open: don't let the wine go to your brains

[untamedantinous]

It shouldn’t be this hard to prepare for a meeting. He’s done it countless times before. However, this time, it somehow is difficult. He’s never really had to set things up at times like this; and he knows as well as anyone else that he is not the best at social niceties. Granted, this meeting is in a much more well-appointed cafe than any he had ever been accustomed to holding space in in Paris. At least they have the benefit of a larger space. Consequently, Enjolras has spent much of the day of the eighth of Menestheus preparing, a little uncertain of how to plan a social gathering that is not immediately centered around planning a revolution. He is trying his best, at least.

Most of the tables and chairs have been pushed a bit more to the center of the room; the couch is arranged off to the opposite side. There are even various pillows scattered about, should anyone choose to sit on the floor. Arranged on a few of the larger tables and the counter there is a modest spread of food: of course, some of Laertes and Galahad’s pastries; but Enjolras has also procured what amounts to a few charcuterie platters: sliced sausages and meats, a selection of (mostly French) cheese, and various sliced loaves of bread and crackers are laid out for perusal, and spreads to go along with them. In an effort to provide multiple options of entertainment, Grantaire has set up a table somewhat near the food, with an assortment of wines and liqueurs. Off to one side, there are a few pots of brewed coffee, cream, sugar, and whatever else anyone might like to add to their beverage of choice. If anyone is drawn to the liquor cabinet, they will find three cups filled with various pieces of paper sitting atop it.

Enjolras himself is lingering on the couch with a glass of wine and some bread. He’s not sure how many people were even informed about this gathering, though he had done his best to advertise. If no one arrives then perhaps he will try again another time; but at least a few in attendance other than himself and Grantaire would certainly be welcome.

Comments

[temnota]

"Oh indeed," Aleksander answered playfully. "What a hardship it would be to provide personal instruction to such a promising student."

[sagramore]

"Thou knowst me to be promising? I suppose we have danced together once."

[temnota]

"Indeed! It was only one dance, yes, but it was enough to let me see your sense of rhythm, your grace, your musicality... I see much promise." Aleksander was being a little ridiculous but he meant each word.

[sagramore]

"Sir! Thou'rt too kind. But I'll be thy diligent pupil for words like that."

[temnota]

For a moment, Aleksander considered reaching for Sagramore's hand to give an ostentatious kiss but thought the better of it. "Unlike others, I have never thought cruelty or unkind words appropriate methods for teaching."

[sagramore]

"Thou wouldst train dogs well," with a little grin.

[temnota]

"Would I? I am not sure," Aleksander said playfully. "I do rather enjoy being a dog uncle and thus getting all of joy but none of the hard work."

[sagramore]

"Well, that's a choice, that doesn't speak to thine own natural talents."

[temnota]

Aleksander nodded, conceding the point. "I've never had the opportunity thus far but I wouldn't be opposed if it ever became necessary. It surely can't be any worse then teaching students."

[sagramore]

"Good, it's decided," and this time he does kiss Aleksander on the cheek -- it doesn't matter, he's not ashamed to be seen affectionate with Aleksander and Aleksander probably isn't ashamed either.

[temnota]

Once, Aleksander would have shied away from such displays of affection. Now, he smiled fondly and returned the kiss. "I wonder now if I should consider establishing a dance school for dogs as well."

[sagramore]

"I'm in!"

[temnota]

"You and Szarka will be the principle dancers," Aleksander grinned. "Kade does sewing work, does he not? I'll have to commission him for costumes."

[sagramore]

"She'll be beautiful. I'll see if he can make her a little diadem for her brow."

[temnota]

"She will be the fairest princess in all of the land," Aleksander declared. "Not that she isn't, already."

[sagramore]

"No, no, but once she's crowned it will be another matter." He glances towards Enjolras, with a grin. "We'll just keep it to ourselves lest she be overthrown."

[temnota]

It took Aleksander a moment then he remembered Enjolras's opinion on monarchy and laughed. "Of course. We have to give her time to grow into her role, pave the way so all will know and love her."

[sagramore]

"Right, once she has the hearts of the people there'll be no one who can move against her."

[temnota]

"She'll be such a wise and benevolent ruler," Aleksander said, putting a hand to his heart dramatically. "It shall be a golden age."

[sagramore]

"A time of plenty and peace."

[temnota]

Though Aleksander knew they were only being ridiculous, he couldn't help the note of sadness in his voice.
"That is all I ever wanted."

[sagramore]

Sagramore's face falls, and he reaches for Aleksander's hands. "My heart--"

[temnota]

Aleksander quickly shook his head though he let Sagramore take his hands. "I am all right. I did not mean for that to come out how it did."

[sagramore]

"Thou shouldst have had the peace thou didst long for."

[temnota]

"I have it now," Aleksander said softly. "And I am grateful for it."