Who: Eliot, Erik and Judith What: The carriage ride home back to the hotel/London. When: Friday morning Where: On the road Warnings: Language Status: Complete
Eliot spent Thursday buried in preparations for the ball, doing the minimum amount of socializing required of him by Lord Renton. Mr. Rovia’s disappearance had cast a dark shadow on the day, with the prevailing rumors from the house staff being that Judith either murdered and ate him, or that she was a witch that had turned him into a dog.
Eliot lamely explained to Lord Renton that Mr. Rovia was a quarter Blackfoot and was prone to wandering around on foot. It also explained the long hair. Sort of.
It was a very chilly farewell on Friday morning. Farewells were only half hearted and there was relief to be going back to the hotel. Eliot had still not looked up from his journal almost the entire time. Judith hadn’t taken his concerns seriously when Eliot showed her the private messages where Jesus had called him tame.
Not him, precisely, but close enough.
While Eliot was working on ball preparations, Erik and Judith had been socializing enough to make up for how little their companion was doing. Of course, Lord Renton wasn’t nearly as happy with their company after the display they’d put on their first day, but societal pressure kept him polite enough to accept their company.
Despite the fun, Erik wasn’t disappointed when it came time to leave. They’d had their fun, and he had a feeling if they stayed another day, they might have been leaving on very different circumstances. A permanent half-smile had made its way onto his lips in the carriage, his arm resting comfortably around Judith’s shoulders.
“Funny, I think Lord Renton might have been relieved to see us go,” Erik said, sounding mildly offended, still smirking.
Judith hummed a small chirp of amusement at Erik’s words, her eyes shifting briefly through the window to see the estate weaving away in their background. Like him, she was ready to leave despite the particular enjoyment they’d gotten out of the strange two days. Part of her couldn’t wait to retell the highlights of the trip to her father. She had a feeling he’d need a good laugh.
“I’m surprised none of them went out of their way to save you,” she murmured in the same mild tone, glancing up at him over her shoulder, smirk in place. Then her attention swung to Eliot, her expression lightening. She exhaled. “You would’ve had a lot more fun with this without being wound up over a single word, you know.”
“Easy for you to say,” Eliot muttered. “Erik didn’t leave you for a horse.”
Eliot looked over his last page of notes, ripped out the paper and crumpled it in his fist, lit in on fire with the flame licking out between his fingers before turning over his hand and scattering the ash on the floor of the carriage.
Despite the flat sarcasm practically dripping from his voice, Judith knew he was still obsessing, still driving himself insane for no good reason. Whether it was simply part of his nature or something born from his stay at the hotel, she couldn’t say for sure; either way, she cared and wanted to give him some reassurance. Especially since she seemed to have a specific insight to Jesus’s reasoning.
“Did he tell you anything about what he came from?” she asked, her eyebrows arched. “He’d been on his own for a year- the most socialization he’s had was probably the dogs or raccoons he had to fend from whatever food he found. He talks to you once, then follows you into unfamiliar territory, and survives a full day in the most rigid social structure he’s ever seen? Are you really that self-unaware?” Her tone may have been firm, but there was kindness in it- maybe even a tiny bit of amusement. She’d seen the way Eliot watched Jesus and it had been reciprocated, if in a way only she seemed to notice.
One could see the words permeating Eliot’s thick skull to the very second that they clicked.
“Oh fuck--” he said. “...He’s going to hate the ball. What the fuck am I doing?” His eyes went a little wild as he went back through his notes. “I should have started something smaller, more exclusive. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck…”
Judith huffed, sat up on the edge of her side of the seat cushion, and yanked Eliot’s journal away so she had his full attention.
“Stop,” she breathed at him with a small good-natured grin. “Don’t you get it? He stayed. For a long fucking time. People like him don’t linger where they’re that unfamiliar unless there’s something worth it.” She gave the journal back, lest he have half a mind to turn her into a cat or whatever the hell magicians did on reflex. “He just needed some breathing room. You keep doing you- that’s what he stayed for.”
Eliot breathed, slowly, in and out, trying to process her words. It seemed to work. The magician appeared to calm down slightly, saying, “I like it when you swear.” Which was really just his way of thanking her for being a good friend. “What did you think of him?” Eliot looked at both Judith and Erik, though he didn’t expect much input from Erik.
Erik had been watching the exchange with mild amusement. He could see similarities between Jesus and Judith, mostly in their eyes. Jesus’s were more frantic than Judith’s, but they had the same, always-searching look in them, ever aware of and expecting danger. He met Eliot’s gaze with a twitch of one eyebrow and a shrug.
“He was entertaining,” he said honestly. He knew Eliot was looking for more than that. “He kept eye contact with you longer than anyone else, and spent half of his time watching you when you weren’t looking.” Judith had some understanding of how Jesus felt because they came from the same world, but Erik understood his isolation. He’d endured six years of it before arriving at the hotel. “He’s far more social than I was when I first arrived.”
Judith agreed in a way that clearly showed in her expression; she leaned back to her comfortable position against Erik, waiting until he’d finished giving his insight before adding a bit of her own.
“He’s not broken.” That was important, and a definite compliment coming from her. “He gave me an almond.”
“An almond?” Eliot said. His lips formed a flat line as he tried to process on a scale from good news to not, how good it was. Judith seemed to think it was good news. He seemed to remember something, shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and pulled out a sizable decanter of a strange, green liquid and sat it next to him. “Concealment spell was starting to fade. So the drink menu. Nothing laced with cocaine. Wine and champagne? Is that too dull?”
Judith watched him process the information, though she couldn’t be sure if he actually reached a firm conclusion; either way, something shifted when he did. He was obviously better off than his broody self a few minutes earlier, so she counted it as a win.
Same with the sudden appearance of stolen absinthe. Judith chortled in her quiet way, idly lacing her fingers with Erik’s by her shoulder.
“A gentleman and a thief,” she accused affectionately. “Plan on sharing that at the party?” Her tone was warmer than normal, with very recent memories behind it, obviously associated with that drink.
“I’m not that generous,” Eliot said. “This is real absinthe. It’s illegal most places. Lord Renton didn’t appreciate it properly plus he’s rich and it won’t be illegal here for a while longer and he can afford to get more.” Eliot stroked the decanter fondly.
“Fair enough,” Judith chuckled. “Will you be sharing it with me?”
Eliot grinned. He was slowly going to wear down Judith’s resistance to drugs and intoxication. “Of course I am. I seem to recall someone offering me weed when there was very little to be had.”
Erik’s chuckle was similar to Judith’s, more of a half-chuckle that was accompanied by a smirk and the thought that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought to take any, himself. He could see the same glint in Eliot’s eyes that had been there several days before at the mention of cocaine, and gave a short sigh as he rubbed his thumb over the back of Judith’s hand.
“Your father’s going to be jealous,” he commented. That, or proud. Probably a mixture of both.
“I made Papa Bear a flask that never runs out of alcohol. He’ll live,” Eliot said.
“He'll still be jealous,” Judith hummed happily, maybe a little wicked, left over from the last couple days- or longer. “He’ll be sad he missed the fun.”
The rest of the carriage ride passed with similar quiet conversation. Now and then, Eliot asked a party question, which Judith was almost always the one to answer. Erik would lean over and murmur something into Judith’s ear, and Eliot complained about them sharing secrets.
When the carriage arrived back at the hotel, Erik had the realization that it actually felt like returning home.