The Prince rolled his eyes as he strapped on his polished, pristine armour. Simon was tossing and turning in what was left of his sleep.
Iolas tried to ignore the man as he attempted to prepare himself for war. He had never been in such a high position in a time of true war.
He had played many war games with his siblings as children, apprenticed well to the royal swordsman, and had even accompanied his eldest sister to break up many a den of thieves, or helped his brother to run off a ship full of pirates, but truthfully Iolas wasn't confident that he was entirely ready for a war in its truest sense.
Despite this, he knew that he didn't have a choice. He strapped up his boots and stood tall, dressed as best as could for what was coming.
He turned toward Simon, who had yet to wake up. Fool, he thought, the burly blonde was talking in his sleep again. Mumbles that could not be understood.
Iolas tossed an empty cup at Simon, awakening him with a jolt.
"What was that for?" He asked groggily.
"You weren't awake. We have to leave soon, and I couldn't bear to listen to you talk in your sleep much longer"
Iolas replied.
"I was talking in my sleep?"
Simon asked with a sudden look of concern.
"What did I say?"
"Oh it was garbled nonsense for the most part, annoying never the less."
Answered the prince.
"But you did seem fixated on horticulture for a while."
"Horticulture?"
Simon scratched his head in a half asleep disbelief.
"Yes you kept mentioning... oh what was it?" Iolas thought back.
"A Dahlia, or was it a..."
"Delilah." Simon said outloud, but the prince was unsure if it was spoken to him or as a confirmation to himself.
"Ah yes, I think I've heard of those. Quite a beautiful flower if my memory serves. Where do they grow?"
Asked Iolas, attempting pleasantry.
"Mountains."
Was the one word reply Simon grunted before rising from the bed to start gathering the armour laid out for him.
Iolas winced as he twisted around to attach his scabbard.
His ribs had been damaged in his David and Goliath-esque fight, and he could see them posing an issue in the coming days. Alas, he didn't really have a choice. No rest for the wicked, he thought.
The two men quietly and subtly seethed with jealousy as they readied. But soon Iolas Iolas found his thoughts wandering to Adelaide, and his concern for her had not left him once since he had left her. Thoughts of her and all they had shared together was all Iolas had to console himself during the frosty night spent rowing, and he was, and always would be, adamant that she was the only thing that kept him from succumbing to the chilled depths.
He even desired her despite her title, and had no doubt in his heart that if she lost everything, there he'd be, waiting for her with open arms and a smile on his face. Iolas painfully thought softly of pale, freckled children with hair an impossible shade of red. The culmination of what could have been their love. He reminded himself for the hundredth time, She wasn't his, and her heart burned for Simon even if her body liked his more.
She would never love him the way she loved Simon, and he knew that.
Theirs was a pure one, full of all the things he knew he was not.
He was fire, bitterness, and regret, while this other man was a steady warmth, soft animals and mountain flowers.
Despite all this, Iolas would lay down his life to save hers, even if it meant she would be returning home to another man.
Iolas finished his dressing, preferring a suit of armour that much like the ships of his nation, was designed for speed and agility.
Simon's on the other hand was laiden with chain mail and metal, and looked so heavy only someone as strong as Simon could wear it and still fight with any effect. Though when putting it on the prince could see that the pieces were like strangers to him, and this was a man who had worn full armor few if any times in his life. When it came time to put on the shoulder pieces, slight growls of frustration turned the princes attention back toward the lesser lord.
Simon caught his eyes just as he raised a eyebrow.
"Go ahead and peer your nose at me. I am not going to pretend to know what I'm doing. I'm just the stable boy." Simon's words came out in a mix of frustration and resentment.
"May I help?"
His offer and the lack of condescension that it came out with took Simon off gaurd.
"I... I guess."
He answered awkwardly, and allowed the Prince to approach him.
Iolas took a few hesitant steps, and slowly, as if raising his hands in surrender, raised them up to the shoulder of the other man to help him properly attach his unruly armor.
There was an undeniable tension between the two of them as he did, and Simon kept his gaurd up. The act of allowing another man to tie on your armor was a nearly intimate one, something done between men who trusted each other without any doubt, such as brothers or lifelong friends, as it left you in a very vulnerable place, the perfect one for a knife in the back.
"Well this is a first for both of us, as I dont normally help those I've shared a bed with back into their clothes."
Iolas joked, trying to curb the other mans unease.
Simon couldn't help but laugh, and it did take some of the edge off.
He watched in awe as the princes long, nimble fingers expertly strapped his shoulder gaurds on. In disbelief of the whole thing, for in his heart he knew the Iolas of the past would have never done such a thing, no matter how clever his ruse. Looking upon him, as if for the first time, he noticed the eyes of not a villain, but instead a man who had been broken, and then put back together again.
"Thank you Iolas."
Simon greeted him informally for the first time ever. It was not an insult or disrespect, as the prince quickly realized; he was being treated as an actual person, not a villain, or overlord. Almost in fact, as an equal.
"It was no trouble, Sir Simon."
He replied in kind.
_______________________
A/N: Super fast update because I am bedridden. (Whoot whoot, I guess...?)
Antibiotics are helping A LOT and I am in way less pain today.
Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed the chapter. Please dont forget to tap that star!
-QueenofGeeks
YOU ARE READING
A Thorn In The Ice
Historical Fiction"I fully expected you to say that I was the sort of Prince whose story would involve going into cahoots with the dragon, rather than slaying it." Iolas smiled, but their was a level of seriousness to his statement. "That is where you are wrong, de...
