EXCOLO

There are so many wonderful things dotting Silk Road in Excolo. And I don’t really have a reason to be walking this way. I have my list of duties for the day, all of which are complete and I should be heading home.

Only, my curiosity has gotten the better of me, and I find myself walking up to one of the bars in town. My walk is soft as is my breath as I reach the door to peak inside. My eyes are wide with interest as they take in the sight of the Tavern of Hell. It's loud and dark and utterly lovely.

I get pushed aside by patrons leaving, who give me a dark look as I jump away from the door. For a second I am frozen, what to do? I can go home, finish my work for the day and pray…or since I didn’t actually open the door on my own, not all the way anyway, I could just slip inside for a moment.

It really isn’t too much of a chore to skid passed the door before it closes, and suddenly I am standing, quite bemusedly in my robes, in The Tavern.

My heart races a little, and a smile that says I am most pleased with myself plays over my face. It doesn’t take me long find the box that is playing all the music, and marvel over it, and then walk the long way around a few tables to the bar.

I hop myself into a stool, and tuck my robes back away from me.

The Bartender asks what I will have and I look down to the man next to me, and try to discretely point at what he's drinking. After all, it seems harmless.

The bartender places it before me, and I try to watch what the sad looking man next to me and see what he plans on doing. I’ve had drinks before, ale, wine and the like; I’m not a novice to drinking. But I do finally turn my head toward him with a slight smile.

“How long do you suppose it should sit before we drink it?” My voice is as soft as the noise around us will allow.

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A young voice breaks into my thoughts and I hesitate a moment, then look to my left. There sits a blonde in robes, with a drink before her. A quick glance tells me it's the same as mine. What on God's green Earth...?

"I...I'm sorry?" I ask her. Perhaps I did not drink as much water as I should have. Or perhaps even the nuns in this town are crazy.

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He looks like I’ve startled him. I try not to laugh, since he does look extremely miserable, or did, before my talking has interrupted his thinking. I give him a polite look, deciding instantly that he seems, not only miserable…but has a quiet sort of face. Maybe it’s the white in his hair.

"I...I'm sorry?"

“Oh!” I lean toward him with an indulgent smile and try to speak a little louder.

“I was just wondering how long we were to let our drinks sit before consuming them? Seems like yours has been sitting there a while, and with the way you are staring at it so intently, I figured I should ask before I rudely tuck into mine. And perhaps I can ask you a question?” Already I’ve asked him quite a few.

“What is it we are drinking?”

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She speaks louder, as if I were deaf, and I smile a little. As I pointed out to Kate often, I am considerably older.

“What is it we are drinking?” she asks and I laugh.

"Whiskey neat," I tell her and set down my own before extending my hand. "I am Laurence, miss. Perhaps you could tell me what you're doing in a bar by yourself drinking a liquor you don't know and talking to a strange old man?" I ask in good humour.

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He laughs at my question, and my face lights up with the noise. Obviously he thinks I’m a wet behind the ears miss, and I’m sure I do come across that way, so I don’t begrudge him a bit of amusement at my expense.

"Whiskey neat,"

I try the name out on my lips after he says it; mimicking him like some small birds I’ve seen a time or two in my travels. The word has a nice fullness to it, and an abrupt end. A little like I’d imagine love would be like. I nod with approval at the drink he’s chosen.

He extends his hand toward me I take it in both of mine, my fingers just a bit cooler than his.

"I am Laurence, miss. Perhaps you could tell me what you're doing in a bar by yourself drinking liquor you don't know and talking to a strange old man?"

“Sister Julia.” I instantly reply, before correcting myself. “Julia.” Seeing as I am sitting in a bar, perhaps we can drop the first part.

“Well,” I have to think of how I can phrase the reasons I came down this way that doesn’t seem like I am trying to skip out on prayers or working.

“I’ve just finished my novitiate with the Abbey.” Might as well start at the beginning.

“And I’ve not been able to come down Silk Road yet, and it has changed a bit since I left, and I heard music this way, and looking inside, I didn’t really plan on coming in, but then really, I didn’t have a choice once the door was flung open.” The little smile on my lips says that perhaps not all of that is one hundred percent true.

“The bartender asked me what I would have, and I didn’t have any earthly idea, so I asked for what you were having. And you aren’t so strange, or that old.” I think I’ve answered all of the questions Laurence had.

“Can you do me a favor? And not mention this to the Deputy?” I give him a grin.

“Liam gets up in arms when I start talking to strangers. But really, we aren’t strangers anymore are we?” That is a comforting thought, and a nice loop hole.

“So why are you having a Whiskey neat?” I do have so many more questions, but I’ll start with the one that is most interesting. I don’t add the ‘and looking so sad,” at the end of it.

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She takes my hand in hers and I study that for a moment, just thinking of it. The feel of skin on skin and wishing it weren't this nun here, but her.

"Julia," I repeat and smile a bit, taking my hand back gently.

I listen to her story, nodding at the appropriate parts and place my elbow on the bar, temple against my fist, listening, until she ends with, “Can you do me a favor? And not mention this to the Deputy?” I sit up and look her over. One of the Linford boy's girls. Of course he got a nun. I can't get a thing from the owner of the general store, but a nun he gets. I correct the thought quickly, since after all I wasn't really after such things until that stupid dream, but not before I have my drink in my hand again.

“Liam gets up in arms when I start talking to strangers. But really, we aren’t strangers anymore are we?” she continues and I smile a little, eyes on my glass.

"'Guess not. Never would've pegged you for being 'round the deputy, miss," I muse.

“So why are you having a Whiskey neat?” she asks and my eyes go to her again. A brief thought crosses my mind where I wonder how easy she is, then it's gone. I return to her question, thinking and considering the drink again.

"Because I don't think there's much point in not. Not any more." And it's true. What have I been sober for? To what end? I catch a glimpse of myself, the image Nanshe showed me of beer bottles and the mess I was. It appears and then with a minute shake of my head, it's gone. I resolved not to let Kate see me like that, but I don't think that will be much of a problem.

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I feel a slight shift as soon as I mention Liam to him. And needless to say am a little uncomfortable with the way he instantly lets his eyes wander over me. And have to fight down the urge to frown.

"'Guess not. Never would've pegged you for being 'round the deputy, miss," Then he’s looking away from me and back at the drink and I feel like I’ve missed something.

“Oh, he wasn’t the deputy when I first started running around with him.” I assure Laurence, incase he thinks that I’m in trouble with the law. That is a terrible assumption, perhaps he thinks I’m hiding out?

Amusing as it is horrible.

“Actually, I don’t remember if he could even speak in full sentences then. Not that, has ever stopped him from being demanding.” I try to remember back that far for a moment.

“I’ve always had a sweet spot for him though; my momma says he has an angel’s face with the devil’s own mind. He just likes to look after me, I think. Make sure I’m not getting into any trouble except with him. Not the handcuffing kind of trouble, mind you. Though I’m sure Liam would like me under lock and key.” I laugh musing about my friend’s antics.

After a few moments of musing about Liam, we are back on the serious subject of drinking, and Laurence slips back into that sad shell he has.

"Because I don't think there's much point in not. Not any more."

I puzzle that out for a moment, and nod slowly.

“So, you’ve had a reason not to up until now?” I am just trying to get a grasp of the situation.

“What happened to it?”

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The conversation has since moved on, but I keep returning to what she's said. Demanding? Handcuffs? I raise an eyebrow and my lips quirk, but they remain shut.

“So, you’ve had a reason not to up until now? What happened to it?” she asks and I set the glass down and look at her again. I consider her a moment, wondering why she would care, why she doesn't just go back to her deputy's harem.

"It...disappeared," I say finally, then look at my glass again, untouched splash of alcohol in it. "'Left' is probably a better way of putting it."

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For all of my time spent at the abbey, I have seen this look in the faces of men before. Like I told Liam, everyone is looking for something. Needing something. I’ve seen people fill that need with all sorts of different things, with Liam its women, I have a feeling that with Laurence, it’s alcohol.

I feel sorry for him; I’ve found that faith is truest way to salve over those needs and doubts. Trusting in something higher and far more powerful than yourself.

He looks at me, as if he can’t figure out what I am about, all I can do is offer him a smile back. It’s in my nature to care, and so my heart squeezes a little for him, I don’t know what words to say that will right things for him. But perhaps he doesn’t need words; maybe he needs a kind ear?

"It...disappeared,"

That response seems vague to me, and I look down at the amber liquid myself.

“People have told me I’m nosy, but I don’t mean to be.” I confess to him and reach out rest the tips of my fingers on the hand that is cradling the glass.

“And if you don’t want to answer, please feel free to tell me. You won’t hurt my feelings.” I give him a smile.

“But reasons never disappear. Reasons only change. And we are blessed to be part of it.” I say, speaking a little more worldly than usual.

“And if you truly believed as you say, that the reason is gone. Then I think you may have already put that glass to work.” I get the feeling we are talking about someone and not something. But I don’t say anything yet on that subject.

“So when did your reasons change?”

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I purse my lips and look over at her. "Sister" Julia. Then I set down my glass and spin on my stool, placing arms on the bar and facing her fully, then side-step her question with one of my own.

"How old are you, Julia?"

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I don’t really know what happened. One minute we are talking and the next I get a flash from him, to me its abrupt annoyance. He spins and I almost fall off of the stool as I pull away my hand.

He ignores what I’ve just said, but looks none to pleased to have been asked it.

"How old are you, Julia?"

My eyebrows draw together as we face each other.

“Young enough to be intimidated when it’s asked like that, and old enough to not want to answer it.” I reply with a quiet frown, trying to figure out what exactly I’ve said to cause that look on his face.

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My lips move into a smile and a small laugh comes out. Julia is on edge and for once it's nice to not care one way or the other.

"If I answer yours, will you answer mine?" I ask, and then after a pause, I do it without really waiting for a response. "Around lunchtime, when my--" I still don't even know what to call her or say or anything, "--when she left me." I give a shrug and pick up my glass again, holding it up as if in a toast. "To better pairings," I say and swallow the whole serving.

Oh, it burns. It burns and stings and in a strange way it feels like home. A lonely, depressing home where everything I get's not really what I want but at least I forget the specifics of the world outside.

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I open my mouth to give a hesitant no, actually I have the feeling I may have gotten in over my head with this. I just wanted to respond with something nice, and here we are.

"Around lunchtime, when my--when she left me."

I give him a soft noise of understanding and nod, still wary of that smile of his and how he’s turned it on me. But he shrugs as I watch him motion the glass toward me, so I pick up my own.

"To better pairings,"

My eyes follow the disappearance of the liquid in his glass with a tinge of regret; I have the feeling that Nanse-Kam or any of the others at the Abbey would have done much better with this sad soul than I have.

It’s a most sobering and sad though, I put my own drink to my lips and even my nostrils burn from the smell. My eyes can’t help but widen as the liquid coats my mouth and scorches my throat; I even give a cough as I put down the glass on the bar with a shutter.

Horrible stuff, but it goes straight to my head.

“To better pairings,” I agree with his toast, my voice rough for a moment.

There is a small pause and I rub my throat before speaking again.

“I’m twenty six.”

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Discreetly I motion to the bartender for a glass of water for Julia.

"You feeling OK?" I ask gently as I move the glass to her hand. Twenty-six. Blonde. A pale comparison to Kate but enough that it's not lost on me. My throat burns a little with dryness and I swallow hard. "I'm...much older," I say with a laugh.

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I laugh and nod in his direction when he asks me if I’m alright, I even take a sip of the water he presses into my palms with a grateful look.

Whiskey neat. Nice sounding, havoc in a glass as well.

"I'm...much older,"

I give him a shrug and set back down the glass, not really knowing what age has anything to do with anything really. But I want to get back to friendlier conversation, so I go along.

“That’s alright, Laurence. I don’t mind.” My smile is sunnier now that he’s back to not rounding on me abruptly, I feel as though he needs to be watched, like a jungle cat in a cage, so I try not to let that reminder slip away.

“Nanshe, bless me but that stuff you drink is horrible.” I take another drink of the water, deciding to stick with that for the moment. I want to tell him I’m sorry about the girl he’s talking about, but don’t. A little afraid he’ll come at me again with that look of his.

“I don’t think I’ll be doing that again anytime soon.” This time there is a laugh from me, the fire down my throat is gone.

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The time for the duel is set. I am not at my most sociable, unsurprisingly; but I have been getting things in order. Practical things, in case... Well. I have to pop into the tavern briefly to borrow a few glasses. We had an incident earlier tonight that involved a patron being thrown against one of the shelves... Anyway. Thomas is helpful as usual, and I am planning to hurry home to Hermia, but I notice the oddest thing. Laurence the preacher, drinking - that is odd enough - but he's in the company of a nun. I know the Nansheans are a liberal lot, but...

"Good evening," I say to Laurence, thinking I should be polite, and I am curious.

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She says she doesn't mind, but then Kate did too. Maybe that's what ended up bothering her most in the end.

"Whiskey's an acquired taste," I assure Julia.

"Good evening," I hear and turn to find Valmont.

"Valmont," I say in greeting and motion for another drink from the bartender. "How are you doing?" I ask, knowing what the answer would likely be from someone preparing for a duel.

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"Oh, well enough," I say lightly, because that is a conversation I don't think I shall have with Laurence, nice though he is. "Do introduce me to your friend," I smile.

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It's fine that he does not wish to talk, but I wonder if Julia could make him as she has made me. I turn on the stool so that my back is temporarily to my drink and motion to Julia.

"This is Julia," I say a little brighter than I feel I should. "She's a nun," I add and look at her. "Nanshe, you said?" Then I reach behind me for my glass. "Interesting people you meet in bars. Oh! Julia, this is Valmont Laclos. He owns the Inn. I'm sorry, Julia, I don't recall your last name. Or was 'Julia' it? Sister Julia?"

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There is a short whirl of activity as someone Laurence knows walks up to him. The customary ‘how do you do’s’ are out of the way and I barely get my glass of water back to my mouth before the introductions are being made. I extend my hand to Valmont with a smile.

The sunny way that Laurence says I’m a nun makes me laugh, but it’s better to see him in higher spirits.

"Interesting people you meet in bars. Oh! Julia, this is Valmont Laclos. He owns the Inn. I'm sorry, Julia, I don't recall your last name. Or was 'Julia' it? Sister Julia?"

I never really thought of myself as someone anyone would meet in a bar, though I guess technically that is what I am now. I feel for a moment a bright stab of joy, of adventure and it makes me beam with pleasure.

“Sister Julia, before I took vows it was Julia Marshal.” I clarify, trying to be helpful.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Laclos. A few of our congregation have talked about The Whitechapel and the rooms there; I hear are beautiful since your remodeling.”

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Laurence is already affected by the alcohol; he's got a note of brightness in his voice I have heard in many men before. I wonder how long he has been here. And thinking on it, I don't think I have ever seen Laurence drink alcohol before. He always seems to choose the soft drinks at parties... Hm.

Sister Julia holds out her hand and I shake it. She has a bright, sunny look to her, and an easy charm as she says:

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Laclos. A few of our congregation have talked about The Whitechapel and the rooms there; I hear are beautiful since your remodeling.”

I smile back at her.

"Thank you. I think the place is getting rather nicer, although I would still not recommend it as a place for a quiet drink," I grin. "I just came to borrow some glasses," I say, gesturing to the box under my arm. "We ran short." No need to tell her how we've run short. "I don't think I've seen you in the tavern before, Laurence," I observe. "Hard day?"

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I pause a moment and look at him, then shake my head a little to clear it.

"You could say that," I tell him as if it doesn't matter even half as much as it does and consider begging him not to tell Kate, but she doesn't care so why should I? "Yeah." Don't know how to move the conversation on, get past that, so I just fight the frown that wants to come on and sit back, trying to show as much relaxation as I can.

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"You could say that," says Laurence, in the manner of someone trying not to sound unhappy. I sit down on the barstool next to him and put the box of glasses on the bar for the moment.

"Well," I say. "Having heard that tone a few times in my life, I would say that something has gone wrong, and usually if it sends a man to a bar he is unhappy in love, his work, or his philosophy." I have a feeling that either Laurence is having a crisis of faith, or little Miss O'Hara has up and left him. Not many things give a man quite that look, and I doubt working at the smithy is the cause.

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My lips twitch and my strength isn't enough to keep them from doing it, so I pick up my glass and take just a sip this time.

"One out of three is bad enough," I say with an ironic smile. "And only one of us was ever in love in the first place," I mutter to the whiskey, though I'm sure they can both hear it. I don't really care, anyway. People will figure it out soon enough, anyway. Gossip spreads like wildfire in this town. My heart squeezes painfully at the thought of her parting kiss, of her walking away from me and out the door. I deserved it. But it doesn't mean I have to remember it. With a simple motion, I tilt my head back and finish the second glass.

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I love over at Julia to see if she wants to intervene, but since she hardly knows Laurence, perhaps not.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I say, and truly I am. They seemed an unlikely pair, but no doubt a few of the town gossips were surprised when Hermia and I started seeing each other. "Love is a tricky thing," I say. I think having a few drinks in the immediate aftermath of a breakup seems like quite a sensible thing, but I am a little concerned about how long it's been since Laurence has had alcohol. For one thing, if he passes out, it would enormously difficult to get him home, seeing how big he is. "You should be careful," I say. "A couple of drinks can warm the heart, but too many usually end up making you feel sadder if you're sad already." I pat him on the shoulder.

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Valmont pats my shoulder and I laugh a little. He's trying to be helpful, yes, but he's not. 'Love is tricky?' What good is that nonsense? Am I not worthy of it, then, not intelligent or clever enough?

"I'm very familiar with its effects," I say and look over at him. "Thank you." There's a hesitation in my thoughts then, before I add, "I'd appreciate it is she didn't find out. She wouldn't like it," I explain even though the thought of her at all pains me greatly. I look over to Julia and wonder if I should ask the same favour. "God will provide, eh?" With a subtle movement I signal the bartender again.

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Ah, I recognise this stage of drunkenness. I don't believe Laurence and I will have much more of a useful conversation - he's feeling rather irritable. No doubt with good cause.

"I'd appreciate it is she didn't find out. She wouldn't like it," he says. I stand up and heft the box, putting it under my arm.

"I find," I say, "that if we're worried about someone we love finding out about something we're doing, it's probably not a good idea." I give him a shallow bow. "If you'll forgive the impertinence of that observation." I straighten up. "Good to meet you, Sister. I'd best get back to my inn."

"God will provide, eh?"

I'm not altogether sure I believe in Laurence's god, but I suppose he might exist as well as any other, so I simply say:

"I think God has usually already provided us with the means of our own salvation. It's up to us if we make use of them. Goodnight, Laurence, Julia."

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For a moment I sit and listen, trying to look any which way except for the two men by me. The longing to slide to the floor and away from this talk of heartache is almost overwhelming. I’m afraid that currently I’ve made everything worse, and can only give a half hearted smile as Valmont bids the two of us good night.

And Laurence gives the sign for drink three.

My lips part slightly to tell him to slow down, but seeing as he’s just heard the same from someone he knows far better than me I snap my mouth silent.

Blue eyes that I’ve seen so many times in the mirror glace toward the door, and then back at the companion I’ve tried to help. He seems easier now, but perhaps that isn’t the word, maybe the word I am looking for is sloppy.

It would be a lie to say I’m not worried about him. Maybe that’s why I stay instead of slipping out of the bar, like I want to. I don’t have anything to say really, so I just watch him with guarded eyes for several long seconds. He’s had his heart trampled on; there is no way I can leave him in this state…in this place.

“Laurence?” Finally my voice cuts the pause between us.

“Why don’t you let me take you home?” I give him a smile, since I am a stranger and currently am interrupting all of his plans. But this isn’t the place for him; he’d do better to sleep off tonight.

What is that saying?

‘Get it right today, and you may still be here tomorrow.’

I think that’s oddly fitting for Laurence at the moment.

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