Chapter Text
“Allow me to give you a token of my admiration, tho such trinket pales to your beauty. Won’t you give me your hand, dear Shylock?”
“My… that is a lovely stain glass. It would hang nicely at my bar. Is this your signature move, Sir Snow? 7 points. You shouldn’t use the same gimmick on different people, at least not when they’ve seen you use it on someone else. I was there at Olivia Laetitia’s that night, you know?”
“Ah… Did I do that? I’ve forgotten...”
“How heartless of you, Sir Snow.”
“My… is that a new shampoo you’re using? You smell as alluring as you look, Shylock.”
“That’s very observant of you, Figaro. I’m glad you’ve noticed. But you’re standing too close, tho I don’t dislike that. 8 points.”
“What… is going on?” Faust finally managed to ask.
At the counter, Figaro and Snow, in his adult form, were crowding around Shylock, spewing one compliment after another.
“Sir Snow and our good doctor are competing to see who’s more charming, and Shylock’s the judge!” Murr explained brightly.
“Is that so…”
“Wanna take a bet?” Murr asked.
Before Faust could refuse, Rustica chimed in, sipping his wine elegantly. “Sir Figaro.”
“I didn’t take you for a betting man, Mr. Bridegroom.” Bradley.
Rustica only smiled serenely.
“Surely our bartender and do better than those old geezers. Hey Shylock, if you want a good time, my door is always open!”
“Wait your turn, Bradley.” All three voices said in unison from the direction of the bar, with an mocking “dear” added by Sir Snow at the end.
“Alright. I get it. I’m just saying… What’s your bet, Smart Guy? I’ll go with you.”
“Why, it’s Shylock, of course!” Murr said, without any hesitation.
“I thought Shylock’s the judge.” Faust commented, losing the thread.
“Doesn’t mean he’s not playing!”
“Well, what’s your call, Faust? Who do you think is more charming between Sir Snow and our southern doctor?”
At this point, Figaro’s eyes have left Shylock’s, and was peeking at Faust not at all subtly. Faust suddenly felt very tired.
“I refuse to participate.” He said. “Sir Figaro, your students were asking for you when I last saw them.” And then he turned to leave.
“At this hour?” Figaro raised an eyebrow. “I suppose I better hurry along, then. Apologies, Shylock. Duty calls. We’ll have to continue this another day.” He gave the bartender a wink, before also turning to leave.
“I don’t like the idea of winning by default.” Snow mused.
“Now, now, I haven’t said yes yet, have I?” Shylock said, with the tip of his pipe, he gently guided Snow to face him once more.
“Do you plan to?” Snow asked.
“No.” He said with a self-satisfied smile.
The elder wizard’s eyes narrowed dangerously for a moment, but it quickly passed. Shylock knew this wasn’t what it took to provoke the older wizard.
“Alright, honest feedback time, what quality does our dear Figgy possess which I don’t when it comes to seduction?”
“Well, if I have to say one thing, it’s this. When Figaro is focused on courting someone, you get the sense that he would do anything to please his partner. Sir Snow, on the other hand, always feels a bit far off. Part of you is currently looking somewhere else. You’re much more suited to be pursued than to be a pursuer.”
Snow observed him for a moment, his large golden eyes unblinking, then laughed. “Even your criticisms are flattering, I could never have learned to talk like a Westerner.”
“On the contrary, I think you’d do quite well.”
“You flatter me,” Snow said, smiling, “It’s a shame that I’ll never abandon the land of the North.”
“You’re not with Sir White today.”
“It’s our day apart. We didn’t have a fight.”
“That’s heartening to hear.” A pause. “It’s not often we get to witness you in your adult form. This is a rare treat.”
“You think so? I wonder if we can use this as a reward for the students.” He turned to the tables. “What do you say, Bradley dear? Which do you prefer? The handsome me, or the cute me?”
“You’re asking me? Well, I don’t mind this view. Looks better on you than pretending to be a brat.”
“Hmph. Too bad for you, we rather like our true forms.” Snow said, as he morphed back into his usual childlike body.
“What was the occasion this time?” Shylock asked.
“Do you wish to differentiate yourself when White isn’t around?” Murr poked his head forward. “Experience something different, just for a little while?”
“Murr,” Shylock said warningly. “Forgive him, Sir Snow.”
Snow frowned in irritation, but was not moved to violence.
“Who knows.” He finally said. “Thank you for the drink, Shylock. And your candid feedback.”
“Anytime.” Shylock answered. “You know, Sir Snow, I think you’re more charming in this form after all.”
“Really? i think the big one suits him more!” Murr said.
“They both have their own charm, but the core of one's being is the same,” said Rustica.
“It’s getting late, White should be back by now,” Snow said, “Goodnight, Shylock.”
“Goodnight, Sir Snow.”