It is quite all right. I am sorry that you're ill, and I will come and sit with you still, if you like, if you are not so opposed to a stranger trying to make friends.
I am afraid there is nothing like this in my own world. Horses and books and quills, but nothing so immediate. It is like magic, to me.
It's not quite a friends-keeping-vigil-round-my-bedside kind of sickness. Not right now, anyway. Although if you wouldn't mind switching to voice? My eyes aren't cut out for the text on these things.
I'll let you in on a secret. I live in a technological age and this whole thing is like magic to me, too.
[Prior hits video too, because fair's fair. He's sitting at a counter, with a mug of something hot in front of him, clasped between both hands. He looks sick, but in the gradually worn down way someone with a long illness does. Not red-eyed and gasping like someone with a newly developed bout of flu.]
But no, that is not so! You must simply plan it properly. A good meal, but light, with a goodly amount of water, and then you begin.
[A pause, but she's holding up her fingers.]
You must start with a walk, and then you lay back and look at the stars, and you must tell a tale or two. And then you must find a patch of moonlight, but only the perfect one, and a tree to climb to see if you can speak to the stars, and another walk will finally lead to you dawn. You will be surprised at how quickly the time will pass, if you have the right company!
Oh, and it is best done in winter, when the weather is so bracing you will not like to wish to sleep in it.
When I used to stay out all night, it was to dance. Sometimes in the highest heels imaginable. Sometimes barefoot at a friend's rooftop apartment. And we might try to speak to the stars afterwards, because our heads were spinning and the music didn't stop even after the neighbours made a noise complaint. And we wouldn't have eaten anything before, and would have drunk too much during, and it was beautiful. Your way sounds beautiful too, though, I wish I could come.
Your royal brother? [There's one thing explained. Also: is everyone he meets here intending to hold some claim to royal blood? It's practically the common thing.]
Don't tell me you're a princess too. There's so many of you here, it's like there was a clash over casting at the ren faire.
But it is a queer thing, is it not? How many royals there are. I should think it strange, as most royals are quite useless at any task that does not involve ruling.
It does feel like there could end up with a few too many cooks around here. I'd say they woke up the important folks first, maybe to calm their citizens in their turn, but that wouldn't explain me at all.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Hold on a moment.
Who is this?
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You must excuse me. I do not know how this device works at times.
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[If you know what he means.]
And they're kind of new to me, too. Do you come from a world where they're a whole new technology, or one where there isn't technology at all?
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I am afraid there is nothing like this in my own world. Horses and books and quills, but nothing so immediate. It is like magic, to me.
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I'll let you in on a secret. I live in a technological age and this whole thing is like magic to me, too.
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Can you hear-
Oh! Hullo?
[She has her hair all up in braids, and she's peering into the camera.]
By the Lion's mane, I think I've gone and done it incorrectly. Prior?
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[Prior hits video too, because fair's fair. He's sitting at a counter, with a mug of something hot in front of him, clasped between both hands. He looks sick, but in the gradually worn down way someone with a long illness does. Not red-eyed and gasping like someone with a newly developed bout of flu.]
You're beautiful. And younger than I expected.
[Byerly really.]
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Well, I must say then, you are most handsome as well.
[She's giggling a little. It does make her look young.]
But thank you very much, good sir. How old did my text make you think I was?
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Well, there's a regretfully narrow period where keeping someone up all night's easily achieved. So, something appropriate-
[Cough.]
To that. You just look a little on the younger end of the scale.
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But no, that is not so! You must simply plan it properly. A good meal, but light, with a goodly amount of water, and then you begin.
[A pause, but she's holding up her fingers.]
You must start with a walk, and then you lay back and look at the stars, and you must tell a tale or two. And then you must find a patch of moonlight, but only the perfect one, and a tree to climb to see if you can speak to the stars, and another walk will finally lead to you dawn. You will be surprised at how quickly the time will pass, if you have the right company!
Oh, and it is best done in winter, when the weather is so bracing you will not like to wish to sleep in it.
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By the end of that little spiel Prior's fixed on the screen, the smallest smile catching helplessly at his lips.]
So you and... Byerly, are going to climb trees together? And lay in the moonlight, and try to talk to the stars?
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Well. Yes. Of course.
What else would one do all night? I told him that at home, we hold with the Parliament of Owls, but there are none here, and no court on the besides.
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[To answer that question.]
When I used to stay out all night, it was to dance. Sometimes in the highest heels imaginable. Sometimes barefoot at a friend's rooftop apartment. And we might try to speak to the stars afterwards, because our heads were spinning and the music didn't stop even after the neighbours made a noise complaint. And we wouldn't have eaten anything before, and would have drunk too much during, and it was beautiful. Your way sounds beautiful too, though, I wish I could come.
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[She lights up, then, bright and blazing, her smile something to behold.]
Oh yes, you're most right, of course! I do love to dance, and I would do it all night, if I could persuade a partner.
When you are better, you will. Promise?
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Of course. When I'm better. So tell me about you, Lucy Pevensie, are you brand new here too?
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[She pauses a moment.]
Whatever could I tell you that you may wish to know?
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Don't tell me you're a princess too. There's so many of you here, it's like there was a clash over casting at the ren faire.
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But it is a queer thing, is it not? How many royals there are. I should think it strange, as most royals are quite useless at any task that does not involve ruling.
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[He sounds more uncertain than the smile he tries allows.]
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