Who: Eleanor & Richard What: Eleanor's taking a break to have lunch with her son When: Wednesday afternoon Where: Restaurant near Eleanor's office Notes: Reposted as a favour, originally posted by Eleanor and Richard
Eleanor had been working non-stop for the past week and a half, her work load doubling on Monday with the added preparations for going to court. John had been helping her with the legal side of things, but she liked to oversee things personally. Some things would never change.
She was in the middle of reading the latest batch of papers her old boss's lawyer had sent over, when Jacob poked his head in. "Ms. Durand? Is it alright if I take my lunch now?"
"Hmm?" she asked, looking up. "Oh, certainly, Jacob. Go right ahead. Which reminds me, I haven't eaten myself, so lunch sounds delightful. Take the full hour, you've certainly earned it."
Jacob smiled. "Thanks, Ms. Durand. Enjoy your own lunch."
Eleanor leaned back in her chair. She did want to go to lunch, but she didn't want to eat alone. And she'd been seeing a lot of John recently, so she picked up the phone and called Richard.
"I'll even say 'please', if you like," she said, half-jokingly. "I really need to leave the office, if only for a little while."
They agreed on a place to meet, and Eleanor set off on foot, arriving within 10 minutes and getting a booth, sinking into it gratefully. It felt good to leave the building, after so long cooped up inside.
Richard didn't even feel all that bad knowing John and Eleanor were spending time together. In his opinion, his mother was kept busy, and thus out of his own personal affairs. He knew Eleanor when she had an idea. She was like a train that wouldn't stop.
But he'd agreed to the lunch, knowing she'd hunt him down otherwise and after a while he arrived at the restaurant. With a smile he walked to her, taking her hand and kissing it. "Mother." He bowed his head, because he couldn't kneel anymore, before taking the seat opposite her. "How are you?" Out of instinct he'd switched into the dialect from her lands that she'd taught him when he was a little boy. It gave their conversation more privacy.
She smiled at Richard, inclining her head slightly as well. "Thank you for coming out," she replied in the same language. "English was starting to look like gibberish. I knew I had to get out, even just for a bit."
"Apart from trying to rebuild the firm basically from the ground up, and being personally sued along with the firm and the directors, I'm fine," she replied, settling back into her seat and gesturing for the waiter. "And you? What have you been doing lately?"
"It is Gibberish," he'd never liked English. He'd only learned it because he was forced to. To this day he pretended not to understand it when something didn't appeal to him.
"Very little I'm afraid," like his father he had a lot of wanderlust in him. Being forced to sit still. Being forced to keep away from the fighting grated on his nerves.
She shrugged, conceding the point. "Fair enough, even more like gibberish than usual. Believe me, I'd speak Poitevin all the time if I could, unfortunately, very few people understand it anymore. Hmph."
"It's better than going through a court case, I suppose," she sighed. She knew how much it bothered him, but there was very little she could do about it, being unable to leave the country for long herself. "How's your young man? Aaron, wasn't it?"
He chuckled to that, "it's to my benefit. It keeps certain things private and no one is nosing into our conversation. I use it for work on occasion. Keeps more things air tight."
He smiled to the mention of Aaron, "he's well, thank you. He's going with me to George's party."
She smiled. "Very true. Also very handy for cursing under one's breath and no one having any idea what you're saying. I've used it a fair few times myself."
"Good," she said, then tilted her head. "George is having a party? How lovely, what's the occasion?"
He'd imagined his mother had heard of this. "He's renewing his vows. I thought you'd heard about that. Not sure of the when, exactly, only that I know I have to make a speech." He grinned to the thought. George had always been closer to him then Henry had ever been.
She ducked her head a little. "I feel like I ought to be giving everyone apologies. No, I hadn't. I'd love to go and wish them well, if they'd allow me to. George has certainly been bound up with our family for a long time."
She laughed. "Now that's a speech I'd love to hear." The waiter appeared again and she ordered lunch, waiting until he was out of earshot to switch back to Poitevin. "I must admit, it feels nice to just...stop for a while."
He'd ordered his own lunch before giving her a look, "alright what have you done with my mother? For as long as I've known you, you've never stopped. Maybe paused for all of a moment to give my father a small army of children, but stop? Never."
He gave her a concerned look before setting his hand on hers, "I'm sure he'll forgive you. Ask him, I'm sure he won't mind seeing you. But if you bring John and he acts like the ass he's being, I will put him on the ground."
She laughed, a tired sound. "After 800 years, I think I'm entitled to stop. And it's only for an hour. I have to eat, and I didn't bring any work with me. I think that's as close to stopping as I get." She grimaced slightly at the mention of his father. "Perhaps it makes me a bad person, but I honestly hope I never see that man again. I'd have a few choice words about locking me up for 16 years."
She squeezed his hand. "I hope so. And I think I will, it'll be nice to congratulate them in person." She merely looked at him. "If he acts like an ass at a vow renewal, I will help you put him on the ground, dress and heels or no. Never fear in that regard."
He watched her before deciding she knew her own limits better then he did. "Alright. I can't judge. Lord knows I'd be in the thick of the battle if I could be." He smirked, "you'd have to get in line I think. I owe him for a few things myself."
"It's John. He took after Father a bit too much. Don't bring him."
"I know you would be," she replied. "And I'd be back in Aquitaine, living in a place I love, instead of a country that barely seems to remember us." She sighed again. "I think what they'd call me these days is a 'workaholic', but Father taught me that if you want something right, you should do it yourself." She shrugged. "I am who I am, I suppose."
She smirked as well. "I'm fairly certain a large number of people would be jostling for the first position."
"He did," she agreed. "And that would probably be for the best, I think. Better to not tempt fate."
He nodded to that, "Even England remembers me still. Odd and a little ironic, but there you have it." He smiled at her, "I'm glad you keep busy. I don't see you as the type to just linger and do nothing."
He scoffed, "no doubt." He nodded, "I try and keep in mind his upbringing, but mostly I just want to wring his neck. He cost us Normandy. I'll never forgive him for that."
She had to smile. "Considering you never spent much time there, yes, a little ironic." She tilted her head and grinned a little wider. "Have you ever known me to be idle for long?"
She sighed. "Sometimes I wonder what happened with him. I do love him, but sometimes he just frustrates me. Losing Normandy was one of those things. Although if you wring his neck I will have to make cross faces at you for quite a long time."
He smirked to her, "like you ever did? Or Henry? You taught me to love Aquitaine and Henry gave me the wanderlust. Yet I'm the one remembered for not spending time there." Laughing he shook his head, "no. I'm just glad you get to do more now. You were always ahead of your time."
"Yes Mother," he was smiling though, "and Henry happened that's what. John was his favorite, taught him everything he knew. So John took after Henry." He frowned, "there's often times I wish the Young King had kept on living. He was the one fit for the throne."