(no subject)

[lastgunslinger]

Roland has a favorite armchair downstairs. He also has one upstairs.

Right now he's sitting in it, smoking -- and thinking about Anthy, and what they can do. Of course Joe has to be off with that woman of his, and of course Moiraine and the Dream-lord are nowhere in sight.

And then there's Meg.

Roland's eyes narrow as he exhales. Smoke hovers over the pile of books on the end table, and dissipates.

Comments

[balletrat]

*Meg sighs and wonders unhappily to herself when storytime will be over.*

She tried to protect me. Parents do that. I wouldn't let her and she gave up.

[lastgunslinger]

"Can you blame her?"

A tight thread of sadness -- and anger, still -- is there.

[balletrat]

No.

Well. I did, then. I don't now.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland doesn't say anything for a long moment.

Then, softly: "We'll come back another time."

He holds out his arm to Meg, courteously. As though nothing in the world were wrong. As though nothing had changed.

He hasn't forgotten Anthy. But it's further back, now.

[balletrat]

*Meg glances up at him, and hesitates a moment.

And then takes his arm, and turns around, and heads away from the street of financiers and the wealthy elite of Paris.*

[lastgunslinger]

It's hard to let the person holding onto your arm lead you, but he does it, and if he sees Paris in another light now and if it maybe hurts a bit -- they're walking, aren't they? and so Roland hides what he is thinking.

[balletrat]

*Meg is not paying much attention to where she is going, lost in her own thoughts.

So it is only when they have already crossed back over the bridge across the Seine that she starts.*

Oh, merde - I left, I dropped my bag -

wait here, Roland, all right?

*She disengages her arm, gently, and turns and starts to dart back the way they've come.*

[lastgunslinger]

Roland waits, watching her with slightly narrowed eyes.

Hands in his pockets.

He picks up a bullet and runs his fingers over the contours, worrying it gently.

[balletrat]

*Meg is not paying attention to where she is going. At all.

This is kind of a problem when a small running person accidentally misses the bridge.*

[lastgunslinger]

And without a second thought --

Or.

He takes off his jacket, knocks his hat from his head, and makes sure his gun is secured in its holster -- and then he goes in after her.

[balletrat]

*Maybe all those swimming lessons came in handy after all. At least her head is above water.

Well, most of the time; she's swallowed a few gulps, enormously, but at least she can breathe through her nose.

Vaguely, she approves of Roland saving the top hat.*

[lastgunslinger]

Roland can swim, too. He hauls her out, and carries her up the bank. They're both soaked.

The reason why he took off his jacket is now apparent, as she is a drowned rat, and the jacket is dry.

The gunslinger is now kneeling next to her, and he puts the jacket around her shoulders, and looks closely at her. "You all right?"

[balletrat]

*Meg coughs out some water, and lets her head thump back on the grass.*

Feeling, *she says wryly, sounding far more like herself,* like a total idiot. Otherwise, yes.


Thanks.

[lastgunslinger]

"Still want your bag? I can go get it."

[balletrat]

*Meg pushes herself to her feet, wrapping the jacket around herself a little; it is, after all, cold in Paris.*

It's okay, I'll get it - I swear I won't fall in the water this time -

[lastgunslinger]

Roland picks up his top hat, and checks on his gun -- he'll need to clean it, and soon -- and then stands as well.

He follows her, and lets her fetch it without aid. Some things are necessary in order to maintain one's dignity. Roland understands this.

[balletrat]

*They make it across the river and back again without incident, and with, unusual for Meg, very little speech.

She's had enough storytelling, today.*

[lastgunslinger]

Roland is comfortable with silence.

They wind their way back through the streets, finally coming to the door in the alley.

Roland turns to Meg, and waits.

[balletrat]

*Meg opens the door, and holds it open for him.*

I'm not staying here, tonight, *she says, briefly.*

[lastgunslinger]

Without a word, Roland goes through, and then turns to see her through, slipping out of his rigged-up shoulder holster as he does.

All the bullets are now useless. But with the bar around, that's all right.

[balletrat]

*Meg follows him in, and then looks at Roland.

Her voice is quiet.*

I still wish you didn't know.

*She turns to go upstairs.*

[lastgunslinger]

Equally quiet, but with force all the same. "Will you look on me, Meg?"

[balletrat]

*Obediently, Meg turns around.*

[lastgunslinger]

He thought he knew what he would say. Now he realizes that what he would say would be inadequate. Would be wrong.

So instead he says, gunslinger to dancer, "What's done can't be undone. So I know. It changes nothing."

None of the important things, anyhow.

[balletrat]

No, *Meg agrees quietly.*

Can't be undone.