[ there are thousands of ways an interaction such as this could go, really, and tim is already far too aware of the fact that he can talk overlong when a little nervous. well - it isn't exactly nervous so much as it is undying, dogged curiosity. of course he's read everything he coudld get his hands on about this man, but even those tales seem a little too far fetched to match the utter ikon of a man before him.
he does not often allow himself to look at others, really, considering his job and duties. he doesn't allow himself the distractions of the flesh as often as he did when he was younger, but even now, his tastes have changed. whereas he dallied with fair-faced girls in his younger years, sometimes he steals evenings away in little lodgings with firmer bodies, more angled faces - men, with deeper voices and stronger hands.
it's impossible to deny that hawkins fuller is beautiful, of course, even smudged in filth and smelling like the long journey, cooked in the sun. yes, a hot bath is exactly what this man needs. ]
I am always a servant of the Crown, my lord, there's never doubt to that. You are part of that care now as well, even though I'm sure the guards made you feel otherwise. They'll relax in time - everyone will.
[ perhaps he is highly revered, paid well, given titles - but it does not stop him from making sure rooms are arranged appropriately, making sure waters are warm when needed, food arrives on time, clothes set out, etc. there's more to his job than simple politics. ]
So it's natural that I know your name. I was at the war table when we first heard it, just as we were planning our next course of action. You brought everything to - ah
[ a little pause as the hairpiece hits the ground. he's never so disheveled, but everything has been so harried and hurried since the announcement of hawk's arrival - he's hardly had a moment to breathe. it shows then, in the way he nearly dips to reach for the hairpiece, but pauses, blinking up at the dark haired man, surprise.
a man such as hawkins fuller on bended knee to him, for one, but he's startled by the cool colors in his eyes. yes, he can smell the dirt, the sweat, the blood on him, but it fazes him not. he grew up in a struggle-rife territory, so it's nothing new, but somehow it makes his blood run a little hotter here, makes something flip warm and pleasant in his stomach.
it's wrong, that he's feeling this. that he can feel prickles of heat up his spine, or the way the faintest red works its way into the high points of his cheek. ]
Oh. [ this man will be king one day, and strangely, even in these brief moments, something in him trusts that he will be a good one. ] If you'd - I've no objections, but please, do not feel - I should have been paying more attention, so -
[ a sigh, a wrinkle of his nose. he can't shake the strange, electricity on the air. ]
no subject
he does not often allow himself to look at others, really, considering his job and duties. he doesn't allow himself the distractions of the flesh as often as he did when he was younger, but even now, his tastes have changed. whereas he dallied with fair-faced girls in his younger years, sometimes he steals evenings away in little lodgings with firmer bodies, more angled faces - men, with deeper voices and stronger hands.
it's impossible to deny that hawkins fuller is beautiful, of course, even smudged in filth and smelling like the long journey, cooked in the sun. yes, a hot bath is exactly what this man needs. ]
I am always a servant of the Crown, my lord, there's never doubt to that. You are part of that care now as well, even though I'm sure the guards made you feel otherwise. They'll relax in time - everyone will.
[ perhaps he is highly revered, paid well, given titles - but it does not stop him from making sure rooms are arranged appropriately, making sure waters are warm when needed, food arrives on time, clothes set out, etc. there's more to his job than simple politics. ]
So it's natural that I know your name. I was at the war table when we first heard it, just as we were planning our next course of action. You brought everything to - ah
[ a little pause as the hairpiece hits the ground. he's never so disheveled, but everything has been so harried and hurried since the announcement of hawk's arrival - he's hardly had a moment to breathe. it shows then, in the way he nearly dips to reach for the hairpiece, but pauses, blinking up at the dark haired man, surprise.
a man such as hawkins fuller on bended knee to him, for one, but he's startled by the cool colors in his eyes. yes, he can smell the dirt, the sweat, the blood on him, but it fazes him not. he grew up in a struggle-rife territory, so it's nothing new, but somehow it makes his blood run a little hotter here, makes something flip warm and pleasant in his stomach.
it's wrong, that he's feeling this. that he can feel prickles of heat up his spine, or the way the faintest red works its way into the high points of his cheek. ]
Oh. [ this man will be king one day, and strangely, even in these brief moments, something in him trusts that he will be a good one. ] If you'd - I've no objections, but please, do not feel - I should have been paying more attention, so -
[ a sigh, a wrinkle of his nose. he can't shake the strange, electricity on the air. ]
Please. It's kind of you.