(Untitled)

May 26, 2006 10:19

*The harp music from beside the fire is an old hymn today, but Guinevere seems abstracted. Her fingers move over the strings automatically, though without stumbling.*

brother cadfael, guinevere

Leave a comment

Comments 27

brothercadfael May 26 2006, 18:36:05 UTC
He'd been a little surprised when the door to his workshop opened onto the bar again, but he certainly hadn't hesitated to step inside and close the door behind him. So far, no time had passed in the abbey during his previous sojourns in the bar, and as the day had been wet and raw for late May the promise of a warm fire is a nearly irresistible temptation.

He slows a little as he approaches the fire, not wishing to disturb the lady playing the harp. The tune is familiar to his ears, though, and a small smile drifts across his face as he listens to her play -- and tries not to hum along too loudly.

Reply

mother_lost May 26 2006, 18:47:09 UTC
*Not too loudly -- but loud enough for her to come out of her reverie.

She returns his smile, and it widens slightly at the sight of his habit.*

Good day, Brother.

Reply

brothercadfael May 26 2006, 18:53:03 UTC
'Good day to you, madam,' he replies, with a pleasant nod. Her accent and her clothing are far closer to the dress of his own time than most any he has seen here thus far. 'You play wonderfully well indeed.'

Reply

mother_lost May 26 2006, 18:55:06 UTC
Well enough, but I am no master. My son plays beautifully.

Reply


Leave a comment

Up