A Bar Downtown

[Anatole]

Anatole made a rueful chuckle, his eyes drifting inward.

"You could say that."

Eyes snapped back into focus as Gerrit continued.

"Glad to hear it. You put so much work and effort into that shop. It would have been a crying shame had you lost it."

Not given up; not taken away; simply lost.

Rather than continue to press, the Autumn Courtier allowed a silence to develop. Sometimes presence alone was all the conversation that was needed.

[Gerrit]

Gerrit enjoyed the silence. It wasn't uncomfortable sitting with the Wizened, and it allowed him to take in the surroundings of the bar. The diligent staff, the few other patrons and their almost hushed conversations. There was an almost reverent quality in the air - a swirl of deep sorrow and subdued joy all marinated in amber alcohol.

After a while the Ogre surprised himself by talking. "Her name was Lisa. My ex-wife's." He looked at his glass and his posture got slightly more hunched, almost mirroring someone sitting in front of their beer at the bar. Putting his past to rest once and for all this way seemed appropriate, given the setting. "She somehow smelled like blueberries, no matter what perfume she wore. She loved dancing and photography." No trace of bitterness or self-pity in Gerrit's voice, only maybe the residual sadness of saying good-bye. "I just hope that, uh, the guy she is seeing now isn't going to hurt her. Or the kids." With that he finally looked at Anatole again, trying to gauge how the Dwarf would react to this sudden sharing of information. Frankly, Gerrit was fine either way - he needed to say it out loud.

[Anatole]

Anatole raised an eyebrow as the fingers on his hand flexed. Very carefully he nodded and raised his drink to his lips; the foam hung limply on his face so he had to wipe it off with a hand. He leaned back, his chair creaking, while he stared across the table.

"That was unexpected. Brave. Eh... Thank you for your trust."

He was still staring across the table. Deliberately, he said:

"They... We... We were a little clan. Very wealthy: old money going back to the Guilded Age at least and rooted to the West Coast. You could say that my brother became the family head when our father passed away but he was really just a face - chiselled jaw, a skin that tanned easily and well - but it was younger brother who kept the wheels turning. Kept the money safe and growing. Kept the private eyes to ensure the family indescrestions were kept out of the public eye. He was me.

"I haven't yet worked out what happened. He was never had much interest in hobs, gobs, folk lore or the like. He was fascinated by contracts and laws and the like. I have a theory: the elder brother had children - daughters and each one of them was a mean little sorority queen. I reckon that they played with something and somehow, used the younger brother (the boring uncle) as collateral. I suspect that they aren't even aware that the boring uncle has changed. I doubt they have even noticed that the boring uncle has gotten even more reclusive or dull or strange than before...

"You seem to have resolved your anger better than I. I am still plotting my revenge."

[Gerrit]

Although he knew that trust wasn't purely transactional (and it certainly wasn't his intention to learn one of the Dwarf's secrets), Gerrit was somewhat glad about how Anatole reacted. It felt good to share. Correct. In turn he listened to the Autumn's story with sober interest. He dimly remembered hearing about his past life, years ago, but those details were new.

Being betrayed by your own family? Gerrit's lips pressed together tightly, a single stitched-together scar keeping in the first reflexive outbursts of pity or indignation. He cleared his throat and answered with an even, if strained, voice. "I sincerely hope that it hasn't happened like you suspect, but I think you're able to judge the situation better. Now," memories of driving an axe into Ram's Tobias' Fetch flashed through the Ogre's mind and he tensed up slightly, "If you ever decide to act on your plans - I promise to assist you in any way I can." Which probably posed the question just how well he had dealt with his anger.

[Anatole]

Anatole grunted.

Then the rest of the Onyx Courtier's words sank in.

Anger flashed across the dwarf's face briefly, replaced just as quickly by a mind numbing puzzlement - as if the Ogre had delivered him a sucker punch to the face. The Wizened's face began to slacken, then soften. A sound caught in his throat, unborn. He sighed, turned to look out of the window, chair creaking in agitation.

"Thank you."

Anatole said at last, stealing a sly glance at the Ogre across the table.

[Gerrit]

It was hard to read the many emotions shifting in Anatole's face - it was as if the Autumn-Mantle was not satisfied with flickering shadows anymore. Gerrit contented himself with taking the Dwarf at face value. His offer was genuine, and as long as Anatole got that there was no need to dig deeper into the Wizened's emotional response. Silence once again spread, the second book-end for this unexpected sharing.

Would he take the Ogre up on the offer? That remained to be seen. For now he had the feeling that between the few words that got exchanged tonight, something valuable had been shared. Vulnerability was shown and rewarded. And Gerrit knew that his sudden disappearance was not the grand bridge-burning he had worried about. He broke the stillness of those thoughts by reaching for his glass and emptying it. "Thank you for this. It is nice to know I'm still welcome here. I think I might call it a night. Still have some things to get in order." That wasn't exactly untrue, but the bigger reason for taking his leave was that it didn't feel right to dilute what was said with more small-talk. He fished out some money to pay for his water and put it on the table. "I hope to see you soon. It's almost spring, after all. And call me if you need anything."
He looked at Anatole again, making sure it was okay to leave right now, before getting up and putting on his jacket. "Take care, Anatole."

And with that the King of Sorrow went back to a new old home - an old burden left behind, a new secret learnt.

With only a few days left I thought it might be a good idea to wrap this up. Thanks for the scene!