Tripping (closed)

[jamesoftaversal]

Who: Sir James, Allan, Emmaline
What: Sometimes a man need a little wine to get to sleep
Where: The Trip to Jerusalem Inn
When: 29th September, very late. Or very early 30th September. After a party like this one, it’s hard to tell.

Comments

[allan_of_dale]

There was a growling feeling low in Allan's belly. It wasn't a million miles from hunger, of a sort, except when you were hungry you generally didn't feel like battering your brain in with ten pints of ale. That and the fact that if Allan had been presented with a plate of food right now he'd probably just have thrown up onto it.

It wasn't like he'd never had to cope with the sentiment before; he'd had to do his best to ignore it when poor Tom had over-reached himself as usual and been captured in the name of the outlaw gang. There'd been a hard choice to make that day, too. He'd given up on his brother - his own brother! - all because he'd wanted to do right by the gang and what good had it done him? The same thing had been done to him, barely a year later. And he'd been part of the team, too, not some Johnny-come-lately who just wanted in - a fully paid-up member, as it were

[jamesoftaversal]

“What?” Sir James had been looking in the opposite direction when the man spoke and so was caught unawares. “Ah! You!” he said when he recognized the man. He slowly wagged a finger at him, up and down, struggling to remember. “You…you’re….” Sir James gave up and chuckled a little bit at himself. “I’m sorry, sir, but our paths have crossed so many times lately that I felt sure I knew your name, but now I realize we’ve never actually been introduced! Of course! Here-sit! Sit!” he said, pushing the stool toward the nominal stranger.

“I owe you a drink, friend. Or more than a drink, really. I haven’t thanked you for your help earlier. You really pulled my nuts out of the fire with that Welshman, that’s for sure. Heaven only knows what state I’d be in now if you hadn’t given me an out.” He looked up at the man in the dark doublet with a smile, but saw his guest’s expression was less than happy, though he couldn’t pin it down more than that, and heard a certain moodiness in his tone. Oh, God, please don’t let him be a sullen drunk! Sir

[allan_of_dale]

He was welcomed fairly warmly, so that was a good sign. Sitting down into the seat that had been kicked out for him, a sudden realisation hit him. Earlier. The bloke had said earlier. Shit, had it only been this morning that they'd met? So much had happened in such a short space of time, it almost felt like months had passed since then. Allan was pretty sure he'd known the man's name this morning, but if he had, it was escaping him right now.

"No, it's me that works for Gisborne," he replied. "The french one's Lucatz, he's going home tomorrow. He was only here to...help out with the ball so he'll be back off to his master in the morning. My name's Allan. Allan a Dale. And this place has a lot of barmaids, but the ones working the late shift, well...their table service isn't normally what gets 'em the job, if you know what I'm saying. Late in the evening, blokes tend to get a bit lonely more than thirsty. You might be better off going to the bar yourself."

[jamesoftaversal]

“Eh, I’ll give it a few more minutes. I’d rather wait and tip a girl for bringing our drinks to us than brave carrying them through this crowd myself. These girls are probably better at navigating the obstacle course than me, anyway,” Sir James said.

“Oh, but please tell me this place doesn’t turn into a full-blown brothel after dark!” he added as he tried, without luck, to catch the eye of a buxom lass who was busy entertaining another table with her amble cleavage. “I mean, to each his own and all that, but I was rather hoping to get some sleep tonight, and that’s not likely if the party’s just getting started.” He turned back to Allan, “But don’t let me stop you, if that’s what you’re here for! I can go bugger off easy enough!”

He almost teased, “Though I’m surprised you didn’t get your own offer at the ball in that get up,” but decided he didn’t know the man well enough for that kind of familiarity. That said, the short-short doublet…the two-tight leggings…If I didn’t know better, I’d say Allan a Dale was advertising his wares

[allan_of_dale]

Allan gave a grin and raised his cup in salute. "I just might take you up on that," he replied. Whether or not cooked up wine was as good as James seemed to reckon, if he was being invited over to sample some it'd be churlish to turn it down. Oranges sounded...pointless and stupid. He was glad there wouldn't be any. Sweet or bitter? And sour? Forget that. "I've ate a crayfish," he offered helpfully. "Bit bland, sort of fishy; you ever eat a scorpion? Reckon they taste the same? How does it kill you? Like an adder bite or something? People can die of them, I heard. Poison or something." He sipped his wine and reflected on scorpions. Probably James hadn't eaten one if they could kill you. Wouldn't be worth the effort of catching

[allan_of_dale]

He drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Where to start? "We..ell...;" the beginning, he supposed. "I never knew my mum or dad. Long as I can remember back I got brung up by a tanner's guild in Battersea. They did a bit of charity here and there and they'd take in orphans and foundlings and stuff, on the deal that we worked as soon as we could carry a hide. But it was a bit shit there, to be honest, so me and my brother Tom...I dunno if we're really related but some people said we looked a bit alike...we ran away when we was pretty young. And we didn't have a proper trade or nothing, cos we weren't old enough yet to get taught the important bits of tanning...so we were on the wrong side of the law a lot, just trying to get by. Nothing bad, you know, just maybe poaching a bit of dinner from time to time if we couldn't find work or food. Tom and I parted ways after a while, and I ended up in Nottingham about a year ago...maybe more. These bloody pair of guards who lost their wages to me in the pub - fair and square mind you, an

[allan_of_dale]

See, this is right before Robin goes renegade, right? So we all get led out to the noose, shaking in our boots, and Robin goes bloody nutjob, shoots a load of guards and saves our lives - cos, y'see, those ones I said about were from Locksley, and that was Robin's village and stuff, and there was a whole other load of politics that I'm not sure about. But basically, I've just been saved from death and outlawed all in one stroke. Robin had saved my life, so joining up with him seemed like the right thing to do. He was all "steal from the rich and give it to the poor", as I'm sure you're painfully aware of, and a few other outlaws got in on it too form some other gang, and we went round nicking from people to give to peasants. But then one day I got caught by Guy, and obviously I thought I was pretty much done for. But he gave me a choice: die, or start tipping him the wink once every now and again, so the sheriff didn't give him such a hard time. Not like, shopping all the secrets and selling my friends out or anything; I only saw him

[jamesoftaversal]

It had taken many years for the lesson to sink in, but Sir James had finally come to realize that on those occasions when he he didn’t know what to say, he should really keep his mouth shut. Which is why he sat silent while Allan spoke his piece, and then for some time afterwards

[jamesoftaversal]

Still, there’s a fine line between exercising one’s hard-earned judgment and being judgmental towards one’s fellow man, and Sir James was humbled at the thought of crossing it. So he held his gaze steady, and did his best to keep his voice flat and speak without emotion or even sarcasm

[allan_of_dale]

He'd broken off, sort of assuming that James would take up the baton and start talking about Djaq in return. He couldn't bear to dwell any more on the miserable story of how he came to be here; he felt like he'd told it a hundred times already tonight; felt like he'd bloody lived it through again. Somehow, away from the castle, he'd been able to shut away the events of the past few hours. Denial came easily to him, generally, and he rarely had much use for feelings. Allan was expert at living in the moment. But the silence span on, and on, and he looked up at his companion questioningly, wondering about the sudden quiet. James' love of talking had kept back the tide of bleak sickness burning at the back of his throat