jump_first_net_second | (no subject)

(no subject)

If there's one thing that Dick's learned over the years, it's that he'd better expect the unexpected. Between different universes, aliens, metas, and the few homo magus that he happens to keep up with, he's well aware that it's a weird weird weird weird world. However, the one thing he's actually, legitimately not expecting is to push through some of the old coats and the various other detritus of his closet back at the manor to find-

Okay, that is NOT a street lamp and this is NOT happening.

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He looks up at the... okay, that is a knight on a white stead. Or... is it white? It feels like it should be white. Especially with the knight being like prince level dashing. He would know. He can also pull off prince level dashing. It in fact takes one to know one. Mostly the whole thing is goddamn surreal which is why he tilts his head back from whence he came before looking up at new guy again.

"So if I say that I walked into my closet and came out here, you're not going to try and stab me for being a crazy person, right?"

The horse is not white. If he would like to see Peter on a white steed, and in any sort of armor, it would be on a battlefield and his ride would be a unicorn.

He smiles, wryly. "No, that's actually the most sane explanation you could have given, and one of the least likely to get you stabbed, given that you'v stumbled onto the palace's grounds."

...there's a part of Dick's brain that's pretty proud of himself for picking the most sane explanation. That's not usually how he rolls but if it means less stabbing, he's all for it. Or attempted stabbing. He'd rather not see how well his boots do against this guy's weapons.

"Well, that's pretty much how it went down."

He makes his way over to Sir Apparently-Rides-A-Lot and holds up a hand.

"Dick."

And then, just to make sure-

"Grayson. My name is Dick Grayson."

He tilts his head and then gets off his horse and lands lightly at his feet. "Peter. High King Peter - and I'll leave it at that. How are you on horseback?"

Priorities. He has them.

For all that he's keeping it loose and easy, Dick's putting together the pieces from what he's seen of the 'high king' so far. The cut off titles indicates that he's not a huge fan of formality, despite being 'high' king. As does the fact that he gave his name without the title first. The lack of drawn weapons at any point says that not only was his story believable but it doesn't indicate anything sinister, at least not to anyone here. And the wry smile is a good sign; kings with a sense of humor are much easier to deal with than those without.

He considers lying for half a second to see what the result might be; it's best to test kings out in the wild where there aren't guards to stab you if you get it wrong. But his general gut feeling about the guy is good. So the answer pops out, almost immediately.

"I know how to ride."

Between being Robin and growing up on the Wayne Estate, it would have been stranger if he hadn't known.

"And how to hold on to keep from falling off the back of the horse."

He's seemingly at ease with Dick. It isn't entirely misleading. He's well within his comfort zone here, the man is obviously unarmed and the story he's given isn't one anyone who was lying would come up with. It's also one Peter knows is at least potentially true.

Mostly, he's very comfortable and confident in himself.

"Don't be ridiculous. You're a guest. The least I can do is give you the front end of the horse." He holds the animals reigns to steady it, but inclines his head for Dick to get on.

Also true, the quip about not giving the guest the horses ass but as comfortable and confident as he is, he wants no stranger that close to his back.

Dick feels about the same way as Peter does, but he acts like he lets armed and potentially murderous people from a completely foreign magical land sit behind him ALL THE TIME.

...to be fair, he does it more often than most people do.

He does his best not to look as acrobatically inclined as he is but given that he practically took his first steps on a tightrope, his success is a little mixed. Once he's up, though, he leans back to offer a hand. Only polite, considering.

"So... palace grounds, you said?"

He takes the hand and pulls himself up and onto the horses back behind Dick, but it's pretty clear that he doesn't really need the hand. Not because he's any sort of gymnast, but because he is reasonably strong, athletic and knows his horse.

"I did. It's called Cair Paravel, and we're little more than twenty minutes ride out. You haven't asked how to get home, yet. Why?"

He turns his head just far enough to look over at Peter.

"Because if I've learned one thing over the years," he points out, "it's that it's either going to be as simple as walking back into those trees over there or ridiculously, incredibly, life-threateningly hard."

He turns back to look forward and he gets his hand on the reigns a little more steadily.

"Also, not to be self important or anything, but I've been in this closet before. If it opened up this time, there's some sort of reason for it. And that means I need to get to the bottom of it."

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