the grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break

[jackrackham]

Jack gets ready slowly. He's still not entirely used to this new place, still hasn't made it feel like a place that he belongs. Waking without Anne feels wrong and he doesn't want to think over anything that she told him out on that boat.

He takes a shower, puts on his old clothes and looks in the mirror. Eliot seemed to think that they might be suitable for horse-riding outside the city, but at the moment he only sees how incongruous they seem compared to this modern room in a modern city. He takes a deep breath and lets it out as he settles his hat on his head, telling himself that the clothes won't matter, and he will attempt to be amiable, for Eliot's sake. He doesn't quite understand why riding horses is an activity all on it's own, but it will be a diversion all the same.

When he arrives at Villa Cordova, he wanders up through the entrance without going to the main building. It's dry and warm, and smells of dirt and hay and animals in a way that feels familiar. For a moment, he pauses and rests his forearms against a rough wooden fence. There are horses to watch, but he closes his eyes instead, listening to the relative silence of this place and feeling the sun begin to warm through the back of his coat.

Comments

[eliotwaugh]

It’s a nice day, which doesn’t do anything to help Eliot’s nerves. He turns the thought over in his mind, though, in a conscious effort at being normal, at willing himself to be normal about this. It’s the most sensible thing he can do, given the situation. It’s a nice day. It’s nice.

It’s clear now that his feelings can’t be ignored, or willed away, or carefully compartmentalized under safer labels, and so the only thing left to do is confront the damned issue and deal with the consequences. He hopes the location will help in some way. It’s a neutral activity, not something they’ve talked about before; if it all goes horribly then there’s nothing to be tainted by negative associations.

The clothes help, by some miracle. He used to be a leader, an inspiring one, even. The doublet might be too warm for the weather but it’s a reminder and a grounding weight, matching the chain of gold and rubies on his collarbone. It’s a bit much, perhaps, but he did say he wanted to be a little fancy. It gives Eliot some measure of confidence as he approaches the property, and if the effect is less effortless than usual, he hopes Jack won’t notice. The crown, at least, he left at home.

Eliot finds him leaning on a fence by the pasture, and feels lighter at the sight of him. He takes a moment just to look at Jack, all gangly and charming, his hands uncharacteristically still. Being in love is a miserable burden, Eliot thinks, but maybe this won’t be a complete disaster. He has to hope.

He sighs, and lifts his sunglasses as he walks up. “Hey,” he says, smiling, “hope I haven’t kept you waiting long?”