And perhaps that's enough. My Bastien. [ Though he thinks a moment. ] Just - For some reason, it feels oddly impersonal, calling you that. Which it oughtn't. It's no less your name than the one you were born with.
[ Bastien snickers; fire of my loins could just as easily be a venereal disease.
But they move on to something a little more serious quickly enough, and he hums in understanding. ]
I was jealous, when you were gone—I was unhappy about everything I could find to be unhappy about, you know. But I was jealous that other people had words for it. Simple ones. Husband. Widow.
I can be such a peasant,
[ is a joke. Byerly, after all, is the one who’s brought labels up. ]
Too right. Disinherited isn't a legal status. It's a lifestyle.
[ He gives a little flourish of his hand. The grin slips away a bit as he says - ]
It's all right, isn't it? That I don't really have anything to leave to you? Since I do not think that my beloved wife's family are going to change their minds and shower us with wealth any time soon.
You are not leaving, [ will come true if he says it enough, ] so there is no point anyway.
[ His hold on By’s arm hasn’t loosened. It certainly doesn’t loosen now. ]
Besides, I like you rakish and broke. It’s romantic. If you did ever come into your own money, you’d have to lose it immediately, or else lose your appeal.
Besides, I would actually be insufferable if I were wealthy.
[ He laughs a little, and smiles at Bastien as he says - ]
I've enough of the nobility's poison in me that if I hadn't drunk deep of poverty, I'd be a nasty and envenomed little thing. But the tonic of rubbing elbows with decent folk did cure me of it. Maybe the one thing I'm grateful to my father for.
[ is not disagreement about conjoint, only with the subject change. ]
You wouldn't be nasty and envenomed. I have seen what you were like when you were small— [ thanks, Crossroads ] —and heard enough about it to know you were always sweet and always concerned about people being mistreated. If you'd had money, it only would have meant you had more means to do something about it. A few days of poverty might be good for empathy, but a life of it is only good for desperation.
And maybe you would be a little snobby about some things, [ he admits, fairly, ] but I would have fixed you within a week of meeting you.
[ He both wants to protest this generous assessment and is immensely pleased by it. It is a distressing and wonderful thing, to be seen through to the quick. It is a horrible and pleasurable thing, to be loved to your soul. ]
Well, one week once you started working on the project. You'd spend three years being immensely irritated by me, first. I've seen how you interact with that sort of person. Remember Davide?
[ Bastien would pinch a handful of arse to compliment that swagger, if he were willing to let go of By’s arm to do it. He nudges in with his shoulder instead. ]
As long as it would take you to get around to showing off on your violin. So I don’t know.
[ How long could Byerly possibly stand to be in the presence of musicians without busting out the fiddle? ]
[ He misses them still. Even if they are probably too old and too slow to be climbing into windows anymore, trespassing in a garden or three now and then would be nice. ]
How long do you think it would have taken you to like me? Or to notice me at all, while you were busy spending all of your money fine clothes and food for orphans.
Only the finest of silks for the orphans. Just so.
The only reason I didn't like you at first - [ And an apologetic little grin at that, over the fact that there was ever any moment that he didn't like Bastien - ] Was because I thought you were such a snob. And the only reason I cared about that was because I felt so embarrassed to be the penniless Southern relation. With a few pennies, I wouldn't have been so defensive.
[ The little smile that lifts the corner of his mouth is full of loathing - for himself, for having put up with those terrible people, as much as it is for the terrible people themselves. ]
It would have been nice not to have licked those boots. It is infuriating that no justice has ever come to most of them.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Maferath never sounded that awful to me.
[ A subject for another time, maybe. ]
I don’t call you anything. My Byerly, [ with a tone just like my darling, ] but not…
no subject
[ Is mostly facetious. ]
And perhaps that's enough. My Bastien. [ Though he thinks a moment. ] Just - For some reason, it feels oddly impersonal, calling you that. Which it oughtn't. It's no less your name than the one you were born with.
no subject
But they move on to something a little more serious quickly enough, and he hums in understanding. ]
I was jealous, when you were gone—I was unhappy about everything I could find to be unhappy about, you know. But I was jealous that other people had words for it. Simple ones. Husband. Widow.
I can be such a peasant,
[ is a joke. Byerly, after all, is the one who’s brought labels up. ]
no subject
You wouldn’t know how to milk a cow if it started speaking Trade and gave you instructions.
[ But: ]
It would be ludicrous, wouldn’t it? Husband? After all, love matches only happen in operas. And I’d be a bigamist.
[ It doesn’t quite have all the derision one might expect, that bit of hypothesizing. ]
no subject
[ But it’s warming, to have those be the only reasons why not. ]
Mon conjoint? Companion? [ Sincere proposals. So sincere. Too sincere. ] Long-term sexual associate?
no subject
[ He interrupts - ]
Does this mean I can no longer call myself disinherited?
no subject
I’m not sure it counts, when it’s your—
[ see, here’s where a word is useful ]
—lover’s pile of money instead of your family home. Disinherited is much truer to who you are.
no subject
[ He gives a little flourish of his hand. The grin slips away a bit as he says - ]
It's all right, isn't it? That I don't really have anything to leave to you? Since I do not think that my beloved wife's family are going to change their minds and shower us with wealth any time soon.
no subject
[ His hold on By’s arm hasn’t loosened. It certainly doesn’t loosen now. ]
Besides, I like you rakish and broke. It’s romantic. If you did ever come into your own money, you’d have to lose it immediately, or else lose your appeal.
no subject
[ He laughs a little, and smiles at Bastien as he says - ]
I've enough of the nobility's poison in me that if I hadn't drunk deep of poverty, I'd be a nasty and envenomed little thing. But the tonic of rubbing elbows with decent folk did cure me of it. Maybe the one thing I'm grateful to my father for.
[ Then: ]
Conjoint isn't bad.
no subject
[ is not disagreement about conjoint, only with the subject change. ]
You wouldn't be nasty and envenomed. I have seen what you were like when you were small— [ thanks, Crossroads ] —and heard enough about it to know you were always sweet and always concerned about people being mistreated. If you'd had money, it only would have meant you had more means to do something about it. A few days of poverty might be good for empathy, but a life of it is only good for desperation.
And maybe you would be a little snobby about some things, [ he admits, fairly, ] but I would have fixed you within a week of meeting you.
no subject
Well, one week once you started working on the project. You'd spend three years being immensely irritated by me, first. I've seen how you interact with that sort of person. Remember Davide?
no subject
[ asks Bastien with such disinterested lack of concern at his apparently faulty memory that it is clearly an insult rather than a genuine question.
Davide—Davide who still likely thinks Bastien likes him quite well, having been excluded from the microexpressions directed as his turned back. ]
But alright. One week after first being impressed by you. But that would not have taken three years.
no subject
[ Obviously so. Davide was a decently good-looking fellow, in his Antivan way, but not like Byerly. ]
no subject
[ Yes he can. ]
And since you are prettier than anyone.
no subject
It's so good to have my qualities recognized.
[ Then - ]
How long would it have taken?
no subject
As long as it would take you to get around to showing off on your violin. So I don’t know.
[ How long could Byerly possibly stand to be in the presence of musicians without busting out the fiddle? ]
Five minutes?
no subject
Rude. Also, I know it'd take more than that. You don't fall that easily.
no subject
He admits, ]
I didn’t like you at all for a month or so. If you’d been rich and snobby I might have held out for four times as long.
And that is only to like you, [ he clarifies, ] as a friend.
no subject
[ He flutters his eyelashes at Bastien. ]
Also, the process was sped along by the crimes we did together - don't forget that. Rich Byerly wouldn't be doing crimes.
no subject
[ He misses them still. Even if they are probably too old and too slow to be climbing into windows anymore, trespassing in a garden or three now and then would be nice. ]
How long do you think it would have taken you to like me? Or to notice me at all, while you were busy spending all of your money fine clothes and food for orphans.
no subject
Only the finest of silks for the orphans. Just so.
The only reason I didn't like you at first - [ And an apologetic little grin at that, over the fact that there was ever any moment that he didn't like Bastien - ] Was because I thought you were such a snob. And the only reason I cared about that was because I felt so embarrassed to be the penniless Southern relation. With a few pennies, I wouldn't have been so defensive.
no subject
[ He doesn’t mean himself. He means Byerly’s terrible cousin and his cousin’s terrible friends. ]
Maybe that would have balanced out the absence of crime.
no subject
[ The little smile that lifts the corner of his mouth is full of loathing - for himself, for having put up with those terrible people, as much as it is for the terrible people themselves. ]
It would have been nice not to have licked those boots. It is infuriating that no justice has ever come to most of them.
no subject
It isn't too late.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)