Jack o' the Green (
jack_inthegreen) wrote2005-06-21 04:09 am
Good Solstice,
milliways_bar
In the gray pre-dawn light, the man in green has been busy.
There are rows of trestle tables set up by the lake--far from the new grave as well as anything else that might be disturbed by such things--and on the central table he sets up the horn of plenty he carved the day before. Now he lays a hand on the wood and quietly asks the elements around it to fill the horn and assemble themselves, so that there will be plenty to eat and it will all be nourishing and tasty. When he has done this the horn begins to fill and soon food is spilling out: fruit and bottles of wine and loaves of bread and slabs of cold cooked meats and wheels of cheese and whatever else a patron might think to ask for.
At the end of the rows of tables there is a wooden platform, with a small raised stage for musicians and plenty of room for dancers. Jack has found no one to play pipes but no matter, there are still musicians aplenty should anyone wish to dance. And he hopes they will, for what's a celebration without dancing?
Beyond the tables there is a small course set up for races, just a starting- and finish-lines marked off. There is a large rope for tug-of-war, various props like sacks for sack races and spoons for an egg-and-spoon race, and a pitch for bowls and another for playing horsehoes. He thought about playing tossing the caber but decided that might be pushing things a bit, even here.
Farthest from the bar proper is the bonfire, currently unlit. He pauses there and asks the fire within the wood to do no harm to anyone, that there will be no stray sparks or wayward ash to burn.
There is a great deal of magic at Milliways for him to draw upon and soon the party preparations meet with his satisfaction. He blesses the area before he goes back inside for some more rest before the party begins: that no one will be hurt in play or eat themselves sick, that not even a dancer's ankle be turned.
When he is done the morning fog is just beginning to burn off. It's going to be a beautiful day.
There are rows of trestle tables set up by the lake--far from the new grave as well as anything else that might be disturbed by such things--and on the central table he sets up the horn of plenty he carved the day before. Now he lays a hand on the wood and quietly asks the elements around it to fill the horn and assemble themselves, so that there will be plenty to eat and it will all be nourishing and tasty. When he has done this the horn begins to fill and soon food is spilling out: fruit and bottles of wine and loaves of bread and slabs of cold cooked meats and wheels of cheese and whatever else a patron might think to ask for.
At the end of the rows of tables there is a wooden platform, with a small raised stage for musicians and plenty of room for dancers. Jack has found no one to play pipes but no matter, there are still musicians aplenty should anyone wish to dance. And he hopes they will, for what's a celebration without dancing?
Beyond the tables there is a small course set up for races, just a starting- and finish-lines marked off. There is a large rope for tug-of-war, various props like sacks for sack races and spoons for an egg-and-spoon race, and a pitch for bowls and another for playing horsehoes. He thought about playing tossing the caber but decided that might be pushing things a bit, even here.
Farthest from the bar proper is the bonfire, currently unlit. He pauses there and asks the fire within the wood to do no harm to anyone, that there will be no stray sparks or wayward ash to burn.
There is a great deal of magic at Milliways for him to draw upon and soon the party preparations meet with his satisfaction. He blesses the area before he goes back inside for some more rest before the party begins: that no one will be hurt in play or eat themselves sick, that not even a dancer's ankle be turned.
When he is done the morning fog is just beginning to burn off. It's going to be a beautiful day.

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"Then ... if I may," he breathes. "Mine."
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"...You may."
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Puck kisses him fiercely, breaking off to nip and suck at his throat. His hands are gentle, but deft and quick on Havelock's body.
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"We're rather conspicuous, aren't we?" he chuckles, glancing towards the shore, where the Midsummer partiers have begun to gather in greater numbers. His hands still caress Havelock's side and chest.
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"So it would seem."
Without warning, he moves back from Puck and drops underwater.
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Not trying to get away, are you?
He catches hold of his hand and pulls Havelock towards shore, wading through the shallows with his soaked breeches nearly sliding off his hips.
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Havelock shakes his head as they wade out to get rid of the excess water.
"Even if I wished to, I doubt I could," he continues.
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He glances at Havelock, gaze softening a little.
"You're lovely, you know."
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He frowns slightly at the ground while rubbing his hair, sending water droplets flying.
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"You disagree?"
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"I have... never given much thought to the matter."
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"Perhaps I shall, then"
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"Come with me?" he whispers.
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"I am surprised you ask..." Havelock muses softly. "I will."