pontmercyfriend | Before the world dies at my door, I'll break the sky.

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courfeyrac

Before the world dies at my door, I'll break the sky.

Somehow, Marius gets it in his head that he wants to venture out horseback riding. If he's honest with himself, he doesn't know where this urge comes from, but having a rare Friday off, he finds himself indulging said urge. And as it has proven a criminal amount of time since he's last had an adventure with his best friend, Marius invites Courfeyrac along without a second thought.

He waits for his friend at the stables, watching the instructor, a lovely young woman that will, no doubt, appeal to Courfeyrac's tendency to flirt with every attractive woman he happens upon, as she grooms one of the seemingly younger mares in one of the rings. She'd already assured Marius that she looked forward to taking them out to the best trails in the countryside; he smiles, breathing in the country air and delighting in this reprieve from the city, for the moment.

Running a hand through his usual, tousled hair, as he leans against the fence, Marius catches sight of himself in the mirror of a puddle by his feet. Against the increase in his freckles thanks to the season, the love marks on his neck stand out more prominently; he flushes, but he smiles at the sight. Though he knows such alterations to his appearance will draw even more teasing remarks from Courfeyrac than usual, Marius finds himself welcoming such commentary.

He glances up again when he thinks he hears footsteps approaching. Pulling himself off from the fence, he waves and heads towards where he thinks he spies his best friend.

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Courfeyrac has only sat on a horse one or two times. He is no country boy, and neither is he of the noble stock that his father liked to pretend that they were, and so the opportunities were few. That has not stopped him from pretending greater knowledge and skill every opportunity he could since Marius suggested the outing, speaking as though the handful of times he had found himself on the back of a horse had made him expert. He certainly looks the plantoic ideal of a rider as he strolls up to join his friends, his new boots shiny and his jacket smart. If something rougher and more broken in would be appropriate, he missed the memo.

“Pontmercy, my friend! What an excellent day for a ride."

Marius lacks horse riding experience himself, but he thinks it a nice skill to learn; especially out in the open, away from busy, city life, for once. He spent his life in Paris in carriages and admiring the horses of his grandfather's friends from a distance. He's read up a little on what to wear: for the first time in his life, Marius is wearing jeans, faded and worn, from a local thrift store. He's read, too, that one should wear proper boots, so he has those as well. Paired with the plain, comfortable t-shirt on his chest, and Marius feels positively modern.

Catching sight of Courfeyrac and his riding garb, Marius blushes, thinking himself under dressed.

"I thought so," Marius replies with a sheepish smile. "And you've ridden before, yes?"

“I had a cousin with an estate and some delightful horses,” Courfeyrac answers by way of confirmation. Nevermind that he had not ridden any of them since he was a boy, and then, had been largely escorted across the yard by a stablehand. In later years, when he might have actually learned something, his cousin’s maid interested him far more than the equines. No need to explain all that, of course. Courfeyac has never been one to demur. “But I gather that this is an entirely new prospect for you, my friend?"

"Oh, good," Marius' shoulders visibly sink with his breath of relief. He trusts Courfeyrac at his word; if he possesses a cousin with an estate out in the countryside and several horses, of course his best friend must be something of an expert himself at riding the creatures. Marius feels that nothing terrible of consequence can occur with Courfeyrac's knowledge between them. "So at least one of us knows what we're doing then."

"It is," he affirms with a nod. "Grandfather had friends with estates and horses, but I never went near them when I could help it." He manages something of a smile, though it lends itself more to bitterness than anything else.

"Hopefully," he adds with a sheepish smile. "I won't fall out of my saddle."

Never ashamed of his penchant for inflating his skills, Courfeyrac beams. He only makes a face as Marius mentions his grandfather, for there is a fellow he has long detested, and surely any friend or relative of his would be just as dreadful. “Any acquaintance of your grandfather’s would not be worth the time spent atop a horse,” he declares. “If you fall from your saddle today, it will be in a good cause.”

“Now,” he stuffs his hands in his pockets as he strolls forward, brightening as he spots the pretty stablehand, “what do you have planned for us today?"

Marius snorts at the look on Courfeyrac's face, though his expression perfectly sums up how he, too, feels in regard to his grandfather. He remembers too well being dragged to parlors and mansions of people equally as charitable as Monsieur Gillenormand; sour memories as potent as any of his unpleasant childhood he rather disdains in dwelling upon. "They all shared my grandfather's view of the world," he says, shaking his head. "And his delight in pointing out everything wrong with me."

Marius snorts again when Courfeyrac catches sight of the lovely stablehand. "I planned for us to ride along one of the paths through the woods," he says. "With mademoiselle Violet as our guide. I don't suppose you can hold off until the end of our venture to ask for her number?"

Courfeyrac looks horrified - or would, if the expression were not marred by a distinctively playful twinkle in his eyes. “What sort of brute do you think I am, Pontmercy? You speak as though I intend to pounce upon her the moment we meet. Women like to be charmed, and that takes time.” He winks. “But you will introduce us, won’t you?"

Courfeyrac attempts to look put out, but Marius knows well enough the familiar twinkle in his eyes by now. He manages to refrain from rolling his own eyes; a talent cultivated from years of observing Combeferre with Courfeyrac. "Courfeyrac," Marius says, trying not to smile at his friend's blatant enthusiasm. "I do know you, after all. You're not so much a patient man, especially when it comes to beautiful women."

As they approach Violet, who walks toward them to meet them halfway, Marius gives in to the urge to smile.

"Of course I'll introduce you," he promises.

“Ah, but I am a strategic one,” Courfeyrac insists, his blinding smile returning in full force as they approach the woman in question. “I swear to you, my friend, no matter how charming she is, I will not so readily ruin our outing - and my chances.”

He switches to English for the sake of the woman in question. “Ah, mademoiselle, Marius tells me you will be our guide this afternoon? It is entirely my pleasure."

Edited 2015-09-05 15:40 (UTC)

"That, I will grant you," Marius admits as Violet approaches, looking every bit as well-versed in nature and horses from the stains prominent throughout her clothes. "You do know how to bide your time with the fairer sex."

"Oui," Violet answers with a playful sparkle to her eyes. "And you must be monsieur Courfeyrac? Marius has told me something about you." Her tone of voice is such that leaves plenty of room for interpretation, for however Courfeyrac sees fit. Marius has to stifle a chuckle at the scene. "I assure you, the pleasure is all mine."

"Now," she says, gesturing for them to follow her. "If you two will follow me, I will lead you to your horses. Courfeyrac, you shall be riding Paladin today. Marius, you'll be with Pikachu."

“Alors, has he been spreading rumors about me already?” Courfeyrac winks at his friend. Marius, he learned long ago, is incapable of intentionally saying a bad word about anyone. The way the woman is smiling certainly confirms Courfeyrac’s suspicion that Marius has only said good things about him.

“We follow your lead, Violette.” Falling in step beside Marius as Violet takes them to the horses, he causally puts his hands in his pockets and shoots his friend an amused look. Pikachu? he mouths - for surely that is the most absurd name for a horse he has ever heard. Thank goodness both were not named so ridiculously.

"Only good things, I assure you," Violet remarks with a grin and a wink, taking everything in stride. Marius gives Courfeyrac both a pointed look and a slight rolling of his eyes, as if to say, 'I told you so.' As much as he might ridicule Courfeyrac for his flirtatious ways, but he could never actually speak seriously ill of him to anyone, lest of all to a kindly woman who is providing them with the favor of her company today.

Marius shakes his head as Courfeyrac mouths to him, blushing faintly as he does so. Of course, his dear friend winds up with the elegantly named companion and he winds up with a stallion named Pikachu.

"Here we are then," Violet leads them into the ring outside, where three horses await them. "Paladin is this one here, and Pikachu is that lovely brown one over there."

Marius' eyes threaten to pop out of his own head when he sees his horse. Tall, broad, and exceedingly stamping his foot in between snorts, he seems eager to be out of the containment of the ring. Marius visibly gulps.

"Jesu, are you certain it is safe for me to ride this creature?"

Though a lovely looking beast in his own right, Paladin is positively demure in comparison. Courfeyrac strokes his stallion’s nose as he eyes his friend and the mount he must tame. “The name does not quite suit, does it?” he observes with obvious amusement, though he has no inkling of precisely how ridiculous the name is for the creature. Courfeyrac only knows that anything called Pikachu should be sweet and childlike, surely. By the look of him, Marius had assumed the same.

“Baron Marius Pontmercy, I have seen you stare down Paris’ best national guardsmen. You will not be frightened off by an equine.”

Surreptitiously, he winks at Violet.

"I admit, I don't know the origin of a name like 'Pikachu,' but it seems a bit small for this creature," Marius muses, gradually creeping closer to the unnervingly tall horse he's expected to ride. Slowly, he offers his hand to the horse to sniff. Pikachu eyes him warily at first, but he does condescend to sniff him, before deciding that the hem of his shirt looks much more interesting. Before Marius knows it, the horse is chewing on his shirt. He attempts to smile and back away at the same time. Pikachu follows.

"You've never heard of Pikachu, really?" Violet gives them both an arched eyebrow as she moves to help Marius out. "Where are you two from, the nineteenth century?"

"Something like that," Marius says, with a sly smile to Courfeyrac. "But really," she assures him. "He's a sweetheart. He just likes to eat everything in sight."

Marius gulps. Courfeyrac does have a point there. "I suppose you are right."

“Perhaps while we are riding, you can grace us with the tales of the great Pikachu, and how this beast came to earn such a title,” Courfeyrac suggests playfully. Based on Violet’s reaction, he suspects that they are right about the name’s diminutive origins. He flashes a grin, and then faces his own horse, hesitating ever-so-briefly. Now he must confront the fact that he has not sat upon a horse in a dozen years, and must do so without entirely embarrassing himself.

Choosing, as ever, to face his predicament head-on, Courfeyrac puts his unscuffed boot into the stirrup and levers himself up - or, at the very least, attempts to. Lacking the proper momentum, he is unable to get his leg over, and ends up clutching the saddle with his foot still caught in the stirrup.

“Putain."

"I would be glad to," Violet says with a laugh and a shake of her head. Her entire ease at the situation reminds Marius of Courfeyrac, actually; he manages to stop fidgeting as Pikachu gnaws on his shirt, bringing his hand to start stroking the back of the creature's neck. Pikachu makes a noise that seems to indicate satisfaction at such attentions, so he continues. "Pikachu is a horse of many tales."

Marius bursts out laughing at Courfeyrac's sudden predicament, as Violet makes her way over to him.

"Need some help there?" She lifts an eyebrow at him before glancing back at Marius. "And don't laugh yet. You still have your own mount to ride."

Marius immediately stops laughing, watching Pikachu once more with apprehension.

Courfeyrac might have his pride, but he also knows when he has been bested. “I would be quite glad for your help, mademoiselle.” He takes the hand she offers, and allows her to help him return to the ground. Then he lets her lever him up, this time succeeding in mounting the horse. The animal, meanwhile, continues to stand placidly. Courfeyrac wonders if he should not have asked for a more spirited beast.

As soon as he settles into the saddle, Courfeyrac is full of contented cockiness once again. “You are a miracle worker, cherie,” he tells Violet, who looks none impressed with her upgraded diminutive. “Now, why don’t you help our poor friend over there?”

He winks at Marius.

Marius doesn't miss the eyeroll Violet sneaks in after she helps Courfeyrac mount his horse. Clearly, Courfeyrac's usual flattery will not win this woman over so easily. And he can't help but feel just a bit of envy for the way Courfeyrac's horse remains so still, even as Courfeyrac nearly makes a fool of himself on it.

Marius doesn't even bother hiding his eye rolling in response to Courfeyrac's winking.

"Thank you, mademoiselle," he tells Violet as she moves to assist him in climbing up and settling upon Pikachu, who snorts again and stamps one hoof in response. He gulps; he can feel his stomach rolling about.

"Well then, monsieurs," Violet addresses them with a teasing arch of her eyebrow before gracefully mounting her own ride. "Are we ready to ride then?"

Courfeyrac’s eyes twinkle in reply, inclined, as always, to assume that chere Violet is laughing with them, not at them. He tugs on the reigns, pleased when his horse responds - and never mind that the beast is likely trained to follow its leader, not its rider. “We are indeed.” He grins at his companion. “Do not look so distressed, Marius. I do not think Pikachu will defeat you today."

Marius doesn't need to see himself to know that he's blushing; he can feel the warmth of it on his cheeks. Already, he's preparing for whatever embarrassments seem inevitable to follow on this ride. "I'll let Pikachu decide that," he says, grateful that he at least manages to sound dignified in response.

"Follow me," Violet calls over her shoulder, beginning to lead them out of the barn.

Marius gently presses his heels into Pikachu's sides and holds on the reins.

So, naturally, Pikachu sets off at a gallop.

To Courfeyrac’s credit, he stares in genuine horror after his friend for a good five seconds before he bursts into laughter. “Ah, mon Dieu- Alors, nique ta mere-“ he swears in two or three other languages, cheerfully flabbergasted, and then looks to his guide with wide eyes. “Was that meant to happen?” And then, “Will he be all right? By God, leave it to Marius…” He chuckles again. “Oh dear."

His own placid horse takes advantage of the halt to nibble on some grass.

"Pikachu is a, er. Rather more sensitive horse than most," Violet explains with a shrug. "That's kind of why I thought he'd be a fit for your friend there."

Marius is petrified. The first thought he manages, as he clings to dear life to his horse, is a prayer for his own life, tethered as it currently is to the whims of an excited horse. "Help?" He calls out, in between cursing in three different languages. He doesn't have to look back to know that Courfeyrac is laughing at him, which, as indignant as it makes Marius feel, is also oddly comforting.

"Hold on, freckles, I've got you!" Violet shouts, instantly galloping up to his side. "Pikachu, whoa!"

Pikachu snorts, and shakes his head, but eventually slows down and halts. Marius, white as a sheet, refuses to stop clinging to the back of the horse's neck.

"Thank you, mademoiselle," he tells her reverently, as though she's just saved his life.

He turns back to look at Courfeyrac. "And thank you for your concern back there!"

“Bah, I knew you could handle yourself!” Much to Courfeyrac’s chagrin, his own horse follows its leader with a careful plod, but he is grinning as he joins Violet and Marius. “And here you are! What did I have to worry about?”

He winks at Violet. Freckles. He’ll have to remember that one.

"Thank you for that vote of confidence," Marius grumbles, finding himself a tad grumpy after nearly falling off his horse. The sort of petulant grumpiness he tries not to indulge in when he can help it, but that always flares up after certain sorts of disappointments. "Oh, I don't know. Possibly me losing a limb or two."

Blessedly, he finds himself calming down as their horses begin a gentle pace towards what looks like some sort of trail in the woods. The fresh air, and airing of his grievances, does Marius good.

He doesn't miss that wink, either.

"I suppose that's what you'll be calling me now, is it?" He asks, his tone much less mullish than before.

Well acquainted with Marius’ moods, Courfeyrac waits out his friend’s grumbling without ribbing or complaint. As they set out down the path, he begins to whistle quietly under his breath, tipping his head up slightly to enjoy the blue sky and bright sun. He might be a city boy at heart, but the unpredictable wildness of the countryside has an appeal to him, certainly. At least in small doses.

He raises his brows innocently at his companion. “Well, Monsieur le Abbe no longer suits you. I was in the market for a new nom de guerre.”

Much to Courfeyrac’s growing dismay, his horse appears to be much more poorly named. Where Pikachu is all nerves, Paladin plods sensibly along, head drooping slightly. “Le bon Dieu,” Courfeyac sighs, half laughing, “have you given me an old soldier, Violette? Our brave knight seems to have lost some of its vigor.”

As though aware he has been insulted, Paladin stops abruptly. Laughing again, Courfeyrac gives the horse a swift kick in the sides.

“Don’t-“ He barely hears Violet’s protest, for the horse bucks in response, sending Courfeyrac tumbling to the ground.

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