oneman_onevote | (no subject)

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night court au

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Ariette, Luca, and two guards have been despatched under detailed instructions to investigate Lord Grue de Agen's city home - which has the immediate drawback of Havelock and Brix being left with no immediate action to take themselves.

Havelock had resumed his lesson very briefly in calm, measured tones that left the apprentices frozen in silent uncertainty, until he dismissed them with a sadistic quantity of reading to do on top of their delayed presentations.

After that, Gentian seemed the logical place to return.

The place is still in something of a flurry, quiet though its members habitually are, and matters are not improved by a tall black-clad Mandrake stalking his way through the corridors with Brix nó Balm de Marsilikos beside him - surely she would have left by now, even as a concerned patron? - and stopping members of the House seemingly at random as they go.

It's only a matter of time before they find someone who remembers Matthieu's encounter with Grue de Agen.

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Claire gives a slow nod.

But she cannot hold Havelock's gaze for very long, and looks to Brix before she speaks again.

"I served recently at an assignation of Matthieu's. The gentleman was ... very beautiful, but very strange. He had Matthieu kneel and performed the bisous de doight, and later he bade him dismiss us from the room." She frowns. "Lierre and Meleze thought it was strange as well. He made us all nervous."

"Was Matthieu willing? Was he nervous as well?"

Oh, that had to have been Grue de Agen.

(Not least because Matthieu flinched when Havelock touched his mouth, and doesn't that burn?)

Havelock stays silent, but his face is thunderous.

"He agreed to everything," Claire says cautiously.

"But he seemed surprised. I don't ... think he enjoyed it."

Her heart pounds when she catches sight of Havelock's expression; she bites her lip again.

"It's just," more quickly, "when things are all right, you don't need to say they're all right, do you? They just are."

Brix shoots a glance towards Havelock, shakes her head slightly, and takes Claire's hand to lead the girl to a chair.

"Usually, yes," she agrees, sinking gracefully to kneel next to Claire. "It's strange to go out of one's way to say that things are all right when they really are -- is that what you mean?"

Havelock takes a breath.

"The main purpose of that," he says, soft, "Is more likely to convince oneself, than anyone else."

"Yes," Claire admits, "that is what I meant."

The cushions are soft; Gentian believes the pursuit of knowledge is a pleasure in itself.

Right now, she doesn't notice.

"He looked at us that way-- as if he were convincing himself. I think that's right."

"How far had things progressed by then, Claire? When he asked you to leave?"

"Not very," she says.

"They'd been talking, and then he drew Matthieu onto his lap. Lierre and Meleze had just finished their dance."

Havelock takes a moment to remind himself that this level of rage is entirely irrational and unhelpful to their current situation.

It doesn't work, mainly because it is not in the least irrational, knowing what he does.

"Do you know anything of what transpired thereafter?"

Claire shakes her head.

"None of us has heard. We didn't see him after, not until he went to see you, my lord."

And what Matthieu told Havelock - what little there was - was not reassuring.

"I see," he says, still quiet.

Brix nods.

"Do you remember anything else, my dear? Anything strange about the assignation, or about last night?"

She pauses a moment to concentrate.

"... Not about last night," she admits. "All Matthieu said was that he was going to see a patron and it should not take long. He thanked the guard for accompanying him."

Another pause.

This one is less easy.

"But there was somewhat at the assignation. At the start, when he asked him to kneel ... Matthieu's patron said something about how Matthieu had told him he might be better pleased at Valerian. He said that was wrong, that he wasn't a ..."

A quick glance to Havelock, then back to Brix.

"A brute with a flail," she concludes, quieter.

"But he kept reminding him to use a signale if he wished, as they do in Valerian House; he even said it aloud.

At the time ... I thought he spoke almost as if he were teasing him."

Havelock listens in silence, feeling suddenly cold.

It's not that he had supposed the man innocent of deliberate wrongdoing - he has kidnapped Matthieu, for the love of Elua - but to go on even once warned off, to make light of the need for a signale in such a way...

Such a way as to preempt Matthieu from using it.

Perhaps that was another reason why he did not go to Valerian. One trained there fully would not have been so easily manipulated.

"No doubt," he says.

"Your impressions are accurate."

"Havelock," Brix warns. She does not want anyone to have the faintest impression that she has told -- even implied -- to any that she thinks Jonathan is the culprit. Casting aspersions on his behavior with Matthieu here, in this House, seems incautious at best.

"Thank you for telling us, Claire."

"Yes," she murmurs, "of course."

In Claire's mind, the seed had already been planted. Of course, she doesn't know what to make of the juxtaposition; just because a patron is unwontedly cruel does not mean he is a kidnapper.

Are they going to make trouble for someone just because of what she's said? Claire can't imagine the mess that would arise if they sent Gentian's guardsmen-- the palace guard, even-- rummaging around through a lordling's home for evidence of a crime he never committed.

"Please be careful," she adds, voice dropping softer.

"If you put yourselves in Naamah's hands, I'm sure it'll turn out all right."

(But Claire is just old enough now that she's not sure. Not entirely.)

"We'll not act on a mere suspicion, child," Havelock tells her.

Accurately enough.

They have far more than suspicion.

"But it is better than we know. You were right to speak."

"Yes."

Brix takes one of Claire's hands in both her own.

"Claire, tell your Dowayne what you told us about last night. But please -- if you value Matthieu's life -- tell no one that you spoke to us of this. Do you understand? If anyone asks, say we all spoke as friends of Matthieu's. Pain shared is pain lessened, after all."

Claire's eyes widen.

If she values his life?

(Well, the guard did vanish, didn't he? And no one thinks they've run off together, or not seriously they don't.)

Oh, Naamah. Oh Elua--

"Yes," she says.

A slow nod.

"All right. Only as friends."

"Good," says Havelock, and finally looks away.

"It is true enough, after all."

Would that they could be certain they will have him back safe by tomorrow, and promise that to Claire now.

All they can do is their best.

Or their worst - depending on the circumstance.

Nodding in turn, Brix stands up and leans down to kiss Claire's hair.

"Good girl. Don't be afraid, my dear." She smiles faintly as she straightens. "We're in Naamah's hands."

Now, if only she can take her own advice.

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