Even in the depths of sleep, Sothers can hear his name being called. He wriggles deeper into his sheets, hiding from the inevitable wake-up call he's about to get. He wonders what on earth the King could want... Then decides he'd rather not know.There's a rustle at the door, a thud and then - bang! The door's open and a gangly figure bounds into his chambers. "Sothers! Sothers! Sothers!" he 'whispers', and Sothers reluctantly opens an eye. "What is it sire?" Charles' eyes are shining and he waves his hands excitedly. "It's snowed! Come on, get up!" he tugs at Sothers' sheets. "Sire!" he yelps, grasping at the covers. "Must you really wake me, just to tell me about the weather?" he says, pulling himself from the bed. "Yes! Because you and I are going outside! Come on, get dressed; cook's done us some tea to take!" he smiles broadly at Sothers. "It'll be simply marvellous!" Sothers sighs, opening his wardrobe's doors. Charles is literally bouncing by his side as he pulls out an outfit. "No, that one, it's lovely and warm! Now come on! We have to go!" Sothers looks at him. "Sire, I'm capable of dressing myself. Could you possibly step outside for a minute?" The king laughs, bounds over to the door, and with a smile, tells him "You've got five!" before heading for the palace doors.
That's how Sothers ends up standing in the freezing cold, hands clasped tight around his mug of tea. He's bundled up in his cloak, thankful for his drink. The snow is thick on the ground, well and truly burying his shoes. He stamps his feet to keep warm, and looks for the king, who's somewhere in the vast gardens. He follows the trail of footprints with his eyes, and they lead up to one of the grand trees. Then stop. He sighs; he should probably go and see to him. He takes off down the path, careful not to slip on the perilous ground. "Your majesty?" He calls. A few seconds later a voice floats back. "One second Sotherby!" There's some rustling, above him and a snap. Sothers looks up... to find Charles perched precariously on a branch in the tree (He should be shocked, but this is Charles, after all) "Watch out!" he calls and with surprising grace, leaps from the tree to land neatly next to Sothers. "What on earth are you doing, sire?" He asks, and Charles waves some branches at him. "Getting these! Come on!" he runs off, somehow avoiding landing head first in the snow. He skids to a stop at the top of the path, and turns to call Sothers up. He makes his way up the path again, much more careful than Charles. He can see the king crouched over something, and hear him singing to himself. A smile tugs at Sothers lips, seeing Charles so excited. It gets harder to hide the grin when Charles spins around, eyes shining and a smile lighting his face. His nose has gone a light pink from the cold, making him look more a child than ever. He tugs at Sothers arm "Are you ready?" Sothers chuckles. "For what, exactly?" "Snowmen!"
Charles points to the ball of snow he's begun rolling, and the twigs on the floor. "It'll be wonderful! Here, hold this," he says, handing Sothers a carrot. While Sothers watches, he rolls the ball around, until it reaches waist hight. Then he starts on another one, and Sothers almost bursts out laughing, watching him struggle to put it on top of the larger one. "Would you like some help, sire?" he asks, smiling fondly at the kings back. He turns his head, face screwed up with concentration. "No! I can do this - I... Just... have to - aha!" with a flourish, he finally manages to get it on. Sothers bites back his smile as the king gets to his knees and goes hunting for pebbles. There's a small "Wonderful!" when he finds some, and he comes back grinning as he fashions them into eyes and buttons. He grabs the twigs from the ground and is carefully (not a word Sothers though he'd ever use to describe Charles) putting them into place, when slowly but surely, snow begins to fall again. Finally, Charles removes his hat and places it on the rather grand snowman. Then he makes a full circle of the snowman, stopping by Sothers. Some of the snow has landed in his hair, and there are a few flakes that cling to his eyelashes.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
FILL: Charles II/Sotherby (1a/1)
Date: 2011-12-20 10:29 pm (UTC)"Sothers! Sothers! Sothers!" he 'whispers', and Sothers reluctantly opens an eye.
"What is it sire?" Charles' eyes are shining and he waves his hands excitedly.
"It's snowed! Come on, get up!" he tugs at Sothers' sheets.
"Sire!" he yelps, grasping at the covers.
"Must you really wake me, just to tell me about the weather?" he says, pulling himself from the bed.
"Yes! Because you and I are going outside! Come on, get dressed; cook's done us some tea to take!" he smiles broadly at Sothers.
"It'll be simply marvellous!" Sothers sighs, opening his wardrobe's doors. Charles is literally bouncing by his side as he pulls out an outfit.
"No, that one, it's lovely and warm! Now come on! We have to go!" Sothers looks at him.
"Sire, I'm capable of dressing myself. Could you possibly step outside for a minute?" The king laughs, bounds over to the door, and with a smile, tells him "You've got five!" before heading for the palace doors.
That's how Sothers ends up standing in the freezing cold, hands clasped tight around his mug of tea. He's bundled up in his cloak, thankful for his drink. The snow is thick on the ground, well and truly burying his shoes. He stamps his feet to keep warm, and looks for the king, who's somewhere in the vast gardens. He follows the trail of footprints with his eyes, and they lead up to one of the grand trees. Then stop. He sighs; he should probably go and see to him. He takes off down the path, careful not to slip on the perilous ground.
"Your majesty?" He calls. A few seconds later a voice floats back.
"One second Sotherby!" There's some rustling, above him and a snap. Sothers looks up... to find Charles perched precariously on a branch in the tree (He should be shocked, but this is Charles, after all)
"Watch out!" he calls and with surprising grace, leaps from the tree to land neatly next to Sothers.
"What on earth are you doing, sire?" He asks, and Charles waves some branches at him.
"Getting these! Come on!" he runs off, somehow avoiding landing head first in the snow. He skids to a stop at the top of the path, and turns to call Sothers up. He makes his way up the path again, much more careful than Charles. He can see the king crouched over something, and hear him singing to himself. A smile tugs at Sothers lips, seeing Charles so excited. It gets harder to hide the grin when Charles spins around, eyes shining and a smile lighting his face. His nose has gone a light pink from the cold, making him look more a child than ever. He tugs at Sothers arm
"Are you ready?" Sothers chuckles.
"For what, exactly?"
"Snowmen!"
Charles points to the ball of snow he's begun rolling, and the twigs on the floor.
"It'll be wonderful! Here, hold this," he says, handing Sothers a carrot. While Sothers watches, he rolls the ball around, until it reaches waist hight. Then he starts on another one, and Sothers almost bursts out laughing, watching him struggle to put it on top of the larger one.
"Would you like some help, sire?" he asks, smiling fondly at the kings back. He turns his head, face screwed up with concentration.
"No! I can do this - I... Just... have to - aha!" with a flourish, he finally manages to get it on. Sothers bites back his smile as the king gets to his knees and goes hunting for pebbles. There's a small "Wonderful!" when he finds some, and he comes back grinning as he fashions them into eyes and buttons. He grabs the twigs from the ground and is carefully (not a word Sothers though he'd ever use to describe Charles) putting them into place, when slowly but surely, snow begins to fall again. Finally, Charles removes his hat and places it on the rather grand snowman. Then he makes a full circle of the snowman, stopping by Sothers. Some of the snow has landed in his hair, and there are a few flakes that cling to his eyelashes.