Who: Grantaire & Belle What: Random Run in Where: the park When: Saturday late afternoon/early evening Warnings: none Status: completed gdoc
Belle packed up her things and left the house, she dutifully let Wick know where she was going, then she walked to the park. She had a sketchbook and her pencils. She wasn’t the most artistic in the world, but she did like to draw things anyway. She tucked the bag over her shoulder, and tossed her hair out of her eyes, she enjoyed the fresh air and the freedom of this place. The city was lovely, but she missed the openness of her village.
One of the perks though was the forest and park. The park was perfect to go sit in and relax, and she was able to freely go there herself anytime she desired. She found a bench and set up her small easel. It wasn’t fancy, but she was happy with it. She clipped a flower to the side of the sketchbook and began to carefully sketch it, at the top she wrote the name of it a flowery, elegant French.
She smiled gently as she set her pencil down and rifled through her bag for her colored pencils, she pulled the box out and hit her head on the edge of the easel, knocking the sketchpad onto the ground. A quiet litany of old French spilled from her lips - proper and angry all at once as she rubbed her forehead.
Grantaire loved the park. Every time he visited there was something new for him to sketch or paint. Today was no exception, and the beginning sketch of a vibrant yellow orchid was taking shape on his canvas, for colour to be added later.
It was quiet here too, which he liked. Generally at this time of day there were not a lot of people around to disturb him, and he could simply focus on whatever he was working on and not whatever worries he otherwise had.
That general quietness was broken by the arrival of a young girl, he thought he might have recognised her from speaking on the computer, setting up her easel at the next park bench along from him. He couldn't help but laugh quietly when she dropped her things and cursed in a steady stream of perfect French.
Rising from his own seat he moved to join her, picking up the fallen book to hand to her. "You should be more careful, mademoiselle," he responded in the same language.
Belle took the book with a grateful smile, she was rarely lacking in grace but she'd just been able to take the brace off her arm and it was still a little weak from lack of use. Her grip was not quite back yet. "Merci, Monsieur. I hope I did not disturb you with my clumsiness." While she spoke carefully, she was clearly a native speaker, it was a slightly older sounding dialect.
She took a moment, without turning her back to him or ignoring him, to set everything back in its place. She gave it a Look as if it would stay just because she glared at it all. Then she gifted the man with a cheerful smile.
"It is a lovely day to be out drawing, is it not?" Her eyes were almost sparkling, she simply loved a nice day. Normally she'd be found reading but even she needed to change it up from time to time. And she seemed excited to be conversing with someone in her language, too, of the look on her face was anything to go by.
He could tell that she was from a different time from him by the way she spoke, but not so far removed that he did not understand her. Though he had studied literature, and maybe that worked in his favour. "No, you were no bother."
He considered the subject she had chosen for her own drawing as she set it in place. It was, in fact, a flower from the very plant he had begun sketching himself. "It is. The weather is pleasant and did not suit spending time indoors." Some days, he preferred to spend time hidden away. Today though, his mood was agreeable to this sort of activity.
"I think we may have spoken when you arrived. Or spoken by writing, anyway. I am Grantaire."
She was grateful to hear she hadn't bothered him. That made things easier, in truth, because while she was intelligent, well read and well spoken, she was socially shy and easily embarrassed. She was learning to overcome this shortcoming but it was taking time.
"It is not home, but it is lovely nonetheless. It is certainly not a day to be inside, there is so much life today." Flowers were in bloom, the air carried the scents of various blossoms, the animals were active and she broke into a wider smile as a butterfly landed for a moment on her easel.
"Yes! We did in fact, I am Belle. I remember. I am sorry it took me this long to recall. I'm still learning these devices, it is much easier to place names to faces once I have met them in person." She gave him a little half curtsy, feeling a touch bad she hadn't remembered. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you!"
"No, it is certainly not home," he agreed. Though they were from different times and different places he had no doubt the sentiment was shared. "There is something new to miss about Paris every day. But places like this help. Where is it in France you are from?" At least he assumed she had been living in her home country.
"You don't need to apologise," he assured. "It is an odd way to communicate and I am still getting used to it myself." He often forgot until long into the conversation to introduce himself. Something done much sooner in person.
"Have you been drawing long?" It was always nice to meet someone with a shared interest. Something in common to talk about. It removed any of that potential awkwardness that came when meeting someone new.
"I have never been to Paris though I have wished to see it. I am from the provincial town of Villeneuve, it is rather small. But I find that I miss it more than I expected to." It truly was not as bad as she made it out to be. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
"A few years now, I learned it from a book I read. It suggested that learning to draw the objects I am learning about with make them easier to learn. I am not good, I do not think, but I enjoy it." She smiled sheepishly, brow shrugging. Art was subjective.
"And what of yourself? Have you been drawing long?" She asked curiously, common ground was as good place to start.
“Paris is very beautiful. You’ll definitely have to go one day. I do love the French countryside though. I grew up outside of Lyon, on a small farm.” Paris had him from the start though. As soon as he’d arrived he’d known it was for him.
“My teacher used to tell me that practice makes perfect, so I think the book might be right. He also said the main thing was to enjoy it, but then...he said my laziness was a waste of my talent so maybe his words should be taken with a grain of salt.” He shrugged.
“I have always enjoyed it, and started when I was young. But I studied art and littérature at université. I suppose that is when I started to pursue it more seriously.”
"I hope that I shall get to see Paris then. It sounds like I would love to visit." She knew she'd always be a country girl, no matter if that made her lower class or not. The freedom and space made her happy.
"That is good to know." She laughed softly, "and was he right? Were you lazy? Perhaps you just had not found the right inspiration." She teased gently then finished with a truth. She meant no harm in her words.
"Oh, I do wonder what université, and school in general, is like! I was not allowed to attend. Papa took care of my education then the book seller kept me busy."
“I am sure you would, very much. It may be you will get the chance, too. This place seems to be able to make some amazing things happen.” He would hold out hope that he and Enjolras would be able to have the means to visit Paris at some stage.
“Well,” he began with an abashed laugh. “Perhaps a little, yes. But I still learned enough to get by, I think.” He did not consider himself a master artist by any means, despite what his friend might have said, but he knew he had some talent. “Inspiration was not a problem. Paris was always providing subjects.” Both people and landscapes.
Belle smiled a touch, "that would be something, wouldn't it? One can hope." She did too, hoping that she could really get to see some of the other sights of the world. She hoped that her guardian would be happy to take her.
"Well, that is all of us to a point, is it not?" She replied with a smile, "do you enjoy it when the mood strikes and aligns with inspiration?" She asked with an earnest smile, "if so then it it's enough."
“It would. Now that I am in a new place, in a modern world, I find I want to see more of it.” Words that honestly surprised him. He had always been content with his small world, and his group of friends, and his small space where he lived. Well, content may not have been the right word. He didn’t know if he had ever been truly content. But here, he at least found himself wanting to see more and do more. He considered that to have a lot to do with Enjolras’ influence.
“You may have a point,” he allowed, with a smile of his own. “I have always enjoyed it. I doubt I would have done it for so long if I did not.”
"I have seen precious little. I have read about many places, though." She was never content. She wanted adventure. To see the world. To learn! Everything a woman in her time did not do she wanted.
"Take joy where you can find it, my friend, life is hard. If we do not accept the things that bring us happiness, what is the point?" Her smile was warm, thoughtful.
“There is a vast difference between reading and seeing. Which is one problem I have found with this place, I have learned about so many places I knew nothing about before.” Now he wanted to see them all in person. Not that it was a problem, really. He actually quite liked it.
Her words, whether that was the intent or not, hit him harder than he was expecting. The fact of it was, he knew he did not always. Unfortunately, he also didn’t know why that was, or quite what to do about it. But he did see her point. “That is true. There is little point, without finding some joy in things.” Which may have been part of the problem.
"So I have learned. I truly hope to be able to explore more. I crave adventure, and want to learn everything I can." She was optimistic and cheerful, but kind and gentle too.
"Makes life worth living, it does. It would be so grey and boring if there was no joy to be had." She smiled warmly at him, "I hope you find that here."
“Most would say that is an admirable quality to have. And we are in a time and place where I think it is far easier than it used to be.” The sheer volume of information readily available now as compared to his own time was mind blowing.
“Thank you. That is kind of you to say.” Whether it was possible, he honestly could not say. But he felt he had perhaps more of a chance here than he had before.
“Back home it was not - a young woman reading so much was just plain wrong for the people of my village. I did not let it stop me, of course, but it is a sad thing when reading is frowned upon. I understand that it was not the norm, but the norm is not always right.” she said softly and then smiled.
“Of course - I do not know you very well, but I do not see why you do not deserve that here. This place? Is a world of possibilities we might not have had at home!” she said with conviction. She really, really believed it.
“I can understand that. My sister always wanted an education, but it was not made easy for her.” Still, with supportive parents, for as long as they had been alive, and enough money behind them, she had managed it. He had always been so proud of her. “You must enjoy being here, then. The library is wonderful.”
Those words softened his expression. “You must have a lot of faith in people. You sound like my friend. He speaks that way often as well.” Enjolras would always look for the good in people while Grantaire struggled to have that sort of faith.
“It is not an easy thing, to want an education, in a time when we are meant to be barefoot, pregnant and herding children. Shame, women can do so much more!” she said with a bit of a conviction to it, before nodding. “I do, the library is amazing, so many books to read!”
“I try - at least in those who sound as if they are worth it. There are some who try my patience, but it is what it is.” she said softly, “I think people can do much more than many expect of them.” she smiled softly, “oh?”
He had only just said it, but the vehemence with which she spoke reminded him so much of Enjolras it was uncanny. He wasn’t sure if they had met but he thought if not they probably should. Then again, they’d probably be holding protests in the street before long. “At least here, you can have that education if you want it?”
That made him laugh a bit. “I think it is very normal for there to be at least one person in the world who tries our patience.” He had met his share. But it was not generally individual people who bothered him, it was people more generally, acting as a whole. It was the world and the way it kept pushing until it broke your back, then came back for more.
“He is very fond of his causes,” he explained. There was no denying the fondness in his voice when speaking of Enjolras. “I do not think he will ever be truly content unless all the injustices of the world have been righted.”
Belle probably would, this was true. “I can this is true and lovely. I am learning a lot already, and looking into what classes I can take at the university, I do not think I will fit in well at the high school.” she only smiled a bit.
“I think that is very true.” Belle laughed softly and pushed her hair back, looking up at him. She liked people, if only in abstract. She hadn’t minded the people of her town, though she hadn’t liked them. That was okay, she tried very hard.
“Oh goodness, that will be a very hard goal, there are just so many!” she exclaimed with a look of surprise on her face. She laughed softly, “He must be a very good soul then.” she decided as a breeze caught her lightweight easel and wobbled it.
“I have thought about it myself. I went back home, but there is so much that has changed, I do not know how relevant what I studied is any more.” Though good art never fell out of favour, he felt. “Is there a subject that interests you more than others?” That could be hard to figure out when you were young. Though he had learned in this place, the concept of ‘young’ and ‘grown up’ was very different than it had been back home.
He reached out to steady her easel when the breeze tried to take hold of it. His own was a bit more sturdy, and it made him wonder if this was the first she had owned. He nodded, agreeing. “He is. Though we often disagree I would never deny his heart is in the right place.”
"So much has changed, this is true." She smiled a little, "languages, art, art history, then everything! I love languages and to think I was alive when some big artists were is lovely."
It was. Belle didn't own much. She was planning on upgrading it with her own tinkering skills eventually. "As long as you support your friend even if you disagree and he isn't doing anything to harm anyone, you are a good friend "
"Which is what I studied," he laughed. "There is so much new art. And then there is the entire English language which is a challenge I was not expecting." There were so many funny rules and nuances to learn. It was taking him some time.
"I have not always been, I do not think. We used to argue terribly. But I think we have come a long way since being here, and maybe understand each other better. It is...nice to have him here." He thought he might have felt very lonely without him.
"I am not terribly surprised." She teased gently, "English is a strange language. A mix of too many to be easy and vastly different from the English I learned too."
Belle's smile softened, "it happens. Perhaps you simply did not realize how much you needed him around until you could not leave. I am glad you are enjoying the fact he is here."
"I guess I am not particularly subtle in my habits." Given he had been sitting in the park sketching, and according to Enjolras, had paint on himself or his clothes in some form most of the time.
"That is true in part. I always knew I needed him, but I did not quite know how to go about it," he replied, surprising himself a little with the admission. It wasn't that he didn't know it, but to acknowledge it was something else. "What about you? Do you have anyone from home here?"
"No I'm afraid not." He looked far more well versed in art. With everything looking much sturdier and well loved. She didn't mind, she was just happy to be painting.
"Sometimes what we need is in front of our faces as it takes an extraordinary act for us to see it." She smiled gently then shrugged a tiny bit, "no, no one from home. It's just me."
“If you ever need any help with anything, let me know. I work at the art shop, and there’s a lot to choose from there.” Though with his discount, it was also proving dangerous.
“That is very true.” He realised he’d probably just put his foot in his mouth, asking that. Not everyone had been as fortunate as he and Enjolras. “I’m sorry. This place is hard enough without facing it with no one you know.”
"You are very kind. I would appreciate the help. I hope to learn as much as I can. Art is so lovely." She said softly, she'd seen many beautiful things in books. She hoped to see more.
He had but she was used to it, too. "It is hard but it is okay. My guardian is kind, and people are kind. It could be much worse." She smiled kindly, then a little shyly. "Maybe I should get back, I haven't ventured out on my own much."
“It is.” He had always been drawn to it. The beautiful, uncomplicated things that did not hurt to see. It could be whatever you wanted it to be, which he loved. “Come by the store whenever you’d like, I work there most afternoons. I can show you some things to get you started. Perhaps a stronger easel would suit drawing in the park better.”
He looked at the time when she mentioned going back. It was later than he’d realised. “Of course. It is getting a little late. Would you like some company for the walk back, or will you be alright alone?”
"Perhaps that would be wise. I will certainly stop in. I look forward to your help." She was fond of him already, but that was not unheard of for her. She had soft spots for certain types of people.
She stated to collect her things, "I would not mind but I wouldn't wish for you to skip your work to do so." She gestured towards his easel, "I fear I have taken up much of your time."
“I have selfish intentions, I will admit. I relish any opportunity to discuss art,” he told her with a small smile. None of his friends back home had enjoyed art the way he did. Joly had admired it in his own way, as had Combeferre. But it was not the same as creating it. It was a pleasant surprise to meet someone who viewed it in the same way.
He made a dismissive gesture at that, moving back to collect his own belongings. “Just the beginning scribbles of a few things. Nothing that can not wait. Lead the way,” he offered as he rejoined her.