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With a choked sound at her prompt response, Last reaches down to pull their chairs just a bit closer, so that he can put his arm properly around her: his sly look breaks into a pleased grin, reflected in an additional warmth that creeps back into his tone. That's his lass, it is, as is so clever, clever-er enough to know when she's being led on, and practical enough not to mind, from the sound of things. That'd been his only real concern, that she might not take well to gifts as weren't bought over the table.

"I tolja, Gee. I tolja she's damnall clever." For all that he has been caught out, he doesn't appear to be angry: he's pleased, as if this is further proof that she suits him very well indeed.

"Tch," Ghastly offers; having drained his glass of champagne already, he takes a flask from his breast-pocket and takes a deep swallow from it, as if to wash from memory the taste of so weak a drink. "Yeah, yeah, Jay tol' me hisself, too -- cain't blame a mate fer tryin', can ye lass?" He shrugs, entirely unrepentant, and offers her another grin, apparently thinking nothing of the fact that he has just mentioned, quite in passing, that Jacob Grimm himself has been complimenting her ..

"I nicked it offer a ship," Ghastly continues amiably; "it were on its way t'sinkin', anyhow, on account of bein' full oop of holes. So it coulda ended up ashore, soon or late; I jest cut it short a step or two, aye? Told me mates it were a doorstop and I were givin' it t'Georgie, on account of it bein' so unnatural heavy -- took it as part've me share." Though he does not come right out and say it, this picture should be fairly clear: Why else would there be a share of anything, unless Ghastly and his 'mates' had filled the ship with holes themselves?

“Heh,” Ghastly is the one who answers her questions, amused by the sly way in which she is looking at her intended; the idea that Last could hide something from someone like Rosa now apparently strikes him as quite funny. “Lass, don’t take no hurt from it, but we knowed afore he did. Been makin’ plans fer ye awhile now. We b’ain’t nivir been able to kip him at his schoolin’, and yet he’s tryin’ t’scratch out letters to some gel? Jay cussed the sky down o’er that one, ‘cause we were afeared ye were some doe-eyed bluestocking. Damn near broke inta song when we heared ye were a smith.”

Even Last sits straight up over this particular set of revelations, sputtering indignantly to think that his fate was so readily predicted and directed by his elder siblings. “What d’ya mean, plans?”

“S’when I got the metal, ain’t it? And Jay, he knew he hadta come see her, din’t he?” Ghastly shrugs over this, apparently thinking nothing of how readily he had Jay had acted to work behind the scenes. “Leastways, yer lass ended up bein’ more’n we e’er woulda hoped fer ye, and a more han’some gel then Ol’Ghastly thought ye’d be oop to catchin’.” He gives Rosalie a wink with this compliment, quick to raise his flask in toast to her: apparently the fact that Rosalie is a poor smith, a mere craftswoman, is of no mind to the Grimm family, no matter what Jacob had said.

With a mere grumble at the thought of Jacob so uncannily predicting this moment, Last will subside beneath Rosa’s smiles: he settles back down, his arm tight around her, and does not speak his thoughts to her, does not voice the questions that Ghastly’s words have raised. What if Jacob hadn’t liked her? If he’d spoken so strongly to her when he’d approved of her .. what would he have done if he hadn’t?

But Rosalie’s question catches him by surprise, so that he flushes a deep red beneath his freckles, and cannot immediately stammer an answer: so Ghastly, sitting across from them, seems to feel that it is his place to provide one once again.

“Oh, aye, and how wouldn’t ‘e? Right soggy bastid he’s become o’er it all. When the hells ye goin' t'be oop an' ready as t'bed 'em both again? Damn idjit's still feckin' mopin', 'bout sick've it, aye?” The pirate’s voice is a deep rumble, plainly unsatisfied with things as they are now: it is him that has to watch over their ‘soggy’ brother, when he’d druther be doing any number of things.

To this, the pirate snorts a laugh, taking another swallow from his flask before capping it and tucking the flask back into his coat pocket. “Hells, whose name ye thinks ‘e moans when ‘e’s in his cups? ’tis all sorries’n’why-did-I’s, ’tis scraping’ at me keel, aye?” He shakes his head, scratching behind one ear, and ignoring the fact that Last has sat up straighter once again, somewhere between indignant and shocked — apparently he hasn’t been around when his brother’s been drinking, and might not even have known it was taking place. But that’s a good sign, surely, if he’s crying for Rosa whenever he gets drunk?

“What he needs is a wallopin’, but I s’ppose a good thumpin’ and bumpin’ll do fer him. I figures ye mayhap weren’t oop t’bouncin’ the bed yet, so I ain’t already brung him, but if ye needs him liquor’d, Ol’Ghastly, he kin see to it! Ye jest lets me know, aye?”

“Gee!” Now Last is certainly indignant, regarding his older sibling with a scowl. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

Unrepentant, Ghastly shrugs. “Weren’t you as needed to know, now were it?”

Ghastly can’t help but snicker at her admonition about drinking — why, drinking solves a great many things, if one only goes about it the right way! He don’t figure it’d be wise to tell the little miss that he’s been trying to encourage First to get good’n’slaggered and hie off to a brothel as a balm to his soul, which is perhaps the most tactful thing he’s done since his arrival at the smithy.

While Last is flushing again, and putting his hand on Rosa’s shoulder as if to say she shouldn’t fuss about that, Ghastly’s actually grinning good and wide, clearly amused at the thought that his little brothers might need protecting by such a figure as this. “Oh ho ho! The wee lass shows her teeth! Tch, me fiery gel, Ol’Ghastly’ll be the one t’tell ye, then, that I best not be needin’ to do none’ve that. They’re yers now, and if t’is a wallopin’ they’s needin’, t’will be ye as gives it t’em, I hopes!”

“What the hell, Gee, would you just shut it?!” This is from Last, speaking between clenched teeth: he doesn’t much take to being talked about like a child that might need to be spanked, whether it’s by his big brother or his soon-to-be-wife. Unfortunately, Ghastly only finds this even funnier, and breaks into guffaws at the look on his face, stopping only when he leans back and realizes that Unwanted has gotten to his feet, and stands right beside him, looking at him with first one eye, then the other, as if trying to decide how best to skewer him with his still-growing antlers.

“ .. tsh, cain’t ye take a joke? Hove off, lad, b’ain’t no harm meant.” One hand on the Guardian's snout, he shoves Unwanted's head away from him with a grumble, only to jerk his hand back when the buck huffs into the palm of his hand before returning to sit calmly beside Aelius. " .. blech," Ghastly comments, wiping his hand on his shirtfront.

Ghastly only nods at Rosa’s warning, pleased to see she is up to the task — and even more pleased, though he does not share it, that she is taking responsibility for the both of them. It isn’t him, it’s they, isn’t it? He’ll be heading back after this and telling Jay to pay up, having laid his bets that the smith would be sure to claim the both of the twins, and no matter that it were she would be wed to only one of them. Anyway, they’ll be more like to listen to the smith, since all she’ll have to do is flip her skirts at ‘em, and they’ll hop to obey: ain’t like she’ll really have to whallop them, after all.

“So’s Unwanted,” Last says with a sigh, “I send him off, sometimes, with First: Jay, he tol’ us we all had to, only then you got hurt, and I ain’t been.” He doesn’t sound like he’s very sorry about that; after all, he hadn’t much looked forward to any sort of training before now, so why should he really want to now? But clearly Unwanted has profited from it, though on most days he’s still as much trouble as ever.

“Pshaw, ye dain’t need no worries about all that,” Ghastly tells Rosa, reaching for the bottle to top off her glass. “Jay got ye a wee bit’ve a party planned, and he’s shippin’ Ferdi in, t’see t’yer trappin’s. He’ll see ye t’rights, don’t ye fret.”

“We’ll sees ye fighting’ proper when yer fit, lass, don’t ye fret none.” Ghastly grins again, pleased with the whole of this conversation, having settled everything quite to his liking; Rosa will take First well in hand, and soon get him to stop moping, she’ll take responsibility for keeping the pair of them in line, this whole wedding thing is settled, and the whole menagerie will learn to take up arms for battle, will they or nil they.

“There’s some I can teach you while you’re still abed,” Last offers, kissing her gently, first on one cheek, then the other. “Throwing knives ain’t so hard, and it ain’t like you don’t still got plenty you kin practice with.” With that, the books, and designing the rings, he figures it’ll keep her busy enough not to fuss about getting up, at least for a few more days.