What was he supposed to do with two seven year old boys? Supposedly Francis was to be responsible for one, but Arthur trusted him with nothing. He finally made it inside the doors of the manor, and he had expected it to reflect its stern exterior in regards to deportment, but it was not so. For as he soon learned, nothing that came in contact with Alfred F. Jones was able to maintain stern deportment.
Himself included.
Arthur stood still in the atrium, simply taking in his surroundings when there was yelling from up the grand stairs that rose before him, followed by a tremendous crash. Silence prevailed momentarily until the screaming rose anew.
Arthur took a step towards the stairs only to retreat when he saw a boy barreling down them at top speed. He ran wildly towards Arthur and away from the angry yelling that followed him down stairs. Arthur, for god only knows what reason, was moved to help him.
Arthur debated for an instant what to do, until his own experience from a childhood of trouble making guided him to a decision. He grabbed the boy (who didn’t hesitate for an instant in trusting him) by the hand and ran with him back outside the front door, which he closed quietly behind them, and then hurled them both over the side of the steps that ascended to the front door and into the bushes that stood along the front of the house.
They both breathed ragged for a moment until they start laughing, only to stop abruptly as they heard the front door being hauled open again.
“Master Alfred! You come back here!”
Arthur could see the maid looking for him, but she didn’t spot them, and retreated back inside.
Then he got a look at the boy, at Alfred. He was grinning like a scoundrel at their success and he glowed. He was dirty and scuffed up, a rare sight in children from a family of his status, but he was illuminant none the less.
“You must be Alfred then.” He said and Alfred grinned wider. “My name’s Arthur.” Alfred was grinning less and in favor of looking surprised.
“You’re Arthur?” he wasn’t sure why he sounded so surprised.
“Yes, who did you think I was? You were expecting me this afternoon, were you not?”
“Yeah, yeah, I just…” he trailed off still staring. Arthur stood and dusted off his knees.
“You weren’t what I was expecting.”Alfred finished.
“Oh, what were you expecting?”
Alfred looked down.
“Well, some mean old man who’d smell bad and cough a dreadful lot, but you’re the exact opposite!”
Was that a complement? Francis always told him he was a mean old man who smelled badly. Hm.
“Well, thank god I don’t smell.” Arthur said. “Now come on, let’s head back in.”
“That was a good hiding spot. Thanks for that.”
Arthur led him back into the house.
“Not at all. What on earth did you do? I heard something loud as I came in.”
“Oh, that was just the book self.”
“Oh.” was all that Arthur could manage to respond. Because it was ‘just the bookshelf’ with Alfred whereas with most other people he was fairly sure that was a bigger deal.
After Arthur managed to get them back inside, they were greeted by the house keeper, man servant and another little boy, very closely resembling Alfred, who was cleaner and dressed in mourning.
Re: Games of Pretension- 2/?
anonymous
October 22 2011, 17:26:42 UTC
The house keeper strode forward to grab Alfred, but he hid behind Arthur who shielded him. She hadn’t seemed to realize that Arthur was there, or who he was, until Alfred hid behind him and when she noticed, she quickly curtsied.
“Oh sir, begging your pardon sir. We hadn’t realized you had arrived.” The other little boy, presumably Mathew, stared at him curiously then looked at Alfred who was peeping out from behind him. Alfred pulled his villainous grin again, and Mathew returned it with a milder, less devious one. Arthur had a feeling like there was some communication of importance in their faces.
The house keeper was still trying to apologize for god only knew what but Arthur wasn’t hearing her. He was looking at the boys, trying to watch them and understand them. He already knew Alfred was something of a devil, but if that was the case, looking at Mathew he suspected that Alfred was the evil twin.
At any rate, it was time to see to all these affairs. He had a house to sort out. He wanted to review the staff, take a look at the accounts, and make sure that all was in working order, the boys had been left with care takers, tutors and the like, and it now Arthur’s responsibility to make sure all those people were competent.
After sending the boys to their room, the house keeper briefed him on the state of affairs in the house. Alfred had become unruly and wild and Mathew a silent recluse following their mother’s death. Alfred’s behavior was a ghastly nightmare to deal with, and Mathew’s crying and moping was almost as unmanageable.
“If I might speak out of my place sir, I would ask you to be kind to them. They won’t listen to me, but they seem taken with you.” The house keeper said quietly as she led him down one of the long halls, showing him around the house.
He was somewhat flattered by what she said, and much too flattered to take offense of her telling him what to do. He would take the advice he could get. He wasn’t quite accustomed to being needed, not as importantly as these boys needed him.
Next he needed to speak to the boys. They were in the big bedroom they shared upstairs, playing with toy soldiers. Or rather, Mathew seemed to be quietly moving them around while Alfred was busy trying to break things. He knocked quietly before entering, and they beckoned him in. He sat among the discarded soldiers strewn about the floor between them.
Games of Pretension- 5/?
anonymous
October 31 2011, 05:14:52 UTC
Also, when I do things really wrong, please be patient with me. I am new at this, and I keep making stupid mistakes. Sorry about that...
---
He visited the boys whenever he had the chance, which was more so in the off of the high social season, when his attentions were less sought after in London. When such was the case, the country was his regular refuge. Even so it had been almost a year since he had first come to know that grand dark manor house and the brightness it held within it.
His carriage bumped down the long tree lined gravel drive. When it stopped in front of the grand stone steps, Arthur sighed. The journey here had been entirely too long.
Suddenly, the huge wooden front doors swung open, emitting a boy, who flew down those stairs and towards him.
“Arthur!” he yelled as he collided with him. Arthur had to take a step back to keep his balance.
“My God, Alfred, you’ll knock me over! And my God child, you must have grown a foot!”
Alfred pulled away from his hug to look at him with shinning eyes.
“I’m so glad you’re here Arthur!” and Arthur softened.
“I promised I would come, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but I couldn’t have waited a moment longer. I was sitting in the window seat forever, and it was bloody hard!”
“Alfred!” he said sternly and he knew he looked properly outraged.
“Wherever did you hear such a perfectly nasty word? I ought to box your ears!”
Alfred just grinned wickedly.
“But you won’t.” he stated.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because you love me too much!” but he still danced out of Arthur’s reach.
That mischievous little pest, where’d he learnt that sort of thing? Arthur decided Francis was to be blamed, and that he would speak with him harshly at their next meeting.
“You’re a cheeky little villain, you know that?” Alfred just grinned.
“Don’t let me hear you say that word again, understand?”
He nodded meekly, which Arthur would except for now. They went up into the house, and Alfred saw Arthur’s things to his room. Arthur would only be able to stay for two weeks at the most, but it was better than nothing.
Games of Pretension- 7/?
anonymous
November 21 2011, 13:32:03 UTC
He had not been able to make a trip to the country for some months one year, when the boys had been thirteen years old. It had been a spectacularly dramatic season, and his mother had encountered a spot of money trouble, and he had been entirely preoccupied. He knew Francis had had a better time of it, and he had written Arthur regularly on the state of affairs at the manor and with the boys. Satisfied that Francis was taking care to what needed to seen to, he had allowed himself to focus on his life in the city.
By the time that he next time he found occasion to visit them, they were fourteen and much changed. He knew children would arrive at a stage in their growing up where the changes became quickly noticeable, but he never thought it would happen so quickly…
When he has first arrived at the house, he found the two of them reading in the sitting room. He had needed to ask a maid where he might find them, since for the first time since he had started coming here their noise didn’t give away their location immediately.
The room was dim since the day was heavily overcast and the lamps were lit.
His eyes took them in immediately, going to Alfred before anything else. He wore spectacles, which were new to him, and somehow he was barely recognizable to Arthur as his little boy. No, somehow he was suddenly recognizable as something as something else entirely. Oh-
Arthur quickly looked at Mathew also. He too was much changed and also wearing eye glasses but it didn’t bear the same profound effect on Arthur. Alfred looked like a young man, not a child. He looked like something so perfectly- Arthur had to stop himself.
He pushed the door open a little more loudly and they both looked up. Alfred seemed like he was on the verge of exploding. He tossed his book on the couch where he had been sitting and went to Arthur. He looked so adult that Arthur almost expected him to hold out a hand to be shaken, but he jumped on Arthur, as always. Well, he could only be expected to change so much, and quite frankly, this was something Arthur wasn’t looking forward to having that change.
Re: Games of Pretension- 2/?
anonymous
October 22 2011, 17:27:18 UTC
Before he could speak, Alfred asserted himself.
“How come you’ve become our guardian anyway? How are you even related to us?”
“I asked myself the same thing.” He muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing. I’m your guardian because your mother’s husband was my father.” he explained. Both of the boys darkened and bit and recoiled.
“You’re related to him?” Alfred looked suspicious.
Arthur couldn’t help chuckling cynically.
“Oh, don’t misunderstand. He’s never had anything to do with me. Bedding my mother was the extent of his involvement.”
“Oh, well he left us too.” Mathew stated bitterly. Just about the only thing he had said since Arthur had met him.
“I’m sorry, both of you. I know I’m not much, but I shall do my utmost to take care of you.”
Alfred nodded as if that settled it.
“So you’ll be living here as our new mother then?” he asked.
Arthur spluttered.
“I- what- no, no, I shan’t be your new mother Alfred, please, I am simply your guardian, and I am a busy man, so I shall come and go as I can. There are plenty of people here who shall look after you in my absence.”
“Oh.” Was all Alfred said, looking mildly disappointed.
Arthur sighed. He just wanted to this in such a way as that the boys might grow up how their mother hopefully intended, as fine young men.
“Well, come along then you two, get cleaned up and we’ll take our dinner in the garden, shall we? It’s a lovely evening.” Arthur said, standing up.
“Dinner outside?”Alfred asked excitedly, leaping from where he had sat.
“Only if you wash up, now come along. Mathew, I daresay you’re clean enough, unlike some other heathens I know. Alfred, you’re to wash your face and hands, and change out of those clothes and be down stairs in 10 minutes.” Arthur hoped that by simply issuing commands like he totally expected them to be followed, as well as the bribery of dinner in the garden, he might be obeyed.
After Arthur closed the door behind him, Alfred turned to Mathew, ecstatic.
“Mathew, he’s going to be the greatest, I can just tell!”
---
Fifteen minutes later, when Alfred came barreling out onto the terrace scrubbed pink and in clean clothes, even if they were somewhat haphazardly donned, Arthur nodded curtly in satisfaction. He also felt a smug satisfaction impressed look on the housekeeper’s face.
Arthur Kirkland ran a tight ship, and there would be no unwashed ruffians under a roof he was left in charge of, grieving or no.
Re: Games of Pretension- 3a/?
anonymous
October 23 2011, 21:50:21 UTC
So here he was, with a seven year old ward and huge estate and property to be managed. He’d have his hands properly full. But that was selfish. It was Mathew and Alfred’s life as well as his own. And from then on, Arthur took his duty as their worldly defender very seriously. Regardless of the fact that he supposedly shared the responsibility with Francis, Arthur still looked after the business for both of them. Francis was really on a guardian in that he sometimes made visits and brought presents. Regardless, legally he was in charge of Mathew.
Because the estate had come with their inheritance, and it stated in their mother’s will that they should remain there, Arthur allowed for Alfred to continue on in their country estate. Arthur, a young man raised in society, kept a house in London, and stayed with Alfred off season or when his responsibilities allowed. He much liked the idea of Alfred safe and tucked away in the country.
Francis carried on much the way he always had. He visited when he was able, but Arthur never felt sure that it was the same for him. Arthur and Francis were both bastard children of the same father who was something of a well know (and well enough liked) libertine, but he was important enough that it meant a title for both of them, since his mother was well off enough as well.
Their whole family was really quite scandalous, and by London’s society’s standards, delightfully so. There was always something to be said, and Francis didn’t help. His mother was French, and that always added to the conversation.
People would always gossip, especially about a family as infamous and riddled with illegitimate children as theirs.
People spoke of Francis because he bedded every woman he could persuade to get within ten feet of it, just like his father, and people spoke of Arthur because he never bedded any women and was nothing like his father. Arthur had to protect Alfred from it. It was too cruel for his tender little heart to bear. So for his childhood, he was kept safe in the country. It was one of the things both he and Francis had actually agreed about.
Re: Games of Pretension- 3b/?
anonymous
October 23 2011, 21:54:16 UTC
He visited the boys whenever he had the chance, which was more so in the off of the high social season, when his attentions were less sought after in London. When such was the case, the country was his regular refuge. Even so it had been almost a year since he had first come to know that grand dark manor house and the brightness it held within it.
His carriage bumped down the long tree lined gravel drive. When it stopped in front of the grand stone steps, Arthur sighed. The journey here had been entirely too long.
Suddenly, the huge wooden front doors swung open, emitting a boy, who flew down those stairs and towards him.
“Arthur!” he yelled as he collided with him. Arthur had to take a step back to keep his balance.
“My God, Alfred, you’ll knock me over! And my God child, you must have grown a foot!”
Alfred pulled away from his hug to look at him with shinning eyes.
“I’m so glad you’re here Arthur!” and Arthur softened.
“I promised I would come, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but I couldn’t have waited a moment longer. I was sitting in the window seat forever, and it was bloody hard!”
“Alfred!” he said sternly and he knew he looked properly outraged. “Wherever did you hear such a perfectly nasty word? I ought to box your ears!”
Alfred just grinned wickedly.
“But you won’t.” he stated.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because you love me too much!” but he still danced out of Arthur’s reach.
That mischievous little pest, where’d he learnt that sort of thing? Arthur decided Francis was to be blamed, and that he would speak with him harshly at their next meeting.
“You’re a cheeky little villain, you know that?” Alfred just grinned “Don’t let me hear you say that word again, understand?”
He nodded meekly, which Arthur would except for now. They went up into the house, and Alfred saw Arthur’s things to his room. Arthur would only be able to stay for two weeks at the most, but it was better than nothing.
a/n: I hope this part doesn't seem to fragmented, but I didn't want to drag it out and bore you all... I will keep it coming as best I can.
Re: Games of Pretension- 4/?
anonymous
October 31 2011, 05:10:48 UTC
Hi guys, I will try and keep these coming in a timely fashion...
---
So here he was, with a seven year old ward and huge estate and property to be managed. He’d have his hands properly full. But that was selfish. It was Mathew and Alfred’s life as well as his own. And from then on, Arthur took his duty as their worldly defender very seriously. Regardless of the fact that he supposedly shared the responsibility with Francis, Arthur still looked after the business for both of them. Francis was really on a guardian in that he sometimes made visits and brought presents. Regardless, legally he was in charge of Mathew.
Because the estate had come with their inheritance, and it stated in their mother’s will that they should remain there, Arthur allowed for Alfred to continue on in their country estate. Arthur, a young man raised in society, kept a house in London, and stayed with Alfred off season or when his responsibilities allowed. He much liked the idea of Alfred safe and tucked away in the country.
Francis carried on much the way he always had. He visited when he was able, but Arthur never felt sure that it was the same for him. Arthur and Francis were both bastard children of the same father who was something of a well know (and well enough liked) libertine, but he was important enough that it meant a title for both of them, since his mother was well off enough as well.
Their whole family was really quite scandalous, and by London’s society’s standards, delightfully so. There was always something to be said, and Francis didn’t help. His mother was French, and that always added to the conversation.
People would always gossip, especially about a family as infamous and riddled with illegitimate children as theirs.
People spoke of Francis because he bedded every woman he could persuade to get within ten feet of it, just like his father, and people spoke of Arthur because he never bedded any women and was nothing like his father. Arthur had to protect Alfred from it. It was too cruel for his tender little heart to bear. So for his childhood, he was kept safe in the country. It was one of the things both he and Francis had actually agreed about.
Games of Pretension- 6/?
anonymous
November 21 2011, 13:29:58 UTC
Sorry this took me so long. And that these are in a stupid order. I'm just gunna... okay. Here's more.
Arthur had struggled with many things in his own adolescence, which is not unusual, but he always felt his own secrets were perhaps darker. There were many things that Arthur didn’t care to examine about himself; the way his hair never laid flat, the way he acted once he’d had a bit to drink, his temper… the kind of people that managed to turn his head when he was walking down the street.
He had known this about himself for a long time. It wasn’t that he’d never been attracted to girls; it was just that that- well. He didn’t really like to think on it overly much.
It was not something people spoke of, and never in front of him, but he knew people wondered at his being such a gentleman, and at such an age and not having any prospects for marriage. He simply couldn’t stand it. As much as he tried to appease his mother, he did not care for the girls he met, not one.
Not least of all when he had the duties he did. How could he think of starting a family, even if he could swallow how unappealing the whole thing sounded to him, when his thoughts were immediately drawn to where he would rather be. How could he take up new obligations when he had his current ones outstanding?
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/18772.html?thread=84482132#t84482132
What was he supposed to do with two seven year old boys? Supposedly Francis was to be responsible for one, but Arthur trusted him with nothing.
He finally made it inside the doors of the manor, and he had expected it to reflect its stern exterior in regards to deportment, but it was not so. For as he soon learned, nothing that came in contact with Alfred F. Jones was able to maintain stern deportment.
Himself included.
Arthur stood still in the atrium, simply taking in his surroundings when there was yelling from up the grand stairs that rose before him, followed by a tremendous crash. Silence prevailed momentarily until the screaming rose anew.
Arthur took a step towards the stairs only to retreat when he saw a boy barreling down them at top speed. He ran wildly towards Arthur and away from the angry yelling that followed him down stairs. Arthur, for god only knows what reason, was moved to help him.
Arthur debated for an instant what to do, until his own experience from a childhood of trouble making guided him to a decision. He grabbed the boy (who didn’t hesitate for an instant in trusting him) by the hand and ran with him back outside the front door, which he closed quietly behind them, and then hurled them both over the side of the steps that ascended to the front door and into the bushes that stood along the front of the house.
They both breathed ragged for a moment until they start laughing, only to stop abruptly as they heard the front door being hauled open again.
“Master Alfred! You come back here!”
Arthur could see the maid looking for him, but she didn’t spot them, and retreated back inside.
Then he got a look at the boy, at Alfred. He was grinning like a scoundrel at their success and he glowed. He was dirty and scuffed up, a rare sight in children from a family of his status, but he was illuminant none the less.
“You must be Alfred then.” He said and Alfred grinned wider. “My name’s Arthur.”
Alfred was grinning less and in favor of looking surprised.
“You’re Arthur?” he wasn’t sure why he sounded so surprised.
“Yes, who did you think I was? You were expecting me this afternoon, were you not?”
“Yeah, yeah, I just…” he trailed off still staring. Arthur stood and dusted off his knees.
“You weren’t what I was expecting.”Alfred finished.
“Oh, what were you expecting?”
Alfred looked down.
“Well, some mean old man who’d smell bad and cough a dreadful lot, but you’re the exact opposite!”
Was that a complement? Francis always told him he was a mean old man who smelled badly. Hm.
“Well, thank god I don’t smell.” Arthur said. “Now come on, let’s head back in.”
“That was a good hiding spot. Thanks for that.”
Arthur led him back into the house.
“Not at all. What on earth did you do? I heard something loud as I came in.”
“Oh, that was just the book self.”
“Oh.” was all that Arthur could manage to respond. Because it was ‘just the bookshelf’ with Alfred whereas with most other people he was fairly sure that was a bigger deal.
After Arthur managed to get them back inside, they were greeted by the house keeper, man servant and another little boy, very closely resembling Alfred, who was cleaner and dressed in mourning.
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“Oh sir, begging your pardon sir. We hadn’t realized you had arrived.”
The other little boy, presumably Mathew, stared at him curiously then looked at Alfred who was peeping out from behind him. Alfred pulled his villainous grin again, and Mathew returned it with a milder, less devious one. Arthur had a feeling like there was some communication of importance in their faces.
The house keeper was still trying to apologize for god only knew what but Arthur wasn’t hearing her. He was looking at the boys, trying to watch them and understand them. He already knew Alfred was something of a devil, but if that was the case, looking at Mathew he suspected that Alfred was the evil twin.
At any rate, it was time to see to all these affairs. He had a house to sort out. He wanted to review the staff, take a look at the accounts, and make sure that all was in working order, the boys had been left with care takers, tutors and the like, and it now Arthur’s responsibility to make sure all those people were competent.
After sending the boys to their room, the house keeper briefed him on the state of affairs in the house. Alfred had become unruly and wild and Mathew a silent recluse following their mother’s death. Alfred’s behavior was a ghastly nightmare to deal with, and Mathew’s crying and moping was almost as unmanageable.
“If I might speak out of my place sir, I would ask you to be kind to them. They won’t listen to me, but they seem taken with you.” The house keeper said quietly as she led him down one of the long halls, showing him around the house.
He was somewhat flattered by what she said, and much too flattered to take offense of her telling him what to do. He would take the advice he could get. He wasn’t quite accustomed to being needed, not as importantly as these boys needed him.
Next he needed to speak to the boys. They were in the big bedroom they shared upstairs, playing with toy soldiers. Or rather, Mathew seemed to be quietly moving them around while Alfred was busy trying to break things. He knocked quietly before entering, and they beckoned him in. He sat among the discarded soldiers strewn about the floor between them.
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---
He visited the boys whenever he had the chance, which was more so in the off of the high social season, when his attentions were less sought after in London. When such was the case, the country was his regular refuge. Even so it had been almost a year since he had first come to know that grand dark manor house and the brightness it held within it.
His carriage bumped down the long tree lined gravel drive. When it stopped in front of the grand stone steps, Arthur sighed. The journey here had been entirely too long.
Suddenly, the huge wooden front doors swung open, emitting a boy, who flew down those stairs and towards him.
“Arthur!” he yelled as he collided with him. Arthur had to take a step back to keep his balance.
“My God, Alfred, you’ll knock me over! And my God child, you must have grown a foot!”
Alfred pulled away from his hug to look at him with shinning eyes.
“I’m so glad you’re here Arthur!” and Arthur softened.
“I promised I would come, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but I couldn’t have waited a moment longer. I was sitting in the window seat forever, and it was bloody hard!”
“Alfred!” he said sternly and he knew he looked properly outraged.
“Wherever did you hear such a perfectly nasty word? I ought to box your ears!”
Alfred just grinned wickedly.
“But you won’t.” he stated.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because you love me too much!” but he still danced out of Arthur’s reach.
That mischievous little pest, where’d he learnt that sort of thing? Arthur decided Francis was to be blamed, and that he would speak with him harshly at their next meeting.
“You’re a cheeky little villain, you know that?” Alfred just grinned.
“Don’t let me hear you say that word again, understand?”
He nodded meekly, which Arthur would except for now. They went up into the house, and Alfred saw Arthur’s things to his room. Arthur would only be able to stay for two weeks at the most, but it was better than nothing.
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By the time that he next time he found occasion to visit them, they were fourteen and much changed. He knew children would arrive at a stage in their growing up where the changes became quickly noticeable, but he never thought it would happen so quickly…
When he has first arrived at the house, he found the two of them reading in the sitting room. He had needed to ask a maid where he might find them, since for the first time since he had started coming here their noise didn’t give away their location immediately.
The room was dim since the day was heavily overcast and the lamps were lit.
His eyes took them in immediately, going to Alfred before anything else. He wore spectacles, which were new to him, and somehow he was barely recognizable to Arthur as his little boy. No, somehow he was suddenly recognizable as something as something else entirely. Oh-
Arthur quickly looked at Mathew also. He too was much changed and also wearing eye glasses but it didn’t bear the same profound effect on Arthur.
Alfred looked like a young man, not a child. He looked like something so perfectly- Arthur had to stop himself.
He pushed the door open a little more loudly and they both looked up. Alfred seemed like he was on the verge of exploding. He tossed his book on the couch where he had been sitting and went to Arthur. He looked so adult that Arthur almost expected him to hold out a hand to be shaken, but he jumped on Arthur, as always. Well, he could only be expected to change so much, and quite frankly, this was something Arthur wasn’t looking forward to having that change.
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“How come you’ve become our guardian anyway? How are you even related to us?”
“I asked myself the same thing.” He muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing. I’m your guardian because your mother’s husband was my father.” he explained. Both of the boys darkened and bit and recoiled.
“You’re related to him?” Alfred looked suspicious.
Arthur couldn’t help chuckling cynically.
“Oh, don’t misunderstand. He’s never had anything to do with me. Bedding my mother was the extent of his involvement.”
“Oh, well he left us too.” Mathew stated bitterly. Just about the only thing he had said since Arthur had met him.
“I’m sorry, both of you. I know I’m not much, but I shall do my utmost to take care of you.”
Alfred nodded as if that settled it.
“So you’ll be living here as our new mother then?” he asked.
Arthur spluttered.
“I- what- no, no, I shan’t be your new mother Alfred, please, I am simply your guardian, and I am a busy man, so I shall come and go as I can. There are plenty of people here who shall look after you in my absence.”
“Oh.” Was all Alfred said, looking mildly disappointed.
Arthur sighed. He just wanted to this in such a way as that the boys might grow up how their mother hopefully intended, as fine young men.
“Well, come along then you two, get cleaned up and we’ll take our dinner in the garden, shall we? It’s a lovely evening.” Arthur said, standing up.
“Dinner outside?”Alfred asked excitedly, leaping from where he had sat.
“Only if you wash up, now come along. Mathew, I daresay you’re clean enough, unlike some other heathens I know. Alfred, you’re to wash your face and hands, and change out of those clothes and be down stairs in 10 minutes.” Arthur hoped that by simply issuing commands like he totally expected them to be followed, as well as the bribery of dinner in the garden, he might be obeyed.
After Arthur closed the door behind him, Alfred turned to Mathew, ecstatic.
“Mathew, he’s going to be the greatest, I can just tell!”
---
Fifteen minutes later, when Alfred came barreling out onto the terrace scrubbed pink and in clean clothes, even if they were somewhat haphazardly donned, Arthur nodded curtly in satisfaction. He also felt a smug satisfaction impressed look on the housekeeper’s face.
Arthur Kirkland ran a tight ship, and there would be no unwashed ruffians under a roof he was left in charge of, grieving or no.
---
More to come guys! <3
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Loving it, a!, just loving it! Can't wait fir the more to come!
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Because the estate had come with their inheritance, and it stated in their mother’s will that they should remain there, Arthur allowed for Alfred to continue on in their country estate. Arthur, a young man raised in society, kept a house in London, and stayed with Alfred off season or when his responsibilities allowed. He much liked the idea of Alfred safe and tucked away in the country.
Francis carried on much the way he always had. He visited when he was able, but Arthur never felt sure that it was the same for him. Arthur and Francis were both bastard children of the same father who was something of a well know (and well enough liked) libertine, but he was important enough that it meant a title for both of them, since his mother was well off enough as well.
Their whole family was really quite scandalous, and by London’s society’s standards, delightfully so. There was always something to be said, and Francis didn’t help. His mother was French, and that always added to the conversation.
People would always gossip, especially about a family as infamous and riddled with illegitimate children as theirs.
People spoke of Francis because he bedded every woman he could persuade to get within ten feet of it, just like his father, and people spoke of Arthur because he never bedded any women and was nothing like his father.
Arthur had to protect Alfred from it. It was too cruel for his tender little heart to bear. So for his childhood, he was kept safe in the country. It was one of the things both he and Francis had actually agreed about.
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His carriage bumped down the long tree lined gravel drive. When it stopped in front of the grand stone steps, Arthur sighed. The journey here had been entirely too long.
Suddenly, the huge wooden front doors swung open, emitting a boy, who flew down those stairs and towards him.
“Arthur!” he yelled as he collided with him. Arthur had to take a step back to keep his balance.
“My God, Alfred, you’ll knock me over! And my God child, you must have grown a foot!”
Alfred pulled away from his hug to look at him with shinning eyes.
“I’m so glad you’re here Arthur!” and Arthur softened.
“I promised I would come, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but I couldn’t have waited a moment longer. I was sitting in the window seat forever, and it was bloody hard!”
“Alfred!” he said sternly and he knew he looked properly outraged. “Wherever did you hear such a perfectly nasty word? I ought to box your ears!”
Alfred just grinned wickedly.
“But you won’t.” he stated.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because you love me too much!” but he still danced out of Arthur’s reach.
That mischievous little pest, where’d he learnt that sort of thing? Arthur decided Francis was to be blamed, and that he would speak with him harshly at their next meeting.
“You’re a cheeky little villain, you know that?” Alfred just grinned “Don’t let me hear you say that word again, understand?”
He nodded meekly, which Arthur would except for now. They went up into the house, and Alfred saw Arthur’s things to his room. Arthur would only be able to stay for two weeks at the most, but it was better than nothing.
a/n: I hope this part doesn't seem to fragmented, but I didn't want to drag it out and bore you all... I will keep it coming as best I can.
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So here he was, with a seven year old ward and huge estate and property to be managed. He’d have his hands properly full. But that was selfish. It was Mathew and Alfred’s life as well as his own. And from then on, Arthur took his duty as their worldly defender very seriously. Regardless of the fact that he supposedly shared the responsibility with Francis, Arthur still looked after the business for both of them. Francis was really on a guardian in that he sometimes made visits and brought presents. Regardless, legally he was in charge of Mathew.
Because the estate had come with their inheritance, and it stated in their mother’s will that they should remain there, Arthur allowed for Alfred to continue on in their country estate. Arthur, a young man raised in society, kept a house in London, and stayed with Alfred off season or when his responsibilities allowed. He much liked the idea of Alfred safe and tucked away in the country.
Francis carried on much the way he always had. He visited when he was able, but Arthur never felt sure that it was the same for him. Arthur and Francis were both bastard children of the same father who was something of a well know (and well enough liked) libertine, but he was important enough that it meant a title for both of them, since his mother was well off enough as well.
Their whole family was really quite scandalous, and by London’s society’s standards, delightfully so. There was always something to be said, and Francis didn’t help. His mother was French, and that always added to the conversation.
People would always gossip, especially about a family as infamous and riddled with illegitimate children as theirs.
People spoke of Francis because he bedded every woman he could persuade to get within ten feet of it, just like his father, and people spoke of Arthur because he never bedded any women and was nothing like his father.
Arthur had to protect Alfred from it. It was too cruel for his tender little heart to bear. So for his childhood, he was kept safe in the country. It was one of the things both he and Francis had actually agreed about.
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Arthur had struggled with many things in his own adolescence, which is not unusual, but he always felt his own secrets were perhaps darker. There were many things that Arthur didn’t care to examine about himself; the way his hair never laid flat, the way he acted once he’d had a bit to drink, his temper… the kind of people that managed to turn his head when he was walking down the street.
He had known this about himself for a long time. It wasn’t that he’d never been attracted to girls; it was just that that- well. He didn’t really like to think on it overly much.
It was not something people spoke of, and never in front of him, but he knew people wondered at his being such a gentleman, and at such an age and not having any prospects for marriage. He simply couldn’t stand it. As much as he tried to appease his mother, he did not care for the girls he met, not one.
Not least of all when he had the duties he did. How could he think of starting a family, even if he could swallow how unappealing the whole thing sounded to him, when his thoughts were immediately drawn to where he would rather be. How could he take up new obligations when he had his current ones outstanding?
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