Work Text:
It’s all word of mouth at first. If you ask Andy, he’ll tell you. Not a lot. Sometimes all he’ll say is “robots”, sometimes he’ll answer any question you have, and sometimes - if you catch him on a bad day - he’ll simply sigh heavily and tell you to leave him be. Even if you’re lucky enough to get him taking questions, his answers will be short. One sentence, maybe a few. Enough to understand, but not quite enough to know .
He doesn’t seem to particularly like talking about it, but he isn’t necessarily opposed, either. He’s told his wife, and his kids, too, but they don’t think it’s their story to tell. He has two friends outside of town who know, but if you ask he’ll tell you not to bother them.
Nobody can get a full answer out of him for a while. Some try frequently, some give up altogether, and all talk of Andy knowing grows quiet.
Soon enough, though, a pair of weary travellers makes their way through London. They cross paths with Andy and by some miracle he tells them everything. He spins a masterful tale, like he’s been wanting to tell it for ages. As a thank-you the travellers leave him with a substantial trade. They must have spread word around because after a while, another small group shows up asking around for Andy Knightley.
He becomes a bit of a wandering man’s legend. Somewhere along the way the “Andy” must have been lost, because the travellers simply start asking where they can find the Knight. They come from all around, and Andy never turns them away. He’ll shelter them for a bit, maybe direct them to the Blank Oliver if they end up staying longer. He always sends them off with crops and he always tells them his story.
It’s a little bit different every time. Sometimes he tells it over a meal, or he’ll have you follow him while he’s working, or perhaps you’ll have to wait until he can gather up as many people as possible, he’ll light a fire and make an evening of telling it. Sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s bleak, sometimes he’ll cry a little but he’ll always deny it. If you bump into another who’s heard it later on you might have heard details the other hasn’t. If you’re especially lucky his friends from outside of town - the Prince and his love, the remaining Chamberlain - will be around and they’ll tell the story with him.
No matter what someone will always ask what happened to the King. He doesn’t know, he says. That’s when he sends you off.
****
“There’s a man down in London called the Knight. They say he was there when it happened.”
“So was I.”
“People go from all over to hear him tell the story.”
“Fuck-a-doodle-doo.”
“They say he talks of a King.”
A soft, fond laugh comes muffled from under the rogue traveller’s bandana. He pulls it down, revealing a slight smirk. Behind him, the eyes of his companions light up a stunning, bright blue. He tips his hat up and looks you in the eye.
“What do they call him, you said?”