milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

There is a lot of activity at the stables today. Valjean managed to track Javert down yesterday (despite concerted efforts by the latter to avoid him), and persuaded him to donate his stockpile of spare bricks to the repair effort. They have to be brought over from the church building site, so Javert is rolling piles over in a wheelbarrow while Valjean knocks the fire-damaged wooden planks out of the back of the stables. There are some large bags of supplies ready to be mixed into mortar, and Valjean is hoping to get the two worst damaged stalls fixed by nightfall.

At least one of the two will welcome help!

[OOC: I've just had an hour of my life cruelly stolen, so I'm going to crash pretty soon. Feel free to threadhop if desired, and I'll be around all day tomorrow to continue. Thanks to all who've tagged! <3]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He hesitates. It is not his place to speculate.

'Well, it appears that way to me, but William and Security will know for sure. There are only two stalls with fire damage, which seems rather too precise for something that might have started by accident - and there are few things in with the animals themselves that could start it. I would expect an accidental blaze to begin in the area where people keep their coffee machines, or the like.'

But it is only his view (though he does not think he is wrong).

Elrond nods, slowly.
"It was an angry blaze, but as you say, quite confined," he agrees. "I hope it is not so, but I agree that it is hard to see how it could have come about by accident."

'I am sure they will get to the bottom of it.'

In the meantime, he will help fix things! He rather enjoys this work, he has found.

'There are many sorts of people who come here; I am glad I do not have to police them all.'

Elrond smiles a little.

"I would have to agree," he says. "It is admirably done by others."
And it is nice not being the one in charge.

"So - removal of the damaged wood. Do you want the pile any place in particular or just out of the way?" he asks, as he unlaces his tunic.

Valjean will happily leave that particular responsibility to others, yes.

'I think we may pile it somewhere away from anything, and then burn it to nothing when we are finished. There is little use for it now, and having it clutter the place may only invite more risk of fire.'

Elrond nods and rearranges his braids, making sure they will stay out of his face.

Then he sets to work, methodically freeing the charred timber and carrying it away.

He has always found joy in simple tasks such as these. They leave the mind free to wander and usher in rest at night. And sometimes, rest needs a helping hand.

Pulling at a plank that is particularly stubborn, he finds himself singing an old shanty under his breath. Pulling oars and dragging wood do share some similarities, at least as far as the beat goes.

'What is that you are singing, monsieur?' Valjean asks, after listening for a while.

'It is easy on the ear.'

Elrond looks over at him.

"It's an old seafarer's song. My father was a sailor, so I remember hearing it as a small child."

He smiles a little.
"It's the usual fare. Hopes for fair weather, longing for shore and home, complaints of sore arms."
It may not sound that way though. The Elven tongues lend a certain class to everything.

His face closes over a little, but he still smiles.

'Sailors do have excellent songs, for the most part.'

A little rough, sometimes lewd, but he spent enough enforced time by the sea to be immune to the worst of them.

He nods.

"They work well when one needs to set a rhythm and keep to it," he says. "Pulling oars or dragging wood."

'Yes.'

Yes. That is all he is going to say about that.

Elrond rolls his shoulders and changes the subject.

Emotions are like currents in the water, beneath low hanging branches, like movements beneath the undergrowth in the dimness of the forest. You feel it more than you see it. And it pays to heed it.

"Were any animals or people harmed? Do you know?"

He is grateful for the change, and it probably shows.

'Not to my knowledge, monsieur. I saw one or two being treated for breathing in smoke, but that is all. We were very lucky, all told.'

"Yes, we have been," Elrond agrees. "And a renovation was likely not amiss here. Wood will only last so long."

He shoulders another plank, paying the soot no heed.
Reply to this Thread from start Parent

'Even in a magic place, it seems. They are very well built, but a move to brick cannot hurt and it is not an arduous job.'

Truth be told, he is glad of a job to do.

'And how fare you, monsieur? Are you still preparing to leave your land?'

"I am," Elrond replies. "And whenever I am done going through the contents of one room it seems as if I turn around only to find ten more, even more full of papers and books and trinkets."

He is exaggerating. But not by much.

"And I hope your daughter is well?"

Valjean cannot really relate to this, as he keeps so few possessions they can be moved in one single carriage with room to spare. Such is a fugitive's lot.

But he does not consider that now: Elrond says the magic word, and his face splits into a smile. A real smile, such as he rarely shows.

'She is, monsieur, thank you. She has been taking very good care of me.'

Elrond smiles in return.

"I spoke a little with her some time ago. She has a loving heart."
An innocent and loving heart.

'She does.'

He could not look any more happy, or proud.

'She has always been that way. The nuns in Paris educated her very well, but her goodness comes from her mother, I think. She comes here now too, and Cosette has had a chance to know her. This is truly a place of miracles.'

Elrond's smile turns soft.
"It is good for a girl to have her mother close,"he agrees. "Even with a father who loves her."

He is in full agreement.

'It is. And her mother is so good, and loved her so much. I am grateful Cosette has the chance to see it for herself.'

Because he could never tell her much before. Now, she can find out for herself. He can hardly believe such gifts have been given, and he is nothing but grateful for them.

Elrond shifts his hold on the plank a little. "I had not imagined that there was such a place anywhere," he says slowly. "Where those gone and those left behind could meet and converse."

'Nor I, monsieur.'

But that smile again. It shows how glad he is of it. Milliways might be trying in other ways, but all that is worth it for the things it offers in return.

'Do you hope to meet anyone here from your home?'

Elrond looks thoughtful.
"I miss my wife sorely but I know I shall see her at the end if my travels," he says.
And he is not quite ready to tell her if their children. Not yet.

"My king perhaps. I know not if he will have been released from the Halls of Mandors when I arrive and I miss his company."

'I did not realise you had a king.'

Though it is probably not a surprise. There are kings everywhere.

'But what are the Halls of Mandors? You make it sound as though he is a prisoner.'

(no subject)

starrydome - 2016-03-30 05:03 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only