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[tu_vas_triompher]

Feuilly is--surprise, surprise--working in his room. It's proving harder than he expected--no, well, it's proving just as hard as he expected--to break down the language of 21st-century pedagogy into pieces that he understands well enough to build from by himself. But the effort is rewarding in itself. Just reading the first pages of an article on "the challenges of adult student persistence in library literacy programs" is an exercise in the foreign and the familiar. Students expressed two types of learning goals: specific 'instrumental' goals that must be reached in order to realize longer-term aspirations and broader 'transformational' goals that entail major life changes, such as taking on a new social or work role. Just that one sentence holds struggles that he recognizes intimately--and a way of thinking and writing that would turn away much of his Paris. Aspirations, transformations, new social roles?

So...work is going slowly.

Comments

[tu_vas_triompher]

Huh.

Hector is on Feuilly's bed, despite a widely-understood rule that the dogs do not get on Feuilly's bed; he groans and huffs and buries his nose in Harry's hair. A few moments later, Feuilly sits down, nudging Harry just enough to make space for him.

"Hullo."

[harryhotspur]

Harry wiggles himself around in order to look at Feuilly and get at a better head-patting angle for Hector. "How dost thou? What art thou busied with today?"

[tu_vas_triompher]

"Oh--the, the literacy project. Trying to teach myself how to teach. Hector--" Eh, no, he's not going to tell the dog to get down off the bed. He gives his side an affectionate gentle thump instead. "But what have you been doing?"

Because that was an awfully energetic entrance there.

[harryhotspur]

"Teach thyself to teach," he echoes. "Why, is it an art that may be learned so? And what wilt thou teach? I thought though hadst a project of translation in hand." No, he's not ignoring your question, Feuilly! He's just so fascinated by pedagogy!

[tu_vas_triompher]

"Well, it's not as simple as translation. That is--I need to understand the work better before I try to, to adapt it to Paris of my time. And I need to write an introduction for the book that will convince teachers--teachers in my Paris--that it's worth trying. And I need to write instructions so that even untrained people can teach. --Well, I don't know how much of that I can manage, but I want to try."

Harry is ignoring his question. Which is fine; if he really didn't want to talk, he wouldn't have come here, so Feuilly can wait. But he's not above giving a little nudge. "Have you been out yet today? Is it any warmer?"

[harryhotspur]

"If 'tis a matter of wit and industry, thou canst not fail," Harry says. "For thou lack'st not either."

He wriggles over again so that he can sit up properly. "Warmer? --ay, a touch, perhaps. I rode, and felt it little. The prince is back." This casually, as if an aspect of the weather: the breeze is high, the rain has stopped, the prince is here.

[tu_vas_triompher]

"The-- Hal?"

Yeah, no, you can't just sneak that in unnoticed, Harry. "I thought he wasn't coming back here."

[harryhotspur]

"As did I, and as, it seems, did he." Oh, also. "--he is now king."

[tu_vas_triompher]

"Right, he--was expecting to be." Feuilly chews on his lip. "He didn't mean to come here, then? Is he, what, busy invading France--?"

[harryhotspur]

Uhhh.

"--he sails for battle," says Harry. "One moment aboard ship, the next, here. It has been some years since last he came here." He laughs, though it's rather humorless. "And but a month here!"

[tu_vas_triompher]

"Years." He leans a little bit against Harry, ready to pull away if it's not wanted. "How many? --How much did you two talk?"

[harryhotspur]

It seems wanted enough: Harry leans against him in return.

"I know not how long we spoke. He seems much changed. We talked of-- of England, of Scotland, of who keeps the border and who keeps at home. Who holds favor and who does not. --my family."

Now that he's come to it, he almost can't form the words, they seem so impossible and strange.

"--my wife did bear a son."

[tu_vas_triompher]

"What? Wh--?"

When, he'd been about to ask, but it's the sort of question that has Implications, and he'd just as soon hear what Harry wants to say about things first. "What did he say about it?"

[harryhotspur]

"He said-- " What did he say? Suddenly, it seems like hardly anything at all. "He has granted him my father's title. An infant earl he is, and Henry Percy called."

[tu_vas_triompher]

"Oh." He's still leaning against Harry; now he leans a little harder. "That's--so, he's--he has Workworth, and, and the family's lands--?"

What do you ask about an unexpected, unmet, unmeetable son? "How is Kate?"

[harryhotspur]

"She-- she is well, methinks." Another thing he should of asked. Why on earth did he let Hal go on about borders and favorites and armies and didn't think to ask after his family? Then again-- when had he ever?

"He hath lands and titles and all, though I doubt not his mother has the manage of them, until he comes of age."

[tu_vas_triompher]

"Yes, well, I, um. Wasn't imagining he'd be running Northumberland from the, the cradle."

What do earls do? ...What do babies do?

"I'm glad to hear he's, he's-- I'm glad your family is keeping its place." Well, all right, he isn't philosophically in favor of earls, but still. It's good that tiny Harry Percy is taken care of. "He-- your father, is he, um--"

[harryhotspur]

Seriously, what do babies do?

"He is dead," Harry says flatly. And look, see? Harry doesn't care at all.

[tu_vas_triompher]

Feuilly has had a passing acquaintance with many babies--they were all over the place in his foster mother's house--but suddenly that seems quite unrelated to thinking about a dear friend's own particular baby. For once he hopes that baby earls are better protected against ills and dangers than baby foundlings.

--And, oh. Harry's father.

Oh.

Harry might wear no expression, but Feuilly is still going to rest his head on his shoulder.

[harryhotspur]

That's alright. Harry is silent there for a moment or two.

Then he nudged his head against Feuilly's and says, "Come, shall we practice?"

[tu_vas_triompher]

He leans a little harder before straightening up and giving Hector's ears a ruffle. "Sure, let's. Outside? Or do you want to try the practice space indoors?"

[harryhotspur]

"O, let us try it," Harry agrees. "Unless it please thee match the heat of practice with a chilling air."

[tu_vas_triompher]

"Indoors," he says mildly. "I don't love the cold for its own sake. Come on, let's get our swords."

[harryhotspur]

"--I would not do well in the keeping of a child," Harry says abruptly as he starts towards the door. It's plainly a thought that's been rattling around all the while. "Methinks it is better thus."

[tu_vas_triompher]

"Oh--" Feuilly stops in his tracks. "Oh, no, I think you would do just fine."

But it's not an option, is it. He tugs a hand through his hair. "You'd learn. But it sounds like he'll be all right."