(Untitled)

[fortuneforbid]

Some hundred or so footfalls beyond the wood-plank’d path there stands a clearing shaded by tall trees. In one such tree, perched safe amongst the lower branches, there is a fine tree-house, built small but stout by surer hands than Viola’s and made to stand ‘gainst wind and weather

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[theonionknight]

Davos was not, he had to admit, passing this area by chance. The boy Cesario had been close, he knew, to those that had gone. And so mayhap Davos wished to know how he fared.

When he found the boy sitting a tree and drinking from a jug, he took that as a good sign.

"You need a hand, Cesario?" he shouted the question up with a gesture at the bundles on the ground around him.

[fortuneforbid]

"A hand? Nay, sir, for I've two of those, and they be idle enough." Viola laughs, but she cannot be sure herself whether it rings hollow or no. He calls her Cesario: and why should he not, when no other name hath been given? Then, she'd thought it well, but as it doth hap it seems more and more that Cesario hath done precious little for her, in the end.

Still, she smiles crookedly, calling down to the sailor. "How farest Sir Seaworth? Too sober for my company, I'll warrant."

[theonionknight]

"Too sober for any company, boy," he replied lightly back, "but that can be fixed, quick enough."