Request

[lesser_son]

Melou's education as far as reading and writing stopped when he was on the young side, and you've got to take medieval spellings into account anyway. But the notice he tacks up is mostly readable, if you take a few moments to study it really good and hard.

It says, plainly printed:

I WOD SEKE A PRYSTE TO MARRIE A LADY TO-GETHYR WYTHE A MANN.

Comments

[illgotten]

His mother is not exactly what he gets, however.

"Evening," Mordred says, amiably enough, pausing beside him.

[lesser_son]

Melou looks surprised, but smiles. "Good day, sir."

[illgotten]

Mordred reaches up to ruffle his hair. "What are you about?"

[lesser_son]

Eeee. He even doesn't mistake that raised hand for a precursor to a slap any more. "Waiting word, please you."

[cywyllog]

His mother does happen by and stops almost abruptly. It might be out of alarm.

"Cariad, what is this?"

[lesser_son]

"I mean to marry, mother," softly. "She would meet with thee--she hath asked it."

[cywyllog]

"I thought--"

She takes a deep breath. "You meant it."

[lesser_son]

"I love her."

[thegoodrandall]

Here's a priest (well, minister) then, stopping by and deciphering the sign with some amusement. "I take it you're the one who wrote this, then?," he says to Melou with a small smile.

[lesser_son]

"Ay, ay," with an eager little nod.

[thegoodrandall]

"I would be able to help with that," Alex says with a wider grin. "I am a minister, after all."

[lesser_son]

"I thank you, sir!"

[sissy_queen]

Queen Guinevere (!) will show up, and peer at the sign with curiosity. She will read it, slowly and painfully, and then look... and find a very Modred-looking Melou.

"Are you Sir Melou, perchance?"

[lesser_son]

He nods, shyly, and then gazes at her more closely. "Are you--are you the Queen, lady?"

[sissy_queen]

Oh, Melou. That's a nice change, no-one ever picks that detail up !

She inclines her head, smiling shyly. She is just a year older than he, after all.

"Aye I am," she says, timidly. "Pray receive my congratulations, Sir."

[lesser_son]

He recognises that--and recognises that, with the war over, he has no quarrel with her--and, being a good boy, he bows to her. "Thank you, your majesty."

[morgansorceress]

[Typist: I can't recall if Melou and Morgan have met outside of anti-OTPs. I don't think so.]

Of all things to make someone feel old, their grand-nephew getting married.

[lesser_son]

totally haven't!

"Lady?" shyly.

[morgansorceress]

You're Melou, are you?

[lesser_son]

"Ay--ay, Melou."