2020-12-29: Returns

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The smooth gray stone of the walls in this room reflect sound very well. Oh, there are lovely tapestries and a few shelves of wood with books on them, and those do some to absorb noise, but the overall effect is to make it very reasonable to hear someone coming down the hall. This is part of why Eleanor Klein chose this particular sitting-room, after all, and it has thus far not disappointed. She's heard guards and servants coming and going, the latter more quietly. She has of course heard the ticking of the clock. But not the particular sounds she is waiting for. Not yet.

The young elf sits in a plush green chair beside a small wooden table and another, identical chair nearby. There is a teapot on the table, and she has a cup in her hands just at the moment. She declined, last time someone came in to freshen up the pot; the cold tea is fine enough for the moment, because she's thinking anyway. She wears a lovely dress in gold, with long sleeves and a long skirt, as well as a bit of nice threadwork on the bodice. Her legs are crossed, and she's wearing heels. She also wears a bit of jewelry--most notable of which is the golden, diamond-topped engagement ring on her left hand, a little weight she's been used to for a very long time. It catches some of the firelight now and then, from the fireplace not so far away. ...But then, so does the shine on her shoe.

Eleanor assumes that by this time of the evening, her friends in ARMS have already gotten out a few of the boardgames Kamui had suggested they play. Maybe Xiumei is taking a turn right now, even. That thought makes her a little gloomy, considering that she bowed out of attending. For her part she had tea with her sister Danielle, who stepped away a few minutes ago and should be back any minute. Eleanor is thus waiting for this; she should probably fetch a book or something instead of brooding, but she doesn't. She waits. She waits for her sister, and she waits for someone else.

The sound of flat shoes on the stone floor is audible, then, and Eleanor straightens, not for the first time thinking it might be him. But in this case, the steps continue growing louder, and as the sorceress looks towards the door, she hears a knocking on it in short order.

"Eleanor?" a masculine voice inquires, and Eleanor recognizes the voice. "I'm here," she says with her voice lifted to travel through the door, "Just a moment." Click click go her own heels as she steps off the rug towards the door, and opens it.

Through the door is an elf a little older than she is, with black hair long enough that it partially covers his pointed ears. He has green eyes that settle immediately on Eleanor, and a refined sort of look to him with his dark suit and silk cravat. He also happens to wear a smile that spreads as he looks her over, seeing her reasonably healthy and well.

"Hello, Eleanor," her fiance greets her. "I've missed you."

"...Really?" she finds herself asking, and regrets it. "Ah, that is--please," she steps up to kiss him on the cheek and then steps further into the room before she can say something else terrible.

"Is it so surprising?" he asks.

"No, no," Eleanor answers. "I just usually have to press you a little more for what you're feeling."

"That's fair," he admits. "But you're not usually gone for months after a mission."

"Fair point. The tea's cold, but I'm sure someone will be by to check on me shortly and freshen it up."

"That's fine." Closing the door, Montgomery Curie steps towards the chair, as Eleanor herself has stepped back to her own. They both sit down, and he shakes his head as they do. "I'm not terribly thirsty anyway. I'm more concerned with you. How have you been? You seem... stressed."

It's not the first time she's seen him concerned for her, naturally. But she sees it now, and she feels a little guilty still for her surprise. Eleanor puts on a small smile anyway. "Busy," she admits. "I told you of the other world before, and we were there in Spira again. Their war is still ongoing, but our allies there helped us to find a way to our own home. Or close enough to, at least. And now here I am."

"Here you are." As usual, she can't really read him well, but she can hear the concern in his voice anyway.

"I'm sorry to have worried you. If I'd been able to send a message..." She trails off unhappily.

"There's no need to apologize," Montgomery answers. "I came to welcome you back, not to scold you." He smiles a little; it's a joke.

"...All right," Eleanor answers. "So! I have a lot of catching up to do, don't I? How was Guild Galad?"

"Busy as ever. But you don't have to catch up all at once. I've prepared some notes for you, about the things that have happened while you're gone. And I'll give them to you later." He looks her over again. "First, I'd prefer to hear what's on your mind."

Eleanor hesitates, this time. "Monty, I..." She starts, and then thinks about what happened earlier today. Xiumei had told her that she thought she'd be happy. Shouldn't she be? Eleanor thinks about it, and he's patient enough to wait until she speaks; he has to wait a long few moments. "...To be honest?" she says. "I'm a little nervous about the wedding. Have you heard the news?"

"...Ah," he answers. "I have. This summer. It's why I came here to meet you."

"I see." Eleanor says that, and then hears it sit on the air for a moment, as graceful as a falling turtle to her mind. She opens her mouth again and then closes it. Again. She thinks of ways she could answer, things she could try to bring up. She considers honesty. She disappears into her thoughts, and only comes back to the world around her when she hears him say:

"Eleanor. Are you with me?" The taller elf leans closer as if a couple of inches less distance will make whatever Eleanor is thinking clear, concerned.

"Oh--Y-yes, I'm sorry. I just... I got to thinking. I--" She thinks of Xiumei telling her she thought she'd be happy. She thinks of that, and it burns, but as she shakes her head to dispel the memory, closing her eyes, it burns something away, too. Suddenly she says, "...I said I was surprised, when you said that you missed me."

"I remember," he says, stoic as ever. It almost drives Eleanor mad.

"I wasn't surprised that you /missed/ me," she says. "I was surprised that you /said/ that you missed me. That you told me how you were feeling."

He blinks; she actually catches him off-guard, to look at him, and she takes something between relief and satisfaction in that. But it's a tender feeling she's treading on in herself, so her voice comes out soft, "I can never tell how you're feeling. You didn't tell me you were hurt, when I said that. You just asked if it was surprising. You ask me questions instead of telling me how you feel." She reaches out, towards one of his hands. "Monty..."

"...That..." Montgomery seems to grapple with the idea for a long set of moments. But he reaches out and takes Eleanor's hand, as she offers it, gripping it gently. "...Is true," he says, and she thinks she almost hears a feeling in it. Then she realizes what he said. She looks up to his green eyes, questioning.

"I understand the distinction," he says after a moment.

"...And?" Eleanor prompts impatiently.

Montgomery looks at Eleanor in silence for a while, but she hears the clicking of the clock; it's still going. She isn't sure how many clicks it is before he speaks up, "You already have so much to deal with, Eleanor. I don't want to add to your burden."

"But don't you see?" Eleanor says. "That's what I want!"

"...You... want me to add to your burden?"

"I want to know how the people in my life feel," she says. "I want..." She knows where she stands with the other person who bubbles to mind, and Eleanor shakes her head to dispel the image of a different set of green eyes. "...I want a lot of things," she admits then, and focuses on him again, where she'd looked away. Her issue with /him/. "I want to think I have more than just the one way to get any emotion out of you."

He looks thoughtful, watching her. She can tell that much. But she still can't tell what those thoughts are.

"...I'm tired," she says after a little while, shaking her head. "I'm sorry I've been saying such strange things today. Please, forget all about it."

"Eleanor," he starts. "Wait."

"No, really--" Eleanor starts.

"I would like to tell you something," he insists.

Eleanor pauses, looking deflated, and waits, as she's asked.

"I..." He starts, "Am very stiff. The ride to the castle was uncomfortable."

Eleanor stops. She stares, a moment. And then she starts laughing. It's genuine, if complicated; she laughs and laughs until he actually joins in, and she doesn't know how long it's been since she heard that. It's nice.

"I'm sorry. I guess I could stand to relax a little," he admits. "The truth is that..." He looks at her, and particularly looks at her eyes. He brings her hand up between them, and places his other hand atop hers, so he's holding it in both. "The truth is that for a long time, I've been worried about you. I remember when you came back with your eyes a new color. They used to be brown. And you seemed so... troubled, when you came back from that period at the Academy. You said that there was an accident, but you slept so fitfully after that."

"...Oh," Eleanor says, and feels some remembered guilt in addition to the new guilt, exhaustion emotional and physical starting to catch up with her. But then she thinks about what he's said, and it does tell her something. "...You... noticed," she says, and sighs. "Of course you noticed. It's been that long? That's when I..." She stops again. "I'm sorry, too. I suppose I've shut you out, too. I'll tell you about what happened. But not tonight, okay?" It's nice--to hear about what he's feeling--but being open in turn is hard.

"...That's fine, as long as we have a little more time. Do we, this time?" He asks the question seriously, his green eyes once again seeking out hers. She can see, she thinks, some more feeling in his expression now--just a little in the lines of his face, in a softness of his gaze.

She decides, "Yes. I can stay for a while. And maybe... when I have to go, I can... come back."

"I would like that," Montgomery says. "...For now, you said you were tired, and I've kept you up long enough." He actually smiles.

Remembering suddenly, Eleanor says, "Oh, but Danielle..." She looks towards the door.

"I saw her on my way in. She put a finger to her lips and gestured a lot before leaving." He explains this entirely naturally, as if it's just her way. Which it is.

"Oh." Pause. "...Well, all right then. She probably wanted to give us some space. You..." She trails off, but only for a moment before she rests her hand atop his, and smiles. "You can keep me up a /little/ longer. Tell me more about your trip here. I want to know."

She starts to stand back up as she does. Admittedly, she forgot the tea. There are things she doesn't know how or if to say.

But, as they head to the door, he starts talking. And, putting her hand in his, Eleanor feels a little better.

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