[Secret Santa Fic] In Such a State [4/5]
Title: In Such a State [4/5]
Author: 9mm_meg
Recipient: seraphic_dream
Rating: PGish
Warnings: 6-year-old Fem!Canada?
Summary: Alfred is just after a Christmas present for his little sister, but when he finds a life-sized, broken doll outside a shop and takes him home, he gets quite a bit more than he bargained for. Victorian!AU
Throughout Arthur’s twenty-five years, he’d constantly been subjected to various forms of torture, most of which transpired at the hands of either his brothers or his strict upbringing. But through it all (well, most of it) (sort of), he had kept his calm demeanor, suffered through the pain and/or humiliation, and carried on as any proper gentleman should. His ability to maintain his sense of decorum in the face of (almost) any hardship was one of his greatest sources of personal pride, and it was also one of the contributing factors that led to his father’s choice to name Arthur as his heir instead of one of his older and, in their eyes, more deserving siblings.
However, the new Lord Kirkland was quite positive that the late Lord Kirkland would posthumously disown him if he could see him now, regardless of how devotedly he was keeping his formidable wrath in check, despite the humiliating circumstances.
“More tea for you, Mr. Jones?” Madeleine asked primly, holding up an empty, child-sized teapot.
To Arthur’s surprise, Alfred had actually put Madeleine’s request off successfully for days, but now, the day before she was to return to France, this terrible fate had finally fallen upon him.
“Oh heavens, no thank you, Miss Williams,” Alfred replied, southern-gentlemanly drawl creeping in at the edge of his words more than usual, as it had been for the past half hour. Arthur tried to ignore the odd effect it had on his non-existent heart rate, and wondered instead for the millionth time why Madeleine’s name wasn’t the same as her brother’s. He hadn’t ever known until Madeleine suggested some propriety was in order for their little… event, and started using Mr. Jones instead of her usual Alfred or Freddie, and Alfred had followed suit…
“What about you, Captain Kirk?”
… As well as come up with yet another absurd name and title for Arthur.
It was getting harder and harder to hold still, especially since the purple satin ribbon that Madeleine had wrapped around his head and tied in an enormous bow at his temple had flopped over into his eye. It didn’t hurt, but it was hard to keep from the instinctual twitch every time it grazed over his lashes. (It also didn’t help that it felt like ‘Lily,’ seated across the table from him, was staring straight through him with those empty-looking eyes of hers.)
(… Nor did he appreciate being offered invisible tea when he hadn’t been able to eat or drink properly in ages. The nerve.)
Before Madeleine could mime refilling his teacup, Alfred cut in. “Y’know, Maddie,” he said, pointing towards the clock, “it’s about time we started packing you up, don’t you think?”
He received a wide-eyed, almost tearful look in return.
“Come on,” he said, pleadingly. “You know I don’t want you to go, but school is important. Now why don’t you start on your room upstairs, and I’ll be up in a minute after I put all this away.”
Madeleine nodded, clearly disappointed, and slipped off her chair and up the stairs without a word.
As soon as she was out of sight, however, Arthur let out a growl of frustration and ripped the bow off of his head. The frilly apron followed, but the long strand of false pearls was flung in Alfred’s direction and hit him soundly in the face.
“Hey!”
“And you! You sit there the whole time not even bothering to hide that obnoxious little snigger of yours! I swear, Alfred Jones, I will make absolutely sure that you regret this to your dying day. I’ll hex you into the next century. I’ll-”
“No hexing at the table, Artieee…”
“-and don’t you dare call me by that ridiculous nickname again, or I promise you I’ll wipe that infernal grin right off your face, you overgrown child!”
Alfred stood from the table, smile firmly in place, and held out his arms. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Now be a nice little doll like Lily here, and let me carry you back up to the study.”
It was a necessary evil, Arthur knew. Naturally, Madeleine would question her brother’s doll walking up the stairs of his own volition, and before the accursed tea party, he’d been hoisted over one of Alfred’s broad shoulders and hurried downstairs before he could even protest.
At least he wasn’t being kidnapped this time… So with more than a little reluctance and even more grumbling, Arthur allowed himself to be gathered up bridal-style, went limp against Alfred’s chest, and ignored the steady thump of a very human heart against his shoulder as he was carted upstairs.
With Madeleine gone from the house, time started to pass more quickly for Arthur. Despite his resolution to stop wasting time and return to normal as soon as possible, the new year had come and gone, and his days were more often spent helping Alfred with his bookkeeping than actually working out a solution to his situation. Even when they had free time to waste, it was more and more frequently spent on the sofa in the sitting room, just chatting or reading.
They had already gotten to Arthur’s past in through the course of their conversations, but somehow Alfred had always managed to dodge questions about his own, giving vague answers before steering the topic elsewhere. He had listened intently when Arthur had briefly explained how he’d been born illegitimate and had fought tooth and nail to earn his father’s favor, but Alfred had never really pressed too hard for more information. However, Arthur’s curiosity was getting a bit unmanageable, and he’d almost convinced himself that it was unfair that his host should know so much about him, but not have the decency to share any information himself. He had no idea how to get Alfred to open up about it, however, so he made do with just waiting.
One slow February afternoon, Alfred was off in the kitchen brewing some coffee (for him) and tea (for Arthur, who could and did appreciate the smell even if he couldn’t drink it), so Arthur chose a book at random from the shelf and made himself comfortable in his usual spot on the sofa, away from the window.
The book was worn so far as to make the title on the spine illegible, but once Arthur got a good look at it, he found that he’d come across some sort of medical textbook. He nearly got up and put it right back, but a spark of curiosity made him pull open the cover-and there, on the inside, was an inscription:
For my dearest Alfred, ever the champion of my good health, in endless gratitude and affection, and in the hopes that he will extend his heroism to those in need once my fight is done.
Marianne Williams
4 July, 1859
Williams, like Madeleine… but her dearest Alfred…? Who-
“Your tea, m’lord!”
Arthur jumped as a china cup suddenly appeared under his nose, and looked up to find Alfred’s ever-present smile only inches from his face-but as soon as he was there, he was gone again, standing up straight.
“I made it extra strong, so you could smell it better, and I was thinking we could… Oh.” Blue eyes settled on the book in his lap, and, wondering if he’d stumbled upon something he shouldn’t have, Arthur offered him a slightly apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry. I picked it up accidentally,” he said, closing the cover and trading it out for the tea. “Not exactly my area of expertise anyway.”
“It’s… fine. I’m just surprised. I forgot it was here.”
Intensely curious, but determined not to be nosy, Arthur patted the seat next to him. Alfred sat down slowly, still focused on the book in his hands, and, to Arthur’s surprise, he said quietly, “Marianne was Madeleine’s mother.”
Of all the thousands of possible implications of that statement, only one occurred to Arthur at that instant, and he found his mind flooded with questions that he didn’t dare ask.
‘My dearest Alfred,’ and ‘Endless affection,’ she had written-and the sad, but fond look on Alfred’s face now… With the way that he fawned over Madeleine, it wasn’t inconceivable, but… but how old was Alfred anyway? Old enough, Arthur was sure, but still, he had to have been very young… But why then was there a portrait of the girl up in the study? Unless Alfred had put it up himself-but the baby, why hadn’t they named her Madeleine Jones instead of Williams? They must have never been married-
“… So Maddie’s just my half-sister.”
Arthur snapped his mouth shut, realizing that it had fallen open at the thought of Alfred being a father. Of course she was his sister… He was just being ridiculous. (And the surge of relief that suddenly washed over him was just for Alfred’s sake. Of course.)
“O-oh.”
Alfred opened the book and started flipping through it, and Arthur noticed all sorts of messy notes scribbled in the margins of nearly every page, all in what he recognized as Alfred’s handwriting.
“She gave me this on my birthday,” Alfred continued (and Arthur swore to himself that he would not jump to any more conclusions while Alfred was speaking). “I was going to be a doctor, and I was going to make sure that she got better. It didn’t quite work out that way, though, and she died two months later.”
“I… I’m so sorry,” Arthur mumbled, wishing he had something to say that wasn’t so useless, but Alfred just gave him a small smile.
“It’s alright. She’d been ill for a long time, but she never told anyone until it was too late. I hadn’t been studying long, but even I knew that there wasn’t much we could do. It didn’t keep me from trying though.”
Arthur didn’t doubt that, as stubborn as he knew Alfred to be, but before he could tell him so, Alfred set the book down and started talking again.
“After that, I kept on studying like a madman,” he said, “and the town doctor took me on as his assistant. I loved every minute of it, too, but then I got a letter from my father, and… Well, wait. Let me back up.”
Interest piqued, Arthur shifted into a more comfortable position, and tried to school his expression into something not quite as eager to hear Alfred’s history as he actually felt. He didn’t want to put him off, after all, and thankfully, being a doll had afforded him plenty of opportunities to perfect his range of neutral expressions. Alfred settled alongside him on the sofa, bringing an arm up to rest across the back of it behind Arthur’s head.
“So my father was English, and a few years before I was born, he moved to America for some sort of business venture or something. He met my mother, fell in love, got married, all of that, but she died while delivering me. Now, my father wasn’t the most caring sort of person, but he really, truly loved my mother, and losing her just sort of broke him. He stayed with me and my nurse Lizzie until I was five, but honestly… I don’t think he could stand the sight of me once I started looking and acting like Mother used to, so he packed up and went back home to London. Lizzie told me he had some sort of opportunity for his business, and that he’d send for me as soon as he got settled, but that didn’t happen. I think he might’ve blamed me for what happened to her somehow.”
“That’s… that’s just ridiculous!” Arthur burst out. He didn’t want to interrupt, not when they were finally getting somewhere, but he just couldn’t contain his outrage. “To hold an innocent child responsible for something so utterly out of his control-”
Alfred snatched the teacup out of Arthur’s hand before he could spill it on himself, setting it down on the table and holding onto Arthur’s hand instead. “I know, I know,” he started, voice soothing, “but it’s alright, Arthur. If it was there, it was somewhere deep down, and he might not have even known himself.”
“Still, to just abandon you… It’s not right,” Arthur grumbled, irritated that despite the horrible things Alfred was telling him, he still had the nerve to sit there and smile at him as though nothing was wrong.
“Are you going to let me finish my story or not?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, and after a moment (taken to let Alfred know that he still did not approve), Arthur nodded. “Thank you. Anyway, my father still made sure we were provided for, and for years it was just me, Lizzie, and the house staff in this big house out in the country in Virginia. I got to run around and be a rowdy kid all I wanted, and we still got letters from him every once in a while, making sure I was doing well in school and not besmirching the Jones name or whatever.
“And then, when I was fifteen, I suddenly get a letter from him that tells me I’ve got a new baby sister, and she and her mother are going to come live with us. He met Miss Marianne in Toronto-no idea why he was there-and when she told him about Maddie, he insisted that they go down to Virginia and stay in the house. And of course, you know that I was a lost cause as soon as I set eyes on Maddie.
“Things were good for a while. Miss Marianne was so nice and quiet, and she was such a good listener. I think that she made a big difference on my father too, because he started to write more often, to me especially, and it actually sounded like what I was up to was important to him, not because it could make him look bad, but because he actually cared about me. And then there was Maddie, too… As soon as she could walk, she was following me around everywhere, so I’d read to her and play with her, and she learned to speak pretty quickly and really well, but she was mostly quiet just like Miss Marianne. They both just let me run my mouth all the time…
“Of course, after she passed, everything was different. I don’t know if you know much about what’s going on back in the States now, but it wasn’t looking great, and with Miss Marianne gone, my father sent for us immediately. The governess that he’d hired for Maddie packed her all up, but I was right in the middle of becoming a doctor like I’d promised Marianne I would… I was almost eighteen, and I decided that I was going to stay put. So I said goodbye to Maddie, and it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
“The battles began the year after they left, and I was there, trying to patch up exit wounds the size of my fist and amputating limbs, and… and it was awful. I was still getting letters from my father, asking me to get out while I could and come learn how to take over his business instead of trying to be a doctor, but I didn’t want to just leave when people needed me. He was starting to get sick himself though, and after I heard about that horrible fight at Antietam, I just couldn’t stay anymore. I hopped on a blockade runner and managed to make it here, and that’s where I’ve been since then. My father died in August, and I had to send Maddie to school in September, and then, well, you know the rest.”
It was quiet for a long while after he had finished, with Arthur finally noticing Alfred’s hand still resting on top of his, there on the cushion between them. It was silly, Alfred comforting him when it was his own troubles they were discussing, and after wondering about it for so long, he didn’t know what to think now that he had the truth. Arthur had had it rough himself, that was certain… but Alfred had lost the nearly all of the things that were most important to him in some form or another. He’d never even met his mother, his father had left him, and after he’d found someone to love and appreciate him, Marianne had died herself. Now he was unable to do what he really wanted, be a doctor, and even his little sister was off at school in an entirely different country.
Arthur didn’t know what to say. After a moment, though, he realized how personal everything he’d just heard was, and what it must have taken for Alfred to tell him… and proof of the trust he must have had in him.
“Alfred… Thank you for telling me all of this,” he finally said, turning his palm upwards to wrap his fingers around Alfred’s hand.
And as usual, Alfred gave him one of those easy, breathtaking smiles of his.
“Thanks for listening,” he answered, and squeezed back.
“Dear lord! Is it nearly May?!”
“Hey, I’m reading that!”
Arthur ignored Alfred’s protests as he snatched the newspaper from his hand, staring in shock at the date printed at the top of the page. He knew that he’d been more than less idle lately, but things had been going so comfortably the past few weeks that he hadn’t really felt the pressing need to hurry up and fix himself… But he had no idea just how long he’d been lazing about, chitchatting and sniffing cups of tea with the idiot grumbling into his toast across the table from him. He’d even missed a birthday…
“I can’t believe how time has flown,” he said, leaning back in his chair.
“Only old people say that, y’know,” Alfred managed to get out through the mouthful of bread and jam.
“Oh quiet, you. It’s rude to speak with your mouth full anyway.”
“It’s rude to steal somebody’s paper while he’s reading it, too.”
Arthur rolled his eyes, hardly noticing the feel of it anymore. “Forgive me, oh please, I beg of you,” he said flatly, leveling a hardly apologetic look at Alfred while the man stood up and brushed the crumbs from his lap.
“Lucky for you, I’m already done with it,” Alfred said. He gave Arthur’s chair a good-natured kick and dodged the retaliatory shot aimed at his shin on his way to the staircase, laughing and calling back, “I got interviewers to see, medical boards to impress, Artie!”
Ridiculous as usual, Arthur thought to himself with a fond smile, glancing back down at the newspaper disinterestedly. Alfred opening up to him back in February had done more than just sate Arthur’s curiosity and bring them a little closer together; it had started more conversations about what Alfred was capable of doing, and after much persuasion, he’d finally agreed to start working towards becoming a doctor again.
Suddenly, Arthur caught a glimpse of his own name out of the corner of his eye, and he nearly knocked over his cooling cup of tea in his haste to pull the paper up to reading-level.
TITLE AND ESTATE PASSES TO BROTHER OF MISSING EARL
He read over the article as quickly as possible with shaking hands rattling the paper and his porcelain fingers. It was James, his eldest brother… Arthur had been gone for so long that they had pronounced him dead. He didn’t know how James had managed to secure his place-he hadn’t drawn up a will yet, thinking he had plenty of time at his young age-but if it had already happened, he didn’t know what he could do to contest it, and certainly not in his current state.
Everything he’d worked for his entire life… and his brother had taken it from him. No-that wasn’t right. His own stupidity had done that for him. First the mistake with the spell, and now his idleness for the past four months had left him with nothing.
He felt sick.
“Hey Arthur, can you fix my tie?”
He hadn’t even heard Alfred come back down the stairs, suit jacket tossed over his arm as he fiddled with the stickpin securing his tie. As soon as Alfred saw his face, though, he rushed over and grabbed ahold of his shoulders.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked. There was a manic look in his eyes, his jaw set and determined. Arthur didn’t trust his voice, so he just pointed to the article, and Alfred skimmed through it quickly.
He gave Arthur an indignant look as soon as he was through, saying, “But-but… Can they even do that?”
“Seems they can,” Arthur answered, voice coming out as more a whisper than anything.
“You don’t have to let them! There has to be something… Once you work out that reversal, can’t you just show up and take it back?”
Arthur shook his head. “There’s too many legal ramifications to that, I’m sure. And even if I did, what am I to say when they ask where I’ve been?”
“Just tell them you took a trip or something!”
It was clear that Alfred didn’t understand at all, and the fact that he was continuing on like it was so easily fixed simply burned Arthur’s increasingly raw anger and frustration. He ripped the paper back out of Alfred’s hands and threw it to the table, trying his hardest not to raise his voice.
“Do you realize what that would to do my reputation? You don’t just… just leave without a word and suddenly turn back up wanting your life back when you’re in my sort of station, Alfred,” he seethed, realizing with fresh ire that it’s exactly what would have happened all along… He’d never even contacted anyone, letting them know that he’d be gone for a time. He’d just been so distracted…
Alfred glared at him. “Who cares about your reputation?! Is what people think of you really more important than this?”
“God damn it, Alfred!” Arthur finally shouted, and Alfred took a step back. “You couldn’t possibly understand, so just go to your bloody interview and leave me alone!”
It took a moment, but Alfred finally pulled on his jacket, muttering, “Fine. Just… fine. You wanna sit here feeling sorry for yourself, that’s just fine with me. Excuse me for trying to help.”
He stormed out, and Arthur heard him slam the front door behind him, but only seconds later, he was bursting back through it and rushing up the stairs. Arthur saw a piece of paper flutter down after him, but he refused to pay it any attention… but when Alfred came back down with a suitcase in hand, he couldn’t help but call out, “Where the hell are you going, then?”
Alfred’s answer was calm and collected, but it was obviously taking quite a lot of effort for him to keep his voice in check. “France,” he said, and Arthur gaped. “I got a letter. Maddie is sick. Very sick.”
The empty, nauseous feeling suddenly worsened, and all Arthur could manage to say was, “But your interview…”
“It can wait. I don’t guess you couldn’t understand either, Arthur, but I know what’s important to me.”
Without another word, he walked out, leaving Arthur stunned in his wake.
A/N: Not only is it late, but I’ve gone and left it off on that note as well. Fantastic.
But seriously, I’m so sorry it’s late! There’s just the one part left after this, but unfortunately, I lost a few writing days to the Stomach Flu from Hell during which I zoned in and out of Doctor Who episodes between Tylenol PMs and running to the bathroom to toss them, along with the several liters of Gatorade that were supposed to be rehydrating me. The good news is that I don’t go back to work till Tuesday, and I’m working non-stop on Chapter 5 to get it done ASAP.
Please forgive me, seraphic_dream! It’ll be finished soon, I promise! T_T /sob
Coming up next time: Feelings. Everyone is Not Prepared.
Author: 9mm_meg
Recipient: seraphic_dream
Rating: PGish
Warnings: 6-year-old Fem!Canada?
Summary: Alfred is just after a Christmas present for his little sister, but when he finds a life-sized, broken doll outside a shop and takes him home, he gets quite a bit more than he bargained for. Victorian!AU
Throughout Arthur’s twenty-five years, he’d constantly been subjected to various forms of torture, most of which transpired at the hands of either his brothers or his strict upbringing. But through it all (well, most of it) (sort of), he had kept his calm demeanor, suffered through the pain and/or humiliation, and carried on as any proper gentleman should. His ability to maintain his sense of decorum in the face of (almost) any hardship was one of his greatest sources of personal pride, and it was also one of the contributing factors that led to his father’s choice to name Arthur as his heir instead of one of his older and, in their eyes, more deserving siblings.
However, the new Lord Kirkland was quite positive that the late Lord Kirkland would posthumously disown him if he could see him now, regardless of how devotedly he was keeping his formidable wrath in check, despite the humiliating circumstances.
“More tea for you, Mr. Jones?” Madeleine asked primly, holding up an empty, child-sized teapot.
To Arthur’s surprise, Alfred had actually put Madeleine’s request off successfully for days, but now, the day before she was to return to France, this terrible fate had finally fallen upon him.
“Oh heavens, no thank you, Miss Williams,” Alfred replied, southern-gentlemanly drawl creeping in at the edge of his words more than usual, as it had been for the past half hour. Arthur tried to ignore the odd effect it had on his non-existent heart rate, and wondered instead for the millionth time why Madeleine’s name wasn’t the same as her brother’s. He hadn’t ever known until Madeleine suggested some propriety was in order for their little… event, and started using Mr. Jones instead of her usual Alfred or Freddie, and Alfred had followed suit…
“What about you, Captain Kirk?”
… As well as come up with yet another absurd name and title for Arthur.
It was getting harder and harder to hold still, especially since the purple satin ribbon that Madeleine had wrapped around his head and tied in an enormous bow at his temple had flopped over into his eye. It didn’t hurt, but it was hard to keep from the instinctual twitch every time it grazed over his lashes. (It also didn’t help that it felt like ‘Lily,’ seated across the table from him, was staring straight through him with those empty-looking eyes of hers.)
(… Nor did he appreciate being offered invisible tea when he hadn’t been able to eat or drink properly in ages. The nerve.)
Before Madeleine could mime refilling his teacup, Alfred cut in. “Y’know, Maddie,” he said, pointing towards the clock, “it’s about time we started packing you up, don’t you think?”
He received a wide-eyed, almost tearful look in return.
“Come on,” he said, pleadingly. “You know I don’t want you to go, but school is important. Now why don’t you start on your room upstairs, and I’ll be up in a minute after I put all this away.”
Madeleine nodded, clearly disappointed, and slipped off her chair and up the stairs without a word.
As soon as she was out of sight, however, Arthur let out a growl of frustration and ripped the bow off of his head. The frilly apron followed, but the long strand of false pearls was flung in Alfred’s direction and hit him soundly in the face.
“Hey!”
“And you! You sit there the whole time not even bothering to hide that obnoxious little snigger of yours! I swear, Alfred Jones, I will make absolutely sure that you regret this to your dying day. I’ll hex you into the next century. I’ll-”
“No hexing at the table, Artieee…”
“-and don’t you dare call me by that ridiculous nickname again, or I promise you I’ll wipe that infernal grin right off your face, you overgrown child!”
Alfred stood from the table, smile firmly in place, and held out his arms. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Now be a nice little doll like Lily here, and let me carry you back up to the study.”
It was a necessary evil, Arthur knew. Naturally, Madeleine would question her brother’s doll walking up the stairs of his own volition, and before the accursed tea party, he’d been hoisted over one of Alfred’s broad shoulders and hurried downstairs before he could even protest.
At least he wasn’t being kidnapped this time… So with more than a little reluctance and even more grumbling, Arthur allowed himself to be gathered up bridal-style, went limp against Alfred’s chest, and ignored the steady thump of a very human heart against his shoulder as he was carted upstairs.
With Madeleine gone from the house, time started to pass more quickly for Arthur. Despite his resolution to stop wasting time and return to normal as soon as possible, the new year had come and gone, and his days were more often spent helping Alfred with his bookkeeping than actually working out a solution to his situation. Even when they had free time to waste, it was more and more frequently spent on the sofa in the sitting room, just chatting or reading.
They had already gotten to Arthur’s past in through the course of their conversations, but somehow Alfred had always managed to dodge questions about his own, giving vague answers before steering the topic elsewhere. He had listened intently when Arthur had briefly explained how he’d been born illegitimate and had fought tooth and nail to earn his father’s favor, but Alfred had never really pressed too hard for more information. However, Arthur’s curiosity was getting a bit unmanageable, and he’d almost convinced himself that it was unfair that his host should know so much about him, but not have the decency to share any information himself. He had no idea how to get Alfred to open up about it, however, so he made do with just waiting.
One slow February afternoon, Alfred was off in the kitchen brewing some coffee (for him) and tea (for Arthur, who could and did appreciate the smell even if he couldn’t drink it), so Arthur chose a book at random from the shelf and made himself comfortable in his usual spot on the sofa, away from the window.
The book was worn so far as to make the title on the spine illegible, but once Arthur got a good look at it, he found that he’d come across some sort of medical textbook. He nearly got up and put it right back, but a spark of curiosity made him pull open the cover-and there, on the inside, was an inscription:
For my dearest Alfred, ever the champion of my good health, in endless gratitude and affection, and in the hopes that he will extend his heroism to those in need once my fight is done.
Marianne Williams
4 July, 1859
Williams, like Madeleine… but her dearest Alfred…? Who-
“Your tea, m’lord!”
Arthur jumped as a china cup suddenly appeared under his nose, and looked up to find Alfred’s ever-present smile only inches from his face-but as soon as he was there, he was gone again, standing up straight.
“I made it extra strong, so you could smell it better, and I was thinking we could… Oh.” Blue eyes settled on the book in his lap, and, wondering if he’d stumbled upon something he shouldn’t have, Arthur offered him a slightly apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry. I picked it up accidentally,” he said, closing the cover and trading it out for the tea. “Not exactly my area of expertise anyway.”
“It’s… fine. I’m just surprised. I forgot it was here.”
Intensely curious, but determined not to be nosy, Arthur patted the seat next to him. Alfred sat down slowly, still focused on the book in his hands, and, to Arthur’s surprise, he said quietly, “Marianne was Madeleine’s mother.”
Of all the thousands of possible implications of that statement, only one occurred to Arthur at that instant, and he found his mind flooded with questions that he didn’t dare ask.
‘My dearest Alfred,’ and ‘Endless affection,’ she had written-and the sad, but fond look on Alfred’s face now… With the way that he fawned over Madeleine, it wasn’t inconceivable, but… but how old was Alfred anyway? Old enough, Arthur was sure, but still, he had to have been very young… But why then was there a portrait of the girl up in the study? Unless Alfred had put it up himself-but the baby, why hadn’t they named her Madeleine Jones instead of Williams? They must have never been married-
“… So Maddie’s just my half-sister.”
Arthur snapped his mouth shut, realizing that it had fallen open at the thought of Alfred being a father. Of course she was his sister… He was just being ridiculous. (And the surge of relief that suddenly washed over him was just for Alfred’s sake. Of course.)
“O-oh.”
Alfred opened the book and started flipping through it, and Arthur noticed all sorts of messy notes scribbled in the margins of nearly every page, all in what he recognized as Alfred’s handwriting.
“She gave me this on my birthday,” Alfred continued (and Arthur swore to himself that he would not jump to any more conclusions while Alfred was speaking). “I was going to be a doctor, and I was going to make sure that she got better. It didn’t quite work out that way, though, and she died two months later.”
“I… I’m so sorry,” Arthur mumbled, wishing he had something to say that wasn’t so useless, but Alfred just gave him a small smile.
“It’s alright. She’d been ill for a long time, but she never told anyone until it was too late. I hadn’t been studying long, but even I knew that there wasn’t much we could do. It didn’t keep me from trying though.”
Arthur didn’t doubt that, as stubborn as he knew Alfred to be, but before he could tell him so, Alfred set the book down and started talking again.
“After that, I kept on studying like a madman,” he said, “and the town doctor took me on as his assistant. I loved every minute of it, too, but then I got a letter from my father, and… Well, wait. Let me back up.”
Interest piqued, Arthur shifted into a more comfortable position, and tried to school his expression into something not quite as eager to hear Alfred’s history as he actually felt. He didn’t want to put him off, after all, and thankfully, being a doll had afforded him plenty of opportunities to perfect his range of neutral expressions. Alfred settled alongside him on the sofa, bringing an arm up to rest across the back of it behind Arthur’s head.
“So my father was English, and a few years before I was born, he moved to America for some sort of business venture or something. He met my mother, fell in love, got married, all of that, but she died while delivering me. Now, my father wasn’t the most caring sort of person, but he really, truly loved my mother, and losing her just sort of broke him. He stayed with me and my nurse Lizzie until I was five, but honestly… I don’t think he could stand the sight of me once I started looking and acting like Mother used to, so he packed up and went back home to London. Lizzie told me he had some sort of opportunity for his business, and that he’d send for me as soon as he got settled, but that didn’t happen. I think he might’ve blamed me for what happened to her somehow.”
“That’s… that’s just ridiculous!” Arthur burst out. He didn’t want to interrupt, not when they were finally getting somewhere, but he just couldn’t contain his outrage. “To hold an innocent child responsible for something so utterly out of his control-”
Alfred snatched the teacup out of Arthur’s hand before he could spill it on himself, setting it down on the table and holding onto Arthur’s hand instead. “I know, I know,” he started, voice soothing, “but it’s alright, Arthur. If it was there, it was somewhere deep down, and he might not have even known himself.”
“Still, to just abandon you… It’s not right,” Arthur grumbled, irritated that despite the horrible things Alfred was telling him, he still had the nerve to sit there and smile at him as though nothing was wrong.
“Are you going to let me finish my story or not?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, and after a moment (taken to let Alfred know that he still did not approve), Arthur nodded. “Thank you. Anyway, my father still made sure we were provided for, and for years it was just me, Lizzie, and the house staff in this big house out in the country in Virginia. I got to run around and be a rowdy kid all I wanted, and we still got letters from him every once in a while, making sure I was doing well in school and not besmirching the Jones name or whatever.
“And then, when I was fifteen, I suddenly get a letter from him that tells me I’ve got a new baby sister, and she and her mother are going to come live with us. He met Miss Marianne in Toronto-no idea why he was there-and when she told him about Maddie, he insisted that they go down to Virginia and stay in the house. And of course, you know that I was a lost cause as soon as I set eyes on Maddie.
“Things were good for a while. Miss Marianne was so nice and quiet, and she was such a good listener. I think that she made a big difference on my father too, because he started to write more often, to me especially, and it actually sounded like what I was up to was important to him, not because it could make him look bad, but because he actually cared about me. And then there was Maddie, too… As soon as she could walk, she was following me around everywhere, so I’d read to her and play with her, and she learned to speak pretty quickly and really well, but she was mostly quiet just like Miss Marianne. They both just let me run my mouth all the time…
“Of course, after she passed, everything was different. I don’t know if you know much about what’s going on back in the States now, but it wasn’t looking great, and with Miss Marianne gone, my father sent for us immediately. The governess that he’d hired for Maddie packed her all up, but I was right in the middle of becoming a doctor like I’d promised Marianne I would… I was almost eighteen, and I decided that I was going to stay put. So I said goodbye to Maddie, and it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
“The battles began the year after they left, and I was there, trying to patch up exit wounds the size of my fist and amputating limbs, and… and it was awful. I was still getting letters from my father, asking me to get out while I could and come learn how to take over his business instead of trying to be a doctor, but I didn’t want to just leave when people needed me. He was starting to get sick himself though, and after I heard about that horrible fight at Antietam, I just couldn’t stay anymore. I hopped on a blockade runner and managed to make it here, and that’s where I’ve been since then. My father died in August, and I had to send Maddie to school in September, and then, well, you know the rest.”
It was quiet for a long while after he had finished, with Arthur finally noticing Alfred’s hand still resting on top of his, there on the cushion between them. It was silly, Alfred comforting him when it was his own troubles they were discussing, and after wondering about it for so long, he didn’t know what to think now that he had the truth. Arthur had had it rough himself, that was certain… but Alfred had lost the nearly all of the things that were most important to him in some form or another. He’d never even met his mother, his father had left him, and after he’d found someone to love and appreciate him, Marianne had died herself. Now he was unable to do what he really wanted, be a doctor, and even his little sister was off at school in an entirely different country.
Arthur didn’t know what to say. After a moment, though, he realized how personal everything he’d just heard was, and what it must have taken for Alfred to tell him… and proof of the trust he must have had in him.
“Alfred… Thank you for telling me all of this,” he finally said, turning his palm upwards to wrap his fingers around Alfred’s hand.
And as usual, Alfred gave him one of those easy, breathtaking smiles of his.
“Thanks for listening,” he answered, and squeezed back.
“Dear lord! Is it nearly May?!”
“Hey, I’m reading that!”
Arthur ignored Alfred’s protests as he snatched the newspaper from his hand, staring in shock at the date printed at the top of the page. He knew that he’d been more than less idle lately, but things had been going so comfortably the past few weeks that he hadn’t really felt the pressing need to hurry up and fix himself… But he had no idea just how long he’d been lazing about, chitchatting and sniffing cups of tea with the idiot grumbling into his toast across the table from him. He’d even missed a birthday…
“I can’t believe how time has flown,” he said, leaning back in his chair.
“Only old people say that, y’know,” Alfred managed to get out through the mouthful of bread and jam.
“Oh quiet, you. It’s rude to speak with your mouth full anyway.”
“It’s rude to steal somebody’s paper while he’s reading it, too.”
Arthur rolled his eyes, hardly noticing the feel of it anymore. “Forgive me, oh please, I beg of you,” he said flatly, leveling a hardly apologetic look at Alfred while the man stood up and brushed the crumbs from his lap.
“Lucky for you, I’m already done with it,” Alfred said. He gave Arthur’s chair a good-natured kick and dodged the retaliatory shot aimed at his shin on his way to the staircase, laughing and calling back, “I got interviewers to see, medical boards to impress, Artie!”
Ridiculous as usual, Arthur thought to himself with a fond smile, glancing back down at the newspaper disinterestedly. Alfred opening up to him back in February had done more than just sate Arthur’s curiosity and bring them a little closer together; it had started more conversations about what Alfred was capable of doing, and after much persuasion, he’d finally agreed to start working towards becoming a doctor again.
Suddenly, Arthur caught a glimpse of his own name out of the corner of his eye, and he nearly knocked over his cooling cup of tea in his haste to pull the paper up to reading-level.
TITLE AND ESTATE PASSES TO BROTHER OF MISSING EARL
He read over the article as quickly as possible with shaking hands rattling the paper and his porcelain fingers. It was James, his eldest brother… Arthur had been gone for so long that they had pronounced him dead. He didn’t know how James had managed to secure his place-he hadn’t drawn up a will yet, thinking he had plenty of time at his young age-but if it had already happened, he didn’t know what he could do to contest it, and certainly not in his current state.
Everything he’d worked for his entire life… and his brother had taken it from him. No-that wasn’t right. His own stupidity had done that for him. First the mistake with the spell, and now his idleness for the past four months had left him with nothing.
He felt sick.
“Hey Arthur, can you fix my tie?”
He hadn’t even heard Alfred come back down the stairs, suit jacket tossed over his arm as he fiddled with the stickpin securing his tie. As soon as Alfred saw his face, though, he rushed over and grabbed ahold of his shoulders.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked. There was a manic look in his eyes, his jaw set and determined. Arthur didn’t trust his voice, so he just pointed to the article, and Alfred skimmed through it quickly.
He gave Arthur an indignant look as soon as he was through, saying, “But-but… Can they even do that?”
“Seems they can,” Arthur answered, voice coming out as more a whisper than anything.
“You don’t have to let them! There has to be something… Once you work out that reversal, can’t you just show up and take it back?”
Arthur shook his head. “There’s too many legal ramifications to that, I’m sure. And even if I did, what am I to say when they ask where I’ve been?”
“Just tell them you took a trip or something!”
It was clear that Alfred didn’t understand at all, and the fact that he was continuing on like it was so easily fixed simply burned Arthur’s increasingly raw anger and frustration. He ripped the paper back out of Alfred’s hands and threw it to the table, trying his hardest not to raise his voice.
“Do you realize what that would to do my reputation? You don’t just… just leave without a word and suddenly turn back up wanting your life back when you’re in my sort of station, Alfred,” he seethed, realizing with fresh ire that it’s exactly what would have happened all along… He’d never even contacted anyone, letting them know that he’d be gone for a time. He’d just been so distracted…
Alfred glared at him. “Who cares about your reputation?! Is what people think of you really more important than this?”
“God damn it, Alfred!” Arthur finally shouted, and Alfred took a step back. “You couldn’t possibly understand, so just go to your bloody interview and leave me alone!”
It took a moment, but Alfred finally pulled on his jacket, muttering, “Fine. Just… fine. You wanna sit here feeling sorry for yourself, that’s just fine with me. Excuse me for trying to help.”
He stormed out, and Arthur heard him slam the front door behind him, but only seconds later, he was bursting back through it and rushing up the stairs. Arthur saw a piece of paper flutter down after him, but he refused to pay it any attention… but when Alfred came back down with a suitcase in hand, he couldn’t help but call out, “Where the hell are you going, then?”
Alfred’s answer was calm and collected, but it was obviously taking quite a lot of effort for him to keep his voice in check. “France,” he said, and Arthur gaped. “I got a letter. Maddie is sick. Very sick.”
The empty, nauseous feeling suddenly worsened, and all Arthur could manage to say was, “But your interview…”
“It can wait. I don’t guess you couldn’t understand either, Arthur, but I know what’s important to me.”
Without another word, he walked out, leaving Arthur stunned in his wake.
A/N: Not only is it late, but I’ve gone and left it off on that note as well. Fantastic.
But seriously, I’m so sorry it’s late! There’s just the one part left after this, but unfortunately, I lost a few writing days to the Stomach Flu from Hell during which I zoned in and out of Doctor Who episodes between Tylenol PMs and running to the bathroom to toss them, along with the several liters of Gatorade that were supposed to be rehydrating me. The good news is that I don’t go back to work till Tuesday, and I’m working non-stop on Chapter 5 to get it done ASAP.
Please forgive me, seraphic_dream! It’ll be finished soon, I promise! T_T /sob
Coming up next time: Feelings. Everyone is Not Prepared.