[Part 15] Ghostly Encounters of the Pirate Kind -- UKUS
anonymous
August 7 2011, 06:02:35 UTC
Alfred Jones inherits himself a musty old British mansion. He doesn't have a clue what to do with it when he goes to visit. He's even less thrilled to discover his inheritance comes with an added problem in the form of the irritating ghost of a Pirate Captain. Said Pirate isn't any more thrilled to have this American interloper on his property so a battle of wills forms between them.
What happens plot wise is completely up to you. If you want to figure out how to work in ghostly sexual shenanigans that's perfectly fine but it's not necessary. Any other pairings or character additions are fine.
Bonus: The more time Arthur spends with his new housemate the more and more the non-ghost reminds him of a young man he loved (and whose death he caused) while he was still alive. Bonus 2: Just like that young man has a reincarnated form in the modern world so too does Arthur...
How it all comes together (10a/?)
anonymous
August 7 2011, 06:13:17 UTC
How it all comes together (or Good things come in Twos) Disturbing Behavior
The following morning Alfred was up early.
Darkness greeted him when he turned towards the windows--not even a hint of coming dawn could be seen. Sunrise wasn't for at least a couple more hours, but he wasn't going to be getting any more rest. His sleep until that point could have been better classified as uneasy tossing and turning anyway. The guilt, the uncertainty of where they were going to go from here, had kept his mind from finding peace. And on top of that he had gotten himself all wound up during the fight. No matter how much his tired body simply wanted to drift off, it just wasn't going to happen. So he figured getting an extra early start every now and then never hurt anyone.
Of course, he thought to himself, most early starts didn't normally come after a night like before.
Arthur hadn't reappeared after their argument, and Alfred had spent the hours afterward cleaning up the fallout from that fight. Alone. He'd hoped against the odds Arthur might return and they could try their hands again at talking things out, but the entire time he hadn't caught as much as a glimpse of the captain--were they still friends?--and was eventually forced to concede defeat, turning in for the night with hopes of seeing him the next day.
And here it was. Barely.
He was nervous. Arthur had every right to not want to look at Alfred right now. Perhaps not for a very long time, if ever. And maybe apologizing wouldn't change things. Maybe nothing he said or any reasons he had would be good enough to sway Arthur's feelings about what Alfred had done. But he’d try anyway. Whatever he had to do.
One restless night was more than enough. He desperately wanted things between them to be okay again. ............................................................
Alfred almost wished he had woken up that morning to a flooded bedroom or, when he walked into his bathroom, had been greeted with a cold and salty shower. Anything to indicate that, beyond all logic, this was just another one of their everyday spats. Albeit more serious than usual.
His morning, other than being ahead of schedule, went fine. He wasn't really in the best state of mind to judge, but Alfred felt it was the worst morning ever.
And then, coming down the stairs for breakfast, he finally saw Arthur. ............................................................
Arthur had heard Alfred moving about upstairs. A feeling of guilt rose up against his will as he wondered if the boy had managed to get any sleep at all. He had spent quite a while cleaning things up. As for Arthur himself...
Even after the image of thunder and lightning, of crashing and screaming, of death and loss, had turned back to just Alfred, mopping up tea from the floor, the scene had continued to play on in the captain's mind for long hours afterward. Usually his memories of that night only got the better of him during stormy weather, but the previous evening’s argument had brought them out with a force that the strongest of tempests couldn't have matched.
Between that and his recent revelation about Alfred, it had gotten Arthur thinking about his life (such as it was) in a new light. For the first time in oh so long, his past was no longer just his past. Maybe, just maybe, it was his present too. At that moment he had felt an emotion deep within himself that he had not felt in over a hundred years.
Along something even more wondrous and frightening. Hope.
He had spent so many years telling himself he couldn't change the past. That everything that had happened over the course of his life, his fondest memories and his greatest mistakes, could not be undone. Could not be corrected. His single greatest regret would haunt him forever. That’s what he had always believed. And now suddenly it--he was staring Arthur right in the face.
Literally.
"Hey Artie, uh...Arthur." Alfred sounded unsure of what to say. Arthur wasn't used to that.
But he was talking to him! This was his chance. To tell him, just as he'd earlier resolved to do. To see if. Just perhaps...
How it all comes together (10b/?)
anonymous
August 7 2011, 06:19:04 UTC
Say it! A voice inside him screamed. Tell him what happened. Tell him who he was. Your heart knew it, and now your mind does too. All that's left is to let him know! Let him know everything you've been carrying on your soul for so long. Your problems would all be solved.
Could it really be that easy?
Did he deserve this?
Was it fair to him? To Alfred?
Arthur still didn't know.
So he ran. ......................................................................
Alfred blinked as he found himself alone in the kitchen. Arther hadn't said a word to him. Just faded away.
He stared at the place where the captain had been standing only moments before, not sure why. Maybe trying to will him back? If that was the case, it wasn't working.
Despite getting up hours early, Alfred was still almost late for work. ..............................................................
Arthur didn't reappear until Alfred had left for Brikinson. (Although he had almost said something, worried at how the boy had stood there, staring at that one spot for so long.) The walls were his only audience as he hung his head and cursed himself in silence. ............................................................
Arthur had just disappeared on him. Again.
Alfred arrived at work feeling out of sorts. He couldn't concentrate on anything, what with nonstop thoughts of Arthur filling his mind. Not to mention his lack of proper sleep the night before had caught up with him. He even ended up switching a batch of essays from one class with that of another; not too difficult to believe considering his mental state. The real kicker was that despite this, he still somehow managed to pass half of them back before one of his students was finally able to get his attention and inform him of his error.
He was too tired to even act embarrassed.
"Oh, thank you." he whispered to no one in particular as he closed his office door behind him. Alfred practically fell into his chair and let his head hit the top of the desk, lacking the energy to hold it up anymore. Wednesdays were surely a gift from God. His next class wasn't for three hours.
A magnet was attached to a filing cabinet in the corner of the room; a gift from Matt. On it a tiny, adorable polar bear cub sat rolled in a ball, eyes closed and obviously at peace. The magnet had been stuck on at an off-angle, but the phrase beneath the image was still easy to read for anyone who glanced at it.
'But first, a cozy nap'
Alfred was going to take Mr. Polar Bear up on that.
A light knock came at the door.
...Or not.
The noise that escaped Alfred's throat was something between a groan and a whine. Maybe if he just ignored the person on the other side of the door they'd go away?
...No. He couldn't do that. Alfred always made time for his students, no matter how busy or otherwise occupied he was. With some reluctance, he placed a hand down on either side of his face and slowly pushed himself back up into a sitting position. He ran his fingers quickly through his hair and straightened out his glasses before turning he head towards the door. "Come on in." he called, pleased with himself that his voice came out bright and clear.
It wasn't a student who opened the door.
While it had been a long time since they last spoken face to face, Alfred instantly recognized him. The man had a look all his own, he had to admit. Why he was here though, that he could only guess. Talk about good timing.
Or bad timing. Alfred was still deciding on that one.
"I hope you will forgive me coming by unannounced." Francis Bonnefoy said with a friendly smile. .............................................................................
Alfred had offered his guest a seat once he saw who it was. He couldn't imagine the man had any business with the university, but he also didn't think Francis would have come out all this way for nothing but a quick hello.
How it all comes together (10c/?)
anonymous
August 7 2011, 06:24:00 UTC
The Frenchman eased himself down into one of the chairs Alfred kept in his office for guests or appointments. Not wanting to looking like he was distancing himself--and not wanting to seem rude, Francis was hardly a student--Alfred grabbed a second chair and turned it towards the other before sitting down himself, rather than going back behind his desk.
He was the first to speak. "You know, I think I'm actually glad you dropped by."
"Oh?" The Frenchman cocked his head, the expression on his face a mix between curiosity and amusement. "You only think?" he asked with a playful look.
"Yeah, I was wondering if I could ask you something. About a situation I'm in that I'm not sure how to fix."
"I’m not sure why you would come to me, but I’m always happy to offer advice.” Francis grinned, “Perhaps you are having relationship troubles? That is my specialty.”
Alfred blushed, "No. Uh, no. Nothing like that.” He took a breath. “It's about Arthur Kirkland." He answered, glad his answer came out strong and sure. Alfred wouldn't let the other deny it this time. He wasn't sure how, but the last time they had spoken--had it really been almost a year ago?--Francis had known about Arthur. Now Alfred wanted to see if he knew Arthur. And could give him advice on how to get his friend talking again. Or something.
The other was silent for a long moment. Then finally, "How strange, and here I was coming to talk with you about just the same person." There was a soft smile on his face, an almost relieved expression. "So you've managed to see him then?"
"Yeah. It took a little while, but I found out what was going on. Why everyone seemed so weirded out about me living in his house."
Francis nodded, "But it's understandable, non? Considering the ah...unique situation. It's not exactly the kind of thing one runs into every day."
"You can say that again." Alfred agreed, "But why didn't you warn me ahead of time; keep it some big secret? It was a bit of a shock when I did find out. Even though everything worked out in the end." Or had been working out at least, he thought sadly.
Francis fixed him with a look that said he already knew the answer. "Would you have agreed to buy the house from me had you known?"
Alfred thought it over. He would have laughed if Francis had told him something as (then) unbelievable as the mansion was haunted, that was for sure. But that wouldn't have changed the fact that it had been a great deal. So he would have definitely overlooked such a statement! No way would he have let a little comment like that get to him or sway his mind. So what that ghosts (besides Arthur...most of the time) made him a little nervous? And he'd be living by himself in the middle of no where. He was sure he'd have still taken the house. He was sure...
He didn't realize how long he'd been sitting there contemplating his answer until his companion broke the silence. There was a sad smile on his face, not dissimilar from the one he wore during their conversation the day Alfred had moved into the mansion. "See what I mean?"
"Well....I would have had to think about it a little more." Alfred finally conceded.
Francis nodded, letting the topic drop. "In any case," he continued, "I cannot tell you how relieved I am to hear that you have accepted Arthur into your life, despite my little ah, deception. Like it or not, Monsieur Jones, the person now responsible for Arthur is you. The Kirkland mansion, and more than that I believe, if you have taken to him the way it sounds like you have, tie you together. You are the reason he can...exist as he is right now. I hope you have come to realize this."
"I wouldn't say all that." Alfred said, surprised to see the Frenchman's eyes take on a sudden intensity. Responsible for Artie? The Captain was more than capable of taking care of himself. After all, he didn't seem to need Alfred's help in getting around before, did he? So what did Francis mean he was the reason Arthur could exist? He wasn't doing anything special. In fact..."In fact, I think I might have made things worse for him." he admitted.
How it all comes together (10d/?)
anonymous
August 7 2011, 06:26:53 UTC
Alfred nodded. "The situation's gotten...complicated lately. I want things to work out; I'm determined to make them work out. But if they don't...." If Arthur never forgave him. If he did, but the gap of distrust that had formed between them last night was never fully bridged...Francis made it sound like he was doing so much more for Arthur than he actually was; that he should be doing so much more for the captain. "I'm not sure on the details of how, but you seem to know a lot more about Artie than I do." He recalled the scene earlier that morning, when Arthur had simply faded from sight without a word. "Maybe you know better than me what's best for him."
For the first time that Alfred had seen, Francis looked openly distraught. "I know that it might be hard for you, but...if you understood just what your being there, in that house, means for Arthur. If you understood at all the reason why I sold you that home at such a price, you would never be saying such things. I had hoped..."
His accent had gotten heavy, if he got any more emotional Alfred wouldn't have been surprised if Francis switched completely into French. His companion took a few deep breaths that looked to calm him slightly.
"My apologies. It's simply...perhaps, in fact I know for most people, having to deal with Arthur would seem a burden. But it's not. He's not. You're correct. I do know much about Arthur, more than he's aware of I'm sure. So believe me when I say that he needs someone like you, Monsieur Jones. In fact, if I may be so bold as to say, I feel like you're just what he needs. You were meant to be here." He continued, "I'm sure that sounds strange, and more than a little dramatic, but I believe in trusting my heart on matters such as these. And considering we are talking about Arthur Kirkland, perhaps those gut feelings--the things we cannot necessarily touch or see--are the best sources of advice we can listen to."
Alfred felt a little overwhelmed at the conviction with which Francis spoke. It was a little intimidating, even for someone as confident as him, to hear how much faith the other appeared to have in his being what Arthur needed, whatever that entailed exactly.
"And with that being said, I'm afraid I must be going now." Francis pushed himself up out of his seat, "I apologize for cutting our conversation short. I saw it as going much differently in my head. Nevertheless, thank you for taking the time to see me, Monsieur Jones."
"Huh? But wait--" Alfred still had some more things to ask him. And he'd never even gotten the chance to explain the fight he and Arthur'd had last night and get advice on dealing with that.
"Believe me." the Frenchman interjected, giving him a kind smile, unlike the flirtatious looks Alfred remembered often receiving from the man, "You are doing just fine. It's good to see Arthur has found himself in such good hands."
But he isn't! Alfred almost shouted. I messed things up. You're saying I'm supposed to be helping Arthur? All I did last night was hurt him.
Unaware of his inner turmoil, Francis gave him one last customary wink before he left. ......................................................................
Alfred came home even more of a mess than he'd been when he left, if that was possible. He couldn't get Francis' visit out of his mind. Lili, Ivan, Francis, all he got from everyone he spoke to was more questions.
He was helping Arthur? Perhaps not too long ago, such a statement might have made him happy. Now he just felt nervous and unsure at such an idea.
Because whatever he was supposed to be doing, he was doing it wrong. If Francis had stayed to hear just what kind of state he and his ghostly housemate were in right now, he would never have said that Alfred was what Arthur needed.
Arthur, who was standing there to greet him when he opened the door and walked inside.
How it all comes together (10e/?)
anonymous
August 7 2011, 06:30:59 UTC
Arthur. Who he...he did care about. And did want to do right by. But was that enough? Of course didn't want to upset or hurt him, but Alfred still didn't know what he was supposed to be doing, how he was supposed to be keeping that from happening. He had been uncertain enough about how things were going play out when he returned home before talking with Francis. But now there was something he was apparently supposed to have been doing. If that was the case, it just made him feel that much more awful that he'd obviously failed, and might do so again in his ignorance.
Maybe the Frenchman was just messing with him when he'd told Alfred all that stuff, but he'd looked so confident in what he had been saying.
While Alfred wasn't sure if what he said next was going to solve anything, or just make it worse.
So he ran. ...............................................................
He had just gotten out the other's name when Alfred turned and made a bee-line back for the door.
...
Was that it then? Had his actions this morning been the last straw? Alfred had been willing to make the attempt to talk to him earlier, but now...perhaps he'd just lost his final chance. It might be over.
There was only one problem with pursuing that line of thought. Arthur Kirkland didn't surrender, no matter how daunting the situation before him.
And not with something as important as this. As him. Arthur had lost him once. He may have lost him again already (if he had ever had him to lose in this life), but he would know for sure before letting either of them just give up.
He forced the name out, before he could second guess himself again. "Frederick."
Arthur had never called him that. Why would he? It wasn't his name. But Alfred responded to it nonetheless, halting in his movement to the door and turning without even knowing why. His body found the call familiar, even if his mind didn't.
"I don't know how I didn't see it immediately, but it's you. I'm sure of it now. Been sure of it for some time really." There was nothing but complete certainty in Arthur's tone. A sort of calm had taken him over, as if he'd made a decision of some sort.
Alfred wished he could have had half that certainty right then. "Uh...yes?"
"Alfred, there's something I need to tell you. Do you have a moment?"
Slowly, Alfred found himself nodding.
Arthur smiled. It was small, and kind of sad, but it made him look amazing. Different from all the smirks, or the teasing upward turns of the mouth Alfred was more familiar with. "Last night...you asked me something." And Alfred knew just what he was referring to. The fight. His last words.
"So what happened to you, Arthur? That makes you cry during storms, that made you give up the one thing you said you did nothing but love?"
"I need to give you a proper answer to your question."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Get it together, boys! You can do it!
Oh wow this took a ridiculously long time to update. I am so sorry. I sort of wrote myself into a corner over the last few parts as far as how things needed to play out, and it took me a while to pull myself out of my dunce corner and figure out how to fix it. Hopefully, this part was as least kind of worth the wait. <3? I'm not sure how happy I am with how everyone ended up acting this part, but as I said, certain things needed to happen and it's (hopefully) going to be at least slightly smoother sailing from here on out.
Thanks so much to those of you still reading and sticking with me; please enjoy!
Also I was on the fence about Alfred's past self's name. But then one of my capchas was heydo frederick, one of the names I had been considering, and it was set. Oh capcha, you were a decision maker too and I never knew it.
A new reader
anonymous
August 7 2011, 14:48:09 UTC
ASFDGSJHDFGSJHLFGDGHJMHGDSHJGDS
You have NO IDEA how much I need more of this. ;A;
This, this story right here, is UKUS/USUK perfection and there's pirates involved which is a huge kink of mine and the tension and everything is just beautiful and hnnnnnnnnngh. I hadn't ever heard of this fill before seeing this update and now it is going to be in my bookmarks.
Please excuse me while I continue to rant incomprehensibly about this fill.
Re: A new reader
anonymous
August 8 2011, 17:00:20 UTC
Also a new reader. This is fabulous. I absolutely love it! I am glad I happened upon the update, and read through the whole thing rather quickly. I just can't get enough. I have it bookmarked. Did I mention that I love it? Because, I really can't say that enough. Really.
Re: How it all comes together (10e/?)
anonymous
August 7 2011, 20:14:04 UTC
Author!anon, I'm so freaking happy that you're back :)
Wow, so Francis knows that Alfred is not some random America, huh? I didn't expect that, I thought that he just wanted to get rid of an old haunted house.
Re: How it all comes together (10e/?)
anonymous
August 8 2011, 08:24:30 UTC
Omg, author!anon, I'm so happy you're back ;A;! For a moment I almost thought you had dropped this.
But it was worth the wait! This part was so good ;A; I actually liked that they both ran away at some points. They were both worried and didn't know what to say after all, so they did the first thing that came to their minds: run away.
Also, I'm glad that it was Arthur who asked Alfred if they could talk, and he even called him by his other name, I think that's like a huge step for him. Oh god, I can't wait for the next part!
Re: How it all comes together (10e/?)
anonymous
August 8 2011, 15:13:07 UTC
You have no idea how much I love you for writing this. When I saw the update in the fills list, I literally got up and ran around the kitchen once because I was so happy~ overreacting FTW OTL
You have a knack for stopping stories where it gets interesting. That's a good skill. I'm eager to read more :D You're doing great so far, so please keep writing, and good luck with the next chapter~
How it all comes together (11a/?)
anonymous
August 12 2011, 02:49:45 UTC
How it all comes together (or Good things come in Twos) Revelations I: Ghost Ship
Lifetimes ago...
Captain Arthur Kirkland knew his ship inside and out. The Green Lady was a much a part of him as one of his arms or legs.
Which is why he was loathe to admit that they had a stowaway on board.
It was a common enough occurrence for other captains, or so he had heard. But Arthur was always aware enough of the goings-on aboard his vessel that in the few cases where someone had tried to sneak onto his ship, they had been found out and removed almost immediately. However, it was nearly a week now since they'd last left port, and signs were beginning to appear that he had an unknown passenger, previously overlooked.
First, the food stores seemed to be diminishing at a slightly more rapid rate than normal. The crew knew better than to try and sneak more than their share of food. Everyone suffered when such a thing occurred. His men had also reported hearing noises below deck, as if someone was moving about down there. It could just as easily be rats, but the sounds seemed concentrated to one particular area. And then just the previous evening, his lookout had sworn he had seen a dark shape moving below him in the shadows.
That had been what finally convinced him. His men were the finest crew to ever sail the seas--Arthur Kirkland would stand for no less--and were more than competent at whatever tasks they were assigned.
If his lookout had seen someone, then someone was there.
"Search the ship. I want whoever dared think he could slip by me found and brought here. Immediately." he ordered his crew, fixing them with a look that said he expected results.
The deck came alive as the assembled pirates moved to scour the vessel. Arthur had the utmost faith that the matter of their little uninvited guest would shortly be resolved. .................................................................
"Hey! Let me go!" Arthur turned at the sounds of shouting coming from behind him. He was just in time to see two of his men pull a struggling boy up onto deck. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed how tightly they seemed to be holding onto him, as well how many of his crew looked like they were suffering black eyes or some other type of bruising. Had he really managed to do all that before being subdued?
And unarmed too, from the looks of it. "So you're the person foolish enough to sneak aboard the ship of Captain Arthur Kirkland." he addressed his captive, the bored look on his face hiding the fact he was slightly impressed.
The boy had the audacity to shrug, despite the situation he'd found himself in. "Ship is a ship. I was just looking for a way to anywhere but there." He must have been referring to their last port. It had been poor, unsavory place, even by pirates' standards (certainly by Arthur's).
"For that statement alone I should have you thrown overboard." Arthur said, dead serious. "I do not take insults to my Lady lightly. She is hardly any ship." He eyed the boy, making sure he had his complete attention. "What is your name?"
The boy matched his gaze in silence before answering. "Frederick ------." More silence. "So are you going to throw me over now?"
"Do you want me to, Mr. -----?" Arthur asked, curious at how accepting the boy was of his apparent fate. "Most people are not in such a hurry for that to happen."
"I'm not going to beg, if that's what you mean." was Frederick's answer, turning away.
Arthur found himself nodding in approval at the response. "It was not. But yes, I make it a rule to have any stowaways found thrown overboard upon discovery." A pause to see Frederick's reaction. "However..." He let the word hang in the air.
Frederick's head turned back towards him. Arthur in turn walked forward until they were standing face to face. He had never done anything like this before, but there was something about this boy...His attitude maybe. Or perhaps his obvious strength and skill that could be put to Arthur's use...
How it all comes together (11b/?)
anonymous
August 12 2011, 02:52:07 UTC
He gave a signal to his men to release their hold on the captive. "Hm. Well, you've been here this long. I suppose it won't hurt to keep you around a little longer; see if you can be of any use." He reached out his hand, "It will not be an easy life serving on my crew, and I will not settle for any less than the best from you. But it seems better than your other option, wouldn't you agree? What do you say to my offer, Mr. -----?"
Frederick took his hand. ...................................................................
Despite the serious (and violent, in his crew's case) nature of their initial meeting, Frederick ----- turned out to be a friendly, good-matured individual. It was a bit of an unconventional attitude for a pirate, but it did not stop him from being just as good and hard-working a sailor as Arthur had guessed he would be, and so he made no criticisms. In all honesty, the crew--to varying degrees--loved him, and treated him with a kind of gruff affection similar to what they might give a younger brother.
Even Arthur, who held a reputation for being ruthless and cold-hearted, could not help but be entertained at the boy's antics. The atmosphere on the Green Lady had changed. .................................................................
"Don't you have something you need to be doing, Mr. -----?" Arthur came up behind Frederick, who was standing near the prow of the ship, looking out into the sea in front of him. The sun was beginning to go down on the horizon, and the sky started to fill with color. The deck was bathed in a warm glow.
"Sorry Captain." Frederick turned, smiling. "It's such a beautiful sight, I couldn't help but stop to watch. I'll get back to work right away." And so he did.
Frederick hadn't shown a hint of fear or shame at being caught by his captain shirking his duty. Arthur was surprised when he realized he wasn't angry at that. ...................................................................
"I think it looks foolish. But I suppose you may spend your share of our plunder however you like."
Frederick pouted at Arthur's opinion of his new coat. The captain couldn't imagine what the boy saw in it. It was cut too short to begin with (probably some atrocious new French style) and had the most useless-looking brown trim around the collar, which was not helped by the fact that the rest of the garment was a similar dull, dark color.
"You really don't think it suits me?"
"There will never be a time I would think something like that suited you." .........................................................................
"Do you ever wish to leave?"
"Hm?" Frederick cocked his head in confusion, "What do you mean?"
"You have more than earned your keep for the week you stowed away. And we have stopped at countless ports since then. You don't have to stay with my crew. I won't force you." Arthur explained.
Frederick's face took on an unreadable expression as the words sunk in. "Do you want me to leave?" he finally asked. His voice was flat, like back when he had asked if he was going to be thrown overboard. How long ago was that now?
The truth was that of course Arthur didn't. The boy was a fine sailor, and one of the best crewmen he could have asked for, barring one major issue. He knew that he could probably have kept Frederick on for as long as he wanted, using the fact that he had spared his life against him. But he hadn't wanted it to be that way.
It had been nagging Arthur for some time now, wondering if Frederick was staying with him because he wished to, or just felt obligated to. It shouldn't have mattered, he was staying with Arthur it either case. But Arthur found that it did matter to him.
Although perhaps he could have articulated that sentiment a little better.
"Of course not." He walked past Frederick, looking out over the rail of the ship. The sun was beginning to set. "I was simply curious whether you actually wanted to be here. I am sure becoming a pirate was not your intention when you snuck aboard."
He became aware of movement behind him, and then Frederick was leaning on the rail by his side, looking into his eyes.
What happens plot wise is completely up to you. If you want to figure out how to work in ghostly sexual shenanigans that's perfectly fine but it's not necessary. Any other pairings or character additions are fine.
Bonus: The more time Arthur spends with his new housemate the more and more the non-ghost reminds him of a young man he loved (and whose death he caused) while he was still alive.
Bonus 2: Just like that young man has a reincarnated form in the modern world so too does Arthur...
Original request and Fill Parts 1-4:
How it all comes together
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/17942.html?thread=55994134#t55994134
Parts 5-9:
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/18772.html?thread=66076756#t66076756
Reply
Disturbing Behavior
The following morning Alfred was up early.
Darkness greeted him when he turned towards the windows--not even a hint of coming dawn could be seen. Sunrise wasn't for at least a couple more hours, but he wasn't going to be getting any more rest. His sleep until that point could have been better classified as uneasy tossing and turning anyway. The guilt, the uncertainty of where they were going to go from here, had kept his mind from finding peace. And on top of that he had gotten himself all wound up during the fight. No matter how much his tired body simply wanted to drift off, it just wasn't going to happen. So he figured getting an extra early start every now and then never hurt anyone.
Of course, he thought to himself, most early starts didn't normally come after a night like before.
Arthur hadn't reappeared after their argument, and Alfred had spent the hours afterward cleaning up the fallout from that fight. Alone. He'd hoped against the odds Arthur might return and they could try their hands again at talking things out, but the entire time he hadn't caught as much as a glimpse of the captain--were they still friends?--and was eventually forced to concede defeat, turning in for the night with hopes of seeing him the next day.
And here it was. Barely.
He was nervous. Arthur had every right to not want to look at Alfred right now. Perhaps not for a very long time, if ever. And maybe apologizing wouldn't change things. Maybe nothing he said or any reasons he had would be good enough to sway Arthur's feelings about what Alfred had done. But he’d try anyway. Whatever he had to do.
One restless night was more than enough. He desperately wanted things between them to be okay again.
............................................................
Alfred almost wished he had woken up that morning to a flooded bedroom or, when he walked into his bathroom, had been greeted with a cold and salty shower. Anything to indicate that, beyond all logic, this was just another one of their everyday spats. Albeit more serious than usual.
His morning, other than being ahead of schedule, went fine. He wasn't really in the best state of mind to judge, but Alfred felt it was the worst morning ever.
And then, coming down the stairs for breakfast, he finally saw Arthur.
............................................................
Arthur had heard Alfred moving about upstairs. A feeling of guilt rose up against his will as he wondered if the boy had managed to get any sleep at all. He had spent quite a while cleaning things up. As for Arthur himself...
Even after the image of thunder and lightning, of crashing and screaming, of death and loss, had turned back to just Alfred, mopping up tea from the floor, the scene had continued to play on in the captain's mind for long hours afterward. Usually his memories of that night only got the better of him during stormy weather, but the previous evening’s argument had brought them out with a force that the strongest of tempests couldn't have matched.
Between that and his recent revelation about Alfred, it had gotten Arthur thinking about his life (such as it was) in a new light. For the first time in oh so long, his past was no longer just his past. Maybe, just maybe, it was his present too. At that moment he had felt an emotion deep within himself that he had not felt in over a hundred years.
Along something even more wondrous and frightening. Hope.
He had spent so many years telling himself he couldn't change the past. That everything that had happened over the course of his life, his fondest memories and his greatest mistakes, could not be undone. Could not be corrected. His single greatest regret would haunt him forever. That’s what he had always believed. And now suddenly it--he was staring Arthur right in the face.
Literally.
"Hey Artie, uh...Arthur." Alfred sounded unsure of what to say. Arthur wasn't used to that.
But he was talking to him! This was his chance. To tell him, just as he'd earlier resolved to do. To see if. Just perhaps...
Arthur opened his mouth to respond.
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Could it really be that easy?
Did he deserve this?
Was it fair to him? To Alfred?
Arthur still didn't know.
So he ran.
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Alfred blinked as he found himself alone in the kitchen. Arther hadn't said a word to him. Just faded away.
He stared at the place where the captain had been standing only moments before, not sure why. Maybe trying to will him back? If that was the case, it wasn't working.
Despite getting up hours early, Alfred was still almost late for work.
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Arthur didn't reappear until Alfred had left for Brikinson. (Although he had almost said something, worried at how the boy had stood there, staring at that one spot for so long.) The walls were his only audience as he hung his head and cursed himself in silence.
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Arthur had just disappeared on him. Again.
Alfred arrived at work feeling out of sorts. He couldn't concentrate on anything, what with nonstop thoughts of Arthur filling his mind. Not to mention his lack of proper sleep the night before had caught up with him. He even ended up switching a batch of essays from one class with that of another; not too difficult to believe considering his mental state. The real kicker was that despite this, he still somehow managed to pass half of them back before one of his students was finally able to get his attention and inform him of his error.
He was too tired to even act embarrassed.
"Oh, thank you." he whispered to no one in particular as he closed his office door behind him. Alfred practically fell into his chair and let his head hit the top of the desk, lacking the energy to hold it up anymore. Wednesdays were surely a gift from God. His next class wasn't for three hours.
A magnet was attached to a filing cabinet in the corner of the room; a gift from Matt. On it a tiny, adorable polar bear cub sat rolled in a ball, eyes closed and obviously at peace. The magnet had been stuck on at an off-angle, but the phrase beneath the image was still easy to read for anyone who glanced at it.
'But first, a cozy nap'
Alfred was going to take Mr. Polar Bear up on that.
A light knock came at the door.
...Or not.
The noise that escaped Alfred's throat was something between a groan and a whine. Maybe if he just ignored the person on the other side of the door they'd go away?
...No. He couldn't do that. Alfred always made time for his students, no matter how busy or otherwise occupied he was. With some reluctance, he placed a hand down on either side of his face and slowly pushed himself back up into a sitting position. He ran his fingers quickly through his hair and straightened out his glasses before turning he head towards the door. "Come on in." he called, pleased with himself that his voice came out bright and clear.
It wasn't a student who opened the door.
While it had been a long time since they last spoken face to face, Alfred instantly recognized him. The man had a look all his own, he had to admit. Why he was here though, that he could only guess. Talk about good timing.
Or bad timing. Alfred was still deciding on that one.
"I hope you will forgive me coming by unannounced." Francis Bonnefoy said with a friendly smile.
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Alfred had offered his guest a seat once he saw who it was. He couldn't imagine the man had any business with the university, but he also didn't think Francis would have come out all this way for nothing but a quick hello.
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He was the first to speak. "You know, I think I'm actually glad you dropped by."
"Oh?" The Frenchman cocked his head, the expression on his face a mix between curiosity and amusement. "You only think?" he asked with a playful look.
"Yeah, I was wondering if I could ask you something. About a situation I'm in that I'm not sure how to fix."
"I’m not sure why you would come to me, but I’m always happy to offer advice.” Francis grinned, “Perhaps you are having relationship troubles? That is my specialty.”
Alfred blushed, "No. Uh, no. Nothing like that.” He took a breath. “It's about Arthur Kirkland." He answered, glad his answer came out strong and sure. Alfred wouldn't let the other deny it this time. He wasn't sure how, but the last time they had spoken--had it really been almost a year ago?--Francis had known about Arthur. Now Alfred wanted to see if he knew Arthur. And could give him advice on how to get his friend talking again. Or something.
The other was silent for a long moment. Then finally, "How strange, and here I was coming to talk with you about just the same person." There was a soft smile on his face, an almost relieved expression. "So you've managed to see him then?"
"Yeah. It took a little while, but I found out what was going on. Why everyone seemed so weirded out about me living in his house."
Francis nodded, "But it's understandable, non? Considering the ah...unique situation. It's not exactly the kind of thing one runs into every day."
"You can say that again." Alfred agreed, "But why didn't you warn me ahead of time; keep it some big secret? It was a bit of a shock when I did find out. Even though everything worked out in the end." Or had been working out at least, he thought sadly.
Francis fixed him with a look that said he already knew the answer. "Would you have agreed to buy the house from me had you known?"
Alfred thought it over. He would have laughed if Francis had told him something as (then) unbelievable as the mansion was haunted, that was for sure. But that wouldn't have changed the fact that it had been a great deal. So he would have definitely overlooked such a statement! No way would he have let a little comment like that get to him or sway his mind. So what that ghosts (besides Arthur...most of the time) made him a little nervous? And he'd be living by himself in the middle of no where. He was sure he'd have still taken the house. He was sure...
He didn't realize how long he'd been sitting there contemplating his answer until his companion broke the silence. There was a sad smile on his face, not dissimilar from the one he wore during their conversation the day Alfred had moved into the mansion. "See what I mean?"
"Well....I would have had to think about it a little more." Alfred finally conceded.
Francis nodded, letting the topic drop. "In any case," he continued, "I cannot tell you how relieved I am to hear that you have accepted Arthur into your life, despite my little ah, deception. Like it or not, Monsieur Jones, the person now responsible for Arthur is you. The Kirkland mansion, and more than that I believe, if you have taken to him the way it sounds like you have, tie you together. You are the reason he can...exist as he is right now. I hope you have come to realize this."
"I wouldn't say all that." Alfred said, surprised to see the Frenchman's eyes take on a sudden intensity. Responsible for Artie? The Captain was more than capable of taking care of himself. After all, he didn't seem to need Alfred's help in getting around before, did he? So what did Francis mean he was the reason Arthur could exist? He wasn't doing anything special. In fact..."In fact, I think I might have made things worse for him." he admitted.
"Worse for him?"
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For the first time that Alfred had seen, Francis looked openly distraught. "I know that it might be hard for you, but...if you understood just what your being there, in that house, means for Arthur. If you understood at all the reason why I sold you that home at such a price, you would never be saying such things. I had hoped..."
His accent had gotten heavy, if he got any more emotional Alfred wouldn't have been surprised if Francis switched completely into French. His companion took a few deep breaths that looked to calm him slightly.
"My apologies. It's simply...perhaps, in fact I know for most people, having to deal with Arthur would seem a burden. But it's not. He's not. You're correct. I do know much about Arthur, more than he's aware of I'm sure. So believe me when I say that he needs someone like you, Monsieur Jones. In fact, if I may be so bold as to say, I feel like you're just what he needs. You were meant to be here." He continued, "I'm sure that sounds strange, and more than a little dramatic, but I believe in trusting my heart on matters such as these. And considering we are talking about Arthur Kirkland, perhaps those gut feelings--the things we cannot necessarily touch or see--are the best sources of advice we can listen to."
Alfred felt a little overwhelmed at the conviction with which Francis spoke. It was a little intimidating, even for someone as confident as him, to hear how much faith the other appeared to have in his being what Arthur needed, whatever that entailed exactly.
"And with that being said, I'm afraid I must be going now." Francis pushed himself up out of his seat, "I apologize for cutting our conversation short. I saw it as going much differently in my head. Nevertheless, thank you for taking the time to see me, Monsieur Jones."
"Huh? But wait--" Alfred still had some more things to ask him. And he'd never even gotten the chance to explain the fight he and Arthur'd had last night and get advice on dealing with that.
"Believe me." the Frenchman interjected, giving him a kind smile, unlike the flirtatious looks Alfred remembered often receiving from the man, "You are doing just fine. It's good to see Arthur has found himself in such good hands."
But he isn't! Alfred almost shouted. I messed things up. You're saying I'm supposed to be helping Arthur? All I did last night was hurt him.
Unaware of his inner turmoil, Francis gave him one last customary wink before he left.
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Alfred came home even more of a mess than he'd been when he left, if that was possible. He couldn't get Francis' visit out of his mind. Lili, Ivan, Francis, all he got from everyone he spoke to was more questions.
He was helping Arthur? Perhaps not too long ago, such a statement might have made him happy. Now he just felt nervous and unsure at such an idea.
Because whatever he was supposed to be doing, he was doing it wrong. If Francis had stayed to hear just what kind of state he and his ghostly housemate were in right now, he would never have said that Alfred was what Arthur needed.
Arthur, who was standing there to greet him when he opened the door and walked inside.
"Alfred."
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Maybe the Frenchman was just messing with him when he'd told Alfred all that stuff, but he'd looked so confident in what he had been saying.
While Alfred wasn't sure if what he said next was going to solve anything, or just make it worse.
So he ran.
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He had just gotten out the other's name when Alfred turned and made a bee-line back for the door.
...
Was that it then? Had his actions this morning been the last straw? Alfred had been willing to make the attempt to talk to him earlier, but now...perhaps he'd just lost his final chance. It might be over.
There was only one problem with pursuing that line of thought. Arthur Kirkland didn't surrender, no matter how daunting the situation before him.
And not with something as important as this. As him. Arthur had lost him once. He may have lost him again already (if he had ever had him to lose in this life), but he would know for sure before letting either of them just give up.
He forced the name out, before he could second guess himself again. "Frederick."
Arthur had never called him that. Why would he? It wasn't his name. But Alfred responded to it nonetheless, halting in his movement to the door and turning without even knowing why. His body found the call familiar, even if his mind didn't.
"I don't know how I didn't see it immediately, but it's you. I'm sure of it now. Been sure of it for some time really." There was nothing but complete certainty in Arthur's tone. A sort of calm had taken him over, as if he'd made a decision of some sort.
Alfred wished he could have had half that certainty right then. "Uh...yes?"
"Alfred, there's something I need to tell you. Do you have a moment?"
Slowly, Alfred found himself nodding.
Arthur smiled. It was small, and kind of sad, but it made him look amazing. Different from all the smirks, or the teasing upward turns of the mouth Alfred was more familiar with. "Last night...you asked me something." And Alfred knew just what he was referring to. The fight. His last words.
"So what happened to you, Arthur? That makes you cry during storms, that made you give up the one thing you said you did nothing but love?"
"I need to give you a proper answer to your question."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Get it together, boys! You can do it!
Oh wow this took a ridiculously long time to update. I am so sorry. I sort of wrote myself into a corner over the last few parts as far as how things needed to play out, and it took me a while to pull myself out of my dunce corner and figure out how to fix it. Hopefully, this part was as least kind of worth the wait. <3? I'm not sure how happy I am with how everyone ended up acting this part, but as I said, certain things needed to happen and it's (hopefully) going to be at least slightly smoother sailing from here on out.
Thanks so much to those of you still reading and sticking with me; please enjoy!
Also I was on the fence about Alfred's past self's name. But then one of my capchas was heydo frederick, one of the names I had been considering, and it was set. Oh capcha, you were a decision maker too and I never knew it.
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You have NO IDEA how much I need more of this. ;A;
This, this story right here, is UKUS/USUK perfection and there's pirates involved which is a huge kink of mine and the tension and everything is just beautiful and hnnnnnnnnngh. I hadn't ever heard of this fill before seeing this update and now it is going to be in my bookmarks.
Please excuse me while I continue to rant incomprehensibly about this fill.
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Hooray! It looks like things are about to be explained and misunderstandings will be cleared up! Go boys go! You can do it!
This update is amazing and you're amazing and I'm so glad you're back! :D
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Wow, so Francis knows that Alfred is not some random America, huh? I didn't expect that, I thought that he just wanted to get rid of an old haunted house.
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But it was worth the wait! This part was so good ;A; I actually liked that they both ran away at some points. They were both worried and didn't know what to say after all, so they did the first thing that came to their minds: run away.
Also, I'm glad that it was Arthur who asked Alfred if they could talk, and he even called him by his other name, I think that's like a huge step for him. Oh god, I can't wait for the next part!
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You have a knack for stopping stories where it gets interesting. That's a good skill. I'm eager to read more :D You're doing great so far, so please keep writing, and good luck with the next chapter~
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Revelations I: Ghost Ship
Lifetimes ago...
Captain Arthur Kirkland knew his ship inside and out. The Green Lady was a much a part of him as one of his arms or legs.
Which is why he was loathe to admit that they had a stowaway on board.
It was a common enough occurrence for other captains, or so he had heard. But Arthur was always aware enough of the goings-on aboard his vessel that in the few cases where someone had tried to sneak onto his ship, they had been found out and removed almost immediately. However, it was nearly a week now since they'd last left port, and signs were beginning to appear that he had an unknown passenger, previously overlooked.
First, the food stores seemed to be diminishing at a slightly more rapid rate than normal. The crew knew better than to try and sneak more than their share of food. Everyone suffered when such a thing occurred. His men had also reported hearing noises below deck, as if someone was moving about down there. It could just as easily be rats, but the sounds seemed concentrated to one particular area. And then just the previous evening, his lookout had sworn he had seen a dark shape moving below him in the shadows.
That had been what finally convinced him. His men were the finest crew to ever sail the seas--Arthur Kirkland would stand for no less--and were more than competent at whatever tasks they were assigned.
If his lookout had seen someone, then someone was there.
"Search the ship. I want whoever dared think he could slip by me found and brought here. Immediately." he ordered his crew, fixing them with a look that said he expected results.
The deck came alive as the assembled pirates moved to scour the vessel. Arthur had the utmost faith that the matter of their little uninvited guest would shortly be resolved.
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"Hey! Let me go!" Arthur turned at the sounds of shouting coming from behind him. He was just in time to see two of his men pull a struggling boy up onto deck. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed how tightly they seemed to be holding onto him, as well how many of his crew looked like they were suffering black eyes or some other type of bruising. Had he really managed to do all that before being subdued?
And unarmed too, from the looks of it. "So you're the person foolish enough to sneak aboard the ship of Captain Arthur Kirkland." he addressed his captive, the bored look on his face hiding the fact he was slightly impressed.
The boy had the audacity to shrug, despite the situation he'd found himself in. "Ship is a ship. I was just looking for a way to anywhere but there." He must have been referring to their last port. It had been poor, unsavory place, even by pirates' standards (certainly by Arthur's).
"For that statement alone I should have you thrown overboard." Arthur said, dead serious. "I do not take insults to my Lady lightly. She is hardly any ship." He eyed the boy, making sure he had his complete attention. "What is your name?"
The boy matched his gaze in silence before answering. "Frederick ------." More silence. "So are you going to throw me over now?"
"Do you want me to, Mr. -----?" Arthur asked, curious at how accepting the boy was of his apparent fate. "Most people are not in such a hurry for that to happen."
"I'm not going to beg, if that's what you mean." was Frederick's answer, turning away.
Arthur found himself nodding in approval at the response. "It was not. But yes, I make it a rule to have any stowaways found thrown overboard upon discovery." A pause to see Frederick's reaction. "However..." He let the word hang in the air.
Frederick's head turned back towards him. Arthur in turn walked forward until they were standing face to face. He had never done anything like this before, but there was something about this boy...His attitude maybe. Or perhaps his obvious strength and skill that could be put to Arthur's use...
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Frederick took his hand.
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Despite the serious (and violent, in his crew's case) nature of their initial meeting, Frederick ----- turned out to be a friendly, good-matured individual. It was a bit of an unconventional attitude for a pirate, but it did not stop him from being just as good and hard-working a sailor as Arthur had guessed he would be, and so he made no criticisms. In all honesty, the crew--to varying degrees--loved him, and treated him with a kind of gruff affection similar to what they might give a younger brother.
Even Arthur, who held a reputation for being ruthless and cold-hearted, could not help but be entertained at the boy's antics. The atmosphere on the Green Lady had changed.
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"Don't you have something you need to be doing, Mr. -----?" Arthur came up behind Frederick, who was standing near the prow of the ship, looking out into the sea in front of him. The sun was beginning to go down on the horizon, and the sky started to fill with color. The deck was bathed in a warm glow.
"Sorry Captain." Frederick turned, smiling. "It's such a beautiful sight, I couldn't help but stop to watch. I'll get back to work right away." And so he did.
Frederick hadn't shown a hint of fear or shame at being caught by his captain shirking his duty. Arthur was surprised when he realized he wasn't angry at that.
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"I think it looks foolish. But I suppose you may spend your share of our plunder however you like."
Frederick pouted at Arthur's opinion of his new coat. The captain couldn't imagine what the boy saw in it. It was cut too short to begin with (probably some atrocious new French style) and had the most useless-looking brown trim around the collar, which was not helped by the fact that the rest of the garment was a similar dull, dark color.
"You really don't think it suits me?"
"There will never be a time I would think something like that suited you."
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"Do you ever wish to leave?"
"Hm?" Frederick cocked his head in confusion, "What do you mean?"
"You have more than earned your keep for the week you stowed away. And we have stopped at countless ports since then. You don't have to stay with my crew. I won't force you." Arthur explained.
Frederick's face took on an unreadable expression as the words sunk in. "Do you want me to leave?" he finally asked. His voice was flat, like back when he had asked if he was going to be thrown overboard. How long ago was that now?
The truth was that of course Arthur didn't. The boy was a fine sailor, and one of the best crewmen he could have asked for, barring one major issue. He knew that he could probably have kept Frederick on for as long as he wanted, using the fact that he had spared his life against him. But he hadn't wanted it to be that way.
It had been nagging Arthur for some time now, wondering if Frederick was staying with him because he wished to, or just felt obligated to. It shouldn't have mattered, he was staying with Arthur it either case. But Arthur found that it did matter to him.
Although perhaps he could have articulated that sentiment a little better.
"Of course not." He walked past Frederick, looking out over the rail of the ship. The sun was beginning to set. "I was simply curious whether you actually wanted to be here. I am sure becoming a pirate was not your intention when you snuck aboard."
He became aware of movement behind him, and then Frederick was leaning on the rail by his side, looking into his eyes.
Don't worry. Those eyes said.
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