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Is this your first time having beetroot? It leaves behind such a horrible, red stain in my mouth it is so borderline cruel. But this restaurant - well, they are renowned for their beetroot salads and beetroot this and their beetroot somethings - menacing times. It’s like how I used to use honey for everything; even trying to get my hangover meds in. Difficult to get it down without. More wine? I can’t really — very strong, very pungent.
The only time I’ve ever had this was during a minister’s wedding. Three cheers after the whole -oh no. Well, this is a sorry sight, isn’t it? They’ve shined the spoons far too well. I can’t think of anything but — does my mouth still look red? No, I already look like a fool, I will look even more so if I ask for some more water — okay, now you are just flattering me. I’m flattered. I thought you Americans were stiff with your compliments - no? That’s your way of flirting, isn’t it? Invoking fate, your Gods, your sarcasm.
It is ridiculous, Nora. It is so unpleasant to have a thousand eyes staring at me. It feels like they have caught me red-handed, it feels like I have done something wrong. Are people looking at me — oh thank God.
A toast. To not meeting people’s eyes.
Can I say ‘Amen’? It would feel unholy coming out of my mouth. Do they know I’m not - surprise, surprise, a fan of fratricide? Or are they not up to speed, yet? Amen? Okay. Amen — haha- Amen! Let’s do it.
Beautiful view outside. Mother used to tell me that even seawater wouldn’t be able to clean my throat because it is the purest form of water there is. Ancient saying, but — perhaps not with the times, for sure, but — ancient’s — well, ancient and— that is a fantastic view. Slows down everything for a considerable amount of time — what is that? Oh. Oh. Right. I suppose it could be interpreted that way, but mostly it was to indicate you were too far gone. “Not even the heat of the hearth will warm your soul, not even the darkest of seas will cleanse your tongue.” — well, I’m not too far gone —
— a murderer of a good night’s rest, a harbinger of destruction.
What?
I didn’t say anything. Oh that was — I don’t know. Haven’t really talked about myself. Vogue usually — does that for me.
Oh. Well. There is nothing but um, well, nothing back at home.
Not that I don’t enjoy talking about Dad, for example. He talks your ear off; perhaps you two should chat — no I — well, I have met your fa- people, obviously. I am just maybe, a little sorry, you didn’t have a proper introduction. Partly my fault. Maybe. I mean, detectives, murderers, the line does blur a little — ouch! I thought we were past that stage when we took offense to calling each other — listen, I do love a good joke but — it is flirting! Flirtiiiiiing. No, no, no that is just straight-up name-calling now. And now that is just - you are ruining the vibe, Nora. God you are going to give me nightmares with that stuff - existential nightmares. No, you’re exaggerating.
It is. It is.
God, this is childish. I hate this.
Are you enjoying - that? Oh God, same. I don’t know what it is about this and why people love this so much.
Can we skip past this course, chief nourisher, my fucking foot, and get to dessert?
What? No. I — just because I am “a royal” that doesn’t mean I need to enjoy these - gastronomical pursuits. It isn’t part of my roster of requirements.
Okay- ha- what?
Maybe I have put a ring in your drink-slash-dessert, hm?
I’m joking! Joking!
Would you hate it? No, but like - it is just a thought.
I don’t know. I have seen films where it is almost like a rite of passage for you people - no, I haven’t, you can take a sip. Seriously.
Weddings are like a cage to me. I feel quite strongly about them. It is a deed I must be worthy of, if that makes sense - and perhaps I am not quite there yet. It is sickly to be thinking about it in such a - vapid way, but the rings I wear now - they are there, with me, right?
Perhaps they have seen me say such clotted, sickly things - hold them in like, the palm of my hands. To have a wedding ring also share such a hand would be impure. I can’t just like, pray, I would have to wash it all off - something not even the ocean would like — care for - about me.
I haven’t written verses in a long time. All those hours of — English classes and —
I hope someday, some miracle happens and you understand Drakovian, like poof, and — because I feel like - there are a lot of things I can say, and I can’t say and — English — can I trust you with this?
Okay now that is just rude - okay.
Ha. Ha. Ha. Fuck you too.
I will admit your sense of humour is — objectively, um, I would laugh but me being the expense of your little jokey-joke - you are funny when you aren’t all wound-up like an um, anxious ball python.
Is it too bad I want nice things to happen without any questions? I’m afraid to think what I’ve done, you know? Just really, really - this kind of deep-seated fear? So I’m constantly, sort of, feeling rejuvenated. Dips in Styx. So maybe - yeah— yeah, maybe nice things are in the cards..? Not even to me, to be honest, just — really good things all around. It’s such a bad, really fucked-up time to be an optimist.
Does my mouth still look pink?
Somebody’s murdered something on my plate.
Do you think in an alternate universe, under different circumstances we would have actually liked each other without all of this um, forced.. foreplay?
Do you —think oh, dessert’s here. Can we get some more water, please? And maybe a couple extra spoons? Thank you. Oh - we don’t — they will give us extra utensils, Nora, they — you don’t have to use the same knife, well - can I get an extra? Just one, yeah. Thank you, again.
Your tongue’s going to turn all red and pink and — God I am such a child. It was quite nice, honestly. Like erm, it was really fresh and beautiful and all that. I guess it is going to take me some time to get used to this amorous vegetable. Amorous doesn’t mean — now you’re making up words. Okay, fine.
It felt nice - no, perhaps — I did write a ton of poetry in English, remember? Now I regret all of it - no, you don’t have to offer comfort - it was regrettable and - they’re just tapestries of a lost childhood; inert, listless pictures.
I think I can kill it if I wasn’t so afraid of it.
But it is a part of me, there.
Killing it would mean I’m, like - feeble — devoid of purpose - technically. Who am I but this weird little actor with my own little production? A scared child meeting the eyes of the Devil. I can’t kill it, much less face it. Would you?
I feel like I can say a lot of things without ever meaning anything, smearing gold all over, splattering it like blood, like it is supposed to mean something.
‘Risotto d’oro con basilica e parmagiano’. Next time, we are getting this instead. Risotto d’oro con ba— no, I’m not “showing off”. It would be fucked up if I’m doing this to just woo you. No, I took many hours of language classes to —
Are you impressed?
Do you think you would have liked me better if I was someone else? This is just me being — I thought you would like the honesty! Isn’t that your whole thing, to be all truthful, seeker of the truth— the- well, maybe the facts were wrong - no, I didn’t do - I don’t do “homework”.
It’s just been a long time since I’ve had this opportunity to like, sit down and — yeah. I’m very low-key with this kind of stuff. I tend to bend some truths a lot, um. The - tabloids, they do most of the work, but — perhaps Mother was right. Moments when I am a little bit honest about my hopes and dreams, they’re stuffed back inside for more like, comfortable lies, if that makes sense? Mother was right. Not even the Gods of the seas can cleanse my teeth.
I think you tend to forget what you become. I think in one way, I’d hate to admit it but — we’re the same—
No, not because — argh - no. It’s like - we’re the same but also really different and we are — not really people. I’m just lost in thought, in this really pathetic way. I dunno - it’s like I said, you give me nightmares, Nora. It’s really fucked, I don’t want to dream of you dying all the time. It’s so fucked up. I don’t want to dream about you or the Crown or - anything at all. For once in my life, I would really appreciate a sound sleep.
Of course I dream about that too. No, I don’t — should I, though? It isn’t like, it’s some kind of a sign, right? A crown’s but a piece of metal, rusts overtime, frail and almost always, not enough.
Nothing serious about a crown, anyway - all toys and playthings and stand-ins. Can you imagine if I were royalty and I just have my Crown around in, like the kitchen and everything - would you put your gu— would your uncle put his gun next to where they keep all the bottles of wine and beer?
I hate it here so much. Maybe I shouldn’t think too much, but it’s — just so difficult. It’s mortal, but in this immortal way. Will your uncle trust anyone but you to continue his business forward— no, you can’t sell the Crown, Nora, Lord. If I had a chance, I would have years ago. Thrown it in the sea so all the blood can be soaked up; that there’s nobody else to wear it. I’d have killed it, you know? I feel like I have enough anger to do so. But I won’t regret that.
Is it not another form of love? Getting rid of the poison? Another form of loyalty? I would not wear the Crown at all if it means nobody else can have it. I’d do it. I would have done it right then and there, but — maybe— I don’t know. How is it like in your line of work? Does someone do it because they love you so much or is it like, something else?
I’m going crazy, haha. I’m sorry.
Do you like — today? Did you like it?
I feel like this is just — a prelude. We don’t have to consider today for the books, you know? Tomorrow, we could go to one of yours and - actually, really enjoy it. No, I did. I loved today.
I love you.
I think we should go out again.