Belle (enchanted_rose) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2011-05-28 11:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | belle, saetan sadiablo |
Who: Sophie & Benedict
What: A chance meeting
When: Backdated to before the dreams? - Des if you want to change this let me know
Where: Streets of Seattle, Bathos
Warnings: None
Sophie had awoken in the morning to a folded note on her bedside table, written in elegant script that she recognized as familiar to her own. Inside, written in French, it explained that Athena had left already - a lie, she had thought necessary at the time, unsure of what kind of reaction she would have as Sophie - and that she would need to learn some English to enjoy Seattle while Athena was working. Underneath the note was a pocket translation guide, and Sophie thumbed through it for a few moments, before giving up and starting her day.
She showered, dressed, and grabbed her pocketbook, something Athena had set aside the night before, filled with explanations of what everything was. Being a doctor had certainly helped Athena understand the psychology of it, but it was Archie that helped her figure out how to deal with it in the short term. Sophie headed out the door, careful to remember to lock it after her, and went about her way, taking the stairs happily and wandering out on the streets of Seattle. She wasn’t sure how long she had walked for, or where she even was, when she came across an open air market. Pleasantly surprised, and recalling the homeyness of her village, Sophie immediately began wandering through the stalls. It wasn’t until she found the book keeper that she got increasingly excited, immediately pestering the man in French without recalling that she needed to speak English.
Benedict blinked at the woman, his hand curling into a tighter fist around his suitcase. It wasn’t often that he spoke French. He hadn’t set foot in the country for many decades now. And when he was Stateside he only did so during only the occasional business call or video conference, never face to face. It was even less often that he encountered older French. The language had changed over the years, as all languages did, but not so much that it was completely different. It was an odd word choice there, an archaic inflection there, that made him realize that the woman talking to him was speaking an older tongue. One that he thought he would never speak again.
She was talking to him with more than a passing familiarity, and he bristled slightly at the implications from a stranger. But she asked him questions that he wouldn’t know the answer to, that he gave her the benefit of the doubt. “I am sorry,” he said gently, slowly, in the way he used to speak when he lived in France so many years ago. “But you have mistaken me for someone else.”
Sophie paused immediately, hands loosening around the book she had picked up. "I'm sorry, aren't you the book keeper?" she asked, genuinely confused. She looked between him and the book in her hands and laughed to herself. “Please forgive me, I get far too excited about new books,” she explained, putting the book down. She tilted her head to the side, thoughtfully.
He spoke slowly, with the confidence and ease in his wording and inflections that made her smile and feel far more welcome than she had originally. “You also speak my French,” she observed, taking it as her own because she had no other way of describing it. It wasn’t old to her, or ancient or archaic. Merely hers. “There are some here who speak similarly, but they must be from the city,” she mused, not bothering to censor herself around the man. “My name is Sophie, what’s yours?”
He contemplated giving his old name, the language and the memories associated with it more suited for the identity he had had all those years ago. But he wasn’t that man anymore and when she offered her name, he took her hand and gave her a greeting that befitted the time than the language. “Benedict,” he said, giving her a firm handshake.
“Where are you from?” She talked of the city as if it was somewhere far and foreign, never having been there or known people from it. He wondered what the city around them looked like to her. The buildings, the people, the cars. When she said city, he doubted she thought of this.
Sophie smiled warmly at him, shaking his hand as was expected. It was somewhat different for her, given that she was more used to waves and smiles as opposed to actual handshakes seeing as they were typically quite dirty after working in the fields. “I’m from Surcy, not to far inland from the northern coast,” she explained willingly. “Our small town had its own quirks in the language, but we sometimes had visitors from Paris or Versailles. We were destroyed by the Crusades, and I ended up in Bionval for centuries. I was quite surprised to find myself in a place like this,” she added, not realizing in the slightest that anything she might have said was wrong. “Do you know my roommate? Athena Henderson?” Perhaps he would know where she worked, and then she could drop by to say hello.
He knew Surcy, way back when, and when she talked it was like he was transported back to that time period. For worse rather than better the memories came back to him and he caught his jaw clenching as he began to call it all. Worried that he would break her hand in his grasp he let hers go, letting his fall stiffly at his sides. It was strange, hearing her be very confident about that time, as if the history she spoke of happened a few decades ago, not centuries, and still be unperturbed about the city around them. He shook his head at the mention of the name, though he trailed off. “Only... only in passing, I believe. I think I have heard of an A. Henderson though I have not the pleasure of meeting her.” Perhaps this Miss Henderson would be helpful in trying to understand this woman. Then again, perhaps this woman couldn’t find this Miss Henderson, if she was mistaking him, of all people, for a book seller.
“May I escort you home, Sophie? I am quite sure your roommate is worried about you wandering so.”
Sophie’s face fell when he admitted to not knowing Athena. She consoled herself, though, with the idea of making dinner for the two of them, much in the same way she had for her and her father years before. The frown stayed, despite the consolation, and she stepped away from the book cart. “She’s at work, she said. Left me a note and a bag for me,” she explained, gesturing to her purse. She paused for a moment, then managed a small smile.
“I would appreciate that, Benedict. I’m afraid I don’t remember how to get home. I live in...” She pulled open her purse and fished around for the slip of paper she had grabbed earlier that morning. “Here, Bathos 801. That’s where I live,” Sophie informed him warmly.
“How very nice of her,” he said smoothly. At least this Athena was a thoughtful woman, though Benedict was still of the mind that Sophie shouldn’t be wandering unescorted like so. He waited patiently as she tried to tell him where she lived and his eyebrows shot up in understanding. “Bathos. Yes I am familiar with that building.” Sol, though he was often at Benedict’s own home, lived at Bathos. “Come. I shall return you home. My driver is just around the corner.” He gestured toward the corner in question and after a moment, he offered her his arm. The movement was so simple, without a thought, much like breathing, and inwardly he grimaced, carefully hiding it behind a pleasant and polite smile, and thought of how hard habits died.
Sophie smiled pleasantly, glad to have run into Benedict. She had walked through the streets, losing herself in the people and the buildings, so it was good fortune to have run across the man given how willing he was to escort her home. It saved her the trouble of having to muddle through English. “Driver?” she echoed, confused by the term. She took his arm though, gently and amicably, as if they were great friends, or had been at one time. “Do you mean for those machines that make loud noises?” she asked, having encountered a few of them earlier in the day.
He blinked softly as she stared at her, for a moment jarringly brought back to the present. For a woman who seemed to be from another time, she was taking to modern century quiet well. Inquisitive but unafraid. It was admirable and, admittedly, convenient. Dealing with a woman in hysterics would be a different matter altogether. “Yes. They are cars. Not unlike carriage, but without the horse. And the smell.” As they turned the corner he could see Kristopher fold up his paper and stand at attention. He eyed the woman with confusion but said no more. He had questions, rightfully so, but he wasn’t one to ask them in public. “How long have you been here in the city?”
Sophie had always been inquisitive and unafraid, which had served her well in dealing with Adam during the first few decades. The new environment was different from anything else she had ever encountered before, and there were certainly some dangers, but she was still far too curious about the city around her. “That makes sense. Though, I much prefer horses,” she replied as she followed along, turning the corner with him. She smiled to the man as they approached him. “I’m not sure. A few weeks at least,” Sophie replied, unsure at first but smiling by the end of it. The fact that she didn’t remember didn’t bother her, nor did she find it unusual for a stranger to offer to take her home. “Have you lived here long?”
He nodded, both to Kristopher and to her question, though he helped her into his town car first before sliding into the seat beside her. “A while. My daughter and I moved here some years ago.” He waited until the driver was in the car and simply directed them to be taken to Bathos, and was answered with a nod and the start of the drive. “How did you meet this roommate of yours?”
Sophie was momentarily awed by the car, peering about both inside the cabin and out the window. “This is amazing, truly amazing,” she muttered, more to herself than anything. She turned her attention back to Benedict, shifting her body so that she was facing him more appropriately. “I was in my apartment, our apartment, and was using the computer. It was pointed out to me that I was using someone else’s account, and it turned out I was using Athena’s! That’s how I remembered I had a roommate.” She was all smiles, not at all concerned about how odd that might have sounded.
“How old is your daughter? Seattle is a lovely place, but, if I may, why did you move from France? It is such a beautiful country, particularly the villages.”
“Nineteen,” he said easily, his smile bright. Such was his expression when he talked of his daughter. Which made the change, the immediate darkening of his face, the way his brows furrowed unhappily and thoughtfully, so profound. “I have rather... bad memories of France, unfortunately.” He was quiet for a few longer moments, not trying to find a way to elaborate, but rather trying to find a way to relax enough to speak once more. As they turned the corner, her changed the topic back to her. “So you have not seen this Athena today?”
“So young! Tell me, is she also very old?” A curious question, but it made sense enough to Sophie given her own experiences. “I am sorry to hear that your memories of France were not pleasant. I myself do not remember much past 1789. I just...woke up here,” she explained with a shrug. It had bothered her at first, but she just accepted it given that she had no other choice. One of Athena’s first notes had explained the time difference, after her forum conversation with Reina.
“I have not,” Sophie confessed. “We seem to continually miss each other. It is quite trying sometimes, but I still have hope that she will return early from work. She often goes in early and returns very late,” she explained. “But it is okay. She’s a doctor, so it’s to be expected.”
“Only in spirit,” he said easily. His daughter was young, and often he thought of her younger still, but that didn’t take away from the fact that she had seen much in her short years, and was wiser than most people thought her. She was an old soul, if he ever saw one.
He couldn’t imagine just waking up and knowing over 200 years had passed. He didn’t want to remember his time in France but talking to her was bringing forth the memories quite easily. To go from that time, to this, would have been jarring. He was certainly capable of maintaining a sense of propriety, even under the most extreme circumstances. It was fascinating to see someone else who seemed to be able to as well.
A doctor named Athena. He would have to check the forums when he was free to make sure this woman was as friendly and kind of a roommate as Sophie made her out to be. “Hopefully,” he agreed with a quiet murmur, turning his eyes from her face to the window, watching Bathos come into view. “It is not proper to be living together and never seeing one another. Perhaps she can carve out some time in her busy schedule to accommodate you. Help you… settle in.”
“Oh, I would not want to inconvenience her. She’s saving lives and making a difference. Besides, I am used to doing things for myself. I will adapt and persevere, as I always have. I do not know how or why things have happened the way they have, but I can’t get back those years I missed. The best I can do is move forward. Athena takes care of me well enough. There’s always food in the apartment, and everything is clean and orderly. It works for us,” she explained with a warm smile. The last thing she wanted to do was inconvenience Athena in any way.
She saw the building outside the window and recognized it with a smile. “It was a pleasure to meet you Benedict, and thank you very much for the transportation home,” Sophie added, as the car came to a stop. She offered him a warm smile but held out her hand to shake his. She wasn’t entirely sure he’d be receptive to the traditional kisses on each cheek.
Benedict didn’t see it as an inconvenience, though he wasn’t about to argue with the woman until he understood her situation a bit more. There were more than a few things missing in this puzzle, and he knew better than to pass judgment until he had all of them. When she held out her hand for a shake, he took it, his other hand coming to cover it on the other side. “You are very much welcome, Sophie. Take care,” he said sincerely, watching as Kristopher opened up her door and helped her out of the car. Only when she was gone did his smile fade into a thoughtful frown. What had just happened?