@Playalot and
@oshizu Your impatience is rewarded! I had some time at work so I could get an update up ^^
1.1: King Material? The birds sang, the sun was bright overhead. The pounding of rubber soles against the pavement, the gentle click of nails against the same. There was something about the rhythm and cadence of a good run that put Blakely into a good mood. He grinned and looked back at his faithful companion.
"What ya think, Maxim? Keep going?"
The big dog gave a rough woof in answer. Blakely laughed. "That's what I thought, too!"
After a while, though, master and dog knew they had to go back home.
"C'mon, boy. Should get back." There was a hint of regret to his tone. There were days it was far easier to just keep running than it was to do the things he was supposed to. He knew there was little point in wishing it were otherwise. He had been born to the Dorans, a noble family with a storied and prestigious history. While he was proud of that history, he didn't feel as if he belonged. At least, not when it came to certain aspects.
He was still thinking of the letter he had received the day before. It wasn't everyday that one received a letter from the King, after all. The King's proposal had come as a shock. Oh, he had known the King had no intention of finding a new bride. It had been obvious from the look in his eyes every time Blakely had seen or spoken to him. Still, this was unprecedented. But it did make a certain amount of sense. Still, the fact that King Darian wanted him to partake in this was hard to contemplate.
As he headed up the steps with Maxim, the dog let out a another woof. "Yeah, yeah. No comments from you," Blakely chided with a grin.
Maxim cocked his head to the side. Blakely swore he was laughing at him. He often thought Maxim was smarter than most humans, including himself. Definitely more sensible, at any rate.
The two headed inside. "Stay." Maxim sat down obediently while Blakely headed upstairs to change.
Blakely had just finished donning his everyday clothes when there was a knock at the door of his quarters. "Come in."
The door opened a crack. "Lord Blakely? You have a visitor."
Blakely frowned. "Meredith?" She rarely called him 'Lord'. It was one of those things he hated. The woman had been with their family for years and had raised him after his parents died. For her to refer to him as Lord now was a subtle hint. That and her tone.
The door shut again. Pondering who it could be, Blakely opened the door and strode out. He made it downstairs and when he looked across, he noticed that the door was open and Meredith was bowing low. When he saw who stood in the doorway, his eyes widened. He quickened his step.
"Your Highness!"
King Darian smiled at Blakely and inclined his head. "I apologize for the intrusion."
Blakely shook his head. "No, not at all. I should be apologizing to you. I got your letter yesterday. I had planned on sending back a reply that I would come to you. I regret that you made the trip."
"Nonsense. I am the one that will be imposing upon you. It was only right I come. That and I have always enjoyed your beautiful home."
He heard a quiet clearing of the throat from Meredith near the door.
Remembering his manners, Blakely stood away from the door. "Please, come in. We can talk in the parlor." He led the King to the most comfortable area of the house and bid him to sit.
King Darian took a look around the room for a moment before taking the indicated seat.
"I remember coming here, to visit with your mother and father," he murmured quietly, a faraway look in his eye. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long to come for a proper visit and even sorrier that it took something of this nature to precipitate it."
Blakely shook his head. "Your Highness-"
King Darian held up a hand. "Please, I would prefer you not stand on such formality in your own home. Darian will do just fine."
At Blakely's hestitation, Darian chuckled. "If you feel that uncomfortable using my given name, sir will do."
Blakely's sigh of relief brought out another chuckle. "Old habits, sir." Blakely waited for the King to sit and then sat in the chair adjacent to him.
"I won't waste either of our time," the King began. "Blakely, I've followed you closely for a number of years. I know you excelled at your training. All of the knights speak highly of you. I also know that, despite your disdain for Court, you also excelled at your other studies."
Blakely winced. "It's not a- disdain, sir, so much as an- annoyance."
King Darian grinned. "Oh aye, I'm aware. I know it all seems rather silly. Some of it is tradition, some of it is just pomp and ceremony. I tend to agree with your opinion of it, but tradition has it's place." The grin faded. "Especially since I am about to throw some of the most important traditions out the window." He bowed his head, his eyes closed as he pulled in a breath. "After I lost my wife, by all rights, I should have wed another." He picked up his head and looked at Blakely, his gaze intense. "I didn't. I couldn't. I put being a man over being a King. I do not want this Kingdom, my people, to pay for that. I will not see this land plunged into a civil war, as Windenburg was. So I am asking more of you than I have the right to-"
"Sir, forgive my interruption-" The look in Blakely's eyes didn't ask for forgivness, "-but I don't think that is accurate. You have the right to ask whatever of me that you wish. My father swore his loyalty to you. My grandfather swore his loyalty to your father. So on, back to the first Bulwark. I swore my loyalty to you as soon as my training was completed." He paused long enough to pull in a deep breath. "I will do my best, sir. I care about this kingdom, too. If it means I may become King- so be it."
There was a pregnant pause for a moment as the two men's gaze met and held. King Darian threw back his head and roared with laughter. Blakely sat there, startled as the King struggled to control his mirth.
Still getting the laughter under control, King Darian wiped a few tears from his eyes. "How refreshing," he managed. He inhaled a breath, the last of the mirth dying away. "Thank you. Sorry to startle you. But it's the first time in a long time that someone has been honest with me. While I have observed you, there is a part of me that wondered what kind of ruler you might make. I think I know now."
He stood up. When Blakely would have risen, he waved him down. "No, no. Please, don't get up. I'll see myself out." Blakely sat there awkwardly for a moment, both his knightly training and his courtly training screaming at him. The King shook his head. "I'm sure we'll see each other again, lad. Go on. Relax for a little while." He stopped and winked at the younger man. "You'll be quite busy for the foreseeable future."
Blakely did as he was ordered (it was the only way he could think about it without wincing) and remained seated. The King wandered out. On the way, stopped and looked down at Maxim. He let the dog sniff his hand, then gave the animal a quick pat. "Good boy," Darian murmured. "Look after your master." Then the King was gone.
Blakely sat there a moment longer, then he got up and wandered over to the mantle. The mirror that hung above the fireplace greeted him with his own image. He stared at it for a long moment, wearing a grin he wasn't sure he felt at that moment. Grinning was better than the alternative. Meredith would have his head if he did any form of damage.
After a moment, he strode down the couple of steps, across the great room, then up the stairs toward the kitchen. Maxim stood up as well from his place and followed after his master. Blakely put food in Maxim's bowl.
Needing to clear his head, Blakely changed once again. Then he headed to the basement, where he had equipment set up. Though he would have preferred to forego the gloves, he didn't want Meredith to worry about his knuckles. So he put them on. Then he began to pummel the dummy in front of him.
As the rhythm of the movement and the sound of his gloves thudding against the canvas of the bag echoed around him, Blakely lost himself. He felt the tension drain out, be replaced by the pleasing burn of physical exertion. Only once he had worked up quite a sweat did he stop. He got up to the bathroom to wash up. He smiled. Meredith had left a towel out for him and had even filled up the tub. He normally bathed in the bathroom off of his quarters, but he figured this was her way of saying he needed a bath now.
Not one to annoy Meredith, Blakely slid into the warm water with a grunt. It felt good, the water. He lay there for a moment, letting it soak into his muscles. It wasn't the burn from the exercise that had made him exhausted.
There was a lot to think about. He'd told the King the truth. He cared about the Kingdom, but being King hadn't been part of the plan. Granted, there were two others that were involved. So there was still a chance that he wouldn't be King. Still, he had promised the King he would try. He couldn't give less than his best. If he became King, so be it.
*****
Technology was a marvel that Blakely couldn't get over. It wasn't exactly his forte, by any means, but he had learned enough to handle the tasks he had to complete on the force. He placed his sample in the tube, eyeing the amount of solution he had just added.
Though he had served his alloted time on the force when he had gone through his training, Blakely had remained. He thought it an honor to protect and serve. Though it was a force comprised of those from some of the other kingdoms, the other noble families tended to only participate in the minimum requirements. Blakely had chosen to remain, to see how far he could go. He knew many of the others thought him crazy. That was ok, by him. Work was just the distraction he needed for the time being.
That and Maxim. It was nice to come home, find the big dog waiting there for him. He'd often greet his master with a hug.
Then Maxim would get a treat and a good brushing.
He was a good guard dog... most of the time.
Truth be told, without Maxim and Meredith, Blakely was sure he would have gone stark raving mad by that point. Between the force and this competition, the stress was high. After a particularly trying day, when not even pounding on the bag for hours did anything to alleviate the raging flood of anxiety, Blakely was growling under his breath.
Meredith stopped him. "I know I didn't just hear that word come out of your mouth."
He had to bite his tongue. The venom was far too close to the surface for his liking. Meredith didn't deserve him taking his temper out on her. When he didn't say anything, Meredith pointed to the chair. "Sit."
Ill-tempered, he sat, wanting to get the lecture over with. It wasn't as if he didn't know what she was going to tell him already. He had heard it all already. He knew he wasn't a very good aristocrat. Never had been. He doubted he ever would be.
"Blakely, my boy." Her gentle tone surprised him. "Don't let this tear you down."
She reached a hand back to him and placed it on his shoulder. "Your parents would be so proud of you. I'm so proud of you."
He had to swallow past the lump in his throat. "I-I know I'm not the aristocrat you want me to be."
She waved that off. "That's not true. The fact of the matter is, you are more noble than anyone I know. Perhaps you could adhere to tradition more." She smiled softly at him. "But I wouldn't change you one little bit." She stood up and held her arms out.
The two hugged tightly. "You're the only family I have," he murmured to her. "I-I want to do you and my parents proud."
That night, Blakely went to sleep with a much lighter heart. No matter what happened, he would do his duty. Whether he became King or not, that was something he could promise absolutely.
