un: someday, life will be fairer (open)

[untamedantinous]

The library is currently occupied. To be more precise, it is occupied by one young blond man, settled in at a large table with books spread out around him. Off to the side, there is a glass of wine, half-drunk. He looks much better than he had upon his arrival, no longer dirty and bloodstained, but still a bit fragile. Some of the marble that usually adorns his countenance has been chipped away, and he is not certain if it will come back.

He is not certain of many things, here in this strange new not-afterlife, but he is certain that both the writings of Rousseau and Voltaire exist. He has the proof, right here next to him, old friends that he is relieved to have in hand. (Someday he'll find his own copies of them, maybe.) The young fellow that had healed him -- Magnus, wasn't it -- had mentioned France becoming a republic. So in lieu of talking to people, Enjolras has chosen to dive into history books and catch himself up on the last 200 or so years.

(He'd rather read than face what lies before him here. He's not sure what to do, and he doesn't like being purposeless. There is yet time to talk, time to find Grantaire, eventually, but he doesn't want to think. Not right now.)

Comments

[untamedantinous]

There are many different thoughts racing around his head at lightning speed, despite Claudius’ words of reassurance. Firstly: he only said ‘assume’, that does not mean it is true. Secondly: he doesn’t even know what he feels for Grantaire. Is it ‘more than friendship’, whatever that may be? Thirdly, and a corollary to the second: what is more than friendship? Is this how the others feel all the time? It’s certainly confounding, to say the very least, and it’s no wonder Marius acts as foolishly as he seems to half the time; if this is how his brain is. He feels like a fool, and the color is high on his cheeks from a little embarrassment.

“I am sorry,” he tries, finally, and goes to pour himself a small bit of wine. “It is…only a lot to consider, I suppose, and I am not accustomed to it.”

[wickedwit]

Claudius likely shouldn't meddle further with this subject ... but he can't unmeddle out of it very easily, either. Smoothing past the subject feels almost irresponsible, like putting a danger thought into someone's ear and then leaving. "Not accustomed to romantic matters?" he asks. "Those can be overwhelming enough on their own, whether or not you're accustomed."

[untamedantinous]

Enjolras nods, and abruptly feels very small. He might look it, too, wide-eyed and still a little shaken, suddenly much younger looking than his twenty two years. “I did not—“ he attempts, and it comes out very soft; he clears his throat and tries again.

“I have only ever been concerned with the love of my country and her people.” He shifts a little, feeling uncomfortably laid bare. He doesn’t much enjoy feeling helpless and yet here he is, for the second or third time in only a week, raw-edged and uncomfortable.

[wickedwit]

"You'll think this is a fanciful turn of phrase, the sort Grantaire might make about you," Claudius says, already rolling his eyes at himself, "but ... it sounds like you've been living the life of a holy knight, focused on a singular quest to restore liberty to your country. It doesn't leave a lot of time for romantic matters." Some people have sworn oaths specifically not to be involved in romantic matters, for example.

[untamedantinous]

Ugh.. Enjolras joins in on that eyeroll and hunches his shoulders up, on the defensive, now. He’s feeling a little more sure of himself now that he has some nonsense to respond to.

“Of course it doesn’t,” he replies, blunt as anything. “But I certainly wouldn’t presume to call myself either holy or a noble knight.” The very idea itself is distasteful, clearly. “I just never saw the point of it, is all it is; nothing so high-minded as your crusade you’d have me on.”

[wickedwit]

Claudius laughs, with a wry toast of his glass. Having Enjolras on surer footing seems worth the fanciful comparisons. "You know your mind -- that's clear enough. So what is your mind on Grantaire?" he asks as delicately as he can.

[untamedantinous]

He arranges his shoulders at that, a bit like a cat who is grooming themselves back to their natural state after some unwanted touch. Still uncertain ground, it’s true, but at least he has a raft to stand on now instead of drowning.

“I don’t know,” Enjolras replies, and it rings as true as anything he’s ever said on the barricades. He really doesn’t, he can’t —or chooses not to —comprehend what passed at the barricades just yet, excepting that it was not at all what he had expected from Grantaire. “He has surprised me in more ways than one.”

[wickedwit]

"I imagine so." More ways than the potential crush which Claudius could claim was a mistake on his part -- but that's not the picture he's getting. Grantaire came into the mansion covered in his own blood and the blood of his fellows after dying in a revolution he spoke very cynically about. Something or someone must have inspired him to put his life down for it, and Claudius assumed it was his esteem for his friends¹. "Which is the most surprising?"

¹ On reflection, Claudius's half-acknowledged plan to throw himself at a young man who doesn't care about causes had a flaw. 'Dying to be with someone you deeply care about' sounds suspiciously like a cause.

[untamedantinous]

"Mm." He looks down at his wine glass, swirling it a little for lack of anything better to do, certainly not because he's trying to avoid the question. "That he believes in something." It is, once again, not entirely a lie. But telling Claudius the truth feels almost -- unjust, when he hasn't even broached the subject with the man in question. He has never been one to lay all his secrets bare¹ within hours of meeting someone.

¹ Or other things, that are more generally bare. You know what we're getting at here.

[wickedwit]

"Well, then," Claudius says smoothly, "if he's surprised you this many times, this seems like an excellent opportunity to get to know the man."

[untamedantinous]

He purses his lips a bit. "I have tried." He has, at home. He is hesitant to do the same here; but he is hesitant about many things concerning Grantaire at this point in time.

[wickedwit]

Claudius laughs. "I've no doubt it was a tiresome effort. Some people will deliberately bewilder you, and Grantaire doesn't seem the sort to speak plainly or directly -- not if he's been calling you sun-god for however many years." He shakes his head, gesturing with his wine. "But as I said, I can be too quick with my words, and too quick to take the measure of people. You only need listen to my judgments if they're of use to you."<sup>1

1</sup> Claudius has a lot of judgments about Grantaire that are not immediately useful to Enjolras. He skipped too much of Grantaire's dialogue tree.

[untamedantinous]

"Four or five, I think? Something like that." It's not really an answer, but then again there wasn't really a question, either, and he takes a sip of his own wine. "You are quick," he notes, quiet. "Grantaire scarcely arrived two days before me."

[wickedwit]

"To be honest ..." Wait. There is no benefit to being honest here. Claudius can't believe he almost let himself forget that simple and obvious fact. "It's been a bit of a whirlwind two days. But yes, I believe we hit it off very quickly."

[untamedantinous]

"I do not have that happy talent." Sure, people are drawn to him half the time, but it's not because he's friendly about it. He's grateful for the change of subject, now, this is already so much to deal with that it may well overload everything else that he's been shoving to the back of his head all week.

"But he is -- friendly enough, I suppose."

[wickedwit]

Friendly and obliging,, Claudius thinks but stops himself from saying. "We drank bourbon and played billiards," he says instead. "Two easy things to make friends over. I believe that's why the drink and the sport were invented."

[untamedantinous]

"More than likely," Enjolras agrees, then hesitates. "I know he is also fond of dominoes," he adds, carefully, and there's a slight lipcurl of disdain that we all knew was coming sooner or later. "Among his other, more irritating hobbies."

[wickedwit]

Claudius notices it and considers it a good sign -- Enjrolas seems to enjoy complaining about Grantaire. He laughs. "So you do know some things about him: the things he irritates you with. What hobbies are these?"

[untamedantinous]

"Drinking," promptly. "Or, I should say, drinking to excess. He is easily distracted, one might ask him to do something, and get promises, and then find it is not done and it is too late to be fixed --" He shakes his head with a sigh. "It is damnably annoying."

[wickedwit]

“I suppose that’s why he surprised you. A man who cannot be relied on, proving himself reliable at the last moment.” It’s touching a little close on a still-raw subject, Claudius admits, but he just thought up and dismissed several other rejoinders about Grantaire’s distractibility and the sort of tasks he can be put to.

[untamedantinous]

"I, ah. Yes." That's saying the least anyone could say about the whole issue, and he shifts a little, uncomfortable again. "It was....unexpected." Not just proving himself reliable, proving himself willing to die for the republic, perhaps for Enjolras himself. But that remains on Enjolras' list of subjects that he is not willing to touch with a ten foot pole at this moment in time.

[wickedwit]

Claudius smoothly elides the subject of deaths or what any given person is willing to die for. "Here's what I suspect. Since you prefer taking action to passive rumination, you're no doubt concerned about how you should act right now. Unexpected information is something to consider, to think about, to integrate into one's groundwork -- and you've been operating off the ideological groundwork set by your more philosophical counterparts for some time. That groundwork still exists -- I'm reading and enjoying some of it now -- but I imagine it feels to have ... shifted slightly. It sounds as though you've been very lucky to have comrades you can rely on, with one unreliable and irritating exception. But it seems Grantaire already had a habit of not behaving according to your expectations. Surprises aren't altogether new for him, and to be honest," Claudius says, although it's a careful honestly, "I don't think you have to act terribly differently because of it. Or act at all, if you'd like to try drinking and contemplating for a bit. You chose a good wine."

[untamedantinous]

"I don't --" He huffs out an annoyed sigh, running his hands through his hair. Claudius is right, in some ways, he doesn't know how to act, but he doesn't want to think about it. Maybe wine is truly the best choice, maybe he should actually hide up in his room and avoid everyone if this is what meeting new people is going to bring him. "I don't know," he says again, and it's less lost than last time, more annoyed with himself and his current situation. "I have never had much of a head for wine, or the patience for contemplation."

[wickedwit]

"I only bring up wine and contemplation as things to try, if you'd like to try them. You needn't commit to them, or any example -- I've other things I could suggest you try, but I doubt you'll want to hear them." Claudius smiles wryly, but he thinks Enjolras seems on surer footing when agitated, less wide-eyed and adrift (less like Galahad, when he has no words). "Am I wrong about you? You can tell me if I am."

[untamedantinous]

He waves a hand, still slightly irritated, taking a drink of wine. "I would not like to think that I am so -- transparent, we have hardly known each other long. You may as well give the suggestions, since it would seem I have nothing better to do here."