feast & after-party ♔ empty my heart | i've got to make room for this feeling

[wynn]

♬ Can't Take It In - Imogen Heap

WHO || Wynn, the new Squires, any and all Knights
WHAT || Squiring Ceremony Feast & Afterparty
WHERE || Knights Headquarters, the Dining Hall & Ballroom
WHEN || February 9th, 2012, 7:00PM / 9:00 PM
HOW || Prose OR Actionspam

While every dinner served in the Knights' exceptionally large Dining Hall manages to have a sense of occasion, given the sheer quantity of food necessary to serve the hundreds who take their meals there, the 'feast' Wynn's ordered for after this squiring party outdoes the norm. It's not a problem to produce so much food at the drop of the hat when mages can magically summon up entire banquets, and so the room teems over with the smells and spices of hundreds of unique dishes. Centerpieces built with peacock feathers and sweet smelling flowers dot the table at intervals. A silver cage in the very middle of the table includes several live birds, their feet and tufts each appearing to be silver as well. A banner hangs from the top of the cage, with the Knight's symbol of a black dragon on a silver field.

The food has a distinctly medieval flair to it today, which several of the older Shadowkind Knights express their boisterous appreciation for as they dive in. The first course consists of a civet of hare, a quarter of salted stag, a stuffed chicken and a loin of veal, the latter two covered with a German sauce with gilt sugar-plums and pomegranate seeds. At each end of the table is an enormous pie, surmounted with smaller pies, which form a crown. The crust of the large ones is silvered all round and gilt at the top; each contains a whole roe-deer, a gosling, three capons, six chickens, ten pigeons, and one young rabbit. Serving as seasoning or stuffing, a minced loin of veal, two pounds of fat, and twenty-six hard-boiled eggs, covered with saffron and flavoured with cloves.

A second course follows: aroe-deer, a pig, a sturgeon cooked in parsley and vinegar, and covered with powdered ginger; a kid, two goslings, twelve chickens, as many pigeons, six young rabbits, two herons, a leveret, a fat capon stuffed, four chickens covered with yolks of eggs and sprinkled with spiced powder de Duc, and even a wild boar.

Next came wafers and stars; a jelly, part white and part blue. A fourth course of cream with Duc powder, covered with fennel seeds preserved in sugar; a white cream, cheese in slices, and strawberries; and, lastly, plums stewed in rose-water.

Besides these four courses, there's a fifth, entirely composed of wines, and of preserves, which consist of fruits and various sweet pastries in the shapes of dragons.

---------------------------

Following this, assuming anyone is still capable of moving at all is the after-party: a black-tie affair in the lavish, opulent ballroom, every new Knight's chance to mingle and meet some of their new brothers in arms. Per usual, a couple hours are provided following the feast for everyone to change, do hair and makeup, and choose from the vast array of formal attire in the closets of the balcony "dressing rooms" located at the top of spiraled staircases on either side of the ballroom. A separate dressing room exists for men and women, and they include full bathrooms (with, thankfully, very modern plumbing).

The squires are usually among the last to arrive, and the ballroom is full to the brim with a fancy array of people, of all shapes, sizes and species.

Hope none of you are shy. They're all here to meet you. 

All open feast threads should be made under the FEAST heading below. Any other threads below will be for the after-party. Feel free to make your own open threads for people to come congratulate your newly pledged knight.

Comments

[king]

[ It's sort of gratifying, really. To see that well over a thousand years after the end of his reign, people would still know his name. No doubt a lot of that is down to Wynn and his Order, but it makes Arthur feel hopeful, that knowledge and greatness can well and truly immortalize a man. ]

[ That doesn't make the staring and whispering any easier, but neither does it feel unfamiliar to have eyes on him and gossip at his back. ]

[ What does feel unfamiliar is to have his servant seated, a knight, beside him at the table instead of a few steps behind. Regardless, he's pleased for Merlin, in his own way, as pleased as he was to find out he wasn't stranded in this brave new world alone. ]

[ Arthur serves himself sparingly, but still seems to find his plate piled high by the time he lifts his fork to eat. He's genuinely concerned he may not be able to stop eating pie long enough to try everything else. But he's not here for the food, really, and he's as interested in absorbing the details and conversation of all these people as they seem to be of him. ]

[servant]

[He's going to take his Knighthood very seriously. But Merlin would be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to this feast, and isn't lying frowned upon? It's a luxury to be able to sit down and eat at a feast like this, while it's actually happening instead of later. But as course after course keeps coming, Merlin starts to think that it's a bit excessive, even by Camelot's standards.]

[Arthur seems more interested in the people than the food, but he still has his plate piled high, and seems to favor some things over others. Namely, the pie.]

Are you sure you should eat all that?

[And there it is, that familiar voice that followed him through time to rain on his self-led parade.]

You need to stay fighting fit.

[king]

[ Arthur glances over at him dismissively. But then he goes to take another forkful of pie, and smoothly, without any hesitation, decides maybe the egg-covered chicken would be better. But it's also extremely disturbing if considered closely, so eventually he just puts down his fork and reaches for his goblet instead. ]

Shut up, Merlin.

[ A drink, and Arthur turns towards him — with a slightly bitter glance at Merlin's own plate, because where does it all go ]

So. Defending the realm. I look forward to seeing you in action.

[ Deeply, deeply sarcastic. ]

[servant]

Oh, given the opportunity, I'm sure I'll make you proud. In fact, I'm looking forward to it.

[And it's obvious that he is. There's an eagerness to him, a glow about Merlin since he was knighted.]

[Of course, that might just be the wine and rich food.]

Don't worry, I'll still help you put on your armor. After all, we are brothers-in-arms now.

[king]

God help me.

[ Arthur rolls his eyes, looking off to the side as it Merlin's being ridiculous. ]

You've obviously had too much to drink.

[ He cuts a forkful of his pie defiantly, lowers his voice. ]

Tell me, Merlin, d'you notice anything about the sword Wynnefalshond knighted us with.

[ Apart from the fact that it's identical to that one Arthur yanked from stone? ]

[servant]

What? I've barely touched my goblet!

[Not that Merlin actually expects him to believe that. Arthur had always accused him of spending too much time in the tavern for one reason or another, when Merlin can't remember being there over a handful of times. He shakes his head, reaching for his wine now but pausing before the cup reaches his lips.]

It does seem slightly familiar.

[Maybe because it looks like the one he helped forge with a dragon's breath.]

Did you ask him about it?

[attollores]

[Alainn had been watching Merlin throughout the feast, fascinated and excited. She had no qualms about watching him like a fan-girl, though the thought of approaching him caused butterflies to rise in her stomach. He was awesome, everything that she aspired to be was in the legends about him and his magical prowess. Finally, when the seat next to him was vacated, she leaped at the opportunity, the butterflies going a million miles per hour. She sat next to him gently, eyes wide and a tremulous smile on her face. Not everybody had the chance to meet a living legend everyday.]

Hello! Er...Uh hey there! [Oh gods, bad start, reverse, reverse! She takes a deep breath and tries again, face pale but smile threatening to break her jaw.]

It's an honor to be meetin' ye, Sir Merlin! [That sounded better. She stuck her hand out, color coming back into her face. Smooth operator style.]

[servant]

[If he'd noticed it at all, Merlin had simply chalked it up to the same excitement and curiosity that he felt about...well, everyone. This feast marked a new beginning for him, and even if he knows there are challenges ahead, he's ready to face them.]

[Challenge number one: being a living legend. And not failing horribly.]

Hello.

[Merlin smiles back at her, though it fades a little with her stammering. Water. Maybe she nees water. He's already glancing around for the pitcher when she tries again.]

That's going to take some getting used to. But it's an honor to meet you too-

[Lady. He stops himself before saying Lady, because she is more likely to be a Sir. He takes her hand, an awkward grin on his lips while he waits for her to introduce herself so he can be sure.]

[attollores]

[Pure relief show's on her face when he doesn't outright laugh at her and she shakes his hand enthusiastically. She seems much more at ease now, leaning back comfortably in her chair and visibly relaxing.]

Sir Alainn O'Rourke! [Her face scrunches a bit at that, then she gives a bit of a rueful grin, her Irish accent all the more pronounced now that her stammering seems to be done with.] Ye can just call me Alainn though, otherwise 'tis a mighty mouthful.

[She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing the rather pointy tip at the top. Her eyes seem a tad too bright green for them to be altogether human. Her face has a slight pointedness to it that, while not sharp, makes her features also seem a bit out of this world.]

Are ye enjoying the party then?

[servant]

[He's heard that accent before, when he first arrived in Ireland itself, before being approached and brought back here.]

Alainn it is. But only if you call me just Merlin. That is allowed, isn't it?

[He glances to the tip of her ear and back to her eyes. And it takes him a moment to respond, because he's wondering, trying to come up with the proper way of asking.]

Uh...yeah, definitely! I couldn't eat another bite.

[Merlin laughs, in part because he totally could eat more. But he doesn't want to act a hog.]

How long have you been a knight?

[slays]

[ Buffy is not tactful enough for staring and whispering. So, after some brief ogling from afar, she goes to find a place across from Arthur and Merlin at the table. At first, it's just a couple surreptitious glances, but then finally, she sets down her utensils and leans over the table. ]

Don't you kind of belong, you know, up there? [ She points up toward the head of the table toward Wynn. ] I mean, you are really -- [ She looks doubtful suddenly. ] I mean, you can't really be ...

[king]

King Arthur?

[ Arthur tilts his head, regards her politely. ]

I think I can. Though right now it's simply Sir Arthur. Pleasure to make your acquaintance?

[ Aka, who are you. ]

[slays]

Oh. Uh, Buffy. [ A beat. Wow, that sounds ... so much less fancy and dignified. So, she clears her throat, taking another go at it. Her voice ... gets comically lower in an attempt to sound cooler. ] I mean. Sir Buffy Summers.

[king]

[ Yeahhhh, Arthur gives that what-sort-of-name-is-Buffy grimace, but doesn't comment, on it or on her misguided attempts to be manly. ]

Well, ...Sir Buffy, I think you find that as I'm now relegated to being a squire for the second time in my life, I sit with the other squires.

[ It's a tough life. ]

[servant]

[He's nearly cleaned his plate, chewing on the last bite and contemplating seconds when she speaks. Merlin looks up at that, eyebrows raised at that question. Merlin swallows, reaches for his cup to wash it down before responding.]

I'm quite happy here, thanks. Much better than where I usually am.

[slay]

Where are you usually that's so bad? [ She's trying to mask her surprise, but ... he's Merlin, right? Shouldn't he be seriously comped and hanging out with the king all the time? Maybe she should have actually read arthurian legend at some point ... Instead of just going off pop culture. ]

[servant]

I wouldn't say that it was bad. But it's nice to be eating and not worrying about someone's goblet being filled.

[Merlin's not even silent for a second before he's glancing for hers. Old habits die hard, if at all.]

Anyway, it's an honor to be at any of these tables as far as I'm concerned.

[bigbad]

[Spike's heard of Arthur, of course. But between the fact that all his memories that don't have to do with the television show Passions are hazy at best and the part where he makes a point of not being overly impressed with anyone, royalty or not, he just looks across the table at Arthur and inclines his head a bit.]

Arthur, was it?

[king]

[ Arthur has the courtesy to finish his mouthful before speaking, his eyes flicking over Spike, lingering on his hair. ]

It was, and remains, Arthur, yes. And you are?

[bigbad]

Spike. [The not-nearly so courteous. You can tell by how he takes a big bite of meat between words.] Sir Spike, that is.

[king]

[ Christ, so they really do knight anyone. ]

Pleasure.

[ It's not. ]

[nepotism]

[Fred can't stop himself from wandering down from his seat, under the pretext of grabbing some of the pies from the display on this end of the table, but really so he can also stop and introduce himself.

He comes to a halt a few steps away, flashing a smile, pie in hand.]

So let me guess: you ate like this every day.

[king]

Who, me?

[ Arthur looks up at the other man, gives a slight shake of his head as he looks back along the table. ]

This is extravagant even by Camelot standards, I'm afraid. But we've been known to feast when the occasion calls for it.

[ And if he's talking about the type of food, well. Arthur's lack of understanding that there's anything unusual at all about this fare should answer that question. ]

[nepotism]

[A tiny smile creeps up the corner of Fred's face as he seems to register that face, but it's entirely innocent amusement. He thrusts out his free hand, expression friendly and interested, but a far cry from over awed.]

Fred. Welcome to the Knighthood. Must be quite a trip, seeing all this crap with your name on it so long after the fact.

[king]

[ Arthur is confused by about a third of that sentence. A trip? A trip to where? ]

Yes, I ... imagine it must be, Fred.