusa with them to Camelot. 

“If I don’t tell Merlin, who will fix up a bed for me?” Said Arthur, trying to play it off like he wasn’t suspicious of her intentions now. He wasn’t buying into her excuse either. There were two knights standing outside her chambers. They already knew where the King was and with who.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“We’re alone.” He said, motioning around the room. There wasn’t a soul in sight, not even Merlin. “You can call me Arthur.” After the harrowing rescue, after knowing what she was, they were way past formalities. 

Arthur watched her, how small, withered and exhausted she looked and he placed a firm hand on her shoulder. “Your safe here.” He reassured her, going as far as to lean down a bit so that he could look her in the eyes. She was much shorter than he was so eye contact was a constant struggle. 

Looking into her eyes Arthur saw something familiar, the look of what would one day be known as post-traumatic stress. A trauma that they carried with them. “I’ll spend the night here.” He spoke in a tone fit for a King, leaving no room for questioning his decision. “I’ll ask Merlin to bring some extra blankets.” Because the King of Camelot was going to sleep on the floor.

Upon meeting Arthur for the first time, most people assumed he was arrogant, and selfish. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Arthur was caring, almost to a fault. He noticed things. For instance, he noticed her chapped lips and knowing all too well what causes this, he walks further into her chambers and towards the table in the center of the room, going ahead and pouring a cup of fresh water for her. She didn’t have to ask for it either. He then crosses the distance between them and holds the metal cup out towards her 

“I can have Gaius prepare you a sleeping draught.” This was Arthur trying to find an option that didn’t involve him sleeping in the same room as a beautiful woman. People liked to talk and they had already seen their King bring in a beautiful maiden who didn’t look like a lady of the court and was much too young to be Arthur’s ward.

@wiingless​ liked for a starter.

His steps echoed on the art-filled walls as Pietro paced down the marble floor, juggling a single flashlight up and down as dark eyes skimmed the empty corridors lazily, humming a familiar tune. The job had never been his first choice, but it paid the bills – and there weren’t many other options he could take on. Wetting his lips at the thought, he merely blinked as the lights went off, already used to the routine he followed night after night – being the only of his colleagues willing to take on night shifts.

Well, how else was he supposed to spend his nights, asleep? Disregarding the thought with an amused smile, Pietro flicked the torch on with ease, nearly smelling the coffee back at his bag, which caused him to pay far less attention to his surroundings than he should – and so, nearly missing the shadowy figure of someone standing at the back of the room. At first glance, it was easy to mistake the silhouette with a sculpture – and yet, as it moved, Pietro sharply shone a light its way, drawing both brows together at a blonde girl, most likely around his age. 

Taken aback by the presence of someone else, brown eyes studied her features for a solid moment, most likely looking for any signs of a threat, such as firearms and similars. “You can’t be here, we just closed.” He soundly announced, stiff tone, visibly unhappy at the unexpected turn the beginning of his night was taking. Resting a hand on the side of his belt, Pietro took a few steps towards her, jaw clenching as his eyes darted past the dimly-lit figure, making sure there was no one else hiding around.

She had already been second-guessing her decision before she was suddenly blinded by the light. Her heart had been racing, her thoughts, too, as she tried to rationalize that this was just innocent fun. Every teenager at some point in their lives snuck into a museum or store of some kind and stayed after hours -- not always to cause mischief, most of the time it was for bragging rights or video content. Aithusa, though, was there because someone had dared her to be. There was no bragging or fame she sought, just to get the friend off her back for “never having any fun”.  Being caught was something she had wanted to avoid as the lights had gone dim, and had fully intended to stay in her hiding spot a little longer but she had convinced herself -- albeit wrongly -- that the coast was clear. Staring dumbly at the guy in front of her for a long moment, she regretted everything.

“Look, calm down,” she stated with a tone that judged him for instantly getting uppity about her presence. “I’m not a thief or anything. Just... here on a dare.” Aithusa rolled her eyes. “You weren’t even supposed to see me so can we pretend that you didn’t and I just go hide out in a dark corner or something?” Pointing in random directions, she tip-toed a few steps away, hoping that he would let her go on her way even though she really doubted he would.