Fic: 6 Snippets of ALVH
Title: 6 Snippets of ALVH
Author: Ivybramble
Fandom: Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter
Summary: Thought I'd take a stab at attempting to get inside the heads of these characters for more than a run-on sentence (or seventy-five). All snippets are set in a movie-book verse mash-up that allows the historical characters to keep their historical death dates.
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no money. Lines in bold belong to the novel, the film, the Bard and/or history.
# 01 - Love
Pale fingers traced reverently over the leather cover before opening to the place he'd left his marker and Henry Sturges permitted himself the indulgence of a small but genuine smile. While the preternatural perversion that passed for his existence was not nearly as devoid of delight as Henry would wish it (the damnable, undiminishable ecstasy that was feeding being the worst), the works of William Shakespeare continued to afford him a pleasure that was purely human - and as such a source of gratification that Henry could allow himself without being reminded of the more monstrous aspects of his nature. He drew an unnecessary, anticipatory breath prior to beginning the piece the way its author had intended it to be read - aloud, "If you will not undo what you have done, that is,/kill him whom you have recovered, desire it not./Fare ye well at once: my bosom is full of kindness,/and I am yet so near the manners of my mother, that/ upon the least occasion more mine eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to the Count Orsino's court: farewell./The gentleness of all the gods..."
"Henry?"
Henry did Abraham the courtesy of pausing but kept his eyes fixed on the page. Because he was annoyed with the interruption. (Certainly not because of any lingering guilt over having put the boy's head into a bar hard enough it was a wonder his nose wasn't broken.) Uncomfortable silence set in as it became apparent that Abraham had no intention of continuing without some sort of verbal acknowledgment. "Yes?"
"I am sorry Henry. About earlier. I did promise and...and I can do better. I won't disappoint you again."
Henry abruptly found himself drowning in the earnest, grey eyes that he'd had no intention of meeting seconds before. The regret, sincerity, and above all warmth of the apology, undeserved as it was, was more than he could endure. (He hadn't, as it happened, been disappointed. He'd been frightened by the boy's suicidal rashness. And the discovery that he could still form attachments, after such a pitifully short acquaintance, when he'd sworn off them entirely had made him furious.) "You're forgiven. And...you weren't the only one at fault Abraham. You must know it...it wasn't my intention to...be so rough."
"We'll both do better next time," Abraham amended, relieved smile bright enough to render all the lamps in the room superfluous. "What was that were you reading? When I came in?"
Henry could feel the corners of his mouth edging upward again. "One of Shakespeare's comedies - Twelfth Night."
"I...would it be a terrible imposition if I were to..."
Henry patted the empty cushion next to him in invitation before he could think better of it. (Which required him to ignore the smarmy voice of his sire sing-songing in the darkest corner of his mind, 'No friends or family Henry. You remember what happens.') "You're welcome to stay Abraham. If that's what you'd like."
"I'd like that very much Henry. Thank you." The smile was shyer, but no less warm.
Henry gave his protege a moment to settle comfortably before he resumed from where he'd broken off, "The gentleness of all the gods go with thee!/I have many enemies in Orsino's court,/Else would I very shortly see thee there./But, come what may, I do adore thee so,/That danger shall seem sport, and I will go."
# 02 - Lonely
Upon reflection his "You will forgive my saying so, but I have learned that 'credit' is a French word meaning 'I shall never pay you,'" left his mouth a good deal more curtly than Joshua had intended.
And though it had everything to do with the fact that he'd been cheated by his own damned associate and nothing to do with the man currently in front of him...judging by the hint of steel that crept into the traveler's reply it hadn't passed unnoticed, "I square my debts."
Joshua wrapped his hand around his recovered property as a ward against further venting of his frustration on an undeserving party and dredged up a disarming grin, "Oh, I doubt it not, I doubt it not. All the same I don't think you'll find such a room in Springfield, as people here are strangely accustomed to being compensated."
Mr. Lincoln's smile turned rueful, melancholy overpowering the steel in his grey eyes as he inclined his head in polite, resigned acknowledgment, "Good day."
Joshua let his attention drift back to tidying the front counter and paused. As his exasperation over the unexpected, unpleasant course his morning had taken ebbed the details of the other man's appearance abruptly sunk in - the well worn coat that was just a trifle too small, the amount of dust accumulated on the boots, and, most of all, the slight but undeniably present disheartened slump of the shoulders. Dammit if he didn't remember all too well what that had been like, being a newcomer, in this tightly knit little town. A penniless stranger would be lucky to get a place to sleep in the stables...a free meal of any kind was entirely out of the question. And heaven help him for being a soft touch but that tugged at his heartstrings in a fashion that he simply could not abide. He managed to catch up with the taller man before he had his horse entirely unhitched. "Mister Lincoln? I think I can suggest a plan by which you will be able to attain your end, without incurring any debt. I have a very large room, and a very large double-bed in it, which you are perfectly welcome to share with me if you choose."
Shock wide grey eyes locked with his own for a moment, then the traveler loosed a startled, hearty laugh that suited him infinitely better than the melancholy had. "Forgive me Mister Speed, I was under the impression that your 'friend in need' remark was intended as an idle pleasantry."
Joshua grinned as he led the way back into the shop and up the stairs, "Personal motto Mister Lincoln."
# 03 - Fear
"Miss Todd? I...I'm not certain this is a good idea."
Mary was somewhat taken aback by just how keenly disappointed the softly spoken protest left her. Never the less she mustered the bright smile of a conscientious hostess before she turned to face the gentleman who hovered uncertainly behind her. "If you'd prefer another partner Mister Lincoln of course I would be pleased to make an introduction for you..."
Her train of thought was summarily derailed as calloused hands wrapped impulsively around hers. At her start poor Mr. Lincoln flushed pink to the tips of his ears and moved to withdraw his hands - Mary didn't let him. Earnest grey eyes captured her own and held. "It isn't that. Believe me Miss Todd when I say that I should like to dance with you in the worst way. It's only that...well it would quite literally be in the very worst way."
Mary boldly permitted herself to press his hands reassuringly, "I am not so delicate Mister Lincoln as to be in danger of expiring if a gentleman should happen to trod on my foot."
"Never the less Miss Todd I should never forgive myself if I were to bring you to harm," he demurred.
He was so adorably sincere that Mary managed to fight down the giggle that was desperately trying to escape. "Might a lady inquire as to how it comes that you are so very certain that disaster is the only possible outcome?"
"Experience Miss Todd. As it happens I...came perilously close to crippling Mister Speed earlier this afternoon while he was endeavouring to prove that I simply could not be as awful a dancer as I was making myself out to be," Mr. Lincoln replied with a rueful smile.
The mental image that conjured rendered further attempts to stifle her laughter utterly futile.
# 04 - Jealousy
Mary drew a deep, calming breath. She understood that what Abraham was doing was important and that, as his political star rose, his time was less and less his own. What she could not find it in herself to understand was why he chose to squander so many of the few free moments left to him engaged in heated debate with a "business associate" who, as far as the results yielded by her few discrete inquiries were concerned, lacked any of the significant social or political connections that would have made his support of her husband's cause worth so much trouble. Reminding herself that there was virtue to be found in perseverance in the face of tribulation, Mary summoned a polite smile before giving voice to her request. "May I have my husband back?"
"He's all yours Missus Lincoln." Henry Sturges' reply was also polite, but his eyes stayed fixed, as they usually did, on Abraham. But what made her throat go tight was that her husband's gaze remained equally fixed, his expression the all too familiar blend of stubbornness and sorrow that Henry's presence always seemed to evoke. Mary felt her smile falter as she forced down the urge to scream, to cry - they all of them knew that when it came to granting access to his person there was only one name that Abraham never refused...and it wasn't hers.
# 05 - Injured
"Didn't I tell you it looked worse than it was?" Will inquired teasingly in what proved to be a futile effort to lessen the severity of his friend's frown.
"You did," Abraham acknowledged without looking up as he finished wrapping the last of the makeshift bandages around the still sluggishly bleeding gashes on Will's leg. "But all the same I'd prefer not to take any chances." The taller man pushed himself wearily to his feet, troubled grey eyes flickering to the other members of their party.
Will followed the path of his gaze and bit back a curse - it wasn't hard to predict just how badly Abraham was going to take the fact that all three of them were a sight more banged up than he was, victory be damned. Henry Sturges' countenance was nearly as ghoulish as it had been while he'd fought to keep the train from plunging after the collapsing bridge. His perpetually unruly hair was matted with blood, the tinted glasses pushed flush against skin whiter than parchment while the webs of blue veins beneath stood out starkly. Will spared a uneasy moment to ponder whether the glamour failure should be attributed to the vampire's own injuries...or the sight and scent of the blood welling from the injuries of the mortal man whose badly broken leg he was in the process of splinting. Speed's eyes were closed, his colour practically a match for the vampire's and, perhaps most tellingly, he was silent as the proverbial grave. There had been more than one occasion over the duration of their acquaintance that Will had found cause to wish that too fast, too free Kentucky mouth stopped...but not like this. Never like this.
The sight of him bowed Abraham's head and shoulders in a way that was both familiar and deeply troubling. "I should never have dragged you boys into this."
Will pushed himself to his own feet to lay a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, "The only dragging I recollect was your heels when we told you we were with you come hell or high water." His attempt at consolation was rewarded with what might have charitably been described as an attempt at a smile but it stopped well short of Abraham's eyes. And dammit if Will didn't know better than any man in America the futility of trying to find the right words to dissuade its current President from endless self recrimination once the taller man had judged his chosen course of action to have resulted in someone else's misfortune.
# 06 - Broken
Abraham knew that, all things considered, he ought to be more grateful - the doctor had been quick to reassure that his patient was out of danger, that the leg and assorted other damages would heal and that the limp would be barely noticeable. But all he could think of was the way those blue eyes had slid from his as Speed made his case for playing traitor, "You can argue all you like Lincoln but we both know you are not going to be able to conjure up an easier sell than a slave owner from a border state whose own father dealt with the devils. Besides...I reckon we both know that if you were certain you had been sold out and narrowed it to the two of us...it ain't Will you would be harbouring suspicions about." It made him nauseous still to recollect the undeniable, damning pause that had preceded his spluttered attempts at repudiation and heartsick to reflect afresh that it had been the undeservedly ponderous and begrudging fashion in which he had allowed his regard for the other man to warm that had made that same repudiation necessary. Abraham was tired, so very tired, of other people paying the price for his mistakes.
Slender fingers found Abe's hand resting atop the blankets and squeezed. "Somethin' else go wrong while I was insensible? Or might a body ascribe the fact you look gloomier than a graveyard on a wet Sunday to that chair being frightful uncomfortable?"
"I have it on good authority that I came into this world gloomier than a graveyard on a wet Sunday," Abraham laced their fingers and gently returned the squeeze, "though, for the record, the chair is a trifle small."
"I'll have you know that I quite distinctly recall you possessin' a considerable number of laugh lines Mister Lincoln," Speed drawled, airy tone in stark contrast to the seriousness behind his eyes. "When you ain't worryin' too much over things that not a person alive would blame you for."
"Where as I quite distinctly recall you declaring it in no way possible for a man to worry too much where his friends were concerned Mister Speed. On multiple occasions,"Abraham retorted fondly.
Speed's smile abruptly turned self-conscious, "Always reckoned you stopped listenin' when I took to ramblin' on all frightfully overfamiliar like that."
Abe swallowed - over twenty years of ill considered words had brought them to this place and he needed to find the right words now. "Reckon I gave you cause to think so. I am sorry Joshua. My friendships are perhaps the only aspect of my life in which I have always been able to count myself among the most happily fortunate of men. And, damnably slow to realize it as I was, I know my heart better now - my desire to befriend you is everlasting. Should you find that 'frightfully overfamiliar' I do apologize but I will never cease, while I know how to do any thing."
Shock wide blue eyes locked on his own, then rapidly blinked tear brightness away. After a moment his hand was pressed once more as his friend's smile broadened into a teasing, easy grin that made him look, if only for a moment, twenty-three again. "Suppose I ought to have cottoned on you had got at least a little fond of me Mister Lincoln. Else you would have smothered me in my sleep years ago."
Abe felt the weight on his heart lessening as he grinned back, "Considerable more than a little, Mister Speed."
Author: Ivybramble
Fandom: Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter
Summary: Thought I'd take a stab at attempting to get inside the heads of these characters for more than a run-on sentence (or seventy-five). All snippets are set in a movie-book verse mash-up that allows the historical characters to keep their historical death dates.
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no money. Lines in bold belong to the novel, the film, the Bard and/or history.
# 01 - Love
Pale fingers traced reverently over the leather cover before opening to the place he'd left his marker and Henry Sturges permitted himself the indulgence of a small but genuine smile. While the preternatural perversion that passed for his existence was not nearly as devoid of delight as Henry would wish it (the damnable, undiminishable ecstasy that was feeding being the worst), the works of William Shakespeare continued to afford him a pleasure that was purely human - and as such a source of gratification that Henry could allow himself without being reminded of the more monstrous aspects of his nature. He drew an unnecessary, anticipatory breath prior to beginning the piece the way its author had intended it to be read - aloud, "If you will not undo what you have done, that is,/kill him whom you have recovered, desire it not./Fare ye well at once: my bosom is full of kindness,/and I am yet so near the manners of my mother, that/ upon the least occasion more mine eyes will tell tales of me. I am bound to the Count Orsino's court: farewell./The gentleness of all the gods..."
"Henry?"
Henry did Abraham the courtesy of pausing but kept his eyes fixed on the page. Because he was annoyed with the interruption. (Certainly not because of any lingering guilt over having put the boy's head into a bar hard enough it was a wonder his nose wasn't broken.) Uncomfortable silence set in as it became apparent that Abraham had no intention of continuing without some sort of verbal acknowledgment. "Yes?"
"I am sorry Henry. About earlier. I did promise and...and I can do better. I won't disappoint you again."
Henry abruptly found himself drowning in the earnest, grey eyes that he'd had no intention of meeting seconds before. The regret, sincerity, and above all warmth of the apology, undeserved as it was, was more than he could endure. (He hadn't, as it happened, been disappointed. He'd been frightened by the boy's suicidal rashness. And the discovery that he could still form attachments, after such a pitifully short acquaintance, when he'd sworn off them entirely had made him furious.) "You're forgiven. And...you weren't the only one at fault Abraham. You must know it...it wasn't my intention to...be so rough."
"We'll both do better next time," Abraham amended, relieved smile bright enough to render all the lamps in the room superfluous. "What was that were you reading? When I came in?"
Henry could feel the corners of his mouth edging upward again. "One of Shakespeare's comedies - Twelfth Night."
"I...would it be a terrible imposition if I were to..."
Henry patted the empty cushion next to him in invitation before he could think better of it. (Which required him to ignore the smarmy voice of his sire sing-songing in the darkest corner of his mind, 'No friends or family Henry. You remember what happens.') "You're welcome to stay Abraham. If that's what you'd like."
"I'd like that very much Henry. Thank you." The smile was shyer, but no less warm.
Henry gave his protege a moment to settle comfortably before he resumed from where he'd broken off, "The gentleness of all the gods go with thee!/I have many enemies in Orsino's court,/Else would I very shortly see thee there./But, come what may, I do adore thee so,/That danger shall seem sport, and I will go."
# 02 - Lonely
Upon reflection his "You will forgive my saying so, but I have learned that 'credit' is a French word meaning 'I shall never pay you,'" left his mouth a good deal more curtly than Joshua had intended.
And though it had everything to do with the fact that he'd been cheated by his own damned associate and nothing to do with the man currently in front of him...judging by the hint of steel that crept into the traveler's reply it hadn't passed unnoticed, "I square my debts."
Joshua wrapped his hand around his recovered property as a ward against further venting of his frustration on an undeserving party and dredged up a disarming grin, "Oh, I doubt it not, I doubt it not. All the same I don't think you'll find such a room in Springfield, as people here are strangely accustomed to being compensated."
Mr. Lincoln's smile turned rueful, melancholy overpowering the steel in his grey eyes as he inclined his head in polite, resigned acknowledgment, "Good day."
Joshua let his attention drift back to tidying the front counter and paused. As his exasperation over the unexpected, unpleasant course his morning had taken ebbed the details of the other man's appearance abruptly sunk in - the well worn coat that was just a trifle too small, the amount of dust accumulated on the boots, and, most of all, the slight but undeniably present disheartened slump of the shoulders. Dammit if he didn't remember all too well what that had been like, being a newcomer, in this tightly knit little town. A penniless stranger would be lucky to get a place to sleep in the stables...a free meal of any kind was entirely out of the question. And heaven help him for being a soft touch but that tugged at his heartstrings in a fashion that he simply could not abide. He managed to catch up with the taller man before he had his horse entirely unhitched. "Mister Lincoln? I think I can suggest a plan by which you will be able to attain your end, without incurring any debt. I have a very large room, and a very large double-bed in it, which you are perfectly welcome to share with me if you choose."
Shock wide grey eyes locked with his own for a moment, then the traveler loosed a startled, hearty laugh that suited him infinitely better than the melancholy had. "Forgive me Mister Speed, I was under the impression that your 'friend in need' remark was intended as an idle pleasantry."
Joshua grinned as he led the way back into the shop and up the stairs, "Personal motto Mister Lincoln."
# 03 - Fear
"Miss Todd? I...I'm not certain this is a good idea."
Mary was somewhat taken aback by just how keenly disappointed the softly spoken protest left her. Never the less she mustered the bright smile of a conscientious hostess before she turned to face the gentleman who hovered uncertainly behind her. "If you'd prefer another partner Mister Lincoln of course I would be pleased to make an introduction for you..."
Her train of thought was summarily derailed as calloused hands wrapped impulsively around hers. At her start poor Mr. Lincoln flushed pink to the tips of his ears and moved to withdraw his hands - Mary didn't let him. Earnest grey eyes captured her own and held. "It isn't that. Believe me Miss Todd when I say that I should like to dance with you in the worst way. It's only that...well it would quite literally be in the very worst way."
Mary boldly permitted herself to press his hands reassuringly, "I am not so delicate Mister Lincoln as to be in danger of expiring if a gentleman should happen to trod on my foot."
"Never the less Miss Todd I should never forgive myself if I were to bring you to harm," he demurred.
He was so adorably sincere that Mary managed to fight down the giggle that was desperately trying to escape. "Might a lady inquire as to how it comes that you are so very certain that disaster is the only possible outcome?"
"Experience Miss Todd. As it happens I...came perilously close to crippling Mister Speed earlier this afternoon while he was endeavouring to prove that I simply could not be as awful a dancer as I was making myself out to be," Mr. Lincoln replied with a rueful smile.
The mental image that conjured rendered further attempts to stifle her laughter utterly futile.
# 04 - Jealousy
Mary drew a deep, calming breath. She understood that what Abraham was doing was important and that, as his political star rose, his time was less and less his own. What she could not find it in herself to understand was why he chose to squander so many of the few free moments left to him engaged in heated debate with a "business associate" who, as far as the results yielded by her few discrete inquiries were concerned, lacked any of the significant social or political connections that would have made his support of her husband's cause worth so much trouble. Reminding herself that there was virtue to be found in perseverance in the face of tribulation, Mary summoned a polite smile before giving voice to her request. "May I have my husband back?"
"He's all yours Missus Lincoln." Henry Sturges' reply was also polite, but his eyes stayed fixed, as they usually did, on Abraham. But what made her throat go tight was that her husband's gaze remained equally fixed, his expression the all too familiar blend of stubbornness and sorrow that Henry's presence always seemed to evoke. Mary felt her smile falter as she forced down the urge to scream, to cry - they all of them knew that when it came to granting access to his person there was only one name that Abraham never refused...and it wasn't hers.
# 05 - Injured
"Didn't I tell you it looked worse than it was?" Will inquired teasingly in what proved to be a futile effort to lessen the severity of his friend's frown.
"You did," Abraham acknowledged without looking up as he finished wrapping the last of the makeshift bandages around the still sluggishly bleeding gashes on Will's leg. "But all the same I'd prefer not to take any chances." The taller man pushed himself wearily to his feet, troubled grey eyes flickering to the other members of their party.
Will followed the path of his gaze and bit back a curse - it wasn't hard to predict just how badly Abraham was going to take the fact that all three of them were a sight more banged up than he was, victory be damned. Henry Sturges' countenance was nearly as ghoulish as it had been while he'd fought to keep the train from plunging after the collapsing bridge. His perpetually unruly hair was matted with blood, the tinted glasses pushed flush against skin whiter than parchment while the webs of blue veins beneath stood out starkly. Will spared a uneasy moment to ponder whether the glamour failure should be attributed to the vampire's own injuries...or the sight and scent of the blood welling from the injuries of the mortal man whose badly broken leg he was in the process of splinting. Speed's eyes were closed, his colour practically a match for the vampire's and, perhaps most tellingly, he was silent as the proverbial grave. There had been more than one occasion over the duration of their acquaintance that Will had found cause to wish that too fast, too free Kentucky mouth stopped...but not like this. Never like this.
The sight of him bowed Abraham's head and shoulders in a way that was both familiar and deeply troubling. "I should never have dragged you boys into this."
Will pushed himself to his own feet to lay a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, "The only dragging I recollect was your heels when we told you we were with you come hell or high water." His attempt at consolation was rewarded with what might have charitably been described as an attempt at a smile but it stopped well short of Abraham's eyes. And dammit if Will didn't know better than any man in America the futility of trying to find the right words to dissuade its current President from endless self recrimination once the taller man had judged his chosen course of action to have resulted in someone else's misfortune.
# 06 - Broken
Abraham knew that, all things considered, he ought to be more grateful - the doctor had been quick to reassure that his patient was out of danger, that the leg and assorted other damages would heal and that the limp would be barely noticeable. But all he could think of was the way those blue eyes had slid from his as Speed made his case for playing traitor, "You can argue all you like Lincoln but we both know you are not going to be able to conjure up an easier sell than a slave owner from a border state whose own father dealt with the devils. Besides...I reckon we both know that if you were certain you had been sold out and narrowed it to the two of us...it ain't Will you would be harbouring suspicions about." It made him nauseous still to recollect the undeniable, damning pause that had preceded his spluttered attempts at repudiation and heartsick to reflect afresh that it had been the undeservedly ponderous and begrudging fashion in which he had allowed his regard for the other man to warm that had made that same repudiation necessary. Abraham was tired, so very tired, of other people paying the price for his mistakes.
Slender fingers found Abe's hand resting atop the blankets and squeezed. "Somethin' else go wrong while I was insensible? Or might a body ascribe the fact you look gloomier than a graveyard on a wet Sunday to that chair being frightful uncomfortable?"
"I have it on good authority that I came into this world gloomier than a graveyard on a wet Sunday," Abraham laced their fingers and gently returned the squeeze, "though, for the record, the chair is a trifle small."
"I'll have you know that I quite distinctly recall you possessin' a considerable number of laugh lines Mister Lincoln," Speed drawled, airy tone in stark contrast to the seriousness behind his eyes. "When you ain't worryin' too much over things that not a person alive would blame you for."
"Where as I quite distinctly recall you declaring it in no way possible for a man to worry too much where his friends were concerned Mister Speed. On multiple occasions,"Abraham retorted fondly.
Speed's smile abruptly turned self-conscious, "Always reckoned you stopped listenin' when I took to ramblin' on all frightfully overfamiliar like that."
Abe swallowed - over twenty years of ill considered words had brought them to this place and he needed to find the right words now. "Reckon I gave you cause to think so. I am sorry Joshua. My friendships are perhaps the only aspect of my life in which I have always been able to count myself among the most happily fortunate of men. And, damnably slow to realize it as I was, I know my heart better now - my desire to befriend you is everlasting. Should you find that 'frightfully overfamiliar' I do apologize but I will never cease, while I know how to do any thing."
Shock wide blue eyes locked on his own, then rapidly blinked tear brightness away. After a moment his hand was pressed once more as his friend's smile broadened into a teasing, easy grin that made him look, if only for a moment, twenty-three again. "Suppose I ought to have cottoned on you had got at least a little fond of me Mister Lincoln. Else you would have smothered me in my sleep years ago."
Abe felt the weight on his heart lessening as he grinned back, "Considerable more than a little, Mister Speed."