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[ There's a pause. ]
...Not really. But I can.
...Not really. But I can.
I'm not busy at all. [ Tentatively, but not at all unfriendly. And then, a joke-- ] Pretty sure I'm not allowed to do anything for a couple weeks, anyway.
[ So anyway, she'll come up to the office. It takes a little time to figure out where it actually is, but eventually, there's a girl with long blonde hair in a ponytail, two sets of stitches around her eyes, and an unseasonably thick scarf around her throat, opening the door like she's not sure she has the right place. ]
Hi.
[ So anyway, she'll come up to the office. It takes a little time to figure out where it actually is, but eventually, there's a girl with long blonde hair in a ponytail, two sets of stitches around her eyes, and an unseasonably thick scarf around her throat, opening the door like she's not sure she has the right place. ]
Hi.
Hello—Beth?
[ Must be.
The office has two desks, but Bastien’s not at either of them. He’s dragged his chair nearer to the room’s bookshelf, where one of the lower shelves has been doubling as a foot rest, but now he’s snapping his book shut again and standing up. ]
Water or wine?
[ Must be.
The office has two desks, but Bastien’s not at either of them. He’s dragged his chair nearer to the room’s bookshelf, where one of the lower shelves has been doubling as a foot rest, but now he’s snapping his book shut again and standing up. ]
Water or wine?
[ For a moment Bastien looks considering and entertained—as if he might enjoy daring her to throw her slippers and vindictively pick through the nuts, to see if she really will. Because he would enjoy it, so long as it stayed friendly. He pretends at catching himself with his shoulders raised, halfway through a shrug, and badly covering it for it by rolling them as if they’re sore. ]
I am very kind to myself.
[ It’s a possibly cashew-forfeiting answer, and certainly an unfair one. A little unfair to Athessa, who Bastien expects would knuckle through the salt in her wounded heart if he asked her to listen to him whine about his relatively good luck. And very unfair to Byerly, who’s gentle with every vulnerability and anxiety he works himself around to voicing. But under the circumstances—general and specific, with her only stopped here before going up for a conversation she fears will go badly—telling Alexandrie how sweet Byerly is to him seems cruel.
For the sake of the cashews, he adds, ]
But I do worry. Of course I do.
[ About the three of them. About what he matters to Alexandrie more than about what he matters to Byerly, lately. About the two of them entwined half-dressed on the bed he hadn’t been able to sit on, the my Byerly and the kissing and murmuring about humoring Bastien over his foolish breakfast.
He’d rather step on a spike than unload any of that on her now, though. Instead, compromising, trying more than anything to not leave her feeling alone in having uncertainties: ]
In the beginning I was very sure that he was in love with you and only holding onto my hand because he was scared. I tied myself into all sorts of knots about it.
I am very kind to myself.
[ It’s a possibly cashew-forfeiting answer, and certainly an unfair one. A little unfair to Athessa, who Bastien expects would knuckle through the salt in her wounded heart if he asked her to listen to him whine about his relatively good luck. And very unfair to Byerly, who’s gentle with every vulnerability and anxiety he works himself around to voicing. But under the circumstances—general and specific, with her only stopped here before going up for a conversation she fears will go badly—telling Alexandrie how sweet Byerly is to him seems cruel.
For the sake of the cashews, he adds, ]
But I do worry. Of course I do.
[ About the three of them. About what he matters to Alexandrie more than about what he matters to Byerly, lately. About the two of them entwined half-dressed on the bed he hadn’t been able to sit on, the my Byerly and the kissing and murmuring about humoring Bastien over his foolish breakfast.
He’d rather step on a spike than unload any of that on her now, though. Instead, compromising, trying more than anything to not leave her feeling alone in having uncertainties: ]
In the beginning I was very sure that he was in love with you and only holding onto my hand because he was scared. I tied myself into all sorts of knots about it.
If you feel so still, then we are each of us more sure of the other's place and keeping our fingers busy with sailor's work.
[ She makes it sound lighter than she feels it, but after a few words Alexandrie finds she cannot look at him. Her eyes flick away instead to the dish of nuts— a small cover, although not one she expects to work on Bastien— so she can pick out an almond. She'll show it to him with a little smile before she eats it: vengeance escaped. ]
[ She makes it sound lighter than she feels it, but after a few words Alexandrie finds she cannot look at him. Her eyes flick away instead to the dish of nuts— a small cover, although not one she expects to work on Bastien— so she can pick out an almond. She'll show it to him with a little smile before she eats it: vengeance escaped. ]
[ He swipes two fingers over his forehead to mime swiping away sweat in relief, with a smile not quite as little as hers. Smaller than it would be, though, if she hadn't needed to look away. ]
I don't. Not like I did before. I think nearly everyone's certainty about nearly everything wobbles, but that's only wobbles, you know, it's not...
[ He trails off; his smile widens. ]
But I am still sure of your place, too. I didn't have to trade. [ He reaches for one of his precious cashews, and his tone goes sing-song and teasing, as if they are back in the city, young again, with everything lighter. ] He has it sooo bad for you.
I don't. Not like I did before. I think nearly everyone's certainty about nearly everything wobbles, but that's only wobbles, you know, it's not...
[ He trails off; his smile widens. ]
But I am still sure of your place, too. I didn't have to trade. [ He reaches for one of his precious cashews, and his tone goes sing-song and teasing, as if they are back in the city, young again, with everything lighter. ] He has it sooo bad for you.
[ It should make her happy, the teasing. It should make her laugh and throw nuts at him with a sparkle in her eyes and a flush of colour in her cheeks.
Instead it rips her heart out because it falls so easily off Bastien's lips and she has to drag it from Byerly with her fingernails and it feels like a scrapbook of every time she broke herself open and he turned away.
She doesn't cry, at least. Or blanch, or freeze, or run. She speaks, softly: ]
He does not trust me enough to say so, and were he to... I am not sure I trust him enough to truly believe.
[ Then she is back at the bowl, hunting for almonds with a wan smile. ]
I think perhaps you think us easier with one another than we are.
Instead it rips her heart out because it falls so easily off Bastien's lips and she has to drag it from Byerly with her fingernails and it feels like a scrapbook of every time she broke herself open and he turned away.
She doesn't cry, at least. Or blanch, or freeze, or run. She speaks, softly: ]
He does not trust me enough to say so, and were he to... I am not sure I trust him enough to truly believe.
[ Then she is back at the bowl, hunting for almonds with a wan smile. ]
I think perhaps you think us easier with one another than we are.
Maybe so.
[ He was there for some of the miscommunication and despair. He was also there for the paeans and herb kingdoms. Perhaps he's overestimating the prevalence of the latter. And that wan smile isn't what he wanted, short-term, with his teasing. But that she's talking to him is what he wanted, longer-term, so he won't beat himself up too badly for the miscalculation.
He holds out a hand, palm flat, in silent request for a cashew. Or whatever else she'd like to give him. He isn't so picky. ]
Have you talked to him about—about Val Royeaux? About where he went afterwards? How it was?
[ He was there for some of the miscommunication and despair. He was also there for the paeans and herb kingdoms. Perhaps he's overestimating the prevalence of the latter. And that wan smile isn't what he wanted, short-term, with his teasing. But that she's talking to him is what he wanted, longer-term, so he won't beat himself up too badly for the miscalculation.
He holds out a hand, palm flat, in silent request for a cashew. Or whatever else she'd like to give him. He isn't so picky. ]
Have you talked to him about—about Val Royeaux? About where he went afterwards? How it was?
No.
[ She finds him some. One, two; the little curled crescents deftly picked from the mix and deposited into the waiting hand. ]
Some. Not as we should speak. I think perhaps the both of us are avoiding it, or allowing the other to.
I do not even know what he did that night.
[ And she doesn't want to ask. Not only because it will hurt to hear, but because she doesn't want him to ask her what she had done. It is the first stone of the soulless road she paved, and thinking too closely of it now— thinking too closely about near everything in those silent years— is like looking directly at the sun.
So she doesn't. ]
[ She finds him some. One, two; the little curled crescents deftly picked from the mix and deposited into the waiting hand. ]
Some. Not as we should speak. I think perhaps the both of us are avoiding it, or allowing the other to.
I do not even know what he did that night.
[ And she doesn't want to ask. Not only because it will hurt to hear, but because she doesn't want him to ask her what she had done. It is the first stone of the soulless road she paved, and thinking too closely of it now— thinking too closely about near everything in those silent years— is like looking directly at the sun.
So she doesn't. ]
Mm.
[ It is the only polite thing to say while he’s chewing. After he’s swallowed, though— ]
I hate to give advice, because then if it goes badly it is my fault. [ A joke. Sort of. ] And I don’t know how things are for the two of you when I am not there, you know, making them much worse.
[ Also a joke; also only sort of. ]
I think it is hard to talk to someone about how they have hurt you unless you don’t mind hurting them back. But I think if I were hurt—if I were capable of being hurt— [ One last joke for the road, with a wry little smile, because he doesn’t expect her to believe that old spy’s lie. ] —then knowing that the person who hurt me understood what it meant for me, feeling like they could carry that with me—it would be a step. [ Again: ] I think.
[ He thinks of Byerly, younger and even skinnier and selling his violin to scrape by, and his default pleasant expression dips for a moment. But then it’s back. ]
I also think I do not really know what I am doing, most of the time, so...
[ It is the only polite thing to say while he’s chewing. After he’s swallowed, though— ]
I hate to give advice, because then if it goes badly it is my fault. [ A joke. Sort of. ] And I don’t know how things are for the two of you when I am not there, you know, making them much worse.
[ Also a joke; also only sort of. ]
I think it is hard to talk to someone about how they have hurt you unless you don’t mind hurting them back. But I think if I were hurt—if I were capable of being hurt— [ One last joke for the road, with a wry little smile, because he doesn’t expect her to believe that old spy’s lie. ] —then knowing that the person who hurt me understood what it meant for me, feeling like they could carry that with me—it would be a step. [ Again: ] I think.
[ He thinks of Byerly, younger and even skinnier and selling his violin to scrape by, and his default pleasant expression dips for a moment. But then it’s back. ]
I also think I do not really know what I am doing, most of the time, so...
Edited 2021-04-19 13:20 (UTC)
[ For a little while she is quiet, considering. Thinking of how often it is that they are strangers to each other— she and Byerly. The violent dichotomy of their intimacy; how quickly a moment of incredible softness turns to the heat of her fear fueled rage and the chill of his withdrawal. How the closer they hold one another, the easier it is to tear one another to shreds when they stray from knowing into nothing.
If there were more knowing, perhaps...
Finally: ]
You do not make things worse, Bastien. Telling a man who is unaware he has taken a wound that he bleeds is not the cause of the bleeding.
[ She'd been palming cashews as she picked them out, one tucked away for every one she'd revealed. She puts them on the desk now, a little offering. ]
You make things better. It is better to know.
If there were more knowing, perhaps...
Finally: ]
You do not make things worse, Bastien. Telling a man who is unaware he has taken a wound that he bleeds is not the cause of the bleeding.
[ She'd been palming cashews as she picked them out, one tucked away for every one she'd revealed. She puts them on the desk now, a little offering. ]
You make things better. It is better to know.
[ Bastien nods, smiles wider for the additional cashew bounty, and picks one up. ]
Thank you. [ For the cashews, for the kind correction. He splits the nut in half with his nail rather than eat it straight away. ] Tell me how it goes—your conversation about Miss Poppell. Or if I do not see or hear from you until tomorrow I will just assume it went very well.
Thank you. [ For the cashews, for the kind correction. He splits the nut in half with his nail rather than eat it straight away. ] Tell me how it goes—your conversation about Miss Poppell. Or if I do not see or hear from you until tomorrow I will just assume it went very well.
Or very poorly.
[ A joke, like his: sort of. But when she gets up and brushes her hands lightly down her skirt to set it hanging properly she is looking at him again. And if her smile is not a broad bright thing, it is at least not sad. ]
I will. [ A pause, and— ] Thank you.
[ A joke, like his: sort of. But when she gets up and brushes her hands lightly down her skirt to set it hanging properly she is looking at him again. And if her smile is not a broad bright thing, it is at least not sad. ]
I will. [ A pause, and— ] Thank you.
Oh, uh--water's fine.
[ They drink a lot of wine around here, don't they? She walks over, pausing not quite within reach of him. ]
This is pretty nice for an office.
[ A lot better than the last ones she found herself in, anyway. ]
[ They drink a lot of wine around here, don't they? She walks over, pausing not quite within reach of him. ]
This is pretty nice for an office.
[ A lot better than the last ones she found herself in, anyway. ]
That is Madame d’Asgard’s doing.
[ The curtains, the decor, the general sensibility—all hers, along with the second unoccupied desk.
He steps away from his papers to retrieve a pitcher and cups, and while he does he gestures to his desk chair, where the long neck of a lute peeking over the surface of the desk in front of it. ]
I have that, if you want to see how it compares. Or tell me how it is different from what you are used to. Maybe we have something similar and call it by another name.
[ The curtains, the decor, the general sensibility—all hers, along with the second unoccupied desk.
He steps away from his papers to retrieve a pitcher and cups, and while he does he gestures to his desk chair, where the long neck of a lute peeking over the surface of the desk in front of it. ]
I have that, if you want to see how it compares. Or tell me how it is different from what you are used to. Maybe we have something similar and call it by another name.
[ Beth walks around to the chair and the instrument beside it. Shiny wood and an intricately carved soundhole, like a flower blooming under the strings, the head bent back. And it's definitely not a guitar: the neck's too wide, the body's reminiscent of an egg sliced in half. ]
Holy crap. [ That's under her breath. To Bastien, she says-- ] It's, uh, a lot of strings. But it's beautiful.
[ And he said she could see how it compares, so that probably means she can touch it, right? She looks up at him questioningly, a hand stretching out to pick it up by its broad neck, before actually taking hold of it and trying to figure out how to hold it. Her best guess is basically like a guitar--under her right arm, balanced against her thigh--and once it's safely tucked in against her side, she strums the strings experimentally. All of them first, then each set of two, getting a sense of the sound.
It feels about a million times more delicate than an actual guitar, partly because it belongs to someone else and partly because it's so much lighter than what she's used to. Everything about it is finely made. ]
It's...kinda close. [ The notes for each open string are just slightly off, but she's not about to retune it to what she's used to hearing. ] Like a twelve-string guitar. But a different shape. And this fingerboard's huge.
Holy crap. [ That's under her breath. To Bastien, she says-- ] It's, uh, a lot of strings. But it's beautiful.
[ And he said she could see how it compares, so that probably means she can touch it, right? She looks up at him questioningly, a hand stretching out to pick it up by its broad neck, before actually taking hold of it and trying to figure out how to hold it. Her best guess is basically like a guitar--under her right arm, balanced against her thigh--and once it's safely tucked in against her side, she strums the strings experimentally. All of them first, then each set of two, getting a sense of the sound.
It feels about a million times more delicate than an actual guitar, partly because it belongs to someone else and partly because it's so much lighter than what she's used to. Everything about it is finely made. ]
It's...kinda close. [ The notes for each open string are just slightly off, but she's not about to retune it to what she's used to hearing. ] Like a twelve-string guitar. But a different shape. And this fingerboard's huge.
[ He looks less keen-eyed than he is, while he watches—interested most of all in how careful she is with it. How comfortable he would be letting her take it out of his sight. He’s considering it. So far, it’s likely. ]
You are used to fewer strings? [ If the fingerboard of her guitar is smaller, ] Maybe you would feel more at home on a mandolin.
[ He comes closer. ]
Has it been a hobby or a profession, for you?
You are used to fewer strings? [ If the fingerboard of her guitar is smaller, ] Maybe you would feel more at home on a mandolin.
[ He comes closer. ]
Has it been a hobby or a profession, for you?
We had those at home. Mandolins. I never tried one, but--
[ But I could try. The look on her face might say it, familiarity creating the smile on her face. She gets a hand around the fingerboard, pressing down on the strings without strumming or picking at them; right now, she's as interested in the feel of it as she is the sound.
It's been a while since she got to play something like this. ]
Just a hobby. I kinda wanted to be a musician after high school, but...[ Beth shrugs, the corners of her mouth tugging down again. ] It didn't work out that way.
[ But I could try. The look on her face might say it, familiarity creating the smile on her face. She gets a hand around the fingerboard, pressing down on the strings without strumming or picking at them; right now, she's as interested in the feel of it as she is the sound.
It's been a while since she got to play something like this. ]
Just a hobby. I kinda wanted to be a musician after high school, but...[ Beth shrugs, the corners of her mouth tugging down again. ] It didn't work out that way.
Bastien! How's the mustache coming?
[A terrible thought suddenly occurs to Edgard.]
O-or is it? Maybe it's not. That's alright. You look fine. You look great. I mean, I assume I can't actually-- [A deep sigh and a small thunk as Edgard claps his own hand over his mouth. This is a sensitive topic and he already stepped in it.]
[A terrible thought suddenly occurs to Edgard.]
O-or is it? Maybe it's not. That's alright. You look fine. You look great. I mean, I assume I can't actually-- [A deep sigh and a small thunk as Edgard claps his own hand over his mouth. This is a sensitive topic and he already stepped in it.]
[Edgard sighs, tremendously relieved, and laughs in response.]
Not certain. Perhaps a little. But it does sound like you can afford a lot more drinks than you could before.
[Is it the mustache or the lack of mustache that makes the difference? Edgard isn't sure.]
Not certain. Perhaps a little. But it does sound like you can afford a lot more drinks than you could before.
[Is it the mustache or the lack of mustache that makes the difference? Edgard isn't sure.]
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