Early in the morning, Colin asked Detlef to meet him at the bakery in the evening. That time has approached, and Colin has just finished most of his evening routine--eating supper, cleaning dishes, cleaning the bakery, cleaning himself--and is in the process of lighting the candles when Detlef arrives. He gives a quick glance to confirm it's him.
"Of course," he says brightly, straightening his jacket and closing the door behind him.
"Is everything all right? Did you want to practice anything in particular?" They're clearly alone here, unless someone is hiding in a corner. And if someone is, then they can play it off like he's practicing breads.
Colin hesitates, still not totally sure if this is crazy or not. He lights the last candle and picks up a couple of pieces of paper and pens from the table.
"It's...hard to...well. For this, I need you to sit on the floor."
Detlef strikes the sexy pose and it gets a smile out of Colin. He needed that smile. And the temptation to play along and take this in a whole other direction is...there. But this has to be done. He holds out a piece of paper and a pen.
"Sitting up, I'm afraid," he says apologetically. "I have to sit behind you. Back to back."
At least Colin's smiling again. It had looked fairly dour there for a few moments. Detlef sits up and stretches a little, giving Colin a very curious look.
"So what are we doing? Trust exercises? Drawing cats from memory? I'm going to have to keep asking and doing things that are more ridiculous each time until you fill me in."
Colin maneuvers to sit behind Detlef with his own paper and pen. He takes a deep breath.
"All right. I need you to think of ten things about yourself that I don't know. Some of them must be lies and some must be true. For everything you say, write down whether it's true or false, and keep the list in order. And just write T or L--each has only two pen strokes. And no outrageous lies. Keep everything believable. Or, you can tell truths that sound like lies, but not lies that sound like lies. And don't give any hints."
He swallows, a spike of fear hitting for a moment before he remembers who this is. It's Colin. He's not being questioned by a Shepherd, and it's not like his parental units have suddenly shown up. Detlef takes a breath.
"My littlest sister's name is Leonie, and the other is Maja. My favorite color is pale blue." That's one truth and two lies so far, Leonie and Nele were his sisters, and he loves very dark blue... though it's a little possible Colin knows about the color.
"Um. I need new boots." Two truths, and he continues until he's at six truths and four lies.
Colin focuses more on what he's feeling from Detlef than on what Detlef is actually saying as he writes down what he thinks the answers are. When they are done, Colin releases a breath.
"All right. I've written down what I think the answers are. I couldn't see what you were writing. So..."
He turns around and sits by Detlef, setting their papers side by side. Every single answer matches Detlef's.
Colin heads directly to the stables after talking with Detlef. He makes sure absolutely no one is nearby, nor in the loft, before speaking very softly near Detlef's ear.
"He's safe to tell. Though I should be there when you do, just in case."
"I mean he wouldn't turn you in," Colin clarifies. "He wouldn't turn anyone in. But there's a reason for it that might still make things hard for your relationship, and I'm not the one who should tell you what it is."
A hopeful little smile, as if to keep Detlef from being discouraged.
"I invade peoples' privacy quite enough," Colin sighs. "Please don't make me invade more. I still don't know whether to tell him about me, and what I can't stop doing."
"Do you think I have a chance, at least? And do you want to head over now?" It's that or start letting dread get the better of him until he second-guesses his way out of trying with Faro anymore.
Alternately, what if not going over right away is the better idea? He can never be turned down if he doesn't go, right? Except Colin's walking and Detlef's upright and he doesn't have the chance to think himself out of it.
How does one prepare for cats to invade their house? Especially wet, unhappy cats. It was easy to get ready for the horses, he just put hay down under the overhang in his yard. The cobbler used to keep chickens in a coop fixed to the back of the house, but since it's empty he shoved the rest of the hay in there so Marion and Gregor can get some more out if they want. It isn't a great long-term arrangement but at least they'll have somewhere dry out of the way until the rain lets up and the stables can get repaired.
But the cats. Faro puts his cheapest cloth over his stock and his supplies, or puts away what can't be covered. Nelda's cloak is too precious to him to risk so even though it's meant to draw people in, he folds it up and puts it in the chest at the foot of his bed.
Detlef is supposed to be bringing the cats. Or maybe he's bringing his belongings first, and then they're both going to fetch the cats? Or the cats will just know this is where Detlef's staying? Inviting him to stay was an impulsive decision and Farogil doesn't regret it, but he's... flustered. Uncertain what to do with himself besides keep glancing between the window and the back door for the stablemaster to show up.
He's gathered up what belongings he'll absolutely need, being selective since he doesn't want to crowd Farogil. But that still leaves the question of what to do with the cats. Eventually he decides only Lord Sneak and Moose need to come with him. All he can find get dried, of course, and he puts out food and clean water, but they know how to take care of themselves. All the same, he promises them he'll be there every day as he scoops up the tiny kitten and more carefully apprehends the wily senior.
Shortly thereafter he's awkwardly ducking in Farogil's backdoor, trying not to drip all over the place but it's still raining out. Lord Sneak leaps down with an attempt at dignity, finding a chair and acting like he owns it. Tiny Moose, on the other hand, mewls pathetically from the nook formed by Detlef's left elbow.
"I thought you might not want all of them here. He's the eldest of all of them, so he needs this, and she's still being bullied by her littermates because she's smaller than them, so I'd like to keep her with me. If that's all right?" Cats had been agreed, but he's still nervous. Farogil's invited him to stay over. It's needed thanks to external elements, probably way sooner than he would have been invited otherwise, but he's still here.
The chair that Lord Sneak goes for happens to be the one Faro's put in front of the hearth, figuring that Detlef might like to be near it to dry off. Except Faro's briefly terrified that the cat is going into the fire and kinda throws his hands forward and leans in to stop him, only to sigh, visibly relieved, when instead he settles in on the seat. Of course. Cats are smart.
"Oh, of course! Only these two?" he asks as he reaches up to grab his towel from where it's hanging to dry above them. Farogil drapes it around Detlef and the kitten, figuring that even if he's about to go and get more he might appreciate the warmth for the moment. Or at least the little one will.
He leans against Farogil, toweled as he is, resting his forehead against the other's temple.
"I didn't want to overwhelm you. I was already coming over, and Lord Sneak is fairly calm, but that's because he's older." This is nice. He's tired but he's with someone he cares about, who cares about him. He can deal with the rest when he has this.
"If the roof repairs wind up taking longer than I expect and you're fine with it I may bring more cats over, but most of them are also used to coming and going as they please." He drops his bag so he can loop an arm around Farogil's waist. Yeah, he could stay here for a while.
Less cats is a pleasant surprise, but more cats would also be acceptable as long as he gets to keep Detlef, too.
"That's fine. We'll keep shutter open for them," Faro murmurs as he closes his eyes. He humms with contentment and tilts head to plant a soft, not-quite-chaste kiss on Detlef's lips.
The arm around his waist makes him want to lean in, turn the small kiss into a fuller one, but as soon as he starts to close the distance there's a little noise from under the blanket. Faro chuckles awkwardly and steps back a little to peek down between them.
He has to laugh as Moose protests, and gently scoops her up so she can touch her nose to Farogil's.
"She is. And if I'm to be honest, she's my favorite. Don't tell the other cats, please." She's a tiny little white fluffball with faint grey markings and giant blue eyes, reaching out a tiny paw to pat Faro's nose once she's bumped it. "But you can tell them that you're my favorite person. You can tell anyone you'd like that you are."
Moose gets moved away enough that he can kiss Faro's lips in return for the earlier one. It's brief, but nice.
"Um. Where would you like me to put my things that isn't middle of the floor?"
Faro goes a little cross-eyed as Moose is lifted up to his nose. There's a tight smile on his lips, like he's a little afraid to change his expression. Not that he would ever admit to being afraid of a tiny mewling kitten but she is up in his face and she does have claws and, ok, the noseboop was cute but-
But that kiss is much better. "Upstairs. I cleared a shelf for you."
He tucks the blanket in around Detlef's front so he's properly wrapped and will, hopefully, take hold of it himself. Faro grabs Detlef's bag off the floor and moves past him to head up the narrow stairs along the back wall. There's only one chamber upstairs and it serves double duty as his bedroom and storage for all his supplies. In a corner near the window is the bed, which is relatively big, with a proper wool-filled mattress and fine bedding. Along every wall -except directly next to the chimney- there are chests and drawers and shelves that are covered in neatly organized fabric and clothes and trays of yarn.
He heads in and sits down on a particularly sturdy looking chest at the foot of the bed, plunks Detlef's bag down next to him, then gestures at the only empty section of shelving.
As Colin puts his head on the pillow and settles in to sleep, Faro returns to his chair and resumes eating. He's quiet as he can be, mindful not tap his fork on the plate or thunk his cup too heavily on the table. He's got several reasons to not want to wake Colin and not all of them are altruistic.
The warm glances he casts his partner over the table and the way he scoots his foot forward to rest it next to his might be evidence of that.
"So..." he whispers once he's certain their friend is asleep, "We should stay close in case he wakes but... how do we...?"
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Early in the morning, Colin asked Detlef to meet him at the bakery in the evening. That time has approached, and Colin has just finished most of his evening routine--eating supper, cleaning dishes, cleaning the bakery, cleaning himself--and is in the process of lighting the candles when Detlef arrives. He gives a quick glance to confirm it's him.
"Thank you for coming," he sighs.
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"Is everything all right? Did you want to practice anything in particular?" They're clearly alone here, unless someone is hiding in a corner. And if someone is, then they can play it off like he's practicing breads.
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"It's...hard to...well. For this, I need you to sit on the floor."
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"Like this? Or is there something more specific you need?"
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"Sitting up, I'm afraid," he says apologetically. "I have to sit behind you. Back to back."
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"So what are we doing? Trust exercises? Drawing cats from memory? I'm going to have to keep asking and doing things that are more ridiculous each time until you fill me in."
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"All right. I need you to think of ten things about yourself that I don't know. Some of them must be lies and some must be true. For everything you say, write down whether it's true or false, and keep the list in order. And just write T or L--each has only two pen strokes. And no outrageous lies. Keep everything believable. Or, you can tell truths that sound like lies, but not lies that sound like lies. And don't give any hints."
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"My littlest sister's name is Leonie, and the other is Maja. My favorite color is pale blue." That's one truth and two lies so far, Leonie and Nele were his sisters, and he loves very dark blue... though it's a little possible Colin knows about the color.
"Um. I need new boots." Two truths, and he continues until he's at six truths and four lies.
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"All right. I've written down what I think the answers are. I couldn't see what you were writing. So..."
He turns around and sits by Detlef, setting their papers side by side. Every single answer matches Detlef's.
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Colin heads directly to the stables after talking with Detlef. He makes sure absolutely no one is nearby, nor in the loft, before speaking very softly near Detlef's ear.
"He's safe to tell. Though I should be there when you do, just in case."
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"You mean who I think you do? How do you, I mean, yes. Of course. But you're, you're sure?"
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A hopeful little smile, as if to keep Detlef from being discouraged.
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"No clues, just... suspense?"
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"Do you think I have a chance, at least? And do you want to head over now?" It's that or start letting dread get the better of him until he second-guesses his way out of trying with Faro anymore.
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He touches his friend's arm gently and starts wandering in the direction of the Broidery.
"Let's go."
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"Going," he says with no little trepidation.
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But the cats. Faro puts his cheapest cloth over his stock and his supplies, or puts away what can't be covered. Nelda's cloak is too precious to him to risk so even though it's meant to draw people in, he folds it up and puts it in the chest at the foot of his bed.
Detlef is supposed to be bringing the cats. Or maybe he's bringing his belongings first, and then they're both going to fetch the cats? Or the cats will just know this is where Detlef's staying? Inviting him to stay was an impulsive decision and Farogil doesn't regret it, but he's... flustered. Uncertain what to do with himself besides keep glancing between the window and the back door for the stablemaster to show up.
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Shortly thereafter he's awkwardly ducking in Farogil's backdoor, trying not to drip all over the place but it's still raining out. Lord Sneak leaps down with an attempt at dignity, finding a chair and acting like he owns it. Tiny Moose, on the other hand, mewls pathetically from the nook formed by Detlef's left elbow.
"I thought you might not want all of them here. He's the eldest of all of them, so he needs this, and she's still being bullied by her littermates because she's smaller than them, so I'd like to keep her with me. If that's all right?" Cats had been agreed, but he's still nervous. Farogil's invited him to stay over. It's needed thanks to external elements, probably way sooner than he would have been invited otherwise, but he's still here.
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"Oh, of course! Only these two?" he asks as he reaches up to grab his towel from where it's hanging to dry above them. Farogil drapes it around Detlef and the kitten, figuring that even if he's about to go and get more he might appreciate the warmth for the moment. Or at least the little one will.
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"I didn't want to overwhelm you. I was already coming over, and Lord Sneak is fairly calm, but that's because he's older." This is nice. He's tired but he's with someone he cares about, who cares about him. He can deal with the rest when he has this.
"If the roof repairs wind up taking longer than I expect and you're fine with it I may bring more cats over, but most of them are also used to coming and going as they please." He drops his bag so he can loop an arm around Farogil's waist. Yeah, he could stay here for a while.
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"That's fine. We'll keep shutter open for them," Faro murmurs as he closes his eyes. He humms with contentment and tilts head to plant a soft, not-quite-chaste kiss on Detlef's lips.
The arm around his waist makes him want to lean in, turn the small kiss into a fuller one, but as soon as he starts to close the distance there's a little noise from under the blanket. Faro chuckles awkwardly and steps back a little to peek down between them.
"This is... Moose, right?"
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"She is. And if I'm to be honest, she's my favorite. Don't tell the other cats, please." She's a tiny little white fluffball with faint grey markings and giant blue eyes, reaching out a tiny paw to pat Faro's nose once she's bumped it. "But you can tell them that you're my favorite person. You can tell anyone you'd like that you are."
Moose gets moved away enough that he can kiss Faro's lips in return for the earlier one. It's brief, but nice.
"Um. Where would you like me to put my things that isn't middle of the floor?"
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But that kiss is much better. "Upstairs. I cleared a shelf for you."
He tucks the blanket in around Detlef's front so he's properly wrapped and will, hopefully, take hold of it himself. Faro grabs Detlef's bag off the floor and moves past him to head up the narrow stairs along the back wall. There's only one chamber upstairs and it serves double duty as his bedroom and storage for all his supplies. In a corner near the window is the bed, which is relatively big, with a proper wool-filled mattress and fine bedding. Along every wall -except directly next to the chimney- there are chests and drawers and shelves that are covered in neatly organized fabric and clothes and trays of yarn.
He heads in and sits down on a particularly sturdy looking chest at the foot of the bed, plunks Detlef's bag down next to him, then gestures at the only empty section of shelving.
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The warm glances he casts his partner over the table and the way he scoots his foot forward to rest it next to his might be evidence of that.
"So..." he whispers once he's certain their friend is asleep, "We should stay close in case he wakes but... how do we...?"