Crispin sighed and re-read the piece of paper for what felt like the 100th time. He ordered another whiskey and accepted, as his vision went pleasantly blurred, that he was now suitably drunk.

The big question was what to do about it all.

It was midday and the Dover was quiet. The odd rogue and one or two city folk but apart from that, no one in sight.

Funny, thought Crispin, For all that people fawn and fuss over me, when I need someone to just talk to me there's no-one here.

His plan roughly amounted to getting blind drunk and then finidng somone to give him cold comfort that he would barely remember in the morning. For Crispin it was easier than dealing with his problems.

He leaned forward and rested his head on his folded arms, his usual good humour lost as he gazed in to mid distance, preoccupied with the letter on the table.

A slightly dissheveled Eulia walked into the Dove. Her hair was loose and tangled. and her clothes were splattered with mud. Not bothering to see who was around she ran into the back room where Lasser waited during the day. She had brought a few of the trinkets she had stolen. They were pretty enough he hadn't asked exactly what she had stolen. Leaving the room with a satisfied air about her Eulia took the time to see who was in the Dove. The usual riff raff that was about for the midday was present, but at a table in the far corner Crispin was surrounded by mugs and had a bunch of paper resting in front of him. Eulia padded over to his table and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Crispin? Are you all right?" she asked tentatively.

Crispin jumped as Eulia tapped him on the shoulder. He had been lost in his thoughts.

He patted her hand absently. "Hello sweetness." he said, doing a poor job of trying to pass himself off as his usual jovial self. He took in her appearance.

"What on earth have you been doing child?" He thought for a second. "Actually, if it's anything illegal, I don't want to know." He lowered his voice slightly, "You need to disentangle yourself from young master Lasser, he's headed for a fall soon I think. Besides, you're better than the likes of him!"

Crispin was using Eulia to distract himself from the issue at hand. He glimpsed the letter and raised a finger to the barman, indicating another whiskey.

Sitting down next to Crispin, Eulias eyebrows snapped together worriedly.

"Crispin are you really that drunk? I hate paying my dues, and could care less about who's on the throne. Everyone except Lasser know that. Of course I'm better than the likes of him." taking up a conspiritory tone Eulia winked "Besides your too drunk to keep your mouth shut about such thing as you know you should, so I think I'll take the liberty of denying you this next mug of whatever it is you've been drinking." picking up one of the several empty mugs she sniffed it warily. "Phew, whiskey. Crispin, doll, I don't mean to deprive you of your elixir, but if you don't stop with this stuff soon your going to pass out. We can't have our lead getting a hangover when we need to practice."

Eyeing the paper laying on the table Eulia partially reassessed the situation.

"Besides. Having your wits muddled won't solve whatevers in that stationary. Care to tell me about it?" she asked.

Watching him carefully Eulia pulled her comb from the breeches she always wore under her skirts and started to brush out her hair.

Crispin lowered his head back on to his arms.

"My darling, passing out is exactly what I intend to do!"

He eyed the paper from where his head rested on the table. No matter how much he had drunk, the paper still said exactly the same thing. He contemplated telling Eulia.

She'd been around the Roses since she was 10, as long as Crispin could remember, in fact worryingly for him he could remember the boisterous little girl who Jasper had first brought to the Dove. He wasn't as close to her as he was to some of the others, but none the less, like himself, she cared about everyone in their troupe and that made her a good friend.

He sighed heavily. "Well. It seems that my father is ill, dying in fact. The letter is from my mother begging me to come home to....say goodbye. Truth is I barely know this man anymore and he sure as the sun shines has not shown an ounce of care about me in the last 14 years or so."

Eulia fought her instincts to draw in her breath sharply. Painful memories of the loss of both her parents came into her mind. She reminded herself it wasn't the same thing, that her loss came as she was a child.

"Did you love him? I mean before you two fell out? I mean, some fathers can't stand watching someone they love do something the think is wrong, so they become bitter."

Eulia winced at how that sounded.

"Passing out isn't healthy for you Crispin, you oughtn't try to do it."

Crispin sat up and rubbed his eyes. He brushed his hair off his face with a sweep of his hand and looked at Eulia. A wry smile appeared on his face.

"I thought it was what I was good at...passing out, getting drunk and generally being a wastrel."

He began fiddling with the mug in front of him, spinning it slowly with a finger, suddenly lost in thoughts of his father. He frowned, picturing his relationship with his father.

"I've lost track of when he began to disapprove of me, but it was long before I became what I am now." A hint of disgust crept in to Crispin's voice. "I wasn't ever quiet enough, or smart enough with numbers or interested enough in buying and selling cloth or what came in on the merchant ships." He shook his head. "My father never laid a finger on me to hurt me but his disapproval has done more damage than he'll ever know."

"What you're good at is being our lead, Crispin" said Eulia watching the emotions flow over his face.

Eulia looked down at her hands calmly and unusually folded on her lap. Thinking about what family had meant to her and what it had come to mean.

"And your mother? Is she worth going back? It might mean enough to her she won't forgive you if you don't. If she's begging you. I mean no matter how he dissaproved he was still your father. It would probably mean alot to him. And you in the end. And if it doesn't you can at least tell him why you didn't try to go back. That he hurt you."

"My mother, thankfully, hasn't given up on me yet. I think she still hopes that one day I'll come wondering home like the proverbial lost sheep, with a pretty, not to mention wealthy wife on my arm all sober and ready to be welcomed back in to the fold."

He looked up at Eulia.

"To be honest, I don't think I can go, just to face having my father reject me on his death bed. Better he dies thinking I'm a wretch rather than giving him another opportunity to spit in my face. Besides, he'll have my brother, golden boy himself, there. He doesn't need me."

Crispin lifted the mug to his lips and then remembered it was empty.

Eulia looked Crispin full on.

"But what if he doesn't? What if he would like to see you? I mean, I... Well you can't know. And your brother, well I don't know about him. But maybe your mother hasn't given up on you because she loves you. I mean she has another heir. If she didn't want to she wouldn't have to write you or make you visit her. In a way she's even putting herself in the possibility of your fathers anger. Either way, fourteen years is a long time to hope for such a thing."

Crispin frowned in to his empty mug.

"Eulia my darling, I can't possibly feel any more guilty than I already do! However I just don't think I can do it. I've been dead to him all this time. Best to leave it this way."

Suddenly he felt overcome with emotion. He turned his head away so Eulia couldn't see his face.

Why did his father still have this effect on him?

As Crispin turned away Eulia's face contorted into a mixture of compassion and rememberance. Eulia had seen the few seconds of emotion on Cripins face. Duly noted she spoke softly, and although part of her didn't want to hurt Crispin more she couldn't help thinking of her own experiences.

"But Crispin, this time, he'll be dead to you too."

Eulia reached out and awkwardly patted him on the back. Comforting had never been her strong point, she rarely cared enough to want to.

"It's not a matter of guilt anymore."

Crispin sat in silence, digesting Eulia's words. He knew she was right. He knew he'd probably regret it if he didn't go, but he could almost predict exactly what bile his father would throw in his face and the smug look on his brother's as he inherited everything.

The money didn't really bother Crispin, it never had, he was a born survivor and he'd tucked away a tidy some over the years from his earnings and gifts.

He decided not to deal with this today. The shutters came down in his eyes and he put on a falsely bright countenance.

"Well. Can't sit here being miserable. Only one cure for this and thats to have a little fun." He stood, grabbed his coat and flashed Eulia an overly bright grin. "See you later little one....or maybe not."

"Crispin...", Eulia sighed out his name not exactly sure what she was going to say.

"You don't have to pretend to me. I lie too much to be fooled by that." she watched him grab his coat. "Just don't do anything you know you'll regret. It won't be worth whatever bad thing you think will happen. Truly, it won't." Little one indeed, she thought in her mind, but she decided it was not the time for chastisement.

He smiled at Eulia, "performance of my life!" he thought to himself.

"When have I ever regretted anything!" He replied perkily. He picked up the mug on the table, drained it quickly, gave Eulia a cheery wave and headed out of the door.

After Crispin left Eulia sat a while longer. He did regret things, she knew, and even if he could pretend he wouldn't now, once his father died she doubted Crispin would be able to act his way through it. She looked at all the empty muges before her and noticed that Crispin had left the letter. She reached out and folding along the creases carefuly she stuck it in a pocket. Tomorrow she could give it back. He could just be lucky she wasn't the type to red personal letters.