EP: post-AU week

[harryhotspur]

Hotspur had a weird night-- but that will happen when you temporarily have two overlapping lifetimes' worth of strange dreams, instead of just the one. Actually, he had a weird morning as well. His memory of the last-- day? few days?-- is oddly hazy, in a way that makes him wonder if perhaps he was ill, though he feels perfectly well and normal now.

Plus there were two dogs in his room. Which is fantastic, of course. But they're not his dogs, they're dogs he's never seen before. Not that this stops him from bringing them down to the bar with him; one of them, the older, curls up beneath his chair, while the younger one sniffs around just in case anyone dropped anything on the ground that even remotely resembles food.

Hotspur himself sits at a table, making his way through a plate of eggs. He gives off a different kind of air than usual, somehow simultaneously more settled and more confident. This might be because of the other unexpected thing he found in his room this morning, which of course he strapped on and brought downstairs with him, because etiquette be damned.

Yes, at long last, Harry Hotspur has a sword. (But don't worry, he's not looking particularly inclined to use it.)

Comments

[tu_vas_triompher]

"Yes, a lake." He remembers the lake, too. And the sky; he remembers loving the sky. Feuilly tilts the sword in the light, as if the glints of reflection will turn themselves into clarity. In a way they do. "And I was--I remember, now, it was like being back in 1830, after the revolution. A very different kind of fighting than--than 1832."

A winning fight. Not the kind where you see one friend after another die.

He hands back the sword.

[harryhotspur]

Harry takes it and sheathes it again.

"I did not know thou hadst seen more than one fight," he says.

[tu_vas_triompher]

"Yes." He rubs Hector's ears. "Yes--in 1830 we forced Charles X from his throne. Meaning to establish a republic, but--another king was put in his place." He knows he's told Harry some of this, but in bits and pieces; it's rather a lot to keep track of. "I was in that fighting in 1830. I had a gun."

Feuilly smiles crookedly at Harry. "I didn't die that time."

[harryhotspur]

A laugh escapes in spite of himself.

"If thou hadst, 'twould be a marvel indeed," he says. But that's about all the joking on the subject he can muster. He flicks Lady some eggs as an excuse to look away. "Thou didst speak of-- but as if 'twas newly passed." He shakes his head again and laughs, though there's more than a slight edge of frustration to it. "O, this place!"

[tu_vas_triompher]

"This place," he agrees with feeling. This place. "When do you think it--oh, it's pointless, asking when or how long here. Everything seems ordinary up to around the 14th of July. --I don't feel sick. Do you?"

[harryhotspur]

"No," he agrees. "Nor weak, as if I had been." He leans across the table to get a closer look. "And thou look'st well."

A thought seems to strike him. "--was it the-- the blue ale?"

[tu_vas_triompher]

Feuilly holds still for inspection! He suspects that his hair is pointing out in many different directions at once, and he's still a bit bleary-eyed, but he's pretty sure he's not sick.

"--Blue--?" His getting-looked-over face knots into confusion and then amusement. He bites down on a smile. "Ah, yes. The blue--whatever it was. Um. I don't--it could be? But I didn't have any myself, so--"

[harryhotspur]

"O, true." Harry frowns. He reaches over to try and pat down a stray bit of Feuilly's hair, but soon gives up this effort, like their effort to figure out what the heck happened, for lost.

"Well, whatever it may have been, 'tis finished now. If we were ill, we are well, if drunk, now--" He falters. "O, God, I was drunk."

[tu_vas_triompher]

"Ehhh--" Feuilly is visibly searching for a way to deny it, and visibly failing. Eventually he just scratches his head--undoing any tiny progress Harry might have made on his hair--and says, "Well, you were. You were very drunk. Yes. I--can tell you that I always take Lesgle's word for it if he says a drink is strong."

That probably doesn't help, does it. "--You were very gallant about sharing a French holiday."

[harryhotspur]

"--gallant," he echoes. "That I doubt. I pray thy pardon-- though somewhat belated, I fear."

[tu_vas_triompher]

Feuilly shrugs; he's not about to argue gallantry with a knight. "It was good of you. And--thanks, but there's nothing to pardon." Maybe the fondness and sincerity of his smile will put Harry at ease? Or maybe not. He'd be pretty damned embarrassed himself--

"--Did I promise I'd try something like that myself on--on the next holiday?"

[harryhotspur]

There is a pause as he strives to remember-- then a smile spreads slowly across his face. "Why, so thou didst. But I will not hold thee to it."

[tu_vas_triompher]

Feuilly groans, a little theatrically--and gets looks of intense concern from both dogs. But their concern is satisfactorily met when Feuilly puts his plate down for them to lick, and turns to the rest of his coffee. "Well--we'll see, when the next holiday comes around. You said something about Lammas Day?"

[harryhotspur]

Harry laughs. "Ay, 'tis in August. A harvest holiday, a farmer's holiday, in truth I think I have never marked it. Truly-- I would not wish thee-- 'tis a foul vice, drunkenness," he says with genuine distaste.

[tu_vas_triompher]

He sips his coffee and laughs a little. "Well, it's not a habit I've ever taken up. But if you ever need to split a half-bottle of wine--drink to the happiness of the English people--yes, yes, and their dogs too, no I don't have any more for you, Hector--"

[harryhotspur]

"Look you, y'are plenty spoiled for one day," Harry says, swatting at the dogs. "We shall outside, in but a moment, do not fret."

He turns to Feuilly and begins to say something, but breaks off suddenly and gives him a speculative look. "I half recall... didst say, when we were in-- in t'other England... hast never ridden a horse?"

[tu_vas_triompher]

"Oh--" He scrubs a hand through his hair. "Well, no. No, it's never really, ah--no one has ever happened to hand me a horse and teach me to ride it." Feuilly's look is amused, apprehensive, hopeful.

[harryhotspur]

"It is the easiest thing in the world," says Harry, who was thrown on a horse at such a young age he has literally no memory of learning how to ride one. "I will show thee, it will take no time at all."

[tu_vas_triompher]

You can add doubt to Feuilly's mixed expression, but he shrugs. "Well--if it's a disaster, I can probably buy back Duncan's goodwill with carrots. --Yes, I'd like to know how to ride."

[harryhotspur]

"He is not so very big, as horses go, so thou wilt not have so far to fall," Harry says with cheerful confidence. He's being reassuring! Right?

[tu_vas_triompher]

"Uh-huh, and if he collapses under my great weight it's an even shorter fall. --You'll have to show me saddles, all of it, I don't know anything."

[harryhotspur]

"All of it," he agrees. "Whenever thou wilt."