(no subject)

[pro_patria_mortuus]

Spring has come to Milliways, in full warmth. The grass is greening, and the trees are in bud, and so forth. There are even trees in the mountains that are covered in pink flowers.

Were they there last year? Were they, in fact, there last week? Enjolras is not entirely certain on either count.

On the other hand: Milliways. He'll ask Bahorel, or Combeferre or Joly, if he thinks to bother, but he may not.

At any rate, he's sitting at the base of one of the pink trees, on a convenient flat rock. He has a book with him, as usual, but he's currently ignoring it in favor of an abstraction of thought.

Comments

[pro_patria_mortuus]

Enjolras smiles back, a small warm flash of amusement.

"Or demanded patience at every moment, on every subject."

They've worked through their disagreements, all of them, whenever they've arisen; worked to an agreement, or an agreement to disagree, or to a comfortable familiar wrangling over details with an understood bedrock beneath. But it's been work, at times.

And with anger, at times. Jean-Jacques Rousseau abandoned his children, but he adopted the people; he adopted the people, but he abandoned his children. It's not as if Feuilly and Enjolras have never disagreed sharply, especially in earlier years.

[tu_vas_triompher]

Yes. Well. Feuilly tends to be circumspect in his mentions of Rousseau: he's learned, from Enjolras and for Enjolras's sake, to appreciate Rousseau's works, but he's never felt warm admiration for the man.

But that's Rousseau, who isn't here. At the moment Feuilly is just glad to have found Enjolras, who is here, and who has as always helped with his insight. (Feuilly has never understood people who call Enjolras unworldly; he's uncosmopolitan, certainly, but never disconnected from anything important.)

He leans back against the trunk of the tree and stares up into the flowers. They really are remarkable. However they came to be here, they're welcome. "He is a good friend, you know. Harry."

[pro_patria_mortuus]

Enjolras glances at him; a little inquiring, but more affectionate.

"Yes."

Everything he's seen of Harry, and of Harry and Feuilly's regard for each other, has indicated that.