France, June-July, 1919.

[teachyouwhoiam]

They traveled through Belgium rather quickly, meandering southward (and away from Pas-de-Calais for reasons Carlisle never truly enunciates). The first city of any major import Edward and Carlisle pass closely to is Reims, about eighty miles outside of Paris

Comments

[iwouldfollowyou]

The damage to the city is obvious. The bombardment has left it's marks everywhere, as well as the open firing from both sides. The further into Europe the more it is impossible to find spots that are not tracks of the recent turn of history.

"We could see the cathedral on all the posters," Edward surmised, evenly.

[teachyouwhoiam]

"We almost have to."

It's important. No matter how much Carlisle will regret having to see such a beautiful construction as he remembers the Reims cathedral to be in such disrepair and wounded so.

They haven't found a room for the night (they've been traveling more and more lately), but Carlisle finds a storekeeper with some spare room and overpays him to keep their small bags off in a corner for the evening.

[iwouldfollowyou]

"It's not as though we have to have one." The room. "We haven't stayed anywhere longer than a day and half in the last week."

Edward had inquired for directions with a look of respectfully youthful interest that has become easier to slip toward when having to interact with people who are not Carlisle -- at least for the few minutes he has to.

It's a bit of way, but it's not like that ever bothers them.

[teachyouwhoiam]

Carlisle shrugs, letting Edward lead towards the cathedral. I get annoyed with carrying the bags. It's a prop Carlisle tires of, even if he recognizes its usefulness.

The hospitals are on the other side of the city. Carlisle notes this and moves on.

Edward and Carlisle would be far more conspicuous if people had time to care who they were. Everyone has their own business to mind, their own damage to repair.