September 5th, 2004
|fae_ewan||07:27 pm - Thoughts after the rescue . . .|
After seeing the group safely back to David and Karl's house, giving an extra 'lift' to Monica to get her to the shop and flat, there isn't much else for Ewan to do . . . except go home. Underhill. Which suddenly doesn't feel like home again, after seeing everyone's faces again--Liv, dear Liv--ooh, which reminds him--he needs to see if she required any help springing her trouble magnet of a man--err-kelpie. Elijah, little lustful pup. It was always good seeing him. Monica, of course, but she was fae; he could really find her anytime. And the other wolf Karl, and the dragon, who Ewan was quite proud that he'd had a few civil words with. Even been complimented. And . . . but then he couldn't really miss someone he'd just met, could he?
Ohhhh but--he'd been lovely. Lovely of course as a gryphon because gryphons were lovely anyway all that strength and sleek feathers--marvelous feathers! (Ewan wondered if he could ask to keep one) The noble beak. And claws. Eeep. Ewan could just imagine them tearing into something. But even more lovely . . . had been the man. Weak, but that had only been because of the imprisonment, of course, and even in his weakness so strong; it had only made Ewan feel the more for him .. . no. He couldn't do that. Not again so soon! But Hugh was nothing like Paris--noble, yes--they had that in common, and that sense of purity about them. But wise where Paris had been innocent, very very manly--or was that beastly? Where Paris had been childlike, young. There was such a presence to hugh, a sense of great ages.
The gardens were already turning colors in his father's courtyard. Fall harvest festivals attended by all the fae of the forest. But Ewan just didnt have any interest. All his thoughts were back in Wellington. How could he go back so soon? He'd sold his flat, his shoppe. But Monica could probably hire him back, in a very odd reveral of roles. Sleeping with her might be a little awkward though. He'd have to figure out where he could sleep. Hmm.
Realizing that he was already making plans, how to do it, Ewan sighs, poking at his plate--he hasn't been eating much since he got back either. His father gives him a look across the table, the longsuffering one, the one that says 'I love you but sometimes you drive me insane, boy.'
"You're in love again, aren't you."
"Am not!" Ewan protests, pushing his plate back. Honeycakes or not, he just can't eat. He humphs and crosses his arms, wings fluttering fast, betraying his agitation. "I don't even know the bloke."
His father rolls his eyes. "Are you going to rectify that then, or pester me with you moaning and sighs?"
Ewan pouts, thinking he really hasn't been doing THAT much sighing. But Father has a point. He can't very well find any peace, until he knows at least. It will be yet another letdown, he's sure. A gryphon. Ha. Why doe he always fall for the impossible ones?
"All right." He fidgets, not feeling a day over a century. "But I rather squandered a lot of my posessions."
His father rolls his eyes, and hands him a silver coin. "Auction that. You'll be surprised what those old things go for." He smiles, just a little. "Especially with an extra enchantment on them."
He's going back to Wellington.
Current Mood: intimidated