tu_vas_triompher | (no subject)

It turns out that you can't actually just lie around in the grass forever; for one thing, bugs start biting you, and other residents come strolling by or want to visit the stable, and the day wears on. So Feuilly had gone to his work--belatedly--and Harry had gone about whatever Harry does--presumably horse things? Knight things?

And Feuilly had set himself to start his painting and his translation work an hour earlier the next morning. He'd fit more hours into the day if he could, but until Joly or Combeferre discovers something along those lines, he'll just sleep less! It's a workable plan!

So Feuilly has circles under his eyes as well as bruises under his shirt when he wanders to the stable in the late afternoon. With his practice sword! With his practice sword held rather awkwardly, because he's not sure if he and Percy actually have a...scheduled...arrangement to meet...? But, you know, he's just. Wandering over to the stables. With a sword.

Like you do.

Well, also a basket of food. He'd been hungry after their training session.

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From:

harryhotspur

He's a brat sometimes, this is known. When Feuilly returns dripping wet, he considers that that really is a good idea-- but not enough to be bothered with all that standing up business just this minute.

"Well then," he says. "Wouldst talk of Poland now?"

From:

tu_vas_triompher

"...You think I won't?" Feuilly wipes his face on his sleeve. "All right. In your time--I think--the Polish-Lithuanian union has just begun to form. I know more about the history closer to my time, of course, but--but it's worth noting that very early on the Polish-Lithuanian Union featured a--government that, that stood out among the, the growing absolutism of the neighboring monarchies--"

He shouldn't be this tired, dammit.

From:

harryhotspur

"And those neighbors are..." He decides to venture a guess. "...Bohemia?"

From:

tu_vas_triompher

Feuilly blinks and rolls up on his elbow to look at him. "Well--yes, in fact."

From:

harryhotspur

--he wasn't actually expecting to be right! "And this, my friend, is the sum of all I know of Poland."

From:

tu_vas_triompher

"Well, but it's right, Bohemia is one of Poland's neighbors." Yes. Good job, Harry Percy! Now--where were they? "--Right. Um. Europe in general was tending more and more towards absolutism, absolute monarchies. In Poland and Lithuania the nobility controlled the government--a large nobility, all equal to one another, with guaranteed freedoms. Nice for the nobility, though the peasants still had nothing--"

He's losing the thread of his speech, and he suspects he's lost his audience's attention, and maybe he's said enough to make his point for now.

From:

harryhotspur

"Wouldst rather tell it another time?" Harry asks, trying not to sound too amused at Feuilly's tired fumbling.

From:

tu_vas_triompher

"...You'll still have to listen." You're not going to get away from history and political theory that easily, Harry Percy! But yes. Maybe another time. The sun has dipped below the buildings now; the grass isn't so warm as it was. They should probably get up--eat--find drier clothes--

Feuilly realizes he's been staring absently at Harry's face, and looks away. "There's food in that basket. Bread, cheese."

From:

harryhotspur

"I did swear I would, and so I shall! I have tormented thee this past hour and more, sure thou'rt due payment in kind."

Harry brightens at the promise of food and scrambles carefully up to his feet to go investigate, reaching out to ruffle a hand over Feuilly's hair as he passes. He returns a moment later with the basket in tow, sits, and only then begins fishing through it, unearthing first a piece of bread which he offers to Feuilly.

From:

tu_vas_triompher

Feuilly spends the time in sitting up himself. It's a bit of work. He takes the bread with a silent and grateful nod and bites into it, and nods again a few times before he attempts further words.

"--It's getting late."

Such oratory.

From:

harryhotspur

"'tis," he agrees, squinting up at the halo of sunlight about to disappear behind the buildings beyond. "When I left England, 'twas high summer, and the sun set slow and late. I know not what the season is here."

From:

tu_vas_triompher

"The beginning of July. And they say the climate is a lot like Scotland's." So--probably familiar, as much as anything here can be. And yes, they still have quite some time before it's truly dark.

From:

harryhotspur

"Scotland," he echoes thoughtfully. Hell is a bar in Scotland? That seems entirely probable.

"Thy shirt--" He reaches over to give the damp collar a tug. "Thou'lt catch cold, soaked so in the night air."

But for all that his words imply a recommendation that they get up and leave... you know, it's really only twilight still-- so he only moves to break off a piece of cheese and offer that, too.

From:

tu_vas_triompher

"Mmmh." He doesn't really want to sit here in his wet shirt; it would be all right in the noon sun but it's chilly and clinging now. But he doesn't want to go back to his room... His mind shies away from the thought of going with Hotspur into the warm dimness of the stable building, in search of something else to wear, and he lets it for now.

But after he takes the piece of cheese, Feuilly snickers suddenly. "--If you propose throwing a horse-blanket over me, I'll--"

From:

harryhotspur

"Why, many a soldier has done so, on watchful lights when no fires may be lit," Hotspur says stubbornly, but then breaks into a grin and flicks a bit of bread at Feuilly. "Thou shouldst not disdain it. Truly, the smell is not so very bad."

From:

tu_vas_triompher

Feuilly ruffles the breadcrumb out of his hair. "Well--then get one for yourself too. Delicate noble blood and all that-- I'm the sturdy peasant here."

From:

harryhotspur

Hotspur lifts his brows. "Shall I be thy valet? Well, so I shall."

He hoists himself up again and retreats into the stable. When he returns, he drops a blanket right on Feuilly's head: not, in fact, a horse blanket at all, but the blanket from the cot in the tack room.

From:

tu_vas_triompher

Well, when he puts it like that...

Feuilly is not going to be his valet. But he doesn't feel any great need to say so out loud. He yelps and flails the blanket cheerfully off his head, then shakes it out and wraps it around himself, rubbing his damp arms and shoulders a little before looking to see whether Harry did indeed get one for himself. "Thanks. --I've never been to Scotland, so I can't say if this is much like it. But it was winter when I got here, with plenty of snow and cold."

Okay, so he's talking directionlessly about the weather.

From:

harryhotspur

In fact, he didn't, as there was only the one blanket on the cot, and he probably has enough of a horsey air about him at the moment without compounding it with an actual horse's blanket.

"Too little rain," he says firmly. "To be very like Scotland, there must be more rain."

From:

tu_vas_triompher

"And Northumberland is about the same?" Feuilly looks over at him, sighs, and lifts a corner of the blanket around his shoulders. "--You could have one end. If you want. It's a big blanket." And neither of them takes up very much space.

From:

harryhotspur

Harry nods. "Ay, very near. Paris is warmer, I warrant."

He scoots a little closer and grabs on to the offered corner, though he's plainly making an effort not to tug any of it actually off of Feuilly.

From:

tu_vas_triompher

"A little, I think," he says doubtfully. "Lyon was warmer than Paris--and much less rain. Paris is very grey. --But beautiful." It's the best city in the world, especially if an Englishman asks.

The fraught nature of this rivalry is clear in the way he scoots closer as well, setting himself shoulder to shoulder and knee to knee with Percy until the blanket stretches far enough for two.

From:

harryhotspur

"I think I would like to see it Paris. With an army at my back, to be sure," he adds cheerfully, knocking his shoulder against Feuilly's to assure him that it's only a joke. He stays there, just slightly leaning, the damp of Feuilly's sleeve pressing into his.

From:

tu_vas_triompher

"--what, to get a decent meal? It's all right--you don't need your army--our Paris gamins aren't that dangerous."

He jostles back, likewise to show that it's a joke, but really there's not much room to get closer, is there?

From:

harryhotspur

"Ay, that Lesgle showed me your French foods-- all soft and sweet--" He makes a face, but really can't complain further, since he really quite liked it.