Prose log with Seed

[percivalthegale]

Who: Percival and Seed (1ikethewolf)
When: backdated to just before Seed and Camus left on their journey
Where: the cafe
What: Percival promised Seed a home-cooked meal

The preparations for the festival had put Percival in an extraordinarily good mood, so when Seed sent word that he would take him up on the offer made a while ago, for dinner, he was delighted to be able to oblige. He was just putting the finishing touches on it, trying to stay out of Mamie's way while she provided the regular menu for all of the visitors to the castle. At least Percival wasn't worried about impressing his guest, for he had his shirtsleeves rolled up and a towel over one shoulder while he checked the bread one last time.

Seed had thought that it would be good to collect on Percival's offer before leaving on his trip with Camus and Jillia. After all, he wasn't sure that he would ever return to this homely little castle, not after finally reaching Highland... and it was always nice to have a dinner with friends before parting. Not that Percival was what he'd call a friend, or that he was really intending to tell anyone that he was leaving but... it was a meal and it was an invitation and why not?

So he made his way to the cafe where Percival had told him to come, and, pushing the door open, he called out good-naturedly, as if he was walking into the stables, and not an eating establishment: "Percival? You here?"

Percival's head poked out the side door to the kitchen. "Ah, Seed! I'll be just a moment, I need to take the bread out of the oven." He gestured to one of the tables back in a quieter corner, away from the chattering throngs of other diners. "Have a seat, I'll be right there. I do hope you don't mind that I didn't pick flowers for the table," he added with a teasing laugh as he disappeared back into the kitchen.

Seed sprawled more than sat down, one arm hooked over the back of the chair, then repositioned his sword belt slightly with his free hand. "You can't eat flowers", he shot back, laughing, "So they would've been a waste of time anyway."

Percival swept back through the door a moment later, bearing a covered dish in both hands and a basket balanced in the crook of his arm. "Actually, you can," he said smartly. "Certain ones, anyway. But I promise there are no flowers in tonight's meal. Not very many vegetables either." He set down the main dish first, and then carefully maneuvered the bread basket to perch next to it. "It's the wrong time of year. But the perfect time for a beef stew with mushrooms, and fresh-baked bread." He raised one finger, then. "And I'll be right back with the wine."

"You can eat flowers?" Seed had a visions of daisies staring up at him in his plate like gold eyes framed by white lashes, and frowned. Why would anyone eat flowers? It seemed like it wouldn't be filling, at the very least. "I'm not a bee, so I'm glad you didn't put any in the... oh stew!" The Highland general eyed the stew happily, but managed to the curb the impulse to dig in... he did have some manners, after all, even after years upon years of eating in mess halls around the continent.

Once more, Percival ducked through the kitchen door, this time bearing a bottle of an appropriate wine for the dish, which he set down between the plates before taking a seat. Only then did he notice the towel, and yanked it off his shoulder rather quickly, tossing it aside. "I could have gone for something far more fancy, but...even a simple meal cooked properly can be a luxury at times." He drew up the chair and reached for the wine bottle. "May I?"

Seed smiled at Percival. "You know I'm from the country, I like home cooking better than all the fancy little entrees I had to eat at court. Those things are barely big enough to feed a mouse... and who enjoys cucumber sandwiches anyway? The palace cook prepared some for a foreign ambassador once..." When Seed started telling stories, he always seemed to get caugh up, gesturing to make them more lively, which he was already doing, his hands showing the girth of said ambassador, "And he snarfed down so many... Culgan and I ended up sneaking down to the kitchen and begging for a roast chicken at the end of the meal..."

Percival chuckled while he poured them both a glass of wine, deciding not to wait for permission. "Oh dear. Sounds like more than one Councilor I've met in my time. Courtly events are a terrible time for real food - those little bits may taste good, but all you get is that taste. One tiny taste and it's over. No chance to savor." He lifted the lid off the stew and let the fragrance of beef simmered in a sherry sauce with potatoes and mushrooms waft over the table they shared. "Mm, not like this. This is why I took up cooking as a hobby."

The grin on Seed's face grew wider as he smelled the lovely aroma of the stew. "At least the palace cook liked me, he always had something waiting after those horrible dinners. I don't know why they kept on dragging me to court functions, I'm horrible at diplomacy and I can't even tie my own cravat!"

"And not for lack of being taught time and time again, I would guess," Percival smirked, absently brushing a hand over his throat. He wasn't wearing one today, just a lightweight shirt with laces at the collar, most of which had come undone while he was cooking. "I don't know, either. Just because certain knights of any troupe have reached a certain rank doesn't mean they make good window-dressing at a ball or anything outside military ceremony, really." He shrugged a little and reached to begin cutting the bread. "I don't mind the social activities, but certain of my comrades definitely did not do well. Nor our captain for that matter."

"Good soldiers are judged on the battlefield, not when posed as living coats of armor", Seed looked like anything but someone who would enjoy such formalities. He was scruffy, his hair pulled back, wearing the same plain black tunic and pants. The only impeccable part of him was his sword and scabbard. "I hated having to serve in ceremonies. I remember falling asleep once, even though Culgan tried to elbow me. When you spend all night walking the parapets, it's awfully hard to stay awake standing in one spot."

"You didn't," Percival laughed. "You weren't in a full suit of armor, were you? I have caught more than one knight sleeping under his helm, it's a good thing one smart rap on the side will ring his ears like an alarm bell." He held out the bread basket to Seed, allowing him to have first choice of a slice of the herb bread.

"Of course I did", Seed laughed in turn, "And I was found out rather fast, since we have to keep our visors up... I got such a tongue-lashing back then!" He reached out and took the crusty end of the loaf, his favorite piece. "Once I got promoted high enough, I just slept wherever and whenever I wanted. That's one of the perks of being a general."

"In the same sense that being one of the Mighty Knights of Zexen allows me to drink on duty when no one is the wiser." Percival took a particularly thick slab of bread himself and flopped it on the side of the bowl to compliment the stew which he now began to serve them both. "Actually, there is a lot I can get away with here that I can't at Brass Castle. Even with a second commander giving me duty, now."

"That's why I loved being sent out with my men so much. Away from court, I was my own master, and I didn't have to perform like a trained poodle", Seed caught his bowl in both hands and laid it in front of him on the table. "If you ask me, all those diplomats didn't have as much heart, all of them put together, as one of my squires."

Percival shook his head in complete understanding. "They rarely do. Part of the reason I had little trouble falling in with the Grasslanders when we allied, I think - they all had a reason to be fighting, survival and honor were more important to them than someone else handing them orders. Of course," he added with a grin as he picked up his glass for a sip, "it's easier to say such things about allies than enemies. When they're enemies, that's all just so much frustration."

"If there's one thing I learned here, it's that sometimes we're the same on both sides of a war. It's sobering, and it's bloody annoying, too... it's a lot easier to fight when you hate your enemy." Seed speared a mushroom, and tasted it. "That's actually good!"

"I should hope it is," Percival said slyly. "I did my best, after all." He started in on his dinner as well, pleased that it came out just right, rich and flavorful. "That's true. Though, it also makes it much harder to work together when you know, deep down, that it's the right thing to do. That it's the only way to survive - then, you have to put that hatred behind you." He sighed a little. "So many of our men didn't want to do that, until Sir Hugo made it clear that if we didn't, we were all going to die under the axes of the Harmonians. Barbarians and ironheads alike."

"That's probably the smart thing to do. Highland stood tall to the end, on her own, even when her allies left her." Seed dipped his bread in the gravy and took a mouthful, obviously enjoying the meal, "And we lost. But we lost with our honor intact. But to think I got drunk with a Matilda Knight after coming here... the world doesn't make sense anymore."

Percival decided not to get into a debate on the nature of honor with Seed, he didn't want the fine dinner spoiled too quickly by angry voices. The thought of Seed and Camus getting drunk together made him laugh. "The question is, did you get drunk with him or simply near him? I wouldn't have taken Sir Camus as the type to get plastered, but then, we haven't spoken at length in quite a while."

"As much as I'd like to say I got drunk near him, I vaguely remember singing Highland drinking songs with him while climbing on a table..." Seed laughed at himself as much as he was laughing at the situation, "In retrospect, not one of my smartest moments... but at least we did manage to stumble back to my room... I'm amazed I remembered where it was." He took a drink of wine before he continued: "What can be worse than passing out with a Matildan?"

"Oh, my." Fortunately, Percival had been around the knighthood long enough not to be offended by a lot of ideas. Seed's story only made him chuckle again. "I'm pretty sure I can think of a few worse things, starting with people you wouldn't want to wake up next to. It has quite honestly been a very long time since I got drunk enough to be surprised in the morning, I'll say."

"Well, I don't remember doing worse than a Matilda Knight..." Seed pondered that question for a short while, then shrugged, digging in his stew for a nice juicy piece of meat. "Although there was this one time when I overshot my tent and ended up in the next one over..."

That finally did make Percival blush, though he coughed and hid it behind a sip of wine. "I would do just about anything in exchange for you not finishing that story," he tried to chuckle, becoming more interested in the bread for a minute. "Though I'm sure the embarrassment would be more yours than mine. Mm...with a heavy meal like this, I will sleep well tonight, I think."

"Well I know when my stories aren't wanted!" Seed quipped when he saw Percival's embarassed expression. "The ending isn't nearly as funny as the beginning anyway. You're a knight, I can't believe you've never done something incredibly stupid in all those years... "

"Hmm..." Percival tore a piece off of his slab of bread and ate it plain, thinking. "Perhaps in my days as a squire, but generally, my level of stupid ends well before 'incredible.' The worst I've done lately is...hm, perhaps drinking too much last May Day, at the festival in Iksay. But that's more pathetic than anything, really."

"You don't know what you're missing", answered Seed wisely, as if he was talking about something of great importance, and not drunken highjinx in the army. "This stew really is great. My cooking's just serviceable, I never really bothered to learn. My mother would've said I didn't need to, that I should just find a nice country girl to marry, but I never bothered with that either."

Percival smiled genuinely. "Thank you. It's one thing to hone your skill on your own, but cooking, like art, can't be appreciated by the maker. Only by someone else." He went back to his stew as well, relaxing a bit. "Believe me, being able to cook is not a reason to stop searching for that country girl to marry, according to my mother."

"Your mother's like that too? Sometimes I wonder if my dream of joining the army wasn't an attempt to avoid my mother's constant attempts at match-making. But then, I was her only son..." He pushed his plate back towards the pot, and winked, silently asking for another helping.

Chuckling under his breath, Percival set down his fork and obliged, making sure to add another slab of bread along with the stew. "Same here. Only child, in fact. She insists that she only wants me to be happy, but I sense the underlying suggestion in all her 'fair knight's that now that I have a surname, perhaps I should think about passing it on." He returned to his dinner, chasing mushrooms around the bottom of his bowl. "I didn't become a knight to be the one who charms fair maidens, I did it to protect the people of Zexen. Fairy tales be damned."

"An only child? I can only imagine..." Seed slid his plate back in front of him, thoughtfully chewing a piece of meat as he pictured his own mother sending him off to the army, crying in her dish towel. "My mother was relentless... and I don't even have a last name to pass on... Culgan used to write all my letters to her, because I didn't want to hear about some village girl filling out nicely."

Percival gestured with his fork a little while he traded stories. "What, she didn't expect you might meet someone of higher station while in the cities and marry up? Perhaps into money? Don't get me wrong, I love my mother, and she does her best to not harp on me, but..." He shook his head warily. "I can see it when she looks at me, whenever I visit. She expected me to meet someone in the years I was away, and whenever I don't bring someone home with me, there's that little shade of disappointment in her face..."

Seed burst out laughing, leaning back in his chair. "Did you take a good look at me? Not even a mother could hope that I'd marry up."

"Well," Percival said as diplomatically as he could, "upon first glance anyone would notice that you're not ugly, but I suppose once they got to know you, well..." He grinned helplessly. "I suppose there are few women of higher status who could appreciate your...erm, sense of humor."

One of Seed's eyebrows shot up. "You know, if you hadn't gone to the trouble of cooking this dinner I'd have thought you were insulting me..." He leaned forward, and pointed his knife towards Percival playfully. "I sure as hell opened myself up for that one... although I just meant to say I'm not very presentable in high society."

Percival held up a hand in caution. "My mistake. I didn't mean to, I was only trying to follow your line of self-deprecation. I suppose the proper response would have been, 'oh, no, Seed, any woman would want to fall at your feet!' but..." He grinned widely. "You did leave yourself open, yes. It doesn't matter." He fished for stray bits of beef and mushrooms still in the pot. "You wouldn't want a high society woman anyway. You're better off."

Percival held up a hand in caution. "My mistake. I didn't mean to, I was only trying to follow your line of self-deprecation. I suppose the proper response would have been, 'oh, no, Seed, any woman would want to fall at your feet!' but..." He grinned widely. "You did leave yourself open, yes. It doesn't matter." He fished for stray bits of beef and mushrooms still in the pot. "You wouldn't want a high society woman anyway. You're better off."

Seed shrugged. "I don't want a woman anyway. They just get in the way and dull your sword." Watching Percival fishing for stray bits of meat, he quickly darted out with his fork to catch one before the other knight did. "I'm all there's left of my blood family, but to me, Highland and its people are my real family."

Percival raised an eyebrow at the unspoken challenge, and made sure to snap the next piece up before Seed could spot it. "I've never been really interested in settling down, either. People continually needle me about it, but I'm no closer than I was five or even ten years ago. I think that ought to make it clear that it's not a case of simply not finding the 'right one' yet." He made sure to eat that chunk of beef with an extra "mm" to savor, obviously taunting.

"I don't see the difference between loving a woman and loving a country. You can dedicate your life to either." Seed leaned forward at Percival's unsporken challenge, and quickly aimed for a mushroom that bobbed to the top of the thick brown sauce. He speared, and it fell back with a 'plop' sound. "Bloody mushroom!"

Tipping his head back in a laugh, Percival wagged his fork scoldingly. "That's what happens when you're too eager." He didn't hunt out the bloody mushroom, though, leaving it for Seed while he fished around for anything else swimming in the leftover gravy. "For once, I agree with you on that. One's life isn't lacking anything if they choose not to have that dedication to a partner or family, really."

Finally spearing the offending mushroom, Seed lifted his fork, triumphant. "I got the bugger!" He chewed on it thoughtfully for a while, it really was pleasant to eat good food in the company of someone who, while he sometimes annoyed Seed with his apathy, more often than not understood him so well. "But you need to feel dedication for something though, or your life'll feel pretty pointless."

"Well..." More casual fork-waving. "Since returning from my little journey, and asking to become a castle guard, I have felt pretty good about my choices. Budehuc may be small, but it's a place worth defending, and I don't mind making it my dedication. The people who live here are worth it." Percival smiled warmly, sitting back and taking with him one of the last pieces of bread, with which to sop up the gravy.

Seed suddenly looked very grim, his fork forgotten halfway up to his mouth. "I understand. That's why... I can't stay here."

Percival blinked. "What? You're...going away?" His brow furrowed. "On a journey, or for good?"

The sound of his fork hitting the plate sounded deafening to his own ears and Seed suddenly seemed fascinated by the patterns of the leftover gravy. "I have to return home. This... isn't where I belong."

Percival sat forward again, resting an elbow on the table, though he still nibbled at the piece of bread. "Even though some twenty years or so have passed? It may not be home anymore. But...for what it's worth, I understand." He smiled very slightly. "I've thought some, about the talks we've had, and things you say with such passion. It seems to me, you won't ever be satisfied until you've seen your homeland with your own eyes in the here and now."

"I feel this pull, here", Seed taps the left side of his chest, over his heart, "This pull that I can't forget or drown in ale. I need to see her again, Percival. She calls to me. I don't know what I'll do once I get there, but I need to get there."

Percival nodded slowly, still wearing that smile. "Then, I shall wish you a safe journey, and hope that we might meet again even if there's no guarantee. If not, I hope you find what you're looking for. I sincerely do, as a man who is also seeking." He gestured over the ruins of their meal. "At least we got the chance to have dinner, before you went."

"And a fine dinner it was! Is this a hint it's over already, I was hoping the cook was also a pastry chef!" After those cheerful words, Seed took a deep breath, closing his eyes, then opened them slowly again, staring straight at Percival, as if he was the only thing in the room. "I don't plan on coming back. But whether or not I do, I hope that you'll find what you're looking for, my friend."

"Ah, well, I am not quite as good at desserts as I am the rest of the meal, but I did manage to pop next door to Watari's for something sweet," Percival smirked. "Which would go well with another glass of wine, I think." He held Seed's gaze for a moment, and then smiled an even wider, warmer smile. "Thank you. It may take a lifetime, but that's what journeys are for. I will pray the Goddess sees you safely to Highland," he added as he slid out of his chair, setting aside his napkin so he could go and fetch dessert.

"I intend to arrive there safely, Goddess or not", Seed called at Percival's retreating form, "If death couldn't stop me, I doubt anything else will."

The parting shot made Percival chuckle under his breath as he passed through the door. He went to the icebox and retrieved the chocolate-raspberry torte from the bakery and returned to the table, delivering it with a flourish. "I heard that," he smirked. "You do have a point. Still, it doesn't hurt to make a few well-wishes and prayers." He sat back down and plucked up an unused knife. "Now, how big a piece do you want?"

"Don't hold back!", Seed laughed, tucking stray strands of crimson hair behind his ears, "I'm sure we can each finish half. How often do you get to eat dessert like that? I used to feel lucky when I rustled up an old apple back during the war."

"We probably can," Percival laughed, deciding to do as ordered and just slice the thing in half. "You see, Seed, this is the benefit of no longer being at war. We don't have to worry about whether we'll ever have the chance to enjoy luxuries, they're all waiting right here for us to take." He tilted his head slightly as if to think. "I consider it like this. We've paid our dues. Now it's time to enjoy life, because you never know when the next war will turn everything upside down again."

"But I enjoyed that apple. That old apple was so beautiful to me, in the middle of the cold and the desolation." Seed dug into his torte with gusto. "That apple, it's just like us soldiers. We're so ordinary in peace time, the people we swore to protect don't even notice we exist, but when it's war.... when it's war we become something else."

Percival breathed a soft sigh before taking a bite of his dessert. "Have you ever thought to become a poet, Seed? You have such a way with words." His smile assured that he wasn't mocking. "So true, though. I suppose I don't mind. I'll be content being ordinary around here until I'm called to duty. No one really knows when that'll happen, even at a place like this."

A frown, then an answer, "I don't like to write. Culgan used to take care of letters to send back home. Somehow no one every wondered why my handwriting suddenly changed."

"Still..." Percival shrugged a little, popping a raspberry into his mouth. "If you were to stand up before my army and give the speech before riding to battle, I would probably follow you to the ends of the earth. You could always dictate." He giggled a little at a thought. "That's it, dictate your memoirs."

"Speeches before a battle, that I can do. I've given more than my share, to herald victory, and to send my men towards their death. Those, I didn't enjoy as much. But it's better to die with enthusiasm, than to trudge on the battlefield waiting for the inevitable." Seed cut out a piece of cake with the side of his fork, enjoying the feel of the metal slicing through the dessert like well sharpened steel though the enemy. "I've stared Death in the face, she's not nearly as beautiful as they say."

"I would imagine not." Percival had not personally come that close to death, so far in his career. Serious injuries, yes, but never the cold realization that his life was about to be over. "It's always been the duty of our captain to make the speeches, I've only been on the side listening. Lady Chris rarely gets wordy about it...Captain Galahad was always a bit more robust in that department." He closed his eyes briefly in a gesture of remembrance before attacking his torte.

"Culgan was the wordy one", Seed explained, thinking of times past, huddled under the covers in the utilitarian Highland tent while his friend was hunched over a table, writing furiously, correcting himself, sometimes reading passages under his breath. "He'd work on his speeches for hours, to make sure they were perfect. I'm more of the improvising kind..."

"Whatever rolls off your tongue, eh?" Percival smiled with a fork-ful of chocolate torte waiting for him. "Well, you do seem to have a flair for speaking from the heart. I mean that sincerely, Seed."

Seed actually looked embarassed at Percival's words."It's easy to find words when you're preparing to fight. Just simple words for simple soldiers."

Percival smiled in amusement. Seed's humility was so honest, it wasn't an air at all like he was used to from others. "To you, maybe, but you seem to have a knack for picking the right ones. You should be proud, it's a talent not everyone can say they have."

Seed waved off Percival, laughing, and went back to his torte, hoping the topic would just shift. Obviously, Percival had never heard someone deliver a really rousing speech, one like Culgan did, or he would realize that Seed was a soldier, not an orator. "And you have a knack for picking pastry", he stated, his tone light.

"Well..." Percival beamed in delight. "Just because I can't create something this fantastic myself doesn't mean I don't know what's good. I think I'll leave the desserts to Sir Watari, and stick to my cooking."

"Sticking to what you're good at is a good life strategy. That's why I made my career in the army. You couldn't see me being a pastry chef either!" Seed joked, as he thouroughly enjoyed his dessert.

Percival gestured with his wine glass instead of his fork this time. "Yet it takes people like us to give the pastry chefs their business and inspire them to outdo themselves every time," he said wisely. "I'd say it's a fair trade."

"I'd think people like us would most likely encourage potato farmers! I remember sitting on a bucket peeling potatoes for hours when I was a recruit." Seed drained what was left of his wine in one gulp -he'd never been fond of wine, not like Culgan was, and really didn't appreciate all of the nuances that his friend kept on talking to him about. "I remember swearing I'd never eat potatoes again. But you can imagine how well that worked out."

The knight pointed subtly at the dregs of the beef stew. "There were potatoes in there, for example."

Seed jauntily pointed his fork at Percival. "Ex-ac-tly."

"For that you can at least blame me." Percival pressed his fork around the plate to capture all of the remaining crumbs of chocolate and raspberry filling.

"At least I'll have a good meal in my stomach when I head out tomorrow morning. This won't be an easy trip. If it was only Camus and I, we'd ride all day and sleep in the field, but Queen Jillia wants to come as well..." Seed frowned, and put his fork down next to his empty plate. "Travelling with women makes everything more complicated."

"Ahh, I see." Percival raised an eyebrow. "Sir Camus is going with you? I see. I regret that he and I never really had much time to talk, he always seemed like a decent fellow I could get along with." He likewise set down his fork and took up his wine. "Mm. For that, I don't envy you. I have escorted Councilors' wives in days past, and it was always such a pain."

"Camus is heading towards Matilda, and it's on the way", Seed explained, glossing over the fact that Camus re-iterated that morning that he would come all the way to Highland. "It's less dangerous to travel in pairs because you can take turns sleeping. Not that I need much sleep, really... as long as I'm awake enough to hoist myself on the saddle in the morning..."

"Ah. Well, I will wish both of you a safe journey, then." He raised his glass with its last swallow of wine in acknowledgement. "Particularly with a non-military passenger along. Do be safe. The troll dragons on the Plain Amur can be particularly persistent."

"I'll keep her safe or die trying." Seed concluded, a grim look on his face. "And those aren't idle words. I've done it once, I can do it again."

Percival's smile faded only slightly. "I hope it doesn't come to that, though. May your journey be far less eventful than that." He tossed back the rest of his wine and set his glass aside. "Well. Your final verdict on my talents, sir?"

Seed visibly relaxed. "Good food. Good price. I'd patronize this establishment again."

"Excellent." Percival folded his arms on the table in front of him. "It's a useful hobby to have. Winning friends, charming women, and ensuring full stomachs every time."

"I win people over with my quick wit, my knowledge of the finer things in life and my mellow personality", Seed quipped, dropping his chin in the palm of his hand, his elbow posted squarely on the edge of the table.

As expected, Percival laughed. "And how is that working out for you?"

"Well, it could be worse", Seed answered reasonably, "You're here, aren't you?"

"I am." Percival lowered his eyes slightly. "I have to say, this has been a pleasant evening. I'm glad you took me up on my offer...even if the friend I've made is about to turn around and leave."

"That's the military life. Garrisons are always on the move, you never know how long you'll see someone, where they'll be sent next, or even if they will be alive the next day." Seed stands up, dropping his napkin on the table next to his plate. "Thank you for the meal, at least I'll have one good memory of this dump to bring with me."

Percival rose along with him, though he was going to be staying at the cafe to clean up his mess. "You're welcome. It was my pleasure." He placed a hand on his chest and bowed very slightly.

"So formal, Percival!" Chuckling, Seed thumped his chest, and bowed sharply, strands of crimsom hair slipping out of their restraint. "Lang may yer lum reek."

"What my what?" Percival giggled. "Let me guess - an old Highland blessing of some kind. Or a curse."

"Long may your chimney smoke", Seed translates, still smiling, "Well wishes from Highland."

"I will take it, then." Percival clapped him on the shoulder. "Go on, I'm sure you have preparations to make. Perhaps I'll drop by to say farewell in the morning, but right now, I have a kitchen to clean."