Dear readers,
I know these are filler chapters, but things will pick up again in the next few =)
Love to all,
Pip
-Evoric's home, a few days later –
"Fancy any of the lads that come in for ale?" Evoric's wife asked.
The busty woman, with a chinless smile and the heartiest laugh in Camelot, spooned me another helping of stew, and ignored my polite wave-off. "There are some handsome ones, I reckon?"
I chewed a mouthful of stew and swallowed uncomfortably. "I do not think any customers have come to my particular attention."
"Ah, lies," Evoric joked, "That Sir Gwaine comes in oft' enough, sometimes not even drinkin'."
"I might be mistaken," I corrected quietly, "But I believe Sir Gwaine and I are just good friends."
"Hm, I wonder why that be?" Evoric mused.
"Ha! You're right to not set your cap at him," his wife added, "Sir Gwaine and that tall, lunkhead friend of his are menaces in my kitchen—always stealing scraps and such. It's like having small children about."
I chuckled. "I couldn't possibly fall for a thief of the royal kitchens."
"Good lass," she laughed, beaming. "But bein' friend with him… that's not all bad, is it, Evoric?"
"'Course it ain't," laughed Evoric, reaching over and brushing his hand against her cheek. "Bein' friends is how we got to be so happy, innit, love?"
"That's right, it is," returned his wife. "Mark me, Wren. Keep your friends closer than yer own heart. These are dark times we live in; we're barely hanging on in this 'peaceful reign', like the way a tiny flame clings to the wick of a candle. And you'll want a hand t'hold when the light is snuffed out."
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