(no subject)

[road_to_calvary]

Valjean has spent the majority of today's daylight hours walking around the lake. He is cold when he comes in, and wet from the earlier rain, but it is nothing a spell by the fire will not put right. Bar provides hot tea and a biscuit - which he does not refuse - and that will do him for the evening; he takes an armchair, and soon loses himself by staring into the flames.

He could probably use a distraction. He is not a man who does well being left to his own thoughts for too long.

Comments

[ostro_goth]

And a distraction soon arrives, in the shape of Teja carrying his small harp, casually followed by two cats.

"Greetings, Jean Valjean," he says. "Today, we may finally have time for music, rather than urgent, dire talk."

[road_to_calvary]

'Good evening, Teja.'

He smiles. It's tired, but obviously genuine.

'I would enjoy music, I think.'

[ostro_goth]

Teja sits on a chair by the fire, near Valjean, and sets his harp upon his lap.

"What kind you music would you wish to hear?" he asks. "Wordless melodies? Ballads of my people? Songs from the future?"

[road_to_calvary]

'Not wordless.'

He does not need melancholy tunes to go with his thoughts.

'But I will trust your judgement otherwise.'

[ostro_goth]

Teja nods, and starts playing; he has decided to start with songs from the future, and the first he plays is 'Stairway To Heaven'.

One of the cats, the little black one, sidles up to Valjean and sniffs at his trouser leg.

[road_to_calvary]

He remains still, so as not to startle the small cat. And the music is pleasant enough, if nothing like anything he recognises.

'Where is this from?' he asks, when it is finished.

[ostro_goth]

Getting bolder, the black cat rubs its face on Valjean's ankle.

"It is from England, about 140 years in your future," Teja answers.

[road_to_calvary]

'It is very different.'

He reaches down and strokes his hand over the cat's head, almost without thinking.

'But I know nothing of English music.'

[ostro_goth]

"For some reason I have never fathomed," Teja says, "many of the songs of the future are in English."

Emboldened, the cat rubs its face against Valjean's hand.

[1stwitness]

Ichabod has been doing much the same, almost all the time he's been here since he found out the truth.

Staring into the fire, thinking, trying to plan...

He looks up when he notices the older man's presence and offers a nod of acceptance, in case Valjean thinks he might be disturbing him.

[road_to_calvary]

He nods in return, wordlessly accepting another's presence. He has no wish to disturb, so does not speak. It is good to sit and get warm again, and if the other fellow does not wish conversation, then silence it shall be.

[1stwitness]

"Good evening", he says after a little while, in the interests of politeness to a temporary neighbour. (Being rude bothers him, all the more now nothing else is left of his old life.)

[road_to_calvary]

'Good evening, monsieur,' he murmurs in return, and pulls his gaze back to the other man.

Valjean is generally polite, but is also not the most proficient with social graces after years of solitude.

'I can move, if you would prefer.'

It is all the same to him now he is dry.

[1stwitness]

"I wouldn't hear of it." He shifts slightly in his chair. "The fireplace is not mine alone, there is room for both of us. Ichabod Crane", is offered as introduction.

[road_to_calvary]

Another nod, this time to acknowledge the introduction.

'Jean Valjean.'

There is something about that name that brings the crease of a frown to his forehead, but it is no matter.

'Are you new to this place?'

[1stwitness]

"Somewhat", he confirms. "Perhaps a week and a half, as the calendar here runs. Yourself?"

[road_to_calvary]

'Ah.'

His face gives nothing away.

'That is new indeed. I am a little better off, having been here for almost two months now.'

If being locked in counts as better off.

[the_cupbearer]

Ganymede is always a distraction, whether positive or negative.

Today it might be difficult to decide; he comes in with a glass of something in his hand that is not water, but vodka, and the smell of cherry-scented cigarette smoke clinging to him. He's laughing as he sits on the arm of the couch by Valjean.

"You look troubled, Jean."

[road_to_calvary]

He raises his eyebrows and the laughing, and the smell both. But it raises his spirits to see happiness in others, and despite the exhaustion that clings to him, he smiles in response.

'And you look happy, Ganymede.'

[the_cupbearer]

"I came from a party, they tend to make me happy," he says--contrary to the drink in his hand, he's not at all inebriated, and slides down into a seat on the couch gracefully.

"What's on your mind?"

[road_to_calvary]

'Good. I am glad.'

He is, too.

As to the question, he merely smiles.

'It is so obvious, then?'

He had thought he was rather good at hiding anxiety - but then, he rarely sees people anymore, so perhaps he is out of practice.

[the_cupbearer]

"To someone who's seen that look more times than I can count...yes," he says. "Staring into a lit fireplace tends to give you away."

He shifts to tuck his legs up, looking at Valjean. "You can talk to me, you know. I don't bite, unless you're into that."

[road_to_calvary]

His eyebrows nudge upwards, but he does not seem disquieted by the insinuation.

'No doubt I could. Whether or not I should, that is something else. When it concerns another person, one needs to be careful. And seeing as you and the other person are acquainted...'

A minute shrug. It makes it more difficult, that is all.

[the_cupbearer]

"And that leads you to think I'd talk to them about what you say to me?" he asks.

[road_to_calvary]

'I do not know.'

Hardly the point.

'Would it make my actions any less reprehensible? Considering I know how he would feel about it.'

He looks down at his hands.

'Though I suppose it is too late to consider these things. I would make myself a hypocrite.'