Packing up [open] [attn: Cywyllog, Sagramore]

[illgotten]

With less than a week to departure, Mordred makes the short trek up to the Mansion to say his goodbyes -- the theory being that, once he's done that, circumstances won't have the unmitigated gall to delay him yet again.

He's chiefly seeking his wife and his friend, but anyone else with an interest is welcome to waylay him.

Comments

[le_desirous]

Sagramore is actually in his room, although he doesn't spend much time there now that reprieve has been granted; sitting on the windowseat, drinking coffee, and reading Molly's latest offerings. As far as he's concerned, he's just waiting for either Courfeyrac or Molly--or both at once! :D--to come and visit.

[illgotten]

Little knock, then.

[le_desirous]

"I'm here," easily, making the assumption. "You're trying to torture me, waiting so long."

[illgotten]

So he lets himself in. "Sorry," a little abashed.

[le_desirous]

He looks up immediately, almost dropping the book. "Sir."

[illgotten]

"God, what are you doing up?"

[le_desirous]

"It's a matter of course, I have permission. I didn't expect you."

[illgotten]

"I would have come before, things just--"

[le_desirous]

"I didn't expect it. You have yours, I have mine, you weren't bound to come."

[illgotten]

"Idiot," Mordred says, mildly enough.

[le_desirous]

"So, you're here."

[illgotten]

"I came to--" He hesitates, and comes over to sit down by Sagramore instead.

[le_desirous]

He moves aside to make more room, and drops the book neatly on the floor. Since Mordred's last seen him, he's improved drastically, looks infinitely better, though he has a tendency to look exhausted half the time because of the seizures--he still looks better. And look! he can move around. As a result of which the bed is probably a mess again; but he palms off the awkwardness with a winning half-smile at Mordred.

[illgotten]

"Idiot," he says again, and reaches over to run his fingers through Sagramore's hair.

[le_desirous]

"You're disturbing my coif. What will Courfeyrac think when he sees me?" cheerfully.

[illgotten]

Mordred rolls his eyes. "He'll think you look dashing and rakish. They always bloody do."