He's normally early to rise, but today he's dragging. There's nothing to do. The Gallows are closed off to him, something about a quarantine despite the one elf telling him he was a welcome guest, and he's bristly and bored and feeling fairly sorry for himself by the time he gets to the kitchens. Thor peers in, scratching his bare chest as he'd only bothered with pants so far.
"Do you cook? I would like something with which to break my fast." These lands are cold, they're grey, they're backward, and he has absolutely no task to set his hands and mind to.
Fifi looks up and immediately away at the sight of the man's bare chest, not out of any particular modesty, but because it's too damn early for men to be undressed in her vicinity. She continues to scrub the stone counter for another moment or so, but pauses to answer. "I can, though perhaps you would prefer I fetch the cook?" she replies, straightening a bit and brushing her hair out of her eyes, sleepily meeting his.
"Um." The cook is a better idea, but today he does not need a feast. Instead he simply wants to eat and she's present while the cook is not.
"You will do. I do not require anything fancy." He goes over to where he'd left an outer robe last night, looking it over before yanking it on. They don't have company. They don't have expectations. Without duty he's lost.
He sighs heavily as he plops down on a barrel. "What does one do with extra time in the south?"
'You will do.' Well if that isn't the story of her life she doesn't know what is.
"Well," Fifi muses, digging for a frying pan so she can make him an egg or something, "surely there is entertainment in the city, Messere. Performances, taverns, and the like." Brothels. "If one were to find oneself so terribly bored, it might even pass the time to work."
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untiltheyarent) wrote2018-01-28 01:05 am
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"Do you cook? I would like something with which to break my fast." These lands are cold, they're grey, they're backward, and he has absolutely no task to set his hands and mind to.
no subject
"I can, though perhaps you would prefer I fetch the cook?" she replies, straightening a bit and brushing her hair out of her eyes, sleepily meeting his.
no subject
"You will do. I do not require anything fancy." He goes over to where he'd left an outer robe last night, looking it over before yanking it on. They don't have company. They don't have expectations. Without duty he's lost.
He sighs heavily as he plops down on a barrel. "What does one do with extra time in the south?"
no subject
"Well," Fifi muses, digging for a frying pan so she can make him an egg or something, "surely there is entertainment in the city, Messere. Performances, taverns, and the like." Brothels. "If one were to find oneself so terribly bored, it might even pass the time to work."