Sir Guy of Gisborne (
landlesslord) wrote in
milliways_bar2007-10-31 12:53 am
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
(no subject)
There comes a time in a man's life, when you've done enough skulking about feeling sorry for yourself after getting your ass kicked by lady-ninjas in blue spandex shortly after being gassed.
There is also a time in a man's life when he accepts that what's done is done and perhaps it's not a bad thing to try to show your fiancee how you feel about her.
This time could be when Guy leaves his room for some late night mulled wine to help him sleep or even when he sits down at a table, rather warily.
The doctor is in.
...wait. That's not right. He's got a stethoscope, a big orange jacket with "Doctor" on it and an alarming lack of weaponry. Definitely not right.
There will be a time for most of the above later. Now calls for something more potent than wine.
[OOC: Will be around for about half an hour then it's slowtime time. :)]
There is also a time in a man's life when he accepts that what's done is done and perhaps it's not a bad thing to try to show your fiancee how you feel about her.
This time could be when Guy leaves his room for some late night mulled wine to help him sleep or even when he sits down at a table, rather warily.
The doctor is in.
...wait. That's not right. He's got a stethoscope, a big orange jacket with "Doctor" on it and an alarming lack of weaponry. Definitely not right.
There will be a time for most of the above later. Now calls for something more potent than wine.
[OOC: Will be around for about half an hour then it's slowtime time. :)]
no subject
That her first thought.
And her second and third and fourth. Because the fact her heart raced a little, at the quiet comment, was not allowed a thought process.
Not allowed a thought. Barely allowed the suppression of swallowing against a faint flush, as she looked at their hands and at his cup.
"I would greatly like some tea then."
no subject
He hailed a waitrat and beamed at it almost disconcertingly. Disconcertingly for the rat at least.
"Tea for the lovely Lady Marian." He turned to her a moment. "And biscuits?"
He did say anything. And biscuits counted as anything.
no subject
"Yes." There was a short nod, glancing to the rat. "Whatever flavor she thinks would do well tonight."
Marian looked back, having taken the few steps closer without thinking much on them, blue-grey eyes studying his face in an unsure manner.
"Thank you."
no subject
And Guy says nothing more. He merely watches Marian watching him.
It's nice.
no subject
And, though she was loathe to admit it, between the wine and sickness and strangeness, he did not seem as though he was aiming for manipulation.
"Should I sit?" Marian tried to ask it with a small smile, clinging to her semblance of control. "Or will I stay standing here while I have my tea?"
no subject
He should have really offered her a seat earlier. But sitting means going further away and brings the danger of disentangling her hand from his.
"Uh." He looked at the other chair at the table. He looked at Marian. He looked at the chair. At Marian. Chair. Marian.
...
Perhaps, he shouldn't have started on the second bottle. Well. Finished the second bottle. It'd been stronger than he was expecting.
no subject
no subject
It reminds him of home.
no subject
And some faith, as she reached out a leg and hooked the bottom bars of the chair with her booted foot, dragging it to her. In a manner most graceful and entirely unladylike.
Settling into her chair, next to his, she tapped his cup with a finger of her other hand. "And just how much have you had to drink?"
no subject
If it is possible for a broad-shouldered warrior of 6'2" to look a tiny bit sheepish, then that is an approximation of Guy's reaction to Marian's question. Another approximation might be that of a schoolboy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"Not all of it."
*eyedart*
no subject
no subject
"It was green?" He offers helpfully. Healthy things are green. Green liquors cannot be bad?
no subject
"Green?" She asked, with a shake of her head. "That's a new one even for here."
no subject
His attention is drawn by her hands. "I could ask the waitrat to bring you a glass?"
no subject
no subject
Not that he will admit it.
And she does have a beautiful smile.
A smile beautiful enough to distract him from what she had been talking about.
"Yes?"
no subject
no subject
With his free hand, Guy picked up the empty second bottle and pondered it.
"I've never had tea, but this tastes like..." He frowned. "Like falling asleep on a hot summer evening before a thunderstorm."
no subject
Especially since his description stole her attention.
That had sounded......almost poetic.
Her eyes lingered on the bottle, because it was easier than looking at him, though her mind went back to their hands.
"What is it called?"
no subject
"I didn't ask." He admitted finally, his question about Tom forgotten. "Try some."
It is more a statement than a question that he directs at her, his gaze drifting over her face and following hers to the bottle.
"Or," he mused, the edge of his mouth quirking into an amused smile. "Put it in your tea and see what happens."
no subject
It returned somehow much more speedily than her tea had.
"How did you end up trying this? Just request a strange green drink?"
no subject
Who is he to argue though? She will surely share it with him. And it did taste pretty good.
"That peasant boy was here and I asked for something strong to make him easier to tolerate. Him and this jacket."
Guy peered at his jacket again. It might be his imagination, but he was sure it wasn't this bright earlier.
no subject
Bringing it to her lips she took a small sip before adding the tea.
One had to be purist about these things.
At least trying it once for itself.
no subject
It just doesn't seem right with the delicacy inherent in teacups. Especially with the fuzziness that his share of two bottles of the green stuff has already brought.
Guy's eyebrows raise questioningly.
no subject
She looked back up. "It's not bad. It's better than the scotch or whiskey I've seen since finding this place. It's more...delicate."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)