R&R

[halleyscomet1.livejournal.com]

~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.~

Comments

[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.

[halleyscomet1.livejournal.com]

*He sits beside her and is thrilled that she's dropping some formalities. He can allow himself to be a little less intimidated by her breeding and good looks. He picks up a stick and snaps it to a sharpened point- always feeling a little safer with a weapon on hand, no matter how useless it might be.*

My name's Harold- Hal.

*He grins a little, quite shy but trying to man up.*

I've never known anybody called Beauty before. I've never known anybody who'd suit it as well, either.