Apr. 4th, 2010 09:00 pm
[identity profile] halleyscomet1.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] tdr_backup
~Nothing could have given him more relief than the gracious return of his manners, grooming and intelligence. If a man doesn't have his principles, what does he have? Over the days of his transition he has been slowly picking his way through the swamp, with the slowly sharpening idea of finding a more permanent structure than a simple hole in the ground. As his wits return to him he remembers to assist Beauty delicately over the more disgusting parts of the swamp, over the hidden logs, pitfalls and... dead things. He's old-fashioned; the idea that she might not need his help never occurs to him.

He wants nothing more than to apologise for his behaviour, but he's too embarrassed even to bring it up. His clothes are damaged due to the transformation of their occupant over the last month, but they aren't in dire need of replacement, and the second he had the faculties to remember to bathe he made up for lost time and was briefly the cleanest man in the entire Level. Some time tramping through slime and marshland changed that quickly.~

If we can get to that vantage point up there we can rest and figure out where to go next. We can eat frogs for lunch. It'll be just like French cuisine.

~He attempts to flash a humourus yet apologetic grin at her, but he's running out smiling motivation.~

Date: 2010-04-05 07:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] beautysleep4.livejournal.com
*His humour falls flat, she is after all French by birth, not to mention that though her natural attributes have been returning as the week wears on the shame and humiliation of this particular torment are harder for her to shake than any previous. She spends hours scrubbbing her gown lifting out as much of the mud and slime as possible, or painstakingly combs through her curls training and retraining each to lie perfectly till the weight of the mists pull them down dripping again. She tries to begin conversation countless times but then remembers her inexcusable behaviour and instead drops her eyes and walks on. When he makes the comment about lunch she knows she can no longer avoid conversation without giving slight.*

I am not so very hungry but I thank you for the offer. *There is a pause as she gathers her courage to look at him for the first time in a week. Even so, her head is still titled down so that she is looking at him through her lashes.* I could use a respite and anywhere out of this wet would be preferable.

Date: 2010-04-07 07:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] beautysleep4.livejournal.com
*It is fortunate that she is not privy to this last thought of his. It would totally disarm her and she is feeling enough of that already. She has a vague notion that had the ordeal gone on much longer her strange behaviour might have taken her places she could not return from. She does not deny to herself a comfort in returning to the roles of princess and champion but even so, she is having a difficult time not seeing things about him which she had previously tken little notice of. She is thrown by the warmth in his brown eyse and a kindle of amber when he is excited. Her prince's hands are much softer yet they lack the quiet strength that is present in this man's even when he is merely helping her to sit as now.*

Thank you my Good Knight, what do they call you in your inner circle?*She gives him a small warm smile obviously meant to smooth over their mutual discomfort.* As we are our own circle the formalities just seem tiresome. It is lonely to have no confidant, so I ask you to call me Beauty.


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