another day . . . [open]
Jan 5, 2011 0:45:03 GMT -5
Post by Joscelin William Teimlia on Jan 5, 2011 0:45:03 GMT -5
"Bugger, my head feels as if it's split in half!" Joscelin exclaimed as he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. Mayhap he shouldn't have spent the day and night drinking away with a certain woman but Joscelin couldn't have helped it even if he did exercise self-control. She had driven him in a way he hadn't known since his youth and their conversation had both been tension ridden and filled with genuine excitement altogether. He certainly didn't regret a bit of it...well, no, he did...somewhat.
He simply didn't like the feeling of everything hurting.
Fortun, however, thought it was the right consequence for his often wayward charge. That's not to say that Joscelin was always a handful because he really wasn't...but yesterday was certainly a change of pace. He had assured Joscelin's foster-mother, and his father once upon a time ago, that he would constantly keep Joscelin's safety in mind. When he had disappeared from Fortun's sight the day before...well, he had feared the worst; after all, a fresh faced lordling wandering about from stall to stall unashamedly was a target for easy picking. Fortunately, Joscelin hadn't gotten into trouble and instead had run into a Goddess in the flesh or so he had drunkenly slurred to Fortun when he had taken his charge to a rented room.
"Would you close the shutters already?!" Joscelin demanded and whinced at the sound of his voice. He groaned and rolled over onto his stomach only to bury his face into the pillow. It was his only respite from the sunlight that was spilling within the room. It seemed to pierce through his eyelids though, which certainly did not help. He whined and lifted his head to look bleary eyed in Fortun's direction who was moving toward the window but making no effort to close the shutters as Joscelin wished.
"I hope you don't mind me being an ass, my lord, but I promised your foster-mother to keep you safe and out of trouble. I think suffering a bit would set in the lesson you have learned this morning." Fortun said simply and kept looking out the window. Joscelin groaned into the pillow at that and was quite literally at a loss for words; after all, what could he say?
He had done wrong...He had been foolish.
"However, I'm not entirely cruel and I will grant you one kindness, my lord," Fortun said. "I will have a bath fetched for you and some food, although it would be a wonder if you could keep it in your stomach," he admitted and smiled at the bleary eyed Joscelin who looked rather unamused.
"Well, that works, Fortun," he said and decided not to bother arguing with him.
Fortun left without a word to do as he said he would or so Joscelin surmised. He rubbed at his temples there and then, soothing the ache from his eyes and mind before willing a semblance of strength into himself. He managed to roll back onto his back and position himself to easily thrust his legs out from the bed and touch the floor with his bare feet. Fortunately, the room wasn't lurching to one side nor was anything looking like they were slipping and sliding. He managed to get to his feet and moved toward the window, shielding his eyes with a hand as he peered out and upon Ingril.
Ingril couldn't have been so wildly different from his homeland but it was beautiful in its own way. That and the fact that somewhere out there were those who knew who he was looking for...his lady mother...wherever she was. He took a deep and shaky breath as he strengthened his resolve. He would manage today...He would find something.
The door came open with a thump and he whinced.
He'll manage somehow, he told himself.
His bath went swiftly as Joscelin scrubbed the stink of wine and sweat from his body until he was raw, pink and thrumming. Then he ate and filled his belly which thankfully held everything in. Fortun patiently waited down below in the main room of the tavern for Joscelin who was taking his time with recovering and preparing for the day ahead of him. The last thing to do was to dress.
He chose somewhat simple to say the very least. He donned fawnskin trousers that fit like a glove, his riding boots and a shirt made of a fine white cambric. It made him look rustic in the end as he rolled his sleeves and left his collar undone to bare his chest. The only sign being of his station was gentleman's sword and amber signet ring as he left his room for the main floor.
The day was for him to take and the gods only knew who he would meet..
He simply didn't like the feeling of everything hurting.
Fortun, however, thought it was the right consequence for his often wayward charge. That's not to say that Joscelin was always a handful because he really wasn't...but yesterday was certainly a change of pace. He had assured Joscelin's foster-mother, and his father once upon a time ago, that he would constantly keep Joscelin's safety in mind. When he had disappeared from Fortun's sight the day before...well, he had feared the worst; after all, a fresh faced lordling wandering about from stall to stall unashamedly was a target for easy picking. Fortunately, Joscelin hadn't gotten into trouble and instead had run into a Goddess in the flesh or so he had drunkenly slurred to Fortun when he had taken his charge to a rented room.
"Would you close the shutters already?!" Joscelin demanded and whinced at the sound of his voice. He groaned and rolled over onto his stomach only to bury his face into the pillow. It was his only respite from the sunlight that was spilling within the room. It seemed to pierce through his eyelids though, which certainly did not help. He whined and lifted his head to look bleary eyed in Fortun's direction who was moving toward the window but making no effort to close the shutters as Joscelin wished.
"I hope you don't mind me being an ass, my lord, but I promised your foster-mother to keep you safe and out of trouble. I think suffering a bit would set in the lesson you have learned this morning." Fortun said simply and kept looking out the window. Joscelin groaned into the pillow at that and was quite literally at a loss for words; after all, what could he say?
He had done wrong...He had been foolish.
"However, I'm not entirely cruel and I will grant you one kindness, my lord," Fortun said. "I will have a bath fetched for you and some food, although it would be a wonder if you could keep it in your stomach," he admitted and smiled at the bleary eyed Joscelin who looked rather unamused.
"Well, that works, Fortun," he said and decided not to bother arguing with him.
Fortun left without a word to do as he said he would or so Joscelin surmised. He rubbed at his temples there and then, soothing the ache from his eyes and mind before willing a semblance of strength into himself. He managed to roll back onto his back and position himself to easily thrust his legs out from the bed and touch the floor with his bare feet. Fortunately, the room wasn't lurching to one side nor was anything looking like they were slipping and sliding. He managed to get to his feet and moved toward the window, shielding his eyes with a hand as he peered out and upon Ingril.
Ingril couldn't have been so wildly different from his homeland but it was beautiful in its own way. That and the fact that somewhere out there were those who knew who he was looking for...his lady mother...wherever she was. He took a deep and shaky breath as he strengthened his resolve. He would manage today...He would find something.
The door came open with a thump and he whinced.
He'll manage somehow, he told himself.
His bath went swiftly as Joscelin scrubbed the stink of wine and sweat from his body until he was raw, pink and thrumming. Then he ate and filled his belly which thankfully held everything in. Fortun patiently waited down below in the main room of the tavern for Joscelin who was taking his time with recovering and preparing for the day ahead of him. The last thing to do was to dress.
He chose somewhat simple to say the very least. He donned fawnskin trousers that fit like a glove, his riding boots and a shirt made of a fine white cambric. It made him look rustic in the end as he rolled his sleeves and left his collar undone to bare his chest. The only sign being of his station was gentleman's sword and amber signet ring as he left his room for the main floor.
The day was for him to take and the gods only knew who he would meet..
[/center]