Open Post: A pair of gloves

[sporesprouter]

Tress was an old hand at waiting. She'd waited for Charlie for more than a year once. Having to do it twice was somewhat disheartening at times, but the mansion kind of had more to offer than the Rock had. (Not quite as much as the spore seas, but... nothing ever would.)

The first time she waited, she was the one to go out and fix it herself. (With help.)

This time, though... sometimes waiting apparently works.

There's a flash of red out of the corner of her eye as she passes a lounge. But that's not the important part. She's clearly on her way to the kitchen to cook her heart out. Charlie's here now. Tress is ecstatic.

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[wickedwit]

Claudius’s resolution is set. There’s no particular reason he has to do this now, but if he waits for a reason, he knows he never will. Wheels have been set in motion, the last standing threat to their little society will be dispatched with, and between the tincture he’s brewing and the favor Luo Binghe will owe him, he’ll never have to fear that man’s prideful threats again.

Such a cold way to think. Dispatched with. He thinks of the woman of with Tress's face, likewise cold and logical, saying, So then what would happen was in the interest of her protection. He thinks of Gertrude, insistent, a beautiful clarity to her gaze, saying, You gave me my freedom. He thinks of Lan Wangji, quiet, thoughtful, each word laden with significance, like a weiqi stone dropped into place, saying, Canniness and kindness are a rare set of twins to find indeed, and all the understanding offered therein.

What he did for Gertrude, he also did for Denmark. What he does now -- merciless as it may be, assembling dangerous forces from multiple worlds for the assassination of a single woman -- he does for the sake of the only peaceful place he's ever lived. A fragile peace from the beginning, from that day in the garden when he realized he was vulnerable to powers worse than anything in Elsinore, but he can see it finally take the shape of something solid. Lasting.

At last, he thinks of Laertes, the blazing heat of his conviction, a fire Claudius longed to reach out and touch with his own hand. Pretend no righteousness with me, when thou didst right. Claudius will never have that conviction. He will always bear the weight of his crime, knowing that it was a crime, knowing he would never repent of it. There's some base instinct, he believes and once told Enjolras under a spell of truth, not knowing he believed it, that keeps us from killing our fellows, that lets us see similarities in other men and understand that they feel as we do, and that keeps us from killing them easily. It shouldn't be easy to kill a brother. It shouldn't be easy to kill a lonely woman, even one who's killed another, even one who's chosen loneliness by removing herself from memory. Evil for the sake of evil. It's a terrible way to live. It's a cowardly thought, but Claudius thinks she might be ready to die.

Still, Claudius can't pretend he didn't make that choice. That he wouldn't make it again, for the sake of those he cares for -- for the sake of Tress, who he loves like a niece, who should never have to fight a war or take a life. That's why (he thinks wryly) Claudius and his brother will never see eye-to-eye. King Hamlet was quite content to recruit the younger Hamlet into his private war.

But Claudius can't shield her from everything. Tress's other self was practical, just like Tress. If she's to hear the truth from someone, she should hear it from him. He raps a hand on the doorframe, politely says, "Lady Tress. May I have a moment of your time?"

[sporesprouter]

When Tress turns to look at Claudius, she's radiant in a way she has absolutely not been since she set foot on the mansion grounds. "Of course! And I have news!"

[wickedwit]

Claudius straightens himself up, needlessly readjusting his cuff-links, before focusing on Tress anew. He tries to veil the anxiety in his eyes with polite interest. "Well, I can hardly resist an opening like that," he says, putting on a smile. "What news?"

[sporesprouter]

If any anxiety makes it through, Tress surely doesn't notice. "Charlie's here!"

[wickedwit]

“Charlie.” Claudius’s eyebrows shoot up. “That is extraordinary news. You’ll have to introduce us. Where is he keeping himself?”

[sporesprouter]

"He's exploring while I make some of his favorites."I

[wickedwit]

He can’t do it. He can’t inflict his own secret miseries on Tress at her happiest, not when the happiness was so hard-won. He’s seen her leave her body and fling herself through a familiar at the ceiling of this place, just for the slim chance to get back to Charlie. It’s easy to slip back into the role of idle, gossiping uncle, and simply be delighted for her.

“Is he the shy, retiring sort, then?” he teases. “Did he need a moment to recollect himself, after seeing your face? What did he say when he saw you?”

[sporesprouter]

"Oh, moons, it was just... it's all a blur, it happened so suddenly. Like any of us arriving, I guess."

[wickedwit]

"Tress," he says fondly. "Are you trying to spare my unsullied ears? I assure you there's no need. I know what two people want to do when they've been reunited after months apart. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were quick about it, and they were only separated for days." He was rather pleased and proud of his new friend, too.

[sporesprouter]

Tress turns bright red and splutters a bit. "What... No, I just... no!"

[wickedwit]

"Waiting for marriage? I did want to have a word or two with him on the subject."

[sporesprouter]

"That's not it. It's just been so long everything should be perfect first."

[wickedwit]

"Romantic," he says, smile softening. "It will be a pleasure to meet him nonetheless. Do you think you'll combine your intellects seeking a way out? Or will you be able to relax for a while?" It's what he hopes. What so many here hope for Tress, he knows -- one day, he still wants to experience Tress's world, to sail the spore seas with her. But perhaps with her young man here, the search will lose some of its urgency and become a pleasant past-time.

[sporesprouter]

"Well, I still want to get home so I can see everyone... everyone else. The rest of my crew and my family... but it should be nicer. Less... worrying. To have him with me."

[wickedwit]

"Of course it will. He's your favorite pair of gloves."

[sporesprouter]

She nods. "There's... so much I want to do. It's overwhelming."

[wickedwit]

"One step at a time, my dear." He truly can't take this from her -- perhaps even if he tried. Perhaps this is the best time to tell her, when she has someone comforting and familiar as a favorite pair of gloves nearby. But he can't tell her yet. "First," he says, "tell me everything. None of this it's all a blur. Where did you find him? In the foyer? Out in the gardens? Did you show him your welcome table?" He can imagine the relief that would have struck Charlie, if he found the welcome table first, and recognized his lady's handwriting. She's his pair of gloves, too, after all, and coming here is disorienting enough.

[sporesprouter]

Tress furrows her brow, thinking it over. It all is a blur, so she tries to rewind her day to figure it out. "The welcome table..." She must have shown him the welcome table. So he can see that she has to explain all about spores because everyone else has water seas. "Yes, I showed him the welcome table. I found him.." It has to have been close enough by there, because she wouldn't have dragged him so far afield immediately, right? ".. outside? When I was on my way back from checking on Fenyes?"

That must be right.

[wickedwit]

"You don't sound certain," Claudius observes. Perhaps Claudius doesn't understand how young people are in love. He could tell you precisely where he was, what he was doing, when he saw Gertrude -- how he was stooped in the garden bed, shirt-sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hoping for a riot of red blooms in summer. Then she appeared on her own, her skirt a red blossom, her hair the dawning summer sun, and he didn't dare hope. Not while he was laying in for a long winter. He remembers her bright, laughing eyes, those lines his fingers longed to trace, the fullness of her smile as she teased him.

It must be the giddiness of youth that makes it easy to forget. Still, something nags at him.

[sporesprouter]

"Honestly, I'm not? But that makes the most sense. I wasn't going to be doing anything out of the ordinary, so that must be it. I guess seeing him just... scattered everything."

[wickedwit]

"Of course," Claudius says slowly. He can't shake the feeling that questioning further would be crueler than any confession of past guilt. "Did he meet anyone else? I know someone's arrival can be a dizzying day of introductions."

[sporesprouter]

"I think I was the first one, but he has to have run into someone else by now. That's how arrivals go."

[wickedwit]

"He didn't tell you." He says it flatly, forgetting for a moment to control his tone. "I suppose you had other things to talk about. So many things to catch up on."

[sporesprouter]

She nods, thinking. "Yes. Like everyone here, and the events, and seas made from water, and Crow visiting..."

[wickedwit]

"All the stories you'd saved up for him." That's how it was with Gertrude. There wasn't enough time to tell her everything -- there's never enough time. "I'm surprised," he says, and keeps his tone controlled, keeps it deliberately light, "you let him leave your sight."