[open]

[le_desirous]

To-day not in his room; on the porch again, slouched in a slant-backed chair, head leaned back and eyes closed. His breath is heavy, but that's not really a pertinent fact: he's taken off his sword and has no coffee and is wide awake despite the fact that he is doing a pretty good imitation of passed out.

Really he's just listening.

Comments

[myrddin_wyllt]

That would be the moment that Merlin-Dog (dorky, still) decides to come and sit at his feet - and listen as well.

[le_desirous]

Since Sagramore is emphatically pretending not to be alive, he doesn't move.

[myrddin_wyllt]

Well - dogs aren't particularly focused, so Merlin-dog proceeds to randomly licking stuff. Oh, my, would that be Sagramore's hand?

[le_desirous]

He sits up a little and rolls his eyes, half-laughing, and scruffles the dog behind its ears.

[all_that_grace]

In which case, after some time, he will hear a quiet step on the floorboards of the porch, approaching him; and then Courfeyrac leans down to kiss him.

[le_desirous]

He kisses back, and puts his hands on Courfeyrac's shoulders to draw him down, regardless of the fact that this may overbalance him.

[all_that_grace]

Which it does, and he stumbles more or less into Sagramore's lap, a tangle of long limbs. "Damn!"

[le_desirous]

"Ha." Sagramore tugs him into a more-or-less acceptable position.

[illgotten]

Mordred is not about to inflict his company on Niko or his siblings, in the mood he's in. On the other hand, it's still light out, and the fishermen are unlikely to tolerate him taking out his fury on the lake.

So the next obvious thing is to go into the Mansion, and look for alcohol or someone to pick a fight with. Right? Right.

[le_desirous]

Sagramore hears him coming, as a matter of course, but is still busy pretending to be dead, and thus does not respond. He doesn't check to see who it is.

[illgotten]

But Mordred stops halfway up the steps, and swears at the sight of him.

[le_desirous]

He sits up immediately, straightening. "I've done nothing."

[phedre_25]

Because it's a beautiful day, and she is tired with the walks and berry-picking she's been doing, Phedre decides to read out this day.

She quietly sits, a respectful distance from the sleeping man, and starts to read - she's been developing an interest in the works of Lord Byron, recently, though why him in particular is anybody's guess.

[le_desirous]

Sagramore opens one eye, looks at her, and goes back to pretending to be unconscious.

[phedre_25]

She's reading, but her eyes are restless, so she puts away the book and looks about... and her eyes fall to him again. He doesn't look overall restful, that way. Or maybe it's because he's not well. Oh my.

She stands, and carefully walks over.

"My Lord?" Gently.

[le_desirous]

"Nothing more than sir, I promise you."

[youngandhealthy]

Molly sneaks up behind him... and deposits as bouquet of flowers in his lap. Because if he is sleeping, she doesn't quite want to jump on him... mostly.

[le_desirous]

"What in the Holy Lord's name?" mock-astonished, sitting up.

[youngandhealthy]

"No one's ever given ye flowers 'afore?" Mock grief. "Tis so sad, sir!"

[le_desirous]

"Alas, the tone set for my life."