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Raju's laughing isn't as quiet this time, and by the time that Francis finishes explaining Raju's pressing his lips hard together, paying lip service to the idea that he's trying to stop and look serious, for Francis' sake. "A fine effort. Maybe you can call on me and just eat your mushrooms next time. Are you ready to start here, or do you need..."

He looks over at the shredded mushrooms on the floor and back again, eyebrows raised, expression expectant. If Francis wants to try his mushroom trick again, Raju's expression says, innocently, then Raju's willing to go over and get one.

"I've got a hammer, you know," Crozier says dryly. Laughing at him! Laughing at his attempts to poke a nail through a mushroom in order to hold it down so he could take a proper swing! Laughing at his obviously very funny attempts to be independent!

He smirks softly. "Hold the damn plank and nail, and let's get this hole covered."

Raju holds the damn plank and nail as ordered, smile deepening around his eyes as his lips still sort of try to hold it back.

“I’d like to find something to cover those edges with, too,” he notes after a moment of watching Francis’ hand to be at least mostly certain that his fingers will be mostly safe. His smile lingers, fading a little as he shifts his focus. “Glue or something. Something will come through otherwise, if the storms here are anything like the sandstorms back in Delhi.”

Raju’s fingers were never in any danger. He’s long past the point where the lack of whiskey would cause trembling hands. Once the first plank’s in he steps back to look at their handiwork.

“Caulking would do nicely, if we could find it.” It’s a shame Hickey wasn’t the real caulker’s mate; it would have been useful in this place.

His thoughts drift to Fitzjames at the mention of sandstorms. Didn’t he have a story similar to that? What he wouldn’t give to have him here now to vex him half to death with his annoying bloody stories.

“Tell me about the sandstorms? I’ve never been anywhere that’s capable of forming them.”

"Mhm," Raju agrees, looking around for another piece of wood as he talks. "It's... closest to that one storm we had here, you remember, the one where we met. A good deal filthier, but the wind sounds like that. And you have to wait it out that way, too. I don't know why I liked listening to it so much when we were all trapped inside that Hall together, it always used to be damned boring. At least back then I could pass the time training but there's no equipment here, and it would have been rude to in front of all the women anyway, at least if I didn't want sweat all through my clothes. Is this a good size for the next one?"

He turns back toward Francis, holding up the next piece of wood he's hunted down. As much of a to-do as Raju had made about the mushrooms, it helps that Francis has already started here, so a lot of the materials are nearby already.

"Mn?" He glances over at the plank and nods; it'll do just fine.

"It's different here," he says, going back to the talk of storms. "The howl of the wind and the sounds of the ice hitting the trees, it's different. And the company's very different. The wait isn't filled with boredom, but anticipation."

“Really?” Raju’s pacing around the room, trying to decide on the next spot the most needs repair, and he looks back to raise his eyebrows. Amusement lingers in his voice when he goes on, but he doesn’t not mean it. “What is it we’re anticipating when we wait it out here? The chance to go do more nothing outside, only even colder?”

He’s managed most days to keep himself a little busy — he’s had to — but busy enough is a distant dream by this point. The restlessness here is almost as unyielding as the cold, though it drove him here today too, so at least for the moment, he shouldn’t really complain.

He’s going to complain. It’s damned annoying, the lack of anything that matters to get done here, even on the days it’s not actively awful.

“It’s the unexpected. After the storm subsided we found hot springs — the great unknown, as it were.”

But he won’t begrudge Raju a little complaining. It’s cold and harsh and no one has a clue what’s going on in this damned place. The day-to-day is mind-numbing for anyone who can’t lose themselves to a routine.

"Oh." Raju picks out a couple more nails, then moves over toward the next likely place, holding the piece of wood up in front of it. "I remember that. Ah—"

Raju looks away from the nail to Francis' face, not quite embarrassed, but aware that his reasons for never going to the place after it'd been uncovered might not seem as sound aloud. "How are they, the hot springs? Did you try them?"

Crozier laughs softly and unabashedly. Despite the initial awkwardness of Hickey staring at him and attempting to touch him, he adores the springs. "Oh, I absolutely did. I try to go every few days. It eases the aches in my joints."

He swings the hammer and the nail sinks in easily. "You haven't gone yet?"

Raju shakes his head, watching the arc of the hammer. Raju might not know enough to judge the rest, but Francis is good at this part of it; good enough aim to hit the smaller target and not the larger one right next to it, with the confidence to keep the hammer on its course. "I, ah..."

He huffs a laugh at himself as he sets the next nail into place, shaking his head. "Walking out of that cave was bad enough without even going in the water. Going back into the cold again. Didn't want to get too used to being warm. Does it help your joints for long, afterward? Or only while you're still inside?"

"You're overthinking. It's relaxing, Raju. You should indulge every once in a while."

He motions for Raju to hold another nail up and readies the hammer. "And yes, it helps my joints for the rest of the damn day."

Raju huffs an amused noise, smiling downward for a moment. That doesn't feel right, but he can't quite figure out the argument, and so Francis' point has to win. But he supposes an older man with an older man's problems would sing the praises of a hot spring sooner than Raju himself would, anyway.

"Does anything else help?" he holds the next nail in place obediently, thoughtlessly following the urge to solve this new problem. "Rice is too dear to use in a hot pack here, but there must be something else. Sand if we could find it, something to tie up in a cloth and put next to the fire until it's warm enough."

“Fresh meat,” he answers, determined now to drag Raju off to the hot springs so he can try it for himself. He’s far too pragmatic for his own good; it’s getting in the way of small moments of potential joy.

“Fresh meat keeps the scurvy away, vegetables and fresh herbs. That’s what’s best for the joints now, never mind the rest.” Keeping the scurvy at bay will always be his first concern.

Crozier steps back to inspect their work. “You are eating well, are you not?”

“Mm?” Raju’s distracted from his determination to actually mind the rest, to make something that at least can be warmed by the fire for Francis if he should see a way to, by the question. “Ah.”

He gives a sheepish half-smile, a shrug. “There’s been plenty of time for gathering herbs,” he says, both because it’s true and because it’s the safest part of the question to answer. “The ones that grow here, anyway. I think I’ve had enough rosehip tea to last me the rest of my life.”

He laughs, “good lord. I’m tired of rosehip tea! I’d rather drink bark water at this point.”

Crozier sets his hammer down for a moment to look for yet another hole to patch while he has two more good hands to help. “You’ll come to the spring with me, mn?”

Raju looks surprised, then amused. “For my joints?” he asks, not really protesting so much as putting off the moment when he says yes, and poking a little fun at Francis on the way. He goes for another couple nails and then turns back, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t eat that badly.”

"For the cold!"

He motions to the next hole and the plank that he's fairly certain will get the job done. "For the cold! And because it's an indulgence, and suffering for the sake of suffering is something I do. Christ, is this what I sound like? I want to kick my own arse."

It's impossible not to laugh. It's a fuller laugh than Raju's used to hearing out of his own mouth, at least in recent months, and he feels it in his chest as he reaches for the next plank. "You don't sound like you like suffering now. You sound like you're wanting to drag me down into your bad habits with you."

"Having a soak isn't a bad habit. Trying to relax isn't a bad habit," he scoffs, but he can't keep the amusement away from his own expression. Raju's laugh is large and fills up the dusty room, and it's horribly endearing. He should do it more often. "Hold up the plank and the nail, we're nearly done."

Raju holds up the plank and nail where he's being asked to, but his warm, happy gaze doesn't move off Francis' face. "But what do you do after you leave the springs? It's already freezing, soften yourself up before the walk back and you'll get home a popsicle. It sounds like a terrible habit to me."

Edited 2024-03-15 02:54 (UTC)

He knocks the next few nails in rapid succession. “You stay in long enough that stepping out feels refreshing too. Honestly, I think you’re giving this too much thought.”

Crozier grins and hands him the hammer. “Finish up this patch while I fix us something to eat.” Nothing fancy, of course, some sort of stew with unevenly-chopped root vegetables. The height of Arctic gourmet!

"Mhm," Raju says, taking the hammer, but he'll be watching Francis curiously more than watching himself using it. He glances at the hammer every now and then, but his hands each know exactly where they are, and there are more interesting things to be looking at.

"Where did those come from?" he asks, once the vegetables come out. "You found them?"

“Dug them out with my knife a few days ago,” he tells him, said knife coming out now to chop. “Queen Anne’s lace and arrowroot. The arrowroot is mainly filling, but the Queen Anne’s lace is similar to a carrot. Good in a stew.”

Raju sets the hammer down absently without thinking about where as he makes his way closer. Asking how Francis spotted them might give away the answer to that earlier question, about whether he was eating well. Well enough is the answer, of course, but that enough involves more rationing of canned goods that are going to run out eventually than anything fresh, for all the time Raju spends wandering outside, and there's no point in inviting something like the look on Akhtar's face, when he'd seen the state of Raju's cupboards at home. In Delhi. Closer to home.

"You go out looking for those things often?" Raju asks instead, watching from over Francis' shoulder. "How far do you have to go?"

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