Fitz stares. It's Lord Golden, and yet not quite. There's far more of the Fool there. Elegant and beautiful, eyes shadowed.
This must be some stop on the way to the Fool's school. Perhaps Prilkop is here, somewhere. Perhaps it's not too late, perhaps Fitz can still convince him to come back to Buck after he visits his school, to come back. Perhaps he can convince him that his presence won't interrupt Fitz's life.
He scrambles to his feet, letting the weed drop, letting the fork clatter to the ground. He takes two awkward half-running steps, desperately wanting to catch the Fool up in his arms, because he looks well enough for it and because he's here, but... but he stops. Who knows who might be watching.
"I cannot believe it," he says, instead, a smile beginning to stretch his features.
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This must be some stop on the way to the Fool's school. Perhaps Prilkop is here, somewhere. Perhaps it's not too late, perhaps Fitz can still convince him to come back to Buck after he visits his school, to come back. Perhaps he can convince him that his presence won't interrupt Fitz's life.
He scrambles to his feet, letting the weed drop, letting the fork clatter to the ground. He takes two awkward half-running steps, desperately wanting to catch the Fool up in his arms, because he looks well enough for it and because he's here, but... but he stops. Who knows who might be watching.
"I cannot believe it," he says, instead, a smile beginning to stretch his features.