milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Ichabod is sitting, a glass of something in hand, staring at the door.

Occasionally, he shifts as if he might get up and go to it, but always seems to reconsider.

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"Is your door locked for you?" enquires a gentleman who is sitting at a nearby table, with a stack of books in which he is apparently looking something up.

"No", he answers politely. "At least, not on the day I arrived. I am... debating the merits of opening it."

"What do you think awaits you on the other side?" the gentleman enquires politely.

"The unknown." He smiles wryly. "Which is precisely the problem."

"You won't know if you want it until you look at it," the gentleman agrees. "How did you happen to come in from the unknown?"

"I woke up in a shallow grave, with little to no idea how I got there, or indeed where I was beyond 'a cave'", Ichabod says flatly.

"And from there, you immediately came here?" the gentleman asks. "That must be very disconcerting. I can imagine your apprehension."

"I was attempting to leave the cave and found myself here", he confirms.

"So presumably, the door will lead back to the cave," the gentleman surmises.

"It would seem most likely. Or to whatever lies beyond it."

"You could of course just stay here," the gentleman says.

"I could." He eyes the door. "But that seems to me a rather cowardly course of action."

"So," the gentleman says, "you best go out there carefully, and armed."

"I think you may be right. The owner of the forge has offered me the pick of his available weapons."

"He makes very good swords," the gentleman says. "I should commission a set of kitchen knives from him. His folded steel is quite amazing."

"Then I'll be sure to go to him before I leave."

"What happened before the cave?" the gentleman enquires.

"I was wounded. After that, I remember very little."

"So they might have taken you for dead and buried you there?" the gentleman guesses.

"It does seem the most likely explanation. I remember hearing my wife's voice, I know she would not have knowingly buried me alive."

Well, she didn't... exactly.

"I do not know your wife," the gentleman says, "but I'd assume not."

"Some wives, perhaps." He smiles slightly. "Not Katrina."

"That is her name?" the gentleman says. "Do you expect to find her again on the other side of the door?"

"I can only hope. It can't have been long since I was buried."

...ahahahahaha.

"No, you wouldn't have survived very long, even in a shallow grave," the gentleman says.

"Precisely." His eyes stray to the door again.

"Would you like to try now?" the gentleman says.

"...I must confess, I am unsure."

He's afraid, at the core.

"What makes you hesitate?" the gentleman enquires.

"A certain reluctance to explore what may await me."

"Hence, the need to go armed," the gentleman nods.

"And work up to the final moment."

"Apprehension is certainly justified," the gentleman agrees.

"And yet, eventually... I must go."

"The only way to resolve the apprehension," the gentleman says.

"Indeed."

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