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The Gig: Thursday [1-13-11]

The Gig was open for business today and Helen was here for anything anyone might need.

"You can be blunt and ill-tempered at times," she said with her usual tactless honesty. "But you are also kind and thoughtful and quite a wonderful person."

"You wound me," he said, with a pang. "Tis true," he admitted. He shrugged it off. "I do not shirk my faults."

"I like that about you," she said. "You know who and what you are and don't pretend to be otherwise. And you look at me, faults and all, and accept them."

"I judge by a different criteria than most, I fear." He looked her in the eye, unabashed. "Faults and strengths are what we're made of."

Helen nodded. "Very true."

"I have no trouble with those who think themselves perfect. I just stay out of their way," he said with a hint of a grin. "But enough of that. We have more to discuss than faults," he said, worrying open the bottle.

She nodded with a smile and set out the two cups he'd bought. "Indeed we do."

He poured hers full, then his. "To faults," he said, raising his cup.

"To faults," she said, raising her own.

He moved his forward to clink with hers. "Ah, feast for kings."

She laughed. "I'm not sure about that, but it is quite a wonderful picnic."

"True. I've never spent much time around kings. Princes, princesses, dukes, even a queen." He shrugged, as if it were commonplace.

"More time than I've spent with any," Helen admitted.

"They're people. Mostly good, at least the ones I've met," he said, swirling his drink. "I've heard stories, though. The King before King Lyam, bad stories. Just rumors, mind you."

Rumers based very much in fact are rumors still.

[ooc: I cannot access my mailbox for some reason on the computer, yet it works on the phone (but I can't ping). Not happy about this.]

She nodded. "I can only imagine."

[ooc: Ouch. I'd be unhappy too.]

He sat silently for a moment, letting the rumors wash around inside his head, before forcing them aside. "Want some more?" he asked, tilting his head at his own cup.

She looked at him curiously wondering what he was pondering so seriously, then shook her head. "No, one is plenty for now."

She broke off a bit of the bread and nibbled on it.

He would not tell unless asked. "Try the cheese, goes wonderful with the bread."

"Is... something wrong?" she asked carefully. "You seem bothered by something."

"No, just thoughts on home, of history. Come, eat."

She nodded. "Very well then." And went back to nibbling on the bread and cheese. It was all very good.

"I cannot control the weather, but a good picnic can happen anywhere," he said with a smile, his mood lightened.

She smiled at him. "Indeed."

"Good food, good company. Good picnic." He smiled at her.

She smiled back at him. "Indeed."

[ooc: And fade?]

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squire-hand.livejournal.com - 2011-01-26 02:25 (UTC) - Expand

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