Distance Between Us | Peterick AU

6

On Saturday, a total of five days after everyone in the castle had begun to act oddly, Patrick knew he needed to get out into town somehow. He was suffocating within the walls, being hounded by everybody with books and card games to try and distract him from what was actually going on. It was ridiculous to him, he wasn't a child anymore, he deserved to know what was going on and why.

Pete had mentioned that he worked at a market on the weekends, and Patrick had been coming up with an excuse all week on how he could get out to see him.

He had convinced Simon that he very much wanted to go to the shoppes to find new swording gear, even though the instructor assured Patrick that he could get it himself. Patrick couldn't care less if he actually got it or not, but he desperately needed to get out of the home.

With a short goodbye to his mother, Patrick and Simon were riding in the carriage on the way to town. The prince was dressed with a long black coat and a hat he was instructed to pull further down once they had reached their destination. There wasn't too much risk of being recognized, as only a very small portion of the surrounding population had ever seen the prince or the rest of his royal family. There were always a few that could, though. It was better to be safe than sorry.

When they reached the higher-end store of weaponry, Patrick cursed himself for using that excuse as he walked past all of the displays of different fighting gadgets.

"What do you think of these?" Simon asked, holding up a pair of gloves when Patrick turned around. He had to admit, they were nice.

"Those look good," he responded casually. Another pair above Simon caught his eye. ". . .But these look even better."

Simon looked up, and immediately agreed when he found the ones the boy was speaking of. He reached up to grab them and let Patrick pull them on.

"They are very comfortable," he said as he pulled them down and wiggled his fingers in them.

Simon put his hands over the prince's and felt the material. "They seem to be made well. If you like them, we can purchase them."

Patrick nodded and removed the gloves. He was about to continue searching for other gear when he was reminded of the real reason why he was in town.

Before he could open his mouth to speak, Patrick was cut off by Simon suggesting the next plan of action.

"There is a fine blacksmith down more in the central part of town. I would like to take you there to see our options of a new sword."

He waited for Patrick's response, which consisted mostly of a jaw dropped stare. He hadn't gotten a new sword in years, and time was definitely showing itself on the one he had now. Suddenly his previous task was out of his mind.

They climbed back into the carriage after buying the pair of gloves and took off towards the civilized part of town as Simon said. There worked a highly-known blacksmith, where they had arrived only a little while later.

Simon helped Patrick out of the carriage that was parked on the side of the small, stone building and led him in. There were villagers walking around in the open room, but the instructor quickly pulled Patrick to the back door where an employee was standing and graciously let them though.

"Why hello, Simon!" The presumable blacksmith half-shouted when the two walked into his workroom. It was unbearably hot, but he didn't seem to notice.

Simon smiled. "Hello, Aengus. How are you today?"

"I'm good. It's very good to see you. Been awhile."

Patrick's instructor chuckled and nodded, then walked towards the blacksmith, pulling Patrick along.

"My dear one needs a new sword. A custom, if you will."