the cat to his dinner
December 1st prompt from 31_days:
let snow and silence mark the site of my unseemly appetite
One of the many perks of being King is being spoilt for choice. Not, of course, that he had ever indulged himself to excess. Just knowing that he would be able to do so if he so wished, and none (or almost none) to stop him. Food, for example. And other appetites. Just a little exercise needed to work it off.
But it is still snowing. There are always other things to occupy himself with, but none of them require trips to the royal stables and the presence of the grooms. Fu Chai surveys, yet again, the table fully-laden with winter delicacies, and frowns.
“Bring Gou Jian here, that he may watch Us eat.”
The food remains untouched until the king of Yue is announced, whereupon the Great King motions that he be sent in, and begins to fill his plate. Gou Jian remains prostrate at the foot of the dining platform, until the King acknowledges his presence with a command to sit where he is. A smaller table is placed in front of him by an attendant muttering about how “even them as cooks this don’t get to enjoy it” before withdrawing with every show of courtesy.
Gou Jian expresses his gratitude for the fine repast so effusively that Fu Chai’s appetite is whetted further; he falls to with such gusto that he is halfway through before he notices that the plates on the table beneath his dais are still full. Fu Chai’s chopsticks hit the table with a clatter, startling the man whose head is bowed over his own.
“The food isn’t poisoned, Gou Jian! I’d find a more satisfying way of killing you if I meant to.”
“Gou Jian humbly thanks Your Majesty. He has just now filled his belly in his hut with the meal that was graciously provided.”
“Well, you can eat some more, it’s a cold day!” A pause. “I command it!”
The captive king slowly inclines his head, takes up his bowl, and begins to eat. In spite of himself, Fu Chai’s gaze is drawn by the way Gou Jian’s slender fingers wield the chopsticks, expertly pincering a morsel before bringing it to his lips, which then part to reveal a delicate - Fu Chai remembers that his food is getting cold, coughs and swallows to clear his dry throat and drags his attention to focus on other delicacies.
They finish their respective meals in silence, turning as one to look at clear grey skies over the snowy ground. A perfect winter day for riding, though Fu Chai can’t figure out if it is the large meal or Gou Jian’s renewed praise of the munificence of the Great King his host that is making him a little queasy. Nothing a little exercise wouldn’t cure, though.
“Return to the stables and saddle Swift Victory. I shall expect you at the front of the paddock by the end of the watch.”
“Gou Jian will await Your Majesty’s arrival. May it please Your Majesty to guard Yourself well against the cold.”
“You had better make sure of the horse and your owns- I mean, your own people! Those structures look like they’ll be blown down any minute, that’s how you Yue people build.”
“Gou Jian thanks his Majesty for His concern, but we are still here.”
Fu Chai watches Gou Jian make a ceremonious leave with inclined head and hands respectfully raised before him until he steps over the threshold and turns toward the stables to disappear into the white winter landscape, and wonders why he feels unsated.
(set in the historical!AU where Gou Jian & co. are ensconced fairly comfortably as grooms/servants in huts near the royal stables.)
let snow and silence mark the site of my unseemly appetite
One of the many perks of being King is being spoilt for choice. Not, of course, that he had ever indulged himself to excess. Just knowing that he would be able to do so if he so wished, and none (or almost none) to stop him. Food, for example. And other appetites. Just a little exercise needed to work it off.
But it is still snowing. There are always other things to occupy himself with, but none of them require trips to the royal stables and the presence of the grooms. Fu Chai surveys, yet again, the table fully-laden with winter delicacies, and frowns.
“Bring Gou Jian here, that he may watch Us eat.”
The food remains untouched until the king of Yue is announced, whereupon the Great King motions that he be sent in, and begins to fill his plate. Gou Jian remains prostrate at the foot of the dining platform, until the King acknowledges his presence with a command to sit where he is. A smaller table is placed in front of him by an attendant muttering about how “even them as cooks this don’t get to enjoy it” before withdrawing with every show of courtesy.
Gou Jian expresses his gratitude for the fine repast so effusively that Fu Chai’s appetite is whetted further; he falls to with such gusto that he is halfway through before he notices that the plates on the table beneath his dais are still full. Fu Chai’s chopsticks hit the table with a clatter, startling the man whose head is bowed over his own.
“The food isn’t poisoned, Gou Jian! I’d find a more satisfying way of killing you if I meant to.”
“Gou Jian humbly thanks Your Majesty. He has just now filled his belly in his hut with the meal that was graciously provided.”
“Well, you can eat some more, it’s a cold day!” A pause. “I command it!”
The captive king slowly inclines his head, takes up his bowl, and begins to eat. In spite of himself, Fu Chai’s gaze is drawn by the way Gou Jian’s slender fingers wield the chopsticks, expertly pincering a morsel before bringing it to his lips, which then part to reveal a delicate - Fu Chai remembers that his food is getting cold, coughs and swallows to clear his dry throat and drags his attention to focus on other delicacies.
They finish their respective meals in silence, turning as one to look at clear grey skies over the snowy ground. A perfect winter day for riding, though Fu Chai can’t figure out if it is the large meal or Gou Jian’s renewed praise of the munificence of the Great King his host that is making him a little queasy. Nothing a little exercise wouldn’t cure, though.
“Return to the stables and saddle Swift Victory. I shall expect you at the front of the paddock by the end of the watch.”
“Gou Jian will await Your Majesty’s arrival. May it please Your Majesty to guard Yourself well against the cold.”
“You had better make sure of the horse and your owns- I mean, your own people! Those structures look like they’ll be blown down any minute, that’s how you Yue people build.”
“Gou Jian thanks his Majesty for His concern, but we are still here.”
Fu Chai watches Gou Jian make a ceremonious leave with inclined head and hands respectfully raised before him until he steps over the threshold and turns toward the stables to disappear into the white winter landscape, and wonders why he feels unsated.
(set in the historical!AU where Gou Jian & co. are ensconced fairly comfortably as grooms/servants in huts near the royal stables.)