Raju frowns as he says it. Then he takes a slow, bracing breath and gives a businesslike nod. Just because he doesn't like acknowledging his own part in raising the spectre of Fitzjames death, or doesn't like the liquid, sour feeling of thinking of how easy it had nearly been to end a good man's life, that doesn't mean he shouldn't do it.
Better, though, to focus more on learning about Fitzjames the things he can't glean from stories: there's self control, Raju thinks, in the way the man speaks on his own death, and he approves of it in the same way he'd approved of that gesture, very casually handing Raju the arrow that'd almost killed him. For all Raju wouldn't put Fitzjames on any chore that involves any more physical work than standing in place for an hour, the idea of Francis relying on a man who'd do those things is a welcome first hint at an answer to a question Raju hadn't realised he'd been asking.
"I... regret that, for what it's worth," Raju admits solemnly, after a moment of thinking about anything else has made the regret palatable enough to swallow. "And not only for Francis' sake. I'd hoped... Well, my first impressions are usually a lot better than that."
He tries for a little smile, then sighs, fingers of one crossed arm tapping on the elbow of the other. "Have you ever found a way to distract him, cheer him up? Or is it always a matter of waiting?" His voice is even lower when he asks it. Francis would think he minded, if he'd heard Raju ask, and so Francis can't be allowed to hear it— but it's not as if he's going to meet a man who knows and cares for Francis this way without asking for tips.
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Better, though, to focus more on learning about Fitzjames the things he can't glean from stories: there's self control, Raju thinks, in the way the man speaks on his own death, and he approves of it in the same way he'd approved of that gesture, very casually handing Raju the arrow that'd almost killed him. For all Raju wouldn't put Fitzjames on any chore that involves any more physical work than standing in place for an hour, the idea of Francis relying on a man who'd do those things is a welcome first hint at an answer to a question Raju hadn't realised he'd been asking.
"I... regret that, for what it's worth," Raju admits solemnly, after a moment of thinking about anything else has made the regret palatable enough to swallow. "And not only for Francis' sake. I'd hoped... Well, my first impressions are usually a lot better than that."
He tries for a little smile, then sighs, fingers of one crossed arm tapping on the elbow of the other. "Have you ever found a way to distract him, cheer him up? Or is it always a matter of waiting?" His voice is even lower when he asks it. Francis would think he minded, if he'd heard Raju ask, and so Francis can't be allowed to hear it— but it's not as if he's going to meet a man who knows and cares for Francis this way without asking for tips.