[Closed Post: Caught]

[timebethine]

Laertes is in love. He's in love, and he's carrying his whole heart tucked into his coat, held close against his chest. The pup wriggles and squirms and makes little noises that to Laertes's ears are more curious and interested than distressed. "Soon, pet," says Laertes softly as he undoes the lock on the door to his and Sagramore's rooms. Then, louder: "Sagramore! I've brought a friend for thee!"

And he pulls the tiny puppy out of his coat. It blinks ice-blue eyes at Sagramore, then gives an amiable bark.

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[timebethine]

And oh, Laertes loves this man--loves how his affection shines from him, how sincerely happy he is at his courageous daughter. His chest aches with love, as though something long rusted shut has swung slowly and painfully open again.

[sagramore]

Sagramore is a little too happily preoccupied to notice -- he's murmuring to Szarka, "Art thou a hound? Art thou a terrier? A herding dog? Wilt thou hunt foxes or kill rats or sort out sheep, little bird?" as she barks, though her barks are soft, high-pitched, excited things.

[timebethine]

"If she's a herding dog, we'll have to find other entertainment for her; she'll want something to set in order and command."

[sagramore]

"Aye, she'll herd us around, like enough, but she'll need other challenges. I'll think on it." Sagramore straightens and walks down a few more steps; this time Szarka follows with less trepidation.

[timebethine]

His husband has taught their dog how to use the stairs; Laertes might burst with love. He climbs to his feet and follows--still facing backwards, still slow and careful, until they've made it all the way to the first floor. "Christ, I'd never thought how bad stairs would be for dogs and cats. It must feel as though thou art falling on thy face from start to finish."

[sagramore]

"Down is harder than up; on the way back she'll be fine." He keeps his long strides measured so he doesn't outpace her. "She'll get used to them and then she'll be bounding ahead of us. Look at her, she can do anything."

[timebethine]

"She can," says Laertes, rapt with wonder; "oh, my heart, look at her go--"

[sagramore]

"Thou wilt be in ecstasy when she sits still, soon enough." He leans over and catches an arm around Laertes' waist. "My thanks. Thou hast-- hast made me so happy, heart's-friend."

[timebethine]

"Thou deservest to be happy," says Laertes, and he lets his temple rest against Sagramore's cheek. "I love her more than sunlight. I love thee more than breathing."

[sagramore]

"I love thee more than any dog in all the world." For a moment he closes his eyes: since they've stopped, Szarka plonks herself down and starts chewing on one of his boot laces.

[timebethine]

"Sweet, no," says Laertes, mindful of Sagramore's admonitions. He scruffs Szarka carefully and moves her bodily away from Sagramore's laces.

[sagramore]

He laughs. "Look thou, thou canst be persuaded to sternness. Well done."

[timebethine]

"It's like a blade to my heart!" Szarka, undeterred, returns peaceably to Sagramore's laces for another go.

[sagramore]

He laughs. "It's easier to redirect than deny. If thou wouldst have her leave off, give her something else to take her attention. At least until she learns no."

[timebethine]

"We'll need toys like Magnus and Galahad have for Drosera. Until then, alas--" and he gently scoops Szarka up again and scoots her away again. "Let's keep going; a meal will certainly be a good distraction."

[sagramore]

"At her age, a dinner will probably at least tire her out." It's honestly hard not to want to detour immediately with every new thought -- to the library, to one of the cupboards to make toys, or continue to the kitchen.

[timebethine]

Laertes is having a similar problem--but he's fixed now on the bright clear point of making his new daughter chicken, and he leads them to their usual kitchen and starts getting out ingredients: bread, a container of beef stock, some chicken breast for cooking. "Should I cook it in butter or oil, or boil it? Can she have butter?"

[sagramore]

"Just boil it plain. If she were a wild dog she'd have no seasoning. I suppose she'd have no cooking, either, but--"

[timebethine]

"Szarike will have the best," says Laertes in immediate agreement. He takes out the cutting board that he uses for meats and slices the chicken breast very small, mindful of how tiny her throat is. "Canst thou start some water boiling for me? I should've done that before I started the chicken."

[sagramore]

"Of course." He fetches a pot and goes to the sink, stepping over Szarka, who has flung herself dramatically to the floor with a giant sigh.

[timebethine]

"Sweet little girl," laughs Laertes, "art thou not getting enough attention? Hast thou been cruelly abandoned?"

[sagramore]

"It's good for her to learn to soothe herself. We may have to leave her sometimes. We can spoil her when we're done with our work."

[timebethine]

"Will we let her roam the woods, or keep her close by?" Laertes asks. Having finished chopping the chicken, he goes to wash his hands--his first-aid book had been extremely insistent on the importance of hand-washing to prevent disease, and it seems to have been working so far; he hasn't been sick (apart from the migraines) since he arrived here.

[sagramore]

"Close by. I don't want her wandering off and getting into trouble, especially before she's fully trained. No, I mean, sometimes she'll have to stay in the room by herself, or wait patiently."

[timebethine]

"Oh--I meant when she's grown," says Laertes. "But thou art right. The woods are strange enough for humans; they would have all manner of trouble for dogs."