Paradox Lost: Part 12
I've seen like 4 pieces of fanart regarding this fic and I feel so loved! Pumping out chapters is easier now that I know short chapters let me release them faster. I should do that with my other fics from now on.
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Paradox Lost
~*~*~*~*~*~*
"No."
The answer came bluntly and tonelessly. Hershel tilted his head and set his arms akimbo, a frustrated look on his face as he stayed right where he was on Luke's bed.
"And why not?!" he demanded childishly, "It's holiday today! No school! I want to go visit Olivia for another puzzle and you just want to bum around in bed all day! A gentleman rises early to greet the day right! That's what you said, remember?!" Luke groaned, head stuffed under a pillow and one arm splayed on top to keep it there.
"Well, today, I'm not a gentleman. Today, I'm Luke and Luke says, stay in the fecking bed until this headache goes away." the teen growled, "Now bugger off and let me sleep." Hershel scowled and grabbed onto the blankets, tearing them away from him as fast as his hands could move, keeping them out of reach of Luke's wildly groping grasp. "What the-?! Fine! Take them! I can sleep without linens!" And Luke curled up tighter, gripping his pillow to keep it safe. Hershel crawled closer to him and positioned himself before the teen's back, frowning in consideration before deciding that Luke could take the lumps.
"Get up!" he began shouting, kicking his feet into Luke's back repeatedly, "Get up! Get up! Get up!"
"Ow, ow, ow! What the hell?!" Luke shot upright to escape the blows and twisted around in an effort to grab the boy, who rolled aside and laughed, "Get back here, you brat! What the devil's gotten into you?!" The teen half-crawled, half-wriggled after him, one eye twitching in irritation as he made a grab for the boy's ankle, only to have it jerked out of reach, Hershel winking and sticking out his tongue over his shoulder tauntingly. "Rrgh! When I get my hands on you, you're going to get it but good, you hear me?!" Luke growled, lunging for him. Hershel rolled aside again, dropping off the bed with a laugh and running around it to the other side, snatching up the blue newsboy's cap and plopping it onto his own head.
"Then come and get me!" he declared, dodging another lunge that had Luke crash halfway onto the floor, legs tangled in the sheets that remained on the bed. He took the opportunity to tug on his hair, dodged another grab attempt and raced out of the room in laughter. The teen steamed, red-faced, then yelled at the top of his lungs.
"Hershel Layton, I won't let you forget this day!"
--
Helena smiled over her cup of tea as Harold lifted his head with a huff. The sounds of shouting and footsteps thumping furiously on the second floor of the manor filled the air, and the maids and servants bustled about cheerfully, laughing each time they heard a heavy thump and Hershel's mad giggling that signaled another miss by Luke. Doors slammed open and closed as the chase moved back and forth between various rooms, then the thudding grew louder as Hershel took the rampage downstairs, scurrying quickly to stay ahead of his mentor's agile leaps down several steps, then tearing into the kitchen and causing a ruckus in there. Luke followed blindly after, a wide smile on his face even as he yelled all sorts of nonsensical threats.
The cooks lifted their plates and dishes, spinning around as the two of them raced through and around the center island before going back out. The head chef chased after them up to the end of the kitchen, waving a spoon and promising retribution during their lunch. Maids scattered like frightened hens, giggling and squealing happily as mentor and apprentice raced down a hall and into another room, chasing one another a few times in there, then darting back out to enter another and do it again.
"I don't think this is part of gentlemanly studies. Not from what I can recall of my own tutor." Harold finally grumped, standing up to head off for the museum. Helena only sipped at her tea before replying.
"They're playing and enjoying themselves. As much as Sir Luke touts himself to be an adult and a gentleman, he is still a boy at heart." she reminded and gazed into her tea, eyes shimmering with that eerie mystique Harold loved and feared, "A boy who has been hurt very deeply and is slowly beginning to heal."
Harold huffed and strode purposefully towards the door of the parlor, opening it and then standing by in waiting. Predictably, Hershel raced inside with a shriek of laughter, only to find himself snatched up by the collars of his jacket and shirt and dangling several feet off the floor. Luke raced in after him and found himself similarly snagged, his eyes wide with shock that such a thing could happen to him. Harold eyed them both with a mildly venomous glare.
"Are you quite finished?" he asked scathingly and both boys nodded slowly, staring at him fearfully, "Very good." He set Hershel down and he scampered for the sofa, hiding behind it. Releasing Luke sent the older boy running to join his apprentice in the search for safety. "I expect you two to be on your best behavior tonight." Harold added firmly, "The Historical Museum is holding a banquet in honor of a most generous benefactor who has made a sizable donation. We've been invited as required and I do not wish to have him and my colleagues think my son and his teacher act as though they were recently discovered ape-men!"
"Sorry, Father." Hershel murmured with a wince, "We were just having a spot of fun."
"My sincerest apologies, Sir Layton. I was caught up in the moment." Luke added, placing a hand on his apprentice's head, "I assure you that we will be perfect gentlemen by the time the banquet takes place." Harold gave him a steady look.
"See to it that such a miracle happens. This evening must go smoothly." he stressed and picked up his own top hat, placing it firmly on his head before leaving. As soon as he was gone, Luke snatched the cap from Hershel's head and smacked him lightly with it before placing it back on his own head.
"That was for running off with my favorite cap, pipsqueak." he remarked with a smirk, "You heard your father; let's get ready for tonight!" Hershel rubbed at his head and thrust a fist into the air with a cheer.
"Yes! Let's show him I can be a good gentleman!" he agreed and Helena laughed merrily as they rushed out of the room to prepare.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The day was a bustle of activity as Luke took Hershel back to the tailor's shop to mend his coat and hat from the activities of the past few days, what with dodging Don Paolo and racing through the manor. While there, he also had his own coat mended, opting to purchase replacement clothing for the rest of his wardrobe and plotting to toss his old clothes into the furnace. While they waited for the repairs, Luke collected several hats from the tailor's wares and set them before Hershel, explaining another puzzle to him. Various optical illusions later, the tailor returned their clothing in excellent condition, chuckling at the sight of them modeling top hats in front of the mirror.
After that was a trip to a shoe shine boy nearby, who offered a puzzle of his own upon hearing the two chatter about illusions and trick words.
"Big Ben there's a national landmark, right? You can make it disappear into thin air, you can!" the boy exclaimed brightly as he worked on Hershel's shoes, "But, you can only use two pennies to do it! So, little sir, how do you make Big Ben vanish with just two little pennies?" Hershel sat back and puzzled it over while Luke tipped his hat down over his eyes with a slight frown.
"I know the answer to this, but I also know I've heard this puzzle before. I just can't for the life of me remember where." he mumbled, "It wasn't from the Professor, that's for certain."
It took Hershel another minute to play with the logic in his head but he yelped at last and pointed in triumph.
"Ah! I get it! You put the pennies over your eyes! That will make everything disappear, including the Clock Tower!" he exclaimed and the shoe shiner laughed in response.
"Aye! That's it!" he declared and gestured to the shoes, "And look at that; all polished and nice in the time it took you to solve it!" Luke paid the boy as Hershel admired the shoes beside him, slipping in an additional silver coin for a tip. "Ah! Thank you kindly, gents! Cheers!" the boy exclaimed brightly, waving as he gathered up his kit and hurried on his way, eager to locate his next client from the lunch crowd.
The next stop for both mentor and apprentice was a local barber shop, as Hershel had made a convenient mess of his hair racing about with Luke's cap and didn't bother brushing when putting his own hat on. Hershel also pointed out, rather smugly since Luke seemed to be on the verge of abandoning him there, that he looked a bit fuzzy of face. The young man blinked, startled, before touching fingertips to his chin and upper lip. Sure enough, there was an odd 'fluffiness' that he hadn't noticed before.
"Good time to get a shave and a trim. Two bits for you!" the second barber in the shop remarked as the first worked on getting Hershel ready for his haircut. Sighing in resignation, Luke put down the money for a second client and seated himself down.
A glance between the two barbers and Luke found himself chuckling at the sight of one with scruffy hair and the other with a badly trimmed mustache. "Pardon, but would the scruffy gent work on the boy and the other work on me? My hair is fine as it is, I just need the shave." he remarked and the two men looked at each other before bursting into laughter at being found out. They swapped places and set to work; one with comb and scissors, the other with foam and blade. Luke flinched suddenly at the sight of the straight razor coming towards him and reared back slightly. "Ah! Warn me first!" Luke exclaimed as Hershel glanced over at him worriedly, "I don't like having blades pointed at my face!"
"Then you'll be having a difficult time shaving yourself later." his barber remarked dryly, "You want this done or not?" Luke sighed, gesturing for him to carry on as Hershel rolled his eyes and watched snips of his hair fall in fascination.
"All done! Ready to break a few hearts, gents?" the barber finally remarked, cleaning the last of the foam from Luke's face and letting him out of the chair, handing him a hot towel to press to his face for soothing his skin after the shave. The young man didn't answer right away, gaping as Hershel carefully set his hat back on his head and smiled up at him. That style... the Professor wore his hair in that same style every day. Hair slicked back and under control, save for a single rebellious lock that curled over his left temple that he always had to tuck into his hat to keep it out of his way; Luke had always thought it was dashing and had tried to emulate it himself one day, only to find it was an abysmal failure on his own head. Hence, he stuck with his own usual style.
Finally, Luke just smiled warmly and nodded.
"Believe me; many a heart will fall for that face. I can just about guarantee it." he chuckled and pressed his face into the towel, the perfect place to hide fresh tears.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
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Paradox Lost
~*~*~*~*~*~*
"No."
The answer came bluntly and tonelessly. Hershel tilted his head and set his arms akimbo, a frustrated look on his face as he stayed right where he was on Luke's bed.
"And why not?!" he demanded childishly, "It's holiday today! No school! I want to go visit Olivia for another puzzle and you just want to bum around in bed all day! A gentleman rises early to greet the day right! That's what you said, remember?!" Luke groaned, head stuffed under a pillow and one arm splayed on top to keep it there.
"Well, today, I'm not a gentleman. Today, I'm Luke and Luke says, stay in the fecking bed until this headache goes away." the teen growled, "Now bugger off and let me sleep." Hershel scowled and grabbed onto the blankets, tearing them away from him as fast as his hands could move, keeping them out of reach of Luke's wildly groping grasp. "What the-?! Fine! Take them! I can sleep without linens!" And Luke curled up tighter, gripping his pillow to keep it safe. Hershel crawled closer to him and positioned himself before the teen's back, frowning in consideration before deciding that Luke could take the lumps.
"Get up!" he began shouting, kicking his feet into Luke's back repeatedly, "Get up! Get up! Get up!"
"Ow, ow, ow! What the hell?!" Luke shot upright to escape the blows and twisted around in an effort to grab the boy, who rolled aside and laughed, "Get back here, you brat! What the devil's gotten into you?!" The teen half-crawled, half-wriggled after him, one eye twitching in irritation as he made a grab for the boy's ankle, only to have it jerked out of reach, Hershel winking and sticking out his tongue over his shoulder tauntingly. "Rrgh! When I get my hands on you, you're going to get it but good, you hear me?!" Luke growled, lunging for him. Hershel rolled aside again, dropping off the bed with a laugh and running around it to the other side, snatching up the blue newsboy's cap and plopping it onto his own head.
"Then come and get me!" he declared, dodging another lunge that had Luke crash halfway onto the floor, legs tangled in the sheets that remained on the bed. He took the opportunity to tug on his hair, dodged another grab attempt and raced out of the room in laughter. The teen steamed, red-faced, then yelled at the top of his lungs.
"Hershel Layton, I won't let you forget this day!"
--
Helena smiled over her cup of tea as Harold lifted his head with a huff. The sounds of shouting and footsteps thumping furiously on the second floor of the manor filled the air, and the maids and servants bustled about cheerfully, laughing each time they heard a heavy thump and Hershel's mad giggling that signaled another miss by Luke. Doors slammed open and closed as the chase moved back and forth between various rooms, then the thudding grew louder as Hershel took the rampage downstairs, scurrying quickly to stay ahead of his mentor's agile leaps down several steps, then tearing into the kitchen and causing a ruckus in there. Luke followed blindly after, a wide smile on his face even as he yelled all sorts of nonsensical threats.
The cooks lifted their plates and dishes, spinning around as the two of them raced through and around the center island before going back out. The head chef chased after them up to the end of the kitchen, waving a spoon and promising retribution during their lunch. Maids scattered like frightened hens, giggling and squealing happily as mentor and apprentice raced down a hall and into another room, chasing one another a few times in there, then darting back out to enter another and do it again.
"I don't think this is part of gentlemanly studies. Not from what I can recall of my own tutor." Harold finally grumped, standing up to head off for the museum. Helena only sipped at her tea before replying.
"They're playing and enjoying themselves. As much as Sir Luke touts himself to be an adult and a gentleman, he is still a boy at heart." she reminded and gazed into her tea, eyes shimmering with that eerie mystique Harold loved and feared, "A boy who has been hurt very deeply and is slowly beginning to heal."
Harold huffed and strode purposefully towards the door of the parlor, opening it and then standing by in waiting. Predictably, Hershel raced inside with a shriek of laughter, only to find himself snatched up by the collars of his jacket and shirt and dangling several feet off the floor. Luke raced in after him and found himself similarly snagged, his eyes wide with shock that such a thing could happen to him. Harold eyed them both with a mildly venomous glare.
"Are you quite finished?" he asked scathingly and both boys nodded slowly, staring at him fearfully, "Very good." He set Hershel down and he scampered for the sofa, hiding behind it. Releasing Luke sent the older boy running to join his apprentice in the search for safety. "I expect you two to be on your best behavior tonight." Harold added firmly, "The Historical Museum is holding a banquet in honor of a most generous benefactor who has made a sizable donation. We've been invited as required and I do not wish to have him and my colleagues think my son and his teacher act as though they were recently discovered ape-men!"
"Sorry, Father." Hershel murmured with a wince, "We were just having a spot of fun."
"My sincerest apologies, Sir Layton. I was caught up in the moment." Luke added, placing a hand on his apprentice's head, "I assure you that we will be perfect gentlemen by the time the banquet takes place." Harold gave him a steady look.
"See to it that such a miracle happens. This evening must go smoothly." he stressed and picked up his own top hat, placing it firmly on his head before leaving. As soon as he was gone, Luke snatched the cap from Hershel's head and smacked him lightly with it before placing it back on his own head.
"That was for running off with my favorite cap, pipsqueak." he remarked with a smirk, "You heard your father; let's get ready for tonight!" Hershel rubbed at his head and thrust a fist into the air with a cheer.
"Yes! Let's show him I can be a good gentleman!" he agreed and Helena laughed merrily as they rushed out of the room to prepare.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The day was a bustle of activity as Luke took Hershel back to the tailor's shop to mend his coat and hat from the activities of the past few days, what with dodging Don Paolo and racing through the manor. While there, he also had his own coat mended, opting to purchase replacement clothing for the rest of his wardrobe and plotting to toss his old clothes into the furnace. While they waited for the repairs, Luke collected several hats from the tailor's wares and set them before Hershel, explaining another puzzle to him. Various optical illusions later, the tailor returned their clothing in excellent condition, chuckling at the sight of them modeling top hats in front of the mirror.
After that was a trip to a shoe shine boy nearby, who offered a puzzle of his own upon hearing the two chatter about illusions and trick words.
"Big Ben there's a national landmark, right? You can make it disappear into thin air, you can!" the boy exclaimed brightly as he worked on Hershel's shoes, "But, you can only use two pennies to do it! So, little sir, how do you make Big Ben vanish with just two little pennies?" Hershel sat back and puzzled it over while Luke tipped his hat down over his eyes with a slight frown.
"I know the answer to this, but I also know I've heard this puzzle before. I just can't for the life of me remember where." he mumbled, "It wasn't from the Professor, that's for certain."
It took Hershel another minute to play with the logic in his head but he yelped at last and pointed in triumph.
"Ah! I get it! You put the pennies over your eyes! That will make everything disappear, including the Clock Tower!" he exclaimed and the shoe shiner laughed in response.
"Aye! That's it!" he declared and gestured to the shoes, "And look at that; all polished and nice in the time it took you to solve it!" Luke paid the boy as Hershel admired the shoes beside him, slipping in an additional silver coin for a tip. "Ah! Thank you kindly, gents! Cheers!" the boy exclaimed brightly, waving as he gathered up his kit and hurried on his way, eager to locate his next client from the lunch crowd.
The next stop for both mentor and apprentice was a local barber shop, as Hershel had made a convenient mess of his hair racing about with Luke's cap and didn't bother brushing when putting his own hat on. Hershel also pointed out, rather smugly since Luke seemed to be on the verge of abandoning him there, that he looked a bit fuzzy of face. The young man blinked, startled, before touching fingertips to his chin and upper lip. Sure enough, there was an odd 'fluffiness' that he hadn't noticed before.
"Good time to get a shave and a trim. Two bits for you!" the second barber in the shop remarked as the first worked on getting Hershel ready for his haircut. Sighing in resignation, Luke put down the money for a second client and seated himself down.
A glance between the two barbers and Luke found himself chuckling at the sight of one with scruffy hair and the other with a badly trimmed mustache. "Pardon, but would the scruffy gent work on the boy and the other work on me? My hair is fine as it is, I just need the shave." he remarked and the two men looked at each other before bursting into laughter at being found out. They swapped places and set to work; one with comb and scissors, the other with foam and blade. Luke flinched suddenly at the sight of the straight razor coming towards him and reared back slightly. "Ah! Warn me first!" Luke exclaimed as Hershel glanced over at him worriedly, "I don't like having blades pointed at my face!"
"Then you'll be having a difficult time shaving yourself later." his barber remarked dryly, "You want this done or not?" Luke sighed, gesturing for him to carry on as Hershel rolled his eyes and watched snips of his hair fall in fascination.
"All done! Ready to break a few hearts, gents?" the barber finally remarked, cleaning the last of the foam from Luke's face and letting him out of the chair, handing him a hot towel to press to his face for soothing his skin after the shave. The young man didn't answer right away, gaping as Hershel carefully set his hat back on his head and smiled up at him. That style... the Professor wore his hair in that same style every day. Hair slicked back and under control, save for a single rebellious lock that curled over his left temple that he always had to tuck into his hat to keep it out of his way; Luke had always thought it was dashing and had tried to emulate it himself one day, only to find it was an abysmal failure on his own head. Hence, he stuck with his own usual style.
Finally, Luke just smiled warmly and nodded.
"Believe me; many a heart will fall for that face. I can just about guarantee it." he chuckled and pressed his face into the towel, the perfect place to hide fresh tears.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*