Gothocalypse

The Guard

When he stepped out of his room, dressed, he nearly tripped over Jerome who was kneeling at his door. "Good god Jerome! What are you ...doing?" His word slowed and his tone softened. His hair was neatened and face washed, but he remained in the outfit from earlier and the heavy weighted collar and chain remained wrapped around his neck.

"Waiting for you." He said, only glancing up. He stroked Jerome's cheek affectionately as he rose, unwrapping the lengthy chain and taking it in hand.

"You've done so well today. I haven't yet told you that. You've made me proud." Jerome preened slightly at the praise. He stayed close to oz as he limped, even more stiffly than usual, to the dining room. To his surprise, The table was far more occupied than he anticipated. Not only did Ed stand at the ready, but seated were several political figures who'd been in hiding, and a couple of mid-level former bosses. Some of the former politicians shrunk at the sight of Jerome (he couldn't help but smirk at the sight). Oswald looked to Ed questioningly.

"Your Grace Cobblepot, these people all wish to speak to you regarding their loyalty. They wish to pledge and seek your aid and protection." Oswald seemed to consider the idea for a moment.

"Why is it that I was not given notice of this meeting? Which for reasons I can't fathom, is happening at my own dinner table?" He said, irritated. His legs still hadn't recovered their strength from earlier and he began to shake. Jerome discreetly held out his arm as an offer of stability, and after only a seconds hesitation, was taken up on it.

"You were, indisposed earlier, I didn't wish to disturb you. And here seemed like the safest place after all of the events of late." Ed said evenly, trying his best to keep a straight face at the former. Penguin sighed and gave an annoyed gesture that was a clear "fine-whatever". Jerome accompanied him to his seat at the head of the table, grateful that he was still armed from earlier. He didn't like all these strangers around with his king in a weakened state. Given the already full and cramped nature of the table, Jerome opted to take a kneel on the floor next to Oswald, resting his chin on his thigh. while his drink was poured, (appetizers had already been served to waiting guests) Oswald absently ran his fingers through his pets resilient hair. They dove straight into business at the table, boring politics and strategy and deals and money. All things that Jerome had no interest in- and no need for. Every so often oz would reach down with a forkful or piece of the meal for Jerome, who would gently accept and lazily chew. He found himself surprisingly content. Nearing the end of the ever-long discussion, much wine had been consumed and the conversation began to devolve to more personal and less professional. On Oswald's command, Jerome had been given bowl of dessert and spoon. He was leaning up, his back against the leg of Oswald's chair, eating away, when a particular discussion peaked his interest.

"Is it safe to have an animal like that around?" One man said, "I mean, how can you trust that he won't turn on you?"

"Yeah, he's killed so many people, and mostly for no reason." Said another.

"What if he turns on us?" Another piped in. "Wouldn't it be better to... put him down?" Jerome nearly dropped his bowl. He glanced up to his master. A soothing hand immediately landed on the back of his neck. Ed dropped his spoon, choking slightly.

"Gentlemen, I appreciate your concern, and a time ago, I might have considered them valid. But I assure you, that you need not concern yourself with your safety at his hand, unless you plan to threaten mine" Jerome closed his eyes and leaned into the touch and the words. He heard the scraping of a chair being pushed back. Before he knew it, one of the unknown men was walking briskly toward their end of the table. Jerome's eyes narrowed and his body tensed. The man strode up, saying "well, then let's have a look see at this slave, shall we?" Ed stood, pushing his chair in the man's way. said person gave edward a hefty shove, landing him against the table, sending dishes flying.