singillatim | (closed)

“I was terrible,” Crozier chuckles. “Forgot all my lines, wound up just playing scenery in the end.”

He thinks on another winter gala, the New Year’s party he and James Clark Ross had encouraged their men to throw. “Ross, the friend I’ve told you about, when he was commander he threw a large ball in honor of the New Year. I wore my dress uniform, and he a lovely gown, and we led the men in a quadrille.”

Dancing with ‘Miss Ross’ on the ice had certainly made a lasting impression on Francis Crozier.

Raju folds one forearm over the other, smiling. "He sounds like a fine man to serve under. Not many would be so willing to be laughed at like that for a bit of fun. What kind of leader was he? The Discovery Service might be different when you're stranded for the winter, but there's still order to be kept, isn't there?"

“He…” How to best describe Edward William Parry. He was evangelical, but not to the point of naivety like Sir John. He was genuine and sincere, and brave and meticulous.

“He was a man of god. He believed in the betterment of his crew, and let very little stop him in his pursuit of that. I was a midshipman when I served under him, and I remember the conversation when the idea of a crew newspaper was proposed. He so damned tickled, I think he was more proud of that than his discoveries.”

"A newspaper?" Again Raju's voice is a play at disbelief; it isn't believable, sort of, but he's enjoying believing it anyway. "About what? The crew? I imagine that turned into a gossip rag fairly quickly. What else is there to report on?"

“Of course it was a gossip rag! What the hell else were we going to write about, the daily menu?”

He shakes his head softly, full of good-humored nostalgia. “It published scientific efforts and trivia, and some gossip here and there. It was entertaining.”

"Maybe that's what this place needs." It would be a better way to keep up with everything than looking at whatever people decide to put on that message board, anyway— and a good way to keep up with gossip, too. He finds he almost misses that. Or maybe he only misses being better at knowing about it. None of the things he'd used to know about high society and how to involve himself in it apply here. And to be honest, keeping up with things in the same way here has been the last thing on his mind. But sitting here like this now it's easy to like the idea, or at least to like the way it allows him to tease about it.

"It's a shame it would use so much paper." He grins. "Maybe I could volunteer you, with all your experience."

“Oh, don’t be so cruel. I’d be forced to hear about adolescent problems day and night!”

True torture, never mind the cold and monsters.

“Only adolescent ones?” Raju grins. “You think everyone wouldn’t come complaining to you about their problems, asking you for advice…”

The man’s only just committed to involving himself at all, to facing other people again, but even if he hadn’t spent his time since he’d gotten here frightened to stop separating himself, Raju thinks this would still be something to tease about.

“Becoming a listening ear for every little annoyance in the town would suit you, I think.”

Edited (copy pasted from notes app wrong) 2024-03-26 20:16 (UTC)

He laughs again, enjoying the very gentle teasing thoroughly. He’s not so fragile, nor does he have anything like dignity or self-importance left - but mainly the first thing. Teasing between friends, it’s a nice change of pace for him.

“Is it the sad eyes or the fact that I’ve learned how to keep a still face whilst listening to minor annoyances?”

Raju breathes out a little laugh too. "Your patience, I think. I remember the first time we met, I kept expecting you to tell me to go away and you never did. And then you kept answering my questions! Terrible technique if you were trying to keep people from coming to you for things."

He starts rolling his foot on his heel again, tapping it against Francis' as he keeps grinning. "Maybe you're not as good at it as you think you are."

“Hell,” he laughs, knocking his foot back against Raju’s. He rubs under his ribs at the bandage and glances away, trying to hide the smile on his face.

“I don’t mind that kind of failure,” he finally admits. “If it brings people like you into my life.”

He doesn’t mean for it to be as significant as it sounds. He’s met so many people here that he’s enjoyed in some capacity - people he’d been desperate to push away when he first arrived.

Raju’s smile fades just a little, but only in surprise. Then he huffs a soft breath out of his nose, leaning forward. “I, ah…”

He taps a finger against the table. “I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage after leaving the Community Hall that way. I’ve only lived on my own a little bit; I guess I’m not used to it.”

Walking into a quiet cabin and looking around it at the abandoned things half-scavenged and thrown in corners to mold in the dark hadn’t been much like those first days of moving into his own rented rooms in Delhi, and it certainly hadn’t been like the later days, when Akhtar had been in near every day, as often as he could get away from everything else. Waking up this morning, comparing that to now, it’s… Well.

Raju takes advantage of his seat beside Francis to lean a little more and bump his shoulder. “So I suppose there are worse things for you to be terrible at,” he says. His smile isn’t a grin any more but it lingers, just as warm and softer.

In the days following little routines start to take shape. Small things, less focused on survival and more...well, frivolity is too light a descriptor for the kind of outings Crozier invites Raju along, but there is fun to be had in it all. He shares what he knows and takes advantage of the fact that Raju doesn't have mending ribs or just a single hand, and he has a little fun with a friend whose company he greatly enjoys.

Sleeping at the Community Hall, waking up there, it hadn't really mattered where he went, or when. There'd been a little of that in those last months in Delhi, nothing like the regimented routine that'd shaped his life in the barracks, but this place is something else again.

It isn't a routine, exactly, that Raju falls into. Sometimes Raju arrives later, or sometimes Francis is gone when he does— they each have their own business. But it's something, knowing where he needs to go when he wakes up. Knowing there might be someone there worth talking to once he does. Something about it helps.

Not that there's much time to fall into a routine anyway. It isn't a week later when that odd man, Methuselah, calls them together and gives them what should be good news, or hopeful news. But Raju's frowning as he hears some group behind him start talking over who's going to draw up the sign-up sheet Methuselah had suggested, looking around through whatever members of the crowd are lingering now that the announcement itself is done. The odd man wants whoever's going to leave soon, and there's one man in particular whose judgement Raju's learned to trust here, particularly if they're told that time is short. There.

"Francis," Raju calls, raising a hand and moving toward him. "What do you make of it?"

What does he make of it? Crozier can still feel a tightening in his chest, fear sharp and clean and wholly unexpected. The proposal of something so simple as a scouting party shouldn’t horrify him as much as it does, so he’s quiet during the meeting, trying to understand where this pain had originated and why his hand won’t stop shaking.

As the others begin to discuss the formation of a party amongst themselves he starts to walk away, wanting a little fresh air to gain in the hopes he’ll gain some perspective. Thankfully a distraction comes along in the form of a friend, and Crozier acknowledges the question with a soft grunt.

“We’re vulnerable enough as it is,” he tells him honestly, because Raju’s earned his candid opinion and then some. “Splitting us up, even temporarily, feels wrong. We could lose people all on a damned hunch.”

Raju nods, thoughtful, gaze distant as he crosses his arms over his chest. "And if no one went?" His voice is as thoughtful as his expression, not eager, saying the idea to see what he'll get back. "We've seen everything there is to see here, picked over the whole town again and again every time a new batch of us comes. If we're to find a way to go back, or to fight what we need to, the key has to be somewhere else. If this is the only way to look for it, don't we have to take the risk?"

“I’m not a proponent for acting conservatively. If we’re stagnant then we should move, but I’m worried about the party. It’s dangerous, and the loss of some of those I’ve heard requesting to join the initial scouting…”

He’s thinking of his men, of course, Goodsir and Little and the absence they’d create in the community (and his own stupid, frail heart) if something were to happen to them.

“I think…I think my misgivings there are personal.”

Raju sighs a slow breath out through his nose and his head tilts further back, the line of his shoulders falling, posture melting in the same moment that his sharp, thoughtful expression does into sympathy. Of course he would feel that way, after everything the man’s already lost.

Raju’s arms uncross, one hand setting itself over the back of Francis’ neck , lingering there for a moment, then sliding down over his shoulder to squeeze at his arm. Raju’s eyes move over Francis’ face. “Would they agree not to go if you asked? Whoever it is you’re worrying for?”

The solidarity helps; at least Raju doesn’t think him silly, not that he imagined he would. “Some of the men,” he says quietly, pausing. “My men. Doctor Goodsir in particular. He fared poorly when he was separated from the rest, though through no fault of his own. I…”

He falters slightly. They’d listen if he asked, though Goodsir would argue if there was benefit to others. He couldn’t do that to them; what has he given them to earn that kind of trust again? And they’re their own men here, no rank or hierarchy to make them yield one way or another.

“I wouldn’t ask that of them. I can keep my worries silent.”

His men, of course. The ties of responsibility are the strongest ones of all; failed responsibility something else again. And of course that tie to Goodsir would be the strongest. And of course a man like the one in front of him would claim not to be their captain, as he had on that long, dark night when Raju had asked, but keep wanting to care for them like one anyway.

"You shouldn't have to. I—" Realisation and disappointment break over Raju's face; with his breath out his posture deflates a little. "I can't watch over them for you. I can't go. I— my..."

He has to brace himself, still, to say it. "The... the fire. In a mine. That would be worse than stupid."

His eyes are downcast, the set of his jaw frustrated. But this isn't about him. He looks back up at Francis, hand on his shoulder sliding down to his elbow. "I don't suppose seeing them well supplied would help? Weapons, food?"

Crozier seems to have the same realization - first a little hope, Raju going would solve this issue, or at least make him less anxious - and then the same sort of quiet disappointment. He doesn’t wear his on his face though, not wanting to place that burden back onto Raju just for having the sense to be cautious.

It’s just as well. He knows himself, the relief would only turn when he realized that Raju was also putting himself into harm’s way.

“That may allay some concerns,” he relents. “And I could always join the initial party to the mines. I could…see them off, so to speak.”

“So to speak.” Raju studies him. He might not call himself a captain anymore, but he thinks like one. Raju knows responsibility, what it can take sometimes to sate it. But if Francis thinks he couldn’t manage the whole journey, because of not-quite healed ribs or simple age, asking whether he’ll be going the rest of the way too might make him have to admit it.

“Will it help?” He keeps his voice low, aware of the people milling a little ways away. “Watching them go into it?”

He’s not sure if it’ll help, if anything but seeing the party return whole and hale will help. “It couldn’t hurt,” he tells him quietly. “And I’ll be nearby in case I’m needed.”

In case the worse should happen, but what the hell could he do if there was a disaster? Absolutely nothing.

He grunts and pushes his hand through his hair, clearly annoyed with himself. He’s at odds with the explorer side of himself and the parts of him so grief-stricken he can barely think straight, the rationalist he is versus the reality of failure.

Edited 2024-03-29 20:55 (UTC)

Raju breathes out slowly, expression solemn and faintly sympathetic, watching him. Needing to act but not being able is worse than anything else, and there's not a thing that Francis can do that will feel like it's enough to protect the men that he's lost already once. But before Francis has to watch them leave he can do something, can't he? And that might help at least until the last moment, when Francis has to let his men out of his sight.

"Come on," Raju says, squeezing at Francis' elbow and trying to lead him by it around the edges of the crowd, toward the kitchen and the basement's supplies beneath it. "We'll start packing. That will be one less thing they have to do. You have a weapon, don't you? I can lend you my knife for the journey. It isn't much, but it's better than nothing."

He's easily led away, glad to be able to both get away and feel like he's doing something. "Better than my snow knife." Bone versus metal - he knows which one he'd choose if he was in trouble.

"You'll have to give up fighting with bears for a while if you give me your knife," he says with a quiet sort of smile. "Do you think you can avoid the temptation?"

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Time Skip!

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