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[oom: Cold]

Gorlim is curled up at one end of the couch in front of the fire, face almost hidden inside a furry cloak wrapped around him.

Come wake him up. Or sleep on him. He probably makes a good pillow.

[ooc: Slowtiming at random intervals until later today, but look! Mun's back from the world of theatrical oblivion!]

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Random, fiddling with something in his pocket, opts for the second option, settling onto the couch and relaxing back against him.

"Hey, love."

Gorlim peeks out from the fur and smiles sleepily.

"H'lo, Random." He scoots around a bit. "Cold? 'Snice under here." Relatively speaking.

"It'd be too crowded."

Poke.

"I'm fine. You look sleepy, love."

"Mmm. Kay." He yawns and tugs the cloak around himself more. "Of course I'm sleepy. I was just asleep."

"Yep."

He tugs at the cloak.

"Want me to leave?"

THAT gets him an odd look.

"The hell would I want you to leave? You're warm. And I like you." Smile. "You keep bad dreams away, did I ever tell you that? I don't have bad dreams when you're close by."

"You never did."

He rests his head on Gorlim's knee.

"How are you? Doing well?"

He thinks about it, and nods. "As well as can be expected, I suppose, and I certainly could ask for no better. And you? You seem well."

"Having a nice holiday season."

He sighs.

"Ramon's arguing with Namo again. We need to slap some sense into the both of them."

Gorlim groans and rubs his forehead. "Bloody hell. I tried talking to Namo about it. He went off in a huff. I think I did something of a botched job of it, and I've not seen Ramon in days. Nor mostly anyone else, either. I'd hoped they would have given it up by now."

"He's well. Tired, but well. He..."

He sighs.

"...and I, I'll admit, aren't sure how a relationship this volatile will end."

"What, Lee and Namo and I?" He smiles at Random's worry. "You are sweet, but do not trouble yourself overmuch about it. Love works itself out, as it has with you and Ramon. I'll be all right, come what may, and I've fixed both of them before." He draws himself up, sitting straight-backed and putting on airs like a struttung rooster, although the smirk is a good sign it's all an act, and a silly one to reassure Random.

"We'll see. But I'm here if you fall, love."

That's that.

He settles back again, too tired, too much fretting to smile.

"I know. And I wish I knew a better way to thank you than to give you silly poems and things."

He reaches a hand out of his cloak and rubs the back of Random's head with his knuckles. "Please don't worry now. Smile a bit, for me? Everyone's too morose lately. This isn't the season for it. This should be a time for dancing." At least, it was where he comes from.

"I've had a very nice month. Son coming over for Christmas."

That should be fun.

"If he and Ramon don't kill eachother before then."

Gorlim chuckles and shakes his head. "Martin and Ramon are like two stags fighting over the same hillside when the valley below is large enough for them both."

"Probably, yes."

He shrugs.

"But we'll cope. Maybe. Probably."

"Very likely," he insists. "My dear Random. You treat every ripple as if it would upset the whole of the ocean. It will not. And I think Martin and Ramon do not mean it, their fighting. They are only locking antlers tussling to find out where they stand with one another."

"You don't know Amberites, Gorlim."

He pulls back, rather affronted.

"My son... nevermind. I don't feel like explaining it. It'll depress me."

"Well, that is true. Forgive me, Random, I do not mean to presume that I know anything. I only meant to help. It seems I find all the wrong ways to go about it lately."

"Being patronizing isn't generally helpful, Gorlim."

He shrugs.

"For those of us who are drowning."

"I didn't mean to be," he says quietly. "How can I help you, Random? Just tell me, and I shall do it. What can I do that will help you smile again?"

"Gorlim, love."

He grins at him, and shakes his head.

"I'm fine. Really, I am. I worry for you, but I'm fine. Just... promise to come for dinner? You can teach me how to cook?"

"Of course I will!" He still looks utterly sheepish, though. "Ramon told me you might ask. Yes, of course. When?"

"Tomorrow?"

The sooner the better.

"Want me to get ingredients? I do want you to help me cook. And I have no idea how."