Mari & Janus - Awkward
Who: Mari and Janus
When: After this
Where: The Hour
Ratings & Warnings: 'Mari is sort of a dick' is a standard warning for all her logs. G!
It was rare that Janus met any success with girls. Well, he supposed this wasn't actually a success in and of itself. But it was a commencement, and he was more than amenable to that. Besides, it was trifling, really. Caelus would laugh at him for his sweating palms and jittery nerves. By Jove, he had no idea what Mari even looked like. She could be one of the Graeae as easily as she could be a Lucrezia Borgia. Focusing on the mental image of a grey woman with detachable eyes, he forced himself to calm down.
Janus entered the Hour as discreetly as possible, his eyes nervously shifting from left to right. No one was present. Pressing his lips together, he ventured further in. Feeling ridiculous, he stilled. Was she going to desert him? Nervously shoving his hands into his pockets, he began rolling on the soles of his feet.
Mari had her head in a book.
Nature abhorred a vacuum and even though her encounter with Moirine and Allen had not been long ago, she'd started to fill the empty space in her chest with books. Anatomical textbooks weren't selfish, nor deceitful; sitting with her shoulders against one of the walls of the entrance hall, she traced her finger over diagrams, mouthing the Latin names for labelled body parts. Full sentences were still frustratingly out of her league, but 'digitus', 'auris', 'caro', she knew these now.
Tapping the page, she looked up as she tried to remember the word for heart, and nearly jumped as she spotted the other person in the room. Ah, Janus. Another Stark, though apparently more taken with learning than Caelus. Pushing herself against the wall to her feet, she waved at him, then called. "Hiya. Janus?"
"Uhm, hi. Affirmative," he called back, approaching. His tone was chipper, but his voice was soft from years of trying to live on the fringes. That, and more nervousness. Mari was not a grey lady, and her being a normal human girl (or so he thought) was enough to set him off kilter.
Janus stood before her and gave another roll of his feet before blinking down at her book. Latin. "You are a healer?"
"Yes," Mari answered, then looked down at her book, mouth opening and shutting. Oh. He meant a doctor. In which case: "in training," she added quickly, with a quick grin. Closing the book, she tucked it beneath an arm and nodded at him. Her tongue touching her crooked front tooth, she examined him carefully. He certainly looked less a girl than Caelus did.
"You are related to Caelus?"
Janus was not proud of his smile. It was too wide, and his chinky features almost disappeared owing to the breadth of it. But he could not help responding to her grin with one of his own. The mention of Caelus only served to encourage his mirth.
"That I am," he responded, looking down. Likely he was a disappointment compared to his brother, but he was proud of Caelus all the same. "Though I suppose he and I are nothing alike."
He paused, a frown beginning to take the place of the grin. "Are he and you... particular friends?"
"Particular..." particular friends? Oh. Oh. "Are you asking me if I've had sex with your brother?"
As bad as she generally felt these days, the question - the way it'd been asked, the implications - she couldn't help but laugh at it.
Janus could not help the flush that stained his cheeks. He shuffled his feet awkwardly, still facing the floor. "He... does not appreciate my befriending his conquests, so - "
He looked up, shyly. Even if it was at his expense, she was laughing, right? His eyes returned to the floor. "So, yes, I am asking if you have had intercourse with Caelus."
If Mari had any sort of emotional intelligence, she'd know to treat the questioner with the dignity he afforded.
Instead she laughed even more, rocking back and forth on her heels. Caelus had his brother well trained, at least.
"You don't need to worry about that," she managed finally, once she found herself able to reign herself in. "You just- don't worry about it. Come on, I'll show you through to the library."
With a ghost of her confidence from the year before following her, she set off toward the library without checking to see if he was following.
Unsure of how to take her mirth, Janus simply followed along with her instructions. His steps were more hesitant than usual. He was not quite sure if Mari was typical of all of her sex or if her facetiousness was the norm. Either way, all women had been hurtful to him in one capacity or another. He was not surprised that the trend would continue despite his improvements.
"Do you understand Latin?" he asked suddenly. He realized the question was abrupt, but it would be nice to have someone to converse with in the language.
"Not entirely," Mari hesitated briefly, then added apologetically: "a few odd words, here and there. I only began to learn two weeks ago."
She didn't know enough for any potential surgeon. The reminder made her wince. "I still read a lot of Ancient Greek," she added, defensively. "Just, translated."
Janus looked up, cocking his head. He spoke slowly, hesitantly, "I would not mind teaching you."
Mari considered this as she bit the top of her thumb, eyes on the corridor in front of them. "Yeah, all right," she said after a moment. Extra lessons would always be useful. "I could use the extra work. Would you have time in between," she knocked her knuckles to his arm gently, half-heartedly, "doing whatever you do to get so strong?"
He'd managed to cheer her up. He did deserve to deal with something other than complete mopiness from her. Still, despite any surface cheer, she could already tell that internally her thoughts were getting distracted and restless. The urge to just turn to him and say 'actually, you know what, let's just leave it' and tell him to go, or to take her out for a drink was growing. Mari's right hand moved to her left shoulder, her thumb dipping to touch the string her crucifix was on. But she'd said they'd go to the library. they would go to the library. You couldn't be a slave to sudden irrational thought your entire life. If nothing else, she could at least fake happiness. What had Moirine said? Nobody lied more than she did.
"I am sure I could manage something," he replied, watching her carefully. For all her laughter, Janus had the suspicion that Mari wasn't as happy as she tried to appear. He presumed this was correct. While he had never been wonderful with people, he was fairly competent when it came to emotions.
Her unhappiness bothered him. No woman should ever have reason to be less than euphoric. Yes, if there was something Janus truly wanted in that moment, it was for Mari to be happy. Perhaps it would be best if he attempted to be cheerful, as well. Raising his chin, Janus lengthened his stride. As much as he could without looking too stupid, he put a little skip to his steps. Hopefully, they could both be happy if he tried hard enough.
"Is this how you usually occupy your time? Reading, that is?"
An idea was slowly beginning to bloom in the back of her mind. Be happy she thought to herself with force and found herself momentarily surprised; it took a lot to go from deciding to pretend to be happy to having an idea like that pop into her head and try to rearrange her emotions. Internally frowning at it, she skipped a few steps to keep up with him. She hadn't wanted to be fully happy a few minutes ago; being happy meant letting go of the pain Rhys' death had caused- if she let go of it completely, did that not mean that she just didn't care? No, she intended to rope off a small section of her heart to keep the pain, to keep her friend in, a garden of briars and roses both.
It was best to not think about that, she decided, turning her head to hear what he'd said better. "Reading? Yes. Also, chores. We do a lot of them."
"I cannot imagine how you find time for reading if you are so occupied with chores." But, then again, he so often read a lot in spite of his Guard work. Janus supposed people made way for the things they loved. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse.
He wondered what it was that Mari loved, that made her happy. Perhaps bringing those matters to discussion would improve her disposition. "What brought you to healing?"
"This is a place of learning, first and foremost," which meant that she could excuse a lot of the reading she felt guilty about - all of her poems - as improving her English or helping her gain better understanding of Tyrolian culture. "We do more reading than chores."
She slowed as they came to the library, frowning as she considered her answer. 'Everyone I love seems to die violently or come under some kind of threat' wasn't an answer she wanted to give - explaining it came with the threat of reliving it, and it seemed as though those memories were never far from her head. "I'm good at it," she shrugged, finally. "Why do you do whatever it is you do?"
"I will know to seek you out when I require medical assistance, then," he replied sincerely. The Guard did not lack for healers, but if she was skilled and enjoyed her work, Janus was more than happy to give her patronage.
Her question gave him pause. He could not say he particularly enjoyed Guard work. He was not exceptionally good at it either. He did derive some pleasure from helping the Lieutenant, maybe even the excuse for designing weapons.
"The Starks have always been in the Guard," he decided to say. "I am more than happy to follow in my late father's footsteps." He twiddled his thumbs nervously. "Does your family have history in healing, as well?"
"Come by any time." Rubbing her head, Mari nodded, distracted. Diana Stark was a lieutenant - probably good enough to be the next constable, or so Mari had heard. There was a thought; the woman was probably close to that already. The capture of high ranking Whispers like Silence would be a nice feather in her cap - a thought, an alternative to straight out killing him. Perhaps too dangerous in the long-run, though. "Haven't you given thought to taking another career?"
She pointed to herself. "My family was farmers. All of them." Or at least on Llewelyn's side they were. "I changed." She'd changed a lot. "Didn't feel like marrying a farmer and..."
She'd tried before to give voice to the collection of images and situations that she imagined staying with her mother would have led to. But she hadn't even been able to consider the long-term, to think about an alternate, perhaps even happier life until recently, and now it seemed impossible again. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders. "Didn't feel like staying."
"Once or twice." Being a historian had crossed his mind before. Getting into the family business, as well. But neither suited Janus' scattered thought process, nor his unshakeable awkwardness. "But the Guard is comfortable. Filial."
Janus could not help a small laugh at the thought of Mari as a farmer. She seemed far too... fragile for such an occupation. Indeed, better suited for books. "I do hope you have not had reason to regret leaving."
"Filial," her eyebrows knitted together at the word. English was something she'd learned for ten years, but still the occasional word managed to trip her up. A filly was a baby horse to her. "How do you mean?"
Oh, yeah, he definitely did not know her. "You have no idea," was her dry reply, pushing open the library door. Waving an arm as though to say 'tah-dah', she pointed. "There's lots in Latin there. Greek, too."
"Of, pertaining to, or befitting of a son or daughter," Janus recited from memory. He knew he was not a bright child, but if anything, he could be assiduous. It was unfortunate that his attentiveness was limited to certain topics, but better that than nothing. "What I meant to say was that the Guard felt like family."
Janus' eyes went wide at the sight of the Hour's library. It was much vaster than that of the Stark's - and were those banned texts? Awed, he walked up to one of the shelves and ran a hand over the many spines. "You could spend an eternity in here."
"Ah," it would have been more interesting with horses. "I guess it would do, with all your family in it." Just like farming would probably feel...filial. Well, not any more.
To that, she shrugged. The library had been amazing at first, but you grew used to even the most incredible things after a year of them. "There aren't as many translated texts as could be. But otherwise, it's good, yeah."
"I am quite willing to render you my translational services," Janus said absent-mindedly as he leafed through a text on minor Greek festivals. He would be lying if he said his primary purpose in coming was the Lenaia festival, but he might as well seize the opportunity while he was here...
Well, he ought not be rude either. He stopped reading, eyes leaving the book to face the Neophyte. "Perhaps you might direct me to your texts of interest?"
"That would be good," it would be nice not to have to rely on one of the others for information, she decided, leaning against a bookshelf.
At his question, she gave him a blank look. "It's all interesting, isn't it?" Or at least, she could find something to learn in all of them. A specific interest, though. Pushing off the bookshelf and standing up on her tiptoes, Mari looked around, then pointed. "I like treatises. By Ambroise Paré mostly. Surgical things, stuff about anatomy." Folklore and literature too - but that wasn't important.
All interesting... No, not all. Janus was particular about the matters that appealed to him and the matters that did not. He was not inherently intelligent, loath as he was to admit it. There was only so much he could process. If he was going to shove knowledge down his throat, he could at least enjoy it.
Take medicine, for one. Janus did not know or care much for it. But if his mucking through medicine would make a girl happy (a process he would most definitely enjoy), then there was some merit to the endeavor. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the name. It sounds Gallic, though. Would his works be in French?"
"I read it translated," she shrugged. "Je parle mal Français." The only French she knew. She didn't plan to learn more either, not for a while. Speaking the language would make it far too tempting to head toward France, for the medical colleges. She'd already finished one year here though; might as well complete the last three.
"He wrote a good treatise on amputation," Mari shrugged again, but the corners of her lips turned upwards. She did like how he wrote. And the man was so intelligent - a genius, in fact. He'd come from humble beginnings, like her, to revolutionise medicine. Even though she didn't want to set the medical world on fire as he'd done, he was still someone to look up to. "He has some incredible ideas. "See if you can find an account of his experiment with the cook and the bezoar stone." That story was a cruel one, though academically fascinating. "He's designed a lot of equipment too - quite the man."
If Paré's works had already been translated, then how could Janus help with those texts? Somewhat confused, Janus nodded along, unsure of how to best respond to her words. He really did not have the stomach for the more gruesome details of surgery, much less the thinking capacity to understand entirely.
"Perhaps you will be similar to him someday," he said slowly. That was an acceptable thing to say, was it not? People always liked comparisons with those they admired. "I am sure you have your fair share of incredible ideas."
"That's sweet of you," she told him with a smile. It was nice to get a compliment - all she'd had in the last month were people telling her...well, that wasn't important. None of them mattered any more, not Lucia, not even Moirine. Paying attention to what they said was no good for her. "Thanks."
She thought for a moment, then walked off towards a bookcase, coming back one of Plato's texts. "Have you read this?"
Janus smiled, running a hand over the familiar cover. "Yes, I have. Have you?"
He paused. "Because if you have not... This is the original text." His smile widened into his characteristic grin, bashful yet eager. "Would you want to start your 'lessons' with this?"
"I'm part way through," very interesting. She liked it when Socrates talked about things.
"I would," she agreed. It would be good to see how the text differed from the translated version. "Will you teach me well?" She gave him a winning smile at that, hoping for an amusing reaction.
Janus reddened like a tomato. He looked down for a moment to shuffle his feet, before looking up and grinning lopsidedly. "I w-will be the very best."
That was a good start. She touched his bicep gently, half moving to take his arm, then stopping. No. The last person she'd taken the arm of was Rhys. She didn't want to change that just yet. Instead, she patted his back. "When are you willing to take me for tuition?"
He looked down at her touch, still grinning stupidly.
"Right now, if it suits." Janus did not have anything else to do. He had done the bulk of his Guard work for the day, for he had yet to ask the lieutenant about taking the Bercator case. How better to spend his time than to tutor a pretty girl?
"In that case," she looked at the floor, trying to think of somewhere to take him. Her room was the most obvious place - her heart tugged a little, reluctant - her room was the best place. "My room's just down the hall from here."
Not waiting for his reaction, she set off in the direction of her room. No doubt it would be incredibly embarrassing for him to be kept in such close quarters with a girl, but...well, she didn't care all that much.
When: After this
Where: The Hour
Ratings & Warnings: 'Mari is sort of a dick' is a standard warning for all her logs. G!
It was rare that Janus met any success with girls. Well, he supposed this wasn't actually a success in and of itself. But it was a commencement, and he was more than amenable to that. Besides, it was trifling, really. Caelus would laugh at him for his sweating palms and jittery nerves. By Jove, he had no idea what Mari even looked like. She could be one of the Graeae as easily as she could be a Lucrezia Borgia. Focusing on the mental image of a grey woman with detachable eyes, he forced himself to calm down.
Janus entered the Hour as discreetly as possible, his eyes nervously shifting from left to right. No one was present. Pressing his lips together, he ventured further in. Feeling ridiculous, he stilled. Was she going to desert him? Nervously shoving his hands into his pockets, he began rolling on the soles of his feet.
Mari had her head in a book.
Nature abhorred a vacuum and even though her encounter with Moirine and Allen had not been long ago, she'd started to fill the empty space in her chest with books. Anatomical textbooks weren't selfish, nor deceitful; sitting with her shoulders against one of the walls of the entrance hall, she traced her finger over diagrams, mouthing the Latin names for labelled body parts. Full sentences were still frustratingly out of her league, but 'digitus', 'auris', 'caro', she knew these now.
Tapping the page, she looked up as she tried to remember the word for heart, and nearly jumped as she spotted the other person in the room. Ah, Janus. Another Stark, though apparently more taken with learning than Caelus. Pushing herself against the wall to her feet, she waved at him, then called. "Hiya. Janus?"
"Uhm, hi. Affirmative," he called back, approaching. His tone was chipper, but his voice was soft from years of trying to live on the fringes. That, and more nervousness. Mari was not a grey lady, and her being a normal human girl (or so he thought) was enough to set him off kilter.
Janus stood before her and gave another roll of his feet before blinking down at her book. Latin. "You are a healer?"
"Yes," Mari answered, then looked down at her book, mouth opening and shutting. Oh. He meant a doctor. In which case: "in training," she added quickly, with a quick grin. Closing the book, she tucked it beneath an arm and nodded at him. Her tongue touching her crooked front tooth, she examined him carefully. He certainly looked less a girl than Caelus did.
"You are related to Caelus?"
Janus was not proud of his smile. It was too wide, and his chinky features almost disappeared owing to the breadth of it. But he could not help responding to her grin with one of his own. The mention of Caelus only served to encourage his mirth.
"That I am," he responded, looking down. Likely he was a disappointment compared to his brother, but he was proud of Caelus all the same. "Though I suppose he and I are nothing alike."
He paused, a frown beginning to take the place of the grin. "Are he and you... particular friends?"
"Particular..." particular friends? Oh. Oh. "Are you asking me if I've had sex with your brother?"
As bad as she generally felt these days, the question - the way it'd been asked, the implications - she couldn't help but laugh at it.
Janus could not help the flush that stained his cheeks. He shuffled his feet awkwardly, still facing the floor. "He... does not appreciate my befriending his conquests, so - "
He looked up, shyly. Even if it was at his expense, she was laughing, right? His eyes returned to the floor. "So, yes, I am asking if you have had intercourse with Caelus."
If Mari had any sort of emotional intelligence, she'd know to treat the questioner with the dignity he afforded.
Instead she laughed even more, rocking back and forth on her heels. Caelus had his brother well trained, at least.
"You don't need to worry about that," she managed finally, once she found herself able to reign herself in. "You just- don't worry about it. Come on, I'll show you through to the library."
With a ghost of her confidence from the year before following her, she set off toward the library without checking to see if he was following.
Unsure of how to take her mirth, Janus simply followed along with her instructions. His steps were more hesitant than usual. He was not quite sure if Mari was typical of all of her sex or if her facetiousness was the norm. Either way, all women had been hurtful to him in one capacity or another. He was not surprised that the trend would continue despite his improvements.
"Do you understand Latin?" he asked suddenly. He realized the question was abrupt, but it would be nice to have someone to converse with in the language.
"Not entirely," Mari hesitated briefly, then added apologetically: "a few odd words, here and there. I only began to learn two weeks ago."
She didn't know enough for any potential surgeon. The reminder made her wince. "I still read a lot of Ancient Greek," she added, defensively. "Just, translated."
Janus looked up, cocking his head. He spoke slowly, hesitantly, "I would not mind teaching you."
Mari considered this as she bit the top of her thumb, eyes on the corridor in front of them. "Yeah, all right," she said after a moment. Extra lessons would always be useful. "I could use the extra work. Would you have time in between," she knocked her knuckles to his arm gently, half-heartedly, "doing whatever you do to get so strong?"
He'd managed to cheer her up. He did deserve to deal with something other than complete mopiness from her. Still, despite any surface cheer, she could already tell that internally her thoughts were getting distracted and restless. The urge to just turn to him and say 'actually, you know what, let's just leave it' and tell him to go, or to take her out for a drink was growing. Mari's right hand moved to her left shoulder, her thumb dipping to touch the string her crucifix was on. But she'd said they'd go to the library. they would go to the library. You couldn't be a slave to sudden irrational thought your entire life. If nothing else, she could at least fake happiness. What had Moirine said? Nobody lied more than she did.
"I am sure I could manage something," he replied, watching her carefully. For all her laughter, Janus had the suspicion that Mari wasn't as happy as she tried to appear. He presumed this was correct. While he had never been wonderful with people, he was fairly competent when it came to emotions.
Her unhappiness bothered him. No woman should ever have reason to be less than euphoric. Yes, if there was something Janus truly wanted in that moment, it was for Mari to be happy. Perhaps it would be best if he attempted to be cheerful, as well. Raising his chin, Janus lengthened his stride. As much as he could without looking too stupid, he put a little skip to his steps. Hopefully, they could both be happy if he tried hard enough.
"Is this how you usually occupy your time? Reading, that is?"
An idea was slowly beginning to bloom in the back of her mind. Be happy she thought to herself with force and found herself momentarily surprised; it took a lot to go from deciding to pretend to be happy to having an idea like that pop into her head and try to rearrange her emotions. Internally frowning at it, she skipped a few steps to keep up with him. She hadn't wanted to be fully happy a few minutes ago; being happy meant letting go of the pain Rhys' death had caused- if she let go of it completely, did that not mean that she just didn't care? No, she intended to rope off a small section of her heart to keep the pain, to keep her friend in, a garden of briars and roses both.
It was best to not think about that, she decided, turning her head to hear what he'd said better. "Reading? Yes. Also, chores. We do a lot of them."
"I cannot imagine how you find time for reading if you are so occupied with chores." But, then again, he so often read a lot in spite of his Guard work. Janus supposed people made way for the things they loved. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse.
He wondered what it was that Mari loved, that made her happy. Perhaps bringing those matters to discussion would improve her disposition. "What brought you to healing?"
"This is a place of learning, first and foremost," which meant that she could excuse a lot of the reading she felt guilty about - all of her poems - as improving her English or helping her gain better understanding of Tyrolian culture. "We do more reading than chores."
She slowed as they came to the library, frowning as she considered her answer. 'Everyone I love seems to die violently or come under some kind of threat' wasn't an answer she wanted to give - explaining it came with the threat of reliving it, and it seemed as though those memories were never far from her head. "I'm good at it," she shrugged, finally. "Why do you do whatever it is you do?"
"I will know to seek you out when I require medical assistance, then," he replied sincerely. The Guard did not lack for healers, but if she was skilled and enjoyed her work, Janus was more than happy to give her patronage.
Her question gave him pause. He could not say he particularly enjoyed Guard work. He was not exceptionally good at it either. He did derive some pleasure from helping the Lieutenant, maybe even the excuse for designing weapons.
"The Starks have always been in the Guard," he decided to say. "I am more than happy to follow in my late father's footsteps." He twiddled his thumbs nervously. "Does your family have history in healing, as well?"
"Come by any time." Rubbing her head, Mari nodded, distracted. Diana Stark was a lieutenant - probably good enough to be the next constable, or so Mari had heard. There was a thought; the woman was probably close to that already. The capture of high ranking Whispers like Silence would be a nice feather in her cap - a thought, an alternative to straight out killing him. Perhaps too dangerous in the long-run, though. "Haven't you given thought to taking another career?"
She pointed to herself. "My family was farmers. All of them." Or at least on Llewelyn's side they were. "I changed." She'd changed a lot. "Didn't feel like marrying a farmer and..."
She'd tried before to give voice to the collection of images and situations that she imagined staying with her mother would have led to. But she hadn't even been able to consider the long-term, to think about an alternate, perhaps even happier life until recently, and now it seemed impossible again. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders. "Didn't feel like staying."
"Once or twice." Being a historian had crossed his mind before. Getting into the family business, as well. But neither suited Janus' scattered thought process, nor his unshakeable awkwardness. "But the Guard is comfortable. Filial."
Janus could not help a small laugh at the thought of Mari as a farmer. She seemed far too... fragile for such an occupation. Indeed, better suited for books. "I do hope you have not had reason to regret leaving."
"Filial," her eyebrows knitted together at the word. English was something she'd learned for ten years, but still the occasional word managed to trip her up. A filly was a baby horse to her. "How do you mean?"
Oh, yeah, he definitely did not know her. "You have no idea," was her dry reply, pushing open the library door. Waving an arm as though to say 'tah-dah', she pointed. "There's lots in Latin there. Greek, too."
"Of, pertaining to, or befitting of a son or daughter," Janus recited from memory. He knew he was not a bright child, but if anything, he could be assiduous. It was unfortunate that his attentiveness was limited to certain topics, but better that than nothing. "What I meant to say was that the Guard felt like family."
Janus' eyes went wide at the sight of the Hour's library. It was much vaster than that of the Stark's - and were those banned texts? Awed, he walked up to one of the shelves and ran a hand over the many spines. "You could spend an eternity in here."
"Ah," it would have been more interesting with horses. "I guess it would do, with all your family in it." Just like farming would probably feel...filial. Well, not any more.
To that, she shrugged. The library had been amazing at first, but you grew used to even the most incredible things after a year of them. "There aren't as many translated texts as could be. But otherwise, it's good, yeah."
"I am quite willing to render you my translational services," Janus said absent-mindedly as he leafed through a text on minor Greek festivals. He would be lying if he said his primary purpose in coming was the Lenaia festival, but he might as well seize the opportunity while he was here...
Well, he ought not be rude either. He stopped reading, eyes leaving the book to face the Neophyte. "Perhaps you might direct me to your texts of interest?"
"That would be good," it would be nice not to have to rely on one of the others for information, she decided, leaning against a bookshelf.
At his question, she gave him a blank look. "It's all interesting, isn't it?" Or at least, she could find something to learn in all of them. A specific interest, though. Pushing off the bookshelf and standing up on her tiptoes, Mari looked around, then pointed. "I like treatises. By Ambroise Paré mostly. Surgical things, stuff about anatomy." Folklore and literature too - but that wasn't important.
All interesting... No, not all. Janus was particular about the matters that appealed to him and the matters that did not. He was not inherently intelligent, loath as he was to admit it. There was only so much he could process. If he was going to shove knowledge down his throat, he could at least enjoy it.
Take medicine, for one. Janus did not know or care much for it. But if his mucking through medicine would make a girl happy (a process he would most definitely enjoy), then there was some merit to the endeavor. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the name. It sounds Gallic, though. Would his works be in French?"
"I read it translated," she shrugged. "Je parle mal Français." The only French she knew. She didn't plan to learn more either, not for a while. Speaking the language would make it far too tempting to head toward France, for the medical colleges. She'd already finished one year here though; might as well complete the last three.
"He wrote a good treatise on amputation," Mari shrugged again, but the corners of her lips turned upwards. She did like how he wrote. And the man was so intelligent - a genius, in fact. He'd come from humble beginnings, like her, to revolutionise medicine. Even though she didn't want to set the medical world on fire as he'd done, he was still someone to look up to. "He has some incredible ideas. "See if you can find an account of his experiment with the cook and the bezoar stone." That story was a cruel one, though academically fascinating. "He's designed a lot of equipment too - quite the man."
If Paré's works had already been translated, then how could Janus help with those texts? Somewhat confused, Janus nodded along, unsure of how to best respond to her words. He really did not have the stomach for the more gruesome details of surgery, much less the thinking capacity to understand entirely.
"Perhaps you will be similar to him someday," he said slowly. That was an acceptable thing to say, was it not? People always liked comparisons with those they admired. "I am sure you have your fair share of incredible ideas."
"That's sweet of you," she told him with a smile. It was nice to get a compliment - all she'd had in the last month were people telling her...well, that wasn't important. None of them mattered any more, not Lucia, not even Moirine. Paying attention to what they said was no good for her. "Thanks."
She thought for a moment, then walked off towards a bookcase, coming back one of Plato's texts. "Have you read this?"
Janus smiled, running a hand over the familiar cover. "Yes, I have. Have you?"
He paused. "Because if you have not... This is the original text." His smile widened into his characteristic grin, bashful yet eager. "Would you want to start your 'lessons' with this?"
"I'm part way through," very interesting. She liked it when Socrates talked about things.
"I would," she agreed. It would be good to see how the text differed from the translated version. "Will you teach me well?" She gave him a winning smile at that, hoping for an amusing reaction.
Janus reddened like a tomato. He looked down for a moment to shuffle his feet, before looking up and grinning lopsidedly. "I w-will be the very best."
That was a good start. She touched his bicep gently, half moving to take his arm, then stopping. No. The last person she'd taken the arm of was Rhys. She didn't want to change that just yet. Instead, she patted his back. "When are you willing to take me for tuition?"
He looked down at her touch, still grinning stupidly.
"Right now, if it suits." Janus did not have anything else to do. He had done the bulk of his Guard work for the day, for he had yet to ask the lieutenant about taking the Bercator case. How better to spend his time than to tutor a pretty girl?
"In that case," she looked at the floor, trying to think of somewhere to take him. Her room was the most obvious place - her heart tugged a little, reluctant - her room was the best place. "My room's just down the hall from here."
Not waiting for his reaction, she set off in the direction of her room. No doubt it would be incredibly embarrassing for him to be kept in such close quarters with a girl, but...well, she didn't care all that much.