Madanach had profusely apologised, dragged Liriel out of there, gone to the barracks and ordered a squad of ReachGuard into the Temple to clear it up, told Nepos to send a suitably large donation to said Temple as a gesture of apology and then braced himself for a long and difficult conversation with Liriel. Mercifully it turned out she didn't remember anything after having a few drinks with Sam at the wedding party either, and after much cuddling and reassuring each other that it was all right, they still loved each other, they definitely didn't have an open marriage and that they'd drink a disease cure potion each then get back to normal, they'd agreed never to talk about it again. Of course, then the guards had brought that note they'd found in the Temple addressed to Liriel from Sam, with the word 'Rorikstead' scrawled on it in Liriel's own handwriting, and Liriel had left the city in horror, trying to find out just how much was left of their reputations. That had been yesterday... hadn't it? He'd gone to bed to recover and sleep, not having either Liriel's youth or Elven constitution. That had been two days ago??
“I've been in bed two days?” he said vaguely, scratching his face and realising with horror how much stubble was there and how appalling he must look.
“You were fast asleep, Da,” Lucia said and she at least looked worried, bless her. “Are you all right?”
Probably not, but he was king and that did mean getting out of bed and proving he was just fine, thank you very much.
“Yes, yes I'm fine, I just need a shower and a shave and food and... what time is it?”
“Half past nine,” Sissel said, grinning. “You should hurry. Uncle Nepos and Auntie Keirine have a bet going on as to whether you'll be there or not. He thinks you'll be there at ten but you'll look awful, and she says we won't see you before midday. Still looking awful,” she added, completely unnecessarily in Madanach's opinion.
“How much are they betting exactly?” he asked.
“Ten septims,” Lucia told him. Ten septims? Was that all? He'd have expected Keirine to have had a bit more recklessness in her at least. Never mind. It was often the smaller bets that were the most fun to derail.
“Right,” Madanach said, head clearing. “Lucia, open that cupboard and pass me that little red bottle, the bigger red one next to it and that green potion. Sissel, go and fill the washing bowl from the pool and bring it over here, along with that towel next to it and my shaving kit – it's in that Dwemer box. Then get yourselves out of here and not a word to anyone.”
The girls scurried around the room acquiring said items and as they bustled out, Madanach knocked back a poison cure, all-purpose tonic and a stamina draught (and not the Stallion's Draught either, honestly, he kept telling people he didn't need it, he was getting old, not dying) before heading to the very convenient built-in natural pool with waterfall, his Destruction magic providing all the temperature control one might need. By Sithis, he'd missed this room. Two years living here first time around had spoiled him utterly, and now he had it back, he was never letting it go.
Then shaving and getting dressed in his usual formal court regalia – the blue and gold Robes of the First Dragonborn, a little gift from Liriel after the whole Miraak incident, and the matching gloves and boots. Then the Torc of Red Eagle round his neck and a magicka boosting circlet on his head and he was ready to go.
Five minutes before ten, Madanach was striding out into his courtroom as if the last week had never happened, looking as kingly as he ever did.
“At ease,” he snapped as the ReachGuard on duty stood to attention on seeing him. He stopped at the table near the throne, where his steward, bodyguard, sister and daughter were all having breakfast, new son-in-law perched on the daughter's lap.
“Hello Reach-King!” Cicero cooed from where Eola was cuddling him. “You are awake! Cicero missed you!” Without another word, he slid off her lap and bounded over, sliding arms around Madanach's waist and grinning suggestively up at him.
“Welcome back, boss,” Borkul grinned. “We thought you'd never wake up.”
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timeasmymeasure
Re: Thicker Than Blood 1.7
Date: 2014-01-20 09:35 pm (UTC)“I've been in bed two days?” he said vaguely, scratching his face and realising with horror how much stubble was there and how appalling he must look.
“You were fast asleep, Da,” Lucia said and she at least looked worried, bless her. “Are you all right?”
Probably not, but he was king and that did mean getting out of bed and proving he was just fine, thank you very much.
“Yes, yes I'm fine, I just need a shower and a shave and food and... what time is it?”
“Half past nine,” Sissel said, grinning. “You should hurry. Uncle Nepos and Auntie Keirine have a bet going on as to whether you'll be there or not. He thinks you'll be there at ten but you'll look awful, and she says we won't see you before midday. Still looking awful,” she added, completely unnecessarily in Madanach's opinion.
“How much are they betting exactly?” he asked.
“Ten septims,” Lucia told him. Ten septims? Was that all? He'd have expected Keirine to have had a bit more recklessness in her at least. Never mind. It was often the smaller bets that were the most fun to derail.
“Right,” Madanach said, head clearing. “Lucia, open that cupboard and pass me that little red bottle, the bigger red one next to it and that green potion. Sissel, go and fill the washing bowl from the pool and bring it over here, along with that towel next to it and my shaving kit – it's in that Dwemer box. Then get yourselves out of here and not a word to anyone.”
The girls scurried around the room acquiring said items and as they bustled out, Madanach knocked back a poison cure, all-purpose tonic and a stamina draught (and not the Stallion's Draught either, honestly, he kept telling people he didn't need it, he was getting old, not dying) before heading to the very convenient built-in natural pool with waterfall, his Destruction magic providing all the temperature control one might need. By Sithis, he'd missed this room. Two years living here first time around had spoiled him utterly, and now he had it back, he was never letting it go.
Then shaving and getting dressed in his usual formal court regalia – the blue and gold Robes of the First Dragonborn, a little gift from Liriel after the whole Miraak incident, and the matching gloves and boots. Then the Torc of Red Eagle round his neck and a magicka boosting circlet on his head and he was ready to go.
Five minutes before ten, Madanach was striding out into his courtroom as if the last week had never happened, looking as kingly as he ever did.
“At ease,” he snapped as the ReachGuard on duty stood to attention on seeing him. He stopped at the table near the throne, where his steward, bodyguard, sister and daughter were all having breakfast, new son-in-law perched on the daughter's lap.
“Hello Reach-King!” Cicero cooed from where Eola was cuddling him. “You are awake! Cicero missed you!” Without another word, he slid off her lap and bounded over, sliding arms around Madanach's waist and grinning suggestively up at him.
“Welcome back, boss,” Borkul grinned. “We thought you'd never wake up.”