Gerard shrugged his massive shoulders amicably. After all, Benedict had acknowledged their presence and that wasn't an everyday occasion. Corwin lit up another smoke and slouched back on his chair, favouring his younger, but bigger and burlier, brother with a smirk.
"You've been in a awfully cheerful mood the last few days," he teased.
Gerard harrumphed cheerfully. "I've noticed a certain lack of brooding in you too, Corwin." His green eyes glittered.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're right, you big bastard. And hell, we've good reason to find ourselves with spirits lifted, and vigour renewed," Corwin admitted.
Gerard winced at the flowery language. "Oh for the love of the Unicorn, keep the poetry in check, brother."
"Philistine."
Benedict ate his stew in silence, face and manners as restrained and closed as ever, utterly ignoring the jibes and belches emitting from his younger half-brothers.
Corwin concentrated on his beer for a moment, emptying the tankard and filling it up again. "You know... We're lucky she comes by here now and again. It has made this prolonged field trip better in so many ways."
Gerard nodded piously. "To imagine that Brand could sire such a miracle of a daughter... I still have a hard time parsing it!"
"Yeah. Beauty so profound, so heartwrenching that even Flora is entranced. I mean, seriously -- Flora hasn't tried even one of her catty little tricks on the girl," Corwin mused hazily.
The giant sitting opposite him let out a besotted sigh and rested his chin in a massive hand. "I know. Hell, even Julian is acting civil around her. He allows her to visit Arden whenever she likes, and neither his hounds nor his birds bother her." Gerard pointed a finger at Corwin to drive home the final point, "Hell's bells, Corwin. I swear I saw her feeding carrots to Morgenstern once."
Corwin let out a long whistle. "Well damn. That is impressive. I thought that monster only ate raw meat."
Gerard adswered with a nod, since his mouth was busy ferrying beer from the tankard to his innards. The tankard slammed down on the table, and he wiped his mouth and moustache with the back of his hand. "It's crazy. Everyone likes her. Everyone."
After a deep drag of his smoke, Corwin smiled. "What's not to like? The girl's a grade A looker, she has great manners, is friendly to everyone and fun to party with. On top of that she is competent in all sorts of skills, and damn smart. I've never once had to repeat any instructions to her."
The younger man smiled fondly. "Same here. Dedicated, smart, competent... And a damn good sport. What's not to like indeed," he nodded.
Benedict had moved over to a window and was staring outside. "She talks too much," he grunted.
Shocked silence filled the small cottage as Corwin and Gerard stared slackjawed at each other. Benedict had spoken actual words. About a member of the youngest generation of the family.
Corwin, who was old enough and drunk enough to remember a much younger Benedict, blinked. Suspicious lights came on in his eyes, and he gave Gerard a meaningful look.
Gerard hoisted his jaw up from the table, and frowned at Corwin. "What?"
Corwin grinned and winked at his not-so-little brother, and tapped his nose.
Gerard stared.
Then very, very carefully the two drinking princes arranged their features into the most amazingly oblivious poker faces. They could have won medals, if medals were passed around for blandness.
"I think I need to go dip my head in the river," Corwin ventured, and got up from his chair.
Gerard seemed to think that this was a good idea, because he followed suit. "Don't bogart all the beer now, Benny," he called out to the rakish man by the window as they left.
Benedict only snorted something that sounded suspiciously like "Idiot!" in response, but didn't turn around. "She talks entirely too much," he muttered quietly, as the door slammed shut behind the two lousy excuses for brothers.
Said lousy excuses walked hurriedly into the forest, and down the path to the small river. Only when they reached the small waterfall two hundred yards downriver, did they crack up. Corwin and Gerard doubled over, hooting with mirth.
"Did you hear that?! 'She talks too much'!" the elder wheezed, doing a bad impression of Benedict's voice.
The other one boomed out another laugh, steadying himself on a tree. "Prince high and mighty could only come up with that?! Dworkin's slippers!"
Corwin snickered. "The old bastard is sweet on her. I'll bet you Greyswandir on it!"
"As tempting as your little toothpick might be, I'm not taking you up on that bet, bro," Gerard chortled and wiped tears of merriment from his eyes. "How in the Abyss...?"
Corwin made a mock face of disappointment "She's just that amazing. I'm not even gonna try speculating. The fact that Benny offered such a lame comment, instead of ignoring the topic entirely, is all the proof we need. And probably all the proof we're ever gonna get. She's managed to get under his skin, and filled up his heart and mind. So he slipped."
"You realize he'll turn us into shish kebab if we call him on this?" Gerard noted. It wasn't really a question.
The other nodded, still trying to stifle the odd giggle.
"So what do we do?" Gerard pressed.
"We wait and see. Novalis said she'd be back witin 10 days." Corwin grinned wickedly at Gerard. "And then... We observe very carefully, my dear brother."
Gerard paused, then smiled from ear to ear. "I bet you 10 bottles of Lord Hendrake's Black Label he'll be eating from her hand within the year."
"You're on!"