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Another drabble
Nov. 17th, 2009 12:30 pmThis is just about the last one of these. For ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shezzawatto who said "How about H/A and Spanish wine in El Ferrol (on parole after going back)".
The wine was excellent. Archie hadn’t tasted wine since the evening before the fatal cutting out expedition – they’d given them rum on the Indy, against the cold. He sipped slowly, afraid the heady mixture would loosen his tongue. Such a shame they couldn’t toast Don Massaredo’s birthday later, in the privacy of their own cell, rather than here under the fierce Spanish sun and the eyes of their fellow captives.
“Our jailor keeps a good cellar, if he can spare this for his prisoners.” Horatio held his glass to the light.
“Your gallant rescue mission has raised our standing,” Archie took another sip, “the villagers would lynch him if he treated us ill.”
“Our rescue, Archie. Ours.” Horatio pulled off a corner of fresh bread, savouring the aroma before eating it. He lowered his voice. “You look happier than I’ve seen you in months - almost content.”
“Ah.” Archie smiled. “Happiness, freedom, they’re all in here,” he tapped his forehead, “rather than out there.” He airily waved their copy of Don Quixote. “Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough, I know it’s not actually a bough, Horatio, but you get my drift. A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness – actually if you could bear not to sing that would be splendid - and Wilderness is Paradise enow.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever understand you.”
“I don’t need you to.” Archie’s voice became a whisper. “Just continue to love me.”
shezzawatto who said "How about H/A and Spanish wine in El Ferrol (on parole after going back)".The wine was excellent. Archie hadn’t tasted wine since the evening before the fatal cutting out expedition – they’d given them rum on the Indy, against the cold. He sipped slowly, afraid the heady mixture would loosen his tongue. Such a shame they couldn’t toast Don Massaredo’s birthday later, in the privacy of their own cell, rather than here under the fierce Spanish sun and the eyes of their fellow captives.
“Our jailor keeps a good cellar, if he can spare this for his prisoners.” Horatio held his glass to the light.
“Your gallant rescue mission has raised our standing,” Archie took another sip, “the villagers would lynch him if he treated us ill.”
“Our rescue, Archie. Ours.” Horatio pulled off a corner of fresh bread, savouring the aroma before eating it. He lowered his voice. “You look happier than I’ve seen you in months - almost content.”
“Ah.” Archie smiled. “Happiness, freedom, they’re all in here,” he tapped his forehead, “rather than out there.” He airily waved their copy of Don Quixote. “Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough, I know it’s not actually a bough, Horatio, but you get my drift. A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness – actually if you could bear not to sing that would be splendid - and Wilderness is Paradise enow.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever understand you.”
“I don’t need you to.” Archie’s voice became a whisper. “Just continue to love me.”
