The sports training field was a grassy stretch of ground just behind the main walls of the school, and, as it was the training field, it was typical to see some species of college jock donning the red of Camelot in the vicinity. Despite the fact that it was rather overcast, was only the first day back on campus for a new term, and that most students were catching up with each other, finding their dorm rooms, or generally busy, the morning was no exception. There were several young men there along with some onlookers and a boy who very obviously did not belong anywhere near a sports field. One of the men stood out from the rest. Perhaps it was his fair hair, striking blue eyes, cocky grins, and a strut to rival a rooster's, that he was the captain of the football and the rugby teams, or perhaps it was that he was Arthur Pendragon, the only son of Uther Pendragon Duke of Winchester, and thus, a possible heir to the throne of England, and everyone grew up seeing him on the telly or on tabloid covers.

Or perhaps, just maybe, what held him apart was the same air that let children know instinctively who to most avoid in a group of bullies on a pllaygound.
Arthur certainly was the ringleader of the group of jocks that were tormenting poor Morris, a freshman who, had it not been for work study, never would have set foot near the fields. "Where's the goal?" Arthur called out jeeringly as the two behind him laughed mirthfully.

"There?" The boy asked tentatively, gesturing to the goal.

"There?" Arthur echoed, nodding towards the goal, "It's into the sun."

This statement actually caused Morris to look up to the sky, "But" He began in confused protest, "It's not that bright."

Arthur's response was immediate and brought more raucous laughter from the men who were still recovering from their first round. "A bit like you then?"

Now, it was undeniably true, Morris was not the sharpest sword attending Camelot at least when it came to athletics, he was clumsy and his reactions were lacking any sort of finesse, the exact opposite of Arthur. It was also undeniably true that Arthur Pendragon was little more than a boy, and boys, no matter what the era or status have the perchance to be cruel to those below them especially for the sake of their peers. Not only was Arthur Pendragon little more than a boy, he was his father's son. While not excusing his next action, this dual life certainly helps to explain his actions following Morris' mumbled "I'll just put it on the other end, okay?" As soon as Morris began towards the goal and turned his back on them, one of the others called out to Arthur, "Teach him a lesson. Go on wart." The tall, darker man to his left egged. It called interest from others who had been previously content to ignore them.

It was all the encouragement Arthur needed to remove his foot from where it rested on the black and white ball. With a smirk, and a "This'll teach him" He sent the ball hurtling towards the center of the net, just to the side of Morris' head. When it hit home Morris looked over the edge with a startled "Hey! Wait a minute!" To which Arthur only responded "Don't stop! Go on, move."

He continued to goad the boy into moving and eventually running as it became a free for all with Morris as the net others getting involved as well. The boy fell with a cry and muted thud when one struck him in the back of his knees at which point Arthur reluctantly put an end to his fun, and when he did so did the others. It didn't stop the teasing though as the boy scrambled backwards sprawling in an awkward array of limbs he hadn't quite grown into..

I mentioned before that Arthur would have a chance to ascend the throne, and while this fact did not absolve him of his actions in any sense, it was certainly not easy to be in that position despite how he made it look. There were days that Arthur would have gladly traded places with the sniveling Morris if only so people did not have expectations of him. The only expectation of Morris was that he would fumble things and make a complete and utter buffoon of himself. Arthur was expected to be a prince, to stand behind his father in every way, to keep appearances, to do countless things. No, Morris had no expectations from others, and Arthur envied him for that liberty. In that exact moment though, no one expected Arthur to be anything either. On the field, he could just be another jock. With a final sneer the blonde turned away.

"What… what about…" The sentence trailed off before a hesitant "Sir? Was tacked on as the boy got clumsily to his feet.

Honestly, it was the sir that made a muscle in Arthur's jaw twitch spasmodically and faltered his step, drawing him to a stiff stop. The way he said it as a question instead of a statement was honestly worse than him not saying it at all. When he turned back to face the other, his face was a calm mask aside from his eyes. "I'm sorry," He didn't sound sorry though, "What was that?"

"The… the net?" His stutter was becoming more pronounced, garnering a raised eyebrow and a noncommittal hmming noise from Arthur.

He tucked his ball back under his arm as he regarded Morris with a tilt of his head, "Yeah… what about that net? See, personally I thought you were doing a great job." He appeared to think about it, a finger tapping idly at his lips, he hmmed some more before making an expression that would have been wonderfully accompanied with a flashing light-bulb, "I've got it!" He exclaimed, "You could be our goalie!"

Morris looked more startled than before, but it slowly morphed into hope. "Really?"

Arthur smiled, one of his photoshoot ready smiles that was reserved for particularly annoying reporters and meetings with nobels, "Absolutely, you're a ball magnet, no one could get a ball past you. It's a natural gift."

"Really? " came the squeaky reply.

"Yeah!" Arthur replied with a mocking amount of enthusiasm, he turned to those behind him, "Right guys? Morris can be our new goalie!" He laughed, a rich sound that was echoed as his teammates caught on. He turned back to the grinning Morris, his face suddenly serious and void of its previous smile. "No, not really." The other's face fell immediately as Arthur smiled again and slapped him on the shoulder, "Thanks for the laugh though, didn't know you could be so funny." Erupted again as they walked away, leaving a dejected Morris to kick at a clump of grass. It wasn't like he would want to spend hours a day sweaty and chasing after a stupid ball anyways.

Morris decided that it was a safer idea to return to the equipment room to clean something.