adifferentlife: (content)
[personal profile] adifferentlife
For a short while Sybil had wondered if she'd even be able to leave her apartment on the Christmas Eve, the snow coming in droves the day before. But it had tapered off through the night, and on the 24th the roads and footpaths were all clear of it. She'd bundled up to meet Henri at the Soup Kitchen, their time there passing quickly. A few hours of ladeling soup, serving up rolls, and handing over baskets of canned goods and gifts for the children, and she honestly felt as if she'd done something to help those who needed it. It wasn't enough, the simple giving of food only a bandage on the wound. But it was what they could manage today, though she finds herself more determined to contribute more to Darrow in the coming year.

It's perhaps an appropriate mood for going to mass. She's never been to a Catholic Church before, and it seems rather disappointing in the end. In English just as any service she was used to, but with a dreadful number of candles it seems to her. Overall she finds lttle different, refusing communion as the entire idea of transubstantiation seems suspect, but enjoyable nontheless. It's nicer to have Henri to share it with, even if he seems somber at some points of the night.

When they leave it's nearly one in the morning, truly Christmas day. It's snowing again and as she slips her arm through his offered one, Sybil looks up to him contentedly. "Happy Christmas."

Date: 2013-12-23 02:09 am (UTC)
jaimemieux: (Default)
From: [personal profile] jaimemieux
Where had he been last Christmas? Combeferre recalled the warm light of the Musain, a bit too much wine, gathered friends. The bells of Notre Dame had rung, and Prouvaire had quoted something sad - Ecclesiastes, probably - and Bahorel had ruined the moment with a lewd joke. Even Enjolras had looked content, and they had all go home thinking not of revolution, but of friendship, and chosen family.

Natural, he supposed, to think about absent friends at a time like this. They had said farewell to Jehan at the church (thank goodness for Jehan - for coming along and making him feel a little less foolish about his Christmas plans, for knowing exactly the moment to turn towards home and leave them to walk together) and he, too, had fallen into a comfortable, thoughtful silence. When the snow started to fall, he tipped his head up, and then turned to her with a soft smile." Joyeux Noel,” he murmured. “Did you enjoy mass?”

The experience had been odd for him, but he kept his thoughts to himself for now.

Date: 2013-12-24 04:02 am (UTC)
jaimemieux: (Why not wait for dawn?)
From: [personal profile] jaimemieux
"As a rule, I think men care much more about the particularities than God, yes," Combeferre said, half to himself and with a rueful smile. He was silent for a long moment, thoughtful again. "The mass was not quite what I expected." It had been softer, somehow, easier - in English, with muted ceremony, and an easy message of goodwill and family togetherness. "But- can we really complain? The Church has always shown its worst colors when it has refused change, and turned its back on the course of Progress. But if one demands that clergy adapt, one should not be so surprised by the result."

He shook his head a little, reddening. "I am very sorry. I'm getting too philosophical."

Date: 2013-12-25 05:03 am (UTC)
jaimemieux: (learned purist precise)
From: [personal profile] jaimemieux
Combeferre had to smile, ducking his head. “You do indulge me so.” He gave a thoughtful sigh. “The Church has done so much damage over the years. It has sheltered the wicked, traded in hypocrisy, committed acts of downright cruelty. But I suppose it has never quite lost its hold on me. Even in English, it seems. I hadn’t really expected that.”

He chuckled. “Oh dear. Well, I shall do my best to keep the secret, if you can do the same."

Date: 2013-12-27 04:38 am (UTC)
jaimemieux: (Default)
From: [personal profile] jaimemieux
Combeferre hummed softly and held her a little closer. Indulgent or no, Sybil had a way of thoughtfully bringing him back to earth that he already cherished. Combeferre was no Voltaire, with his gleeful mocking of the Divine, and certainly no Robspierre, with all his hated and fear of the Church. He felt the push and pull of faith and reason keenly, and had ultimately planted his flag on Reason’s shore. But faith had a pull of its own - and was that so very terrible?

He knew next to nothing about Sybil’s grandmother, but had no difficulty in conjuring up the image of an angry titled matriarch. “I swear it,” he chuckled. “She will not know that I have dragged you into papistry - at least not from my lips."

Date: 2013-12-30 04:14 am (UTC)
jaimemieux: (pic#7178224)
From: [personal profile] jaimemieux
“Oh-“ Combeferre blushed a little, remembering the small gift in his own pocket - a box in which rested a pendant made from a deep blue stone, which though simple, had immediately reminded him of her. “Yes- I would like that very much. I have something for you, in fact."

Date: 2014-01-01 08:48 pm (UTC)
jaimemieux: (Default)
From: [personal profile] jaimemieux
“A wonderful proposition,” Combeferre said with a warm smile, glad for the opportunity to stay in Sybil’s company a little longer. All the same, he told himself that he should not overstay his welcome. He had a feeling that lingering too long was another thing that would be considered improper in Sybil’s world.

Date: 2014-01-02 03:08 am (UTC)
jaimemieux: (Default)
From: [personal profile] jaimemieux
Henri gestured for Sybil to lead the way into the building, a smile playing at his lips. His hand went to his coat pocket where the jewelry box was stashed, and he fiddled with it as he followed her into her apartment.

Date: 2014-01-02 04:21 am (UTC)
jaimemieux: (Default)
From: [personal profile] jaimemieux
Grinning softly at the anxious sweetness on her face, he set down his glass and took the box from her. The smile only grew when he undid the ribbon and raised the box lid. “Sybil. It’s wonderful” He laughed a little, taking it out of the box and holding it up. “Papilio glaucus. You remembered."

Date: 2014-01-02 04:38 am (UTC)
jaimemieux: (Default)
From: [personal profile] jaimemieux
“It’s exquisite. My only regret is that I could never mount a butterfly so well.” He grinned crookedly at her. “Where did you find it?"

Date: 2014-01-02 11:29 pm (UTC)
jaimemieux: (Default)
From: [personal profile] jaimemieux
“Quite remarkable what you can find in hidden places.” Combeferre set down the gift and leaned over to kiss her, cupping her cheek gently. “Thank you, cherie."

Date: 2014-01-03 02:58 am (UTC)
jaimemieux: (He lived the life of the world generally)
From: [personal profile] jaimemieux
Henri blushed, ducking his head slightly to press his forehead to Sybil’s, his hand slipping to the back of her neck. “Et joyeaux Noel.” A soft smile curved at his lips. “I have something for you as well."

Date: 2014-01-03 04:13 am (UTC)
jaimemieux: (He lived the life of the world generally)
From: [personal profile] jaimemieux
Her obvious delight made Combeferre chuckle softly. “Of course. Here-“ He took the jewelry box out of his pocket and placed it in her waiting hands. “I hope it suits.” The necklace inside was really quite simple, but there was an elegance to the simplicity that he hoped Sybil would like.

Date: 2014-01-03 12:58 pm (UTC)
jaimemieux: (Default)
From: [personal profile] jaimemieux
Combeferre nodded, taking the chain from her. His fingertips were warm against the back of her neck. “Et voila,” he murmured, and pulled back with a fond smile. “Beautiful."

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adifferentlife: (Default)
Sybil Crawley

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