Come Sail Away

March 13, 2009

It was threatening to storm as they crossed the Baltic Sea from Estonia to Finland. That didn't stop Alfred from wandering onto the deck of the ferry and leaning on the railing, letting the choppy wind twist through his hair with a strange, flat expression on his face.

Toris watched him from the relative safety of the upper deck cabin. Al had changed a lot since they'd started this trip; he was quieter, less excitable, smiled a little less. He hadn't really gotten sadder, but he'd mellowed, and it concerned Toris some. His client wasn't supposed to mellow, it wasn't in his nature or his blood.

He left Feliks talking to Arthur about college and the merits and drawbacks of worthless English degrees as he pushed out the door into the salt wind, walking over to lean next to Al. They didn't say anything, and Al didn't even flicker his eyes, but he knew Al knew he was there.

"Storm's coming," he said eventually, breaking the human silence. Al shrugged.

"Maybe. Ocean storms are weird." He tilted back to look up at the clouds, then all around. "I think it'll pass us by without even a raindrop."

Toris snorted at him. "Since when did you know so much about weather patterns?"

Al grinned. "S'just a feeling." The grin faded, and he went back to staring over the water. Toris's feet settled into the flow of the ferry, watching the dark Baltic water pass by meters below in a hypnotic rhythm.

"Hey, Toris?" He jerked out of his trance at Al's sudden voice, then glanced over to see Al still watching the waves, biting some dead skin off his lip. He waited. Al sighed, chin falling to his chest. "I think I'm done."

Toris blinked at him. "Done with what?"

"Done with traveling, done with suitcases, done with acting, done with... this," he said with a gesture that encompassed all the months back. "I want to go home. Hell, I even want to go to school." He laughed a little and put his chin in his hands. "How weird is that?"

"Not very, actually." The shoulder under his touch when he reached out was tension-sprung. "How long have you felt like this, Al?"

Al smiled sheepishly, not a grin. "A while, I guess. I just..." He heaved a sigh, looked away again. "Didn't know how to tell you. You and Mom and Dad have put so much into this, and it really has been great, especially at the beginning! But... I just feel smaller than before, or something. Tired. I'm ready for my house again." He hunched into himself a little, and Toris's hand on his shoulder went to rub his back through his bomber jacket.

Toris thought. Eight months was a long time to be away from anywhere, and even though Al was an experienced actor and had traveled pretty extensively away from home during his short life, he was still only eighteen. Maybe they'd put too much pressure on him, expecting him to work in foreign countries fresh out of high school while still applying and preparing for university in the fall. It was rather a lot to put on one teenaged boy's shoulders. Maybe it would be healthier - for all of them - to cut the trip short.

And anyway, Feliks had been complaining about his limited fashion choices for weeks now.

"Tell you what." Al lifted his head. "Why don't we go inside, talk about it with the other two, and then I'll make a few calls. I'm sure the rest of your auditions won't mind one less contestant, and we can get to the ferry to England faster that way." Al beamed and threw his arms around him, lifting his feet clear of the deck. Toris laughed and patted his back until he was set down.

"You're seriously the best, Toris. Thanks." Toris smiled at him fondly.

"Just don't wait so long to tell me something like that again, okay? I'm your agent, not your slave driver." Al shook his hair in front of his face to hide his sheepish grin. Toris stepped towards the cabin with Arthur and Feliks. "C'mon, let's go talk it out."

While Al and Toris talked outside, Arthur and Feliks were having their own advice session away from the Baltic Sea wind.

"Honestly, you have more power in your university name that you might know," Feliks said, leaning back against the ferry pleather seat and sprawling out. "People'll respect you when you say Oxford, no matter how good you actually were when you were there, or what you studied." Arthur snorted and dug into his bag of chips absentmindedly.

"I've begun to realize that." He sighed and leaned back to mirror Feliks. "I don't know, Fel. I'm just worried about everything these days." He bent a leg up to his chest and hugged it, frowning out the window. "I want to know if this is where I'm supposed to be."

Feliks shrugged. "Supposed to or not, it's where you are. It'll work itself out, you'll see." He smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "You're a smart kid, sweetie. Someone will see that, I'm sure." Arthur grunted, but didn't let up on his frown. Feliks watched him for a moment, then sighed dramatically and propped his elbow on his knee to lean his chin on his hand. "Look, I went the whole English degree route too, y'know?" Arthur looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he grinned. "I mean, I knew I had to go to college or my fam would, like, kill me, but I didn't know what I wanted to do. It took most of getting that degree to figure out I really wanted to paint instead, and another few years to start painting faces." He smiled, and Arthur snorted in disbelief.

"But you love what you do – I'd always assumed you'd grown up doing your mum's makeup or something."

Feliks laughed and fell back into his earlier sprawl. "You kiddin'? My mom hates wearing makeup, and I have three brothers. I didn't so much as touch makeup until I was out of that house. I mean, they're supportive and they didn't, like, kick me out or anything, but… it took a while for them to get used to all of this." He gestured to his appearance, striped V-neck shirt and Parisian scarf included.

"I'm sorry." Feliks shrugged.

"Whatevs, they're over it now and so am I. Of course, finding Toris probably helped that out." He glanced out towards his fiancé, who was busy doing the same sort of consoling to Al. Arthur chuckled, pulling him back.

"Yeah, he's probably every parent's dream son-in-law." They were quiet for a moment; Feliks broke it with a laugh and an easy shove.

"What I'm getting at is don't worry so much, kid. If you were meant to do something, then you were meant to do it. It'll happen, one way or another."

Arthur smiled slightly. "Thanks." He emptied the crumbs of his chips into his mouth. "I just want to make people think, or help them figure out how to think. Or both." He ran his hands through his hair, chip bag falling to his side. "I just don't know how."

"One way or another, you'll figure it out. Just don't, like, let what you study decide for you." They smiled at each other, but movement at the cabin door drew their attention to Toris and Al coming back inside. Arthur made eye contact with Al, and the relief there, coupled with Toris's sigh, told him all he needed to know about what the outside conversation had covered.

He would get to go home.

{A/N: Truck truck truckin' along. Also, if y'all haven't seen it, I posted another alternate scene thing for 'Baffled King/Idiot Hero' here. It's called Trydydd Sylfaen, and if you feel like looking up what that means you get a gold star.}