Sunday Mornings [open]

[vicioussweetie]

The Trainer household was hardly what anyone would call "common", but even still it tended to have its routines and rituals. One was that Sunday mornings were spent being quietly productive. Nobody got up too terribly early, but after breakfast it was expected something useful be done with the day

Comments

[discreet_valour]

*Sundays are all about prayer, aren't they?

Quietly, carefully, Aramis has indeed been praying: head bowed over his hands, with every sign of humility save, when he looks up, the dash of determination in his eyes.

But one cannot closet oneself for ever, even if one is the future Bishop of Vannes. He emerges, padding quietly, to see what may be occurring*

[vicioussweetie]

The clues are quick and two-fold: the air is perfumed with the smells of cooking, mingling into a heady combination that says "good things are happening here"; and Ali's music is playing. There's no question it's Ali's music, with the strings and the drums and the making people feel things.

Also, the pets are conspicuously absent...until he finds the kitchen.

[discreet_valour]

*He likes both music and the smells of food, and so follows them unerringly: penniless musketeers and clergy alike would do the same. He peeks into the kitchen, wide-eyed*

...'allo?

[vicioussweetie]

"Bon matin, darling. Did you sleep well?" Ali puts down her knife, leaving off the chopping of things to pour him a glass of juice. "Would you like some breakfast?"