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witticasterThe noun form of the word "keep" just makes me want a Woolfverse/ASOIAF crossover (Will would be the patriStark, ala Ned, and Tharkay? idk, something exciting, maybe an Arryn just so he can have a falcon crest, and it wouldn't be unlikely for him and Will to make an alliance, and plus, he'd be living way the hell up in the mountains), but I think that's more than I can do when I'm already half-falling-asleep. :| so we'll use the verb form of the word, I suppose.
"Why don't we watch the movie you got for your birthday, Martha?" Will suggested when the four of them were once more alone. After the Hornblowers had picked Richard up, the house was bedraggled but quiet, strangely peaceful after the dozen children and animals that had filled it up that afternoon. "You aren't hungry, are you?"
George shook his head. Martha was more intent on ripping the plastic off the DVD she had received as a gift, which Will took to mean no, I'm far too interested in my presents to eat, Daddy. And Tharkay was simply quiet, wearing the carefully blank sort of expression that suggested he was tempted to escape into his study for the rest of the evening.
Will could not blame him for that desire--while he could think of no one thing he feared as Tharkay did snakes, he supposed he might not think himself fit for company after such a run-in himself--but he did suspect that brooding on the incident alone would do little to soothe any frazzled nerves. He had been inclined all afternoon to do little so much as curl up with Tharkay until he felt better, but the party (and, no doubt, Tharkay's overdeveloped sense of pride) had put paid to that idea. This was his first real chance to do anything of the sort.
Martha put the film into the DVD player and scrambled back to the settee to sit next to George, who was paging through a brand-new book on animals. Turning to Tharkay, Will offered him a hopeful smile, which Tharkay did not return; he merely nodded, a bit curtly, and led the way over to the sofa.
They stretched out there, Will curling his arms around Tharkay and drawing him as close as he might without feeling indecent in front of the children. Not that they would have noticed, having been drawn immediately into the animated story of a boy and his dragon (a gift from Temeraire, who had ostensibly been there to help chaperon but in truth was as excited for the animal circle as Martha and George), and not that Will would have considered anything more than kisses to Tharkay's forehead and temple--the point stood, however shakily.
And then Tharkay curled closer to him, resting his head against Will's chest and slipping a hand into one of Will's. There was nothing to be done at that point except to hold Tharkay, the silent reassurance that all was well, and to watch a great black dragon soar across their television.
Christ, I'm so incredibly out of practice, that was shit. It probably doesn't help that I'm really tired, but that was shit. I'm sorry, I'll try better tomorrow.
"Why don't we watch the movie you got for your birthday, Martha?" Will suggested when the four of them were once more alone. After the Hornblowers had picked Richard up, the house was bedraggled but quiet, strangely peaceful after the dozen children and animals that had filled it up that afternoon. "You aren't hungry, are you?"
George shook his head. Martha was more intent on ripping the plastic off the DVD she had received as a gift, which Will took to mean no, I'm far too interested in my presents to eat, Daddy. And Tharkay was simply quiet, wearing the carefully blank sort of expression that suggested he was tempted to escape into his study for the rest of the evening.
Will could not blame him for that desire--while he could think of no one thing he feared as Tharkay did snakes, he supposed he might not think himself fit for company after such a run-in himself--but he did suspect that brooding on the incident alone would do little to soothe any frazzled nerves. He had been inclined all afternoon to do little so much as curl up with Tharkay until he felt better, but the party (and, no doubt, Tharkay's overdeveloped sense of pride) had put paid to that idea. This was his first real chance to do anything of the sort.
Martha put the film into the DVD player and scrambled back to the settee to sit next to George, who was paging through a brand-new book on animals. Turning to Tharkay, Will offered him a hopeful smile, which Tharkay did not return; he merely nodded, a bit curtly, and led the way over to the sofa.
They stretched out there, Will curling his arms around Tharkay and drawing him as close as he might without feeling indecent in front of the children. Not that they would have noticed, having been drawn immediately into the animated story of a boy and his dragon (a gift from Temeraire, who had ostensibly been there to help chaperon but in truth was as excited for the animal circle as Martha and George), and not that Will would have considered anything more than kisses to Tharkay's forehead and temple--the point stood, however shakily.
And then Tharkay curled closer to him, resting his head against Will's chest and slipping a hand into one of Will's. There was nothing to be done at that point except to hold Tharkay, the silent reassurance that all was well, and to watch a great black dragon soar across their television.
Christ, I'm so incredibly out of practice, that was shit. It probably doesn't help that I'm really tired, but that was shit. I'm sorry, I'll try better tomorrow.
