Horsing around

[wings_of_a_swan]

Combeferre pokes his head into Duncan's stable. He has a small tablet attached to a small speaker. He carries all this equipment without difficulty--everything is small and not heavy--but with a certain tentativeness, like he's scared he might break something.

He's still not clear on who named the horse Duncan. He doesn't think it was Feuilly. But...Feuilly's been spending some time here, and Combeferre became curious about one or two horsey questions.

The place does look rather lived in. By a human. There's a cot-like thing. Feuilly must have been here more often than Combeferre thought.

Combeferre walks up to Duncan and starts petting his nose.

Comments

[wings_of_a_swan]

Combeferre snorts. "Ah, yes, I knew you for a great statesman and philosopher the moment you opened your mouth..."

What is he doing? Trading insults with an English knight? This is futile.

"And now, if you've no more pleasantries to offer me, I'll return to my work."

He turns back to his tablet and turns it on, frowning at the screen and trying to open the music-playing program...thing.

[harryhotspur]

Harry probably wouldn't have been content to leave it at that anyway, but when he sees Combeferre start fiddling around with the tablet, he quickly interposes himself between Combeferre and the stall door.

"What make you here?" he asks. "I like not the look of that-- thing."

[wings_of_a_swan]

"I'm only using it to play music and other sounds." Must Combeferre now explain 21st century technology to an ill-mannered medieval English knight?

He adds, with a certain malicious gentleness, "You needn't be afraid of it."

[harryhotspur]

"I fear not for myself, I promise you," he replies with rather more aggressive sarcasm. "But I will not have you fright the horses for no cause."

[wings_of_a_swan]

The concern for the horse is almost likable.

"I'm not," says Combeferre. "I'm just playing some soft music to observe how the horse reacts. It's an experiment I've read of in a book, and it will do no harm."

He almost adds a sarcastic aside about how Percy's concern for his fellow dumb beast is admirable, but he bites his tongue.

[harryhotspur]

"I will spare your labor," Harry says flatly. "He will care not. He is a horse."

[wings_of_a_swan]

"So I noticed. Why don't you leave me to my labor, then, however useless you think it? Unless you want the pleasure of my company."

[harryhotspur]

"Because I would not have you scare him," Harry snaps. "For if you fright him whiles he is in the stall, it may be he will hurt himself."

[wings_of_a_swan]

Combeferre counts to three and takes a breath. Then another breath. Then a third.

"I'm bringing him out of the stall," he says, when his patience is restored. Somewhat restored, anyway.

Combeferre finishes opening up the program he wants on the tablet. He turns back to Duncan, who seems by far the more pleasant and intelligent of Combeferre's two companions. Opening the stall door, Combeferre stands quietly for a few moments, letting Duncan sniff and nuzzle him and get used to his presence. He fishes the carrot he brought out of his pocket and gives it to Duncan, who eats it eagerly.

Then Combeferre finds a lead rope, fits it round Duncan, and leads him out of the stall, all the while ignoring Percy.

[harryhotspur]

...right. Right, well. Right.

But Hotspur is annoyed, and therefore certainly cannot let this go so easily. Which is to say, he follows Combeferre and Duncan out to the paddock.

[wings_of_a_swan]

Combeferre pulls a small silver stick--the remote--out of his pocket as he leads Duncan out. He knows this isn't really very scientific. But he wanted to try it out after he read it in that veterinary science book.

He leads Duncan in slow, ambling circles, in total silence, for a few minutes.

Then he points the remote at the tablet in the stable, and--after some increasingly frantic and exasperated button-pressing--it works! The tablet begins to play music. Specifically, Pachelbel's Canon.

Combeferre continues to lead Duncan in circles, keeping an eye on how the horse walks, and then--Combeferre grins. As the music speeds up, Duncan begins to trot gently in time to it.

Combeferre presses the remote button again, whereupon some loud rock music starts playing. Duncan stops short, puts his ears back, and refuses to budge. Taking the hint, Combeferre switches back to Pachelbel.

[harryhotspur]

"Ay, see!" Hotspur protests, nearly falling off his perch on the fence in his haste to jump to the ground and cross to Combeferre's side. "He likes it not, now let him be."

[wings_of_a_swan]

Duncan, after a neigh of protest and a moment or two of standing stock-still, begins to move again when Pachelbel plays, trotting along in apparent contentment.

Combeferre turns to Percy. He doesn't say "I told you so," but his face might just say it for him.

"I would not harm him," Combeferre says instead.

He's annoyed, but he's also amused. This may be Shakespeare's Hotspur--Combeferre makes a note to talk to Prouvaire and find out for sure--who Combeferre gathers is a very heroic sort of character. Hotspur, defender of innocent horses against cruel Frenchmen. It sounds like a tale an English poet might tell.

[harryhotspur]

"Well-- very well, then," Harry snaps, though it's just the last sparks of irritation that now has no good outlet. He folds his arms over his chest. "If y'are sure of it."

[wings_of_a_swan]

Combeferre sighs. Does he have to do this with an English knight glaring at him the whole time?

"I am, and if he mislikes anything I'll stop. You're free, of course, to stay and watch--only I pray you, don't stand there glowering like a gargoyle. Come, Percy--I was discourteous when you first arrived, for which I ask your pardon. But if you're friends with Feuilly and Enjolras, I know of no reason why we should quarrel."

...he doesn't fully believe this. Feuilly is a deeply kind and generous man, and so is Enjolras in his own single-minded way. Both men possess a remarkable tolerance for annoying foibles. But Combeferre believes in civilization, which relies on some polite half-truths.

[harryhotspur]

--ugh, right. Hotspur wants to believe that a friend's friend is his friend... but he didn't know before that Enjolras and Feuilly had so many friends. And that some of them would be... not (at least as far as Hotspur can see) very much like the two of them at all.

"No, nor I," he agrees grudgingly. "You had no better welcome from me, and I crave your pardon also."

He offers a hand. See! He can be good!

[wings_of_a_swan]

Combeferre shakes his hand with a half-smile. He's being good too! "We may pardon each other, then, and forget this--for our friends would no doubt think us fools for squabbling."

[harryhotspur]

"No doubt," he agrees, and he does mean that, at least. He's been called a fool for less, after all.

"I will leave you, then, to Duncan's company," he says. He did consider staying, of course, just to prove that he could, but the attendant boredom doesn't seem worth the minor victory.

[wings_of_a_swan]

Combeferre nods. "Farewell, then."

[harryhotspur]

Hotspur starts to go-- then bounds back over to Duncan to give him a last pat and murmur something in his ear. Then he goes, with a last nod to Combeferre.