[they call it an open post, they call it a miracle!]

[blind_judgment]

He is beginning to feel somewhat more at home in this crowded little cottage in the woods, despite his own long absence, despite the whole situation with Cywyllog, and even, remarkably, despite Clarissant in general - enough at home to come into the kitchen and make a pot of tea himself, instead of waiting like a guest for Gawain or someone else to

Comments

[illgotten]

Presently there's a quiet step on the threshold, and then dusty hands on his shoulders and a kiss buried in his hair.

[blind_judgment]

"I hope that's who I think it is," mildly, eyes still in his book, "and not, oh, Clarissant." (Terrifying thought.)

[illgotten]

"No," gravely, "this has boy germs."

[blind_judgment]

"Gawain, then," and he puts down his book and teacup.

[illgotten]

Laughter. "And him a married man. Shocking."

[blind_judgment]

"Well, so are you," Niko points out with a masterful lack of tact. "--That is--"

[illgotten]

His hands slacken, slip. "--There is that, yes."

[blind_judgment]

"--Sorry," quickly, grabbing Mordred's hand and squeezing it lightly before jumping to his feet. "D'you want some tea? I made a whole pot--"

[illgotten]

"In a minute." He catches Niko's arm and tugs him back -- dusty all over, it proves, and smelling of wood shavings. "Hi."

[blind_judgment]

He's tugged back, smiling (if it's a sheepish smile, in light of his last tactless moment), and says, "Good morning. Tea?"

[illgotten]

"Not morning anymore." Mordred kisses him lightly, once and again. "Sure."

[blind_judgment]

He glances out the window for a moment- "True. Still--" and pours a cup of tea for Mordred, refilling his own as well before sitting back down at the table. "Where is everyone? It's quieter than it's ever been around here."

[illgotten]

"Oh, out and about." Mordred ignores his, in favor of leaning on the back of Niko's chair. "I think Gawain went to see Percy, Lynet's up to the Mansion, I don't know where the youngers have got to."

[blind_judgment]

He twists a bit in his chair, so that he can look up with a smile at Mordred. "And Clarissant's out on Clarissant business, I take it."

[illgotten]

"Presumably," running his fingers through Justitia's hair. "I don't ask. In case I don't want to know the answer."

[blind_judgment]

"Eye of newt and tongue of frog?" slipping his hand over Mordred's free one.