(1310-10-06) Other Brothers
Summary: Gregoire and Symon bond over beer and conversation on their charismatic brothers.
RL Date: Sat Oct 06,2018
Related: Sea Shanty Verse-Off
gregoire symon 

Leaping Fish Inn - Market Promenade

The Main Room of the Leaping Fish is tidy and well-kept - and warmed by a fire in the hearth to one side on colder days and evenings. An old tapestry depicting a pair of two leaping fish is adorning the opposite wall - a reference to both the ruling House of Mereliot and the name of the inn. The common room has five tables of sturdy oak with chairs and benches, between which two serving maids move to take orders or bring food and beverages. The air is filled with tasty smells of freshly cooked meals, and murmurs of conversation - and occasionally even melodies rippling through the room, when a lute player is around to provide entertainment. The fare is of good quality that even would not disappoint noble tastes.

When looking out of the windows, you see: It is a fall evening. The weather is warm and overcast.


Gregoire makes his way to Symon's table and makes a motion to see if he'd like company, "Ahh, I guess these songs have outplayed their time." He gives a bow to the man, "It was a very funny song…the one you wrote. I enjoyed it."

Symon smiles and lifts a cup to Gregoire. "How kind of you to say," he says. "W…what could b-be more fun than sailors' songs?"

Gregoire takes a seat and shakes his head, "I can't think of any at this moment." He gives a nod to the weather outside, "And with all that heat, it's nice to blow off steam." He then introduces himself to the other lord, "Gregoire Basilisque de Baphinol."

"Sit w…with me, if you like," Symon invites, gesturing to another stool. "I'm called Symon. De P…Perigeux. P-pleasure to meet you."

"Perigeux, that's Siovale isn't it?" Gregoire asks with a smile, "I'm from Camlach and never been to those lands but that name is familiar to me from my studies when I was younger and we looked at the different families in the provinces."

"It is," Symon confirms. "I've never b…been anywhere, and never studied m…much of anything, I'm afraid," he says with a bright smile. "So I'm afraid I can't return the courtesy of knowing anything about you."

"Well Camlach is more mountainous," Gregoire explains to him, "I took to scouting when I was younger, cause I like the solitude of the forest than being in the drawing room." He gives a shake of his head, "I probably should have spent more time there given that my dear wife like to be in the city more than the countryside."

"M…mountains," Symon replies, leaning an elbow on the table. "That sounds adventurous. I don't know about solitude, however." He looks Gregoire over thoughtfully. "You seem friendly enough, though. Don't you enjoy b…being in the city w-with your w…wife?"

Gregoire makes a motion to himself, "I don't always…" He tries to think of the word, "Feel as though all the pieces fit for me here." He takes a deep sip of his drink, "And I miss the hunt, the feel of the chill in the air." He motions to his doublet that is partially open, "I feel like it should be colder with it being fall."

"It w…was chillier w-when I arrived," Symon replies. "I'm sure the cold will return soon enough. B…but tell me m-more." He drinks from his cup. "W…what doesn't fit?"

"Words fail me sometimes in social situations," Gregoire tells him truthfully, "I am not always the most aware of what others are feeling. Often I step on toes and annoy others." He shakes his head, "It's nothing specific. Just general impressions."

Symon can't help chuckling at that. "W…words fail me all the time," he says with a sense of warm amusement. "M…more literally, p-perhaps."

Gregoire gives a nod, "More literally but believe me…it's very much the same." He makes a motion to him, "Were you born this way?" He is a bit curious and sadly his manners are not as good as some that would not bring such a thing up.

Symon motions to order another wine, indicating two cups this time, and passes over more coins to the innkeeper. "Oh, no," he says openly, not appearing to be offended by the direct question. "I was m…much w-worse as a child." He laughs. "If you can b-believe it!" He grins. "And w…were you b-born whatever w…way /you/ are?" he asks wryly.

Gregoire shakes his head, "No…not really. I think my awkwardness is just built over time." He takes a sip of his drink, "My brother, Richard, just seems to flourish in that area. Had the charisma of a proper leader and drew people to him. So I found myself the after thought, the spare. And it was easier to just let him have center stage I suppose."

"Mm," Symon grunts, nodding as he swallows wine. "I had a charismatic b…brother, as w-well. Did your b…brother die?" Perhaps he's the type to ask blunt questions, too.

Gregoire shakes his head, "Oh no, my identical twin is alive and well in Camlach at my father's side, training to be the next Baron of Cleron." He motions to himself, "While I was married out to strength ties with another family, Baphinol." He does give a concerned look to Symon, "Did you lose your brother?"

"Ah," Symon replies. "You said 'had,' so I thought…" He nods at the question. "Two years ago. Is it strange b-being twins, w…where you are the same age, b-but he is heir and you are not?"

Gregoire makes a motion, "Sorry…I guess for me I feel like that life is gone so…I talk to it like it's 'dead' when really it's only in the past." He gives a wry look, "And yes, it's strange that just a mere three minutes is what decided who would be the heir. Who would be the spare." He motions to himself, "I was very resentful as a child but it's gotten easier in some ways with the distance."

"Children are that w…way," Symon replies, waving a hand vaguely. "Adults understand m…more. Do you and your b-brother still speak?"

Gregoire shakes his head, "No, we're not close…haven't been for many years." He seems to regret that by the look on his face. He makes a motion to Symon, "Where you close to your brother?"

Symon laughs quietly, eyes momentarily dropping. "Not…in some w-ways. It is difficult, I suspect you understand p…perfectly. I'm the oldest but…m…my p-parents preferred him for heir."

Gregoire looks rather surprised at the mention that the younger son would have been preferred, "That's odd. I'm used to the right of succession being given to the oldest." He gives a motion to the other man, "Did they ever explain why?"

Symon has another glug of wine. "Not directly to m…me, but of course I heard. Frequently. I w…was generally considered a hopeless idiot." He sets his cup down. "Do you think there are any p…parties on tonight? I'm still trying to m-meet people."

"You're not an idiot," Gregoire protests, finishing his drink and putting the glass a little harder than intended, "My apologies…but any man that could write such a clever song isn't an idiot." He does shake his head at the mention of parties for the evening, "Sadly I don't. But I have to be going anyway."

"I hate to write," Symon says. "B…but I couldn't resist such a temptation. M…my spelling is /awful/. Usually I have my servant do m…my writing for me." When Gregoire announces his intention to depart, Symon says, "Oh! Yes, of course. I suppose I'll have to hope to find festivities on my own. What a p…pleasure to have met you, though."

"I enjoyed your company Symon," Gregoire gives him a deep smile, "We should spend some time together again. Perhaps visit the Night Court together." He gives a few coins to cover things and then heads out of the inn.

"I'd like that," Symon replies, sounding genuine. "Enjoy the w…w…warmth while it lasts."

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