Re: The Woods -> The Deck
Put a sprout in the limelight, and do they not grow? A knight best thrived there. A knight found meaning through doing. From being used, being toyed with, being entertaining. If they didn't put on a good show for the joust, after all, who would bother to come?
And while we're being honest, the knight who was not a knight was mindlessly regurgitating years of historically-inaccurate movies and slept-through English classes. In short, a hot fucking mess. Bound to be a mistake somewhere. But knowing that required self-awareness, and there was precious fucking little of that tonight. If the princess was taking the night off from manners, the knight was taking theirs off from apologies. From consequences. From second guesses. Shame was squarely in Tomorrow Knight's court.
The knight rose with the princess and, breezing right past that inquiry into error, they scooped up a hand. Turned hand over beneath hers, and bowed slight to touch lips to the back of her fingers, just brief enough for hello. "And here, reminded. I never asked what I may call m'lady by," they murmured against fingers, before release. It was not repentant. "What doest thou prefer?" Yikes. This mess in their mouth, though. Tomorrow Knight was gonna have some fucking regrets.
There was no stutter in composure as the knight replied, "Heroes are made, m'lady. It is earned. One does not simply show up." Nope. Not even a hint of irony. There was nothing said about a knight who wrote themselves into a fairy tale. Were they defending their spotlight? Damn straight. This story was theirs. Already written, already cast. But like that secretive smile, they shuffled their cards back into the deck and hid their hands. Misdirection, distractions. Still standing as close as they were, nearly eye level with one another now, the knight gently curled a finger under the woman's chin. "How would thy know the lady is not the villain instead?" they rumbled, and hummed thoughtful. It wasn't leering. A knight did not leer. There was simply the weight of the gaze, and the way it could be felt on skin. Eyes flicked up again, twin tempests in the dark.
"Let's see. Where does the story begin? A drink? A dance?" The knight smiled again, enigma hidden behind closed mouth. "A parade? A feast? A fight? A ride? Or a—" Oh god. Oh god? No, wait. Back up. That. That one. "Yes, yes, I think a—fight. In the lady's honor, mayhaps." And there, a hot flutter in their breath, a distracted look in their eyes, while something wild roved in their gut. That smile widened, and flashed teeth.