#also. ngl. ywdmp has me considering making this soldavekat. but for now have these two | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thegempage · 1 year

Text

a scene that may or may not exist like this in a fic i have yet to write

"So..."

You pretend not to hear him. The Prince is sitting on the stonework just above you; if his voice didn't give him away, the purple boots that land on the ground next to you would. You were given explicit instructions not to speak with him, and considering you like having your head attached to your shoulders and not mounted on a wall where you have a sneaking suspicion they once had one of your relatives, teeth forced open in a snarl you've never really liked pulling, you intend to stick to that instruction. One of the maids told you about him in advance anyway; he's literally all bark and no bite, according to the servants about to rotate out, the ones who have been here the longest, he'll talk your ear off and understands if you don't respond.

("It's unfortunate," one of the other knights had mused, fiddling with ropes and knots while she showed you around. "You can tell he just wants to talk to someone, but he must've caught wind of the fact that we're not supposed to respond because he doesn't even talk like you're there. It's best to just let him get it out and he'll leave you alone.")

"This summer heat has been a real bitch. You'd think they'd give a guy some cooler clothes to work with when the sun literally lights shit on fire if the windows aren't open in the afternoons but nah, too easy, make him work for pants that aren't a thousand degrees."

You can't say you were expecting him to be so... foul mouthed. What appears to be two pant legs land next to the boot, suspiciously unconnected to a waistband.

"The name's Dave, by the way. I know you're probably a stickler for not calling me that because everyone Mom and Dad sends is a stickler for being all formal or whatever --" A cape flutters to the ground and you think he finally settles "-- but if you don't have a stick up your ass consider this official permission to just call me Dave."

(So much for acting like you're not there.)

"You seem different than the other knights they send, but in a cool way. Like, usually they send these big muscly types who talk about how great of a vacation this is. And they're nice and all, but you're actually taking this seriously, so clearly you've got something going on or Mom and Dad wouldn't have strangled you with it."

He says it so, so casually. It makes your blood run cold. You tense, your grip tightening on your sword pommel; you'd never strike at the Prince (you're not dumb enough to do that), but it's comforting to know you're armed.

"Don't sweat it, I'm not going to ask. Even if you could respond that's kind of a dick move. We're just locked up here together, you know? Those guys all have families and pubs they get to go back to with big bonuses and stories about how the crows follow the crown prince wherever he goes after a month, but I've been here my whole life. I don't know how long they've got you here, but considering you're standing right in front of the hallway to me and Rose's rooms I've gotta assume it's a while."

Rose must be the princess. You continue to stare straight ahead and do a pretty alright job of not jumping out of your skin when two hands descend and pull your helmet off. You didn't even -- You know you put that on correctly this morning, how the fuck did he --

"Rose has been showing me some tricks," he seems to answer your internal question. "Good job not slapping me, though, some of the knights they put here have a nasty habit of almost breaking my nose when I sneak up on them. Which, fair enough --" the Prince jumps down from the stonework and you see him for the first time, unfortunately, "-- they don't expect me to know about all of the little buckles it takes to put these suits on, even though a kid could probably figure it out."

The Prince is taller than you, as your gaze laser focused ahead allows you to see. The emblem of Derse is stitched across his tunic and his outfit seems to be missing a few pieces, especially his pants from the knees down. He fiddles with your helmet as he stands in front of you, and you don't even need to expand your senses to know he's staring at you. The one thing you can't tell is with what intent. You don't think he's malicious, perhaps curious? Your grandmother would tease that your scales show when you're nervous, but that was only with magic sight, could he have such an ability? His hands are darker than yours, especially against the clean silver of your helmet, and his nails are manicured and painted a muted red. When he taps them on the metal, you can just barely hear the sound of them making contact. He breathes in like he wants to say something, but lets it out, and the two of you stand in silence.

You dare a peek. No head movement, nothing that disrespectful, but your eyes trail up to see his face. His eyes are hidden behind round, dark pieces of glass spun together with gold wire, but you can't shake the idea that he's watching you; his hair is carefully cut and styled, the late afternoon giving him a sort of halo. His expression is carefully and meticulously put together to be neutral; you can't tell what he's hiding, but you know he's hiding something.

"Just once," he says, holding out your helmet. "Talk to me once. Just tell me your name."

You hesitate. His hand is shaking and he doesn't want you to know. So you don't; you take your helmet, eyes straight ahead with it held at your side, and you say only, "Karkat Vantas."

He smiles. "Nice to meet you, Karkat."

And then he leaves.

#little rock.txt #homestuck #ciaran does the art #writing #i would love to hear what you think btw!#i don't. know how to explain this jkfsdlafjk #there's a lot of lore happening. don't worry about it #focus on them meeting for the first time #future davekat implied #also. ngl. ywdmp has me considering making this soldavekat. but for now have these two #fairytale au

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