merry_heart | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's a long, long way to the very, very top of the Northwest Tower, but that's where Francis has been staying lately.

(Susan named him Francis. She thinks it suits him.)

She tugs a little on X's hand as they make their way down corridors and up stairs and down more corridors.

"When we get there," she says, as they turn a corner and are almost to the bottom of the stairs, "you have to pretend to be scared. Otherwise, you'll hurt his feelings.

"He's trying to be scary.

"He's just not very good at it yet."

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Susan smiles encouragingly at Francis.

"I think you're a little confused. But it's okay. Everyone is a little confused sometimes."

Except maybe Norman.

Or Papa.

"Really? Only I've found that most people around me tend to be very certain of what they want. Are you absolutely certain you're confused sometimes? Maybe we're talking about different things. And it is easier with only one choice. Hmm. Something to think about."

He starts again, as if he just remembered that he was not alone.

"Were you here looking for tea? Only I thought we were talking about tea. Did I let it go cold, do you know?"

"People are confusing," X says.

It is like agreement.

And in that vein --

"We did not bring any tea."

"It's not time for tea, anyway," Susan says. "So it's all right that there isn't any."

Francis doesn't need to worry.

"And X is right. People are very confusing."

She considers him for a moment.

"Maybe you need a cat."

He's probably too much on his own.

"There are mousers," X says.

It is likely that she pays attention, plus she likes cats.

"In the stables. I do not know if any of them have fleas."

"Oh dear me, are there mice in this tower? I can feel them running over my feet! I can -- Oh. Oh, silly me, no. There's nothing there. But I could have sworn -- "

Francis shakes his head, pacing between X and Susan like someone who has made pacing a competitive sport.

"A cat, you said? Are you certain your Royal Mama would allow it? Only company would be nice. Except would I have to feed it? Forget my own head if it wasn't -- attached. That's what mother always said. Or did she? I can't quite remember."

"I will ask Mama," Susan says, decidedly. "And I'll help you remember to feed it. Maybe we can get one of the pages to help, too."

That's what pages are for, right?

"He'd have to be very brave, because of the haunting, but we must have at least one who is very brave."

They want to be knights, after all. Knights are supposed to be brave.

"Then you wouldn't have to worry about mice in the tower. The cat could catch them."

"I like cats," X offers, matter-of-factly.

"I have two."

Beat.

"And my apartment does not have mice."

It's like an endorsement, of sorts.

(And she certainly plans to help choose the page who will aid in keeping the cat fed. Just in case.)

"A page?"

Here the ghost looks taken aback, one hand coming up to cover his mouth.

"Are you sure they wouldn't be too afraid to come here? Only I feel as if they should be. Am I not doing my job?"

And now Francis is back to distraught.

"I did so hope to make the Queen pleased with my performance. Though perhaps it's better if they are not too terrified. It speeds up the errand running. Or at least it did for me. Not that I was a page, you understand. But I did get asked to pass messages back and forth."

Here he frowns.

"Or was that someone else? Oh, bother."

"That is why we shall pick a very, very brave one. It will be like a test. Of bravery. For him."

Because sometimes, you really do have to spell things out for Francis.

"It could be a test of bravery. For several."

Having dealt with children in the approximate page age-range, X is fairly certain that visiting the ghost in the tower will eventually be a way to prove one's mettle.

Children are predictable that way.

"That way they will not have to sneak. Up here."

"Oh, but. But surely they won't all come at once."

He wrings his hands again.

"And here I go again. Oh, I don't want to be a burden."

"Don't worry," Susan says soothingly.

"We'll take care of it.

"It'll be fine."

"Yes," X agrees.

"And then you will have company."

Beat.

"It will be -- "

It takes her a moment to find the appropriate innocuous word.

" -- good."

"Well, if you're sure."

He might not mean to give them a beseeching look, but that is what happens.

Company really would be lovely.

And anything he does not have to arrange himself is probably for the best.

"But that doesn't mean you'll stop visiting me, does it? Only you're lovely company. When you can be spared, of course. From your -- do you have duties?"

"Of course," Susan says. "I'm the Princess Royal."

She hears a lot about duty, so she must have some.

"But I make time for my friends. Just like Mama.

"We'll visit," she says, blithely committing X to this course.

. . . X doesn't mind, right?

"Yes," X agrees, hard on the heels of Susan's comment.

"We will."

Maybe X will even learn how to successfully feign fear when she is not on a mission.

Eventually.

Probably not.

"Oh good."

Francis sounds unutterably relieved.

And then, somewhat stymied for what to do next, he gets back to pacing.

At least he seems somewhat less frenetic, this time?

"I think it is time for tea now," Susan says grandly.

"X and I will send for it."

"I do not think it will take long," X confirms.

And maybe, in deference to Francis' incorporeality, they can forgo the feather boas.

This time.

"Oh, that will be lovely," Francis says, clasping his hand together in what, for him, are paroxysms of joy.

He has missed tea, so very much.

And maybe they will let him keep the cup and saucer for a while.

It will be a comfort.

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