@vranik 's adder challenges tolouse to a game, but the stakes are… interesting.
SHE HADN'T HAD THE EASIEST TIME SETTLING IN , not that that is particularly surprising. tolouse had kept his cards close to his chest , and thank god he's had the foresight to do so. no one here knows the full extent of her skills , the things she's done for her former lord— or in sigismund's service. žižka , perhaps , has enough experience to guess— but he does not prod. after a long talk with the man , it rather seems that tolouse is allowed to earn their keep in this merry band of misfits. which does not mean they are being trusted.
and despite the hardships of leaving behind a life well-known and , against all odds , often beloved— tolouse is thankful for not having a part in this war any longer. not as they were , in any case. and if they need not , they would never extract a word of information , nor the whisper of a secret , ever again. in the devil's den he sings && he makes music. he mends both skin and cloth , && has entertained henry once or twice— teaching him the art of moving silently , or how to be so utterly inconspicuous that one might as well be invisible.
but not all avoid him in varying degrees of skillful. he often talks to katherine , sitting in the grass upon the rolling hills and trading experiences. peace , for both of them. she is quite able to read both parts of his serpentine tongue , her smile telling as much. adder had been another not really cowed or offended by her presence— instead curious and ever ambling on without pretense or care. he makes her laugh with such ease that tolouse rather feels like sixteen again , giggling at the dumb jokes of a baker's son down by the creek , already knowing even then that she's in love. now it isn't quite the same , and parts of her have jaded , sharpened , sweetened. but she's infatuated && plays into his antics.
‘ ah , wait , wait. did i catch that right? you simply have to stop swallowing words in the hopes i say yes to anything you suggest. ’ tolouse grouses , his voice the musical twitter of birdsong. they are sitting outside , in the courtyard , and soaking up the afternoon sun. tolouse has divested himself of the buoyant , intricate jester's garb he calls his own— clad merely in a checkered , striped and hellishly patterned hose and simple tunic. lit by the slowly setting sun , the soft swirls of his curls are set ablaze in gold and flame— a little tousled and askew from the hood he's worn. ‘ so were you saying strip dice or, ’ she lifts her finger for emphasis , mischief dancing in green eyes ‘ a secret traded for every win? ’ crossing his ankles daintily on the stool next to him , tolouse flexes and wiggles his toes , lips splitting into a grin.
