Practice EP

[inanhour]

The boy -- man? who walks into Milliways is mostly stable on his feet, but doesn't look very well.

His brow furrows, and he unconsciously reaches up to touch it. It is not damp with fever-sweat, at least.

"... There were not so few steps between my bed and an inn." Unless he forgot them?

Maybe he forgot them.

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[inanhour]

Arabella's not wrong. Sebastian sits, but he turns to watch her as he does, and sees the brandy and the rolls spring out of the Bar.

"A dream, then," he murmurs, to himself. "Though it feels as real as the rest of life."

Life has lately felt unreal.

He smiles at Arabella when she returns, though after her question sinks in he looks somewhat put-upon. "I have neither wife nor nursemaid, so I have the mastery of my bed," he says, picking up the brandy snifter to let it warm. "Though I may be an unwise master," he allows, and smiles again. "I'm not given to reading, but it seems to be all I have done since my fever broke."

[astrangebell]

"Well, you would hardly be a young man if you did not refuse to keep to your bed, no matter how much good it might do you," Arabella says with a smile. "But you cannot mean to say you have been entirely unattended in your illness?"

[inanhour]

He shakes his head, before taking a sip of brandy. Once he feels more settled, he'll begin on the rolls.

"No -- I was plucked from the sea by a man named Antonio, and he does care for me with great kindness amongst his other tasks."

[astrangebell]

"Then you were fortunate twice over, it seems-- in your escape, and in being rescued by someone so generous. Though of course, I would like to hope that no one, in your friend's position, would do any less."

[inanhour]

At fortunate, Sebastian's gaze loses some focus. He doesn't quite frown, but he picks up a roll, and tears somewhat at it.

"-- Yes," he says, when he realizes she's finished speaking.

[astrangebell]

"Forgive me," she says gently. "I know nothing about it, I will speak of it no further.'

Arabella picks up a roll, less because she actually wants one than because it seems rather odd to just sit here and watch the poor boy eat.

"I am quite newly come here myself," she says. "But I have found it agreeable so far. A change of scenery can make all the difference in the world, don't you find?"

[inanhour]

Sebastian nods, then considers.

"Do you -- you are not from the area around Illyria, madam?"

She dresses not like it -- for what he understands, Illyria is a very extravagant place. But she speaks the language well.

He eats some of his roll, but tastes salt, and rubs discreetly at his face with his sleeve. Perhaps she will not notice.

[astrangebell]

"I am from England," she says. "But I think you will find this place cares very little for the logic of time or place. I English, you from-- Illyria, you say? But no more than a door separating any one of us from where we came from."

Her tone is light and conversational, and she places her handkerchief on the table in front of him with such careless ease, one might almost think it was an accident, or just a coincidence that she happened to set it there.

[inanhour]

"Messaline," he murmurs. This place is sounding ever more like a dream. "Though -- yes. I am near to Illyria, now. Are you of London?"

... he will accept this handkerchief.

[astrangebell]

"I lived some years in London," she says. "Though I was born in Shropshire."

[inanhour]

"I know it not," Sebastian admits.

He has made a quick dab of his face with the handkerchief -- quick enough to hopefully pretend it didn't happen -- and returns it to the table.

He finally eats his roll.

[astrangebell]

Arabella leaves the handkerchief there, just in case.

"Oh, I would not expect you to! I think most Englishmen hardly know where it is, much less know anything about it."

She looks at him for a moment, then says, "I don't doubt you are weary, sir. And this place is surely odd." She knows she'd be far less sanguine if she hadn't come from a place much, much odder. "If you wish to be left to your own thoughts, I hope you won't hesitate to say so."

[inanhour]

"My thoughts are not amiable companions," he says, and smiles at her. "I do not think I can be rid of them, but I would like to hear of your Shropshire --or of this place, lest I find myself in danger of wandering with curiosity."

There are doors.

"If it is not a burden on your time?"

[astrangebell]

"There is all the the time in the world here, you may know that first," Arabella says. She draws her chair in a little closer, not because she needs to necessarily, but to let him see she's perfectly content to settle in to stay as long as he likes. "When you return to Illyria, you will find no time has passed at all. Though no one has said so, it is my guess that-- well, you have heard fairy tales, haven't you? Where men and women wander away into fairy lands and return and find that a hundred years have passed at home? It is my belief this place is something like that, only... well, the reverse, I suppose."