Drawing his stool close by the Prince, Kris turned his ear to Falstaff’s tale, starting to smirk. “His count of men does keep growing by leaps and bounds,” he whispered to Harry, gesturing for his cup to be refilled. “Does he ever tell truth?”
Hal had called again for Francis, coming to rush by shouting ‘Anon, anon, my lord!’ which had caused for the prince to laugh along with Falstaff’s tale. Francis had poured the wine just so that it had barely spilled over. Falstaff and his tongue of lead had spoken at a soft voice, sure to crescendo at the most alarming of scenes. Poins had come to point him out sometimes, laughing along with the others that still roared.
“Oh yes, they come to laugh at the farce tales we put off, the flustered expressions of the men—most notably Bardolph, he was red faced ever since he was caught in the act!” He replied with a mischievous grin. “His tales are always most false; the cuts in his sword, the holes in his tattered clothes..the marks of dirt on their faces from the falls they took..!”
“A bit cruel, to always make mock of him so, but he does seem to invite it.” Kris tossed back his third cup of ale, trying to decide if he was drinking too much. Did a male body have different tolerances than a female one? His taste buds seemed different, anyway; the ale was really good.
Kris took it, drinking deep. “My deepest thanks, sweet prince! What more here? All the folk seem right merry!”
Hal laughed heartily, seeing that Kris had changed his place of dialect only so slightly. “What more here? Come, to the center as the old and mad wag, Falstaff tells his tale of triumph, where Poins and I have watched him fall beneath the bushes of the forest..” He said in a quick but quiet tone, again to lean over to the man, drinking well enough.
Drawing his stool close by the Prince, Kris turned his ear to Falstaff’s tale, starting to smirk. “His count of men does keep growing by leaps and bounds,” he whispered to Harry, gesturing for his cup to be refilled. “Does he ever tell truth?”
“You’re well-loved here,” Kris murmured. He found an empty stool and sat back to watch.
Hal had nodded again once, glancing at him as he sat on the wooden stool as he went to order a man by the name of ‘Francis’ to come forth to fetch the sack and pots of ale. He grinned widely, others slapping each other on their backs roaring with the laughter of drunkards as the young prince stepped back to Kris.
“A cup of ale, my sweet honey lord?” He jested, with a laugh, handing one cup of ale to him.
Kris took it, drinking deep. “My deepest thanks, sweet prince! What more here? All the folk seem right merry!”
Having to duck into a door was a new experience. Walking into the wall of sound was normal, though. Kris had to pause while Hal was greeted enthusiastically by what appeared to be all the tavern’s staff and half the folk gathered there. He chuckled. “More than favourite, it seems, H-Harry.”
Hal had laughed more easy going having entered, patting the backs of the worn leather and clothed men and women—tavern being a legitimate business as well as an illegal house of prostitution. “More that it seems, the people here are drunken with bad ale, sparkled with lime..they are most always like this unless wise to leave.” He smirked, leaning towards Kris to whisper, straightening himself back again to greet the others that crowded with rowdy and heartfilled laughter.
“You’re well-loved here,” Kris murmured. He found an empty stool and sat back to watch.
“I’m just trying to make sure I don’t offend you. Proper respect and all that.”
“I see, then that is well. Pray tell, if you drink, may you accompany me to the tavern? Else, with your customs I know not of.”
“Tavern sounds like fun. Sure, do you have a favourite tavern?”
“Yea, there is one down of Eastcheap.” Hal stands up with a silent breath, sauntering off down the dirt path, occasionally to look back to him if he’d follow. The young lord picked up his pace to go to the tavern, knocking the wooden door, the hostess letting him in, Hal kept open the door for Kris with the side of his foot, beckoning him inside.
Having to duck into a door was a new experience. Walking into the wall of sound was normal, though. Kris had to pause while Hal was greeted enthusiastically by what appeared to be all the tavern’s staff and half the folk gathered there. He chuckled. “More than favourite, it seems, H-Harry.”
The redhead blinks a couple times. “Prince. Right. Should I be kneeling, or something?”
“Kneeling? What must you do such things? Is it a custom for you to do this in such mannerisms? By Lord, this realm has my mind bound by heavy vines of the grape yards..”
“I’m just trying to make sure I don’t offend you. Proper respect and all that.”