🌹 certified 20 lorenz hellman gloucester 🌹 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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dumbshow2024-01-05 02:03 pm
hotproblems) wrote in dumbshow2024-01-05 02:03 pm
the nobles au for armwriostle
[It has been a long winter. Lorenz enjoys a diplomatic visit, really, he does, he thrives at that kind of thing - but the winter has been long, and the weather has delayed his return to his own home, and the diplomacy has turned to awkward meals taken with these fellow nobility he doesn't quite know beyond reputation (and if he's being honest, he doesn't quite like, but Father's every letter stresses how polite and neutral he must appear), and it's getting... frustrating.
He misses his own house, his family's territory, not being a guest forced to idle in sitting rooms and listen to someone else's local politics. He loves idling in sitting rooms... like, sometimes. Not daily. He would like to go home and get back to taking care of his own people, but: the winter, the weather, the visit. He's still here.
Even his Father's not-so-subtle sub-mission, to keep an eye on the Duke's illegitimate Crest-bearing son, has... waned, significantly. The man keeps to himself, from Lorenz's brief observations; once they were introduced he saw very little of him for a long time, save for a few glimpses here and there. It makes sense to him, an illegitimate son is naturally not as involved in the proceedings of... local management, as it were, unless his noble father is lacking in heirs, which this man's - Wriothesley's - is not. So. It makes sense.
But it is off-putting, the way said heirs speak of their half-brother. Lorenz sips his tea through it and makes no comment; first he had listened intently, following Father's orders to determine if anything was afoot here, but it doesn't seem like that at all. No, it seems like Wriothesley's half-siblings are... cruel.
Lorenz doesn't know what to do about that. It's not his place to say, and in the parlance of noble public relations, not saying anything could just as easily be taken as tacit approval as not, so - that's uncomfortable.
But he is supposed to keep an eye on the man, at Father's behest, and so... he tries. It's more difficult than he expects, it's like trying to keep track of a gust of wind, and soon Father is admonishing him in his letters for turning up no useful information. Lorenz is tired of it, and tired physically by staying up into the night to pen a reply, and so he puts down his papers and sets about finding himself some tea in the dead of night. The staff are asleep, but he's capable, he can brew a cup—]
Oh! [—but startling is the presence of the wind himself, Wriothesley-who-is-never-around-the-house, here in the kitchens, seemingly popping out of the darkness to reach for the same tea leaves Lorenz has just reached for. He steps back - it is... wildly embarrassing to be caught wandering the house in which he is a guest, for starters - and then it occurs to him that this is the first time he's seen this man in actual days, and it's-]
It's the middle of the night.
[Like yeah, he's here too, but this is Wriothesley's house...]
I, aha— I should not be wandering.
He misses his own house, his family's territory, not being a guest forced to idle in sitting rooms and listen to someone else's local politics. He loves idling in sitting rooms... like, sometimes. Not daily. He would like to go home and get back to taking care of his own people, but: the winter, the weather, the visit. He's still here.
Even his Father's not-so-subtle sub-mission, to keep an eye on the Duke's illegitimate Crest-bearing son, has... waned, significantly. The man keeps to himself, from Lorenz's brief observations; once they were introduced he saw very little of him for a long time, save for a few glimpses here and there. It makes sense to him, an illegitimate son is naturally not as involved in the proceedings of... local management, as it were, unless his noble father is lacking in heirs, which this man's - Wriothesley's - is not. So. It makes sense.
But it is off-putting, the way said heirs speak of their half-brother. Lorenz sips his tea through it and makes no comment; first he had listened intently, following Father's orders to determine if anything was afoot here, but it doesn't seem like that at all. No, it seems like Wriothesley's half-siblings are... cruel.
Lorenz doesn't know what to do about that. It's not his place to say, and in the parlance of noble public relations, not saying anything could just as easily be taken as tacit approval as not, so - that's uncomfortable.
But he is supposed to keep an eye on the man, at Father's behest, and so... he tries. It's more difficult than he expects, it's like trying to keep track of a gust of wind, and soon Father is admonishing him in his letters for turning up no useful information. Lorenz is tired of it, and tired physically by staying up into the night to pen a reply, and so he puts down his papers and sets about finding himself some tea in the dead of night. The staff are asleep, but he's capable, he can brew a cup—]
Oh! [—but startling is the presence of the wind himself, Wriothesley-who-is-never-around-the-house, here in the kitchens, seemingly popping out of the darkness to reach for the same tea leaves Lorenz has just reached for. He steps back - it is... wildly embarrassing to be caught wandering the house in which he is a guest, for starters - and then it occurs to him that this is the first time he's seen this man in actual days, and it's-]
It's the middle of the night.
[Like yeah, he's here too, but this is Wriothesley's house...]
I, aha— I should not be wandering.
no subject
He leans against the large table in the middle of the room and folds his arms over his chest.] They're books from the bookstore that they were planning to throw out. Once in awhile I help there, so they just give them to me since they would be disposed of anyways. I just replace books every so often when it's obvious that they can't be taken care of any longer.
[He walks over and pulls one of the books out. It might be the volume of poetry that Lorenz had been looking at.] I read all of them at least once. It's a learning experience, even if I don't end up enjoying it.
no subject
So there's that. Shopping is enjoyable.]
It seems like a waste to dispose of them all due to lack of proper care—and so disheartening. [THE BASEMENT--he's fine] Perhaps if there were more interest in literacy among the people, the shop could house them elsewhere...
[Lorenz, about to invent the public library because this dank basement makes him sad--
He eyes the book of poetry, like, super casually. So casually. He's very normal.]
Did you enjoy that one? When you read it the first time.
no subject
Shelf space is limited. Eventually, things that aren't selling or have become too old has to be tossed. The environment here also expedites their decay. [Which is something he laments over a bit. There are a few books that he wish he could have held onto, but the pages were molding and the book was falling apart at the seams.
He smiles a little and holds it out to Lorenz.] I am fond of this one. A lot of the poems are about love. Here. You can read it while we have tea. It should be ready.
no subject
Regrettable. He hums, shrugging lightly; it's disappointing to hear, but there's nothing he can do about that, it seems.
As for this book,]
It's— mm. [He takes it with an odd expression, brow knitted just slightly. Without consulting the table of contents he flips through the pages to a particular piece and lets the book fall open to it.
After looking at it fondly for a moment, he holds the book back out to Wriothesley. Please, he knows poetry.]
This one is my favorite. Particularly the second verse, regarding likening the vast and ravenous nature of the sea to the depth of one's love...
[Tea now, please.]
no subject
You're fond of poetry then. [He doesn't mention out loud how Lorenz already knew the poem he wanted to show and the page it was on. If Lorenz were to deny his fondness, then Wriothesley gave him space to do so.
After all, the other seemed to be a little hesitant to grab the book in the first place.] That one is quite good. You're correct.
[He moves to lift the tray and bring it over from the cart to the large table. He goes to the shelves to grab a few tins. A tin that had sugar cubes and another tin with biscuits. Both were rather sparse, but he obviously had no intention not to serve what he had with a guest next to him. He takes two cubes of sugar to add it to his cup and stirs it in.] I can't offer anything extravagant. I hope it isn't a bother.
[The son of the Duke and a Crest Bearer and he lives like a peasant.]