A walk, a cuppa, and a bit of conversation; Closed RP for Robin and Lizzy

[robinthepuck.livejournal.com]

For the tenth time in the same number of minutes Robin checked his appearance in the mirror. His owl exchange with Elizabeth Bennet had somehow disintegrated from his intended search for an opening to bring up Mr. Darcy - and, perhaps, give true love a bit of a push - into his blatant and horrifyingly unrestrained flirting.

Passing his hand over his face, he gave his reflection a rueful stare. "You're in over your head, Puck," he grumbled. "Stop trying to playing Cupid. Meet the lady, have a nice cup of tea, and then forget her. Forget the whole lot of them."

He shook himself, attempting to lose his meloncholy mood, attempting to ignore the unfamiliar feeling of nervous delight clenching his stomach every time he allowed his mind to wander onto Elizabeth Bennet. He was a Puck, for Bacchus' sake. This mere slip of a girl was nothing more than a nice piece of ass or an amusing bit of conversation. What the hell was wrong with him - acting like a fucking human teenager with no control over his emotions. He entertained, he enticed, he enthralled; he bedded and bewildered and raised hell. He did not have mushy feelings.

Nodding to himself, completely pushing the fact that his heart was pounding and his hands shaking slightly aside, Robin made his way down to the common room to meet Elizabeth. This was just an opportunity for a nice jaunt out in the fresh air. Nothing more.

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[fine-eyes-lizzy.livejournal.com]

Elizabeth was waiting in the common room, warmly dressed (http://www.austen.com/costumes/pp5.jpg), though she'd yet to put on her bonnet, and sporting the hair combs (http://www.byrddesigns.com/images/combs/big/961.jpg) that Robin had sent her. She was absently perusing one of the letters he'd sent her, still not entirely over how freely men and women exchanged letters at Hogwarts. Lizzy was also slightly puzzled as to why Robin had sent her hair combs. She was delighted with them, but terribly unsure as to what the were supposed to mean.

She glanced up over the letter and spotted Robin. "Mr. Goodfellow! I trust you are well, sir, and ready to leave?" Lizzy tucked the letter into the pocket of her spenser, after telling herself that adding poetry at the end of a missive did not hint at any tender feelings on the writer's part. She had always been of the opinion that one good sonnet could drive away love forever, if it was written properly.

[robinthepuck.livejournal.com]

At the bottom of the stairs, Robin caught sight of Lizzy and stopped for a moment, his breath quite literally gone. She was so lovely. Not a beautiful that conventional wisdom would ascribe, rather something in the way her head tilted when she spoke, or her lips quirked up into a smile, or her eyes sparkled. Something about the way she carried herself, her very presence... Well, it was easy to see why Darcy was in love with her.

Darcy was in love with her. Shit. Swallowing hard, Robin forced his wayward thoughts back in line. All well and good to admire the form of a woman. Hell, he'd been doing it since women had forms to admire. A bit of a lustful thought, a sly innuendo, a quick flash of skin - these were how he operated. They were his comfort zone. The way a Puck related to mortals. 'Love' was for humans, fucking for Pucks. That's the way it worked.

For some reason, though, lustful thoughts didn't arise when he looked at Elizabeth. Not that he wasn't attracted - his staccato heartbeat and the butterflies beating their way out of his stomach proved quite nicely that an attraction was there - but whenever he tried to picture sweet Lizzy beneath the sheets he wound up thinking of long conversations or quiet dinners or her hand in his....

Bah! Quite disgusted with himself - and not a small bit disturbed - Robin mentally shook all of that off. He needed to get out more. He was turning all sorts of soft and squishy and he needed to just stop.

When Elizabeth called his name his heart did most certainly not give a small leap; he quite smoothly smiled at her and made his way to her side. Chocolate brown corduroy pants, a deep green shirt, and a long tan duster were all chosen to make him look a gentleman - non-threatening, a friend you have tea with. Not a suitor. Most assuredly not that.

"My dear Miss Bennet," he bowed, taking her hand and gently bringing it to his lips. "I am quite well, now. And am very much looking forward to our outing." His eyes danced and he grinned at her, straightening and holding out his arm.

And if she had asked about the combs, he could not have answered. All he knew was he had seen them in a shop whilst about his business and immediately thought of her. Before he knew what was happening he'd been standing on the streets of London with a small bag clutched in one hand and a bewildered smile on his face.

Robin was usually very much in control of his emotions, of what he was doing, of everything. For the past week or so this had not been the case. Now, pulling a small white rosebud from his pocket and presenting it to Lizzy with a decidedly bashful and very genuine smile, the Puck absently wondered what the hell he was doing. He needed to get control. He needed...

"Shall we, then?"

Shit.

[fine-eyes-lizzy.livejournal.com]

((Robin's so adorable!))

Elizabeth blushed and accepted the rose with a laugh. "I thank you, sir! I shall grow quite spoiled with all the gifts that you shower upon me." She touched one of the hair combs and smiled up at him, rather touched by his gesture, and his blush. "But I do thank you, sir. I cannot hope to repay your kindness." Lizzy accepted his arm, and added, "Or your gallantry. I shall be delighted, sir. On we go!"

She awkwardly put her bonnet on, as she was holding the rosebud in one hand, and Robin's arm with the other, and smiled again. Rather playfully, Lizzy continued, "And I find myself once more at a decided disadvantage. Where are we going, my dear Mr. Goodfellow? What delights lie in store?"

[robinthepuck.livejournal.com]

((He's something, that's for sure. :p And he's only adorable because of Lizzy's inherent coolness. I just wish I knew what in the world he was up to. Although, I think he feels the same way. XD))

"Oh, come now," he grinned widely at her. "A few baubles are scarcely enough to turn your head. Though you flatter me to think I might do so. I simply..." here he hesitated, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. "I simply enjoy seeing you smile," he finished after a beat, his eyes locked on hers for a moment before he looked away, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his smile.

Unconsciously he reached out with his free hand to help her with her bonnet. His thumb brushed against her cheek and he swallowed hard, a faint flush once again touching his face before he pulled back and resumed a teasing expression. "Ah, my dear, what fun would it be to tell you what to expect?" He lead the way out of the common room and down towards the Great Hall. "Better to take each moment as it comes - to treasure it, to devour it whole and wring it dry of the pleasure and enticements it has to offer. To look ahead, to fret about what may come, to plan and plot and conjecture..." he shook his head soberly, eyes dancing. "Such a way is not for you, my dear Miss Bennet. No, you are are not a plodding donkey beside the plow, whose days are planned with an exacting hand. You are a dove, with the wind beneath you and the sky spread out before you, free to go where you may and land wherever you might."

Grinning at her, a boyish light in his eyes, he chuckled. "Trust me, my dear, life is something that cannot be planned more than one footstep ahead. Too much is uncertain, too many wonders can unfold before your very eyes. If you plan too much, you may miss them."

They had arrived at the doors of the Great Hall, which Robin opened with a gesture from his wand and a muttered spell. A few things he'd learned in his time here, and all of them useful. Then he, with Elizabeth on his arm, made his way out into the sunshine. "And now, fair lady, it comes to the point where I confess a burning desire to hear you speak on your life before this place. I recall you writing to your sister, Jane, yes? Is she your only sibling?"

[fine-eyes-lizzy.livejournal.com]

Elizabeth blushed as he helped her with her bonnet. She must have been imagining it, but she swore that, when his thumb accidentally brushed her cheek, he blushed as well.

The action reminded her of her walk with Simkin, prompting a further, confused blush on Lizzy's part. Her feelings about Simkin were a jumbled mess. She liked him a great deal and he apparently liked her (he kissed her, after all), but there was something very dangerous about magic (as Lizzy had discovered when trying out a charm and setting a table on fire instead) and, as the personification of magic, it seemed that Simkin, too, could have something of a dangerous side. She remembered phrases he'd said that could be interpreted in a variety of ways, and, by now more than a little frightened, Lizzy pushed all such thoughts aside. She was to enjoy Robin's company for a walk, and then tea, and she had every expectation of enjoyment. Mr. Goodfellow was charming and considerate, and if he had a darker side, Lizzy had yet to see it.

Besdies that, there was something very appealing in his thoughtfulness, and all his little gestures and gifts.

She smiled up at him and laughed, as they exited the castle. "My dear Mr. Goodfellow, you give me far too much credit! I will freely confess that I have always considered myself vivacious, and do take pleasure in life, but, all the same sir, I doubt that I am half so free as you would think." Lizzy shook her head, amused. "And you continue this horrible trend by assuming my life before this place holds any interest. But I shall satisfy your curiosity, if that is what you desire. I am the second eldest of five sisters. Jane is the eldest, and the beauty of the family. She is all sweetness and kindness and I often wish myself more like her. Then there's Mary, who has found a niche in moralizing, then Kitty, and Lydia, who, I am sorry to say, are two of the silliest girls in England. I lived at my father's estate, Longbourne, which is near Meryton, and I am afraid that I can think of no other item of interest." She smiled up at him, wryly. "And I daresay that you are now quite sorry you asked. I could further bore you by telling you that I was in Kent before I came here, visiting my dear friend Charlotte Collins, who is married to my cousin, but I fear I will, by then, have lost your interest entirely, and you will regret having ever asked me to join you on a walk."

[robinthepuck.livejournal.com]

Lizzy's blushes were driving him mad. Normally he would know quite well what might cause a young virgin in his company to flush most becomingly - usually it was his words or his hands or his lips that were behind it. But these blushes were something quite different. An unknown quantity. And they both made him want to grin like an idiot and run away as quickly as he could.

He settled, instead, for simply storing away that image of her in his mind's eye. For what reason and purpose he refused to contemplate, even with himself. Perhaps it was the knowledge that all he would have of her - all he would allow himself of her - would be a few stolen memories.

Bah. Maudlin thoughts of deep feelings when he had a lovely woman on his arm? He was a disgrace. Pulling himself back to Elizabeth, he listened to her talk of her family with great interest. Absently, his free hand went to rest lightly atop of the one Elizabeth had through his arm - for the sole purpose of steadying her as they traversed the uneven path, of course.

"Nay," he smiled down at her, "in fact, your protests only serve to convince me further. When you've lived as long as I have, dear Miss Bennet, you find that most humans live amazingly small lives. And not out of necessity - simply out of a fear to enjoy what might be. I've known men who have traveled the world a thousand times over and have no concept of the wonders they've witnessed. I've also known women who have never left the village of their birth who have a greater sense of awe and imagination than a hundred others might dream of. You, my dear," he looked at her, eyes catching hers and his expression intent, "underestimate your own brilliance."

Then, blinking, he glanced away, a faintly embarrassed expression on his face. What was he doing? Robin shook his head slightly and laughed merrily at her protests. "Ah, the simple country life. How I miss it. And do not deny your sisters the opportunity to be silly, Miss Bennet. Some find it a passable occupation in life. I'm sure that any relative of yours, however, will have more sense than most. Kent, though, is lovely countryside. I have not been there in a number of years, but I still hold an estate in Maidstone."

They had reached Hogsmeade, in the meanwhile, and Robin gently lead Elizabeth towards a small tea house tucked away in between a book shop and a potions supply store. "A good friend of mine, a Miss Lily Evans, told me of this place. She claims they have the best tea this side of London. We shall have to put her boast to the test."

The cafe was warm and inviting - a gentle fire roaring away in an old stone fireplace, a few wooden tables scattered about, all covered with brightly-colored cloth and set with antique brass candlesticks. Robin escorted Elizabeth to a table near the window, holding out the woman's chair and waiting for her to be seated.

[fine-eyes-lizzy.livejournal.com]

Elizabeth laughed, to diffuse the praise. "And you, sir, overestimate it. I thank you though. I am highly sensible of the compliment, particularly from someone whom has seen as much of humanity as yourself."

She smiled brilliantly at his opinion on country life, however. "I am glad that it meets your approval, sir! I find Kent to be quite enjoyable. I was very fond of walking on the grounds around Rosings Park, where I staid. I cannot confess to ever having set foot in Maidstone, but we drove though on the way to Rosings, and I thought it very pretty indeed."

They reached the tea house, and Lizzy was instantly delighted with what she saw. She sat, with a murmured word of thanks, and removed her bonnet, careful not to dislodge her hair combs. His gallantry was rewarded with a charming smile that was half sweet and half arch.

"Mr. Goodfellow, I thought Miss Evans to have wonderful taste, and I feel this only cements the opinion. This place is delightful!" Elizabeth cast an admiring eye on the furnishings before turning to Mr. Goodfellow, her eyes alight with pleasure. "I thank you for taking me here. I like it very much."

[robinthepuck.livejournal.com]

Filiolus in Olympus, EGO sum perfectus.*

A phrase he hadn't uttered in a thousand years or so; not since he'd faced an army of hellish beings on a frost-glazed battlefield with only a sword in his hand and a mere handful of humans behind him. Somehow, though, in the light of Lizzy's smile, it seemed appropriate.

"Then I owe Miss Evans a debt of gratitude I cannot hope to repay. And it is my deepest pleasure to accompany you, Miss Bennet." He took the seat opposite her just as a Witch walked up with a smile, setting down a tray filled with cakes and sandwiches, along with a teapot and two delicate crystal mugs. Pouring, she placed the cups in front of both Lizzy and Robin, then left.

"Maidstone is a wonderful place, indeed," Robin mused, expertly holding the tiny cup, which, instead of seeming out of place in his masculine hands, complimented him greatly. "One of the first pieces of property I bought after the war." Which war, he neglected to say, instead taking a sip of tea, his eyebrows raising in delight. "And Miss Evans, again, has proven most trustworthy in her recommendation. This tea is wonderful. The house-elves are remarkable creatures, to be sure, but I find that many things are somehow...lacking at their hands."

Setting his cup down in its saucer, he leaned forward slightly, eyes amused. "And, Miss Bennet, when you are not walking the grounds or acting in a sisterly manner, what delights do you find to occupy your time? If I recall, many woman seem to enjoy the piano forte, though most play it most dully."

((*Gods in Heaven, I am done for.))

[fine-eyes-lizzy.livejournal.com]

Lizzy was amused at how Robin seemed so at home with the tea service. She stirred a spoonful of sugar into her own cup and took a sip.

She glanced over the rim of her teacup at him as he leaned forward, before setting the cup down with a smile. "I must agree with both you and Miss Evans. I have never tasted better. But, sir, I shall now be forced to bore you with my list of very lackluster accomplishments. Would you care for a cake first? I must confess a very sincere desire for a scone and clotted cream." She selected one, and offered the tray to him. "I may claim the usual occupations. I sing and play the piano- forte very ill, embroider, also very ill, trim bonnets, not quite so ill, arrange flowers, and read. I must confess an enjoyment of dancing but I prize intelligent conversation above all else."

((Reposted for a typo.))

[robinthepuck.livejournal.com]

"Cake," the Puck said with obvious relish, "is one of the greatest inventions of the human race. A well made dessert covers all manner of sin. Or, in some cases, leads to them." He gave Elizabeth an impish grin, his tone light and teasing, no trace of seduction. Simply a joke, shared between friends.

Helping himself to a ladyfinger, Robin listened to Elizabeth, devouring her words with as much appetite as he showed for the refreshments. "Dancing is one of my passions," the Puck confessed. "And I must admit to now wishing our current location sported musicians so I might enjoy a turn around the dance floor with you. But reading - ah, such is the past time of the scholars and that luminaries. Whom do you enjoy, Miss Bennet?"

[fine-eyes-lizzy.livejournal.com]

Elizabeth had taken a sip of tea before Robin had spoken, and nearly choked on it. She somehow managed to set the cup down and hide her laughter behind her napkin. After a moment she replaced the napkin in her lap and smilingly said, "My dear Mr. Goodfellow, you would lead me to believe that cake has led to some of mankind's greatest tragedies. I have heard of some deserts being 'sinful', but I never before considered such a description to be literal."

She spread clotted cream over her scone with a smile. "I do thank you for your offer, though I doubt that the other diners in the tea room would be particularly happy if we danced a gavotte while they were trying to pour tea. But I am fond of novels, and I do enjoy Shakespeare. There are several philosophers I enjoy, though I leave Fordyce to my sister Mary. And you, sir? What, pray tell, does a Puck do to occupy his free time?"

[robinthepuck.livejournal.com]

"Ah, but my dear Miss Bennet, they have!" Robin said soberly, eyes twinkling in mirth. "You have no idea of the civilizations laid to waste for the want of a good sponge cake. Think of what a perfect tart might have done for the legions of Nero, or a delicious sorbet for the tragedy in Rome. A good cake makes one feel at home, satisfied, comforted. It's hard to harbor ill will when one is confronted with sensations such as those."

At her mention of Shakespeare, Robin chuckled and recited softly:

"Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck;
And yet methinks I have astronomy,
But not to tell of good or evil luck,
Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons' quality;
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,
Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind,
Or say with princes if it shall go well,
By oft predict that I in heaven find:
But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,
And, constant stars, in them I read such art
As truth and beauty shall together thrive,
If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert;
Or else of thee this I prognosticate:
Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date*."

After he'd finished, voice husky by the end, his eyes - which, at somepoint during the sonnet had moved to Lizzy's - dropped and a half-smile that might conceivably been called shy crossed his face. He fiddled for a moment with his cup before clearing his throat and taking a drink.

He leaned back in his chair, once more the easy, charming grin flashing across his face. "The night old William wrote that we were well on our way to becoming most embarrassingly drunk in a small pub outside of Dover. There was a girl there - one of the bar wenches - who caught his fancy. This was, of course, when Willy was young and impetuous." Robin laughed, "Actually, he never quite grew out of that. That boy wrote more love poems and quick flights of fancy for the pleasure and enthrallment of his goddess of the week that the most faithful Romeo ever did pen for his Juliet."

What did a Puck do? Wine and dine young maidens. Drink and debauch. Dance naked in the woods to the tune of a thousand pipes and drums. Generally anything that made him get off, get high, or get intoxicated. A sudden spasm of self-loathing shuddered through him, expertly hidden but there nonetheless. What the hell was he doing? Lizzy was no willing virgin, giggling and gliding through the woods, begging with eyes and pouting lips to be taken. He needed to get himself well in hand, here, before he fucked things up royally.

"A bit of everything," was all he said, smooth and smiling. "Music, art, literature, languages. I spent a few decades perfecting my landscaping. A century or so working as a doctor. And I have a deep, abiding interest in psychology. Philosophy has always caught my attention, as well. Socrates was an intriguing character. We used to have long chats over good wine."

Robin was not at all reminding Elizabeth - reminding himself - that he was Puck, not human. Long-lived didn't even begin to cover it. Continually bringing home that he was older than old, that she was fresh and young and completely off limits. It wasn't often that the Puck would say such a thing about a person, but Elizabeth was in his firmly 'no' list. Perhaps if he kept talking up the fact he'd been toasting the burning of Rome or cavorting about with gods before her precious Meryton had seen a hint of human habitation, he could ignore the way her eyes glittered when she laughed or the perfect way her fingers curled around her mug.

Oh, yeah. That was going to happen.

((*Sonnet 14 (http://www.william-shakespeare.info/william-shakespeare-sonnet-14.htm)))

[fine-eyes-lizzy.livejournal.com]

Elizabeth colored during the Puck's recitation of the sonnet. Was this for her?

She should not read into gestures such as these- Mr. Goodfellow simply seemed to enjoy poetry. Lizzy's tastes ran more to prose, but she did enjoy the occasional sonnet. She smiled brightly at Robin.

"Well, sir, I have always been of the opinion that one good sonnet had the power to drive away romantic feelings altogether. I suppose it has more truth to it than I had previously imagined. I am... slightly surprised that you knew Shakespeare personally. You seem to have formed a very wide circle of acquaintances and have been very fortunate in befriending those who have gained remarkable fame and whose legacies have been tenderly preserved throughout history." She took another sip of tea, then began to search through the remarkable jam selection. "And psychology, sir? Are you a fellow student of character, then?" With a laugh, Lizzy added, "Though I expect your skill in such a field far surpasses my own, since you have had a far longer time to practice. I imagine I should greatly benefit from hearing your method of study."