(no subject)

[likeroaringlions]

William has been outside, throwing rocks into the lake; now, suddenly and ravenously hungry, he trundles back into the common room. And hey, there's Jamie! And hey, there's Jamie talking to some tall dark serious-looking fellow. Isn't that always the way of it? Look for your friend and you find a king conferring with some advisor or whatever.

If it were Stirling Castle, maybe he'd hang back, but it's not, and that's not some advisor or whatever, so he gallumphs himself up to the bar and flings himself onto a stool next to Jamie's, loudly calling for something to eat, he's a hungry Douglas!, something with a little meat to it!...and wouldn't you know it, by the time he's settled in, the other fellow is making polite I'll-leave-you-to-talk-to-your-friend noises at Jamie.

Right, then.

Comments

[fieryface]

Right, then.

"You snuck up so quiet," Jamie says dryly. "I hardly knew you were there."

[likeroaringlions]

"What, am I interrupting the King's Council or something? Didn't know I had to ask your your leave to approach."

[fieryface]

"Right, just making fun," he says, a touch taken aback. "Where were you?"

[likeroaringlions]

"Aye--aye, sorry," he says, a touch taken aback by his answer himself. "Just making fun too. I was out by the lake, just fucking around, throwing rocks, nothing much. Who was that?"

[fieryface]

"He's from Egypt." He realizes as he says it that he doesn't actually know much more than that. "Somebody important, probably. Carried himself that way."

[likeroaringlions]

"Egypt? What, like with the plagues?" He glances over at where the stranger had been sitting, as if there would be locusts or frogs or blood. But it's just an empty stool; the man himself had headed off to talk to someone else.

[fieryface]

"Yeah, I guess. At first he was all--" Or maybe that part really wasn't real? "He was nice enough, anyway. Didny think much of how the story in the bible got told."

[likeroaringlions]

"Oh, aye? Knew better himself firsthand and all that?"

Here's his food, a plate of some sort of spicy-smelling sliced sausages and cheeses, with chunks of...who knows what sort of vegetable-looking things, and little bits of bread with oil and herbs. Okayyy, bar. Anyway, easy to pick up with your fingers. He nudges it towards Jamie to share.

[fieryface]

Jamie grabs a piece of oil-soaked bread.

"Aye, so he said." Hey, that bread's not bad. "What did you ask for?"

[likeroaringlions]

"...Right. So he said. Fine, great." Christ. "--I asked for something with a bit of meat to it. Not sure this counts, honestly. But it's not bad." He snags a slice of sausage--peppery!--and nods a sort of approval. "Should try to get your kitchen to put some up like this."

[fieryface]

"I'd have to know what it's called, wouldn't I," he replies. "Seems like something your dad would've got out of Italy or someplace, eh?"

[likeroaringlions]

"He might at that. Aye, I think he had a case of sausages like this at Christmas a few years back. Some sort of cured pork. But I'm not fucking touching those...whatever-they-ares." Some sort of bright orangey-red fruit, cut in half, fleshy with little wet seeds, giving out a pungent smell.

[fieryface]

Jamie snorts. "Afraid of a fruit, are you?"

Well that means that he can't be: he seizes hold of one and stuffs it in his mouth.

[likeroaringlions]

"Jesus, who gets the kingdom when you die?"

So he doesn't really think the bar would poison them, but--but he's going to watch Jamie's progress with the mystery fruit very skeptically.

[fieryface]

"One of me big sisters must have a wee lad by now," Jamie mumbles cheerfully around his mouthful of fruit. "--it's like a great huge berry, but it isny sweet."

[likeroaringlions]

"Off in France, aren't they?" His mind starts to wander down familiar and unwanted paths: how hard it would be for a little French baby and his mother to claim the Scottish throne, how quickly one of the regents or councilmen would find a way to take that seat--

"Well, it doesn't seem to have killed you. Matches your complexion a bit." Fine, all right. William grabs one himself and pops it into his mouth, sending seed shooting down his chin.

[fieryface]

"Take care, then. Eat too many and maybe you'll come out looking like me."

Of his sisters, he adds, "They're all over the bloody place. Don't remember any of them but Annabella."

[likeroaringlions]

"That's sisters, isn't it. Nothing to talk about with them anyway, and then they're off and married and away." He wipes his chin and goes back to the meat and cheese. "Annabella. Did I meet her? She's--married to--?"

Or maybe she isn't married to anyone. He thinks his father had said something once about William marrying her, but it was just talk, just notions a few years ago. "So why aren't you married yet?"

[fieryface]

"Duke of-- don't remember. Somebody French."

He prods moodily at one of the remaining fruits. "Well, set to be married, aren't I."

[likeroaringlions]

"Aye?" Is it settled? Had he known it was settled? He's supposed to know these things. "Aye--well--that's a ways off, innit. --We'll get so fucking drunk on your wedding, man. We'll be absolutely fucking legless."

[fieryface]

"A ways off," he agrees. "Naught but talks and that, so far, and that could go on for-- ages."

[likeroaringlions]

"Ages. Well--but--it'll be good, anyway." No elaboration comes to mind, so he opts for kicking James lightly in the shin. "I forget who my dad's angling for, for me this time."

[fieryface]

Jamie snorts. "The poor girl that gets saddled with you! Glad all my sisters are married."

[likeroaringlions]

"Hey now, I'm quite a prize. A Douglas! You can't turn that down." He helps himself to the last slice of sausage. "And I don't need to be your brother-in-law. We're already friends."

[fieryface]

"Bet your dad would make us brothers-in-law if he could." But that's-- he shouldn't say that. He grabs the last piece of bread quickly, to cover. "You want more?"