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Author Topic: Dinner with Grandmother  (Read 1095 times)


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Dinner with Grandmother
« on: October 19, 2015, 11:59:45 PM »
{So wonderful, prim and proper Grandmary is yours to do with as you will in your replies as well/as you need. Let the fun begin! <3}

A part of Wes had never expected to see the Gondorian coasts again, let alone Dol Amroth, after all it was too risky, returning the lad back to those who may just seize him up to safety yet again and hang the crew for kidnapping along with the rest of their piracy.

But they had essentially saved him from the shipwreck...they may have also caused...the morals of it all were hazy and Wes by now convinced that he would at least speak up for the crew who were his friends...all but Nir of course; yet even he had yet to all out attack the boy. Giving Wes the confidence that Grandmary would be safe.

It was a ludicrous plan by all accounting! Pirates and Dinner with his Grandmother in the manor's elegant dining room! Wes had poured as careful wording as he could into the letter telling of his allowed return and lessons with the crew. Showing them the basics of eating and not repelling other dinner guests by ones' eating habits.

By all accounts they were as ready as they would ever be...

Still, Wes was more than a bit hesitant and nervous as they ported and he lead the way, first down the ramp and onto Gondorian soil. The boy didn't know why (well he did) but he expected authorities to come swooping in to arrest the crew at any moment. But then that didn't hold, a few of them as well were from Gondor if not Dol Amroth and had to be able to secretly visit home without dodging guards every single time...or maybe they did.

At any rate, this coast was clear but for the average fisherman or wandering citizen. Second problem was what would they think when they saw the manor house? They already sort of knew where he came from, but...more than a few of them were sure to rag more than a bit, yet perhaps good naturedly.

Wes couldn't even try to ponder and factor in Grandmary's reaction...though it had been his main concern all along. As they walked to the house, thankfully they were still largely unexpected or coordinating with unsure putting into port times for a carriage to deliver them to the house was nigh impossible. So they walked. And Wes had a bit more time to try and remind as to good behavior.

"Now, remember, Grandmary's...", delicate wasn't the right word...

"Anyway, just try not to...burp at the table...or stab any of the roast meats, they will be served and..." Just don't make my grandmother faint please.... Wes recognized he was nit-picking. "Sorry, it's just...Grandmary's very...particular and...likes clean and...proper. I want her to let me stay...".

After such a statement, Wes promptly skipped over it by jogging over the rest of the distance and to the door, giving a proper knock at the knocker. It was a showing thing that Grandmary herself answered and not one of those of the house.

"Wesley my angel!", the boy was instantly squished over into a hug. He was so happy to see her himself that he didn't correct the full-naming, yet felt a bit awkward recalling the crew was behind witnessing this dotage. Not that he could blame her. She'd thought him dead not too long before.

"It's good to see you again, Grandmary! Um...this is the crew that...saved me...sort of". Wes had tried to show the Staunch Harlot and her crew in as fine a light as he could without lying when explaining...

Sig made by wonderful Cass ~



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Re: Dinner with Grandmother
« Reply #1 on: October 25, 2015, 12:41:04 AM »

“Don’t sneer.” They first told the captain as they went through this properness preparation, slouching on her desk, arms and legs crossed in irritation.  She didn’t sneer, Barabal attempted to correct at one point, but her voice drowned as the list continued. “Don’t curse.” Well, she might as well stay quiet throughout the dinner’s duration. “Try enunciating better.” …Or not.   “…Might be best if you wore a dress…” Well, where the hell was she going to keep any of her… “And no weapons, please?” Had she mentioned how much she hated all of this?

Barabal was still trying to understand how they found themselves in this situation - or rather, how they had arrived into agreement.  The boy had first tested the suggestion in a moment of tenacity, a jest even in its ludicrous nature - pirates visiting a lady’s home, whoever had ever heard of that? Perhaps she had spoken too soon; no, she had spoken too soon taking Wes’ request at face value instead of it being an actual request. ’We’ll go, if ‘at is what you need,’ she still recalls saying, eyes never lifted from the notes before her. If she had only looked up, if she had taken a mere moment to have her gaze flitter up, Barabal might have seen the genuine surprise that had colored the boy’s features. Genuine, not a test, and most definitely not a jest. But the captain hadn’t spared a glance, waving his away the half-stuttered ‘thanks’ as he scurried away. That, she expected, would be the last of that.

Except it wasn’t.

Frankly, the captain had completely forgotten about their little exchange until the discussion came to light, the young cabin boy announcing that the letter to this ’Grandmary’ had been sent - and their attendance to dinner was expected, mandatory even. Barabal tried her best to ignore the situation as long as she could, figuring the child would sooner forget than take them through that ordeal. Of course that never happened, just the captain’s luck. As time came and went, the boy’s eagerness grew instead of diminishing, and the captain had to make the decision of setting things straight. They would not be traveling to Dol Amroth and they would definitely would not be attending any dinner. 

Except she didn’t; tell him, that is.

While able to stare down any man and see the threat of her death as normalcy, the captain could not find it within herself to break the young boy’s heart. It was one visit, one bloody dinner, one day. That’s all that was needed - one day to leave this nonsense behind and for normalcy to return to the Harlot. Well, as much normalcy that the pirate crew seemed to offer.

Considering her current state, however, she would have much rather correcting Wes early on.

Barabal walked, as did all of them, the skirts of the damned dress hoisted to her arm as she moved. Twice she nearly stumbled during their little outing, the fabric caught awkwardly with the sheathe secured to her thigh - what they didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt them after all - making her regret the decision more than once. A comfort really more than a necessity to keep the captain grounded throughout the exchange.

“Now, remember, Grandmary’s…”

Wes was talking and Barabal’s gaze flickered from the road below her and to the small child briefly as they continued to walk. She was half-aware of how he explained his grandmother’s nature yet again, a more nervous wreck she hadn’t seen - Endearing, really. - before his words fully garnered the captain’s attention. “Stay?” The woman repeated to herself. The statement, a seeming afterthought lingering with them. Is that what the child wanted? Barabal’s lips fell open in mild surprise, looking after the blond mess that bounded down the road. Wes’ intentions should come as no surprise if she were to be perfectly honest, she had been expecting it for a while, but hearing it; well, it was different. Closing her eyes, the woman took a breath before giving a short little sigh. If that is what the boy wanted, so be it.

“Well, you ‘eard ‘im.” She said, glancing back, the red fabric slipping from her arm, grazing her legs as it pooled about her feet. “Best be on our best be’avior ‘en.” Please don’t bloody steal anything. Smoothening the fabric, the captain followed after the boy, making her best to remember not to do, well, anything.

"Wesley my angel!” And that must be the infamous Granmary, Barabal chuckled, watching in mild amusement as the woman pulled the child against her.

“A pleasure,” The word seemed so heavy now as the captain spoke as clearly as she could muster, after the young boy’s introduction. “…Wesley He even had a longer name she had to pronounce? Shit. “…has spoken volumes of you, my lady.” Well, in the past couple of weeks he had at least. “I am, Barabal, captain.” She froze, shit. Was she even supposed to say that?

Maker, this was going to be a long night.

Tags: pirates