Dorian Montoir
Finally returning a favour (to Katerina)
Sat Sep 29, 2018 09:41

OOC - abusing fuzzy time, this is set before the resolution thread but after DADA.

Finding a book to return Katerina's gesture of kindness was something that easily could have slipped Dorian's rather preoccupied mind, had it not been for the presence of the book she had leant him. He was steadily making his way through the book on the Byzantine and, when able to find the energy to be interested in anything, finding it to be very enjoyable. He suspected it helped that it was not a literary work, and that history was not that frequent a subject in his discussions with Jehan, so it offered more of a sense of escapism than most reading. In spite of that, any time something struck him as particularly interesting, his first thought was still how he wanted to share it with the boy who meant so much to him. Not that he couldn't do that - they were speaking again, and in some senses it was useful to have something that was not poetry, was not related to feelings, to discuss, because his own were still all over the place and potentially unwelcome. Which was why it was still hard, sometimes, to want to do very much of anything.

Still, now that he was no longer actively worried about running into Jehan, he could frequent the library again, and little though he felt like doing much, it would be rude to Katerina to neglect her.

It had been quite challenging to select a volume for her. The deal they had struck in Cascade Hall was to teach each other about their favourite subjects, and he had professed his to be philosophy, opting not to mention so much about poetry. Not that choosing poetry would probably have been any easier - simple poetry was often childish and he had no wish to patronise her. Plus poetry was for him and Jehan, and he had little wish to really share it. Thus the quest had been to find a simply worded philosophy text - something of an oxymoron. However, he had eventually found something that was really rather perfect. The Aphorisms of Confucius. It was a slim volume, but prettily bound, suitably grown up looking, and of course, deeply personal and appropriate to the giver. The sayings were plainly translated, simple bites of Chinese philosophy, but offered plenty of points for talking. He had mimicked Katerina's style, wrapping the book in tissue paper (or rather, in parchment which he had Tranfigured for the purpose - he was pretty sure that, even if Katerina took her time in returning to her room, such simple spells would last well beyond when they were needed) and writing her note, again in frustratingly simple but mindbendingly complex Russian.

Dear Katerina Vorontsova,

I got a book for you from the library. I hope you like it. I like your book. We can talk about them.

Same as your book - must to the library again after two weeks.

Following this last mess of a sentence, which he knew to be a complete disaster, he had signed the letter off in the manner that Tatya had taught him was appropriate for friends, and posted it to Katerina. He had to admit that bullying himself into doing some Russian homework had the advantage that he was distracted from the pain in his heart by that in his head. And he was rather tempted to go find Tatya and tell her that her alphabet was glupyy, and to have a break from all the boy drama, and just have some sibling time instead.

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