[it could be hours, and hawk thinks he'd be quite content to hear anything counselor laughlin had to say on any matter. there's a certain melodic note to both his voice and the cadence of his revelations - clearly a knowledgeable man as much as he is fetching to look at. that sort of combination leaves quite the impression on hawk, and if he were to stop and peel past the exhaustion and filth and look closely inward, he'd be able to see it's an even deeper one than even kenneth had on him. kenneth was all things light and sweet and lovely, of course, but he was much too soft for the battlefield and far too trusting of others to ever survive in the world of politics. there's something about tim that feels sturdier, firmly planted here in a way that speaks to how he's earned his place among a kingdom that isn't even his.]
Don't worry - it's no offense of your own, or even of the King's for their behavior. I'm under no illusion that I was - maybe still am - an enemy of the crown as of...hm, say half a day's time, give or take?
[but he sounds a little amused by the whole thing, an ease about the fact that in many other circumstances he'd be more akin to a prisoner of war, having all his freedoms taken away by shackling him - no matter how trussed up it is - in the form of a delicate hand and a marriage that will theoretically unite their kingdoms as surely as it dooms him to his own fate. a duty he must take on, because if he doesn't? too many lives are at stake. no one wants war, insurrectionists and more bloodshed in the countryside and near the borders. it's a few years of learning the customs, not that unlike their own, for they were once borne of this kingdom anyway - of hiding his true nature until he has the throne and ironically the freedom is restored to a degree requiring delicacy and discretion.
would tim still be here? he finds himself idly wondering when he reaches that ascension - would this man serve him as surely as he serves smith? it's a reassuring idea for a number of reasons, especially when he looks him in the eyes and sees nothing but reverence and a dogged honesty that is easy to tell when he's looked at so many others and seen scorn, falsehoods, underlying agendas. this is rare, especially among the politically inclined elite. that, and the fact that he does not look down on duties that would be better suited to a chambermaid or even the barbaric guards who would rather wield muscle and little else of intelligent life.
there's nothing disheveled then, in hawk's opinion - moreso just further evidence of how immersed tim makes himself in his duties. yet another honorable pursuit. and when he bends down to retrieve it, there is a moment that brings them both impossibly closer together - enough that he can smell something slightly spiced and see a light dusting of sun-kissed spots along the bridge of his nose, beneath the delicate frames perched there. there's a beautiful shimmer in his long waves - flecks of gold, hair oil of some kind? up close he looks like an ethereal being that men like him would sooner throw their lives away for, belonging at the very least on a dais in his own country. hawk knows the sensation the moment it shifts between them, something warm and undeniable in the way it feels like he might pluck it out of the air and feel the tension between his blood-stained hands.
the flush looks all too alluring on him, and hawk offers only the slightest of knowing, appreciative smirks before he reaches for the small hair clip all the same and stands so he can offer tim his hand, dirty as it is to help him rise back up.]
No objections at all. In fact, it's my pleasure.
[his palm doesn't linger so as not to offend, noting that it's a strong grip all the same, before he reaches to lightly brush back some of tim's chestnut waves from his shoulder and twisting them lightly so he might push the clip back and keep them out of the way.]
There. Perfect.
[it's not the hair he means, either. it's - everything, really, if the way his gaze shifts from head to toe across tim. there's no motion to step away, though he does turn towards the waiting bath.]
I wonder - if I haven't taken up much of your time already Counselor, if you'd join me at my bathside. I have much to learn before I meet Smith and his daughter for dinner, and you seem the right man for the job.
no subject
Don't worry - it's no offense of your own, or even of the King's for their behavior. I'm under no illusion that I was - maybe still am - an enemy of the crown as of...hm, say half a day's time, give or take?
[but he sounds a little amused by the whole thing, an ease about the fact that in many other circumstances he'd be more akin to a prisoner of war, having all his freedoms taken away by shackling him - no matter how trussed up it is - in the form of a delicate hand and a marriage that will theoretically unite their kingdoms as surely as it dooms him to his own fate. a duty he must take on, because if he doesn't? too many lives are at stake. no one wants war, insurrectionists and more bloodshed in the countryside and near the borders. it's a few years of learning the customs, not that unlike their own, for they were once borne of this kingdom anyway - of hiding his true nature until he has the throne and ironically the freedom is restored to a degree requiring delicacy and discretion.
would tim still be here? he finds himself idly wondering when he reaches that ascension - would this man serve him as surely as he serves smith? it's a reassuring idea for a number of reasons, especially when he looks him in the eyes and sees nothing but reverence and a dogged honesty that is easy to tell when he's looked at so many others and seen scorn, falsehoods, underlying agendas. this is rare, especially among the politically inclined elite. that, and the fact that he does not look down on duties that would be better suited to a chambermaid or even the barbaric guards who would rather wield muscle and little else of intelligent life.
there's nothing disheveled then, in hawk's opinion - moreso just further evidence of how immersed tim makes himself in his duties. yet another honorable pursuit. and when he bends down to retrieve it, there is a moment that brings them both impossibly closer together - enough that he can smell something slightly spiced and see a light dusting of sun-kissed spots along the bridge of his nose, beneath the delicate frames perched there. there's a beautiful shimmer in his long waves - flecks of gold, hair oil of some kind? up close he looks like an ethereal being that men like him would sooner throw their lives away for, belonging at the very least on a dais in his own country. hawk knows the sensation the moment it shifts between them, something warm and undeniable in the way it feels like he might pluck it out of the air and feel the tension between his blood-stained hands.
the flush looks all too alluring on him, and hawk offers only the slightest of knowing, appreciative smirks before he reaches for the small hair clip all the same and stands so he can offer tim his hand, dirty as it is to help him rise back up.]
No objections at all. In fact, it's my pleasure.
[his palm doesn't linger so as not to offend, noting that it's a strong grip all the same, before he reaches to lightly brush back some of tim's chestnut waves from his shoulder and twisting them lightly so he might push the clip back and keep them out of the way.]
There. Perfect.
[it's not the hair he means, either. it's - everything, really, if the way his gaze shifts from head to toe across tim. there's no motion to step away, though he does turn towards the waiting bath.]
I wonder - if I haven't taken up much of your time already Counselor, if you'd join me at my bathside. I have much to learn before I meet Smith and his daughter for dinner, and you seem the right man for the job.