Arthur had sealed the deal with the reply “It's a wonder you're still alive.”
After which had come some pretty fantastic sexing… Alfred grinned lazily as he recalled the events of those early morning hours. Oh yeah, Arthur owed him some pretty fantastic sex after all this was over, in addition to the suit…
But back to the point, the difference between this and the “got lost at the Ren Faire” look, Alfred thought as he plucked at the tunic, was that these were made out of genuine materials and were therefore uneven. And uneven meant itchy. Eugh. No wonder kilts had been in. Thank god for boxers.
Aengus and Adain eventually emerged from the mists surrounding the garden walls midday on the fourth morning, looking so serious that Alfred almost burst out laughing, especially as Ceorl greeted them the most carefree manner possible, handing them each an apple pastry and inviting them to stay and eat for a bit. Just the expressions on their faces… priceless. Though what was truly amazing was the Aengus looked… well, a bit more solid actually. Like normal person solid. Alfred had hugged them both (manly hugs, dude, c’mon!), and for once his arms didn’t go straight through. Alfred had looked at Aengus in alarm, but the ghost had quickly waved off his concerns. Adain’s version of a hug was to sink his claws into the fur of the cloak (not enough to hurt Alfred, thankfully), and wrap his wings around Alfred’s head, which was surprisingly… sweet. It was a relief to hear Adain’s voice in his head again. Alfred hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the pair.
During that time, it was, as Ceorl put it “a time for tale telling”. Alfred swore the guy had an uncanny gift for alliteration sometimes.
What Aengus and Adain had been up to in that time, Alfred eventually put together from the rather jumbled composite of interruptions, was a long and fruitless search. First off, they had spent some time trying to find Alfred in the canyon itself, and ended up in a battle with two trolls over whether or not Alfred had been eaten by them or not, and ended up kinda winning, but they knew that Alfred hadn’t been seen by any of the trolls. So then they’d figured they’d needed to make a focus. Oh right, that was something Alfred had gotten explained. A focus was something you could use to track a person, something that expended a lot of magic in ordinary circumstances. Apparently, it was particularly difficult to find Alfred because he didn’t have any magic at all (Connall’s words came to mind here). Blood was the best focus, and a lock of hair was reasonably good, but they didn’t have any of that. What they had to resort to was the discarded banana peel Alfred had left in the cave entrance, since that had a bit of saliva or something. Alfred had wrinkled his nose at this. Wow, this just seemed a whole lot of effort for no reason. The not-so-good focus had led them originally to something that had been enchanted, they supposed, to look like Alfred, and then they had started to come this way. Sir Robin was ultimately a godsend. Somewhere in there, there was something about a couple of enchanted, sentient rocks and more worryingly, some dragonsbane.
When Aengus and Adain heard Alfred’s tale, they were both a little disgruntled and a little amazed. “You mean ta tell me,” Aengus asked skeptically, leaning towards Alfred with his elbows on the kitchen table, “That you went and got carried off by a bloody Roc, and you survived.”
Alfred scrunched up his face. That’s what those birds were called? “Maybe? All I know is that the thing was huge, black, nation-eating, and had babies.”
Adain and Aengus looked at each other. Definitely a Roc. How exactly did you survive?
Ceorl looked up from something he was whittling from his spot at the head of the table. “Do not cut yourself in my kitchen!” Ceorl fixed Alfred with a pleading look.
At the other two’s startled reaction, Alfred quickly replied: “Well, actually, I had wanted to ask you about that. My blood seems to be so full or iron that it’s poisonous to creatures with magic. Some of my blood entered one of the chick’s bodies, and it was in so much pain that I had a chance to escape. It killed a rock snake thing. How are you still alive?”
Crowe 13f/?
After which had come some pretty fantastic sexing… Alfred grinned lazily as he recalled the events of those early morning hours. Oh yeah, Arthur owed him some pretty fantastic sex after all this was over, in addition to the suit…
But back to the point, the difference between this and the “got lost at the Ren Faire” look, Alfred thought as he plucked at the tunic, was that these were made out of genuine materials and were therefore uneven. And uneven meant itchy. Eugh. No wonder kilts had been in. Thank god for boxers.
Aengus and Adain eventually emerged from the mists surrounding the garden walls midday on the fourth morning, looking so serious that Alfred almost burst out laughing, especially as Ceorl greeted them the most carefree manner possible, handing them each an apple pastry and inviting them to stay and eat for a bit. Just the expressions on their faces… priceless. Though what was truly amazing was the Aengus looked… well, a bit more solid actually. Like normal person solid. Alfred had hugged them both (manly hugs, dude, c’mon!), and for once his arms didn’t go straight through. Alfred had looked at Aengus in alarm, but the ghost had quickly waved off his concerns. Adain’s version of a hug was to sink his claws into the fur of the cloak (not enough to hurt Alfred, thankfully), and wrap his wings around Alfred’s head, which was surprisingly… sweet. It was a relief to hear Adain’s voice in his head again. Alfred hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the pair.
During that time, it was, as Ceorl put it “a time for tale telling”. Alfred swore the guy had an uncanny gift for alliteration sometimes.
What Aengus and Adain had been up to in that time, Alfred eventually put together from the rather jumbled composite of interruptions, was a long and fruitless search. First off, they had spent some time trying to find Alfred in the canyon itself, and ended up in a battle with two trolls over whether or not Alfred had been eaten by them or not, and ended up kinda winning, but they knew that Alfred hadn’t been seen by any of the trolls. So then they’d figured they’d needed to make a focus. Oh right, that was something Alfred had gotten explained. A focus was something you could use to track a person, something that expended a lot of magic in ordinary circumstances. Apparently, it was particularly difficult to find Alfred because he didn’t have any magic at all (Connall’s words came to mind here). Blood was the best focus, and a lock of hair was reasonably good, but they didn’t have any of that. What they had to resort to was the discarded banana peel Alfred had left in the cave entrance, since that had a bit of saliva or something. Alfred had wrinkled his nose at this. Wow, this just seemed a whole lot of effort for no reason. The not-so-good focus had led them originally to something that had been enchanted, they supposed, to look like Alfred, and then they had started to come this way. Sir Robin was ultimately a godsend. Somewhere in there, there was something about a couple of enchanted, sentient rocks and more worryingly, some dragonsbane.
When Aengus and Adain heard Alfred’s tale, they were both a little disgruntled and a little amazed. “You mean ta tell me,” Aengus asked skeptically, leaning towards Alfred with his elbows on the kitchen table, “That you went and got carried off by a bloody Roc, and you survived.”
Alfred scrunched up his face. That’s what those birds were called? “Maybe? All I know is that the thing was huge, black, nation-eating, and had babies.”
Adain and Aengus looked at each other. Definitely a Roc. How exactly did you survive?
Ceorl looked up from something he was whittling from his spot at the head of the table. “Do not cut yourself in my kitchen!” Ceorl fixed Alfred with a pleading look.
At the other two’s startled reaction, Alfred quickly replied: “Well, actually, I had wanted to ask you about that. My blood seems to be so full or iron that it’s poisonous to creatures with magic. Some of my blood entered one of the chick’s bodies, and it was in so much pain that I had a chance to escape. It killed a rock snake thing. How are you still alive?”