(no subject)

[equal_of_any_man]

A young crusader walks into the bar, looking care-worn and shell-shocked. He orders a large hot chocolate and curls up in the corner, hugging the mug for its warmth. He closes his eyes and focuses on remembering how to breathe. He’s a least a couple of years older than he was last time anyone in the bar has seen him.

Feel free to bother him; he could do with the company.

Comments

[ostro_goth]

Teja is not bothering anyone; he sits by the fireplace, playing his harp.

But he does look up and notice the young man, and nods to him.

[equal_of_any_man]

Olivier opens his eyes in time to see Teja and nods back, bowing slightly over his hot chocolate. He listens to the harps song, letting the music carry him back to a calmness of soul he had been lacking.

[ostro_goth]

Teja keeps playing; he wonders if he knows the young man, but would not say for certain.

[equal_of_any_man]

Olivier waits for a break between songs and comes over. "Please sir, let me buy you a drink for your song. The music has soothed my storm greatly."

[ostro_goth]

Teja looks at him.

"I have seen you before, I think: - but you were much different," he says. "And yes, gladly -- thank you."

[equal_of_any_man]

"This place found me in the grief of my mother's death, near two years passed. You showed me kindness and give me a place. I thank you for that." He orders their drinks, breathing in the sweet, rich smell of the hot chocolate. "I was called Daoud then, Daoud of Antioch. I am called Olivier de Bretagne now."

[ostro_goth]

"That was mere days ago," Teja says. "The sickness had already started when you were here; and now, you are back, and it is still going."

Pause.

"Welcome back, Olivier!"

[equal_of_any_man]

"Truly? Doctor Lector was ill when I left. I made tea to help him recover. And so little time has passed?"

He bows a little roughly, his hands still shaking a little. "Thank you. How fair your cats?"

[ostro_goth]

"Doctor Lecter is still sick; he goes around being a very common-place man of good cheer, a builder, not a doctor," Teja says. "I am glad I seem to have been spared this time."

[street_sparrow]

"Daoud?" Gavroche settles quietly nearby, and with a word, sends his enormous mountain dog to lean against the other young man. "What's happened?"

[equal_of_any_man]

He reaches down to gently scratch behind the dog's ears. "Olivier." He corrects softly almost distantly as if the words barely reach him, "My name is Olivier now. There was a battle. They attacked the baggage train."

[street_sparrow]

He understands changing your name, and lets it pass without a blink.

"You joined an army?"

[equal_of_any_man]

He nods a little unsteadily, looking down at the stain of blood in his tunic cuff. "My first battle."

[street_sparrow]

"It's hard", Gavroche says quietly. "But you lived through it."

[equal_of_any_man]

"I did. Others I care about did not. They attacked the baggage train. The women and the young..."

[street_sparrow]

"The defenseless." It's still quiet, but with an edge of anger. "That's not right."

[equal_of_any_man]

"It is dishonourable and against the rules of war. Sir Laurence d’Angers will make them pay for what they have done." That certainty is all he has to hold onto at the moment.

[lt_blade]

It takes Sonya a moment to recognize him. He's older yes, but there's a worn look in his eyes that she knows all too well.

She takes a seat next to him, ordering a mug of mint tea. She's not about to insult him by ordering something alcoholic and in his state she doesn't trust that he'd go overboard even if his religion allowed it.

[equal_of_any_man]

He forces a smile to greet her, almost instinctively leaning towards the human warmth of her company.

[lt_blade]

Almost from instinct herself, she reaches an arm around him to grasp his shoulder and give it a squeeze.

"First time in combat?" She doesn't mind the forced smile: it's when a person is dead of any expression that she would worry.

[equal_of_any_man]

He nods, too numb to wonder how she knows. He leans into the one-armed hug gratefully. It takes a moment before he can marshal an answer. "I should not have been in the battle. I am only a squire. They... they attacked baggage train." His lips form a hard line as he tries to stop the shake in his voice.

[lt_blade]

With her free hand she secures the mug into his hands, as though it'll stop the shakes. "If you were older and not of Islam, I'd offer you something stronger."

"It's a common thing, unfortunately. Attacking baggage trains, supply routes-all are ways to weaken an oncoming army without putting ones own men at risk. It's something you have to keep watch for."

[equal_of_any_man]

He nods gratefully to the touch. "I am no-longer a son of Islam. I took my father's faith after last I was here. But thank you, I am happy with this. Chocolate exists nowhere in my world that I can yet find. It is a comfort of this haven."

He shakes his head, trying to keep his voice level and failing. "No. No, it is a terrible thing. Only a dishonourable enemy would attack the women and the young." It's the first time he's seen it happen and his faith in honour is deeply shaken.

[lt_blade]

"Sugar and caffeine do wonders in this case, and you're still too young to have alcohol, especially in this state." She didn't trust that he would hold it together.

Sonya shook her head, her hand taking hold of her own tea. "If there's one thing I know about war, it's that it's never truly 'honorable'-good men are killed, so are innocents, all the weaken the morale of the enemy or their strength. The only real honor is what you have inside: for your fellow soldiers, for those you serve under and defend-everything else is just reality."

She smiled, though it was hard to tell if it was from past memories or just what she was talking of.

[equal_of_any_man]

"We oft drink small ale and mead when the water is too sour to drink. I do not think anything stronger would be wise right now."

He nods, letting her words sink in along with the horrors of all he had seen this day. "My friend, Hugh. They killed him. So I... I took up his sword..." He puts the mug down, his hands shaking too hard now. "He was a good man and a good friend."