tampered | Log; ongoing

Log; ongoing

When; Wednesday morning
Rating; PG
Characters; Arthur

miss_waldorf
Summary; Just an innocent game of Tennis.
Log;

Blair had not realized how complicated the rules of Tennis was, but Arthur was a quick learner. It was as well, had it been minutely difficult to teach him, she might find herself storming away from frustration. The curse yesterday had her in a horrible mood, knowing that it would take at least weeks to lose all the disgusting calories she consumed. But she kept this thought to herself.

However, there was also that thought about Arthur and Lucy. Blair was not one to pretend that things are alright when they are not, only she was usually in a position to yell and scream at the person. This time she was not. He was Arthur after all, and what right had she to even ask him about it? Well, she had been a little curt today, but she could blame it on other things if he asks.

Positioning herself for a serve, she threw the ball up and made a little jump to hit it while it was still high up.

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It had taken Arthur a bit to understand the specific rules of the game although the actual concept was simple enough. Besides, the racket was much bigger than a sword and the reaction time needed to hit the ball was no different than that needed to block an incoming attack.

Still, Arthur struggled at the game. Several things were going against him. The first was that he was used to being good at everything. It had been a long time since he had to learn a skill like this rather than perfect it. It was leaving him rather frustrated.

The second that he was still partially distracted by yesterday and the entire situation of asking for Lucy's hand in marriage. He had been absolutely out of his mind. He liked Lucy as a young girl, but then so did everyone. He was rather smitten with her older self but unfortunately that was not the her that was in the City. He just hoped that the Pevensie's would understand.

He was also self conscious about his clothing. He had worn his normal shirt and breeches but it was obvious not that sort of clothing wasn't traditional tennis clothing.

Which brought him to the final distraction. Blair herself. He had yet to adjust to the fact that women in other times and places regularly wore clothes that would be considered obscene in his time. It was especially bad when they were doing such a physical activity.

With a grunt of effort he sprinted after the ball to return Blair's serve, hitting it solidly with his racket and sending it over the net.

[ooc: Not sure what Blair would be wearing but I figured it probably wouldn't be pants or a dress.]

"Not bad, but could be better~"

Blair, of course, had color-coordinated her outfit. White polo shirt, red headband and a short red skirt, plus a small belt to glamorize things a little. It did occur to her that Arthur would be used to wearing a different kind of outfit, but she did not think it would apply to her too. She did remember to wear Tennis pants underneath her skirt --but perhaps they made no difference.

She was not that much into sports, but she was definitely not into losing regardless of who she was playing with. Losing, or even pretending to, was perhaps the one mean she would not use to achieve her ends. Almost effortlessly, she ran to meet the ball and send it back to Arthur. Resolutely, as if it was a sword blow to an enemy.

The words reminded Arthur of his father, the criticism couched in praise. It was the sort of thing that Arthur thrived on though. He strove for nothing less than perfection of himself and his knights and hoped that others would expect the same of him. Blair seemed the type of woman that expected that and he admired that in her.

Arthur ran into position to return the ball. His difficulty with the mechanics of the game came in knowing exactly what angle to hold his racket at when he hit the ball. It was much easier to know how to cut a man to get through his armor than it was to return the little green ball.

So for now he had to rely on pure power (and he would improve at this game), smashing the ball over the net as close to the opposite line that Blair was on. All while not being distracted by the vast amount of leg that the woman was showing.

Now Blair could be more surprised that he was bothered by her legs than that he was King Arthur of the legends. Well, maybe not really, but it came close. Having grown up alongside the equally legendary Serena, it was hard to claim any attention to herself. Seriously, comparing her legs to Serena's would be comparing a cricket to a swan, not that Blair would ever admit it.

She had thought winning the game would be easy, considering he was the beginner, but Arthur was not letting her win it seems. She made an effort to run to the other side of the court, but stopped midway to catch her breath, letting the ball bounce away.

"Can we have a break? We've been playing for an hour!" She hollered breathlessly to him. Calling a truce was better than dying from lack of oxygen anyway.

Arthur didn't really want to take a break, as he felt that he was finally getting the hand of things but he agreed that taking a short break wouldn't be a bad idea. Besides, this place had drinkable water just sitting around in bottles that you could have. The City was truly an amazing place.

"I think that would be just fine," he said, smiling at her and running a hand through his damp hair. He was a bit surprised at how... physical Blair was. She didn't initially strike him as the kind to go in for that sort of thing but she was surprisingly aggressive in physical challenges. It was a very... attractive trait, to put it mildly.

"And I'm glad that you don't joust," he added as he walked towards the side of the court. "I think I'd be afraid to face you in the lists."

Blair was glad that he agreed, although he hardly looked tired at all. Perhaps it was true that modern people should stop depending on the car so much, or the elevator, as well as many other things, like bagels, ew.

"Thanks," she said, walking to the side of the field for her towel and bottled water. Taking a huge gulp of water, she dabbed the sweat off her face and neck. She would hate to look all gross in front of him.

She raised an eyebrow at the comment, taking it as a sort of challenge. "I did some fencing awhile back," she said with a mischievous smile. "I could win, you know, if I could have the benefit of being on a horse." She took another big gulp of water.

Arthur grabbed his own bottle and took a long drink of water. This sort of activity was definitely better suited to the types of outfits the other men here wore. When you weren't working with weapons long sleeves and breeches didn't seem quite as necessary.

The smile Blair gave him sent a shiver up Arthur's spine that he wasn't quite sure was bad or good. It was definitely interesting though.

"What exactly is it that you think you could win?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Oh? So he was making this a challenge, and a challenge it shall be. "Jousting, of course." Blair said with a particular tone that added '--and don't you dare doubt it'. It was, however, rather obvious that even holding up the weapons would be difficult for her.

She let go of the ponytail that held her hair, combing stray strands and fixing it up again in expert time. It was what she did best, this business of looking meticulous at all times.

Blair noted his long sleeves and breeches. "We should get you polo shirts and jeans," then looking at him top-to-bottom, "and suits, definitely --do actually you wear mail shirts on a daily basis?"

"I'm sure you'd be exceptionally good at it," he told her. While he doubted that she could defeat him, Blair did not seem like the type to do anything in a mediocre fashion. Another reason he liked her.

When she let down her hair he thought it was impressive how it looked like she had hardly exerted herself. Not that he minded.

"Polo, like the game with your horse?" he asked before giving a bit of a chuckle at her question. "No, not always, it depends on what I'm doing or what my duties are at the time."

"But that you'll be even more exceptionally good at it?" She teased him. While Blair would loath to be number two in most things, it did not mean she knew when to back down. Jousting, for one, is not something Grace Kelly would excel in anyway. In which case, she would not be too eager to wrestle that out of a gentleman's hands.

Blair put her hands on her hips and stretched to the left and to the right. Quickly so Arthur would not notice, she put a hand on her stomach. Gross. A frown crossed her face but it passed too soon.

"Polo shirt, like what I'm wearing, but for guys," she replied with a smile. "Do you have an outfit for when you're to appear in the royal court?"

"I am the undefeated King's Champion and have been training all of my life at it," Arthur said, giving her a matter-of-fact look. He knew his martial skills were a point of pride with him but he felt it was one that was earned.

Arthur wasn't really looking at Blair's stomach. Mostly he was concentrating on not looking at her legs. And succeeding. For the most part.

"Ah, you mean dress in more modern clothing?" he asked. "None of it seems very practical. But yes, I do have formal clothing to wear on special occasions, usually when I have to wear my crown as well."

"Impressive," she said with a genuine smile. Arthur was turning out to be better and better by the minute; Blair knew she had an eye for good men. He was so much better for her than those immature high school boys she knew. There are lots of fish in the sea, they say, but you gotta know which fish to take and which to throw back into the water. This one was a keeper.

She laughed at his comment on modern clothing. "Says one who wears metal armors!" At the mention of crown, Blair was reminded that this was no mere Prince --if mere could ever describe Prince in the first place-- but that he was the Arthur. Blair did not think the true meaning of that would ever occur to her for real.

"Back home, you wouldn't really be talking to commoners, would you?" She was referring to herself, but she did not like saying it outloud.

"Yes I am," Arthur replied with a bit of a cheeky grin. Arrogant perhaps but that was perhaps the least of Arthur's character flaws and besides, who didn't like being appreciated?

"Metal armor is very useful when someone is trying to run a sword through you," Arthur argued. "Or if someone tries to take a bite out of your neck." Reflexively he brushed a hand up to the wound that was where his shoulder met his neck. The next time that vampire tried to eat him he was going to sever her head.

"Of course I would be," Arthur said, giving her a bit of a puzzled look. "Merlin isn't noble and I talk to him all the time. Neither is Guinevere but she's Morgana's closest friend. How can I know what my people want or need if I don't talk to them?"

Character flaws? What character flaws? Charmed by his appearance and his title, not to mention reputation, Blair would take very long indeed before she started to notice anything aside from those. She laughed.

Catching sight of the wound on his neck, she made a wince and caught his hand so he would not touch it. "Ouch! How did you get that?" Quickly realizing that she was practically grabbing the hands of Prince Arthur, she quickly let go, clearing her throat and turning away in slight embarrassment.

Blair took her racket and made several practice swings, to keep her hands from fiddling the way they do when she gets nervous. But the names he mentioned, especially Guinevere, made her feel even more awkward. He has already met the Guinevere, a common girl like Blair Waldorf stood no chance. Still she tried hard not to let her guards down, smiling ever so sweetly as she asked, "Is Morgana a princess, your betrothed? --Guinevere is a pretty name, I'm sure she's just as beautiful, hm?"

It is called 'checking the competition'; potentially dangerous, but even more dangerous if not done.

[ooc; sorry for slowness! My internet is spastic, but it should be fixed soon >:]

Arthur was perfectly willing to not let go of her hand, but she snatched it away before he could really hold on to it. Perhaps another time.

"A vampire tried to eat me," he explained, trying to crane his neck to look at the wound. "On that day where we were forced to say those ridiculous what did everyone call them pick up lines. I think she thought one was an invitation for a meal."

He took another drink as he thought over what she said. Honestly it wasn't something he had given much thought to. A king wasn't exactly free to choose who he married, although his one experience with another princess had gone horribly wrong. Besides, most of the court assumed that he and Morgana would marry.

"Morgana is a noble but she's not a princess, no. And Guinevere?" Arthur scrunched up his face a bit as he thought. "I'd say she's beautiful, yes. Merlin especially thinks so."

If Blair had known that, she would have let him hold her hand as long as he wanted. But yes, maybe another time? She put down her racket on the floor and sat herself down too. Her thighs were so sore. She could not believe how Arthur seemed to break no sweat at all; she could not be that nonathletic, could she? At his reply about the wound, she sputtered a laughter. "I may remember seeing that."

When he fell quiet after her pointed questions about the two women in his life, Blair thought to herself that maybe checking the competition was not a good idea after all. This was the part where the Serena in her mind looked at her with that 'I told you so' face. Hopefully he was not so insulted as to banish all of her chances. She felt glad when he finally answered.

"Merlin and Guinevere? Now that's a thought," Blair commented. Pulling her knees towards herself, she pondered to herself whether or not she should ask another pointed question... But whatever, she would ask whatever she felt like asking, and if he didn't like it --well, then he didn't have to answer it. Blair did hope that she would like the answer though.

Turning to him with a sly smile, hiding away her insecurities, Blair asked, "do you think I am?"

Merlin and Gwen were an interesting though, but he had already seen how is friend had tried to admit that he used magic so that Gwen wouldn't be convicted of it. Of course, that could have just been Merlin being his idiot self and trying to save someone. It was hard to tell when it came to Merlin.

When Blair asked the question if he thought she was beautiful he didn't have to hesitate at all, although he did look somewhat confused. Of course she had to know what she was beautiful, didn't she?

"Of course I do," he said, almost making it sound like the fact that she had to ask was ridiculous. "I don't see how you could have any doubts on it. You're a very beautiful woman."

Perhaps Blair did know that she was beautiful, some of the time, but most of the time she was unsure. Whereas if Serena was around then it was all the time that she felt severely overshadowed. While she missed her certain best friend, she was glad to be able to breathe easily for once. It was so tiring to always lose things when she knew that she deserved them had there not been Miss Sunshine.

Blair blushed furiously, turning away with a barely suppressed smile. In the back of her mind, she wished she could stay here in a world without a Serena van der Woodsen. The shyness was gone from her face by the time she turned back to him, although her cheeks were still tinged pink. Siding closer to him, she stood on her tiptoes, hesitated a little, then pressed a kiss on his cheek.

"I'd return the compliment with another one, but it would say too little of what I actually meant."

Aww. But beware Mister Prince, many things said may not be meant, but as for the things unsaid, well, at least it means no lie has been told.

Arthur noticed the slight color in Blair's cheeks and smiled a bit at that. That bit of shyness was rather endearing. Arthur was finding himself continually surprised by this woman. While in a way it removed a lot of pressure to know that when Arthur married it would have to be for duty and the choice would be largely out of his hands it was also nice to think that here in the City things like that didn't matter. What did matter was that Blair was beautiful, smart, clever, and (apparently) a bit shy at times.

The kiss on his cheek caused him to smile even more, it was certainly becoming a much better day than yesterday.

"I think the kiss was more than enough compensation," Arthur replied. "In fact, I'm sure I owe you a few more compliments to even things out."

"I'd rather you save the compliments," Blair replied in turn. "And let me spend more time with you instead."

She thought to herself that she was forgetting who she was talking to, and being awfully bold about it. But he had treated her as equals so far, and that struck her as more than a little strange. Even she would think twice before letting Humphrey touch her at all, and surely the gap between a rich commoner and a commoner is less than that of a commoner and a Prince. Was he really that humble or did he mistake her for something she was not?

But nevermind. Secrets will come out in time, while she will enjoy the moment while it lasts. "If it pleases the Royal Highness, of course." Her smile had a tinge of mischief in it, but her eyes hid no dark schemes.

Arthur tended to only think about class distinctions when doing so was convenient for him. Generally he was a fan of competency above all else, especially after the situation with Lancelot. And Blair was one of the most competent women he had ever met. She had the sort of sophistication and grace that had him never doubting she was the sort of women he should be spending time with.

Besides, he enjoyed being with her and who was there to tell him who he could and could not spend time with?

"It very much pleases his Royal Highness to spend time with you," he told her, smiling a bit more at that. "In fact, it would please his Royal Highness to have lunch with you after we've cleaned up."

Oh dear, now here comes the dilemma. Blair would very much love a pleasant lunch with the Crown Prince of Camelot, but making him wait for her to clean up might make him change his mind altogether. Surely he knew that looking this good requires effort? Blair was ignorant as to how medieval women dressed themselves up, although she had seen a documentary about corsets which made her respect those poor women. She glanced at her watch, it was thirty minutes after ten.

Looking back at him, she flashed him an amused smile. "Then the Royal Highness' subject is obliged to invite him over to her apartment." Fortunately for Arthur, she had no hidden schemes involving him and it was to be a spontaneous day for the sake of fun only. At least for the meantime, that is. "I want you to pick out what I should wear to lunch."

Blair was reminded of their actual first meeting with him in stilettos and her clad in mail. She laughed to herself, "But no chain mails please."

That caught Arthur off guard a bit. He didn't think he had ever been asked to pick out what someone else was going to wear. Occasionally he was told what to wear but he never picked anything out. He wasn't even sure if he was entirely qualified to pick an outfit out for Blair. Well, hopefully if he picked some sort of hideous combination she would give him some gentle correction. That and he was sure that Blair would look good in anything.

"Alright," he said, matching her smile with one of his own. "Just so long as we're picking out an outfit for you from your wardrobe and not for me I don't see any problem with that."

The idea was simply so Blair knew what Arthur liked to see her wear. It was a subtle yet proven method. She knew, for example, that Nate could not resist girls in skirts or that the nape of the neck was Chuck's Kryptonite. Yet lucky for Arthur, she did not really plan on using the knowledge against him. Suprisingly enough, she merely wanted to please him, with no ulterior motives attached. He was a lucky one, surely.

Blair laughed. "Well, I won't hold you to that, in case you decide you could better pull off any of my dresses --or stilettos."

Arthur was from a much more conservative society and just seeing a woman's calves was more skin than he was likely to witness back home. And Arthur was lucky, he possessed very little guile in the ways of courtship and his previous experience with women who could be conniving showed that he could be very easily manipulated.

When she mentioned him wearing her close he scrunched up his face in disgust, "I have no intention of wearing your clothes ever again. I met you because of that and I'm fairly certain that's the only good thing that could ever come out of that situation."

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Log; ongoing

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