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Entry tags:
fic: Most Agreeable
Title: Most Agreeable
Series: Neverwhere
Character/Pairing: Marquis de Carabas, Richard. Preslash. Also Door.
Rating: PG? PG-13?
Word count
Summary: 1268
Author's note: part of the Good Enough ficverse.
"There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the dependence that can be placed on the appearance of either merit or sense."
Pride and Prejudice
*
The Marquis lifted a brow. Door had been here recently, he could smell her on the air. He looked
around, but saw no trace of her. The camp was still in a bit of disarray. Richard had managed a tent for them on the most preposterous of terms. A tent for simply a kiss from the
Upworlder? She was apparently too shy to ask for a night with him, which Richard himself would be too shy for as well. They couldn't afford a favor that big, anyways. There likely wasn't something you could get Richard Mayhew to pay with his body for – save for perhaps, saving his life. And the Marquis de Carabas had a monopoly on saving Richard's life. In fact, just the other day there'd been a bone in that Starling stew, and he'd had to preform the Heimlich maneuver and added yet another Big Favor to his list.
Richard was wrapped in a bundle of blankets – Now neither of them were fond of the cold, the Marquis even less so than Richard. In his hand was propped a paperback of some kind which he had only just put down at his approach. The Marquis de Carabas couldn't quite catch the title from this distance.
"She said to tell you 'Hi.' she didn't have time but to give me something."
"And I take it she wasn't in any danger?"
"No, just a hurry," Richard answered. "She had a thing...A lead..." he trailed off and made some motion with his left hand to convey something, but the Marquis had already lost interest. If there was no profit to be made in it, thus he was hardly going to ask how her jam and tea was this morning.
The Marquis de Carabas was always on the look out for favors, especially when it came to her clan. He already had one packed away for a rainy day but he was always willing to add more to the list. One could never have too many favors from a clan of that could open any door you wished.
"Hers?" The Marquis said, nodding towards the paperback.
"Yes. Before she said I had to read it when she realized I hadn't. There wasn't time then, obviously."
"Obviously. And what did you pay for that?" The Marquis said. He was always keenly interested in what Richard had bartered, if only because Richard was one who could very easily get swindled. His Upworlder ways tended to make him disregard things which he could get much more for. Some kind people added more to make up the use of a pen, or errant matchbook. More gave him half of what such a valuable thing was worth.
"She didn't charge me," Richard said. "We're friends. Besides, it's more a loan than really giving it to me.. She said she has a whole lot of books locked away in some cache and that I'm welcome to borrow them. Though she'd have to be the one to get me there."
"Does she now?" De Carabas said. Paperbacks did not interest him much. There was too much stillness involved. He wasn't entirely opposed to being read to, however, but he would have to be very tired and near sleep before he'd submit to it.
"You're fond of it, I take?"
"It's called a classic for a reason. I didn't think I would, but it's rather...addictive."
That night, while Richard was asleep, the Marquis slipped a peek between the covers of the book. He'd never let Richard see that he might actually care to what he was interested in. De Carabas scrunched up his nose after a few pages of very agreeable conversations, alacrity, teas, balls, and lack of anything nearing erotica. So the Marquis set himself back to being disinterested. Taste was a personal thing, and he wasn't about to begrudged Richard his, even if it baffled him.
*
The Marquis thought nothing more of the books Richard had taken to reading whenever possible, other than to shake his head and agree to not comprehend why Richard had suddenly seemingly fallen in love with this author. It wasn't as if Richard had taken to dice or wasting things that could be bartered, so he made no complaint. Still, it was a little mystifying and yet quite amusing. Someone was certainly getting in touch with his feminine side.
And then came the worst, the part where he had to really hold back to keep his brow-rasing confusion at bay – when they they formed a book club in his camp. A book club about Jane Austen.
He supposed it was good to see Door looking a little less worried for once. Not that he particularly cared about her well-being, but she looked better when she was smiling. He whittled away at a bit of wood while they sat together, talking about books they had read.
"Henry Crawford is too nice to be a villain, I think. All I got from him was that he felt immature and a bit vain," Richard said.
"Are you the type who wished him to go off with Fanny?"
"Well, not entirely. He never struck me as a villain, though. He was too...forgivable, I guess is the word."
"He was too charming to hate?" Door asked, with a trace of amusement.
"That too," Richard admitted.
"So," Door said, nudging him and sneaking a glance at de Carabas, "Which is he most like, do you think?"
The Marquis stayed with what he was whittling. However, upon realizing he was being talked about, his ears pricked up.
"Mr. Elliot I think. But with a nicer streak."
"If you're talking about me, I hope you aren't insulting me by attributing me some kindness. It's bad for my image," De Carabas said without looking up.
Door smiled. "Guilty as charged. Richard here seems to think that deep down you're a good person. The type who secretly snuggles kittens and only wears a mask to keep the world from his sensitive soul."
He stared pointedly at Richard.
"I didn't say that, not in so many words, no. But you did save my life," Richard protested. "And you share food with me."
"Which I charged you for – and I charge you for that too. It's hardly charity."
"He never could quite say how utterly dodgy you are. He was always going 'well, maybe a little bit dodgy.' like he was apologizing for you," Door said with a certain trace of amused smugness.
Richard looked a mite bit uncomfortable. He shifted under their gaze. "Well, he's not that bad."
"Oh Richard, you're hopeless," Door said. She sounded brighter than she had in a while, and was almost close to smiling. And yet, there was a quality that made her sound old beyond her years. Almost as if she was about to tell Richard that he'd understand when he was older.
The Marquis returned to his whittling. Still, he kept one ear open and alert. Just in case.
Series: Neverwhere
Character/Pairing: Marquis de Carabas, Richard. Preslash. Also Door.
Rating: PG? PG-13?
Word count
Summary: 1268
Author's note: part of the Good Enough ficverse.
Pride and Prejudice
*
The Marquis lifted a brow. Door had been here recently, he could smell her on the air. He looked
around, but saw no trace of her. The camp was still in a bit of disarray. Richard had managed a tent for them on the most preposterous of terms. A tent for simply a kiss from the
Upworlder? She was apparently too shy to ask for a night with him, which Richard himself would be too shy for as well. They couldn't afford a favor that big, anyways. There likely wasn't something you could get Richard Mayhew to pay with his body for – save for perhaps, saving his life. And the Marquis de Carabas had a monopoly on saving Richard's life. In fact, just the other day there'd been a bone in that Starling stew, and he'd had to preform the Heimlich maneuver and added yet another Big Favor to his list.
Richard was wrapped in a bundle of blankets – Now neither of them were fond of the cold, the Marquis even less so than Richard. In his hand was propped a paperback of some kind which he had only just put down at his approach. The Marquis de Carabas couldn't quite catch the title from this distance.
"She said to tell you 'Hi.' she didn't have time but to give me something."
"And I take it she wasn't in any danger?"
"No, just a hurry," Richard answered. "She had a thing...A lead..." he trailed off and made some motion with his left hand to convey something, but the Marquis had already lost interest. If there was no profit to be made in it, thus he was hardly going to ask how her jam and tea was this morning.
The Marquis de Carabas was always on the look out for favors, especially when it came to her clan. He already had one packed away for a rainy day but he was always willing to add more to the list. One could never have too many favors from a clan of that could open any door you wished.
"Hers?" The Marquis said, nodding towards the paperback.
"Yes. Before she said I had to read it when she realized I hadn't. There wasn't time then, obviously."
"Obviously. And what did you pay for that?" The Marquis said. He was always keenly interested in what Richard had bartered, if only because Richard was one who could very easily get swindled. His Upworlder ways tended to make him disregard things which he could get much more for. Some kind people added more to make up the use of a pen, or errant matchbook. More gave him half of what such a valuable thing was worth.
"She didn't charge me," Richard said. "We're friends. Besides, it's more a loan than really giving it to me.. She said she has a whole lot of books locked away in some cache and that I'm welcome to borrow them. Though she'd have to be the one to get me there."
"Does she now?" De Carabas said. Paperbacks did not interest him much. There was too much stillness involved. He wasn't entirely opposed to being read to, however, but he would have to be very tired and near sleep before he'd submit to it.
"You're fond of it, I take?"
"It's called a classic for a reason. I didn't think I would, but it's rather...addictive."
That night, while Richard was asleep, the Marquis slipped a peek between the covers of the book. He'd never let Richard see that he might actually care to what he was interested in. De Carabas scrunched up his nose after a few pages of very agreeable conversations, alacrity, teas, balls, and lack of anything nearing erotica. So the Marquis set himself back to being disinterested. Taste was a personal thing, and he wasn't about to begrudged Richard his, even if it baffled him.
*
The Marquis thought nothing more of the books Richard had taken to reading whenever possible, other than to shake his head and agree to not comprehend why Richard had suddenly seemingly fallen in love with this author. It wasn't as if Richard had taken to dice or wasting things that could be bartered, so he made no complaint. Still, it was a little mystifying and yet quite amusing. Someone was certainly getting in touch with his feminine side.
And then came the worst, the part where he had to really hold back to keep his brow-rasing confusion at bay – when they they formed a book club in his camp. A book club about Jane Austen.
He supposed it was good to see Door looking a little less worried for once. Not that he particularly cared about her well-being, but she looked better when she was smiling. He whittled away at a bit of wood while they sat together, talking about books they had read.
"Henry Crawford is too nice to be a villain, I think. All I got from him was that he felt immature and a bit vain," Richard said.
"Are you the type who wished him to go off with Fanny?"
"Well, not entirely. He never struck me as a villain, though. He was too...forgivable, I guess is the word."
"He was too charming to hate?" Door asked, with a trace of amusement.
"That too," Richard admitted.
"So," Door said, nudging him and sneaking a glance at de Carabas, "Which is he most like, do you think?"
The Marquis stayed with what he was whittling. However, upon realizing he was being talked about, his ears pricked up.
"Mr. Elliot I think. But with a nicer streak."
"If you're talking about me, I hope you aren't insulting me by attributing me some kindness. It's bad for my image," De Carabas said without looking up.
Door smiled. "Guilty as charged. Richard here seems to think that deep down you're a good person. The type who secretly snuggles kittens and only wears a mask to keep the world from his sensitive soul."
He stared pointedly at Richard.
"I didn't say that, not in so many words, no. But you did save my life," Richard protested. "And you share food with me."
"Which I charged you for – and I charge you for that too. It's hardly charity."
"He never could quite say how utterly dodgy you are. He was always going 'well, maybe a little bit dodgy.' like he was apologizing for you," Door said with a certain trace of amused smugness.
Richard looked a mite bit uncomfortable. He shifted under their gaze. "Well, he's not that bad."
"Oh Richard, you're hopeless," Door said. She sounded brighter than she had in a while, and was almost close to smiling. And yet, there was a quality that made her sound old beyond her years. Almost as if she was about to tell Richard that he'd understand when he was older.
The Marquis returned to his whittling. Still, he kept one ear open and alert. Just in case.