closed: and i soar through a world that is new, that is free (post-dance)

[untamedantinous]

Enjolras has been puttering about the mansion in the past few days since the wedding dance. Today, he has spent some time outside with Temeraire -- it's getting colder, and the warmth of Temeraire's pavilion has become quite a snug little place to read to him, when Galahad is not. He had moved onto some canne de combat practice after their customary few chapters a day, which had occupied him until just recently.

The winter is coming in faster, now, and Enjolras has never been one for the cold. Certainly the south of France is not as far south as many other places in the world, but he grew up accustomed to it being somewhat warmer there than it was in Paris. So now, he is curled up in front of a fire that is crackling merrily, sipping at some vin chaud as he leafs through a book of recipes. There is, indeed, a pile of books nearby -- both cookbooks and others, but right now he is looking for something easy to set his sights on for his next baking adventure.

Comments

[untamedantinous]

He takes the offered hand and twines his fingers with Laertes’, looking thoughtful. “I. Well, we danced, and I could not stop thinking about him; and you know very well that I am not a patient man,” he laughs sheepishly. “That is to say: I was. I am? It —feels correct.”

[timebethine]

"Then let's make an onion soup that thou canst share with him," says Laertes, rising to his feet again with a last bite of his concha. He pulls Enjolras's hand, urging him to stand.

[untamedantinous]

“Oh, but I was very comfortable,” he says, though he does stand and pulls Laertes close. “I wasn’t intending on cooking anything at the present moment.”

[timebethine]

"Then I'll not press it on thee," says Laertes, and he nestles easily into Lucien's arms. "Thou didst look warm and settled in thy place. An thou wouldst rather sit by the fire, I'll sit at thy feet and hold thy hand."

[untamedantinous]

“I would do anything you desired by the fire, cher.” He nuzzles close, smiling. “I enjoyed our dance as well, the other night. I enjoyed most of the evening, to be truthful.” Clearly that good mood has held over.

[timebethine]

"That makes me glad to hear--I'd feared that obligation would compel, where I would rather inclination invite thee to dance."

[untamedantinous]

“I would not say I am inclined as a rule, particularly, but the company was very good.” He smirks a little. “Sagramore was—ah, quite the gentleman.” He is actually being serious, though it’s a little hard to tell.

[timebethine]

Laertes laughs and tugs Lucien over to the couch across the fireplace from their two chairs, snatching up the last of the vin chaud to carry over with them. "Oh? Was he sweet to kiss?"

[untamedantinous]

“I have not had all that much experience,” he laughs, and sprawls down on the couch with a will. “As I said, he was a gentleman. Quite polite about it, even asked if he might. It was ah, sweet, yes.”

[timebethine]

"Wouldst have him kiss thee again? Or hast thou had thy fill?" He takes a sip of the vin chaud (still deliciously warm on his tongue) and then passes it back to Lucien. It's easy, now, to adjust so that their bodies are comfortably angled together: Laertes's legs thrown over Lucien's lap, his arm tucked under Lucien's, curled around his back.

[untamedantinous]

“I have had my fill for now, I think; it was mostly for your reaction.” He’s smirking still, happily snuggling in as close as he can to Laertes. “I am glad you like the vin chaud, it seemed appropriate for the weather.”

[timebethine]

"I'd like it just a little sweeter, but ay, the spices are good," says Laertes. "We might make a brioche after the old fashion with these fruits and spices; I know not how to bring the taste of wine in without making a soup of the bread dough, but I'm sure there's some recipe that will answer the purpose."

[untamedantinous]

“That can be easily fixed with sugar, but I haven’t any at the moment.” He takes a drink himself, and looks thoughtful. “I don’t know how to do it either. I’m sure someone has, though, we need only look.”

[timebethine]

"That reminds me--hast thou thought further of what thou wouldst like to print?" They've done some practice typesetting to make room labels in service of Laertes's vision and Susan's, and they're starting to gain something approaching proficiency with the art.

[untamedantinous]

“Mmm, not quite yet. I still need to ask Magnus what he would like to learn of social sciences, we have not encountered each other much since he has been outside.”

[timebethine]

"Susan has begun a project of inventory; there may soon be call for further signs, and she'll likely appreciate the precision of the printed word," suggests Laertes. "But thou might'st try writing an essay of thine own, about the principles thou hold'st sacred. To have our own thoughts on the right organization and conduct of a society set down and shared will make them easier to debate, when we begin having meetings."

[untamedantinous]

“That’s true; it has been some time since I’ve written anything.” He takes a thoughtful sip of wine. “Perhaps you might as well, if you like; I know we have similar views but not entirely so.”

[timebethine]

"I doubt my philosophy would stand to be written--it's a thing felt more than thought, composed of passions more than of arguments," Laertes demurs. "Considered with an academic eye, all its unfounded premises would fall to pieces."

[untamedantinous]

“You needn’t, then, if you don’t wish to. I will speak for the both of us,” he says fondly. “I do not know how much debate there may be had in this place, however, everyone seems to see it differently. Temeraire, I know, would like it much better if his Laurence was here; but he does like the company.”

[timebethine]

"If it were merely a matter of liking, then there could be no debate; as the ancients tell us, there can be no disputing of tastes," laughs Laertes. He noses against Lucien's cheek. "But other questions--whether leadership is needful; how disputes ought to be resolved--may become more urgent as our small society grows."

[untamedantinous]

“Mm, yes; and I would have it be a republic,” Lucien says, one hand coming up to rest in Laertes’ hair. “But others—certainly one in specific—may wish to rule; and I have had quite enough of kings, thank you. It is a mercy that we are not so big yet.”

[timebethine]

"How wouldst thou resolve a dispute, in this republic of the mansion?" Laertes asks as he settles. "Say--one steals from another that which cannot be replaced. Tress's spores, perhaps. Lan Wangji's blade. How wouldst thou answer the theft?"

[untamedantinous]

“You make it sound as if I intend to lead,” he says quietly, but he’s willing to entertain the idea. “If elected, I would, of course; but I do not wish to. Let me think. If this was the case; surely we would need people here as —as peacekeepers, if not police; but I would like to think that most everyone here is adept at fending for themselves. But that would also assume there would be some —punishment if the object could not be found, and I cannot think what that would be here, where there are no courts or things of that nature. Justice must be satisfied, however; and I...” He sighs a little. “Ah, you have already heard my form of justice at the barricade. I would not wish for that here.”

[timebethine]

"That is the fundamental problem of Rousseau, is it not? How to attain order not through the threat of force--which always encourages the exercise of force--but instead through mutual agreement. But if we defer the ability to wield force to the republic, we have not resolved the problem of force; we have only changed who is permitted to wield it."

[untamedantinous]

“It is, yes,” he allows, and nuzzles close to kiss Laertes’ cheek lazily. “It would, perhaps, require a group of people rather than one singular man or woman. I would hesitate to make such decisions on my own, in a time and place that is not fit for such things.”