A celebratory day, of sorts.

[eagle_of_words]

A Happy Bastille Day, my friends! Courfeyrac, make us laugh. Grantaire, wine. Bahorel, tell us tales of red revolution. Jehan, a poem. Our Fearless Leader need only stand by and look dramatic. Joly I want to sit by my side throughout it all. As for the rest of you, do something appropriate. All of you, by God, excuse my illness

Comments

[hearth_cricket]

I hope you had a very happy day, sir! I am a bit late and do not know much about this special day of yours, but I do hope it was a happy one.

I do hope you are feeling quite better, as well. I have been away for a while, but never stopped worrying over you.

[eagle_of_words]

Thanks, multiple. *smiles* That's quite all right. It's a day we celebrate the storming of the Bastille, a historic and hideous edifice. I don't remember quite why, though. *stretches cheerfully*

Ah, cricket, you're too good to me. Yes, I can promise you I'm much better. In fact, I may very well be healed, but don't tell anyone. I'm trying to garner a bit more sympathetic ministration before I admit to being whole again.

[hearth_cricket]

*grins cheerfully* I promise I won't tell a soul, sir! I dare say you deserve to be treated kindly and tended to after your sickness. I know myself that it is no fun. *smile fades a bit but quickly returns* I will be happy to make you more tea to make you feel better any time. Even if you're not really sick.

I'll keep your secret sir! I am very good at it!

[eagle_of_words]

What a good cricket I have, after neglecting her so long, who ministers to me with tea and keeps my secrets for me. Thank you.

*grins slightly and presses a lace handkerchief with an embroidery of pink rosebuds into her hand* And thank you again, while I'm at it.

[hearth_cricket]

Oh, it is my pleasure, sir. I am very good at being patient, too.

*gapes at the lovely handkerchief and holds it oh so delicately* Oh, sir! This is far too lovely for me. It should be in your shop with all your other pretty things.

[eagle_of_words]

Most excellent.

My shop, cricket, is entirely too stuffed with pretty things that no one is buying or trading for. Why, then, shall I not give a pretty thing to another pretty thing? It's quite yours.

[hearth_cricket]

Oh, thank you so much, sir! No one has ever given me such a pretty thing. I think I shall keep it in my little chest where I keep all my other pretty, special treasures. Thank you so much. *clutches it to her chest*

*makes a move as if to embrace him, but stops herself, suddenly quite shy and flushed*

[eagle_of_words]

Will it be all right there? Will you be able to make use of it?

*holds out his arms slightly, with an invitation*

[hearth_cricket]

Oh, it will be quite safe there, sir. It is where I keep all my special things: Jo's poems, Pickwick Papers, my dolls' clothes...

I think, perhaps at night I shall take it out and set it beside my bed so I might look at it as I fall asleep.

And no, sir! I do not intend to use it. It is far too pretty for that.

*moves into his inviting arms and embraces him* I think, sir, you are one of the nicest men I know.

*flushes, yet feels so very nice, as she pulls away slightly*

[eagle_of_words]

And I think you, you, Miss March, are one of the greatest ladies I have ever known.

*holds her loosely and quite platonically. considering his recent escapades, we should stress this, and smiles, and is only partly joking when he says this:* God be with thee, cricket.

[hearth_cricket]

*flushes, but his able to smile up at him*

And with you, sir. I think you deserve it more than any other.

Typist: OMG I am in love with him. And I think Beth is a little, too. Oh, I must know about these escapades because I am a nosey typist.

[eagle_of_words]

*laughs lightly* My thanks.

Typist: Oh, no, don't! He's awful! *waves hands* Er. Escapades. Well. I shall link you. Argh.

...But awwwww, Beth! <3

[hearth_cricket]

*beams at him, a reaction quite strange for Beth. It would likely be unsettling to those who knew her to see her in such a way. And yet, also to those who did not know her. He pale face gleams, her eyes take on a feverish hue, her weakness etched behind them*

Typist: Oh, but he is a darling! *clutches him* Oh, escapdes. Nothing too terrible, though. He is still a dear.

Yes, dear little Beth!

[eagle_of_words]

*cheerfully but also rather gently* Cricket, tell me, are you well? I should hate to think otherwise, of course, but I should also hate to have you collapse before my eyes.

Typist: Augh, no! Don't do it! :D No, not too terrible, although he is pretty much snogging anything that moves. and is male. O_o or Musichetta.

<33333 Ee.

[hearth_cricket]

*smile fades a bit* Oh. Oh, yes, sir. I'm all right. Just a bit of a lingering illness, is all. Mr. Laurence's doctor says it might go away eventually. *attempts, but fails at a reassuring smile* It is nothing for you to worry over, kind sir.

Typist: But I cannot resist! He is too dear! Hehe, poor dear must just be lonely!

<3333

[eagle_of_words]

*softly* That's all right. I'll worry if I'd like to, but not so much that I upset you. All the same, I'd like to conjure a chair for you, if you don't mind.

Typist: ... That's one way of thinking. XD