Incomplete

[alt_regulus]

So you've returned my owl, rebuffed her delivery. I take your point--it is, in fact, pointing accusingly at me from its parcel even now.

I'm not keeping pace. Not half done. And I suppose the first effort was opposable, too, coming as it did alone after a handful of days. Inexcusable. And this second offering? Insufficient.

Yes, you've made that clear. Your displeasure throbs, paints my dreams red.

But I am on point. And on pace now.

Comments

[alt_regulus]

I'm not sure when I can promise a visit, but I hope to be free by next weekend.

Or are you tied down with galas and meetings, fundraisers and correspondence?

[alt_narcissa]

Never too tied down for you to visit. Come when you can.

[alt_regulus]

Could we have that gazpacho your elves make? It nearly cauterised my throat last time, but it's worth the risk.

What have you got in the wine cellar? Anything really smoky and full-bodied?

I'll bring the cheeses.

[alt_narcissa]

I've a splendid Châteauneuf-du-Pape Muscardin that we found this summer. It should do nicely.

[alt_regulus]

The thought of it might pull me through.

[alt_narcissa]

Well, perhaps it will loosen your tongue, at least, and you can tell me what you've been up to so furtively.

[alt_regulus]

That depends on whether you've one bottle or two in the larder, cousin.

I don't think I'm ever loose after only half a bottle.

[alt_lucius]

Yes. When you have completed your task to full success, I am sure your cousin shall be happy to entertain you. Or you could entertain her with one of your little ... concerts.

[alt_regulus]

Well, yes, though it's not something I plan for--the music. If the inspiration comes, it comes. Mostly it doesn't.

Brilliance can't be forced, you know.

Particularly now that I've only got half an octave on the tin whistle.