Amy (
kitchen_maid) wrote2012-08-11 09:18 pm
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Continental Breakfast Included
The King and Queen have a great many parlors at their disposal, ranging from the very grand to somewhat very grand.
And then there is this one, which is generally reserved for the use of the family and their closest personal friends. It is a comfortable, sunlit sort of room, where one may find the children's toys and the Amy's embroidery and Perry's carving projects.
It is also where Amy has instructed her staff to lay out a breakfast for her friends this morning. They were all shown back to their rooms for what was left of the night before after their adventures, to at least attempt to get some rest.
Amy herself is a bit busy at the moment catching up on Official Matters: giving reports to the Deputy Captain of the Palace Guard and the Court Historian, seeing to the palace's new ghost (she's settled him in the Northwest tower, which is, she assures him, a perfectly lovely place to haunt), and reassuring her husband that yes, darling, she really is perfectly all right. She'll be along when she can.
In the meantime, everyone is free to make their way into the parlor in their own time. When they arrive, they will likely find company, and definitely find a table laid with everything the kitchens could find to send up: bread and jam and marmalade, cakes and pastries, eggs and bacon and sausages, a giant bowl of fruit, tea and juice and milk.
And then there is this one, which is generally reserved for the use of the family and their closest personal friends. It is a comfortable, sunlit sort of room, where one may find the children's toys and the Amy's embroidery and Perry's carving projects.
It is also where Amy has instructed her staff to lay out a breakfast for her friends this morning. They were all shown back to their rooms for what was left of the night before after their adventures, to at least attempt to get some rest.
Amy herself is a bit busy at the moment catching up on Official Matters: giving reports to the Deputy Captain of the Palace Guard and the Court Historian, seeing to the palace's new ghost (she's settled him in the Northwest tower, which is, she assures him, a perfectly lovely place to haunt), and reassuring her husband that yes, darling, she really is perfectly all right. She'll be along when she can.
In the meantime, everyone is free to make their way into the parlor in their own time. When they arrive, they will likely find company, and definitely find a table laid with everything the kitchens could find to send up: bread and jam and marmalade, cakes and pastries, eggs and bacon and sausages, a giant bowl of fruit, tea and juice and milk.
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She takes some bread and a plum to go with her tea, and chooses a chair on the edge of the room, near a window and next to a small table. Someone has left a copy of Mother Goose on the table, which (at least until other people show up), Meg is flipping through.
The illustrations are quite lovely.
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"Do you feel like you've just woken up from the most weird-ass dream?" she asks.
Parker does. And little wonder.
Since the 'weird-ass' had all been quite real.
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"I can't tell you how little I'm looking forward to explaining all this to my husband.
"How are you this morning?"
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He's taking a break from babysitting his broom - which he has shrunk to doll-sized and set lose among Susan's toys, now - to sit on the floor besides the small table and pick off some of the proteins and carbs he has piled on his plate.
"How are you this morning?"
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"I'm all right, thank you.
"Still trying to convince myself that all of last night actually happened, a little.
"How are you?"
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She'd found a rather grand dressing gown and pair of slippers in the wardrobe of her guest room, attempted to tame the bed-head, and then followed her nose to the breakfast laid out in the parlor.
Parker has a comfortable chair, a pastry and cup of tea sitting on a side table, and a few of Susan's finger puppets. She's placed them on her own fingers, and is idly waving them at her own face.
She's awake. Really.
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"Parker," X says, approaching her friend from the left.
Warily.
"You are not possessed?"
What?
It could happen!
Er.
"Or falling asleep."
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Parker looks Laura over.
"Did you get enough sleep?"
She looks....very much not like someone who is so tired she's playing with finger puppets.
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Amy has not slept, but this fact doesn't show in either her bearing or her expression. (Though you can see it a bit around her eyes.)
"Not exactly the restful visit to a football game I invited you for, I'm afraid."
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Parker quickly shakes off the finger puppets and sits up a little more.
"Why aren't you sleeping in?"
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It only takes a moment to pour a cup of milk, spread some jam on a few pieces of bread, and add a few strips of bacon to her plate. Balancing a serving of fruit is really not that much more difficult.
Then, fully prepared to camp out with food for quite some time, X makes her way to a comfortable chair near a reasonably sized table.
It helps not to have to worry about spills.
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She has her hands wrapped around a cup of tea.
"How are you today?"
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"I am okay."
Beat.
"You do not want to go back to sleep?"
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"It seems we find ourselves once again in your debt.
"Thank you."
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Then, several seconds later, she reaches out to shake Amy's hand.
"You are welcome."
Beat.
"I like when you are safe. And your kingdom."
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One well-dressed, bushy-eyed wizard in a cheery mood wanders into the parlor for breakfast. He's also got with him one of the brooms he'd been working on.
It seems to be a bit more ...alive than it was yesterday after their flight, sweeping over to the table alongside Scorpius and - more or less - observing as he piles food onto a plate.
It tries to spear a sausage and knocks over a jug of milk.
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She studies it curiously for a second and then turns back to Scorpius.
"Does the broom eat?"
Because she has no idea what a broom would eat, or how, but she has a palace kitchen at her disposal, should they need it.
(Or it can help itself to sausages.)
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"Sorry about that. It wasn't actually supposed to be so, er - Well. Sentient."
He overdid it with the magic, just a bit.
"I wouldn't worry about feeding it. I think it's just trying to get a feel of the place."
It bumps against Amy as it sweeps away from the table.
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"Who's your date?" she asks with a tired grin.
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Scorpius takes the napkins and sets to wiping up the mess.
For about two or so seconds before he gets milk on his hands and then he takes care of the rest with magic.
He takes in her wardrobe with a grin.
"Did you manage any sleep last night?"
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She blinks once, gaze flicking toward Scorpius, then back again.
"You think you will need to escape from the palace, too?"
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There's a general wave in the direction of everyone, and he heads to the table. Fruit is the order of the day.
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(There's always tea.)
"Good morning, Bruce.
"How are you today?"
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Sometimes quiet is good.
She will, however, tilt her head very slightly once she's able to catch his gaze.
Should she move over?
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And then, after a second, she adds, "The plums are very good."
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