[au] Because there needed to be snuggles
It’s a calm sort of night.
They don’t get particularly many in the Castle Spades. There’s usually some disaster to be looking after, some fire to put out or pair to bodies to pull apart long enough to clean up some of the blood. It’s particularly trying for the Face Cards, of course; things have a way of getting back up the chain, millions of spider silks to keep track of and smooth back down into stillness. The Jack, the Queen, the King, the Ace all share in the responsibility, of course, but that makes it no less exhausting, overwhelming--nearly impossible to get a calm sort of night out of, really
Chives, of course, Appreciates that. He’s hardly so Important as the Face Cards are, but some small part of him knows that he’s no less Integral to keeping the Suit running smoothly. His fires tend to be more literal; his tendrils throughout the Castle tend to gravitate toward who needs to be brought dinner and who should be reminded to head to bed. But that’s the Magic that keeps the Face Cards in a place where they can smooth their hands over the spread of Spades and make things Right again. Chives loves being even the slightest part of that.
So he’s entirely pleased it’s a calm sort of night when he taps at the Ace’s office door with a last pot of tea. It’s later than it should be--he should be shooing Julien off to get some rest. But the world’s so... Calm. Best let the Ace enjoy as much of it as he can, despite the fact that even Chives himself is beginning to let his thoughts flicker now and then toward bed.
“Tea, milord.”
____
Quiet nights weren’t exactly unwelcome...it was just that Julien didn’t particularly trust them. Not when it felt necessary to wait for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. But at least it meant he got more actual work done at his desk, even it also encouraged him to stay at his desk far past the time when he’d normally give in and go to his bed for some hours of sleep.
So engrossed is he in the work -- writing taking so much more concentration than other parts of his job -- that it’s a moment before Julien properly processes what Chives says and looks up at the Butler to nod him in. “Just when it had gotten empty, too,” he said, tone approving, if not actually warm.
Warmth was a thing rather difficult to get out of the Ace, after all.
“Good evening, Chives.” Don’t tell him what time it is.
--
Waiting on paperwork isn’t a Hardship. Besides, it’s not particularly long before the Ace is nodding him in with a lovely sort of Approbation for his efforts, and that? That would be Worth a much longer wait to receive.
“Good evening, Master Julien.” No time is lost sweeping in to replace the pot, pour out a fresh cup, set it rather expectantly close to the older man’s elbow. There won’t be any mention of the hour or requests that the Ace conclude for the evening, but there Will Be Insistence on a cup of tea before the butler leaves. “I trust the night finds you well, milord?”
Just to fill the air slightly on this calm, lovely night--a few minutes seeing his Ace in a more restive place behind his desk than usual.
___
“Well enough,” he said, accepting the tea and taking a sip. “Making the rounds, are we?”
Though perhaps, if Chives is nearly done for the night, well...Julien won’t actually ask him to stay so much as imply he didn’t have to rush out. And that comes in the way the Ace leans back in his chair, pushing the paperwork away, the way his gaze meets the Butler’s over the rim of his cup, and the way he is focusing more on Chives for the moment than he was on his work of moments before.
Of course, he knows well what pleases the younger man, and seeing one of his Face cards taking a moment to Relax and actually taste their tea likely ranks high on the scale.
--
It’s a truly Lovely moment. The Number of things simply Coming Together--his Ace productive, his Ace calm and quiet, his Ace taking a Moment to Relax, his Ace having his tea Thoughtfully, his Ace giving him considering Attention--is astounding. It brings something warm into him, perks his shoulders just a little straighter even as his head cracks toward one of those habitual painfully broken Angles he’s so fond of holding himself at.
All in all, a Very Contented Butler, fingers fairly relaxed under the tray.
“Just coming to the end, milord; if there’s anything else you require?”
___
“No more tea, certainly,” or he’d likely float away. “Perhaps you’d have a cup?” Help him finish the pot. It wasn’t an order couched as an invitation but still...Julien didn’t tend to suggest things unless he actually meant them.
Though it was unfortunate, maybe, that he’d never bothered to put a second chair in his office. Then again, he usually liked making people stand when they came to see him. Particularly if they were recalcitrant Numbers. Not that Chives had ever been one of those guests in his office.
--
For a second, everything is Still but the sharp, precise Click of the butler’s head just a little further to the side, pushing the parallel with his shoulder. It takes Analysis. It takes Precise Unpacking to tell where the intentionality in Julien’s words lies.
And then, a second later, his head snaps back up to rights. “If it should please you, milord.”
Because really, he’d never deny his Face Cards anything. And, more than that, he’d never say no to the chance to hover a little longer at the side of one of the Spades he loved best.
___
Julien nodded and pushed the teapot toward Chives. “Thank you, Chives.”
Because it does. Particularly when Chives may actually be the only Spade Julien trusts with any full seriousness.
--
It’s a touch odd to be pouring himself a cup of tea outside of the Kitchen, but the reflex kicks in quickly enough. The spare cup on the service is in his gloved hands almost instantly and fairly unconsciously, set and poured even as he shakes his head to murmur a response.
“Hardly a trouble, sir.” Much less so than literally any of the other requests that were made of him any given day. ‘Stand here a while and have a cup of tea’ hardly felt like a Demand on himself at all so much as a very indulgent Allowance on Julien’s part.
There’s not quite a smile on the butler’s lips, but there’s certainly something peacefully Pleased glowing beneath the habitual Professional mask.
____
Chives’ consistent Professionalism is a lot of why Julien approves of him so much. It’s easy for him with the butler. That they both know where they stand with each other and, well, Chives dislikes Mess even more than Julien does.
“And your day has gone well, I hope?”
Though that might really be asking if the Numbers under Chives’ supervision were doing their duties properly or if the Ace needed to pay them a visit.
--
There exist, perhaps, three other people in the world at present who dislike Messes with the intensity Chives does. None of them are Spades. Funny how life works, in fact, that the butlers are evenly distributed among the Deck. Clearly a sign of the Universe being Ordered.
The underlying question gets the briefest appreciative duck of his head. It’s genuinely Wonderful that the Face Cards take such an interest in making his life run smoothly--and a Relief that they seem to understand the butler’s life running smoothly means smooth sailing for Everyone.
“Quite well, milord.” There’s a slight pause as he takes the briefest sip at his own cup. He’ll trust Julien not to tell the others that he does, in fact, drink and eat like a normal human being. “And yours, sir, will be over soon, I hope?”
____
Of course the butler's life running smoothly means smooth sailing for everyone...it's rather a fundamental fact of life in the Castles. And it's one it didn't take Julien long to learn when he was just a wee Number...even if that was before Chives' time as head butler.
He tilts his head at the question and then waves at the paperwork on the desk in front of him. "As soon as I finish this." He won't have it said he's incapable of keeping up, even when David bestows a stack of paper on him. And he certainly has no interest in procuring an assistant, even if it did mean some nights he got almost no sleep.
--
It’s not that there isn’t some level of Hypocrisy in the fact that Chives is constantly shooing his Spades to bed. Really, there’s no accounting for how he survives as many bouts of not sleeping for 72 hours without being in a constant state of organ failure or hitting a comatose non-existence to reboot. Perhaps it’s the difference between the Quality of Life he expects for himself and for his Suit.
Whatever the logic, there’s barely a missed beat as he glances calmly over the pages laid out on the Ace’s desk. “...I imagine there’s no putting things off to be done in the morning, sir?”
____
"Putting them off until the morning just gives me that much more I have to do tomorrow, don't you agree?" And really, he wasn't particularly allowing for any wiggle room there for Chives to disagree. The butler, after all, was not known for ever putting off what could be done today. So to speak.
"It won't be that much longer," and you have no room to talk. But really...a couple hours at most. And then a wry tilt to his lips, "were you planning on making sure I don't stay one second longer than I have to?"
--
The deferential bowing of his head is automatic beyond the point of consciousness. “As you say, milord.”
Chives’ head stays down for the rest of the Ace’s words (spoken and Unspoken; and really, he knows he has less room to talk than most in this Castle). The question, however, has him uncurling to his full proper Posture again. “I should very much like to at least see you gotten to your own chambers for the night, Master Julien.”
____
He looks at Chives for a long moment, expression speculative. "If you insist."
And he'll start gathering up his papers and stuffing them in a folder before standing up to meet the butler eye to eye. "I suppose I'll have to let you escort me back to my chambers then, won't I?"
Where he'll still continue to work the night away, of course.
--
Well. That was Surprisingly Effective, given the initial Master Plan had been to stand here until he was asleep on his feet waiting for the Ace to finish up. It’s much Nicer to simply spring into action and begin pulling the tea together again onto his tray.
Because the tea is coming too, of course.
“It would be most kind of you, milord.”
___
Perhaps if it had been earlier Julien would have been more stubborn about it. But he, too, was feeling the lateness of the hour, even if he wasn't gonig to say so. And really, it wasn't giving in if he was actually still doing work, was it? No, not hardly.
So he nods, once, and moves to the door with his files in hand and leads the way back to his rooms -- after locking the office, of course. And naturally, once they get there, Chives is going to have to come in and re-set up the tea service. Probably on the nightstand beside the bed or the dresser nearby because Julien had never bothered to get much more in the way of furniture than that he actually needed.
--
Naturally. Thankfully, the butler has never been an entirely obtrusive presence in any room, but particularly the personal quarters. Julien can go about life As Per Usual while Chives gets the service settled in lovingly on the nightstand.
And then, just like that, he’ll pop up again with the Ace’s refreshed cup.
____
In this case, life as peer usual is just going to entail slipping off his suit coat and returning it to the closet, unbuttoning a few of the top buttons on his shirt, slipping off his shoes, and sitting down on the bed, leaning against the headboard, with papers arrayed in front of him for inspection.
And then there's tea, and he'll have to accept the cup with an amused glance. "What would you do without tea, Chives?"
--
It’s late enough in the evening that the question pulls--however briefly--a genuine flash of horror over the butler’s usually placid expression. Without tea? What would he do without tea to serve, to whisk about the Castle, to drink by himself in the kitchen?
What an infinitely terrible world that would be.
Still, he’ll give it the best consideration he can as he returns to fussing the service back into Proper Angles. “...I expect I’d spend a good deal more time with the polishing, milord.”
____
"Not coffee, then?" Not that he wants coffee. He rarely does. Tea suffices. And if he's further amused at Chives' momentary expression of horror, he has the grace not to show it. Much.
He will wave, however, at the open space on the bed by the nightstand. "Sit down a few moments, Chives. It's a long walk back to your quarters." It wasn't, per se, that he was being nice. It was more that, well. It was interesting seeing what caused the butler to be flustered. Not to mention that he had simply proven himself to actually be deserving of niceties. So few were.
--
The bristling at the Very Suggestion that Coffee could begin to Replace Tea is slight, likely visible only because of the exhaustion at the corners of his mind. It’s likely fortunate that the next request cuts off what might have been the beginning of an entirely long and displeased Explanation of the distinct differences between the two beverages and exposition on the Vast Superiority of Tea.
Because looking briefly like a fly caught in a web is much better than looking cranky.
“...so please you, sir.” It takes a beat to actually set himself on the edge of the bed, spine still ramrod straight, but he does his level best.
___
Everything, Julien noticed, was if it pleased him. At least when it came to making requests of Chives. It's pointless, he's sure, to actually tell the butler to relax but he can at least smile slightly to himself and turn his attention down to the papers he's brought with him.
And after a moment, he'll add, "I didn't mean it about the coffee."
--
Chives is good at many things; Relaxing, however, is not one of them. That’s what comes of the blessing and curse the Deck’s butlers all seemed to have--when the most genuine pleasure in a person’s life was Performing One’s Duties, how to convince the rest of the world that you’d really much rather finish sorting silverware than sit idle?
Although, really, just now... everything’s Done for the day, save seeing the Ace to sleep. It’s no hardship to simply Sit and watch the older man’s face in anticipation, looking for the little flits and ticks that sometimes drift across a person’s face to betray Need (Need of Tea being, typically, at the corners of the lips).
And then comes the light, easy statement, and his shoulders actually do Relax a hair as his chin lifts in silent approval. So good to him, his Ace.
Now comes the question of how long he can sit idle and relaxed (to the extent he ever is) before that exhaustion creeps further.
___
The Ace, certainly, has no intention of falling asleep with Chives sitting there. He trusts the man, it's true, as much as he trusts anyone. And yet that...might be a bridge too far. That's deliberately making himself vulnerable and it just isn't something he would willingly bring himself to do.
But wait Chives out... he can do that, even as he's quite leisurely doing hsi reading, shuffling papers around and not, quite, humming to himself but...there is a certain sort of Contented quality of tone to his breathing, perhaps.
Particularly once he finishes the last sip of tea and sets the cup down carefully on the tray. Company, here in his room, isn't actually a thing he's particularly used to. But...it's actually rather pleasant. Though he'd never speak those words aloud.
--
Waiting Chives out might even be entirely easy, if the slight slow droop of his shoulders is any indication. With the warm quiet of being near a peaceful Face Card happy enough at his work, almost humming with the Calm of the evening...
The chink of the teacup returned to the tray is such a small sound, but it jerks Chives’ spine back into straightness, his eyes entirely into alertness--perhaps just a touch of panic.
“--more, sir?”
Of course that’s the first thing that occurs to him when he wakes up.
_____
Julien looked up at him, shook his head slightly, his expression wry. “No, Chives, I think I’ve had plenty of tea.” But, you know, it was good of him to ensure Julien didn’t go without.
And no, Chives, he hasn’t actually dismissed you, yet.
But it was interesting to see how he’d jerked back into more or less alertness at the small sound of the teacup on the tray. How long would it take for his shoulders to start slumping again, Julien wondered.
--
“Very good, sir.”
It takes a moment to filter in that the tone wasn’t a dismissal. The knowledge keeps Chives frozen slightly, calculating, running Probabilities. From others, it would be much more easily Explicable why he was being asked to stay. From Julien? It was difficult to say with certainty.
That Question keeps him fairly attentive, eyes flicking over the older man’s face, for a good chunk of time. But holding himself at attention without forethought--this was going to be a night he’d planned for himself to Actually Sleep--is more exhausting than the usual late night service.
His eyes, however glassy, stay open, but the slight slumping of his shoulders returns in less than half an hour.
_____
Still reading, Julien will finally reach out and firmly tug Chives’ sleeve to direct him toward laying down. At this point, the butler would likely keel over on his way back to his quarters and while Julien would happily subject a Lesser Card to such ignominy...well, it’s been established that Chives is not a Lesser Card.
Not hardly.
Don’t thank him for it, Chives, he’s not doing anything besides work, after all.
--
That has him snapping entirely awake, entirely stiff and confused, before he realizes where he is, whose fingers are on his sleeve, and what’s being asked of him. Then, of course, there will still be the briefest hesitation before he shifts, carefully, to curl down into the bed.
It’s slightly difficult to take up a tiny enough space not to interfere with the paperwork or invade the Ace’s personal space. He’ll do his best, though.
At least until he actually slips into sleep. Then heat-seeking might prompt a slight curling closer.
____
Chives isn’t the only one who slips into sleep. Eventually, even Julien leans more against the bed’s headboard, paper slipping out of the fingers of one hand, but the other finding its way to slipping into the butler’s hair, resting against his head as the Ace succumbs to unconsciousness.
It is, perhaps, far more comfortable than it ought to be. But if he’s asleep, he doesn’t have to think about that.
He doesn’t have to act.
They don’t get particularly many in the Castle Spades. There’s usually some disaster to be looking after, some fire to put out or pair to bodies to pull apart long enough to clean up some of the blood. It’s particularly trying for the Face Cards, of course; things have a way of getting back up the chain, millions of spider silks to keep track of and smooth back down into stillness. The Jack, the Queen, the King, the Ace all share in the responsibility, of course, but that makes it no less exhausting, overwhelming--nearly impossible to get a calm sort of night out of, really
Chives, of course, Appreciates that. He’s hardly so Important as the Face Cards are, but some small part of him knows that he’s no less Integral to keeping the Suit running smoothly. His fires tend to be more literal; his tendrils throughout the Castle tend to gravitate toward who needs to be brought dinner and who should be reminded to head to bed. But that’s the Magic that keeps the Face Cards in a place where they can smooth their hands over the spread of Spades and make things Right again. Chives loves being even the slightest part of that.
So he’s entirely pleased it’s a calm sort of night when he taps at the Ace’s office door with a last pot of tea. It’s later than it should be--he should be shooing Julien off to get some rest. But the world’s so... Calm. Best let the Ace enjoy as much of it as he can, despite the fact that even Chives himself is beginning to let his thoughts flicker now and then toward bed.
“Tea, milord.”
____
Quiet nights weren’t exactly unwelcome...it was just that Julien didn’t particularly trust them. Not when it felt necessary to wait for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. But at least it meant he got more actual work done at his desk, even it also encouraged him to stay at his desk far past the time when he’d normally give in and go to his bed for some hours of sleep.
So engrossed is he in the work -- writing taking so much more concentration than other parts of his job -- that it’s a moment before Julien properly processes what Chives says and looks up at the Butler to nod him in. “Just when it had gotten empty, too,” he said, tone approving, if not actually warm.
Warmth was a thing rather difficult to get out of the Ace, after all.
“Good evening, Chives.” Don’t tell him what time it is.
--
Waiting on paperwork isn’t a Hardship. Besides, it’s not particularly long before the Ace is nodding him in with a lovely sort of Approbation for his efforts, and that? That would be Worth a much longer wait to receive.
“Good evening, Master Julien.” No time is lost sweeping in to replace the pot, pour out a fresh cup, set it rather expectantly close to the older man’s elbow. There won’t be any mention of the hour or requests that the Ace conclude for the evening, but there Will Be Insistence on a cup of tea before the butler leaves. “I trust the night finds you well, milord?”
Just to fill the air slightly on this calm, lovely night--a few minutes seeing his Ace in a more restive place behind his desk than usual.
___
“Well enough,” he said, accepting the tea and taking a sip. “Making the rounds, are we?”
Though perhaps, if Chives is nearly done for the night, well...Julien won’t actually ask him to stay so much as imply he didn’t have to rush out. And that comes in the way the Ace leans back in his chair, pushing the paperwork away, the way his gaze meets the Butler’s over the rim of his cup, and the way he is focusing more on Chives for the moment than he was on his work of moments before.
Of course, he knows well what pleases the younger man, and seeing one of his Face cards taking a moment to Relax and actually taste their tea likely ranks high on the scale.
--
It’s a truly Lovely moment. The Number of things simply Coming Together--his Ace productive, his Ace calm and quiet, his Ace taking a Moment to Relax, his Ace having his tea Thoughtfully, his Ace giving him considering Attention--is astounding. It brings something warm into him, perks his shoulders just a little straighter even as his head cracks toward one of those habitual painfully broken Angles he’s so fond of holding himself at.
All in all, a Very Contented Butler, fingers fairly relaxed under the tray.
“Just coming to the end, milord; if there’s anything else you require?”
___
“No more tea, certainly,” or he’d likely float away. “Perhaps you’d have a cup?” Help him finish the pot. It wasn’t an order couched as an invitation but still...Julien didn’t tend to suggest things unless he actually meant them.
Though it was unfortunate, maybe, that he’d never bothered to put a second chair in his office. Then again, he usually liked making people stand when they came to see him. Particularly if they were recalcitrant Numbers. Not that Chives had ever been one of those guests in his office.
--
For a second, everything is Still but the sharp, precise Click of the butler’s head just a little further to the side, pushing the parallel with his shoulder. It takes Analysis. It takes Precise Unpacking to tell where the intentionality in Julien’s words lies.
And then, a second later, his head snaps back up to rights. “If it should please you, milord.”
Because really, he’d never deny his Face Cards anything. And, more than that, he’d never say no to the chance to hover a little longer at the side of one of the Spades he loved best.
___
Julien nodded and pushed the teapot toward Chives. “Thank you, Chives.”
Because it does. Particularly when Chives may actually be the only Spade Julien trusts with any full seriousness.
--
It’s a touch odd to be pouring himself a cup of tea outside of the Kitchen, but the reflex kicks in quickly enough. The spare cup on the service is in his gloved hands almost instantly and fairly unconsciously, set and poured even as he shakes his head to murmur a response.
“Hardly a trouble, sir.” Much less so than literally any of the other requests that were made of him any given day. ‘Stand here a while and have a cup of tea’ hardly felt like a Demand on himself at all so much as a very indulgent Allowance on Julien’s part.
There’s not quite a smile on the butler’s lips, but there’s certainly something peacefully Pleased glowing beneath the habitual Professional mask.
____
Chives’ consistent Professionalism is a lot of why Julien approves of him so much. It’s easy for him with the butler. That they both know where they stand with each other and, well, Chives dislikes Mess even more than Julien does.
“And your day has gone well, I hope?”
Though that might really be asking if the Numbers under Chives’ supervision were doing their duties properly or if the Ace needed to pay them a visit.
--
There exist, perhaps, three other people in the world at present who dislike Messes with the intensity Chives does. None of them are Spades. Funny how life works, in fact, that the butlers are evenly distributed among the Deck. Clearly a sign of the Universe being Ordered.
The underlying question gets the briefest appreciative duck of his head. It’s genuinely Wonderful that the Face Cards take such an interest in making his life run smoothly--and a Relief that they seem to understand the butler’s life running smoothly means smooth sailing for Everyone.
“Quite well, milord.” There’s a slight pause as he takes the briefest sip at his own cup. He’ll trust Julien not to tell the others that he does, in fact, drink and eat like a normal human being. “And yours, sir, will be over soon, I hope?”
____
Of course the butler's life running smoothly means smooth sailing for everyone...it's rather a fundamental fact of life in the Castles. And it's one it didn't take Julien long to learn when he was just a wee Number...even if that was before Chives' time as head butler.
He tilts his head at the question and then waves at the paperwork on the desk in front of him. "As soon as I finish this." He won't have it said he's incapable of keeping up, even when David bestows a stack of paper on him. And he certainly has no interest in procuring an assistant, even if it did mean some nights he got almost no sleep.
--
It’s not that there isn’t some level of Hypocrisy in the fact that Chives is constantly shooing his Spades to bed. Really, there’s no accounting for how he survives as many bouts of not sleeping for 72 hours without being in a constant state of organ failure or hitting a comatose non-existence to reboot. Perhaps it’s the difference between the Quality of Life he expects for himself and for his Suit.
Whatever the logic, there’s barely a missed beat as he glances calmly over the pages laid out on the Ace’s desk. “...I imagine there’s no putting things off to be done in the morning, sir?”
____
"Putting them off until the morning just gives me that much more I have to do tomorrow, don't you agree?" And really, he wasn't particularly allowing for any wiggle room there for Chives to disagree. The butler, after all, was not known for ever putting off what could be done today. So to speak.
"It won't be that much longer," and you have no room to talk. But really...a couple hours at most. And then a wry tilt to his lips, "were you planning on making sure I don't stay one second longer than I have to?"
--
The deferential bowing of his head is automatic beyond the point of consciousness. “As you say, milord.”
Chives’ head stays down for the rest of the Ace’s words (spoken and Unspoken; and really, he knows he has less room to talk than most in this Castle). The question, however, has him uncurling to his full proper Posture again. “I should very much like to at least see you gotten to your own chambers for the night, Master Julien.”
____
He looks at Chives for a long moment, expression speculative. "If you insist."
And he'll start gathering up his papers and stuffing them in a folder before standing up to meet the butler eye to eye. "I suppose I'll have to let you escort me back to my chambers then, won't I?"
Where he'll still continue to work the night away, of course.
--
Well. That was Surprisingly Effective, given the initial Master Plan had been to stand here until he was asleep on his feet waiting for the Ace to finish up. It’s much Nicer to simply spring into action and begin pulling the tea together again onto his tray.
Because the tea is coming too, of course.
“It would be most kind of you, milord.”
___
Perhaps if it had been earlier Julien would have been more stubborn about it. But he, too, was feeling the lateness of the hour, even if he wasn't gonig to say so. And really, it wasn't giving in if he was actually still doing work, was it? No, not hardly.
So he nods, once, and moves to the door with his files in hand and leads the way back to his rooms -- after locking the office, of course. And naturally, once they get there, Chives is going to have to come in and re-set up the tea service. Probably on the nightstand beside the bed or the dresser nearby because Julien had never bothered to get much more in the way of furniture than that he actually needed.
--
Naturally. Thankfully, the butler has never been an entirely obtrusive presence in any room, but particularly the personal quarters. Julien can go about life As Per Usual while Chives gets the service settled in lovingly on the nightstand.
And then, just like that, he’ll pop up again with the Ace’s refreshed cup.
____
In this case, life as peer usual is just going to entail slipping off his suit coat and returning it to the closet, unbuttoning a few of the top buttons on his shirt, slipping off his shoes, and sitting down on the bed, leaning against the headboard, with papers arrayed in front of him for inspection.
And then there's tea, and he'll have to accept the cup with an amused glance. "What would you do without tea, Chives?"
--
It’s late enough in the evening that the question pulls--however briefly--a genuine flash of horror over the butler’s usually placid expression. Without tea? What would he do without tea to serve, to whisk about the Castle, to drink by himself in the kitchen?
What an infinitely terrible world that would be.
Still, he’ll give it the best consideration he can as he returns to fussing the service back into Proper Angles. “...I expect I’d spend a good deal more time with the polishing, milord.”
____
"Not coffee, then?" Not that he wants coffee. He rarely does. Tea suffices. And if he's further amused at Chives' momentary expression of horror, he has the grace not to show it. Much.
He will wave, however, at the open space on the bed by the nightstand. "Sit down a few moments, Chives. It's a long walk back to your quarters." It wasn't, per se, that he was being nice. It was more that, well. It was interesting seeing what caused the butler to be flustered. Not to mention that he had simply proven himself to actually be deserving of niceties. So few were.
--
The bristling at the Very Suggestion that Coffee could begin to Replace Tea is slight, likely visible only because of the exhaustion at the corners of his mind. It’s likely fortunate that the next request cuts off what might have been the beginning of an entirely long and displeased Explanation of the distinct differences between the two beverages and exposition on the Vast Superiority of Tea.
Because looking briefly like a fly caught in a web is much better than looking cranky.
“...so please you, sir.” It takes a beat to actually set himself on the edge of the bed, spine still ramrod straight, but he does his level best.
___
Everything, Julien noticed, was if it pleased him. At least when it came to making requests of Chives. It's pointless, he's sure, to actually tell the butler to relax but he can at least smile slightly to himself and turn his attention down to the papers he's brought with him.
And after a moment, he'll add, "I didn't mean it about the coffee."
--
Chives is good at many things; Relaxing, however, is not one of them. That’s what comes of the blessing and curse the Deck’s butlers all seemed to have--when the most genuine pleasure in a person’s life was Performing One’s Duties, how to convince the rest of the world that you’d really much rather finish sorting silverware than sit idle?
Although, really, just now... everything’s Done for the day, save seeing the Ace to sleep. It’s no hardship to simply Sit and watch the older man’s face in anticipation, looking for the little flits and ticks that sometimes drift across a person’s face to betray Need (Need of Tea being, typically, at the corners of the lips).
And then comes the light, easy statement, and his shoulders actually do Relax a hair as his chin lifts in silent approval. So good to him, his Ace.
Now comes the question of how long he can sit idle and relaxed (to the extent he ever is) before that exhaustion creeps further.
___
The Ace, certainly, has no intention of falling asleep with Chives sitting there. He trusts the man, it's true, as much as he trusts anyone. And yet that...might be a bridge too far. That's deliberately making himself vulnerable and it just isn't something he would willingly bring himself to do.
But wait Chives out... he can do that, even as he's quite leisurely doing hsi reading, shuffling papers around and not, quite, humming to himself but...there is a certain sort of Contented quality of tone to his breathing, perhaps.
Particularly once he finishes the last sip of tea and sets the cup down carefully on the tray. Company, here in his room, isn't actually a thing he's particularly used to. But...it's actually rather pleasant. Though he'd never speak those words aloud.
--
Waiting Chives out might even be entirely easy, if the slight slow droop of his shoulders is any indication. With the warm quiet of being near a peaceful Face Card happy enough at his work, almost humming with the Calm of the evening...
The chink of the teacup returned to the tray is such a small sound, but it jerks Chives’ spine back into straightness, his eyes entirely into alertness--perhaps just a touch of panic.
“--more, sir?”
Of course that’s the first thing that occurs to him when he wakes up.
_____
Julien looked up at him, shook his head slightly, his expression wry. “No, Chives, I think I’ve had plenty of tea.” But, you know, it was good of him to ensure Julien didn’t go without.
And no, Chives, he hasn’t actually dismissed you, yet.
But it was interesting to see how he’d jerked back into more or less alertness at the small sound of the teacup on the tray. How long would it take for his shoulders to start slumping again, Julien wondered.
--
“Very good, sir.”
It takes a moment to filter in that the tone wasn’t a dismissal. The knowledge keeps Chives frozen slightly, calculating, running Probabilities. From others, it would be much more easily Explicable why he was being asked to stay. From Julien? It was difficult to say with certainty.
That Question keeps him fairly attentive, eyes flicking over the older man’s face, for a good chunk of time. But holding himself at attention without forethought--this was going to be a night he’d planned for himself to Actually Sleep--is more exhausting than the usual late night service.
His eyes, however glassy, stay open, but the slight slumping of his shoulders returns in less than half an hour.
_____
Still reading, Julien will finally reach out and firmly tug Chives’ sleeve to direct him toward laying down. At this point, the butler would likely keel over on his way back to his quarters and while Julien would happily subject a Lesser Card to such ignominy...well, it’s been established that Chives is not a Lesser Card.
Not hardly.
Don’t thank him for it, Chives, he’s not doing anything besides work, after all.
--
That has him snapping entirely awake, entirely stiff and confused, before he realizes where he is, whose fingers are on his sleeve, and what’s being asked of him. Then, of course, there will still be the briefest hesitation before he shifts, carefully, to curl down into the bed.
It’s slightly difficult to take up a tiny enough space not to interfere with the paperwork or invade the Ace’s personal space. He’ll do his best, though.
At least until he actually slips into sleep. Then heat-seeking might prompt a slight curling closer.
____
Chives isn’t the only one who slips into sleep. Eventually, even Julien leans more against the bed’s headboard, paper slipping out of the fingers of one hand, but the other finding its way to slipping into the butler’s hair, resting against his head as the Ace succumbs to unconsciousness.
It is, perhaps, far more comfortable than it ought to be. But if he’s asleep, he doesn’t have to think about that.
He doesn’t have to act.