simplestgift | Eleven Bells: [Action/Written] Oddly Introverted Today

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Eleven Bells: [Action/Written] Oddly Introverted Today

[Tonight, Archie is out in the woods, walking along the river instead of the path toward the southern lake. Something about being away from the village, in the solitude of the woods, with the sky going on for miles above him, is closer than anything else to the openness of the sea. The strange thing is that Archie was never too poetic about the sea itself--it was the ships he loved, not the water they sailed on. But now that the sea is far away and there is no ship to sail upon it, he finds himself very homesick for that endless expanse. So he walks by moonlight, gathering his thoughts and finding as much tranquility as he can in the woods.

When he returns home through the village, it will be past midnight. He'll stare at the furnished, unlived-in bedroom in his apartment, set up for someone who never comes. In the morning, he'll wake up on the couch, beneath the mural of the Indefatigable. Eventually, he'll write an unsigned message on the journal network.]

When the wind embraces all the world between the sky and sea,
It speaks in my ear of the left-behind, dear friend, it speaks of thee.
I wish you a journey far and long and spirits high and free,
And hope that the wind still speaks to you, dear friend, and speaks of me.

[A few minutes later, he'll scribble the whole thing out.

In the morning, anyone will be able to find him about, grocery shopping mostly, but also just browsing the shelves idly. He'll hit Good Spirits a little earlier than usual and drink a little more than normal.]

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When I came back from -- [ she pauses, takes on his word: ] exile? I couldn't tell them where I'd been.

While I couldn't hide it.

Perhaps the details are different, but they'll find some way of understanding. That is all I am saying.

They have. Years ago. Just -- that's what makes it harder to do it again.

It doesn't get easier each time. But you know it can be done. You can't always think of the end result, though. You have to think instead of the next step, in front of you. What's for dinner, and who you'd like to share it with.

Today? I know the answer to one of those questions. That's a good start.

[ and it leaves her feeling a little more peaceful. ]

It's an excellent start.

And now? It's just a case of making sure the who wants to have supper with me, too.

[ because all jack's doing is swimming back and forth between the shore and his boat. sometimes, buffy might as well not be out here. ]

I'm sure he will. [It doesn't take a lot to guess who she's talking about.]

I never said the who was a he.

[ ...which makes her suspicious once more. ]

Lucky guess.

[ and because it's private, now: ] Look -- do you know who I am? [ since the who are you version didn't go down so well. ]

[He would like it if she didn't know his identity, but he doesn't want to scare her.]

I've a very good guess. If I'm right, there aren't many in the village who don't know you.

Things I've written -- whoever you are? You've gotta keep them to yourself.

I'll never tell anyone. You have some secrets of mine, as well.

The difference is that you don't have an identity to pin them to.

Would it make you feel better if you had the power to blackmail me?

No -- it would make me feel better if I could trust you.

You can.

[There's a pause.]

I wasn't exiled. I was a prisoner of war. I know I mentioned that to you once.

Oh.

[ that's unexpected. buffy has to think on it for a moment: ] I should have known. I knew you did the poetry thing. She told me you wrote her one.

I attempted one, she should say. I don't make a habit of it.

Well? She seemed pretty happy with your attempt.

Did she?

She did.

[Have a pause while Archie tries to sort this out in his brain. He knows it couldn't be the poetry that impressed, but his attempt.]

It's good to know I didn't make a complete fool of myself.

She's a nineteen year old girl. Of course she's going to go ga-ga over love poems.

[ she means this in actually the most affectionate way she can. buffy treasures any sign of banal normality in her sister. ]

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