Undorn: The Beginning

Part Twenty-Five

Orgon Aldrich, the Fort

Location: The Hospital

Orgon had been positively itching to get out of the Hospital,  practically since the moment he set foot in the bloody place. Some how, some absolutely magical way, he had convinced Maxin to go into town and get a drink after dinner one night. They had gotten delightfully tipsy off red wine from one of Orgon's classic hole-in-the-wall restaurants and no one (not even Catherine) was any the wiser. No one had recognized or bothered Orgon, either. He had considered it a raging success.

So naturally, he convinced Maxin it was time for another go-around. This time though, they were out for more than just an hour. Orgon had managed to persuade Maxin that he would never find better Indian food ever in his life if he did not come out to dinner with Orgon and try his favorite restaurant that very night. 

Maxin finally gave in but insisted that Orgon show a bit more modesty. He forced a black hat and dark sunglasses on the prince's face, hoping the accessories would be enough to thwart the usual double-takes and open-mouth stares Orgon was so used to when going out in public. 

Besides, there was a price on Orgon's head at the moment (his father was offering a 10,000-pound reward for any information on Orgon's whereabouts) so Maxin's 'disguise' was probably a good idea. 

Despite his insistence on Orgon being unrecognizable, the poor boy was completely in the dark about Orgon's current fugitive status. Orgon knew it would worry him to tears. Even worse, it would cause Maxin to absolutely refuse any sort of travel outside the compound. And let's face it--the best reason, Orgon thought, for leaving the compound wasn't the fresh, well-oxygenated air. The best reason for leaving the Hospital was taking Maxin on a proper date.

"I'll go, you wait. No--over there. Further. Further. I'll come grab you in a minute. And stay put!" 

Orgon couldn't help but smile as he watched the boy dash off towards the restaurant that Orgon had pointed out to him seconds earlier. As he watched Maxin speak with the hostess, Orgon stood huddled in the shadows of the alleyway across the street, tucking as much hair as he could into his cap. He probably looked like a complete serial killer. He was even wearing his long, black wool coat. And the matching turtleneck.

Seeing all the people crowded into the tables outside the restaurant, laughing, talking, looking around--it made Orgon a bit paranoid. His stomach was flipping. He pushed his sunglasses further back on his nose. And then, Maxin was turning away from the hostess to look back at him. He flashed the prince a double thumbs up, then motioned for him to cross the narrow, cobblestone street. Maxin's smile had the strange effect of easing the cramping in his stomach. He didn't hesitate to follow him.

When the prince arrived, Maxin kept his body between Orgon and the hostess, hooking one of his fingers through one of Orgon's, leading him into the restaurant as he followed the hostess through winding pathways of dinners and tables. She set them in the middle of the crowded restaurant at a cozy round table set for two. When they sat down, they were close enough to the next couple over to carry on a conversation with them. And there went Orgon's stomach again.

Maxin looked around anxiously. Orgon assumed he shared the same worry--someone could overhear them. Worse, someone could recognize Orgon easily from where they sat. "It's a bit tight in here," Maxin was whispering. "But she said they didn't have anything else..." He bit his lip, eyes still darting around nervously. They focused back on Orgon suddenly. "Maybe we should leave."

Despite the stomach flips, Orgon's chest burned even more at the thought of turning back. Everything--besides the 10,000 pounds on his head--was perfect. The restaurant, his favorite, was perfect:  dimly-light, yellow-stone walls, ivy vines hanging from the ceiling in beautiful waterfalls, a single candle on the table between them. Maxin was perfect: his eyes shining despite his nerves, his brown mop of curls freshly cut (by Orgon himself), his brand new green sweater that brought out the hazel flecks in his eyes...