Room 303, Thursday Morning After Classes

[bitchprince]

Arthur had had to put on spandex for class. It had taken work. It had taken effort. And it had become completely impossible to get rid of, which explained why he stomped into 303 still in his suit.

Red and gold spandex looked nice on him, yes, like many things, but Up With It he would not put. He sat down on the bed and got to unlacing his boots as soon as possible while he waited for Merlin to show up and help him out.

Once the boy was gone, he'd be far more comfortable.

[[ for the ears, at first, and then open to anyone after now that he's back to being dressed properly ]]

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[withoutverona]

And there was Romeo's conscience, prickling away again. Arthur wasn't half-bad at this inspirational speech thing.

"My father's not a bad man," he said. "He just -- he didn't try enough to end things or change things. The money is his interest. But I'm starting to think that what you just said, about steel and mercy -- mercy takes more courage, if it's chosen for the right reasons."

[bitchprince]

"Mercy is strength," Arthur returned, after a short moment. "Is a courage of equal kind."

He tended to do his inspirational speeches best when he didn't realise he was doing it, or when people were about to get killed. Luckily, they weren't in the latter situation. "You have to try," he said. There had been another pause shortly preceding it for reasons he wasn't likely to go into. "It's hardly your father's failing, but when you have the option, you need to try."

[withoutverona]

"And if I don't try, we'll fall. I can't see that." It was odd; as much as Romeo had wanted to renounce his name once, he now saw it as -- a sort of honor. A blessing, and a curse, and a destiny, in eight letters. He'd lived for a reason; Montague might be the reason.

And if it wasn't, well, at least he had the chance to be a good man.

[bitchprince]

Arthur's mouth gave way to a slight smile; it wasn't particularly joyous, but it wasn't sad, at that. "You won't," he said, "There is no justice in the fall, not for you."

For Arthur himself, he had no idea -- just his father and his expectations, and Merlin and his expectations, and the people. Some of them fitted into the other, and others did not.

"I'll visit you if I can," he said, that knowledge settled well down in his stomach. "Someone needs to show you how to throw properly."

[withoutverona]

And the pillow Romeo threw there was much more carefully aimed, half to make a point, half because he was relieved nothing had changed.

"Of course you will," he said, and rose and cracked his neck. "I'll go finish my packing, and try to avoid being attacked by any inanimate objects along the way."