am i making something worthwhile // general action

[adamantined]

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I drive a Rolls Royce cause it's good for my voice but you won't fool the children of the revolution

[treadingdawn]

Every late morning, at the hour nearest noon, Caspian X visits his favorite patisserie belonging to one Claire Bennet. After several weeks in this city, weeks of trying everything each bakery, sweet shop, and coffee place, has to offer he's concluded Claire's falls within the top tier. It isn't about how rich her ingredients are or how every recipe may or may not be a family-kept secret, nor is it about a feeling of elite exclusivity (because there is none), the success of her pastries stems from a clear dedication to her craft regardless of promotion or profit. Caspian admires that quality, it's just an excellent perk how everything she makes tastes exquisite too. On top of that, she's friendly, and it's her friendliness that brings him to the patisserie a little earlier than usual. Yes, cinnamon twists may be involved too but really, the Telmarine has something to say to her ever since he revealed it to another blond not long ago. Next to him, Claire is another person whom he feels he owes the truth. So when Caspian slips through

I drive a Rolls Royce cause it's good for my voice but you won't fool the children of the revolution

[treadingdawn]

"Please, let me."

Thank her, that is...even as he returns to taking a sip from the coffee she pre-emptively brought to him, but Caspian means it too. Caspian reciprocates the same feeling, how he is the one who owes her something for her amiable nature, he willingness to befriend a boy who wandered aimlessly looking for a snack to eat. Back then he may have played the role of the struggling immigrant better but such is the result of being around someone else for a long time; eventually the subtleties become more apparent and the deliberate guardedness slips away. Take for example his widening brown eyes at her comment, that he is lucky to be able to disappear. More than this, he interprets an implication that she isn't so luck but then the curiosity he wonders is what does Claire want to leave

I drive a Rolls Royce cause it's good for my voice but you won't fool the children of the revolution

[backbefore]

Both of her eyebrows jump, and Claire intertwines her fingers in front of her face so that she can hide her mouth behind them. For lack of anything better to do, she picks up the small spoon that came on the tray with the twists, for his coffee, and stirs the drink once he's set it back down. "If only it were that simple," says Claire, letting the spoon drop back onto the table and pulling off a bit of a twist to chew on as she goes. "I think the one thing that we all have in common, that we can at least say links us, is that we all have expectations of some kind or another

I drive a Rolls Royce cause it's good for my voice but you won't fool the children of the revolution

[treadingdawn]

The stirring gesture occupies his visual attention for a moment. It's something to focus on lest his eyes give away the fact that he'd like to stay in this city for a while longer. Caspian knows he must go back to his kingdom, what kind of son would he be to abandon what all those who came before him worked to obtain? That they obtained it by less than savory means is something he can't change, but he can work towards a shift in a different direction. If he doesn't lead his people then who will? Who will do so in a way that is fair and just, in a way that defines a good king by being first and foremost a good man. Caspian would be lying if he said he could abandon the crown without guilt. Though great and numerous duties are expected of him, he wouldn't fulfill them to appease any elders or councils, he would fulfill them because it is the right thing to do

I drive a Rolls Royce cause it's good for my voice but you won't fool the children of the revolution

[backbefore]

"I wouldn't mind it if it wasn't an actual expectation," she confesses with a laugh, now ripping pieces of the twist apart for lack of anything better to do with her hands. "If it was something that I got to do because I chose to do it, I think inheriting this place wouldn't bother me so much sometimes, taking up the mantle, however you want to label it. I like it here, I like working here with my mother. I don't like that I'm expected to like it." But she goes along with it anyway, because it is expected of her at all.

There's a sudden bustle of noise from the kitchen, like someone has just dropped a pan of something, but instead of raised voices and angry tones, all Claire can hear is laughter, a little bit of rapid French, and her mother asking if someone is alright, laughing as well. It warms her, and when she turns back to Caspian, her face is a little less far away, warmer as she exchanges her own bit of information. "The pressure to marry in your own social class and to marry well within that class is a real one," she says,

I drive a Rolls Royce cause it's good for my voice but you won't fool the children of the revolution

[treadingdawn]

"A little bit of honest intention makes all the difference, doesn't it," Caspian remarks as he shakes his head. How typical of guardians--her parents in her case--to force a ward in a certain direction without realizing it's just as possible that he or she would face that path anyway. Maybe they're supposed to realize just how important it is that one take the mantle of the other, but sometimes overemphasis adds a weight to the shoulders, a misguided gesture that leaves an heir walking anything but tall

I drive a Rolls Royce cause it's good for my voice but you won't fool the children of the revolution

[backbefore]

"I think we're in the same boat, as far as opinions on the subject go," Claire answers, leaning her elbow completely on the table so that she can cup her chin in the palm of her hand. "I can't say how he feels specifically but neither of us have made any rush to see that the idea gets carried out, and I personally don't plan to, and I don't think that he plans to either." She lifts the spoon again, spins it between thumb and forefinger, unable to sit still yet unwilling to get up and walk away until she's sure that she either wouldn't be missed or until she's sure she would be missed and being missed would end up being the entire point. "I like to think that I've made it clear that... I don't think of him in that way, and probably couldn't ever think of him in that way." Claire pauses here to laugh. "We've grown up together. It would be like marrying my brother, you know

I drive a Rolls Royce cause it's good for my voice but you won't fool the children of the revolution

[treadingdawn]

"Of course..." Caspian sounds in an absent-minded manner, almost impolitely so.

Again his brow furrows because what he wants to say has to be kept a private thought unless he wants to alienate Claire, which he doesn't. The fact of the matter is, it's because they know each other from childhood and come from compatible classes that their parents would expect this of them, that's what Caspian assumes anyway based on what he knows of the court. Caspian feels he can empathize; if he had a lady for a cousin she would certainly be placed on top of his list for marriage, obviously not a list drafted by himself either. A nobleman's child, the eldest daughter of a high ranking lord or officer would be equally suitable, not for love but to maintain the status quo. That's what marriage has been reduced to--no, has always been--for some, even those who live in the city that professes truth, beauty, freedom, and love. Yet another blond's words come to mind about disenchantment, stay long enough and the veneer chips. Whether they share romantic

I drive a Rolls Royce cause it's good for my voice but you won't fool the children of the revolution

[backbefore]

His comment surprises her, but only in a way that makes her realize where she is and what she's saying. Claire abides by the same standards and rules that everyone else who wanders in and out of this place does, and it's a stupid decision to say anything about it at all when her mother is right around the corner, even more so when she's saying it to someone not even remotely involved in the conversation. These are concerns that she should be airing with Peter, collecting his opinion on, even if it is nice at times to get an outsider's perspective to even the playing field, so to speak, and Caspian's reaction is as good as any at putting her own place into perspective

I drive a Rolls Royce cause it's good for my voice but you won't fool the children of the revolution

[treadingdawn]

Caspian has learned that even the softest whisper can travel far within castle walls. It's the way of the court and often it's a way that leaves a sour taste in one's mouth. Those who speak too freely are no more to blame than those who keep their ears too open, too eager to have the tools for social or political manipulation. While the familial bonds within a bakery don't quite parallel court conspiracies, the dynamic is roughly the same. Trays can clang against tables, ovens can rumble with the sound of a stoking fire, and wood can ply dough until it's malleable, someone will hear them if that person tries hard enough. In Claire's case it's or her and her mother's sake, as well as Peter's who indeed deserves to hear these words too. Caspian doesn't oppose being her confidant, not for even the briefest moment, but those other thoughts aside there is now something he needs to sort for himself

I drive a Rolls Royce cause it's good for my voice but you won't fool the children of the revolution

[backbefore]

"You're welcome," she says, low and quiet, close to his ear. Her arms go around him automatically, squeezing him tightly across the shoulders, the same way that she might embrace an uncle or a brother. Claire doesn't want to rush him off, would ask him to stay if she thought that he might, but the unspoken understanding between them is there, and Claire has wasted too much time sitting down and talking - about things that should be talked about and things that shouldn't - to be doing anymore of it.

When she lets him go, she manages to tuck a piece of hair away from his face before he pulls back to leave, and she's left standing next to the cooling cup of coffee with the fingers of one hand wrapped around the opposite elbow, only letting go to wave as the door opens and closes after him. She hopes that smile that she sends his way follows him further than just the streets outside, but doesn't spend too long lingering on the thought, turning to collect the dishes off of the table, get back to work.