morebooks (morebooks) wrote in shadowlands_ic, @ 2018-01-12 23:24:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | adrien green, eleri lloyd |
Who: Adrien Green, Eleri Lloyd
What: Strategy, and a frank conversation
Where: A small coffeeshop
When: 27 December 1888 [Backdated]
Rating: PG
Adrien wasn’t quite sure how to approach his assistant.
Eleri had continued to do her work with not so much as a nod and a wink as to their activities together a few months past, but the notion that she’d tapped into some powerful magic to help him with Merrick -- without even knowing what he was planning to do, only that he’d needed help -- had been humbling, and more than a little overwhelming.
He didn’t know quite what he’d done to earn such trust, couldn’t fathom what was going through the young Fae’s head, and now…
Now he was asking her yet again for her help.
He sat, a little nervously, waiting for her to arrive to the coffeeshop at the appointed time. He’d asked her to meet him there before work at the end of the previous week, and while she’d practically vibrated with curiosity, she’d nodded and left well enough alone.
The first time Eleri had helped Adrien, she’d done so unbidden. She wasn’t a fool, and she had a fairly good working knowledge of his temperament. If she had offered, he would have turned her down flat. So she hadn’t said a word, preferring to let her actions speak much louder than her flawed language skills.
And even though that time had ended… sub-optimally, she had apparently accomplished what she set out to do. The Merlin scrolls had contained powerful protective magic, and in casting them she had perhaps been the reason Adrien’s mission had gone successfully. Perhaps, because she didn’t want to be so arrogant as to assume she was the only reason. Presumably, there had been a fair amount of planning and care taken in making his plans, and Adrien was not a stupid man after all.
Now, he was actually asking for her help. Asking! And yes, she had vibrated, though it was more with excitement than curiosity, especially as the appointed time grew nearer. She had been useful, useful enough that he was coming to her of his own accord! Her Adrien valued her! As she made her way to the coffeeshop, she found herself flitting more than walking, her natural lightness and the added excitement giving her gait a buoyancy that was only one step removed from unfurling her wings from their hiding place and actually flying.
“It’s me,” she announced as she entered the coffeeshop, found him and sat herself down. “I come. I bring tarts!” The night before on the way home from work, she’d found a woman selling apple tarts, and the sweetness had thrilled her. She’d picked up a couple for them to snack on at the office. However, she knew better than to bring out her own food in a place that sold it. “Tarts for office,” she clarified. “Not here.”
Adrien stood as she entered, and had been about to remark on the appropriateness of bringing pastries to a coffeeshop, but her follow-up made him nod his head, frowning a little as he wondered how he might word what he wanted her help with in a way she’d be best likely to understand.
Eleri was many things -- achingly young, eager, impulsive, easily frustrated, and sharp as a knife, but there were times that her difficulties with English could make it a challenge to communicate complex notions.
He sat once more, looking over at his co-worker.
“Miss Lloyd,” he said, with a brief bow of his head, “thank you for meeting with me. I asked you to come here to discuss a very important matter. I believe the Institute kept more prisoners,” he said, carefully. “That Merrick was not the only one. I should like your help to find out.”
“Merrick is… genie man?” she asked carefully. “Institute… work?” She furrowed her brow heavily. This was nuts.
“Adrien,” she began carefully. “I try something? On you?” She’d had the little pouch in her bag for a few weeks now, waiting for an excuse to use it, but she wouldn’t ever do it without his permission, and there hadn’t really been a good enough reason - as frustrating as things could get, they made do, the way they always had. But they were seconds into this meeting and she could already feel herself losing the thread of the conversation.
“My English bad,” she said by way of explanation. “I try something?”
He paused and raised an eyebrow.
“It is what it is,” he said, shrugging, “what should you want to try?”
Pulling the pouch from her bag, she signaled a waiter for a glass of water. When it came, she
dumped the contents of the pouch in the water and stirred it with a spoon.
“You drink,” she urged him. “Please?”
There was a rather significant pause as he looked over at her, before his frown deepened for a moment and he reached for the glass.
He could count on one hand the number of people currently living he’d have taken such a directive from, but she was one of them -- he owed her for the gift he’d been given, and the least he could do was extend her the courtesy of trust.
The drink was strongly grassy and bitter, and he coughed a little.
“...And what was that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
Eleri actually clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, good lord. You’ve no idea how good it is to be able to be understood, finally,” she said sincerely. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner. How long have we worked together? And yet, it seemed almost like cheating. But then there’s cheating, and there’s helping, isn’t there?”
She wrinkled her nose at him prettily.
Adrien gawped a little at the string of words flowing freely from her -- it was perhaps the longest speech she’d ever spoken to him (beyond her frustrated, broken, angry rant she’d given him upon fearing she was to be fired, when he was merely collecting notes on Wilhelm).
“I…” he cleared his throat a little. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand,” he said, looking over at her. “How, exactly, did my drinking your potion make it easier for you to speak English?”
Now she had to laugh. “Adrien… we’re speaking Welsh.”
Because as many potions and mixes as she knew and had studied, she never could find one to fix her English. This was the next best thing, helping Adrien to relate to her on her level.
“You drink the herbs, and you’re speaking my language,” she explained. “And I can finally switch to a language where I sound more intelligent than some sort of bird that has learned to squawk a few words. You’ve been so patient with me, so thank you for that. But… it only lasts an hour or so, I think. I’m actually not all that powerful. So this is good for a conversation, but you have to keep drinking it if you want to keep relating to me on this level.”
As was his wont, Adrien faced a brief moment of worry -- what if the herbs persisted beyond the time they were expected to start their work? Would he be able to read in English? What if (heaven forbid) the change was a permanent one?
She looked hopeful, and beyond pleased, though, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull the smile from her face.
Besides, if it didn’t last long, he’d accomplish little if he spent what time they had bellyaching.
He cleared his throat again and shook his head. “You shall have to time me, then,” he said, “so that we might have a notion as to how long it might last for future.”
“That’s fair,” she said. “So I suppose I should start by talking about last time, and what happened there. Honestly, I had no idea, really, what the Merlin scrolls would do. My Welsh is fine, but my Ancient Welsh wasn’t… great. I had the vaguest of ideas that they were protection spells, so when you went out, all secretive, I read from the scrolls. As we both saw, the magic was far more than my body is capable of containing. I was so sick, and my head was so sore after that day. But it was worth it, in my estimation, if what I did was the slightest help to you.”
She paused, looking at him carefully. “You might not know this, but you’re important to me, Adrien. You’ve been nice to me, when so many people hear me trying to speak English and write me off as a simpleton. But I’m not simple! I’m smart! I do my work quickly, and well. I’m pleasant to have around the place, or at least I try to be. And I’m loyal. When you talk to me like you think you’re a grumpy old man… I see something else. I see a gruff but kind man.”
She reached for the pastry she had ordered.
“So I helped. And apparently, it worked, despite how sick it made me. And I know I didn’t ask, but the reality is, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. So. What did you want to talk to me about?”
“It was a risk,” Adrien replied, a little more sharply than he’d intended, “seeing you there, on the floor, I…” he frowned. “I suppose if you had asked, I would’ve told you to not do it, and then…” he sighed. “And then where would we be? I certainly couldn’t say if I would’ve been successful or not. Regardless… thank God there was no lasting harm done. I should never be able to live with myself if there had been.”
He paused. “And I… I am in your debt,” he added, quietly. “I can’t say I’m deserving of a jot of it, but as you seem to think otherwise, there we are. And I would never think you simple,” he said, his frown deepening. “I very much hope I have not given that impression.”
It was a revelation to have an honest to god conversation with his co-worker, after so many months of painfully slow and often mutually frustrating attempts to communicate, and while he hadn’t lied -- he’d never thought her simple (naive, yes, unschooled in the ways of the human world, often, unbearably cheerful, certainly, but never simple), this conversation was shedding light on her in a way he hadn’t been able to previously see.
“I know you don’t think I’m simple. That’s my point though - I would understand if you did, because my English is terrible. There’s a reason for that though. Most Fae like me, can speak most languages and only work with one element. Me, on the other hand, I can work with all five major elements, but my aptitude in that area has meant a deficit in the language department.” It had taken her a while to work that out, but she saw it for what it was now.
“But if I wasn’t the way I was, I couldn’t do the job I do. I’m balancing, all the time. Too damp, I send the water away, but too dry and I call it back. I talk to the earth and it tells me what it needs. I speak to speak to fire and it does my bidding - in a manner of speaking,” she finished with a giggle. “I’m making it sound more mystical than it is. It’s a push, and a pull. But the fact is, I can do it with all five elements, and most Fae only get one.”
She waved off his assertion that he was in her debt. “You probably don’t have a very good sense of me as a person because of the language barrier, but I can tell you, I’m no favor-accountant. I’ve no interest in keeping score. I saw a need, and I knew I could help, and I felt you worth the effort. That’s as simple as it is for me. I neither need nor want repayment. So if there’s something else I can help with, please, tell me. If it’s at all within my capabilities, I’ll do it.”
Adrien nodded, frowning in thought.
“Merrick, the djinn, was held by the Institute for fifty years,” he said, trying to cut to the heart of it. “He was medically experimented upon in addition to being used for wishes, and he was held in a cell that had an iron door, and silver in the glass. The cell had been built in advance of his capture, and I believe…” his frown deepened. “I believe he was not the only creature who was held there, and given the nature of the door, it makes me wonder whether one of your people might have been an occupant at one time or another.”
“So… you want me to find out?” Eleri asked cautiously. Even though the language barrier had been removed, she still couldn’t read minds, and she was doing her best to follow his train of thought but she felt as if she’d missed a few stops. She frowned slightly. “The iron door… that might hurt me,” she said doubtfully. “If they had one of us in there, that door was designed to be fairly punitive, I’d guess.”
Adrien shrugged a little. “I’m not entirely certain whether it would be possible for you to tell,” he said, “whether there’d be a trace, a sense of some kind…” he looked over at her. “I wouldn’t expect you to touch the iron, but going there in person…” he frowned. “I’m trying my best to trace what might’ve happened through paperwork, but it’s... it’s all buried. Your impressions might give some insight as to whether I’m on the right track at all.”
His frown deepened. “I wouldn’t… it’s a risk,” he added, quietly, “and I wouldn’t want you hurting yourself over it. It’s… I can sort out another way.”
“I could wear gloves,” she suggested. “You have to stop treating me like I’m fragile, Adrien. I didn’t break last time, and I won’t break this time. I want to help you. Don’t you understand that?”
Already she was thinking of ways to help. Her (admittedly limited) repertoire of spells didn’t take long to mentally search, but she had an idea. “I do know a spell, but I’ve never tried it before. I couldn’t vouch for the results.”
“What sort of spell?” He asked, even though his first (rather powerful) impulse was to nix the idea entirely -- the last spell she’d attempted without trying had been a dangerous one, but she’d told him to stop treating her so carefully.
“If I understand the spell correctly, it would allow you to use me as a conduit,” Eleri replied. “Essentially, I would be a link to the past. As I said, I’m not exactly sure how it would work.”
She did, however, have a rough idea of what would happen. Given his reticence when asking her for help, though, she opted not to tell him.
“Please?” she implored. “I don’t know how to express myself any clearer. I trust you, and if you say this is important then I believe it to be so - and I like you, so I want to help. It really is that simple. Plus, I know I can help. I think you just need to unwrap the cotton wool you seem to have me mentally swathed in. I am little, but I am mighty.” She mockingly flexed her biceps for him, giving him a hopeful grin.
“My hesitance isn’t because I think you to be weak,” Adrien replied quietly, not quite meeting her cheerful gaze. “You must know that.”
But he’d been the one to ask her for help -- and she was offering far more help than he’d thought possible. If it worked… it’d save him months of digging, give him a direction rather than his current aimless digging through the records, looking for the slightest hint of something they would’ve worked hard to keep hidden.
He cleared his throat. “I do believe it to be important, yes, and…” he frowned. “I shall… I shall have to trust you’ll judge whether it’s something you can do within reason.”
“I think I can do it,” she said resolutely. “But I’ll need a few things. I suppose… if I’m going to do this for you, you’ll be able to supply them?”
Some of them were genuinely items she needed for the spell, and others were things that would sustain her while she performed the spell, but if she was honest, she was playing with him just a little bit now, teasing him a little.
“Would that be alright?”
He brought out his pencil and paper by way of reply, and then frowned. “I don’t suppose my writing will be in Welsh too?” He asked, and then shook his head and re-pocketed them. “What’d you need, then?” He asked, looking over at her soberly.
“Berries,” Eleri said decisively. “Strawberries, raspberries, blackberries… at least a pound of each, and more would be better. Ice, and sugar, and a big jug of water.” There, that would do for a nourishing and sustaining drink for the duration of the spell… but he didn’t need to know that. “Rosemary, mint, wolfsbane…” She paused, thinking, then rattled off several more herbs that really would be necessary for the casting of the spell.
“And I’ll need a mattress of some sort - the last time I cast a spell for you I ended up crash landing on the floor, and I was bruised for days. I’ll need a place to land,” she finished up.
Adrien very nearly balked at the logistics of smuggling all that and Eleri to the basement of the Institute, but he bit his tongue -- Merrick might be able to help with some of the odds and ends, and while he didn’t care to ask the djinn for favors, this was in service of a larger justice that would presumably be something Merrick would be in favor of too.
He nodded. “A month from today?” He asked, looking over at her carefully.
Eleri’s face fell. “Month,” she said glumly in English. The drink was wearing off, and his sentence had been a mix of Welsh and English. Unless he opted to drink more, they were back to square one - but at least he knew now how articulate she could be when language wasn’t an issue. Then she thought about what she’d asked for, and attempted to clarify something.
“Not need big…” she gestured helplessly, “thing for fall. Small will work. Small… cushion!” The word popped into her head and she beamed at it. “Because I am small. Some cushions?” She huffed out a breath. “You want more drink?” she asked hopefully.
“Later,” Adrien replied, noting the time. “We must go to work.” He wrote her request for the materials (including the cushions) using a brief scribbled note in his notepad and closed it definitively. “I enjoyed our conversation, Miss Lloyd, and should like to continue it at another time,” he added, his voice slow and careful. “I should learn more Welsh, as well, so as to not depend on a potion,” he continued, more to himself than for her benefit.
“You are…” he paused. “You are a generous soul, and I am glad to know you, Miss Lloyd.”