Hmm, well. Something tells me you're not usually a man of leisure.
[ Her tone is light and playful. She's seen him constantly staying busy thus far, whether with his training or with her or some other odds and ends that needs to be done. She rises from her seat to stand before him. She's tiny next to him, so even standing, she must tilt her face up to peer at him. ]
Perhaps I should be asking you to entertain me.
[ She's jesting. She doesn't expect him to do anything for her benefit. Francesca enjoys the way they can banter and tease our another. She's learning their dynamic, and it's one she enjoys immensely. She nods towards his weaponry and gear. ]
I could be. [ He's not. Not really. Benedict has always felt the need to prove himself in one way or another, and being perceived as lazy or indolent has never been something that would suit him well in the eyes of the rest of society.
He keeps his hands behind himself, taking half a step back to make room for Francesca as she stands, but doesn't otherwise move himself out of her way. If she wants to slip in close to his personal space, he won't be stopping her.
His brows furrow slightly. ] It's rather dirty work, I'm afraid. You might ruin your dress.
[ If there's one thing he's discovered about his new bride, it's that she has just as much pride in her appearance as his cousin, and her dresses reflect that. She doesn't favor the almost aggressively military bent that most of Gwen's clothing takes, wearing things he could label as being aggressively feminine instead, but it's clear that her things are both expensive and cherished, and he'd be loath to see her smear oil on them by accident. ]
[ She wears a mauve and ivory day dress. It's one that's part of her trousseau. It's more breathable than her silk and lace gowns. She glances down at it and bites her bottom lip in consideration. She's never really been one to get down and dirty. Most ladies do not. Still, she doesn't wish to disappoint her husband. She doesn't want to be found lacking. She knows his cousin is most competent in physical disciplines. Francesca wants to fit in with his family.
She wants him to really like her.
She squares her shoulders and takes his hand, uncaring of the dirt on it. She gives it a squeeze. ]
Dresses can be washed, and if not, it's right. I have many dresses.
[ She does. An absurd amount. Her mother has ensured her trousseau had everything she needed and then some. ]
[ He doesn't say anything to her pronouncement for a moment, watching her curiously even as she takes his hand in hers, seemingly determined to ignore the smears of oil and dirt on his fingertips. He had wiped them clean before standing, obviously, but that only does so much.
Still, after taking the time to ascertain that she was, indeed, serious, he squeezes her hand gently. ]
Alright, if you say so.
[ Benedict is dressed down, somewhat, still wearing the loose shirt and pants he'd put on this morning before he started his training regimen, and his sleeves are rolled up to above his elbows to help protect them a little from his chores. If absolute worst comes to worst, he'll just peel it off and put it on Francesca instead, over her dress, and use it to protect her clothing that way.
Tugging her over to the table, he indicates for her to sit in his previous seat, and pulls up the chair beside her by hooking his ankle around its leg. ]
Now. You know about iron rot, I'm certain. [ Of course she would. Everyone knows that all exposed iron and steel rots absurdly quickly above the mists, that even the smallest piece of exposed metal will catch a seed of rust and disintegrate almost before your eyes if you aren't careful about it. That's why copper cladding is so vitally important. Without it, he could be in serious trouble. ] One of the most important tasks I have is to maintain my gear, in particular my gauntlet and sword. If I am lax in my care, my blade could rot in its copper sheath, and then when I might have need of it, it could shatter in the scabbard or crumple the instant it's used.
[ He picks up his saber, broader than common dueling blades but longer than the typical short sword, and gestures for her to hold out her hands, palms up. ] Two hands, now. It's heavy. [ It's specially calibrated for his enhanced strength. A normal man might need two hands to wield it as fluidly as Benedict does with just one. ] Careful of the edge. Using just your eyes, examine it. Do you see any blemish in the cladding?
[ Her eyes keep straying to his forearms. They're exposed due to his training and his cleaning. She's become very familiar with his naked body, yet the sight of his forearms on display endlessly distracts her. She takes a seat and inspects his things laid out on the table. She recognizes the lumin crystals though she's never handled them in a gauntlet like that before. She's busy inspecting each piece visually when he brings a chair next to her. He's so close that even her human nose could smell the heat and sweat of him from his training. It should put her off, but it only drives her to further distraction.
She focuses on his lesson because it's important. She knows well enough about iron rot. Anthony had lectured them all endlessly that it isn't simply the servants' duty to ensure it among their home, but theirs as well.
Now she's more aware of how deadly it can be if his weapons fail him in the field. She has visions of him being struck down because of it, and it makes her heart clench painfully. She's surprised when he offers her to hold his sword. She reaches out with two hands to hold it, but it's still incredibly heavy.
She does as he bids. She's already been examining it closely. ]
It's very clean and well-maintained. [ Unsurprising, considering how fastidious her husband is. ] But is that...? A repair?
[ Benedict smiles at her and picks up his sword from her hands, his long fingers wrapping around the leather grip smoothly and lifting as easily as she might pick up a pen. ]
Well spotted. I made that repair last week. It will wear down with time and use. [ He runs his thumb down the length of his blade, touching it just enough to feel it but not using any pressure. He heals quickly, it's true, but there's no need to injure himself unnecessarily. ] I've had this since I joined the Guard. I suppose at some point in time, it will become an entirely new sword, simply by virtue of being repaired time and time again.
[ It's standard practice for at least one child of the High Houses of Albion to serve a year in the Guard, although exceptions are made in circumstances that would allow a House to save face if necessary; technically, both Benedict and Gwen were not expected to serve as the only children of their Houses, even their friend Bridget needn't have put herself into service to the Spirearch, since she was her father's only daughter. All three of them ignored that loophole and marched straight into the line of duty, and Benedict and Bridget, at least, have never managed to find their way out. Bridget might, when she takes over her father's vattery. Benedict, however...
This is his life's calling, he fears.
The less said about Gwen's pivot to aeronautics the better. If the row between her and Lady Lancaster when she enlisted was bad, the deafening confrontation between them when she came home and announced she had become a privateer was even worse. Benedict's ears are still ringing and he hadn't even been in the room when it happened.
He sets his sword down and picks up his gauntlet instead, holding it by the strap across his palm where the weapons crystal sits and not by the sheath. Leather is much easier and cheaper to replace than crystals, especially ones the size of the one that sits nestled in his palm. ]
Lancaster crystals, naturally. My cousin gifted it to me two years ago when my old one was destroyed.
[ It had been Anthony that had served. He'd undertaken so much responsibility since the death of their father. From assuming the title and serving, he'd borne the weight of the eldest with such austerity that it'd made him more of a force of a nature that guided them rather than older brother. Marrying Kate Sharma had done him a world of good.
As the sixth child of the Bridgerton, Francesca hadn't had any harsh expectations placed upon her. Instead, she was free to pursue her hobbies and passions and in return, she'd give her hand in an advantageous marriage. The fact that it's worked out so well thus far is a boon and a surprise.
She beams when she realizes she'd recognized the repair. ]
But it shall still be your sword all the same, only with the same experience you've undergone.
[ They next turn towards his gauntlet. She doesn't reach out to take it as easily as she did the sword. She's afraid to accidentally do something with it because she's unfamiliar with it. ]
The Lancaster crystals are some of the most renown, I have heard.
[ Benedict is still getting to know Francesca as a person — he feels like he knows her body quite well by now, although he'll never turn down a chance to study a little more; he is an excellent student when properly motivated, and the taste and feel of his wife is excellent motivation — but he doesn't find how sheltered she is grating. He had worried he might, when he was told who he was going to be married to, but Francesca's naivete hasn't been as tiresome as he'd been expecting now that they are wed.
Perhaps it is because she doesn't seem so willful about it. Her confusion feels genuine, every time she comes up against something she clearly hasn't had to grapple with before, and he's surprised to find he almost likes it. It's nice, to be reminded of the reason he does what he does. Yes, it is because of his duty to the Spire and all its people. But also it is because, by doing what he does, Benedict ensures a life for those around him where they can spend all their days focusing on gentler pursuits like art and theatre and music.
He chuckles quietly. ] I'm not sure all my repairs will look quite so seamless in time. [ She's seen some of the scars he hides beneath his clothes, after all. And he knows he's going to acquire quite a few more, in time.
He runs his fingertip over the crystal lying dormant in his hand. ] The best in all of Spire Albion. And some of our neighboring Spires, as well.
[ The Lancasters don't hold a monopoly on all crystal production, naturally, but theirs is the largest and most well-established vattery, and have been growing crystals for generations, all the way back to the time of the Builders. There is a reason why their enterprise has shifted to focus more on weapons and lift crystals and largely leaves the smaller, newer, more common lumin crystals to be produced by other vatteries on lower habbles. There's no shame in producing that which allows humanity to see even in the dark, but when space is at a premium, why not focus on growing that which provides the greatest profit?
There are other, nobler reasons for it, too, ones that are trotted out every time any tours of the vatteries are held, but Benedict is practical to his core. His family values the money in outfitting the Spire's Guard and its Armada, and that's the bottom line. ]
It matters not if the repairs are seamless, so long as it can continue to endure and survive.
[ She's not as whimsical or prone to daydream as Daphne and Francesca, nor is she so stubborn and grounded as Eloise. Francesca is soft and feminine, but she's pragmatic too. It's why she'd agreed to this marriage.
The Sorellin-Lancaster House is one of the most prominent in the Spire. They eclipse Bridgerton House easily, and they're no small house themselves. Bridgerton House is old and storied with Anthony being the ninth first son of the first son as Lord Bridgerton. Their line is enduring. Now Francesca has taken her husband's name and house, and she'll continue their line.
She wants whatever children they have to be healthy and happy and safe. She thinks Benedict will want that too. ]
I wish I knew and understood more about all of this. [ It's a sheepish apology. ] But I'm enjoying your tutelage, husband.
[ Benedict looks at her silently for a moment, his mouth slowly curling in a smile. ]
What an excellent way to look at things. [ He leans in to kiss her cheek.
Perhaps that is what he senses in her; she is naive, yes, but not so much that she doesn't realize that the world around her is difficult and dangerous. A woman who truly thought the only important things in life were her dresses or her drawings or what kind of paper her stationary was made of would have balked at marrying because she was told to, especially someone like him. And Benedict would undoubtedly have a difficult time being married to her.
He kisses her again, at her jaw this time, nosing at the soft little divot beneath her ear where her scent is stronger. ]
You have no need to understand it all. [ One more kiss, and then he reluctantly pulls away. ] But I am enjoying teaching you.
[ His smile makes a warmth nestle in her breast by her heart. She considers each smile a personal victory for herself. She appreciates his smile, but she appreciates them even more because they're for her. Because of her. He further rewards her with a kiss that tickles her cheek because of his beard. His kisses begin to trail along her delicate jaw until he gets to the sensitive spot behind her ear. It sends a shiver down her spine.
Her eyes close as she lets him wash over her. He pulls away, making her open her eyes with a touch of disappointment. She craves more of his kisses, so much so that she'd forgotten they are in the parlor during the day. This isn't the time or place for their marital activities, no matter how much she thinks of them. ]
As I've said, I'm a quick learner. [ She gives him an impish look. She's proven so many times over by now though in more intimate terms. ] I think there is much we can learn from each other.
[ He's been keeping his hands to himself because they are still dirty, and so he resists the urge to reach in and touch her, perhaps to brush some of her hair aside or to turn her chin towards him. It's tempting, especially when he pulls back and she turns to look at him, her color high in her cheeks and her eyes sparkling and bright. He has learned what that look means, and it usually only means good things.
However, they are in the middle of the public wing of the house, and Benedict is many things, but an exhibitionist is not one of them. So, despite the fact that she smells delectable and looks like she wants him to kiss her again, he reluctantly draws back so that he is sitting properly in his chair again, and goes back to his explanation as to how he cares for and maintains his gear. ]
Mm, I hear that wives enjoy being told they're right by their husbands.
[ She's more playful with him now. She's glad that they're able to converse more without the stilted air of formality now that they're growing more comfortable with one another. She makes herself focus as he teaches her. She reaches out handles the different pieces the way he instructs her.
Oil ends up on her hands. She's getting a little dirty in the lesson, even absently swiping a hand along her cheek to push back a strand of hair. She makes mental notes of everything, so she can remember again in the future. She knows she'll forget some of the finer details, but repetition is what sears it into the brain. Just like music. ]
I may need to write some this down, so I can review later.
[ Most of Benedict's compatriots in the Guard are more or less his age, though of course there are many who are careerists, just the same as he. The boys tend to gossip about dalliances and the like, short-term and fleeting and boastful in ways that are fairly obviously embellished, but the older cohort are more resigned with their tales; stories about angry disagreements, broken promises, bitter divorces.
He hopes that his marriage to Francesca won't go down that route. When he agreed to it, he figured that an arranged marriage would be simple: he'd get her with child and then they'd live separate but more or less parallel lives.
It's not really turning out that way.
The little smear on her cheek is painfully charming, and he's tempted to reach in and rub it away, if he wouldn't make it worse by touching her. ]
It's alright. There probably won't be much need of you to take care of these tasks for me; you aren't a squire, after all. [ And what soldier would he be if he came home and dumped his things in the lap of his wife? ]
I know, but I'd like to know and understand what you do, including the tools needed.
[ She doesn't want to simply be a pretty doll of a wife that's ignorant to what her husband does. She wants to be involved in his life if he's amenable. They get along well, so they might continue this path of learning each other both body and mind.
Her mother and father have set the precedent for their family on wha a marriage could be like. It's a partnership filled with trust and love and friendship. Her siblings have found similar connections. Despite the arranged match, she's been hopeful something like that could spring from this marriage with Benedict.
Her hands are dirty with a few stains on the skirt on her dress. She doesn't notice them, and if she does, she hardly remarks on them. Her attention is fully on her husband. ]
[ There's no harm in her knowing. In fact, at some point, Benedict knows himself well enough to know that he's going to give in to the impulse to teach her at least a little hand-to-hand; not as much as he taught Gwen, or even Bridget in preparation for her duel, but enough to protect herself should the need arise. Nobody expects pretty little dolls to be able to fight back, and she might be able to use that to her advantage.
He feels badly about her skirt, but she did say she was willing to try even if she gets dirty, so he says nothing. ]
Well, most often I just wear it again, but today I think it will go back to its locker. I think the both of us are in need of a bath.
[ Francesca looks down at her hands. She's noticing the smudges on them as well as the ones on her skirt. She takes it all in stride. Like he'd said, a bath is due for the both of them. She's never had a midday bath, but she's not against it. She'll make sure to give her dress to her lady's maid to ensure it laundered properly.
She waits for him to gather his things. She wants to help, but she's unsure what he's willing to let her carry for him. ]
You're right. I'm not sure you'll like the smell of oil and dirt all over me.
[ He has sharper senses. She's learned that he likes her scent, and he can't tell little things about it. Where she's been, who she's seen, what soap she'd used. ]
[ He's used to carrying it all himself, but with Francesca standing there with him, he does find a few things for her to hold. Not his weapons themselves, of course, because they are both too heavy and also too dangerous for her to be bandying about with no training.
Once she's got a good hold on the little bits and pieces, he lets himself lean in closer. ]
On the contrary. I rather like it when you smell like my things.
[ The particular mix of chamois, oil, and copper is as familiar to Benedict as his own sweat. That Francesca has picked up a hint of it is almost comforting. It makes her smell his. Smirking, he gives her a little wink and then ducks his head in to press a quick nipping kiss to her jaw before straightening and ushering her out of the room. ]
Come along. I'll show you how to store everything where it belongs.
[ She's glad to be useful. He gives her the smaller, less dangerous bits that she can carry easily. She gathers them all against her chest, so she can carry more. She's just got it settled when he leans in. Her lips part slightly at the rumble of his voice. Her body radiates the heat of arousal and pheromones simply from that sentence. It mixes in with the oil and copper and all the rest into something both so sharply feminine but edged with his masculinity.
She laughs softly at his cheeky wink. He gives a quick kiss that he steals quickly. Like he's trying to get it in lest someone sees. She lets him guide her out of the parlor to head to his locker. There are servant nearby that are ready to attend to them. Francesca gives them her attention when she speaks to them. The servant glances at the items in her arms and offers to take it from her instead. ]
[ Like many of the High Houses, part of the retinue of Sorellin House are guardsmen. They have a Master of Arms, as well, although Hughes is not warriorborn like the Lancaster House's Master of Arms, Esterbrook. He was Benedict's first teacher in how to move about the world accommodating for those around him, and his lessons have stuck with him on such a strong, fundamental level that Benedict isn't sure he can be or do anything else.
Francesca needn't worry that her husband's too-strong hands will pinch or crush or otherwise damage her. His control over himself is exceptional.
"Locker" is a bit of a strong word for the place where Benedict keeps not only his weapons, but also the items used to care for them. Sorellin House has a small gymnasium, one equipped with the sorts of things he uses to maintain his stamina, and on one wall of that is a row of cupboards. While there is a lock upon most of the doors, it is rarely engaged; the weapons within are typically too difficult for all but the strongest humans to wield. That is where he leads Francesca, shifting the bundle in his arms easily enough to free up a hand to open the cupboards where he keeps his cleaning tools. ]
Thank you, Joshua, but I believe between the two of us we can manage.
[ Joshua gives them both a skeptical look, but considering he's known Benedict for nearly four years now, he doesn't try to voice a dissenting opinion. Tugging on his forelock like he's doffing a cap, he replies with an "Of course, Sir Benedict. Mrs Sorellin." and then wanders off, leaving them more or less to their own devices again.
Benedict hangs up his saber with no indication that lifting it one-handed is difficult at all. His gauntlet follows suit. During his usual every day, he might wear it casually, but as he is on his honeymoon, he has elected not to go about his own house armed. ]
[ The gymnasium is an area of the house that she hasn't visited. There's much to the house she still hasn't seen, but this particular room is where Benedict spends a lot of his time. She holds his things while she casts her eyes around the room to take in all the details to it. House Bridgerton has a similar one though smaller in size. She'd rarely stepped foot in there.
She turns her attention to Joshua and offers a kind smile. She's been introduced to most of the staff at the house. She hasn't quite gotten to know them well outside of her lady's maids. He takes his leave while Benedict begins putting away his weapons. He handles everything with such ease thanks to his warriorborn strength. He's an impressive man, suffice to say. ]
Is this where you do your training?
[ He disappears in the mornings to keep his body and skills honed. She really wishes to observe one day. ]
[ He plucks things from her arms almost absently as they move from one place to another, then briefly glances over it all to make sure it's all where it should be before closing the cupboard door. ]
Truthfully, most of the time I use the training grounds, down at the Guardhouse.
[ The space is more expansive, and there are usually people around he can spar with. It works better for him, especially since then he doesn't have to feel too terribly guilty if he breaks something, and it works especially well for his fellow Guardsmen, who can practice going up against one of the warriorborn. ]
[ Everything goes to their place very nearly. Nothing is askew or put back haphazardly. Benedict has great respect for his gear which is understandable. That same gear is what keeps him alive in his line of work. She tries very hard not to think of what it'll be like when he's gone for the first time during her marriage. She knows she'll fret the whole time and likely miss him terribly. The honeymoon is not only allowing them to get to one another, but it's getting her accustomed to his presence around the house.
The Guardhouse is also another place she's never been. She's not so sure if her presence would be welcome there. ]
May I watch one day? Is that allowed?
[ She knows there are spaces that aren't appropriate for ladies, but she's still hopeful. Once her arms are empty of items, she drops them to her sides. The bodice of her day dress now bear the marks of his gear though she isn't troubled by it. ]
[ He glances at her in surprise as he wipes his hands on his shirt. ]
You can watch me train here any time you like. Provided, that is, [ he adds with a cheeky little smile, ] that you get up in time to do so.
[ It's unfair to tease her about sleeping in, he knows that, but he'll do it anyway. It's not his fault he's taken great pride in pleasing his wife in the morning, learning how to touch her and breathing in the scent of her, warm and relaxed and trusting. If she needs a nap after that... that's not his fault either.
He eyes her dress but says nothing, instead offering her his hand as he turns towards the door. ]
I don't think there's any edict against you watching at the Guardhouse, but I'm not sure you'll enjoy it very much. I can't vouch for everyone's manners.
[ She shoots him a look that her pretty lips pressed into a mouse of vexation though it doesn't last. Francesca is typically an early riser, but of late, her husband tires her out that she stays abed long after the sun has risen. They both know he's the reason for it, but they also know that neither have complaints. It's been very enjoyable to wake up to his touches and the way he coaxes her into peak after peak until their scents combine once more.
She takes his hand, so they can return to their wing with their private rooms. They've shared the same room since their wedding. Her trousseau and other items have been placed there, dresses folded or hung up with care. They find their places next to his like they've always belonged there. ]
As long as you're there, I'll enjoy. I need not mind bad manners from the others if I do not give them attention. So long as you're fine with it, I'd like to observe, it's here and at the Guardhouse.
[ They walk through the halls at a leisurely pace. There's no hurry. Supper is still a few hours out. This is usually when Francesca would read curled up by some warmth of the crystals, but she's better pleased to have her husband's warmth instead. ]
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Date: 2026-02-18 09:27 pm (UTC)[ Her tone is light and playful. She's seen him constantly staying busy thus far, whether with his training or with her or some other odds and ends that needs to be done. She rises from her seat to stand before him. She's tiny next to him, so even standing, she must tilt her face up to peer at him. ]
Perhaps I should be asking you to entertain me.
[ She's jesting. She doesn't expect him to do anything for her benefit. Francesca enjoys the way they can banter and tease our another. She's learning their dynamic, and it's one she enjoys immensely. She nods towards his weaponry and gear. ]
Are you finished? May I be of some assistance?
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Date: 2026-02-18 09:43 pm (UTC)He keeps his hands behind himself, taking half a step back to make room for Francesca as she stands, but doesn't otherwise move himself out of her way. If she wants to slip in close to his personal space, he won't be stopping her.
His brows furrow slightly. ] It's rather dirty work, I'm afraid. You might ruin your dress.
[ If there's one thing he's discovered about his new bride, it's that she has just as much pride in her appearance as his cousin, and her dresses reflect that. She doesn't favor the almost aggressively military bent that most of Gwen's clothing takes, wearing things he could label as being aggressively feminine instead, but it's clear that her things are both expensive and cherished, and he'd be loath to see her smear oil on them by accident. ]
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Date: 2026-02-18 09:54 pm (UTC)She wants him to really like her.
She squares her shoulders and takes his hand, uncaring of the dirt on it. She gives it a squeeze. ]
Dresses can be washed, and if not, it's right. I have many dresses.
[ She does. An absurd amount. Her mother has ensured her trousseau had everything she needed and then some. ]
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Date: 2026-02-19 02:27 am (UTC)Still, after taking the time to ascertain that she was, indeed, serious, he squeezes her hand gently. ]
Alright, if you say so.
[ Benedict is dressed down, somewhat, still wearing the loose shirt and pants he'd put on this morning before he started his training regimen, and his sleeves are rolled up to above his elbows to help protect them a little from his chores. If absolute worst comes to worst, he'll just peel it off and put it on Francesca instead, over her dress, and use it to protect her clothing that way.
Tugging her over to the table, he indicates for her to sit in his previous seat, and pulls up the chair beside her by hooking his ankle around its leg. ]
Now. You know about iron rot, I'm certain. [ Of course she would. Everyone knows that all exposed iron and steel rots absurdly quickly above the mists, that even the smallest piece of exposed metal will catch a seed of rust and disintegrate almost before your eyes if you aren't careful about it. That's why copper cladding is so vitally important. Without it, he could be in serious trouble. ] One of the most important tasks I have is to maintain my gear, in particular my gauntlet and sword. If I am lax in my care, my blade could rot in its copper sheath, and then when I might have need of it, it could shatter in the scabbard or crumple the instant it's used.
[ He picks up his saber, broader than common dueling blades but longer than the typical short sword, and gestures for her to hold out her hands, palms up. ] Two hands, now. It's heavy. [ It's specially calibrated for his enhanced strength. A normal man might need two hands to wield it as fluidly as Benedict does with just one. ] Careful of the edge. Using just your eyes, examine it. Do you see any blemish in the cladding?
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Date: 2026-02-19 02:21 pm (UTC)She focuses on his lesson because it's important. She knows well enough about iron rot. Anthony had lectured them all endlessly that it isn't simply the servants' duty to ensure it among their home, but theirs as well.
Now she's more aware of how deadly it can be if his weapons fail him in the field. She has visions of him being struck down because of it, and it makes her heart clench painfully. She's surprised when he offers her to hold his sword. She reaches out with two hands to hold it, but it's still incredibly heavy.
She does as he bids. She's already been examining it closely. ]
It's very clean and well-maintained. [ Unsurprising, considering how fastidious her husband is. ] But is that...? A repair?
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Date: 2026-02-19 02:36 pm (UTC)Well spotted. I made that repair last week. It will wear down with time and use. [ He runs his thumb down the length of his blade, touching it just enough to feel it but not using any pressure. He heals quickly, it's true, but there's no need to injure himself unnecessarily. ] I've had this since I joined the Guard. I suppose at some point in time, it will become an entirely new sword, simply by virtue of being repaired time and time again.
[ It's standard practice for at least one child of the High Houses of Albion to serve a year in the Guard, although exceptions are made in circumstances that would allow a House to save face if necessary; technically, both Benedict and Gwen were not expected to serve as the only children of their Houses, even their friend Bridget needn't have put herself into service to the Spirearch, since she was her father's only daughter. All three of them ignored that loophole and marched straight into the line of duty, and Benedict and Bridget, at least, have never managed to find their way out. Bridget might, when she takes over her father's vattery. Benedict, however...
This is his life's calling, he fears.
The less said about Gwen's pivot to aeronautics the better. If the row between her and Lady Lancaster when she enlisted was bad, the deafening confrontation between them when she came home and announced she had become a privateer was even worse. Benedict's ears are still ringing and he hadn't even been in the room when it happened.
He sets his sword down and picks up his gauntlet instead, holding it by the strap across his palm where the weapons crystal sits and not by the sheath. Leather is much easier and cheaper to replace than crystals, especially ones the size of the one that sits nestled in his palm. ]
Lancaster crystals, naturally. My cousin gifted it to me two years ago when my old one was destroyed.
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Date: 2026-02-19 02:51 pm (UTC)As the sixth child of the Bridgerton, Francesca hadn't had any harsh expectations placed upon her. Instead, she was free to pursue her hobbies and passions and in return, she'd give her hand in an advantageous marriage. The fact that it's worked out so well thus far is a boon and a surprise.
She beams when she realizes she'd recognized the repair. ]
But it shall still be your sword all the same, only with the same experience you've undergone.
[ They next turn towards his gauntlet. She doesn't reach out to take it as easily as she did the sword. She's afraid to accidentally do something with it because she's unfamiliar with it. ]
The Lancaster crystals are some of the most renown, I have heard.
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Date: 2026-02-19 03:46 pm (UTC)Perhaps it is because she doesn't seem so willful about it. Her confusion feels genuine, every time she comes up against something she clearly hasn't had to grapple with before, and he's surprised to find he almost likes it. It's nice, to be reminded of the reason he does what he does. Yes, it is because of his duty to the Spire and all its people. But also it is because, by doing what he does, Benedict ensures a life for those around him where they can spend all their days focusing on gentler pursuits like art and theatre and music.
He chuckles quietly. ] I'm not sure all my repairs will look quite so seamless in time. [ She's seen some of the scars he hides beneath his clothes, after all. And he knows he's going to acquire quite a few more, in time.
He runs his fingertip over the crystal lying dormant in his hand. ] The best in all of Spire Albion. And some of our neighboring Spires, as well.
[ The Lancasters don't hold a monopoly on all crystal production, naturally, but theirs is the largest and most well-established vattery, and have been growing crystals for generations, all the way back to the time of the Builders. There is a reason why their enterprise has shifted to focus more on weapons and lift crystals and largely leaves the smaller, newer, more common lumin crystals to be produced by other vatteries on lower habbles. There's no shame in producing that which allows humanity to see even in the dark, but when space is at a premium, why not focus on growing that which provides the greatest profit?
There are other, nobler reasons for it, too, ones that are trotted out every time any tours of the vatteries are held, but Benedict is practical to his core. His family values the money in outfitting the Spire's Guard and its Armada, and that's the bottom line. ]
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Date: 2026-02-19 04:16 pm (UTC)[ She's not as whimsical or prone to daydream as Daphne and Francesca, nor is she so stubborn and grounded as Eloise. Francesca is soft and feminine, but she's pragmatic too. It's why she'd agreed to this marriage.
The Sorellin-Lancaster House is one of the most prominent in the Spire. They eclipse Bridgerton House easily, and they're no small house themselves. Bridgerton House is old and storied with Anthony being the ninth first son of the first son as Lord Bridgerton. Their line is enduring. Now Francesca has taken her husband's name and house, and she'll continue their line.
She wants whatever children they have to be healthy and happy and safe. She thinks Benedict will want that too. ]
I wish I knew and understood more about all of this. [ It's a sheepish apology. ] But I'm enjoying your tutelage, husband.
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Date: 2026-02-19 05:24 pm (UTC)What an excellent way to look at things. [ He leans in to kiss her cheek.
Perhaps that is what he senses in her; she is naive, yes, but not so much that she doesn't realize that the world around her is difficult and dangerous. A woman who truly thought the only important things in life were her dresses or her drawings or what kind of paper her stationary was made of would have balked at marrying because she was told to, especially someone like him. And Benedict would undoubtedly have a difficult time being married to her.
He kisses her again, at her jaw this time, nosing at the soft little divot beneath her ear where her scent is stronger. ]
You have no need to understand it all. [ One more kiss, and then he reluctantly pulls away. ] But I am enjoying teaching you.
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Date: 2026-02-19 05:40 pm (UTC)Her eyes close as she lets him wash over her. He pulls away, making her open her eyes with a touch of disappointment. She craves more of his kisses, so much so that she'd forgotten they are in the parlor during the day. This isn't the time or place for their marital activities, no matter how much she thinks of them. ]
As I've said, I'm a quick learner. [ She gives him an impish look. She's proven so many times over by now though in more intimate terms. ] I think there is much we can learn from each other.
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Date: 2026-02-19 05:45 pm (UTC)[ He's been keeping his hands to himself because they are still dirty, and so he resists the urge to reach in and touch her, perhaps to brush some of her hair aside or to turn her chin towards him. It's tempting, especially when he pulls back and she turns to look at him, her color high in her cheeks and her eyes sparkling and bright. He has learned what that look means, and it usually only means good things.
However, they are in the middle of the public wing of the house, and Benedict is many things, but an exhibitionist is not one of them. So, despite the fact that she smells delectable and looks like she wants him to kiss her again, he reluctantly draws back so that he is sitting properly in his chair again, and goes back to his explanation as to how he cares for and maintains his gear. ]
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Date: 2026-02-19 06:01 pm (UTC)[ She's more playful with him now. She's glad that they're able to converse more without the stilted air of formality now that they're growing more comfortable with one another. She makes herself focus as he teaches her. She reaches out handles the different pieces the way he instructs her.
Oil ends up on her hands. She's getting a little dirty in the lesson, even absently swiping a hand along her cheek to push back a strand of hair. She makes mental notes of everything, so she can remember again in the future. She knows she'll forget some of the finer details, but repetition is what sears it into the brain. Just like music. ]
I may need to write some this down, so I can review later.
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Date: 2026-02-19 06:29 pm (UTC)[ Most of Benedict's compatriots in the Guard are more or less his age, though of course there are many who are careerists, just the same as he. The boys tend to gossip about dalliances and the like, short-term and fleeting and boastful in ways that are fairly obviously embellished, but the older cohort are more resigned with their tales; stories about angry disagreements, broken promises, bitter divorces.
He hopes that his marriage to Francesca won't go down that route. When he agreed to it, he figured that an arranged marriage would be simple: he'd get her with child and then they'd live separate but more or less parallel lives.
It's not really turning out that way.
The little smear on her cheek is painfully charming, and he's tempted to reach in and rub it away, if he wouldn't make it worse by touching her. ]
It's alright. There probably won't be much need of you to take care of these tasks for me; you aren't a squire, after all. [ And what soldier would he be if he came home and dumped his things in the lap of his wife? ]
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Date: 2026-02-19 06:55 pm (UTC)[ She doesn't want to simply be a pretty doll of a wife that's ignorant to what her husband does. She wants to be involved in his life if he's amenable. They get along well, so they might continue this path of learning each other both body and mind.
Her mother and father have set the precedent for their family on wha a marriage could be like. It's a partnership filled with trust and love and friendship. Her siblings have found similar connections. Despite the arranged match, she's been hopeful something like that could spring from this marriage with Benedict.
Her hands are dirty with a few stains on the skirt on her dress. She doesn't notice them, and if she does, she hardly remarks on them. Her attention is fully on her husband. ]
What do you do after you've tended to your gear?
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Date: 2026-02-19 07:03 pm (UTC)[ There's no harm in her knowing. In fact, at some point, Benedict knows himself well enough to know that he's going to give in to the impulse to teach her at least a little hand-to-hand; not as much as he taught Gwen, or even Bridget in preparation for her duel, but enough to protect herself should the need arise. Nobody expects pretty little dolls to be able to fight back, and she might be able to use that to her advantage.
He feels badly about her skirt, but she did say she was willing to try even if she gets dirty, so he says nothing. ]
Well, most often I just wear it again, but today I think it will go back to its locker. I think the both of us are in need of a bath.
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Date: 2026-02-19 07:35 pm (UTC)She waits for him to gather his things. She wants to help, but she's unsure what he's willing to let her carry for him. ]
You're right. I'm not sure you'll like the smell of oil and dirt all over me.
[ He has sharper senses. She's learned that he likes her scent, and he can't tell little things about it. Where she's been, who she's seen, what soap she'd used. ]
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Date: 2026-02-19 07:59 pm (UTC)Once she's got a good hold on the little bits and pieces, he lets himself lean in closer. ]
On the contrary. I rather like it when you smell like my things.
[ The particular mix of chamois, oil, and copper is as familiar to Benedict as his own sweat. That Francesca has picked up a hint of it is almost comforting. It makes her smell his. Smirking, he gives her a little wink and then ducks his head in to press a quick nipping kiss to her jaw before straightening and ushering her out of the room. ]
Come along. I'll show you how to store everything where it belongs.
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Date: 2026-02-19 08:21 pm (UTC)She laughs softly at his cheeky wink. He gives a quick kiss that he steals quickly. Like he's trying to get it in lest someone sees. She lets him guide her out of the parlor to head to his locker. There are servant nearby that are ready to attend to them. Francesca gives them her attention when she speaks to them. The servant glances at the items in her arms and offers to take it from her instead. ]
Oh, no, thank you. I can carry this just fine.
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Date: 2026-02-19 08:39 pm (UTC)Francesca needn't worry that her husband's too-strong hands will pinch or crush or otherwise damage her. His control over himself is exceptional.
"Locker" is a bit of a strong word for the place where Benedict keeps not only his weapons, but also the items used to care for them. Sorellin House has a small gymnasium, one equipped with the sorts of things he uses to maintain his stamina, and on one wall of that is a row of cupboards. While there is a lock upon most of the doors, it is rarely engaged; the weapons within are typically too difficult for all but the strongest humans to wield. That is where he leads Francesca, shifting the bundle in his arms easily enough to free up a hand to open the cupboards where he keeps his cleaning tools. ]
Thank you, Joshua, but I believe between the two of us we can manage.
[ Joshua gives them both a skeptical look, but considering he's known Benedict for nearly four years now, he doesn't try to voice a dissenting opinion. Tugging on his forelock like he's doffing a cap, he replies with an "Of course, Sir Benedict. Mrs Sorellin." and then wanders off, leaving them more or less to their own devices again.
Benedict hangs up his saber with no indication that lifting it one-handed is difficult at all. His gauntlet follows suit. During his usual every day, he might wear it casually, but as he is on his honeymoon, he has elected not to go about his own house armed. ]
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Date: 2026-02-19 08:48 pm (UTC)She turns her attention to Joshua and offers a kind smile. She's been introduced to most of the staff at the house. She hasn't quite gotten to know them well outside of her lady's maids. He takes his leave while Benedict begins putting away his weapons. He handles everything with such ease thanks to his warriorborn strength. He's an impressive man, suffice to say. ]
Is this where you do your training?
[ He disappears in the mornings to keep his body and skills honed. She really wishes to observe one day. ]
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Date: 2026-02-19 09:14 pm (UTC)[ He plucks things from her arms almost absently as they move from one place to another, then briefly glances over it all to make sure it's all where it should be before closing the cupboard door. ]
Truthfully, most of the time I use the training grounds, down at the Guardhouse.
[ The space is more expansive, and there are usually people around he can spar with. It works better for him, especially since then he doesn't have to feel too terribly guilty if he breaks something, and it works especially well for his fellow Guardsmen, who can practice going up against one of the warriorborn. ]
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Date: 2026-02-19 09:28 pm (UTC)The Guardhouse is also another place she's never been. She's not so sure if her presence would be welcome there. ]
May I watch one day? Is that allowed?
[ She knows there are spaces that aren't appropriate for ladies, but she's still hopeful. Once her arms are empty of items, she drops them to her sides. The bodice of her day dress now bear the marks of his gear though she isn't troubled by it. ]
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Date: 2026-02-19 09:41 pm (UTC)You can watch me train here any time you like. Provided, that is, [ he adds with a cheeky little smile, ] that you get up in time to do so.
[ It's unfair to tease her about sleeping in, he knows that, but he'll do it anyway. It's not his fault he's taken great pride in pleasing his wife in the morning, learning how to touch her and breathing in the scent of her, warm and relaxed and trusting. If she needs a nap after that... that's not his fault either.
He eyes her dress but says nothing, instead offering her his hand as he turns towards the door. ]
I don't think there's any edict against you watching at the Guardhouse, but I'm not sure you'll enjoy it very much. I can't vouch for everyone's manners.
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Date: 2026-02-19 09:53 pm (UTC)She takes his hand, so they can return to their wing with their private rooms. They've shared the same room since their wedding. Her trousseau and other items have been placed there, dresses folded or hung up with care. They find their places next to his like they've always belonged there. ]
As long as you're there, I'll enjoy. I need not mind bad manners from the others if I do not give them attention. So long as you're fine with it, I'd like to observe, it's here and at the Guardhouse.
[ They walk through the halls at a leisurely pace. There's no hurry. Supper is still a few hours out. This is usually when Francesca would read curled up by some warmth of the crystals, but she's better pleased to have her husband's warmth instead. ]
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