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The day was still so young and yet Torrin had nothing to entertain himself with. He briefly considered trying to find someone to annoy but that would involve moving and he really couldn’t be bothered, besides, no one was as fun to annoy as she’d always been. Urgh. He had to stop this. He had to stop every line of thought with some comment about Lady Vivian. She wasn’t coming back. And even if she was, she’d be throwing herself at Arthur...the only consolation he had about that was she was under the influence of an enchantment – not that that made it much better anyway. He sighed. So much for not thinking about her...but it just...it angered him. Arthur had been enchanted as well, but he’d had Gwen and that was fine. They were fine. But Vivian didn’t have anyone so she’d just continue...

“Torrin, aren’t jesters supposed to be merry?”

A familiar voice brought him out of his thoughts, which was quite lucky and very welcomed. He really did think about Vivian too often so the distraction was more than needed. He looked up to see Gwaine grinning at him, and found himself rather envious of the man. He might be being a little over dramatic (he was a jester after all) but he really did miss the days when he was as carefree as Gwaine was (or at least as carefree as he made himself out to be). He just swanned about in the castle making fun of people and performing tricks and that was enough. What did Torrin do now? He moped, well, he moped when he wasn’t performing or rehearsing. It was hardly a fitting pastime for his profession. Despite this, he managed to grin back at Gwaine. “I like to go against the trend.”

“I shouldn’t worry, I know just what will cheer you up.”

The young jester raised a questioning eyebrow. Did he actually want to know what Gwaine had in mind? Knowing the knight it could be absolutely anything, then again, whatever it was was likely to shake him from this rather melancholy mood he’d fallen into. “Oh?” He wasn’t prepared to commit either way at present, nor was he going to stand up. That would be a waste of energy if Gwaine proved to be a disappointment. Instead he just leant back slightly so he could see his friend more clearly without having to strain his neck looking up. “And what’s that then?”

Torrin was entirely convinced her words were true, but he wasn't going to argue with her, she might do something really mean like deny him food. He just shrugged in agreement - it was easier that way. Tesslin did like to boss him around, but then, by her own words, somebody had to. There were very few people in the world who could actually boss Torrin around, and she was definitely one of them. She might look like a mouse to the world, but Torrin knew her as a lion, a lion who was tremendously good in the kitchen.

Tesslin might not know what would happen if she wasn't around to feed him, but he certainly did. He would starve, it was that simple. Jesters weren't paid all that well, and the money that he did make always disappeared, quickly replaced by ale and clothes. Food, especially hers, was something Torrin took for granted. He just assumed he'd be able to swing by the kitchens, like now, and find himself fed. If this was to stop happening, and he actually had to fend for himself, well, it wouldn't end well. "I would suffer endlessly," he replied with a grin, "Or at least I would until I starved."

He couldn't help but smile as Tesslin did, she did look rather proud of herself. Well she should be, those tarts were delicious. There were very few people who possessed her talents, Torrin should know, he ate enough food. Her words were met with a raised eyebrow. "Drunkeness you understand, ey?" He folded his arms against his chest, "And when was the last time you were drunk?"

Torrin was more than confident Robyn would pass such tests - as she put them. Already she had more than captured his attention, she'd made him lose his balance, so to speak, and that was rather impressive. He was, after all, Torrin Fletch, balancing was what he did. It was rather refreshing though, and he meant that in the least pretentious way. He liked being unnerved, of not quite knowing exactly where he stood, where this was going. Well, it was quite obvious where this was going, but the pace, the control, they all seemed to be in Robyn's hands. Surprisingly, Torrin was enjoying this. Usually he was the one in control, the one making all the moves, and while he wasn't completely giving into Robyn - because where would the fun be in that? - he was quite willing to let her win this one. She was quite a woman, unlike any he'd ever met before.

"Confident?" He raised his eyebrows, a smirk on his lips, "You don't know how very high my standards are." He winked at her, see, the fight wasn't completely finished yet. While, as he'd previously thought, he was happy to hand over the control, he wasn't going to do so lightly. A grin formed on his lips at her next words. Now then, this was a development. Everything previously had just been flirtations, ones that could have just dissolved into nothing. But Robyn had made the decision, had taken it to the next step, and Torrin was not going to disappoint. He tilted his head slightly, resisting the very strong urge to kiss her - there would be enough of that later, of that he was certain. For now, she was right, they did need to find somewhere more secretive. Unfortunately the only place he could suggest was his own chamber, it was hardly a place of luxury but it was private and not entirely uncomfortable.

"Surely you are not suggesting what I think you are?" He asked, trying to feign shock but the smile was giving it away. This seemed to be one of the few times his acting skills were letting him down, not that it mattered much. There was no doubt as to what Robyn was suggesting. "Because if you are...I may have a trick up my sleeve."

Torrin didn't actually know what he was doing. He was being ridiculous, but that much was obvious. This wasn't his usual level of ridiculousness, oh no, this was extra ridiculousness. This was Vivian induced ridiculousness. That damned girl, she'd managed to change everything and nothing made sense and Torrin was left hating her but loving her and just missing her. Camelot was so dull and quiet without her storming around and shouting at everyone. It didn't even matter anymore that when he had last seen her she'd been hopelessly in love with Arthur. He'd heard she'd been enchanted - it wasn't her. Part of Torrin, the naive, romantic part of him took this to mean that there could be some small spec of hope for him. Despite her constantly arguing with him and telling him to leave her alone, he had thought it wasn't just his own imagination but there had been...something. Vivian just hadn't realised what that was - and neither had he - until it was too late.

But, he was going to change that. Sort of. He'd managed to get permission from the prince to leave Camelot - he'd told some lie about a dying uncle in another kingdom. In reality, he was trying to find Lady Vivian. His lie to Arthur wasn't his only deception - he'd managed to convince Richard de Calys to find him some clothes suitable for a noble and act as his servant. Vivian's father, King Olaf, was hardly going to welcome a peasant. And so he had travelled to Lyonesse whilst styling himself as Lord Edmund. Unsurprisingly, he found people were much more hospitable to "Lord Edmund" than they were to Torrin Fletch. He was trying not to see this as an excercise in elitism. That, after all, was not his objective. Lady Vivian was. He just needed to see her again, even if she was still enchanted. It didn't matter, not now, all that mattered was seeing her again.

Rather strangely, he was beginning to feel nervous. Torrin never felt nervous but he was stood in the courtyard of Olaf's castle, waiting to be greeted, Richard at his side and he just couldn't stop his hand from shaking. What if the king recognised him? He had only seen the man when he'd been entertaining but even so. There was that possibility. What was he to say to the man? What was he to say to Vivian? Was it too late to just run away?

"We're not going back." Richard said firmly and tried to give Torrin a reassuring look. He was being paid rather handsomely for this little venture, and although he usually wouldn't care about not doing the work for said money, he regarded Torrin as a friend. They weren't just going to leave because Torrin had decided this was a bad idea. Besides, Richard had been saying it was a bad idea from the start. If they just went it would mean the entire journey would have been in vain.

"I don't want to go back." Torrin replied, trying to convince himself more than Richard. No, that wasn't true. He didn't need convincing, he just needed to have a little faith. This would all be fine. He'd see Vivian and she'd forget all about being enchanted and decide it was Torrin all along. How could that possibly go wrong?


Tagged: Lady Vivian
Location: Lyonesse
Timeline: A few months after "Sweet Dreams"

Torrin wasn't entirely happy with her words. Surely she did know who he was? Everyone knew who he was. He was Torrin Fletch! The girl was clearly an idiot if she was being serious. Well, he would just have to educate her, wouldn't he? He took another sip of his coffee before answering, a small smile forming on his lips. Ah yes. The Vivian raised eyebrow. A mighty thing to behold. Those who saw such a thing didn't often life to tell the tale. Torrin would be one of the lucky few. "Torrin Fletch." He offered her his hand, not actually sure whether she would shake it or not. She probably wouldn't - she was clearly far too above him for that sort of thing, but then again he wouldn't be surprised if she did.

"I've seen you around campus." He said, aware that she wasn't going to make conversation with him, this was going to be a sole effort on his part. Unluckily for her, Torrin was rather good at making conversation. He could talk for hours and often did. Although usually there was a mic and an audience involved. Well, Vivian could be his audience. He readily welcomed a heckle or two from her. "You're studying...fashion?" Torrin already knew that, but he didn't want to sound like a stalker. That definitely wouldn't give off the right vibes, and vibes were very important during a first meeting. He wanted to make sure this wasn't going to be a first and last.

Torrin Fletch was running late for a lecture, only by about five minutes but even so, that was too late now. He might as well just not go. He'd only disturb everyone that had managed to wake up before midday. Besides, he'd be seeing Griff and Richard later and they could tell him what he missed. So, as it happened, he was fancy free and more than free for anything fancy. Or a coffee. He could really do with a coffee, thinking about it. And so it was that Torrin made his way to the café in the union, stopping briefly to flirt with a young redhead who happened to walk past him. It was only a short walk and he was soon sat near the window, Americano and a notepad in front of him on the table. He might be studying English, but he had aspirations other than spending his life apprecating someone else's use of language. Only last night he'd done a routine at Camelot's Comedy Club, one that went down rather well, even if he did say so himself. Comedy was all about observation, about understanding how people worked and how absurd the world could be. That's why he always had his notepad with him - so he could write down snippets of conversations, record people's stupidity and call upon it later.

He was gazing rather absent mindedly out the window, trying not to think about Cummings' use of punctuation or what The Rime of the Ancient Mariner had to do with slavery when a young blonde woman caught his eye. Ah, Vivian Lyon. Like him, she was a second year, but unlike him her father was seeing to her loans and tuition fees and she wasn't actually studying a real subject. She looked angry but then that really wasn't anything new. Vivian had a temper as big as her hair. Torrin didn't usually have much to do with her - it was rather difficult to do anything Torrin wanted to when she was being followed around by those sicophants of hers. But surprisingly she was alone...and walking into the café. Well, this was an oppurtunity far too good for him to miss. He shuffled in his seat so he could see her better and watched as she practically shouted her order at the poor man behind the counter.

She quickly found herself a seat, annoyingly rather far away. This was something Torrin was have to actually commit to. He stood up, picked up his drink and notepad and made his way over to the girl. She still looked angry. How could she possible be angry all the time? It was one of those mysteries of the universe, only this time he wouldn't be mentioning that to any of the physics lot because he really, really didn't need another two hours of his life being told that unlike string theory the "emotional output of a human female was not, in fact, a mystery of the universe and could be quite easily explained through a basic understanding of psychology". Christ that had been a long afternoon. But, that was neither here nor there. Physics was not something he was interested in right now, he told himself, and then rather crudely added that what he was actually interested in was biology.

On reaching Vivian's table he didn't ask to join her or say anything because she'd just tell him to go away and he would ignore her so it would be a waste of everyone's time. Instead he just dropped his notepad on the table and sat down, taking a sip of his drink. "Ah, Vivian, looking as angry as ever I see."


Tagged: Vivian
Permission to godmod

Again, apologies for the wait

Robyn really wasn't a master of subtlety, but then, Torrin really wasn't one to talk and anyway he didn't care that much. It was amusing though, how blatant she was being. Most women hid behind blushes, some, more fun women, kept their suggestions opens with an air of innocence. Robyn, however, was going for the jugular. Of course, the only problem with that was it prompted too many images and not enough words, and for a moment or two Torrin was completely at a loss of what to say. This would have been more embarrassing if his brain wasn't far too preoccupied. It was a good thing he still wasn't having to charm her with his wit - such as it was - otherwise he'd be failing somewhat.

"I hope you realise I'm not just going to take your word for it." He replied when he'd recovered from the images and managed to think in sentences again. It didn't help that Robyn was smirking, well, it helped some things, but not his attempt at being witty. Then again, it was unlikely Robyn would suddenly abandon him now because of his lack of word play. Hopefully.

It seemed his fingers were having quite an affect on her, something which surely made up for his loss of wit. That was something he was rather good at - the physicality, the light, gentle caresses, the skin on skin. He pulled his hand away, he wasn't going to be quite so easy. The hand, no longer against her skin, came to rest on the small of her back so she was pulled towards him once more. "Well I have several ideas...but what with our current location none of them are hardly appropriate."

Torrin watched with both confusion and concern as Tesslin took the tarts away from him and seemed to be...heading...towards the...rubbish... Why would she do that? Didn't she realise just how long he'd gone without food? It had been at least two hours, which for Torrin was mightily impressive. Surely she was just teasing him because anything else would just be absurd. He could smell the tarts from where he stood, eyes fixed on them, mouth slightly open. It was simply incomprehensible that she would just get rid of them. "I was only coughing!" There was a sense of panic in his voice, which, if he wasn't too busy being concerned about the tarts, he would have been embarrassed about. If she took another step towards the rubbish he was ready to make a leap for them. There was no way they were going to end up anywhere but in his stomach.

"You're never less than the best!" Torrin was edging towards her, trying to work out if he could grab the tarts from her before she did anything stupid. He was rather close to her now, and his eyes were still fixed on the food, determined that he would save all the tarts from their fate. Maybe if he complimented her more she'd give them back...that could work, after all, he was used to using words to get what he wanted. "I do know you better - I know you to be the finest cook in all of Camelot!"

There was a sigh of relief as she set the tarts down. It seemed his plan had worked, not that there was really any doubt about that...or that he was genuinely concerned. That would just be silly. He wasn't going to look away though, just in case this was her trying to lull him into a false sense of security, making him believe the tarts were safe only to take them away again. But she didn't, and he finally had one in his hand, still slightly warm from the oven and looking every bit as delicious as he'd expected. It almost seemed like a shame to eat it, almost, but he hadn't nearly thrown himself at the girl to protect the tarts just so he could look at them. He sunk his teeth into the pastry with relish, surprised to find it better than expected. "And you have a way with food." He replied, mouth full of tart and crumbs stuck to his lips. It was definitely worth the wait, but then everything Tesslin made was worth the wait, and worth the time it took to persuade her to make it in the first place, but then as she so correctly pointed out, he had a way with words.

It shouldn't amuse him so much when she raised her chin, but it really did. It was that act of defiance, that attempt at looking in control. It was rather endearing really, as most things she did seem to be. For someone who didn't really have much too her - except a lot of blonde hair, and he meant a lot - she could probably cut quite the imposing figure, if she didn't look quite so much like a mouse trying to argue against a cat. "Yes, I do." He grinned, stepping towards her, trying to close that gap between them but not wanting to go too far. She was still royalty, after all, and her father was still rather imposing.

He probably shouldn't have found her words quite so inappropriate - but at least she'd said the word knife and not something like weapon, which had been used far too often for cheap innuendo. Even so, Torrin was managing to find the inappropriate undertones in her speech and trying not to laugh because of it. She might think he was laughing at her when he was merely laughing at her unfortunate word choice. "Is that the only thing you're not so bad with?" It was rather cheap, but it amused him. He probably couldn't say the same for her though.

Ooh, she had some bite. Turns out she wasn't just a pretty (angry) face. But, unfortunately for her, the more she became annoyed, the more she endeared herself to Torrin who really wasn't used to someone being so open about their contempt. Normally women were throwing themselves at him, or trying to outwit him. She was just shouting. He rather liked it. "You must forgive me, Your Highness. As you say, I do not have that much experience with conversing with royalty. Perhaps you would take it upon yourself to change this?" Maybe a change of tacticts was called for, or maybe this would irritate her more. Torrin wasn't entirely sure which outcome he preferred.

He merely shrugged at her question. He really didn't have anything better to do. No one needed him, and he wasn't hungry enough to go and torment the kitchen servants. At the moment there was only Vivian - wasn't she a lucky girl. "Not really, no. You don't mind, do you?"