| [ OOC ] - Character retirement |
[11 Jan 2007|04:25pm] |
Please note: this journal is no longer being played in Citadel.
The arc will remain online, for anyone interested in reading. Thank you to everyone who has RP'd with me since I've been playing Nikolaj.
|
|
| [ journal entry ] - It's all work, work, work |
[19 Mar 2006|05:37pm] |
[ Public journal entry ]
It's coming up to the end of the tax year, and how much do I hate the month of March? Argh. My Lord is practically buried beneath a pile of ledgers in his study, and I wish I could do more for him than just massage away the headaches that he gets when he has to do this. He employs an accountant, of course, but he likes to check everything himself, too, and I'm reduced to supplying coffee and massage and anything else that he needs to help him through it.
Roll on April, I say. We can go for rides around the estate, and picnics by the river, and...
*sigh* Oh, I can't wait.
|
|
| [ Journal entry ] - My Lord, his music, my service |
[05 Jan 2006|01:42pm] |
[ Private journal entry ]
My Lord woke before me this morning (a rare occurrence) and I opened my eyes to the faint sounds of his violin. I wish he'd do that more often, because it's like waking up and still being in a dream. I don't know what he was playing, but it was something soft and sweet, and I kept my eyes closed, listening, for as long as I could, and wishing that I was in his bed so that I could be closer and hear it properly.
I wish that last bit most of all. He let me sit with him while he read last night. I sat beside him, and he leaned against me with his book in his hand (something about Mozart, I think it was) and just the weight of him and the warmth of him... it hurt, but it was a good hurt, like a soft bruise that reminds you who you belong to. I want to be there for him all the time. Not just at his beck and call, because that's what I am to him anyway; but at his side. Always. There for him, in the moment, and not just at the end of a bell rope.
When I was with Mr Sewell Rufus (feels so strange, calling my Lord's friends by their christian names) he was very kind, listened to me, and encouraged me to say something to my Lord, to ask him for more, but I daren't. If my Lord wanted more from me, he would request it, so I'll wait. I'll wait until he asks.
I'm just scared that I'll be waiting forever.
|
|
| Thank-you note to James Purefoy |
[29 Dec 2005|12:04pm] |
[ Written on Arundell Hall headed notepaper ]
Sir,
I am writing to thank you so much for the wonderful Christmas gift that you sent me. To receive such a beautiful foil was gift enough, but to then discover on reading your accompanying note that the foil once belonged to Errol Flynn? I just don't know what to say. It was such a perfect gift, and I literally don't have the right words with which to thank you.
My Lord suggests that perhaps I may thank you in person...?
Obediently yours,
Nikolaj.
|
|
| [ Nikolaj/others ] - Friday night at the club |
[08 Oct 2005|08:16pm] |
[ London Club, Friday October 7th. Edited down for Nikolaj. Also present are: Hugh Grant, Rufus Sewell, Ioan Gruffudd, Jonny Miller, Orlando Bloom and Eric Bana. ]
( "When my Lord orders me to do something, I do it, sir." )
|
|
| [ Vignette ] - a Friday evening in London |
[08 Oct 2005|07:05pm] |
As Nikolaj turns away from putting the last of his Lord's fresh suits in the wardrobe, his gaze lingers on the violin case that sits atop the small dresser in the room. It's closed, as are the wardrobe doors now, and Nikolaj bites his lip, walking slowly over and resting his fingertips on the soft dark covering of the case.
He has missed hearing the song of the violin around Arundell Hall these past two weeks while his Lord has been away. It's as though the house has lost its voice; all of the staff seem to have been tip-toeing around instead of their usual quietly efficient bustle, and nothing seems quite right.
He opens the case and looks down at the amber-gold of the wood. He has always been just a little bit jealous of this instrument. His Lord touches it and caresses it like a lover, and when Nikolaj sees that, he has to look away. Oh, he knows that his Lord takes many lovers, but still__
He should mention that he's here, and that there are fresh suits and nicely pressed shirts in the wardrobe. His mobile phone is in his hand in a moment, and his thumb moves quickly over the keys.
I have brought fresh suits and shirts for you, my Lord. They are in your room, as am I.
His Lord will probably be in the bar, talking with friends, his hand resting possessively on some new boy or other. Nikolaj tries not to think about that as he closes the violin case and takes his book out from his bag, wandering over to the easychair in the room and settling down in it.
He doesn't get more than two paragraphs further before his phone vibrates, and he flips it open.
Thank you, boy. I'm in the bar right now. Come down and be sociable.
With a sigh, the book is closed and Nikolaj gets to his feet. He's really not dressed for this, in old jeans and a shirt, and he's really not the type to frequent bars on a Friday night; they're too busy, after all, and he prefers quieter places. Besides, this is a Citadel bar, and anything could be going on down there.
An order is an order, though, and Nikolaj is nothing if not obedient to his Lord. Down to the bar it is, then.
|
|
![[info]](http://www.journalfen.net/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
