Trelawny stretched out his long legs, leaning back on his hands as he did, giving a small, pleased noise, a hum in the back of his throat. Every movement he made seemed to whisper repose in the fire’s glow, beckoning Kieran nearer. This camp was no hunting lodge in the mountains, but an artisan of his craft, Trelawny can make do. “You’re alright, no one’s going to bother you, I promise. If I can see you toiling away and near freezing the end of your nose off for it, they can too.” He kept a soft, friendly tone with Kieran, he’d sussed him out the moment he’d laid eyes on him; new, nervous, like a frightened rabbit in so many ways. He hadn’t known the Van Der Linde gang as long as Trelawny had, not long enough to know that their bark could be worse than their bite in alot of ways. But the bite was oh so very vicious all the same. But, he had no clue about the other’s status as an O’Driscoll, the foul-spat word he’d heard so many times. Yet, conveniently, not yet aimed at Kieran.
Eyes pulled back to the fire, Trelawny sat up, clasping his hands between his knees and looking into the flames curiously, a half-smile drifting across his lips like the embers above. “I usually am, for what it’s worth. Right about people, things..” Prodding at the fire with a stick, trying to get it a shade warmer for the other man. Flashing a coy glance at Kieran, he felt his lips twitch into a grin. “Oh, now who told you that? Mary-Beth?” Shifting himself to eye Kieran quietly, he gave a small dip of his head, idly beginning to fiddle with a bit of twiggery he’d plucked away from his fire-poking branch. “I do indeed do magic, and not the simple vanishing trick of your wallet and coin like so many amateurs.”
Curling his wrist in an odd little way, and letting the twig lay on the palm of his hand, there was a pause. Then it blinked. The twig blinked. And stepped off Trelawny’s hand, tumbling down onto the log and scurrying off underneath a leaf, the little stick-bug earnest to escape the, for him, sweltering heat of the fire.
“You don’t see very many of those little blokes around anymore, I don’t think you’re supposed to in the first place.” Trelawny mused.
THE MAN SEEMS SO COMFORTABLE in his skin, in their little place by the fire. he exudes confidence. a confidence kieran has lost along the way, during a humbling life. the other seems, perhaps, a little overexcited ( and the younger wonders if there is a specific reason or if that’s just how he is ) but it is in no way unpleasant. on the contrary, he’s quite happy to sit with one that’ll make up for the lack of words that come from kieran. it’s not that he doesn’t like to talk, but he’s learned over the years to be careful around strangers, to test the waters and observe before letting oneself go. however, soothing words already tempt him to do so. and an only slightly wider smile spreads upon his lips. there’s no real chance to reply to the question before the other goes on. as trelawny pokes around in the burnt wood kieran shifts to lean a little closer to the emanating heat, rubbing slowly warming palms together. he keeps eyes trained on the bits of twig within the other’s hand, blinks when something seems to illuminate them but doesn’t really catch sight of what exactly happens atop the upturned palm until the bug he’d not realized had been there jumps off and crawls across the earth. he’s unsure what to say, unsure if there’s a logical explanation or if the man had the bug hidden in his sleeve. quietly kieran stares at the leaf the creature had disappeared beneath.
surely he must use magic tricks for stealing. all of them use what talents they have, don’t they ? maybe kieran is wrong and trelawny’s appearance is fooling. maybe he does get his hands dirty . . . goes to rob trains with the others. the question of how exactly the other contributes to dutch’s gang keeps poking his mind. curious gaze meets the other man’s once more. “ but do you . . . do the wallet trick ? ”
dailybridgerton
2087
discoholicmusic
titsay
