How it all comes together (3a/?)
anonymous
December 28 2010, 23:47:35 UTC
How it all comes together (or Good things come in Twos) Knowing
He could hear the phone on the other end of the line ringing. Once. Twice.
"Bonjour." A familiar voice picked up on the third ring.
"Hey there, Mr. Bonnefoy." Alfred said in a cheerful tone that he wasn't really feeling, "It's Alfred Jones. You know, who bought your house?"
"Who bought my...Of course. It's good to hear from you, Monsieur Jones. And please, feel free to call me Francis." the other's voice had sounded confused at first--Weird. He hadn't sold Alfred the house that long ago--but it had now taken on that same flirtatious quality Alfred was becoming used to hearing from the man. "What is it I can help you with? I assume this is not a social call. Although naturally I wouldn't mind if it was."
"Yeah. I, uh, just wanted to call to ask you a quick question about the house. If you don't mind." Well actually, he didn't really want to ask it; it was more like he had no choice.
It wasn't that Alfred was scared. No, of course not! So what if he couldn't really talk to any of his close friends and family back in America--and Canada, hey there Matt--about all this? It's not like it was his fault that all the suspense and horror films he used to watch back home were really, really well done (not scary) and they'd probably laugh at him if he said he thought he had a ghost problem. But it was very inconvenient. And hey! Asking Francis was the best course of action anyway. If anyone knew anything about how weird and creepy his house was acting, it would be the previous owner, right? And he did say to call if he needed to ask anything. Although that might have been the flirting thing...
"It's no problem at all. What is it you would like to know?" the Frenchman interrupted his train of thought.
"Well uh...." Would asking if his house had ghosts be unheroic sounding? It wasn't cowardly to want to know, right? He wasn't admitting ghosts scared him, which they didn't thank you, by asking or anything like that. Maybe if he worded it a little different though. Just so there wasn't any misinterpretation.
"Hm?" Francis prompted when Alfred still didn't answer.
"Is um....there isn't anything supernatural or stuff like that about the house is there?" There. That sounded okay, didn't it? And...huh? What was that? He could have sworn...
Chuckling interrupted his thoughts. "Supernatural? You mean ghosts like...like those that followed Scrooge and such? It's not Christmas for a while yet, Monsieur Jones."
"Hey, it's a serious question!" Alfred protested, realizing his voice sounded a bit whiner than he intended it to. But this guy was totally making fun of him! And that still didn't explain why Alfred thought that he had...
"Ah. My apologies. It was just such a bizarre question, non? Of course my first instinct was to think it a joke."
That isn't true, Alfred wanted to say. But was he right in thinking that, or just hearing things? The Frenchman's voice sounded believable but...
"So if I may ask, is there any particular reason you wanted to ask me such a thing?" Francis continued, keeping Alfred from holding onto that thought for too long.
"I...guess not. No." It didn't sound like Francis had an answer to his problem, "Unless you have something you want to tell me about the water and electricity around here." Couldn't hurt to mention those. Maybe there was a logical explanation for them.
"Nothing that I'm aware of." Dammit. "As far as I know, they both work fine." Another laugh. "And in any case, if you're having problems with them I would think it to be a very naturel case of old wiring that is the cause."
Alfred felt his face heat up in embarrassment. So much for this conversation not making him look foolish. "Well, uh, thanks then. I guess that's all I wanted to talk about." He bid a hasty good-bye to Francis and hung up before he could talk himself further into a corner. Not to mention he wanted to replay that conversation back in his head without any outside interruptions.
Had he?
Hadn't he?
No, he hadn't been wrong. Now that he didn't have Francis' teasing in his ear to distract him, Alfred knew what it was he'd heard. It had been almost inaudible but...
How it all comes together (3b/?)
anonymous
December 28 2010, 23:51:14 UTC
Alfred was sure after he had asked his question about his house being supernatural, he had heard Francis gasp in shock.
..................................
Francis knew something. He had to. But it didn't look like Alfred was going to get any answers out of the guy, if the teasing and avoidance of his question were anything to go by. At least not without a little leverage.
And so Alfred started looking around for some. At least he had some kind starting point anyway. Francis' gasp had definitely been in response to Alfred's question about the supernatural. That meant ghosts.
...
Well, it didn't have to be ghosts. Supernatural didn't mean just ghosts and spirits after all. Another reason why he had worded the question the way he did when he'd asked. It could totally be something else! But just in case it was a ghost, Alfred decided to begin by looking into his house's history. He figured he would need to start searching pretty far back. Ghosts were old after all--at least ones in increasingly creepy big mansions.
And just like that he hit his first snag. Francis, the jerk, had removed any personal or identifying items from the property before he sold it. One look told him the house was pretty old, but other than that Alfred couldn't find any sort of item or document telling him who the place belonged to originally, or even just how old it was. He supposed he could try researching the address, but he had been hoping to narrow his search down a little bit more than that before hitting the books.
"Guess I have no choice then."
Which is why Alfred found himself pulling his scarf a little bit tighter around his neck and venturing outside into the cold of his back yard. He'd already done the one sweep through his house that first week he'd moved in and nothing stood out in his mind that could help him with his current problem. His more recent second go-round was therefore quick and unfortunately, as he suspected it would be, no more fruitful. That meant he had one more place he could look.
With five days a week spent commuting to work and teaching class, and much of his free time used to grade papers and also keep up with all the troubles the house threw his way, Alfred still somehow managed to keep his property in acceptable condition. He made sure his yard never grew too out of control, picked up stray branches as he saw them, and in the fall he had raked the fallen leaves into piles so high they made him wish he was a kid again, just so he could have an excuse to run and jump into them like he and his brother had done as children.
But there was only so much he could do. And that meant that the small but elaborate garden behind the house, already in quite some disarray when he had moved in, had fallen into a complete state of disrepair through neglect. Alfred thought it was a shame, but he didn't know the first thing about gardening, nor did he have the kind of spare time to dedicate to it that he was sure a garden like that required. Walking amongst the remains of what were once beautiful flowers, he highly doubted he was going to find anything here either, but it was his last shot at locating some clues.
He halfheartedly dug through the brush, loosing hope already that he would find something useful. There wasn't anything out here except a small shed with some gardening tools Alfred didn't know what to do with--they probably belonged to Francis or whoever the Frenchman had hired to care for the mansion's grounds before Alfred moved in--and a lot of dead, dried-up plant life.
'Maybe they're what's haunting me.' Alfred mused to himself, his mouth cracking into a small amused smile at the thought, 'I bet I can appease them if I clean this mess up a little bit.'
And why not? This was another dead end, so he might as well do something productive after spending so much time bundling up to come out here. He started brushing some fallen leaves off a pretty heavy-looking rock that had somehow made it's way into the middle of everything and found himself stopping dead.
How it all comes together (3c/?)
anonymous
December 28 2010, 23:54:54 UTC
It wasn't just any rock, but an overturned stone sculpture; a ship riding the waves, held up when properly displayed about a foot off the ground by simple, yet elegant base. As Alfred heaved it upright, he saw there was a picture carved into the base, a crest or coat of arms or something like it. It was hard to make out--and was that a unicorn there?--but Alfred could just make out three letters--initials, they must have been--at its center, drawn in an elegant script.
AKW
That could be useful. Especially considering what had really caught Alfred's eye. The ship.
The sculpture was faded and worn, undoubtedly it was very old. Many of the details of the ship were weathered away, but Alfred could still recognize the woman on the prow, reaching ahead.
It was the Green Lady.
.............................................
"Lili! Do you have a minute? I need to ask you something." Alfred burst into the Zwingli's store, only afterwards looking around to see whether or not his friend was actually working and present to hear his question.
She appeared from behind the counter, where she had been preparing a box for another one of her brother's models. It looked like a Viking vessel this time. "Of course. What did you need, Alfred?"
"It's about that last ship I bought--the Green Lady."
And there was that same nervousness he had noticed before, "Oh! Um....what did you want to know?"
"Your brother mentioned it had historical connections to the area. And I just found a statue of the same ship in my backyard with this weird family crest thingie or something carved on it. And I was just wondering, you know, what that was all about and if it had anything to do with my house and my bad piping and lights and everything..." As he babbled on, Lili's eyes got progressively wider, until she finally interrupted him.
"You mean you live in that house now?"
Alfred stopped. "The big mansion up the road a ways?"
She nodded.
"Yeah. You mean I never told you?" Now that he thought about it, he probably didn't. Alfred had felt a little awkward telling any of his friends and coworkers how he lived in a mansion that could put most of Beverly Hills to shame. He did come from a pretty well-to-do family back home, but he'd bought that house on his own money, which was far less substantial. He hadn't wanted any of his newfound acquaintances getting the wrong opinion of him because of where he lived. And after all the water problems--among everything else going on--it just wasn't practical for him to invite anyone over; or whine all the time about his three-story home and have them think he was constantly bragging or waving it in their faces.
The girl shook her head. "I didn't realize."
She looked pretty down. "It's okay." he said, "That was my mistake for never mentioning it. But I do still have that question about the ship, and whoever originally owned my house too."
"The house you're living in belongs to Arthur Kirkland." a voice said from behind him.
Alfred spun around, looking for who had just made such a bold statement. His eyes came to rest on a young man, probably around his age, staring at him impassively with cool blue eyes. His hair was pulled back on the left with some manner of hair clip, and Alfred wracked his brain trying to remember if he'd ever seen him before on his frequent trips into town. It was Lili, however, who was the one to identify him.
"Norge!" she half-scolded, half-gasped, a hand coming up to cover her mouth in shock.
"You know it's true." was his response, turning his gaze on her. "Your new friend may not know, but it isn't a secret to any of us who've lived here most our lives."
Hey. Said friend was standing right here.
"But it's...not really something we just talk about..." she said quietly, as if Alfred wasn't positioned directly between the two, hearing every word they were saying.
"He's going to find out sooner or later. I'll leave you to explain it. I can pick up my order later." And just as quickly as he'd appeared, he was gone.
How it all comes together (3d/?)
anonymous
December 28 2010, 23:58:22 UTC
"Please don't mind him." Lili said, casting a sad look in the direction the man--Norge--had left, "He says he sees and talks to fairies and other things like that. So it makes sense I guess for him to want to think that your home's true owner is Arthur Kirkland."
"O-kay." Alfred was more confused than ever, "What does seeing imaginary stuff have to do with him claiming I don't own my house?"
"Well..." Lili's voice trailed off, and she turned her gaze from his, much like she had the day he had bought the model of the Green Lady.
"He just said that everyone around here but me 'knows', but I don't even know what I don't know!" Alfred hated secrets, especially when they were ones being kept from him. And especially if they were about his house--and possible property disputes with some guy he'd never even heard of before. Wait. Arthur Kirkland. AK...was there a W thrown in there somewhere?
Maybe? He hadn't asked Lili about the crest yet.
"And hey, what about this?" he pressed, whipping out his phone and showing her a tiny picture he had taken of the carving. "Does this have anything to do with what you two were talking about?"
She definitely recognized it. "Oh, that's! You see, it's his..." she began, not sounding like she really wanted to talk about it. "I'm...I'm sorry." she glanced away, looking rather ashamed of herself. "I really must get Norge's order ready. I'd hate to make him wait too much longer!" she said, taking the Viking ship--it must have been that Norge guy's--it's box and an armful of other packing supplies and disappearing into the shop's back storeroom.
And Alfred found himself standing in the middle of an empty store. By now his curiosity was in overdrive and he was practically burning with a need for answers no one was giving him. But he would just have to deal with it a little longer. If he kept pushing it right now, he was sure all he'd end up with would be an upset Lili and an angry Vash. Neither of which Alfred wanted. He was a hero and a good friend! And also not suicidal.
...........................................
It seemed like the only people Alfred could get a straight answer from would be those without connections to his house. And while asking Francis and Lili had ended up not yielding any new information, he did still have that sculpture. And he knew exactly who he could ask about that.
"Hey, Antonio!" He called the next day at work, chasing his fellow professor down in the hallway of the history building after his final classes had finished.
Antonio Fernández Carriedo, perhaps the only professor at Brikinson thought to be more cheerful than Alfred (and if Alfred didn't have a house throwing monkey-wrenches into his life all the time, he would have challenged that), stopped and turned, hearing his name being called. "Hm?"
Alfred paused to catch his breath before turning to face his college, attempting to look as casual as possible. "If you have a second, I've got a ship question for you."
The other smiled, always happy to talk about his subject of expertise. "I'm sure I have an answer for you. Or at least I can point you in the right direction to find it."
"Great! You're a lifesaver, I've been running out of people to ask." Finally! With any luck he'd soon be getting somewhere. "Ever heard of a pirate ship that seems to be pretty well-known among the locals? It's called the Green Lady. And hey, I have this picture of some crest or symbol that I think has some relation to it. It's been kind of a project of mine trying to figure out as much as I can about the thing, now let me see if I can..." He bent down, digging his cell phone from his pocket and searching through his saved photos for the images he'd taken of the sculpture. When he looked up again he was surprised to see his coworker sporting an unusually serious expression.
"Yes, I know about that ship." Antonio answered, "It appears most prominently in history during the late 1600's--what is called the Golden Age of Piracy." he explained. "Her captain was a man by the name of Arthur Kirkland."
How it all comes together (3e/?)
anonymous
December 29 2010, 00:01:55 UTC
"Wait. That's who Arthur Kirkland is?" Alfred realized belatedly that he had just voiced his thoughts out loud. His companion had stopped speaking and was looking at him, his expression indicating he was hoping for an explanation for the outburst. "Oh. It's just um, that I've been hearing the name around town lately and I've been wondering who everyone was talking about." Which was true, if you thought about it.
Antonio looked at him for a moment longer, but continued, "Yes, that's who he was. And he was a man of pretty infamous reputation throughout the Caribbean. No ship that challenged him ever escaped unscathed, if they even escaped at all, you know?"
"No W?"
"Sorry?" Antonio asked, clearly confused as to where a question like that had come from, and maybe pouting a bit at having his impromptu history lecture being interrupted again. He really got into them, and was known to keep talking well past the end of his scheduled class times; until one of his students or a passing teacher took pity on him and clued the Spaniard in to the fact that he was lecturing to an empty room.
"In his name. There uh, wouldn't happen to have been a W, would there? Out of curiosity." Alfred answered lamely. He probably could have worded that better.
To his credit, Antonio took the odd question in stride, "Not during his pirating days, but who knows after he settled here?" he said, "Following his sudden disappearance from the pirating world, he pretty much faded from history. It's fairly well-known now that he in fact gave up the sea to return to his home country of England and settle into the life of a gentleman. But like I was saying, with his reputation he had to change his identity and disappear to do that. Some generations later, part of his family retook the Kirkland name, which is why we even know this much about his fate." He sighed. "And that's all people care to know. Captain Kirkland's renown was for his unrivaled skills as a pirate, and most of the writing on him stops there."
"Really?" Alfred asked. This was all pretty interesting, if not foreboding in regards to his own situation. "I would have thought someone would try to profit off the fact that a famous pirate was their next-door neighbor. You know, once word got out about it."
"To be honest, Alfred, I'm surprised you found out this much on your own. The Kirkland Mansion is one of the best-kept secrets of the region. It took me forever to get someone to give me a straight answer about its location."
'It helps that I'm pretty sure I live there.' he thought. "And this place he settled? It's pretty close to the school?" Was what he actually said though. Alfred was sure he already knew what the answer would be.
He wasn't disappointed--or would it be relieved?--at Antonio's response. "Not even an hour's drive. I've wanted to visit it for the longest time, but the owner made it very clear to me that they do not want any visitors to the mansion."
Well that was something Francis certainly hadn't told him. 'Probably not the best selling point.' Alfred thought sarcastically.
Antonio had begun detailing Captain Kirkland's impressive naval record; from his successful attack on the fortress Matanceros--he sounded the slightest bit bitter about that one--to his narrow escape following the raid of a merchant ship through a fierce tropical storm, the same storm that had easily destroyed the two naval ships pursuing him. But Alfred was only half-listening now. He had his answer for what was going on, and who was haunting his house and generally making his life insane. After all, he had the Green Lady sitting atop his mantel, bringing down all of the rival ships that came before her.
Guess saying there was an angry pirate ghost who wasn't too keen on sharing his home wasn't a good selling point to mention either. Man, Francis had a lot of explaining to do the next time Alfred talked to him. And this also explained why Lili was being so tight-lipped about his house. She probably didn't want to burden him with the fact that he was living with a ghost--did everyone know besides him? It was most likely why she looked so guilty around him. Probably pitied Alfred getting saddled with the place.
How it all comes together (3f/?)
anonymous
December 29 2010, 00:04:23 UTC
Alfred found himself pouting. He didn't like being pitied; it wasn't a very heroic quality.
He supposed he needed to prove that he didn't need anyone feeling bad for him. Now that he knew what the problem was, he was perfectly capable of taking care of it and making everybody involved a lot happier. He'd even invite Fernández over to explore the house to his heart's content afterwards; he was already looking forward to the expression on the history professor's face when he told him who the newest owner of the Kirkland mansion was.
But first he had some ghostbusting to do.
Antonio was still talking as Alfred walked away; with a lot of determination and no plan whatsoever.
~~~~~~~~ I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas holiday! Sorry I pretty much turned Spain into a walking exposition device in this part, but I hope you all enjoyed it anyway.
Thanks for reading and commenting, anons! You guys make my day!
Re Re Re Re: How it all comes together (RE: 3f/?)
anonymous
December 29 2010, 00:32:21 UTC
Do you know that feeling you get sometimes, the one where you just crave? Today, I had that feeling. I crave these words, sentences, paragraphs. I crave this gosh dang story.
I've had my fix for now, but I can assure you I will come crawling back for another hit sooner than later, most likely with mussed hair and scrabbling fingers. Also possibly missing a few teeth.
Now I have looked at the word 'crave' too many times and am getting weirded out by it.
Re: How it all comes together (3f/?)
anonymous
December 31 2010, 07:37:44 UTC
Darn you. Now I have that Ghostbuster song stuck in my head >.<
Also oblivious!Antonio who doesn't notice that he's lecturing to an empty classroom/hallway is funny.
This conspiracy with the haunted house and how everyone in the village but Alfred knows is seriously interesting. I'm of the mindset that Alfred was part of Arthur's crew in his past life. I cannot wait till Alfred and Arthur meet and the smexy time.
OP hangs her head....
anonymous
January 1 2011, 02:58:55 UTC
Sorry it's taken me so long to get to this. It's been a crazy week.
Love, love, love, love, love so very much about this. All the interactions the way that the history of the house (and of England) is slowly starting to unfold but with more mystery added then actual answers reveled.
So very many questions I have that I can't wait to get the answers too (though I hope it takes a while...I'm greedy like that lol)
And oh lord I can't wait to see Alfred attempt ghostbusting. I bet that will be both horrifying and hilarious to see.
Thank you so much and sorry again for this taking me so long to get to. <3
That you for your wonderful comments, OP. Sorry it took me this long to respond. New Year's was crazy.
I'm glad you like the way the fic's going. I had a lot of background and build up I needed to establish before introducing Arthur (which will be next part!) and was worried readers would think I was taking too long to bring him in. Some answers, and more (attempts at) mystery to come!
Knowing
He could hear the phone on the other end of the line ringing. Once. Twice.
"Bonjour." A familiar voice picked up on the third ring.
"Hey there, Mr. Bonnefoy." Alfred said in a cheerful tone that he wasn't really feeling, "It's Alfred Jones. You know, who bought your house?"
"Who bought my...Of course. It's good to hear from you, Monsieur Jones. And please, feel free to call me Francis." the other's voice had sounded confused at first--Weird. He hadn't sold Alfred the house that long ago--but it had now taken on that same flirtatious quality Alfred was becoming used to hearing from the man. "What is it I can help you with? I assume this is not a social call. Although naturally I wouldn't mind if it was."
"Yeah. I, uh, just wanted to call to ask you a quick question about the house. If you don't mind." Well actually, he didn't really want to ask it; it was more like he had no choice.
It wasn't that Alfred was scared. No, of course not! So what if he couldn't really talk to any of his close friends and family back in America--and Canada, hey there Matt--about all this? It's not like it was his fault that all the suspense and horror films he used to watch back home were really, really well done (not scary) and they'd probably laugh at him if he said he thought he had a ghost problem. But it was very inconvenient. And hey! Asking Francis was the best course of action anyway. If anyone knew anything about how weird and creepy his house was acting, it would be the previous owner, right? And he did say to call if he needed to ask anything. Although that might have been the flirting thing...
"It's no problem at all. What is it you would like to know?" the Frenchman interrupted his train of thought.
"Well uh...." Would asking if his house had ghosts be unheroic sounding? It wasn't cowardly to want to know, right? He wasn't admitting ghosts scared him, which they didn't thank you, by asking or anything like that. Maybe if he worded it a little different though. Just so there wasn't any misinterpretation.
"Hm?" Francis prompted when Alfred still didn't answer.
"Is um....there isn't anything supernatural or stuff like that about the house is there?" There. That sounded okay, didn't it? And...huh? What was that? He could have sworn...
Chuckling interrupted his thoughts. "Supernatural? You mean ghosts like...like those that followed Scrooge and such? It's not Christmas for a while yet, Monsieur Jones."
"Hey, it's a serious question!" Alfred protested, realizing his voice sounded a bit whiner than he intended it to. But this guy was totally making fun of him! And that still didn't explain why Alfred thought that he had...
"Ah. My apologies. It was just such a bizarre question, non? Of course my first instinct was to think it a joke."
That isn't true, Alfred wanted to say. But was he right in thinking that, or just hearing things? The Frenchman's voice sounded believable but...
"So if I may ask, is there any particular reason you wanted to ask me such a thing?" Francis continued, keeping Alfred from holding onto that thought for too long.
"I...guess not. No." It didn't sound like Francis had an answer to his problem, "Unless you have something you want to tell me about the water and electricity around here." Couldn't hurt to mention those. Maybe there was a logical explanation for them.
"Nothing that I'm aware of." Dammit. "As far as I know, they both work fine." Another laugh. "And in any case, if you're having problems with them I would think it to be a very naturel case of old wiring that is the cause."
Alfred felt his face heat up in embarrassment. So much for this conversation not making him look foolish. "Well, uh, thanks then. I guess that's all I wanted to talk about." He bid a hasty good-bye to Francis and hung up before he could talk himself further into a corner. Not to mention he wanted to replay that conversation back in his head without any outside interruptions.
Had he?
Hadn't he?
No, he hadn't been wrong. Now that he didn't have Francis' teasing in his ear to distract him, Alfred knew what it was he'd heard. It had been almost inaudible but...
Reply
..................................
Francis knew something. He had to. But it didn't look like Alfred was going to get any answers out of the guy, if the teasing and avoidance of his question were anything to go by. At least not without a little leverage.
And so Alfred started looking around for some. At least he had some kind starting point anyway. Francis' gasp had definitely been in response to Alfred's question about the supernatural. That meant ghosts.
...
Well, it didn't have to be ghosts. Supernatural didn't mean just ghosts and spirits after all. Another reason why he had worded the question the way he did when he'd asked. It could totally be something else! But just in case it was a ghost, Alfred decided to begin by looking into his house's history. He figured he would need to start searching pretty far back. Ghosts were old after all--at least ones in increasingly creepy big mansions.
And just like that he hit his first snag. Francis, the jerk, had removed any personal or identifying items from the property before he sold it. One look told him the house was pretty old, but other than that Alfred couldn't find any sort of item or document telling him who the place belonged to originally, or even just how old it was. He supposed he could try researching the address, but he had been hoping to narrow his search down a little bit more than that before hitting the books.
"Guess I have no choice then."
Which is why Alfred found himself pulling his scarf a little bit tighter around his neck and venturing outside into the cold of his back yard. He'd already done the one sweep through his house that first week he'd moved in and nothing stood out in his mind that could help him with his current problem. His more recent second go-round was therefore quick and unfortunately, as he suspected it would be, no more fruitful. That meant he had one more place he could look.
With five days a week spent commuting to work and teaching class, and much of his free time used to grade papers and also keep up with all the troubles the house threw his way, Alfred still somehow managed to keep his property in acceptable condition. He made sure his yard never grew too out of control, picked up stray branches as he saw them, and in the fall he had raked the fallen leaves into piles so high they made him wish he was a kid again, just so he could have an excuse to run and jump into them like he and his brother had done as children.
But there was only so much he could do. And that meant that the small but elaborate garden behind the house, already in quite some disarray when he had moved in, had fallen into a complete state of disrepair through neglect. Alfred thought it was a shame, but he didn't know the first thing about gardening, nor did he have the kind of spare time to dedicate to it that he was sure a garden like that required. Walking amongst the remains of what were once beautiful flowers, he highly doubted he was going to find anything here either, but it was his last shot at locating some clues.
He halfheartedly dug through the brush, loosing hope already that he would find something useful. There wasn't anything out here except a small shed with some gardening tools Alfred didn't know what to do with--they probably belonged to Francis or whoever the Frenchman had hired to care for the mansion's grounds before Alfred moved in--and a lot of dead, dried-up plant life.
'Maybe they're what's haunting me.' Alfred mused to himself, his mouth cracking into a small amused smile at the thought, 'I bet I can appease them if I clean this mess up a little bit.'
And why not? This was another dead end, so he might as well do something productive after spending so much time bundling up to come out here. He started brushing some fallen leaves off a pretty heavy-looking rock that had somehow made it's way into the middle of everything and found himself stopping dead.
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AKW
That could be useful. Especially considering what had really caught Alfred's eye. The ship.
The sculpture was faded and worn, undoubtedly it was very old. Many of the details of the ship were weathered away, but Alfred could still recognize the woman on the prow, reaching ahead.
It was the Green Lady.
.............................................
"Lili! Do you have a minute? I need to ask you something." Alfred burst into the Zwingli's store, only afterwards looking around to see whether or not his friend was actually working and present to hear his question.
She appeared from behind the counter, where she had been preparing a box for another one of her brother's models. It looked like a Viking vessel this time. "Of course. What did you need, Alfred?"
"It's about that last ship I bought--the Green Lady."
And there was that same nervousness he had noticed before, "Oh! Um....what did you want to know?"
"Your brother mentioned it had historical connections to the area. And I just found a statue of the same ship in my backyard with this weird family crest thingie or something carved on it. And I was just wondering, you know, what that was all about and if it had anything to do with my house and my bad piping and lights and everything..." As he babbled on, Lili's eyes got progressively wider, until she finally interrupted him.
"You mean you live in that house now?"
Alfred stopped. "The big mansion up the road a ways?"
She nodded.
"Yeah. You mean I never told you?" Now that he thought about it, he probably didn't. Alfred had felt a little awkward telling any of his friends and coworkers how he lived in a mansion that could put most of Beverly Hills to shame. He did come from a pretty well-to-do family back home, but he'd bought that house on his own money, which was far less substantial. He hadn't wanted any of his newfound acquaintances getting the wrong opinion of him because of where he lived. And after all the water problems--among everything else going on--it just wasn't practical for him to invite anyone over; or whine all the time about his three-story home and have them think he was constantly bragging or waving it in their faces.
The girl shook her head. "I didn't realize."
She looked pretty down. "It's okay." he said, "That was my mistake for never mentioning it. But I do still have that question about the ship, and whoever originally owned my house too."
"The house you're living in belongs to Arthur Kirkland." a voice said from behind him.
Alfred spun around, looking for who had just made such a bold statement. His eyes came to rest on a young man, probably around his age, staring at him impassively with cool blue eyes. His hair was pulled back on the left with some manner of hair clip, and Alfred wracked his brain trying to remember if he'd ever seen him before on his frequent trips into town. It was Lili, however, who was the one to identify him.
"Norge!" she half-scolded, half-gasped, a hand coming up to cover her mouth in shock.
"You know it's true." was his response, turning his gaze on her. "Your new friend may not know, but it isn't a secret to any of us who've lived here most our lives."
Hey. Said friend was standing right here.
"But it's...not really something we just talk about..." she said quietly, as if Alfred wasn't positioned directly between the two, hearing every word they were saying.
"He's going to find out sooner or later. I'll leave you to explain it. I can pick up my order later." And just as quickly as he'd appeared, he was gone.
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"O-kay." Alfred was more confused than ever, "What does seeing imaginary stuff have to do with him claiming I don't own my house?"
"Well..." Lili's voice trailed off, and she turned her gaze from his, much like she had the day he had bought the model of the Green Lady.
"He just said that everyone around here but me 'knows', but I don't even know what I don't know!" Alfred hated secrets, especially when they were ones being kept from him. And especially if they were about his house--and possible property disputes with some guy he'd never even heard of before. Wait. Arthur Kirkland. AK...was there a W thrown in there somewhere?
Maybe? He hadn't asked Lili about the crest yet.
"And hey, what about this?" he pressed, whipping out his phone and showing her a tiny picture he had taken of the carving. "Does this have anything to do with what you two were talking about?"
She definitely recognized it. "Oh, that's! You see, it's his..." she began, not sounding like she really wanted to talk about it. "I'm...I'm sorry." she glanced away, looking rather ashamed of herself. "I really must get Norge's order ready. I'd hate to make him wait too much longer!" she said, taking the Viking ship--it must have been that Norge guy's--it's box and an armful of other packing supplies and disappearing into the shop's back storeroom.
And Alfred found himself standing in the middle of an empty store. By now his curiosity was in overdrive and he was practically burning with a need for answers no one was giving him. But he would just have to deal with it a little longer. If he kept pushing it right now, he was sure all he'd end up with would be an upset Lili and an angry Vash. Neither of which Alfred wanted. He was a hero and a good friend! And also not suicidal.
...........................................
It seemed like the only people Alfred could get a straight answer from would be those without connections to his house. And while asking Francis and Lili had ended up not yielding any new information, he did still have that sculpture. And he knew exactly who he could ask about that.
"Hey, Antonio!" He called the next day at work, chasing his fellow professor down in the hallway of the history building after his final classes had finished.
Antonio Fernández Carriedo, perhaps the only professor at Brikinson thought to be more cheerful than Alfred (and if Alfred didn't have a house throwing monkey-wrenches into his life all the time, he would have challenged that), stopped and turned, hearing his name being called. "Hm?"
Alfred paused to catch his breath before turning to face his college, attempting to look as casual as possible. "If you have a second, I've got a ship question for you."
The other smiled, always happy to talk about his subject of expertise. "I'm sure I have an answer for you. Or at least I can point you in the right direction to find it."
"Great! You're a lifesaver, I've been running out of people to ask." Finally! With any luck he'd soon be getting somewhere. "Ever heard of a pirate ship that seems to be pretty well-known among the locals? It's called the Green Lady. And hey, I have this picture of some crest or symbol that I think has some relation to it. It's been kind of a project of mine trying to figure out as much as I can about the thing, now let me see if I can..." He bent down, digging his cell phone from his pocket and searching through his saved photos for the images he'd taken of the sculpture. When he looked up again he was surprised to see his coworker sporting an unusually serious expression.
"Yes, I know about that ship." Antonio answered, "It appears most prominently in history during the late 1600's--what is called the Golden Age of Piracy." he explained. "Her captain was a man by the name of Arthur Kirkland."
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Antonio looked at him for a moment longer, but continued, "Yes, that's who he was. And he was a man of pretty infamous reputation throughout the Caribbean. No ship that challenged him ever escaped unscathed, if they even escaped at all, you know?"
"No W?"
"Sorry?" Antonio asked, clearly confused as to where a question like that had come from, and maybe pouting a bit at having his impromptu history lecture being interrupted again. He really got into them, and was known to keep talking well past the end of his scheduled class times; until one of his students or a passing teacher took pity on him and clued the Spaniard in to the fact that he was lecturing to an empty room.
"In his name. There uh, wouldn't happen to have been a W, would there? Out of curiosity." Alfred answered lamely. He probably could have worded that better.
To his credit, Antonio took the odd question in stride, "Not during his pirating days, but who knows after he settled here?" he said, "Following his sudden disappearance from the pirating world, he pretty much faded from history. It's fairly well-known now that he in fact gave up the sea to return to his home country of England and settle into the life of a gentleman. But like I was saying, with his reputation he had to change his identity and disappear to do that. Some generations later, part of his family retook the Kirkland name, which is why we even know this much about his fate." He sighed. "And that's all people care to know. Captain Kirkland's renown was for his unrivaled skills as a pirate, and most of the writing on him stops there."
"Really?" Alfred asked. This was all pretty interesting, if not foreboding in regards to his own situation. "I would have thought someone would try to profit off the fact that a famous pirate was their next-door neighbor. You know, once word got out about it."
"To be honest, Alfred, I'm surprised you found out this much on your own. The Kirkland Mansion is one of the best-kept secrets of the region. It took me forever to get someone to give me a straight answer about its location."
'It helps that I'm pretty sure I live there.' he thought. "And this place he settled? It's pretty close to the school?" Was what he actually said though. Alfred was sure he already knew what the answer would be.
He wasn't disappointed--or would it be relieved?--at Antonio's response. "Not even an hour's drive. I've wanted to visit it for the longest time, but the owner made it very clear to me that they do not want any visitors to the mansion."
Well that was something Francis certainly hadn't told him. 'Probably not the best selling point.' Alfred thought sarcastically.
Antonio had begun detailing Captain Kirkland's impressive naval record; from his successful attack on the fortress Matanceros--he sounded the slightest bit bitter about that one--to his narrow escape following the raid of a merchant ship through a fierce tropical storm, the same storm that had easily destroyed the two naval ships pursuing him. But Alfred was only half-listening now. He had his answer for what was going on, and who was haunting his house and generally making his life insane. After all, he had the Green Lady sitting atop his mantel, bringing down all of the rival ships that came before her.
Guess saying there was an angry pirate ghost who wasn't too keen on sharing his home wasn't a good selling point to mention either. Man, Francis had a lot of explaining to do the next time Alfred talked to him. And this also explained why Lili was being so tight-lipped about his house. She probably didn't want to burden him with the fact that he was living with a ghost--did everyone know besides him? It was most likely why she looked so guilty around him. Probably pitied Alfred getting saddled with the place.
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He supposed he needed to prove that he didn't need anyone feeling bad for him. Now that he knew what the problem was, he was perfectly capable of taking care of it and making everybody involved a lot happier. He'd even invite Fernández over to explore the house to his heart's content afterwards; he was already looking forward to the expression on the history professor's face when he told him who the newest owner of the Kirkland mansion was.
But first he had some ghostbusting to do.
Antonio was still talking as Alfred walked away; with a lot of determination and no plan whatsoever.
~~~~~~~~
I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas holiday! Sorry I pretty much turned Spain into a walking exposition device in this part, but I hope you all enjoyed it anyway.
Thanks for reading and commenting, anons! You guys make my day!
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I've had my fix for now, but I can assure you I will come crawling back for another hit sooner than later, most likely with mussed hair and scrabbling fingers. Also possibly missing a few teeth.
Now I have looked at the word 'crave' too many times and am getting weirded out by it.
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Wow, that's a lot of Re's
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Wow, this is such a cool story--I'm sitting on the edge of my seat right now :DDDD
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Also oblivious!Antonio who doesn't notice that he's lecturing to an empty classroom/hallway is funny.
This conspiracy with the haunted house and how everyone in the village but Alfred knows is seriously interesting. I'm of the mindset that Alfred was part of Arthur's crew in his past life. I cannot wait till Alfred and Arthur meet and the smexy time.
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Love, love, love, love, love so very much about this. All the interactions the way that the history of the house (and of England) is slowly starting to unfold but with more mystery added then actual answers reveled.
So very many questions I have that I can't wait to get the answers too (though I hope it takes a while...I'm greedy like that lol)
And oh lord I can't wait to see Alfred attempt ghostbusting. I bet that will be both horrifying and hilarious to see.
Thank you so much and sorry again for this taking me so long to get to. <3
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I'm glad you like the way the fic's going. I had a lot of background and build up I needed to establish before introducing Arthur (which will be next part!) and was worried readers would think I was taking too long to bring him in. Some answers, and more (attempts at) mystery to come!
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