theo. (escutcheon) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-05-19 10:10:00 |
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He had planned this particular visit out ahead of time, and had made the effort of returning to the Finch estate early in preparation. Theo intended on spending his time in the kitchen for this matter, and had toiled around the stove to create something of a care package--his culinary skills would be easily recognizable inside every wrapping and container. Perhaps it was his way of more easily relaying his feelings, as difficult of a thing that the effort had always been for the berserker--one who did not easily excel at the delicate efforts of words and speech, and instead moved through life much as he did in battle. There wasn’t much room for gentleness and subtlety in most of his efforts with those around him, even those he cared for, but Theo did at times make an effort (in his own way). And so it was that he eventually found his way to the doorstep of the Albrecht estate, towering over the first servant to answer the door and asking to see his former student. Theo was no longer dressed in his usual fighter’s attire, looking now more acceptable to a personal visit--curious even, with the basket underneath his arm (one the servant unsuccessfully tried to relinquish from him). Theo stomped purposefully behind his escort, making his way to Juliette and wondering on all the things he might say. The Countess’ estate was very fine, and though the hostess herself seemed forgiving of all manner of peculiarities from her temporary tenants, it was the servants’ glances that discomfited Juliette into behaviors she had shed months ago. Being otherwise unengaged this afternoon, she had settled in with a book in the library, but even for this innocuous task felt the unspoken pressure to pull a dress from her closet and spend an inordinate amount of time braiding and pinning back her hair. Of all people, she did not wish to reflect poorly on Countess Albrecht. She did feel rather foolish, however, when it was announced that she had a visitor, and that visitor turned out to be Lord Finch -- who was also dressed in an unfamiliar manner, leading her to the thought that they both likely seemed fish out of water, however hard they tried in their respective ways. She agreed to have tea brought just to get the maid to leave, then offered a hesitant smile to the man who had come to see her. “What a pleasant surprise,” she said, and, for once, meant it. She had been worrying about him, in the time she had to spare to worry about anyone -- his injuries had been severe, and his recovery was a matter of grave concern. He looked fit enough today, however, which added to her pleasure in seeing him. “Won’t you sit?” she asked, gesturing to the leather chair across from hers, shooting one curious glance at the basket. “Aye,” Theo said with a stern nod, looking about the unfamiliar room with an awkward amount of interest. This meeting was most unlike what the two were most accustomed to, a pair of fighters more at ease around the guildhalls, he suspected to himself, than something to the current effect. He strode over to the chair and took a seat regardless, setting his basket on the table in front of them. A gift, and a surprise one at that. Theo wasn’t known to often be so generous, but like in so many other ways, Juliette was often considered an exception. He stuck his dour attention on her like a loyal gargoyle, sombre but attentive. “Doing well here?” He made a sweeping gesture with one hand, indicating the room and the greater estate beyond. Juliette gave another curious look at the basket, but didn’t reach for it -- not until invited to do so. Perhaps it was the setting that made her particularly mindful of her manners; though she suspected the basket likely contained something for her, she couldn’t possibly ask about it until he offered. Instead, she answered his question, perhaps more honestly than she might have done for someone else (after a furtive glance around to ensure no eavesdropping servants): “It is… a bit odd,” she said. “The Countess is kind to aid us, but I… find the situation itself somewhat disconcerting.” Alys and her husband under the same roof when surely they should have been voyaging to celebrate their marriage, the Countess, unflappable as always, and for some time, the Duke, too, which had added an additional layer to her discomfort. Not to mention Lord Norwood’s obvious disdain for Boris (a worry for another day, that). “I am certain our hostess will be pleased when we relinquish her home back to her.” Surely she was accustomed to being sole mistress of this (admittedly very spacious) domain. “And yourself?” she asked. “How are your injuries? You appear well.” Theo gave a thoughtful and concerned grunt toward Juliette’s concerns. He had been so caught up with his troubles, the berserker had not even considered such details. A complicated state it must have been, he thought now, for a young woman to find herself in. Feeling responsible for Juliette yet--even if she was no longer his squire, he allowed the information to roam his thoughts. “Aye, better,” he admitted, scrubbing a hand through his hair absently. Attempting to duel the Sage herself had been something of a foolhardy action, he suspected now. He had barely scraped by with his life, and only in thanks to Darius, but the effort had certainly seemed his only true course at the time. A berserker’s overconfidence, perhaps. “Finches are well enough,” he continued, confident that what damage there had been to the estate property would be repaired in a short amount of time. They could easily afford that much. Thinking of his family and his home, however, Theo’s expression shifted, turning from dour to thoughtful. “You’ve thought to stay elsewhere?” He absently waved a hand toward the basket, watching Juliette and waiting for her to inspect his culinary offerings. “My family’s former estate is in the process of being rebuilt,” she answered. “Lord Norwood is without much property in the city; the three of us will move there, once it is habitable.” And without the Countess for buffer, it would be even more uncomfortable but… it was meant to be a large place. And she had been promised that Lord Norwood wouldn’t try to marry her off, so she had best make peace with living there for a good, long while. She would just keep herself and the dog both out of the way. These thoughts were a bit disconcerting, but fortunately, she was finally free to peruse the contents of the basket, exhibiting a pleased smile as the scents rose to her nose -- the tang of a lemon cream sauce, the unmistakably pleasant aroma of grilled shrimp underneath, what looked to be a lightly dressed salad, some sort of mix of vegetables, a sliced loaf of fluffy white bread -- a feast, in actuality, far more suited to a fine luncheon as opposed to a casual visit, all neatly packaged for transport. “This looks wonderful,” she said, trying to mask her surprise (it had been some time since he had made her a full meal, though when she had trained daily with him, it had been known to happen, especially at first). “To what do I owe the surprise?” The maid chose this moment to reappear, not with a tea service as expected but with a tray laden with utensils and plates and a pitcher of what appeared to be lemonade (clearly, the staff here had an uncanny ability to know things before the estate’s inhabitants did). Theo had leaned back in the chair as she spoke with a look of stern contemplation building on his face. He moved his arms across his chest, mulling over her complicated state of being (one that was clearly causing her unrest) and allowing Juliette to inspect the contents of the offered basket as she liked. It gave him time to ponder, and as she looked back up to the maid’s return, Theo had devised something of a solution in his head. Berserkers were known to go charging headlong at problems, after all, and this was certainly no different. What else needed to be considered, when responsibility demanded he attempt to help his former squire? “Been a while,” he said, shrugging his massive shoulders, “since our lessons.” A reasonable enough response, he considered, but he shifted up in the chair slightly as he continued. “Other solutions available, aside from that lot,” he asserted, looking her in the eye. “Room enough at the Finch estate, for one.” It was fortunate she had no food in hand when he spoke, for she surely would have dropped it. She settled, instead, for blinking owlishly at him in utter shock. “I,” she said, and stopped. What did a proper young lady say, she wondered a bit hysterically, when asked to move into the domicile housing two unmarried gentlemen, even if it was not at all that sort of invitation? “That is… extremely kind,” she managed a last, trying not to stammer, suddenly extremely interested in the bread, “but I think Alys -- and the Countess -- would -- that is, I…” Well, of course they would object! But he was the sort not to be bothered by familial disapproval, and as for her own feelings on the matter… “I could… stay here, if I preferred not to go with them, I think,” she said. If she dared ask -- which she didn’t, of course. It had only occurred to her once, the idea quickly dismissed. “I -- I will attempt not to disrupt my sister’s new life of course, but I… we spent most of our lives apart.” She rescued me from a fate I thought worse than any I could imagine; how could I leave her now? “I do not think I ought… our new home will have room enough certainly, that we will all… coexist peacefully. And you -- your family -- I would never dare to impose thus.” And not to mention what everyone else would say. Another Coulombe scandal! She couldn’t fathom it. “Aye,” was all Theo had to say in reply. He had watched her stammer through the entirety of her speech with the same serious expression. Perhaps it had been too forward, he reflected now, but he had never been blessed with subtly. That she had dismissed the idea, however, was entirely her choice--and thus he could only concede. Uncrossing his arms, he moved a hand up to scratch absently at his chin (and regardless of his current attire, Theo had not properly shaved, the stubble grown from several days apparent on his face). “Bring the dishes to the offices,” he said, nodding to the items he’d brought and carving a path through the conversation with the same delicacy he aspired to on a battlefield. Theo expected that she still remembered her way around the EKP, after all. “Oh, I -- you aren’t staying?” she asked. Had she offended him with the refusal? But surely he understood the many reasons she had had to say no! “I will bring them,” she said after a moment, a bit defeated. She felt as though she had misstepped somewhere, but it was difficult to fathom where it had occurred. “I apologize if I have somehow… given offense. That has never once been my intent towards you.” Theo frowned again, obviously confused now. His thoughts now jumbled around the entirety of Juliette’s reactions and their possible meanings, and he found that he could barely do more than grunt out a reply. “Can stay a while,” he offered after several moments, uncertain as how to best proceed. “If you want to talk.” “I’d like that,” she said, trying to hide the fact that she was pathetically grateful. Even if she was uncertain what they could discuss, aside from the state of affairs within the guild. He hadn’t moved at all from his position in his chair, and did little but shift now, crossing his arms again the more he toiled over the conversation. Finding something easy to converse about (and now he lamented lack of training rooms and guildhall) was a challenge, but Theo groped around for something simple. “To your liking, aye?” He gestured toward the food. “It looks delicious,” she confirmed, beginning at last to use the plates and silverware which had been brought for their intended purpose, making up one plate and offering it to him before she made one for herself. “I particularly favor this recipe,” she admitted, though all things considered, it seemed he already knew that. Why else would he have chosen this particularly fussy sauce for her? “I never have been able to duplicate it, although I have attempted, once or twice.” “With more practice,” Theo said, a gruff attempt at reassurance toward her culinary skills. Inwardly, he felt a certain degree of pride that he had chosen the menu well. “Once all is settled perhaps,” he suggested after a moment, scratching at his chin and considering how long it might have been since they had shared a kitchen space. She smiled and told him, “If you have the time, I would enjoy that. Perhaps another dinner for the guild, sometime?” It had been a very long time since she’d assisted in such an endeavor, and she thought she might offer more aid now than when she was still learning. “Your schedule permitting, of course.” “Aye,” he said in agreement, hopeful though his heart felt hesitant (a lingering concern looming behind most of his recent thoughts), “schedule permitting.” |