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No True Pair Sept. 18 - Algy & Bertie
Okay, now I'm definitely just doing these in whatever order I want. I had some trouble figuring out what I might write with these two, but then I remembered one book in which they're both in the same location for a while is Biggles in the Terai, and, welp. Writing tags for that book is always such a hardship.
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September Eighteen - Algy & Bertie - darkest before dawn
"Hello, old man," Bertie said, pushing into Algy's room in the guesthouse in Shara. "Saw a light still on up here, and thought you might want a late supper."
It was sticky and hot in the room. The window stood half open, curtain drawn and insects battering the screen. Algy smiled a greeting, although it sat strangely on his thin, pale face, and pushed himself up on one elbow. It didn't look like he'd been reading, or doing much of anything at all. An open book and a game with scattered pieces lay on the table at his elbow. As far as Bertie could tell, he'd been staring at nothing.
"Yes, thank you, I wouldn't mind it," Algy said, barely glancing at the tray. "Where's Biggles?"
"He'll be tied up for a while yet, I'm afraid. You'll have to settle for me."
For the first time that evening, Bertie saw a true smile on Algy's face, something more like his usual cheerful, infectious grin. "I think I can make do," he said, and Bertie grinned back as he cleared a space for the tray on the table.
"Mind if I stay a bit? I'm frightfully in the way down there."
"Sure, I don't mind," Algy said. He leaned back against the pillows stacked on the headboard, and half-closed his eyes while Bertie poured tea for both of them.
"I can leave, if you'd rather be alone," Bertie said diffidently. He placed a cup in Algy's thin hand, supported it beneath until Algy had a firm grip on it.
"No," Algy said, his eyes still closed. He opened them, and blinked a little, getting his bearings. "No, I—got used to Mahomad Khan being there, though it seems a bit silly to miss it now. It was just, when I'd wake, he was usually there. But I was in the jungle, of course, and there is much more to be wary of out there."
"A few things can bite here, too," Bertie murmured, thinking of assassins. He buttered a slice of bread. "Well, I'll stay up here for a bit, out of the way where I can't do any harm."
Algy flashed another of those quick, familiar smiles. He sat up a little and took the bread to nibble on. "I seem to recall you're fairly dangerous when you put your mind to it ... Did you and Biggles bag a tiger, by the way?"
"Not the striped kind, 'mafraid."
"Good enough, good enough," Algy said quietly, resting his head back against the pillows.
Bertie thought Algy might have been drifting off, and kept an eye on the tilting teacup, but then Algy jerked awake and half sat up. "Ah," he said, and drank a little from the cup. "What time is it?"
"Late. Little past two."
"What time's daybreak?"
"Er—six or so, I think?"
"Mmm. Not so long." Algy rested his head against the pillows again. "It was the nights," he said suddenly.
"Sorry, old boy?"
"The nights—you know? I've never seen such dark nights. Mahomad Khan would sleep—of course he would, no man can stay awake all the time. But the night was so dark. So alive. I've never heard such a ... a living darkness. I don't know how Biggles can stand it, to tell you the truth."
Algy spoke to no one in particular, looking toward the wall rather than at Bertie. Remembering the cup in his hand, he took a gulp of tea, a small bite of the bread, then set both down.
"You know," Bertie said. "I think we've both seen our share of late nights—if you know what I mean? It's in the dark that you can't see the enemy coming. Bally hard to shake off that feeling, even in the jolly old light of day, what? Perfectly natural."
Algy made a soft sound, half of a dry laugh. He reached for the cup of tea, but what he found was Bertie's hand, reaching to receive his. Algy's fingers were thin and cold, but they grasped Bertie's with a surprising strength, and held on tight.
"I have nowhere else I need to be," Bertie said quietly. "We could play cards, if you'd like that. Or read. I might read out loud, if you think you'd—"
He fell silent; Algy's head had tipped back on the pillows, and he'd fallen asleep with shocking suddenness, from one moment to the next, still holding Bertie's hand in an unbreakable grip.
Bertie shifted position a little so that he could sit more comfortably without breaking the clasp of their hands. He reached for the book lying open on the nightstand and placed it on his knee so he could read by the light of the lamp. His grip didn't slacken for an instant.
Ficlet master list in this post
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September Eighteen - Algy & Bertie - darkest before dawn
"Hello, old man," Bertie said, pushing into Algy's room in the guesthouse in Shara. "Saw a light still on up here, and thought you might want a late supper."
It was sticky and hot in the room. The window stood half open, curtain drawn and insects battering the screen. Algy smiled a greeting, although it sat strangely on his thin, pale face, and pushed himself up on one elbow. It didn't look like he'd been reading, or doing much of anything at all. An open book and a game with scattered pieces lay on the table at his elbow. As far as Bertie could tell, he'd been staring at nothing.
"Yes, thank you, I wouldn't mind it," Algy said, barely glancing at the tray. "Where's Biggles?"
"He'll be tied up for a while yet, I'm afraid. You'll have to settle for me."
For the first time that evening, Bertie saw a true smile on Algy's face, something more like his usual cheerful, infectious grin. "I think I can make do," he said, and Bertie grinned back as he cleared a space for the tray on the table.
"Mind if I stay a bit? I'm frightfully in the way down there."
"Sure, I don't mind," Algy said. He leaned back against the pillows stacked on the headboard, and half-closed his eyes while Bertie poured tea for both of them.
"I can leave, if you'd rather be alone," Bertie said diffidently. He placed a cup in Algy's thin hand, supported it beneath until Algy had a firm grip on it.
"No," Algy said, his eyes still closed. He opened them, and blinked a little, getting his bearings. "No, I—got used to Mahomad Khan being there, though it seems a bit silly to miss it now. It was just, when I'd wake, he was usually there. But I was in the jungle, of course, and there is much more to be wary of out there."
"A few things can bite here, too," Bertie murmured, thinking of assassins. He buttered a slice of bread. "Well, I'll stay up here for a bit, out of the way where I can't do any harm."
Algy flashed another of those quick, familiar smiles. He sat up a little and took the bread to nibble on. "I seem to recall you're fairly dangerous when you put your mind to it ... Did you and Biggles bag a tiger, by the way?"
"Not the striped kind, 'mafraid."
"Good enough, good enough," Algy said quietly, resting his head back against the pillows.
Bertie thought Algy might have been drifting off, and kept an eye on the tilting teacup, but then Algy jerked awake and half sat up. "Ah," he said, and drank a little from the cup. "What time is it?"
"Late. Little past two."
"What time's daybreak?"
"Er—six or so, I think?"
"Mmm. Not so long." Algy rested his head against the pillows again. "It was the nights," he said suddenly.
"Sorry, old boy?"
"The nights—you know? I've never seen such dark nights. Mahomad Khan would sleep—of course he would, no man can stay awake all the time. But the night was so dark. So alive. I've never heard such a ... a living darkness. I don't know how Biggles can stand it, to tell you the truth."
Algy spoke to no one in particular, looking toward the wall rather than at Bertie. Remembering the cup in his hand, he took a gulp of tea, a small bite of the bread, then set both down.
"You know," Bertie said. "I think we've both seen our share of late nights—if you know what I mean? It's in the dark that you can't see the enemy coming. Bally hard to shake off that feeling, even in the jolly old light of day, what? Perfectly natural."
Algy made a soft sound, half of a dry laugh. He reached for the cup of tea, but what he found was Bertie's hand, reaching to receive his. Algy's fingers were thin and cold, but they grasped Bertie's with a surprising strength, and held on tight.
"I have nowhere else I need to be," Bertie said quietly. "We could play cards, if you'd like that. Or read. I might read out loud, if you think you'd—"
He fell silent; Algy's head had tipped back on the pillows, and he'd fallen asleep with shocking suddenness, from one moment to the next, still holding Bertie's hand in an unbreakable grip.
Bertie shifted position a little so that he could sit more comfortably without breaking the clasp of their hands. He reached for the book lying open on the nightstand and placed it on his knee so he could read by the light of the lamp. His grip didn't slacken for an instant.
Ficlet master list in this post
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that is all.
Edited to add: That is NOT all, this is gorgeous, all the Terai-based fic please. I absolutely adore Algy immediately falling asleep when Bertie takes his hand </333
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He needs ALL the comfort after that book and I am strongly in favor of all the Terai fic forever. <3 Thank you!!
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This is gorgeous and touching and oh Algy, he's going to need a bit of cossetting for a while, and Bertie is just right here <333
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Awwww Algy ♥
But the night was so dark. So alive. I've never heard such a ... a living darkness. I don't know how Biggles can stand it, to tell you the truth."
I absolutely love this reference to Biggles' upbringing because yeah, he really can handle things that people brought up in a city would find incredibly jarring.
I loved this!
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Algy needs all the petting after this book. ;__;
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I have zero context for this but it’s really lovely.
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