storybroken | [event: flashback]

[Will had been watching this entire fiasco with a sigh and rolling his eyes every so often as his uncle-cousin and the prince Robin brought with him did their stupid drinking contest. Once both men were down for the count, Will made his way over to Robin, moving his mug out of the way before picking the younger man up and carrying him in his arms almost with ease.

He glances over at the sleeping prince before looking around for someone. When he spots him, he gestures with his head in a "come here" movement.]

Little John, I'll take care of Robin and put him away for the night while you can take care of his royal drunkenness over there. We'll need to keep an eye on him, so perhaps a night in the mud at the center of camp is the best place for him.

[There are a few grins and chuckles from the surrounding men, but Will's already heading over to Robin's tent with Robin still in hand. He's got to make sure his arm is okay before he can let his cousin continue on sleeping, of course. Will knows that whatever Little John decides to do with the prince will be good enough and keep him from trying to cause trouble.]

[ Little John grins widely at the suggestion. ]

I like the way you think, Will.

[ He moves to unfasten James' sword and hand it off to another man, then pulls the prince carefully up over his shoulder. The man isn't injured, nor is he family, and so the potato sack treatment is what he gets. (James should be glad he isn't being dragged out.) John moves near to the center of the camp, where the area can be seen from almost any angle, and sets James down in the center. It's the best way to keep him from running off without being noticed. John does, however, retrieve a spare blanket to spread over the man haphazardly before going to check on the cousins.

Robin, for what it's worth, only lets out an instinctual whimper as his arm is jostled and pressed lightly against Will's chest. He doesn't wake, and the pain soon settles into the oblivion of the ale. Whatever hiccups or coughs that come are softened by the archer's quiet breathing. Although he's pretty far gone, when Will begins to treat his arm, crusted with dirt earned over the day and night, he reacts, gasping and trying to struggle to awareness. ]

[As if James is going anywhere until at least morning. He hardly even reacts to being picked up, except to sigh and shift a bit when John sets him down, and then instinctively grip his blanket when it's thrown over him. He is very heavily asleep, in case they didn't notice.

[So he doesn't really notice that he's sleeping in the middle of the camp on the hard ground, right next to the patch of what would be mud if there'd been any rainfall. As it is, if he rolls over at any time during the night he's going to wind up in it. Though that's likely going to be the least of his worries when he wakes up.]

[With Robin's arm in hand, Will was trying to be as gentle as he could while still cleaning and taking care of it in a precise and quick manner. When Robin starts to stir, a hand gets placed on Robin's chest gently for a moment to try and let him know that he's not getting attacked in his drunken stupor.]

There's no reason to panic, uncle. It is only me. I'm merely fixing that scratch the princeling decided to see fit to give you. There are rumours floating around about him and I'll have to share them with you when you're actually aware of it. Can't have you missing out on good information when you can hear it at a later time.

[But that doesn't stop him from going on about little things around the camp that happened while Robin was out finding himself a prince to play with. While he continues speaking, he finishes up bandaging Robin's arm and makes sure to get him settled in bed so he won't wake up later in too much pain.]

--And I believe that should be it for you, uncle. I'll see you when I wake up in the morning. With some of my hangover cure for you and your princeling.

[So he'll leave Robin's tent and go do whatever he needs to do until Robin and James wake up with terrible headaches and he has to make them hangover cures.]

[ At the sound of Will's voice, the touch of his hand, Robin begins to settle. Words themselves have no meaning in his deep sleep, but the cadence of safety coming from someone he recognizes and trusts allows him to stop struggling.

He doesn't know the situation, yet his arm hurts and that should be enough to prod him awake; Will's presence is all that keeps him calm, reminders of a time when they were younger, when they had so much less to worry about. It's... nice, and Robin's breathing turns even, contented that Will is obviously ahead of the game again. ]

[James is oblivious to it all. To everything. Even when the dawn comes and the camp starts to wake up, James remains fast asleep on the edge of the mud-puddle, hand curled loosely in the edge of the blanket and face resting against his other palm.

[It's not until it's getting on to midday and the sunlight starts shining through the canopy that James begins to stir. It beams in his eyes and he instinctively frowns against it, turning to try and avoid the light; but he can't get away from it, and the discomfort drags him out of sleep. Not that wakefulness is somewhere he wants to be anyway, because once he reaches it all he can feel is his aching body and throbbing head, and with a groan he rolls over, putting his head in his hand as if that will help stop the hangover.

[He doesn't notice the fact that he is now technically lying in a dried-up mud-puddle. Or that he's in the middle of a camp. Let him wake up first pls.]

[Somehow, Will has impeccable timing on starting to make his hangover cure because he notices James is starting to wake when he's getting everything in his small pot to mix together and let sit for a few minutes. Once it's mixed, he walks over to the prince and nudges him with a foot, possibly attempting to roll him over.]

It looks like you've returned to the land of the living, princeling. I'll have something for your hangover in a few minutes, but until then, get yourself woken up fully so we can have ourselves a nice little chat until Robin wakes up.

[The sound and sudden nudge makes James flinch and moan, and he gropes automatically for the hilt of his sword. When he can't find it he cracks his eyes open and looks blearily up at the man standing over him, squinting and shading his face against the sunlight.]

Wha ...?

[His voice comes out croaky and he makes a face, suddenly certain there's fuzz growing on his tongue. Surely that would explain the dryness in his mouth. Even so, he manages to lever himself onto his elbows and squint at his surroundings--which is when it finally sinks in that he is, yes, in the middle of a camp, without a tent in sight. And that there's a mud-puddle beside him. And under him.

[He's cognizant enough to know that he'll feel embarrassed later, but right now his head hurts too much for him to care. It takes another minute but he manages to sit up, still holding his head, and focusses on one phrase.]

Hangover medicine?

[Letting out an annoyed sigh, Will waits impatiently for James to sit up so he can speak to him properly. This would be the part where we say Will is a polite host, but lol this is the guy who had James be dumped into a mud puddle.]

Yes, hangover medicine, but you'll have to wait a couple minutes until it's finished. Now, until then, you're going to be answering my questions.

[Hey, cut him a break, Will, He's got the hangover of all hangovers! Pressing a hand to his face, James takes a deep slow breath, trying to centre his mind through the pound in his head and the roll of his stomach. What does become clear is that he's apparently going to get interrogated while he's hungover, and despite himself he feels a ripple of incredulous amusement.]

May I at least have a hand out of the mud first?

[There's a moment where it seems like Will is considering the pros and cons of assisting him, but he eventually holds his hand out so James can take it to help himself up. He's not a complete dick, after all, and he has yet to find any proof to outright hate him.]

Now why don't you tell me who you are and what you're doing here? I know you're a prince; your horse gave that away quite easily.

Thank you.

[James manages to not need to lean on Will to steady himself once he's up, but he still closes his eyes and keeps very still so he can orientate himself and stop his head from spinning. Then he opens them and gives Will an odd look, his eyes a bit tight with the headache.]

So did Little John. My name is James; my father's the king of Lakesee. But before I answer much more than that, I'd like to be able to sit down. Which one's your tent?

I don't have a tent I sleep up in a tree. It's better for spotting unwanted guests. There just so happens to be a seat over where I'm making my hangover cure. Come along, princeling.

[Thankfully, Will is going to be somewhat nice and help James over to an old battered chair set up next to the bubbling pot hanging over a small fire. Best not to look at what's in there, James.]

[Princeling? James shakes his head in bemusement, then sways and has to lean on the other man with his eyes half closed. He gropes for the chair and sinks into it with a sigh, leaning back and resting his head against his hand. Only for a moment, though; he uses it to gather his wits, and then straightens up properly in the chair and looking toward Will.

[There's not much more than the crinkle around his eyes to indicate he has a headache at all; he's dealt with affairs of state with hangovers before. They're just ... not fun.]

You know who I am. As for what I'm doing here, I ... believe I told Robin last night that I'm here on my father's behalf to see whether Prince John is someone our kingdom wants to deal with.

[Once he's sure James isn't going to tip out of the chair, Will goes over to the pot to make sure everything's coming together right. He's positioned so he can look at James while he works, though he seems to be ignoring him for the most part.

There's a long period of silence, but then Will breaks it, not looking up from his work as he speaks.]

Well, I suppose that all depends on the sort of people your kingdom wants to deal with. Does your kingdom want to deal with a prince who steals the throne while his brother is away at war? Or perhaps someone who taxes his people into starvation and thievery while he lives in luxury up in the castle? If either are the case, princeling, then your kingdom's picked the right person to deal with.

But from what I've heard, your kingdom doesn't tend to ally itself with those who cause suffering.

[James is patient and he's already contending with the morning after. He leans back in the chair and closes his eyes, focussing on his breathing and the sounds of the camp, and it seems as if the throb dulls a bit. Will's voice is almost jarring, but James opens his eyes, squinting a bit with the sunlight.]

You're well informed. No, that's not the kind of ruler we want to be allying ourselves with, but from the outside Prince John makes himself seem very appealing. The best way to learn what a kingdom is truly like is to visit it.

[Thankfully, Will isn't trolling yet and hasn't raised his voice. Mostly because he doesn't want to bother any of the other men nearby with their conversation.]

Information gathering is what I do, along with fighting, but the latter is unimportant at the moment. [Note that stealing is something he doesn't mention.] I'm sure if Prince John knows of your arrival to the kingdom, he would take measures to hide the fact he's draining his lands of money and resources. But you look to be a clever one when you aren't challenging Robin with childish contests. Perhaps you can share what you know of us bandits and whether you would believe our side of the story about our kingdom or not.

That is why I made sure he wouldn't know.

[Will had a good eye to peg nobility from James's horse; the prince had gone to effort to make sure his dress and manner wouldn't draw the attention of Prince John's people. He just ... hadn't realised the health of his own mount would stand out so much. James closes his eyes again to block out the sun and pull his thoughts together, managing to squash the brief flicker of amused irritation.]

I can tell you what I've heard in the taverns on my way. I can tell you the state of the fields and the homesteads I passed, but I don't think I need to. At first I ... hoped ... that the circumstances were similar to the one in my own kingdom, but taverns are always the best place to find out the true feeling of the people, aren't they?

[He opens his eyes and smiles rather weakly at Will, the expression at least partly because of his pounding head. His smile fades quickly, however.]

I don't like what I heard. A good ruler doesn't inspire that sort of bitterness. Even a merely competent ruler doesn't.

[Will doesn't say anything until James finishes speaking and then gives him a genuine smile.]

Well, aren't you a clever one, Prince Dragonslayer? Since you're so clever even while suffering through a hangover, let me ask you this: since we are rather well known around these parts and you have studied, which one of Robin's merry men am I?

[At first James smiles back, rather relieved to be offering something that seemed sincere, but then the nickname of 'Dragonslayer' makes the smile freeze and drop away entirely. It was odd, really; he'd gotten used to the 'prince', but he still hadn't gotten used to the 'dragonslayer', even though that was the only part of it he'd actually done himself. He looks away, swallowing hard, then takes a deep breath and looks back.

[Then he studies Will carefully, turning over the rumours he'd heard and placing them against the actions of the man in front of him. James knew how to get people to talk; he was amiable enough and knew how the tavern gossip worked. It was sometimes as useful as market gossip. He just didn't quite have enough to tell for certain--or maybe that was the fault of the hangover. Still, he can pin it down to three, and three out of what must be nearly a hundred is still greatly reduced.]

I can think of a few possibilities. Will Scarlet or Will Stutley, or perhaps David of Doncaster?

[There's not much surprise at it being narrowed down that far. Will knows quite well that there are few like him among Robin's men and is glad for it or he probably never would have joined his uncle-cousin in the first place. He frowns slightly at the name Will Stutely, but beyond that, Will is actually quite adept at keeping his face from showing any emotion at the names.]

My name is among the three you named, but I'll not share which is mine. That's for you to figure out in time.

[Well, that's frustrating. James examines him a bit more, eyes narrowed against the sunlight. Before he was focussing on the man's face and demeanour; now he focussed on the clothes, squinting a bit. Red scarf, red stockings ...]

Will Scarlet. Why the subterfuge?

[The first is said with confidence that belies any uncertainty James might be feeling interally. The second is a bit more tentatively, confused.]

[And that gains James another genuine smile from Will, with a bit of amusement tossed in for good measure.]

Speak to some and they would reply that you answered your own question with my name.

[Which is both not an answer at all and enough of one, even though James has to frown and puzzle it out a bit before shrugging. Subterfuge isn't something he's had any call for until recently.

[The shrug makes his head throb a bit harder, enough to make him wince, and he casts a glance at the pot.]

I don't suppose that's ready yet ...?

[He only hopes it's anything like his mother's recipe.]

[Will takes a ladle and stirs the concoction a bit, watching it bubble menacingly. He grabs a mug and starts to ladle some of the hangover cure into it, the liquid a foul green color. The stuff looked toxic, with dark foam pouring over the edge of the mug as the liquid fizzles and hisses while steam floats from it. Once Will seems to be content with the amount in the mug, he steps over to James to hand it to him.]

It is ready now, young princeling. You won't find a better cure for your hangover than this in all the lands.

[event: flashback]

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