Kings And Queens

First Ride

Curtains of the windows were swept back, making Stiles groan, turning over in the bed to try and avoid the morning sunlight.

"Good morning, Prince Stiles," George, the servant, said,"A new day awaits."

That made his eyes open and it all came rushing back to him.

Time travel, Camelot, and having to pretend to be a prince.

Grunting, Stiles sat up, rubbing his face. Squinting in the sunlight he surveyed his surroundings, still not quite used to living in a sixth century castle especially since it's only been one night.

"The Queen has requested that you join her for breakfast," George said,"May I suggest that you take the bath while the water is still warm?"

"Alright, I get it," Stiles grumbled, going to the steaming copper tub at the opposite side of the room,"Whoa, what are you doing?" He asked George who was about to follow him with the towel and soap.

"Will you not be requiring any assistance?"

"No. Definitely not," Stiles said, grabbing the towel and soap from him,"I can clean myself."

"Of course, sire," George said bowing,"I will now see to your attire for the day."

Stiles shook his head after him, obviously there was going to have to be some changes to how George would work. He knew he was supposed to act like a Prince and all that, but Stiles was more than capable of washing himself and doing his own laundry.

Stiles let out a breath as he lowered himself into the bath, feeling like he had just stepped into the most comfortable hot tub of all time.

He washed quickly, despite how relaxing it was. And by the time he got out of the tub with the towel around his waist, George had come back with his clothes.

The underwear was definitely weird, instead of it being like shorts it was long pants that stopped at the middle of his shins but they were still surprisingly comfortable.

The next was his trousers, a simple black made from two bolts of fabric, just the right amount of bagginess but still more tight than the jeans Stiles usually wore.

He was given a dark gray tunic and a leather vest, and then there were the boots that would no doubt leave blisters on his feet through the day.

When he looked at himself in the mirror he couldn't recognize himself, he looked so different. Was he taller? He didn't couldn't place what else looked different, he looked almost...stronger, more confident, less of the teenage spaz he had been.

George came up behind him, a brush in hand when Stiles grabbed his arm before it touched his hair,"Don't bother. You'll just mess it up more."

"I assure you, sire--"

"Nope," Stiles said.

"Of course," George said and he led him to the dining room where Gwen already sat, along with Leon.

Gwen was at the head of the long table which made sense since she was the Queen, Leon sat on her left, so Stiles assumed he was meant to sit on her right.

His plate was set before him, bread, cheese, and sausage. That's it.

Stiles suddenly realized something. Coffee was discovered in the fifteenth century, and he fought back the urge to groan and complain about it because neither of them would understand it.

"I trust you rested well?" Gwen said, starting the conversation.

"Not really," Stiles answered, staring at his plate for a moment, before picking the small loaf of bread about as thick as his fist, tearing off a piece and putting it in his mouth. It was bland and flavorless. Dry as sand but he still managed to chew it and swallow it down with a gulp of water.