Katherine Howard, Queen of England (without_a_thorn) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2011-12-10 17:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | eleanor of aquitaine, saint george |
Who: George & Eleanor
What: Eleanor calls her last bastion of sanity and drags him out for lunch
When: Saturday afternoon
Where: Restaurant
Note: Reposted as a favour, originally posted by George and Eleanor
Eleanor considered herself a patient person when the occasion called for it. She could wait for long periods of time and betray no emotion, if that's what was necessary. But now was not that time. John was angering her rather well with his outbursts, and honestly, by now, you'd think he would have matured at least a little. Apparently not. And Richard certainly wasn't helping, needling his brother. Also to be expected, but still rather aggravating.
So Saturday afternoon, she'd placed a call to George, asking if he had any plans for the afternoon. "I could do with some intelligent conversation from someone who isn't related to me," she'd said. "And at the moment, my sons are wearing on my nerves. Would you like to come have lunch with me?"
George was finally starting to feel normal again, and he was always up for lunch with Eleanor. And Eleanor was calm, something desperately needed right now.
When they met up at the restaraunt, George wrapped her in a hug. "How's parenting going for you right now?" he asked, laughing a little.
She squeezed him in return, smiling into his shoulder. Then she rolled her eyes at his question. "I've now been shouted at by my hysterical son via the Internet. Honestly, he's a grown man who behaves like a child having a tantrum. You'd think the years would have given him some maturity or wisdom, but non. Of course not."
She sighed. "But never mind my dramatics. How are you?"
George smiled and sat down across from her, snagging a piece of bread out of the bowl on the table. "In fairness to John, his public image hasn't done him any favors when it comes to being a grown-up. You've seen the Disney Robin Hood movie, right?"
At her question, George shrugged and looked down at the table. "Been better. But I'm starting to feel like my old self again."
She barked out a laugh at his question. "Yes, I have, in fact. And he was a bit like that before it came out, but not nearly so bad. If I could burn that infernal film, I would." She took her own piece of bread and bit into it, leaning back in the booth.
She cast a keen gaze on him, noting the change in his demeanor. "Yes, I saw you weren't feeling quite yourself. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I used to be able to talk to him without him accusing me of hating him," George said with an amused sigh. He smiled gently at Eleanor. "And I don't think it's anything you can fix. Just...thanks for not torturing me to death any time I irritated you. I appreciate that kind of thoughtfulness out of my monarchs."
She gestured to the waiter and ordered some wine for herself, waiting until he'd retreated to reply. "I remember that," she replied quietly. "He was a bit of a gentler soul, as much as he ever could have been. He was, and is, still very much his father's son."
She raised her eyebrows, but then reminded herself that she didn't know everything there ever was to know about George. "But of course," she replied with a fond smile. "Given that every time you rode out into battle with Richard, I felt better, I don't think the thought ever even crossed my mind. And our entire line are rather your monarchs, aren't they?"
"Oh yeah, all of you are mine," George said with a laugh. He took a sip of the wine that the water brought out. "Even when your sons are fighting like angry cats. Would this be a bad time to mention that every time they start yelling at each other on the Internet, I picture them as little kids again, throwing their toys at each other?"
She snickered a little. "There are worse deities to be under the protection of," she said. "We have a warrior Saint, and all the better for us."
She pulled a face. "They've been fighting like angry cats almost since birth," she reminded him. And then she laughed, really laughed, a bright sound. "No! Not in the slightest. Because when they bicker like that, it's pretty much what they are."
"They really have, haven't they?" George said, snorting. "Do you remember the first time Richard met his little brother? I'm pretty sure he pulled his hair and then demanded that he get attention instead of John." A little more serious, he asked, "How's John doing? All I could really get out of him was that he thought Robing Hood was messing with him again."
"I love both of them, don't misunderstand," Eleanor said. "They are my children, and I will cut down everything in my way to protect them, even if I can't use a sword anymore. But sometimes, I think they fight simply because they don't know any other way. God forbid they come to some kind of armistice with each other."
She shrugged, shoving a hand through her hair. "He's been robbed and humiliated, he's doing about as well as can be expected, from what I've gathered. Jacob said there was some kind of mass e-mail with a video of him sucking his thumb in his sleep." She winced. "And I know how sensitive he can be sometimes."
"Oh crap, yeah, that would set him off," George said with a sigh. "I could try talking to Robin Hood? John's not king anymore, he doesn't have any excuse for harassing him, arch-nemesis or not."
Eleanor felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "Would you? I don't think he'd listen to anyone else, despite how much he claims to like and respect Richard. He needs to stop this before John does something and completely overreacts."
"I can't guarantee he'll listen to me, either," George said with a shrug. "Robin pretty much plays by his own rules, from what I've heard. But I ended up sending Will Scarlet into the Army last time he screwed up royally, so I can always threaten the Shanghai the whole lot of them."
"At this point, I feel it's either you speak to him, or I go and drill some sense into his head," she muttered darkly, taking a large sip of win. "Although perhaps not with a literal drill, he most likely wouldn't enjoy it very much. And I second the lot of them being shanghaied, maybe it would get them to just stop for a little while."
"Yeah, try not to take anyone apart with power tools," George said, knowing that Eleanor would almost certainly do that if she felt irritated enough. She'd never been one to sit idle. "I can't let any of them into the Air Force, though. Those planes cost millions of dollars just to make, and they are thieves."
She laughed softly. "I won't. But I certainly will be keeping an eye on him from now on, agitating John tends to lead to spectacular explosions." She considered his other words, trying to come up with an alternative. "Hmm. Perhaps they could join a volunteer corps? To give something back and not be compensated for it."
"Anything is better than having them sit around bored," George agreed. "I guess that's what happens when the world moves on and your old job doesn't quite fit anymore. The whole 'noble band of thieves' thing isn't going to work out these days."
"They'll have to find something, or they'll end up in jail or a hospital, neither of which will do any of them any good," she replied, rubbing her temples. "You and I have moved on, so have Richard and John and the other royalty and Saints. We have because we must. We survive and adapt or we perish. And I have no intention of perishing." Her eyes flashed for a moment. "But yes, anything to have them focused on something besides John."
"Anyone who thinks you'd let yourself quietly fade away obviously doesn't know you very well at all," George said, nodding. "I'll see what I can do. I'll try to get Richard to talk to them as well, but sibling rivalry might win out."
She smiled at George. He knew her rather well, and she was glad to call the saint a friend. "No. No they do not. I will go when it is my time and not one second before, on that you can rely."
"If Richard knows what is good for him, he'll help us in this endeavor," he said, expression set and determined. "And if not, we could always tell him that not offering his assistance will make John even more insufferable to him than he already is. It may very well work."
"That's true," George said. "After all, if John makes the news for trying to kill Robin Hood in broad daylight, Richard will never have a moment's peace again."