milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Caspian comes in looking tired but cheerful, and carrying something small and wooden. He orders tea, and then goes to sit by the fire, whittling away at what looks like a baby's rattle, shaking it every now and again to test out the sound.

Yup, a rattle, all right.

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"There you go again, with that whole stoic thing again! It's horribly out of fashion in Athens, thus I expect it also has in yur world too. And we are better for it."
She places her hand over his on her face, looking at him intensely with her large brown eyes.
"Troubles shared are lessened, and I am your friend. If I did not want to hear about them I would not ask. And you know I am not one for falsehoods or niceties."

He only smiles at her, his expression kind. And old. Much older than he looks.

"I thank you, Lysistrata. You are a true friend. But there is nothing to do about the troubles of my mind--they cannot be banished nor can they be acted upon." He holds up the rattle. "So I work, and I talk with my friends, and it is good. Now," he levers himself up. "It is getting late, and you need your rest. Shall I help you up to your room, or will you stay here for a while longer?"

Strata streches a bit and yawns.
"You can certainly help me to my room."
She gets up and lands a peck on his cheek before he can get up.
"You are...indescribably sweet, you know that?"

For a second, something like guilt flashes in his eyes, but then they clear and he smiles his usual smile at her. "You must bring it out in me." He offers her his arm.

"Shall we?"

Slowly, slowly they go up the stairs, and Caspian teases her lightly once again becoming nothing more than her dear friend.

Strata sees the look, but says nothing. She's overheard enough converrsations to know he's been spending time with someone else, but hides it, knowing that it is foolish to be so jealous.

They stop outside of her door.
"I think I can put myself to bed, don't you think?"
There's just a tiny bit of distance in her voice. The action alone of not inviting him in is enough to signify this.

"Of course," he replies, and there is no trace of resentment or acceptance in his voice, merely friendly concern. He leans forward and kisses her lightly on the cheek.

"Sleep well, Lysistrata."

And then turns and walks back down the stairs. It is well, he thinks. It is what I deserve.

Strata watches Caspian walk away, his shoulders slightly hunched. She disliked being so needlessly cruel; then again she had never experienced such jealousy of someone else.
Closing the door, she laughed bitterly at herself. There wasa wish she knew she could never have. She should just put it behind her. Ray was such a nice man, so kind, with a great smile.
But he's not Caspian.
No, he was not.
Strata shook her head at herself. No more mind games; she liked stating things directly, for better or for worse, and she would state stuff to Caspian tomorrow.
But what if he realy did prefer her?

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