autumnteawithfriends - Tumblr blog

autumnteawithfriends · 5 days ago

Note

Well done on 150 followers, they are well deserved!

For the writing prompts, we've seen Duncan showing emotion and being softer, so what about Sir Handel being soft around the others? How would he react if he had to put his ego aside for emotion and vulnerability, would he be able to do it for long? Would it show that he actually does care about his friends and does have a soft side, or would it reveal different sides of his personality?

Sorry, I can never keep things short for some reason, but I hope that all of that makes sense. Thank you.

Aww, thank you so much~! 💖 I am MORE than happy to write about Sir Handel; he's such a great character! This turned out to be more of a dialogue-heavy character study than anything, but I hope you enjoy!

(Thank you so, SO much to everyone who has submitted prompts! If you have a prompt idea, or want to see what I've written so far, take a look here!)

Culdee's visit had been brief, but fun--at least, to Skarloey and Rheneas. Sir Handel and Duncan had enjoyed themselves somewhat less after hearing Culdee's story about Godred, but after a few days, normalcy thankfully returned on the Skarloey Railway.

That said, given what had happened while their visitor had been here, Sir Handel was now more sure than ever that he did not much care for Rheneas. The SR's No. 2 had returned just last year to great fanfare, and as far as the younger engine was concerned, the whole affair was rather overblown. Truthfully, Sir Handel been quite excited when Skarloey had returned from his overhaul, but that was because Skarloey had at least bothered to teach and encourage him; all Rheneas had done ever since they'd (properly) met was give lectures and be naggy.

"Sir Handel, you were late again."

"Sir Handel, you were awfully rough with the coaches!"

"Sir Handel, you really shouldn't beg for your driver to throw crisps into your firebox."

Nag, nag, nag, on and on. It wasn't as though he wanted to be late, or rough, or anything else! He was trying his best, same as any other engine here, yet only he seemed to be on the receiving end of Rheneas' criticism. (He had wanted to try his driver's crisps, though.) It just wasn't fair, but beyond that, far beyond what Sir Handel was willing to admit, he couldn't deny that he was a little scared. Scared that because Rheneas was such a pillar of the railway, his disapproval could mean that his years on this railway would all be for naught. The thought was enough to make him even grouchier than usual, much to the displeasure of his crew.

So, Sir Handel had taken to avoiding Rheneas as best as he possibly could--difficult, given how closely they all worked, but still possible, at least to an extent.

One fine, sunny afternoon, Sir Handel was back at the sheds, happily enjoying a wash and a polish. His eyes were at rest as the warm sunlight washed across his face, blanketing him in its quiet serenity. The cleaners were attending to him carefully, removing every spot and splotch, and the engine felt himself relax, settling as happily into his frames as a cat in the sun as he basked in the care of experienced yet gentle hands.

Despite how much he longed for this comfort to continue for eternity, like all wonderful things, it was bound to end eventually. The peace and quiet of the moment was soon disrupted by the sound of wheels on the track and the familiar hush of steam that heralded another engine's approach. A long shadow encroached upon Sir Handel's sunlit cheek, growing longer and longer still until it eclipsed the sun as Rheneas pulled up to face him, parking himself only a short distance away. The older engine said nothing, but his crew quickly clambered out of his cab, made small talk with the cleaners, and headed for the station, clearly taking their break. The cleaners and Sir Handel's own crew, perhaps prompted by their co-workers, set aside their rags and suds and followed their fellows, leaving the two engines to their lonesome.

As Sir Handel cracked open one lazy eye, annoyance written all over his face, the cloudy expression of the engine before him implied that this was not likely to be a pleasant (or quick) conversation.

Unfortunately, it appeared that Sir Handel's premonition was correct, as the first words out of Rheneas' mouth were "I've been looking to speak with you, Sir Handel. It's about what you said last week."

The No. 3 couldn't help but groan. Of course. Rheneas didn't want to talk about how well he'd done at being on time, or about how he'd improved at shunting, even if he didn't particularly enjoy it. No, this was about the coaches, because God only knew that the coaches were FAR more important than he could ever be. "Yes, yes, you're here to lecture me about saying that those cattle trucks ought to be scrapped. Well, I'll say it again, if you'd like. Those cattle trucks ought to be scrapped."

Rheneas furrowed his brow, and Sir Handel felt a momentary thrill at the idea of rendering even Rheneas speechless. "You shouldn't say such things," the older engine managed at last. "Even if they can be stubborn, they are your co-workers, and you would condemn them to death for doing their best?! Even as a joke, that's going much too far!"

With a roll of his eyes, Sir Handel let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, please! Doing their best? I'm the one who does his best for this railway, and yet they can't get it through their thick paneling that I'm not out to get them! I just want them to do their jobs so that I'm not always played for a fool! Is that so much to ask?!"

A look of contemplation seemed to pass across Rheneas' face, and after a long moment, the older engine murmured, "...This is about more than just the coaches, isn't it?"

Sir Handel hated himself for the way he flinched at that comment, and he quickly fished through his thoughts for any kind of rebuttal. However, before he could come up with anything, Rheneas pushed forward, seemingly disinclined to let him deflect. "You've been here for about 10 years now, Sir Handel. You're a hard worker, even if you can be fussy. Skarloey says that you've come a long way from the engine that you used to be, but you seem to have some issue with the coaches that, from the sound of it, is actually about more than that. I know that we haven't exactly seen eye to eye over the past year that we've known each other, but still... what's going on? I can't help resolve things if I don't understand the issue."

The younger engine's eyes narrowed in response to Rheneas' words. "I don't see why you'd care. You clearly think more highly about those blasted coaches than about us other engines, so what's it matter to you?"

The barb landed, and just as Sir Handel had hoped, a spark of anger now burned in Rheneas' eyes. Good. He much preferred to fight it out than admit anything to this old rustbucket. In the back of his mind, Sir Handel began assembling his next stinging comment, when suddenly, Rheneas closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. When he opened them, the anger had been doused, replaced by a certain determination. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Sir Handel. I truly am. However--"

"NO!" came a shout that Sir Handel belatedly realized had come from him. A beat of silence passed before another quiet "No" escaped him, weary and warbling. "Don't. Don't act like you're sorry. You always take those coaches' side, but you don't care about what happens to us!" A fever was overtaking him, and even though he wasn't in steam, Sir Handel felt like fire was streaking through his tubes, dancing along his cylinders. If he did have a fire going, it would most surely have been at the level of a raging inferno. "I am trying! I AM! And I am NOT going to be sent away and lose my place here just because you keep finding a hundred little things to fault me on and those stupid coaches won't cooperate! I won't go! I won't--"

"SIR HANDEL!"

At Rheneas' shout, the younger engine suddenly realized just how much he'd said, and about what, and promptly bit his lip as if to muzzle himself. The No. 2's eyes were wide, and his expression was akin to the terror and worry felt by someone beholding some small, wounded creature that was still quite capable of lashing out. "Sir Handel, I... I have no intention of getting you sent away. Absolutely none. I..."

Another shaky breath, and then: "What are you so afraid of?"

To that, Sir Handel had no ready answer. The silence stretched between them like a chasm, wide and yawning, with neither engine completely sure of how to proceed.

However, at long last, Sir Handel seemed to find both his words and his nerve. "I... well, I just..." After a little more hemming and hawing, the younger finally forced the feelings into coherent words, practically spitting them out. "I don't want to lose my home again!"

Before he could stop himself, the words came tumbling out like a deluge, his tongue practically tripping over itself as he spoke. "I just want to be safe, ok? Is that so much to ask? The MSR closed, and even though it was a terrible railway, it was still home. Then, the aluminum plant decided it didn't want us anymore, even though we did everything we could. And now, those stupid cattle trucks make me look bad, and I know what kind of punishments bad engines get. They could be turned into pumping engines or generators, or scrapped, or any such thing--"

"Alright, alright," Rheneas interjected, attempting to stymie Sir Handel's spiral. "I promise you, Sir Handel, that nothing of the sort will happen to you. Truly. I don't know what kind of life you've lived before coming to our railway, but our Controller would never do such things to you, and he certainly won't send you away. Not for this. I'm sure that he can see how much you've improved, and truthfully, all of my nagging is because I want to help. You can ask Skarloey; I nagged him quite often when we were young, all in the name of helping him better himself."

It now seemed to be Rheneas' turn to bare his soul as the older engine licked his lips and continued to speak, his voice as fragile as glass. "I... well, for almost a century, it has always been myself, Skarloey, and our five coaches running this line. I only met you and Peter Sam briefly before I was sent away for overhaul, and when I came back, there were now four of you, and five more coaches. It... it was a lot of change all at once, and I confess that I... have not been the best at processing all of it and knowing how I should act. I'm... I'm truly sorry to have failed you as badly as I have. I have not been as good of a mentor as one would hope, and..."

"...I am sorry that I have ever made you feel unsafe in your own home."

There was another long silence as the two engines could only stare at each other, as though peering into each other's souls and trawling up what laid at the depths of their hearts. Rheneas' eyes implored him to understand, although he also appeared to have no intention of running from or denying his faults, a trait that the younger engine could only respect. Sir Handel felt all of the fire that had been coursing through him suddenly vanish, just as Rheneas' ire had extinguished itself earlier. In the face of such a genuine apology, Sir Handel couldn't bring himself to feed it, letting the embers simply burn out.

"...Thank you."

That tiny voice that crawled up through his tubes was hardly how he usually preferred to present himself, and yet, as small and delicate as it was, it overflowed with emotion, genuine and real, and earned him a watery smile from Rheneas.

"Of course. You're one of us, and have been from the moment your wheels met our rails. If anyone tries to imply that you don't belong here, then they will have to answer to me."

That got a quiet, relieved chuckle out of Sir Handel, and in the calm of their newly forged accord, Rheneas whistled to call back their crews. "Now then, shall we get settled in for the evening?" the older engine smiled, eyes flicking up to the sunset-streaked sky, and Sir Handel took a breath, his body feeling even more relaxed than it had been after his cleaning.

"Yes, please. And, if you don't mind... tonight, I'd like the spot next to yours."

19 notes · View notes