deux: it must be done

[untamedantinous]

Enjolras has not held a musket since the barricades. However, there's no time like the present. Through trial and error and various annoyed thoughts directed to the closet in his rooms, he has found one that will suffice. It feels ...strange, to have one in his hands again, to know that not so long ago he had held one and killed more than once with it. But he is pushing aside any lingering apprehensions he may have and heading outside to the shooting range some helpful person had set up in the recent past. Perhaps no one will bother him here, he hopes, it is fairly far afield; and the whole purpose he has will make it difficult to have any conversations.

The slight tension in his shoulders may belie his earlier anxiety, but it has not affected his aim as of yet. Should anyone follow the sounds of gunfire, they will find Enjolras as well, loading, firing, and reloading his musket with some determination.

Comments

[untamedantinous]

"No, my father is a magistrate; they preferred that I follow him into law." He couldn't imagine himself serving in the king's armies at all, his service to France was another thing entirely. (Not to mention likely some of the guardsmen he would have been serving with would have been supports of Bonaparte, whom Enjolras cannot abide.)

"Well, I am sorry to dissuade your fantasies, but I would likely be awful on horseback." He doesn't mention the pause, there, he has had more than enough of those lately to comment on them. "My philosopher friend -- he was also a doctor, or studying to be one. He pulled bullets out of my friends and I more than once."

[wickedwit]

"Physic and philosophy -- two necessities for a revolt, I'm sure. It seems like there are never enough hands to pull bullets out of men on a battlefield, and words of reason are in even shorter supply. All the words of reason couldn't stop two kings from sending men to die in droves over a strip of Norman coast not big enough to bury them in." Claudius shakes his head, suddenly unsure why he's saying all these things. It's far easier to be bitter about war in the abstract. "My apologies. I'm quite glad your friend was there with you."

[untamedantinous]

"Yes. We had another doctor as well, less inclined to philosophy but just as good in medicine. He was rather more...nervous than Combeferre." He still doesn't like thinking of his amis in the past tense. It's strange, when only less than a fortnight ago they were all together, but he puts that thought to the side for now.

"I am glad he was there, too. He was --still trying to get to his work, the last I saw of him."

[wickedwit]

Claudius doesn't know whether to offer condolences or not -- it's a strange thing, to be talking to a dead man about his dead friends. But Enjolras, Claudius reminds himself, is quite alive. Grantaire was quite alive under Claudius's hands. That must be what's unsettling him so, the sense of standing on a battlefield and speaking to a ghost. A ghost like a man Claudius could've slain, but didn't, because life had other ghosts waiting for him.

He refrains from giving condolences. "You've admirable friends. Grantaire spoke admiringly of them, too -- I'd like to hear more of them, when you've a mind for it." Inclining his head, he asks, "Would you care to show me how to use a firearm like yours? I might have better luck on stationary targets."

[untamedantinous]

"Perhaps sometime, then, of course." There's a slight smile, and he nods. "Yes, certainly. What sort did you use in Denmark? They may be similar enough." The musket hasn't changed in a very long time, after all, at least for him.

[wickedwit]

"It's a musket¹, yes? I haven't held one in some time. Whenever I was compelled to join a hunting party, I contrived some reason to stand back, so as not to embarrass myself." He idly waves a hand, waving off whatever embarrassment he might feel now, telling his weaknesses to a handsome young man on a shooting range. "I might remember how to aim. But when it comes to firing, I've always lacked the conviction and courage -- two traits I understand you possess. You've a very sure stance."

¹ The typist likes to handwave timelines and will never commit to saying what year Claudius came from, but the Danes were using muskets by 1611.

[untamedantinous]

“Yes. I doubt they have changed overmuch, since your time?” He continues with the reloading, then, thumping the musket on the ground at the end instead of using the ramrod.

“Well, this one does have a bit of a kick to it, I was used to the one I had at home. And I cannot promise I will be a patient teacher. Would you like to watch me fire, or…?”

[wickedwit]

Claudius can't help but smile. Enjolras has a very sure stance, but it's clear he hesitates, when it comes to the matters of teaching and sharing with other people. "I'll watch you fire first. If you don't mind."

[untamedantinous]

“Of course not.” And so he steps a short distance away and fires again, sure and true, the bullet hitting its target as expected. (It is as he said; he is not a patient man.)

[wickedwit]

No hesitation at all. Wistfully, Claudius wonders what that’s like. But confidence can be trained — he suspects he’s a more confident dancer than Enjolras, and certainly more confident with casual flirtations. Those things come with practice. “It’s as though the weapon and bullet both are only extensions of your will,” Claudius says admiringly. “I’m quite impressed.”

[untamedantinous]

Not here, no. At the barricades, when there is a young man on the other end of the barrel, occasionally. He does regret what he had to do there, but there was nothing else to be done in the moment.

“Practice,” is all he says, with a slight shrug. “My father taught me some five years ago, when I was still at home. I doubt he intended me to put it to the use I did.” He settles in to reloading the musket again, intent on his task.

[wickedwit]

"He imagined more genteel hunting parties in your future, I'm sure," Claudius remarks dryly. "Chances to see and be seen by important people on your way to becoming the next magistrate." It's something fathers do, isn't it? Teach their sons skills to set them up for success on a path that just so happens to run parallel to their own? Or it's something Claudius observed. He learned most of his skills like this, by standing back and watching, though he was rather less chatty as youth.

[untamedantinous]

"He should have known better," mildly. "I am not one to sit complacent in the countryside." He offers the musket, with a nod towards it. "Would you like a go at it? Perhaps not shooting, just let me see how you hold it. It may just be a matter of adjusting your form."

[wickedwit]

"I'll be quite grateful for your instruction." Claudius takes the musket from Enjolras -- it truly has been some time since he held such a thing. But he can see now he held it too tight, stock gripped in his shaking hands, afraid to drop it and dearly wishing he could. He has to consciously loosen his grip, when he raises it again.

[untamedantinous]

He stands back to get a better look at his form, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "It is alright, but you look like it is a snake that might bite you at the slightest inconvenience." It's playful enough chiding, and he moves to settle Claudius' hands where they should be. "It will not do anything until you direct it to, you know."

[wickedwit]

Claudius laughs, and there's something like relief in his laugh -- at the teasing, comfortable and familiar, and the confident grace of Enjolras's hands on his. He doesn't have to stand here aiming at the ghosts of his past, recounting past mistakes. "Like a dangerous but biddable young man. Yes, I'll keep that in mind."

[untamedantinous]

"Good." There's a brief smile, and a nod. "Do you recall how to fire it? Just pull the trigger, there, if you would like; but mind the recoil." There's a beat. "'Dangerous but biddable,' hm? It sounds like you have experience."

[wickedwit]

“With firearms? Not since the war. With young men, yes, all kinds. I may lack martial skill or strength, but I admire it … and there are few things more satisfying than taking some attractive firebrand and turning him to my purposes with a word, or a look, or a touch on the chest.” He’s only teasing to build back his confidence — but it’s working well enough. A gun is a dangerous weapon, but it will only do what Claudius bids it to do. All it takes is a touch. For the first shot, he doesn’t have to aim anywhere but away, and when he presses the trigger, it’s a far-too-easy flick of the finger. The recoil does hit harder than he expected, and he hisses, but there’s something satisfying even in that, like the bucking of a rough and eager lover.

[untamedantinous]

He just raises his eyebrows a little. "I am not so easily lead, I regret to inform you." It's said lightly, almost solemn, though it is slightly teasing back. He settles back in to watch, carefully, noting any adjustments he might need to make for the next time.

"Well done. It does like to jump, doesn't it? I do wish I had mine from home, it was much easier."

[wickedwit]

"Thank you for your instruction," Claudius says back appreciatively. "I wouldn't have managed otherwise. Also," he adds, "the biddable and easily lead men are only one of my weaknesses. I also like the charmingly difficult."

[untamedantinous]

"Any time." He does mean it; he may as well ofer lessons if there is nothing else for him to do here. Perhaps it may become part of his routine.

He snorts at Claudius' last, however, shaking his head. "Of course you do. I assure you I will do my best to continue to be difficult, I have been told I am excellent at it."

[wickedwit]

Claudius laughs, delighted and surprised by how much that sounded like flirting back. It's probably wiser to assume it isn't, given everything he knows. "I'll look forward to it, then," he says, and offers the gun back.

[untamedantinous]

It absolutely wasn't, but Enjolras is quite aware of the effect he has on people. He nods, looking a bit bemused, and takes the musket back in hand. "Is there anything else you needed?"

[wickedwit]

"I could use another recommendation. I appreciated Rousseau's rather vicious critique of hereditary monarchy and may be persuaded against monarchy altogether. But like all cynics, I was more convinced by his arguments against than his arguments for anything. I'd like to read what your other philosophers say about the ideal state of governance."

[untamedantinous]

"Laertes has taken quite a liking to Voltaire, if you have a fondness for plays. One of my favorites is Socrates, but there are a number of his writings in the library as well." He justs lifts his eyebrows a little at the mention of 'cynics', managing to mostly hide an eyeroll. "Then again, if you require an altogether more cynical viewpoint, I would recommend Grantaire over myself."