Gunnar Lucifer Elen Drake (druggedconsort) wrote in deceptpercep, @ 2010-08-04 15:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | ☥ drake coven, ♂ gunnar drake, ✏ 5: thursday, ✏ 6: friday |
[Week Fourteen] Thursday Night/Friday Morning
Who: Gunnar Drake [Open to the Drake Family]
When: Week Fourteen; Thursday Night-Friday morning just before dawn.
Where: The Drake Manor in Sanguis
What: The royal consort drags himself back home after spending some time away. He looks none the worse for wear, but mentally, where's his head?
Ratings & Warnings: PG-13 for now. May change, he is a married man after all.
Daylight was coming. He felt it the same as always. It didn't mean terrible much to him, but he had always marked the comings and goings of daylight as a necessity of his existence. After all, if you wanted to achieve your ends, you needed to have some concept of time. A day equaling 24 hours. A week, seven days. 365 days in a year. Heaven only knew how many years in a lifetime. He was becoming philosophical. Someone would let him know if that was a bad thing or not. Gunnar Drake returned much as he had left, wearing no shoes, and padding through the halls with his shirt thrown open. If one didn't know he'd been gone, it would have seemed like the usual end to a day. Except he had been gone. He left without fanfare, simply kissing Nicolette good day one dawn and walking away from Sanguis. Some would think it a stupid choice, a single member of the royal family going abroad without escort in a time when it was possible that murderers roamed the streets hollowing for royal blood. He took about as much notice of that as he did of the weather whilst standing out in the rain. It simply was. The royal consort traveled across the continent and picked up a boat in a tiny town on the beach across the strait from Byron, then he'd crossed the water. His mother and father were not necessarily pleased to see him. His visits were, at best, infrequent and usually dogged by some intrinsic need to seek out advice from his progenitors. Therefore, when he appeared and settled in their home for an unknown amount of time, they were not initially happy to see him. His presence would bring pleasure into their home after a day or two, but upon first arrival gloom dominated. Gunnar discussed the current events with his father, keeping no secrets of his own, but protecting those of the family he had sworn himself into. After all, his Nicolette deserved her privacy in her affairs and his children were their own creatures capable of deciding who should know what about them. He would not violate their trust. So his father did the best he could to advise. After that first night, the troubles were not brought up again and Gunnar stayed longer than usual. In fact, it was the longest visit he'd made since he left in his forties to return the head of the Elen Matriarch's son. When he finally decided to go home, he kissed them goodbye and made no promises as to when he would again grace them with his presence. It was better that way, they had no expectations. Now he walked the halls of the manor, aware others knew he was back, but not worrying about them either. The soft jingle of the chains attached to his pants were the only announcement he truly felt he needed. Word would spread quickly. Now the question was: did he go into his apartments and shut his door, thus avoiding the upcoming discussions of his whereabouts and choice to abandon his post, or leave it open, come what may? He settled in what could only be called a living room, and sank down into an arm chair, a comfortable old thing which had been worn down in places from his consistent use. He refused to have it replaced because it was so physically familiar to him. If he had visitors, he would have visitors. A bemused smile settled over his features and he closed his eyes to mere slits. Gunnar was home, for now, that was enough. |