#ra excerpts

[nynaeve-md]

As they stepped up into the cabin, she became aware of a familiar smell. Familiar, but now strangely attractive. It was the rich aroma of fresh coffee. While she had completed the course, Will had returned to the cabin and brewed a pot. He sat her down now and poured a cup, placing it before her. ‘I don’t drink coffee,’ she said automatically. But the enticing smell was filling her nostrils and she wondered if maybe she was mistaken. Will added milk and several spoonfuls of dark honey, stirred it and handed it to her. ‘Drink it,’ he ordered and she wondered briefly if this was a further part of her punishment. Then she sipped at the hot, sweet drink, feeling it course through her weary body, easing her throbbing head, revitalising her, refreshing her with its wonderful, restorative aroma and rich taste. She sipped again, deeper this time, then put her head back and sighed appreciatively. ‘Maybe I could get used to this,’ she said. Will raised one eyebrow. ‘There might be hope for you yet,’ he said.

John Flanagan, The Royal Ranger

[nynaeve-md]

Will pushed his empty plate away and leaned back in his chair, feeling that delightfully uncomfortable sensation that comes when you eat just a little too much of something really delicious. Lady Pauline smiled fondly at the young man. ‘Would you like extras, Will? There’s plnty left.’ He patted his stomach, surprised to find that it seemed tighter than normal, as if it were straining at his clothes from the inside. ‘Thank you, no, Pauline,’ he said. ‘I’ve already had seconds.’ ‘You’ve already had fourths,’ Halt commented.

John Flanagan, Lost Stories – Purple Prose

[nynaeve-md]

Finally, the wedding party processed to the Great Hall, where tables were set for the banquet. Arald eyed the glistening table setting and decorations. ‘This is the best part of any wedding day for me!’ he said enthusiastically to Lady Sandra. She rolled her eyes. ‘This is the best part of any day for you,’ she replied drolly. He considered the statement, then nodded emphatically. ‘I can’t deny it,’ he said and she smiled, knowing why she loved him.

John Flanagan, Lost Stories – The Bridal Dance

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Horace coughed gently. He had more important matters on his mind than a surly insult from Orman’s attendant. ‘There was some mention of food?’ he reminded them. Horace always did have a good grasp of priorities.

John Flanagan, The Siege of Macindaw

[nynaeve-md]

This,’ said George, standing above them and spreading arms wide as he addressed an imaginary court, ‘cannot be described as a mere pie, your honour. To describe this as a pie would be a gross miscarriage of justice, the like of which this court has never been seen before!’ Will turned to Alyss. ‘How long has he been like this?’ he asked. She smiled. ‘They all get this way with a few months’ legal training. These days, the main problem with George is getting him to shut up.’ ‘Oh, sit down George,’ said Jenny, blushing at his praise but delighted nonetheless. ‘You are a complete idiot.’ ‘Perhaps, fair miss. But it is the sheer magic of these works of art that has turned my brain. These are not pies, these are symphonies!’ He raised his remaining half pie to the others in a mock toast. ‘I give you… Miss Jenny’s symphony of pies!’

John Flanagan, The Ruins of Gorlan  

[nynaeve-md]

He reached across the table and poured himself another mug of black coffee. Like Will, he drank it generously laced with honey, a habit he had learnt from the Ranger when they have travelled to Celtica years previously. Malcolm winced slightly as he watched. Pleasant young man or not, he thought, if he and his friend keep drinking coffee at this rate, I’m going to run out.

John Flanagan, The Siege of Macindaw

[nynaeve-md]

‘I like my name,’ Horace said, a little smugly. ‘Black Bear. It describes my prodigious strength and my mighty prowess in battle.’ Alyss might have let him get away with it, if it hadn’t been for his tactless remark about Will’s cloak flapping like a butterfly’s wings. ‘Not quite,’ she said. ‘I asked Mikeru where the name came from. He said it described your prodigious appetite and your mighty prowess at the dinner table. It seems that when you were escaping through the mountains, Shigeru and his followers were worried you’d eat all the supplies by yourself.’'

John Flanagan, The Emperor of Nihon-Ja

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Sean looked doubtful. ‘We don’t drink coffee here. The King-' he corrected himself ‘-Uncle Ferris doesn’t like it.” ‘Might have known,’ Halt said, scowling. He looked at Horace and curled his lip in distaste. Horace couldn’t help grinning. Halt seemed more antagonised by the fact that his brother didn’t drink coffee than by the fact he had stolen the throne from him. Typical, the young warrior thought.

John Flanagan, The Kings of Clonmel