Theo's voice jolted him from his fantasies, and he scowled. And then he wondered why the very man he'd been thinking about had just now irritated him by existing and having wants of his own. He lay there quietly for a minute as he untangled it. Only when he'd sorted it out and gotten his head on straight did he swing his legs over the bed and rise to his feet.

He popped the nanny door open. This time, though, he swung it fully outward and leaned against the doorframe, blocking the way into his room. "I'm trying to be good, Theo, but I'm only going to say this once," he murmured, and then remembered himself and switched to signing. "If you're asking for something safe, you'd best stay in your own room tonight. Safe's not what's been on my mind."

Theo tried to read in his room but his thoughts were constantly filled with Fletcher. He could not wait for evening to come when he could crawl back into the man's arms again and maybe finally sleep there until dawn. They still needed to rest of course that the candles would wake Fletcher up given that Theo had no chance whatsoever of being any help in that department. 

It was a great relief when dinner was finally over and he no longer had to posture and remain neutral in front of his parents. This season certainly always brought out the worst in his mother and he just wasn't up for dealing with her. The slow, torturous walk back to his room was years rather than minutes it felt like until at last he was peacefully and safely alone again. He cleaned up and changed, making sure he was squeaky clean before quietly calling out to the next room.

"May I please come over or would you rather have some peace tonight? It's okay if you'd rather be alone."

The next few hours passed by achingly slow. At first he didn't mind it. The distance helped. He had himself a drink, and washed up, and went to dinner in the kitchen. When he saw Dewey, though, he went quiet, and for much of the meal he found himself preoccupied with thoughts of how he'd treated the man. He really was a bulldog at times: latching on with a locked jaw and the intent to kill. If Dewey really did have a thing for Neish, he seemed a good enough man, and Fletch wouldn't stand in his way. Or in the way of her happiness, as Dewey had insinuated he would.

By the time dinner was over, and he laid down on his bed, he was positively morose. He went over the day's events again. This time, though, his thoughts caught on something different: Theo standing all too close, their fingers brushing against one another as their breath mingled. The forbiddenness of it. The danger. His eye snapped open and he huffed, shoving it aside. There was no sense in torturing himself with the thought. Yet it crept back, and he found his imagination wandering to what it could have been if he'd just...let himself...snap.

"Because the sea is pretty and not all of us are brave enough to ride her waves or swim her shores. We can only stare at her from open windows," Theo waxed poetically back. He stamped his feet at the entrance to the kitchen and wisely dodged Aneisha's attempt to pounce on him.

Fletcher's cough still seemed to linger and it was beginning to worry him. It was possible the cold air was just a shock to his system but Theo wondered if the man was hiding he had a cold for one reason or another. He made a mental note to add cough-easing tonic to his list of upcoming purchase requests. In his mind at least one of them could be comfortable.

He hardly noticed when Fletcher passed by and went into his own room. And when he did realize he thought little of it given the man's earlier struggle with keeping composure. Theo instead got himself changed and ready for dinner as was expected of him and took to sitting by the dwindling fire while he waited to be summoned.

"Already one," he muttered. "It's done wonders for my condition, though, I'll say that much." With a nod to Dewey and a parting glance at Aya, Fletch followed Theo out of the stable and back into the brisk breeze. "Why even live here?" he grumbled. "Horrid." Coughing into his sleeve and staving the chill off with the dregs of his lukewarm coffee, he stomped along until they reached the servant's entrance once again, where he deposited his empty mug and dodged a whack to the head from Kenna for his thievery. Then it was time to go back up again.

The cold had sobered him, and Dewey had sobered him even more. It was good that they'd accomplished what they'd set out to do. Still, there was a pit in his stomach at how he and Dewey had butted heads. In his want to protect another sister, he'd been too harsh on the young man. The man had held his own, but it wasn't an excuse on Fletcher's part to insinuate a threat to him. He sighed as he passed Theo's door by in favor of his own, deep in thought and shaking his head at his own behavior.

Theo scowled at the mention of going in but dragged himself to his feet all the same. "I wish winters weren't so long. I miss riding in the field in spring."

"You'd have an easier time riding if you weren't fattening all the horses up with sugar cubes, Mr. Theodore," Dewey piped up without missing a beat.

The nobleman looked quite embarrassed as he relinquished what was left of the sugar into the other man's waiting hand. "For what it's worth Dewey, she also has choice taken from her when she is kept from knowing it existed in the first place. Just food for thought.

"Let's go Mr. Daw. You look about ready to turn into an icicle." 

Fletcher sighed and rolled his eye as Dewey went about his work like he suddenly wasn't worth the bother. He stole a glance at Theo — something he'd been avoiding in Dewey's presence. "Just some fresh air. Should probably be heading in, though, ey? So there's time to wash up before dinner."

"She is listened to. That is the difference." Dewey broke Fletcher's gaze now that the worst was over and moved to collect the feed bucket. 

"It sounds to me Aneisha is lucky to have you then, Mr. Jack. Was there anything you were needing in here, sirs?"

Fletch stood, one hand on his hip and the other holding the mug, and stared in silence for a few seconds after Dewey had finished. Then, with a loud, rude snort, a genuine laugh burst from him. "No wonder the dog listens to you," he grinned, taking another sip. "I like you, Dewey. You're a good one. Tell you what. I make her cry, you get a free shot to break my nose. Because that's the last thing I want to do to Neish, mate, and I think you know it perfectly well. I'm not coming in here to control her. I'm seeing that she isn't taken advantage of the way I seen with my sisters. Alright?"

For all of his gentle, quiet nature Dewey surprisingly held his ground against Fletcher's more feral display. There was a reason this quiet young man was master of the stables despite his age and seeming lack of experience: he knew how to handle every matter of beast with utmost respect and caution. Fletcher was no different. He was not about to back down to the other man's threat display. 

"She is not my queen so your words are an ill-placed posturing. While it would be my honor to worship on bender knee for I am no king and could never cage her spirit, Aneisha clearly has no interest in me. If there is a lucky man, I assure you it is not me. I have not seen her today and am not the cause of her smiles. See though that you are not in turn the cause of her tears Mr. Jack."