Otherways

[theprettiestone]

Alex is in his room upstairs.

He's been here a while.

Comments

[ahsatan_natasha]

There's a knock on the door, not loud, but certainly too loud to be ignored.

[theprettiestone]

"It's unlocked."

[ahsatan_natasha]

The door opens, and he enters the room, stopping just inside the doorway.

"Good evening, mon ami."

[theprettiestone]

He looks up and smiles slightly, bright and brittle.

"Good evening, Grace."

There's a shrine in this room, a dedication to the Tortallan gods. A black candle is burning.

[ahsatan_natasha]

He watches Alex silently for a moment, gaze flickering to the shrine only briefly.

"You've not eaten recently, have you?"

It's not entirely a question.

[theprettiestone]

"What day is it?"

Not an answer. Or maybe it is.

[ahsatan_natasha]

"Wednesday," is the quiet response.

He takes a step sideways, leaning against the door, still propped open.

[theprettiestone]

"Not for a few days, then, no."

He doesn't gesture for Grace to enter. He doesn't gesture for him to leave, either.

[ahsatan_natasha]

He holds out a hand toward Alex.

"Come on, then."

[theprettiestone]

He blinks up at Grace, seemingly confused.

[ahsatan_natasha]

He looks at Alex calmly, not dropping his hand.

"Come downstairs with me. You need to eat."

[theprettiestone]

He shrugs and stands, deceptively docile.

"If you say so."

[ahsatan_natasha]

He waits, hand outstretched.

(There is somehow the sense that he does not particularly expect Alex to take his hand, and even more he does not expect to lead Alex downstairs in such a manner.)
(But still, his hand is outstretched.)

[theprettiestone]

Alex sways on his feet for a moment.
...one of the chief symptoms is detachment from the world, Lady Tirragen...
He reaches out and takes Grace's hand.
...it sounds as though you're trying not to tell me my son is mad...
His grip isn't as firm as it is normally. But it's there.

[ahsatan_natasha]

Alex's hand is moved to Grace's other, and the once-outstretched hand is now just a light touch at Alex's back, as Grace leads him out the door, and down the hall, and down the stairs.

One hand is steady under Alex's, the other steady just behind him, Grace walking beside him.

[theprettiestone]

He follows numbly, docilely, almost on automatic pilot.
...what, Tirragen, think you're too good to mix with the pages? Fucking stuck-up loner...