#can i get a cheer for finally finishing something woooooo (finished this one weeks ago and only now got reminded of it)

[calbeloved]

a little danthur thing set in the universe of 1670 (the tv show, taking place in the polish–lithuanian commonwealth during the late 17th century.)

is this basically just a rewrite of aniela and maciej's first meeting you might ask.... yeah. i just stuck my favourite guys in there. the wonders of being a writer.

spoilers: 1st episode of 1670 and names from opd

Adamczycha is not the worst place to live, Arthur supposes. He worked in worse conditions, and even if he'd like to be on the other side of the village… It always could be worse. Arthur doesn't have wishes. He can't. So, it's fine.

Surprisingly, the mornings are not the worst part of the day. It's more cold than usual and getting out into the field is always followed by soreness and the freezing wind and working, but Lord Kian is not awake in the mornings. That's what makes it bearable.

The people are starting to get used to his presence, too; while they don't smile, they make eye contact and at least acknowledge him. At breakfast, Paweł (the man giving out the breakfast whom he only met 5 days ago) gave him the usual ration. Not less. It's good here.

Being the blacksmith's helper is nice, too; it gets hot and the hardship of banging on metal all the time is not easy, but he is only an assistant. It is no surprise that he gets told to relay information to people all around the village and has to do little jobs here and there.

He's good at it. It's going well for him, so far. No reason to complain, and even if there were, he wouldn't.

It’s neither morning nor the time of absence of Lord Kian when he walks to the geese feeding area– someone has to feed the horses and he should probably not be in there by himself. Someone else can do that job.

Lord Kian laughs in the distance as he walks; a now familiar “Chop, chop, chop!” following close behind, rushing him. Arthur ignores it as best as he can and focuses on the people in front of him instead. Half consciously, though, he speeds up.

“Hey. Hey, you,” he says, himself not knowing to who yet. The geese aren't being too troublesome today, so he allows himself to walk a bit closer.

One of the men turns around to face him, grain still in hand. There's a shadow of something in his expression, but it quickly gets overtaken by a neutral face that nods in acknowledgement.

“The horses need to be fed. Can you do it?”

“...Just in a minute, when I'm done here,” the man nods again and throws the grain onto the dirt– the geese similarly throw themselves at it.

Arthur frowns; “You should probably do it now. Poor things are hungry, you know?”

The man pauses and turns to stare at him. He blinks, a mix of the confusion and amusement showing again, this time more stronger.

…There is something about that face. Light blonde strands of hair fall onto his face and the cheeks are not so rosy as they normally are in everyone else who work all day in the cold, and he's pale. Beautiful, surely, familiar also, but…

“Dante!” Lord Kian shouts from where he's sitting; way closer than Arthur thought. There's still an apple in his hand and food being chewed in his mouth when he speaks. “How many times have I told you? Nobles don't work!”

…Dante. He knows that name. The youngest of the sons. Only– Lord Kian is staring at him while he speaks.

There's a quiet scoff behind him. Arthur… Arthur turns around once more to face the man he just told to feed the horses. He turns to face Dante. The noble.

…He has been here for less than a week. Nobody important checks in at the blacksmith and so far he hasn't caused any trouble enough to guarantee a punishment– now, his stomach twists. It is possibly the biggest insult he could offer, to not only confuse a noble with a peasant, but to so informally order them to work.

Dante smiles in response. He stares him deep into the eyes and oh Arthur's about to fall to his knees. “Well. I better go feed those horses. I'm sure they are hungry.”

When Arthur eventually mutters a choked “right” back, it is already too late. The noble has left and left him stunned and with a warm feeling in his chest. Arthur, as any smart person would, turns around and slowly starts walking back to the forge. Holy fucking shit.