Of Silence and Thievery (17/30ish)
Title : Of Silence and Thievery
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance
Pairings: USUK main, minor others
Rating: R
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.
Note: I'll just begin by apologizing for the delay in this chapter. You've no doubt been noticing I haven't stopped writing, just couldn't quite find the proper mojo for this story for a bit. I'm happy to say it is back and hopefully will stay. Your comments mean the world to me and I truly thank each and every one of you who take the time to write them. I hope you enjoy this installment, it's a long one!
Of Silence and Thievery
Chapter Seventeen: Where There are Lots of Books and Gardens
Arthur slammed a thick, navigation tome shut with a silent grumble, glaring at the book’s cover as if it had morally offended him. Which it had, in a way-what was the point of entitling a book The Navigator’s Book of Less-Traveled Lands if it didn’t do what it stated on the tin? Yes, let’s write a book about terrain and landmarks in little-visited lands but let’s completely omit Ruthenia, the least-traveled land of all; that made a world of sense. He huffed and dropped the book back onto a cart to the side of his table before turning to the next book in his pile, this one entitled Rare Landscapes and Where to Find Them. Arthur held little hope that this book would be of any use either.
They had been at this for two days, Seychelles, Vash, and himself. Two days of looking over books and scrolls in Roderich’s impressive library for anything that mentioned Ruthenia. Beyond a passage on the horrible terrain and weather or the dangers of the borders for countries that ran alongside the nation, that is. Two days of nothing but frustration and frayed tempers as they looked through book after book, scroll after scroll, and found nothing that was of any help to them. It was ridiculous, in Arthur’s opinion, that there was such a blatant omission regarding Ruthenia from recent navigation books. It wasn’t as if it was an ancient civilization that didn’t exist anymore-it was a bloody huge country by the Lady’s sake! There should have been more information on it than a snippet there and a passage here. But no matter how closely they combed through the materials, there was nothing detailed enough that gave them a good idea where to head. Oh, they mentioned mountain terrains all right, but there were so many in Ruthenia that without more detail for Arthur to match with what he saw, naming the hundreds of mountains that existed in Ruthenia was all but useless.
He rubbed at his eyes and glanced up for a moment, not quite up to opening the next book just to be disappointed. Seychelles was combing through faded scrolls at a bench in front of Arthur, her eye narrowed as she tried to read faded writing that detailed trade routes in Ruthenia which connected to the rest of the Byzantium. Further back, sitting at a table beside a window with Lily, Vash was looking through his own stack of books; his eyes were starting to twitch with every cover he slammed shut. Nearly everyone else had spent the last few days travelling in town and buying the necessary materials that they’d need to make the deep water journey to Zion, which would serve as the country they would dock and keep the ship while they travelled inland. Esther promised the ship would be safe there; Seychelles had not been comfortable with leaving the ship, at all, but of all the countries along the Byzantium coast, Zion was likely the safest option.
Arthur wished Alfred was there; maybe not helping because he’d be as useless as the books, but at least providing company. He shook his head and focused back down at the table and the book’s cover. Alfred serving as a distraction would not help them find what they needed any quicker-and it didn’t matter how nice the distraction could prove to be, he needed to focus. Arthur flipped open the book and scanned the table of contents for the section that dealt with Ruthenia; he frowned when he noticed it consisted of a whooping five pages. He swore silently, but flipped open to the section regardless-with Lily in the room, Arthur actually found himself thankful that he was silent, what with the amount coarse language he’d been spewing over the past few days. He did not need Vash’s disapproval and anger heaped on him with everything else.
“Bloody mother, is there anything useful in these blasted books?” Arthur looked up at Seychelles, who had shoved her scroll away and was staring up at the ceiling moodily. “It’s like they are deliberately obtuse regarding Ruthenia!”
“Well, it isn’t exactly a well-desired land to travel, it’s only natural recent narratives hold little to no detail regarding its routes or landmarks. The authors likely just found a generic passage regarding Ruthenia from another book and reworded it for their own purposes.” Vash turned the page of his book slowly, not bothering to glance up.
“Lazy bastards. Roderich should demand a refund for these bloody things! You shouldn’t say the scrolls are a ‘comprehensive exploration of the modern world’ if they clearly are not.”
Vash grunted and flipped another page. “Would you call Ruthenia part of the modern world? I bet most wouldn’t, not with the constant civil wars, isolation and poverty.” Seychelles threw a dirty look Vash’s way, but didn’t argue his point. It was a valid one.
Lily hummed in sympathy and grabbed the hand cradling her brother’s face, giving it a reassuring squeeze that Arthur saw relaxed some of the tension from Vash’s shoulders. “It’ll be okay, big brother, you’ll find something, I know it!”
Seychelles spared Lily a small, sad smile before she flipped her braided hair back and looked over at Arthur. Normally, they both tried to keep their questions toward Arthur to a minimum so he didn’t need to write on the tablet so much-it was easier when Alfred was there since he could translate for everyone else. She was looking at him now though, her one eye intent; he sighed to himself and grabbed his tablet and quill.
Yes?
She quirked her lips in the facsimile of a smile and got up from her bench and headed over his way. “Just wondering if you’re as frustrated as the pair of us are. I see you’re pile of books on the cart only seems to be growing.”
I haven’t found anything. Yet.
“Thought as much. This is a bloody nightmare, no wonder Ivan is hiding out in Ruthenia! Even knowing where he is doesn’t help us one bit in locating him-calculating bastard.”
“He’s from there anyway. Probably feels more in control hiding in his homeland.”
“Have you found anything in those narratives? I thought some of those were older, from before Ruthenia’s fall.”
“They are, but even when Ruthenia was a powerful empire, they policed documents within their country and those published outside thoroughly. They didn’t like the idea of the conquered nations, or free ones here in Avrupa, knowing their way around their country.”
“They?”
“The government from that age. The Emperor Bruma*, his cabinet, generals, and heirs. They were paranoid that if the secrets of their lands were leaked, they would become a target or it would give their conquered nations a chance to overthrow their rule. The result is that a lot of the travel logs and transportation records from that time are rather vague or in some kind of code I can’t decipher-after the fall of the Empire, and the land was ruined, most people weren’t interested in mapping out the country any longer. Save actually going to a library in Ruthenia, which we may have to do if we find nothing, there aren’t many interested in drafting up a detailed map of a ruined land. Especially one that large.”
Seychelles groaned and rose to her feet, her palms slapping down on the table in irritation. “There has to be something! I refuse to believe that of all the books and traveling done through the centuries, not one was done on Ruthenia by someone who didn’t live there. If we have to go to a city in Ruthenia, like Moskva* or something, there goes our element of surprise! I’m sure word of a group of westerners will travel through his spies and the next thing we know, he’ll either attack us or relocate. Not really sure which of those would be preferable.”
An attack, Arthur thought moodily. At least that way they would know where he was-that would be a small comfort while he kicked their asses. Arthur rubbed at his temples in an attempt to ward off the beginnings of a headache he felt forming there.
“I should have made Gilbert stay and help research.” Arthur shot Seychelles a dirty look before he scribbled on his tablet.
If you had, I would’ve killed him. And then you’d be down a crew member.
Seychelles chuckled and shook her head, running fingers through the ends of her braids. “I suppose you’re right. He would’ve probably set the library on fire by now and then I’d be forced to sell him as a servant to Roderich to help pay off the cost. And no one would want that menace as a servant.”
Vash gave a grunt of agreement but still didn’t look up from his books. Arthur shoved his own away and leaned back on his chair, blinking his eyes up at the domed ceiling, stretching his arms up and behind his head to loosen his muscles. Seychelles pushed herself away from her seat and walked around the room, her eyes scanning the shelves intermittently but without interest. “I thought that Roderich had older books than this.”
“He does, but the older they are, the more valuable they are. He keeps them in his vault within the city’s bank. If you think those would be any less useless than these, you can ask him to withdraw them for us. If you convince Elizaveta it would help, she’ll convince him.”
“Mm, Arthur? What do you think?”
Arthur shrugged and wrote out his answer in carefully measured sentences. He hated how it took him so long to get a single thought across, much less a few. Old books would only help if they had information these don’t. They are harder to read and have to be handled delicately. You can ask though, see what selections he has. I’ll let you know if they’re any use to us.
She nodded and placed her hands on her hips, still surveying Arthur; he tried to ignore her as he sat back up and pulled the book in front of him again. She never did well with being ignored though, and a few moments later, she was sitting on the edge of his table and had a hand against his forehead. He swatted it away and glared up at her, the silent question of ‘what the hell do you want’ clear across his expression. “You look tired, Arthur. Are you getting much sleep? I know you and Alfred are excited to have some time alone but there is more to life than sex.”
Arthur huffed silently and looked back at his book. He wasn’t deigning anything regarding his sex life, or lack of one (it was more of a cuddle-life to be honest but Arthur had deemed it best to go slower and he stood by that conviction, no matter how frustrating, because that was the right thing to do, damn it), with a response. Besides, it wasn’t like he and Alfred really spent much time together as it was. They’d been apart since their first day in Vindobona; Alfred was busy out buying supplies and Arthur was busy researching all day. Arthur was generally out of bed before Alfred was up and by the time he returned, Alfred was asleep again. The only time they really saw each other the past few days was at dinner-Arthur suspected it was because of this that he had the irrational need to hold Alfred close at night, or desired to have him sitting in the library with him just to be there. That, or sleep deprivation was making him more of a sop than usual.
“Seriously, Arthur, are you getting enough sleep? You’re always in here long before either of us and I know you stay later-exhausting yourself isn’t going to do anyone any good.”
Arthur shrugged and ignored her. Or, he tried to ignore her, and was doing a good job until she all but slid into his lap, one arm wrapping companionably around his shoulders (Arthur cursed her feminine wiles-she had a habit of using them whenever she felt she was being ignored, and they were effective, no matter his gender inclinations). He sighed and looked back up at her smirking face with an annoyed twitch to his eyebrows. What? She was getting better at reading lips and was usually fine if he kept his responses to three words or less.
“You look too pale, Arthur. I think you’ve had enough of the books for today.”
He shook his head and shoved her off him; Seychelles was not deterred and retaliated by grabbing his arm and yanking him out of his seat. “Nope, none of that. I’m the captain, even if we’re off the ship at the moment, so my orders are law, Kirkland. And I order you to get out and try to do something about those unattractive bags under your eyes. Two people looking through books and finding absolutely nothing is more than enough. We can spare you for a few hours.”
“I can help!” Lily raised her hand and smiled softly in a way that made her aged face look younger. She looked better, healthier than she had on the ship-Arthur suspected that Roderich had his own physician come and visit her and check on her progress. Kiku was an exceptional healer, but there was only so much he could with a little girl trapped in an old woman’s body on a germ-infested ship. Vash looked over at her and spared his sister a small, rare smile.
“See? We even have a volunteer to replace you! No need for you here at all!”
Arthur glared at Seychelles. I’m the one who saw the mountain range. You need me to identify it.
“And if we find anything even remotely more detailed than ‘mountains’ or ‘peaks’ in these books, we’ll scamper off to find you. See? Everyone’s happy.”
“Just go, Kirkland. You know how she gets when she’s like this. She’ll be putting tacks on your chair next.” Vash’s voice had a trace more humor in it than usual. Arthur felt a little betrayed by the other man but he had to acknowledge his point. Seychelles got more and more inventive and obnoxious the longer you tried to ignore her (that was not a flattering trait, no matter what she thought).
He made a show of shoving his chair in roughly and glaring a lot so she could know just how pissed off he was, but she just smiled at him until he was out of the library; the door slammed shut behind him. He huffed at the door, his tablet and quill shoved under his arm, and rolled his eyes before heading down the hallway. It was the middle of the day, was she really expecting him to sleep? He wasn’t a child (or Gilbert) who could just nap at any old time during the day; his internal clock wouldn’t allow it. Still, he supposed he had been going about his researching with more intensity than his body could really handle-maybe a walk would help ease the tension headache still looming behind his temples.
He took off towards the main foyer of the manor; Roderich had mentioned before that there were gardens they could visit on the grounds and it had been a long time since Arthur had seen a garden. He’d tended a small one back in Britannia, a hobby that was relaxing even if it gave his brothers fuel for insults against his manhood, but it wasn’t a pastime that was practical aboard a ship. Kiku kept a small herb garden in his quarters, but that wasn’t the same, not to Arthur. He rounded down the staircase and headed through the back parlors, following a maid’s directions after he paused to check if he was heading he right way. He was, and he continued down the hallway past the kitchens and into a large sitting room that was framed by large, open windows. Arthur crossed the room to the pair of French doors near the back; they were already open and led straight into a sprawling garden outside.
Arthur blinked and adjusted to the natural sunlight outside as he took in the trees and shrubs that lined a stone-tile patio that had a few chairs and tables along it. He felt lighter already and walked down the length of the patio until he reached a smaller pathway that led into the garden proper. There were the standard flowers for Vindobona-edelweiss and roses and carnations-but as he walked through the winding pathway, he noticed sunflowers, orchids, and blue bells as well. There were all manner of fruit trees, most in bloom, and he could see smatterings of vegetable patches between the trees. He even passed by a small moon garden, all the white blossoms and plants delicate looking against the sheer amount of greenery, and he wondered how much Roderich spent each month up-keeping a garden of this intricacy and size. It must have required regular florist visits to keep all the foreign plants healthy in Vindobona’s climate and to keep the fruit trees still in bloom even though most shouldn’t have even been in season.
He turned another corner, passing by a particular fragrant rose bush and spotted a woman ahead, a little off the pathway, covered in dirt and wearing a hat that covered most of her hair. He wondered for a brief moment if she was a gardener but when she tilted up her head to wipe sweat off with her forearm, he was met with Elizaveta’s face. She was studying a small bunch of marigolds with a thoughtful expression before she turned her head and saw him, her smile going wide as she waved at him in greeting.
“Arthur! Finally decided to venture out of that moldy old library, huh? Oh, wait, you like libraries-well, still! It’s always good to get out in the fresh air! Especially when you’ve been as cooped up inside as you’ve been the last few days. I feel like I’ve barely even seen you without your nose buried in a book!”
Arthur shrugged and made his way over to Elizaveta at her invitation, taking a seat on a small bench across from her crouched position. He liked ‘talking’ with her, Arthur found; mainly because she talked enough for the pair of them and never seemed to ask him questions that required more than one syllable answers. Not to mention she had the inexplicable side-effect of cheering up any gloomy moods-she was like a ray of sunshine injected straight into the veins. He could see why the crew, sans Gilbert if he had any say in it, missed her so much.
“So, is your break voluntary or forced?”
Forced.
“Thought so, not that I don’t agree with it! If they didn’t kick you out I was going to do it myself! I feel like I’ve hardly gotten to know you since you’ve been here and if you’re going to be my little Al’s boyfriend, I really do need to get inside that head of yours!” Arthur felt himself blush a furious red and he sputtered silently, frustrated that he really couldn’t defend himself against those sort of comments properly without being able to speak. Elizaveta laughed and brushed back another loose piece of hair, smearing a bit of dirt on her forehead. “Oh, no need to get so embarrassed, I think it’s incredibly romantic that you two are together, that you were brought together on a thrilling journey with lots of danger and adventure! It’s like something out of a book. You know, I’ve tried for years to match make him before I left , and he never was interested! I was starting to worry he was asexual…”
Arthur felt his blush deepen and he frowned embarrassedly down at his tablet, but his silence, so to speak, answer Elizaveta’s unspoken question and leering look. She squealed and clapped her hands together, turning so she sat facing Arthur on the ground, getting dirt all over her dress. Arthur rolled his eyes and scribbled down on his tablet. Can we please act like adults and not bloody teenagers?
She laughed again and reached across to swat his knee playfully. “Oh hush up you big grump, I’m allowed to be happy for my adopted little brother at finally getting deflowered!”
Deflowered…Arthur could honestly say he had never heard anyone using that word outside of trite romance novels. Please don’t use that word again.
Elizaveta giggled in response and looked at him fondly. It was odd; she barely knew him and yet she was treating him as if they had been friends for years. It wasn’t unpleasant exactly, but it was hard to get used to-he wasn’t the most open of people and he felt like an ass for being that way in the wake of Elizaveta’s warm nature. He often found himself feeling torn between fond, annoyed, and guilty all at once when she extended her friendship so easily to him and that never failed to knot his stomach. With Roderich, it was easier to interact with-he treated everyone, even those he knew apart from Vash and Lily, with polite but distant regard. Elizaveta wasn’t like that at all; he was finding it odder and odder each day to think that they were married.
“Oh, don’t be such a fuddy-duddy, it’s just a word. And I’m just teasing you; I would never make you talk about your private life if you didn’t want to. But I hope you know what I’m sacrificing for being so noble!” She grinned at him again and he returned it, a little reluctantly but still given. She tilted her head towards the upturned marigolds and waved a hand down to a spot beside her. “Well, since you’ve been forced to have a break from all that reading, did you want to help me at all in the garden? I’m trying to decide if these marigolds really fit in around here or if I should find a new home for them-they’re awfully beautiful here, but they’re at their best when helping out the vegetables. I think they’d feel like they wouldn’t be fulfilling their life purpose if they stayed here.”
It was a little strange hearing her talk about plants as if they were sentient beings, but he remembered what Alfred had said about her own Talent that Ivan had stolen. He had likened it to having a magically green thumb, but maybe she had been able to communicate with plants in a way, like Tino had implied he and the other Nordic Brothers would ‘speak’ with their element. He felt a pang of pity when he thought about how she couldn’t do that anymore, just like how he thought about poor Lily or Alfred’s brother, and how that must have affected them. Arthur had never really used his gift, but Elizaveta obviously had-he could only imagine how terrible adjusting must have been for all of them.
He nodded and rose from the bench, leaving the tablet behind; he crouched beside her, motioned wordlessly at the flowers, and pointing over to the vegetable patch down the path. She followed his silent suggestion and grinned brightly at him with a firm nod; Arthur expected her to pull on a pair of gloves, but she didn’t. She drove her hands deep into the soil and scooped up one of the marigolds, roots and all, with confident hands that obviously knew what they were doing. She got up and walked the marigolds down the path to the vegetable patch, plopping back down to her knees and digging aside more dirt in an empty patch to place the flowers in. Arthur stared at her, wondering again how on earth a woman like her fit into the stifling role as a lord’s wife. He blinked as she made her way back but followed her lead, digging his hands deep into the dirt and uprooting the marigolds gently, making sure to keep the roots intact.
“You do much gardening back home, Arthur?” Arthur nodded before he continued down the path to replant the flowers. “Thought so, you’ve got hands that know what they’re doing-you should see Rod try to help. I had to put him on weed duty after he had ripped out one too many flower beds!”
Arthur gave an understanding nod as she brought over the last of the marigolds. They worked in silence for a time as they replanted the flowers, packing in the dirt tightly around the roots so the flowers stood upright and strong. The silence between them was comfortable, despite the many questions Arthur felt tickling his brain about Elizaveta and the conundrum she presented. When they were finished, Elizaveta let out a satisfied sigh and wiped her hands on her dress, not caring about the horrible dirt stains they left in their wake; Arthur felt a small smile tug at his lips as he observed her and then the flattering way the marigolds complemented the stalks of tomatoes and peppers. She patted his arm and looped her own through his, tugging him close and walking him down the garden pathways.
“Walk with me a bit, would you? Rod’s busy helping the crew with some of the more expensive transactions a long, deep sea trip entails and you are definitely not allowed to go back to the library after ‘Chelles finally got you out!” Arthur nodded at her; she hadn’t really been asking him to walk, he knew a demand when he heard one. “I love it out here. Rod’s really done his very best in making this garden as diverse and beautiful as the one I used to have when I was younger. You know, I didn’t live all that far away from Vindobona growing up! I lived in Upper Pannonia, just a little town that nearly all my family had grown up in-it’s nice that they’re close enough to visit! I can’t imagine not being able to see them for such long stretches of time, like when I was at sea with all the rest. Oh, I hated that part about the constant traveling; don’t know how Al stands it, as close as he and Mattie are. Have you met Mattie? He’s such a sweet boy! Shy though until he warms up to you and then he’s got the most wicked sense of humor-you wouldn’t know he and Al were related if they didn’t look so damn similar. Oh, I’m sorry, I’m just nattering away, aren’t I? Let me back up-have you met Mattie yet?”
Arthur shook his head no. She hummed and they turned down a row of rose bushes, all different shades of pink, red and yellow surrounding them and filling the air with a soft scent. “I suppose you’ve been rather busy-and with Merica so inland, it makes it difficult to visit. I think he’d like you. You manage to shut Al up for a few minutes!”
She laughed and Arthur felt another smile tug at his lips, air escaping through his mouth silently. If he had been able to make sound, he knew it would have been a laugh. “Do you miss your home, Arthur? I’m afraid I’m not terribly familiar with Britannia but I’ve heard it’s lovely, if you can look past the attitude towards magic and Talent.”
Arthur shrugged his shoulders in response. It wasn’t as if he would be able to fully articulate the complexities of the answer to that question, even if he did have his tablet. He had liked living in Britannia (mainly because he had known nothing else), and it had been his home up until he’d been driven out of it by pitchfork-wielding townspeople, but he honestly missed the certainty and familiarity of it more than anything else. He had never been close with his brothers, and the distance between them had only grown after their parents had died-he was closer with the crew members now then he could ever remember being with them. Elizaveta squeezed his arm and he looked over at her slightly abashed expression.
“You went off somewhere without me-I shouldn’t have said anything, right? Sometimes I don’t think before I speak, and by sometimes, I mean most times.” Arthur’s smile tugged a little wider and he shook his head to let her know she wasn’t at fault. She understood, but didn’t bring up the topic again. He hesitated for a moment, but tapped her hand and motioned to his lips with the other. “I’m sorry, what about your lips? Oh! Are you asking if I can lip-read?”
Arthur nodded. “A little-Gil-I learned a bit on board the Evangeline. Talk slow though, I’m sure I’m rusty.”
Why-he began then shook his head and started again-What made you stop sailing with them? You miss them.
“Oh, you go straight for the kill, don’t you?” Arthur felt an uncomfortable flush start across his face and he shook his head in apology before she tut-ted and patted his shoulder. “No, it’s only fair, I’m sure you’ve gotten a bunch of half-truths and stories out of the crew. And you’re right, I do really miss them, even Gilbert when he’s not being such a conceited jerk, but I-it just got to be too much, you know? Or, maybe you don’t but-I sailed with them for almost two years and they were the most heart-breaking two years of my life. You get consumed, caught up in the fervor of finding Ivan and bringing him to justice but-you can only take so much failure before it starts to tear you down, especially after Toris was taken. I had to see hundreds of children like Lily and-not all of them make it. Lily is truly one of the lucky ones and I just got so tired of nothing but death and disappointment and it didn’t matter how much I loved everyone, or how much I loved Gilbert because I did really love him, because in the end, finding Ivan always came first and I just-it wasn’t worth it to me anymore.”
She shrugged her shoulders and looked up at him from beneath long lashes, eyes sad but not weepy. “I know how odd it looks to you, Roderich and me. It looks odd to everyone-hell, it was odd to me at first but-I can’t really describe it. Meeting him was just, it was like opening my eyes and finding out there wasn’t just one path to take after looking down at the ground for so long. He cared about finding and stopping Ivan, but it wasn’t an obsession-and Vash wanted to join so it just seemed like a good time to try and find something new.”
Arthur wouldn’t have known what to say even if he could speak, so he was thankful for the silence in that moment. He honestly hadn’t expected such an involved answer from Elizaveta; he hadn’t really known what he had been expecting, but that wasn’t it. After a few moments of quiet though, he tapped her shoulder and asked the question that had been bugging him the most since he first arrived in Vindobona and met Elizaveta after hearing a bunch of stories about her. But what about your gift? Don’t you want it back?
She had to have him repeat his question a few times before she understood what he was asking. “Of course I want it back! It almost painful being surrounded by so much life here and not hearing their quiet whispers and murmurs, unable to help them when rot sets in or watching plants die because, unfortunately, it’s not their season and I don’t have the ability to keep them strong anymore. Roderich tries his best; he hires the best of gardeners and always tries to bring in new plants and flowers when others die but-of course I want it back. But I realized something in those years chasing after Ivan, and that was I was a lot more than just my gift, and that while it was hard to adjust to its loss, my life didn’t stop or end with the loss. I adapted and-I still have my flowers and I can remember what they would whisper to me, and even though I can’t help them as much as I used to, I know I do my best and they are still appreciative of all I do.
“So yes, I want it back…but I also want a dozen ponies and a breed of lily that will never die and lots of other things I may never get and are slightly ridiculous, and I’m alright with that. What I want and what I need are two different things and even though I may want my gift back, I don’t think it’s so important to put the rest of my life on hold.” She paused and looked back up at him with a worried look, her hand gripping his arm again, halting them on the pathway. “But, that was just my own decision, don’t think I don’t respect all the others for what they’re doing because I do, I really do! I mean, yes having my gift taken was hard, but luckily that was the only thing I lost, I can’t imagine what I’d do if I lost my voice, or sight, or anything else like that. Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so condescending or judgmental! You’re not mad, are you?”
Arthur shook his head and looked back at the ground. He wasn’t mad, not really-because she had a point. Arthur had only been with the Evangeline for close to six months now and he could see what she meant about how obsessed they all were, how consumed with finding Ivan everyone was, and while he felt that same fervor whenever his silence slapped him in the face, he knew exactly what she was talking about. He saw it in Alfred every time someone so much as mentioned Ivan or Matthew. Sure, Arthur wanted his voice back and he wanted to stop Ivan but-Alfred’s fervor was different and that worried him. He believed Elizaveta when she said that she had loved Gilbert; he heard it in her voice, that wistful, soft remembrance that was tinged with regret; and he believed that love hadn’t been enough to keep her with him, not in the face of everything else. Love only took you so far, especially when it took a back seat to revenge.
Lady above, he didn’t want to think about all of this. He had just gotten used to the idea of letting what was happening between himself and Alfred develop and not worry too much about what-ifs and a future that they may not even have. To think less and just let it happen. But Arthur couldn’t imagine himself chasing down Ivan in some endless chase for years on end-he could imagine Alfred doing that. If it came down to a choice, Arthur wasn’t confident that whatever Alfred felt for him, no matter how strong or loud he touted it to be, would win out against the anger and rage he felt for Ivan. What happened when he came to the same crossroads Elizaveta had come to? It would be hard to live without his voice, it would be, but not impossible-Alfred would never be able to live without making Ivan pay somehow for hurting his brother. He blinked and shook himself out of Elizaveta’s hold, flashing an apologetic smile that felt more like a grimace on his face.
“Bother-don’t know when to keep my big mouth shut, do I? I really am sorry, Arthur. You came out here to get some peace of mind and I’ve just gone and upset you-oh don’t try denying it, I know you’re drawing comparisons to what happened between me and Gil to you and Alfred.” He arched an eyebrow at her in silent question. “It’s only natural-Gilbert’s just as intense as Alfred is about finding Ivan, just not as angry. I don’t think it’s really as similar as you think though; I mean, Gil and I had problems with a capital P! It’s not really the same.”
Arthur shrugged and kept his gaze on the rose bushes; he heard Elizaveta sigh from beside him but she didn’t say anything further. Arthur thought that was best-he had plenty to stew over as it was. “Are you any closer to identifying the mountain range you saw? I talked to ‘Chelles this morning but you’ve been in there most of the day…”
Arthur shook his head as she trailed off. “Oh-well maybe you’re looking in the wrong place! I mean, travel narratives and geography books are the most logical, but maybe you should try literature from Ruthenia. Roderich has a pretty decent selection of books from Ruthenian writers and I bet they’d reference their own geography much more than those snobby tomes you’re trying to dig through. Maybe you could look at some of those tomorrow, I’m sure the reading would be more enjoyable at any rate!”
Arthur nodded and allowed a small, fleeting grin in response before they continued walking. The silence that bloomed between them was comfortable as they walked past the roses and into a section of flowers that all appeared to be yellow or orange; it looked like sunshine had literally exploded all over. Arthur blinked, off put for a moment and glanced at Elizaveta when she chuckled at his expression. “Overwhelming, isn’t it? Oh, I love touring snooty old women through this section! Their faces alone are priceless!”
His humored scoff wasn’t heard, but she smiled brighter at him as if she did. She started telling him some story about the last gala her husband had thrown and how much fun she’d had guiding a group of women allergic to pollen through the garden and Arthur let himself get lost in her chatter. It was oddly relaxing. Certainly beat thinking about unpleasant truths that he’d been naïve to before today or his constant failures in finding what they needed. So he focused on Elizaveta’s babble and tried his best to push all the doubts and vicious whispers working through his head to the back of his mind. That seemed the best course of action, ignorance and avoidance. He doubted that Elizaveta would agree though, so he kept the thought to himself-it was easy enough to do, being silent and all.
*****
Seychelles was brushing her hair in the small vanity to the side of her closet when she heard the knock. She smiled to herself in the mirror, adjusted her eye-patch a little so it rested balanced over her ruined eye socket, and gave her hair a little flounce before she got up and headed towards the door. It seemed a little silly, dolling herself up for a man who couldn’t see her, but sometimes a woman just needed to remind herself that she was plenty attractive; especially when she spent most of her days on board a ship, surrounded mostly by men and aggressive women. She felt a smile flutter across her mouth as she opened the wide doors and met Francis’ milky blue gaze; her head tilted to the side and she cocked her hip out in a playful stance. It may have been lost on Francis but it still made her feel more daring, alluring. She gave a mental thank you to Kiku, who had told her he would be busy all night and likely not to return to their shared room any time soon.
She suspected he really was just trying to give her some privacy but was too polite to say so. Lady bless that man.
“You’re late, you know. It’s hardly proper to keep a woman waiting.”
“Ah, but mon amour, it is anticipation that builds the passion between lovers.” Seychelles couldn’t help but crack a grin at that-Francis always said the cheesiest of lines, but managed to say them in a way that seemed entirely genuine. She suspected it was the Gaul accent; it made women do and think funny things.
“Well, are you going to stand out there all night and anticipate or are you going to come in?”
“A gentleman always waits for his lady’s approval, ma cherie.” Seychelles rolled her eyes and looped her arm through Francis’ guiding him into the room and shutting the door behind them softly. Francis made his way through the room with more confidence than a blind man normally would, but Seychelles knew that the stunted, shaded vision he had outside in the sun was all but gone inside. Even then, he never saw details, just clouded, vague shapes-Francis never complained though, not when he knew he was lucky to still have something of his sight left (even though he’d grown to ignoring the small Visions he got entirely after the Nords fiasco). Not when he was faced with a completely deaf Gilbert or a silenced Arthur (though that wasn’t really the same since he could still use his scarily powerful gift when pushed to it). Not when Seychelles had had her navigation eye nearly ripped out of her skull by a spell and she was left with a mass of scar tissue and a marred face under the patch. Francis may have been an ass, but he was a compassionate ass; most of the time, anyway.
“I hope your day was more productive than mine,” she said. She guided him to a small table she had set up and poured him a glass of wine from a vintage bottle Elizaveta had so kindly provided. Seychelles grinned as she remembered how happy her friend had been when she’d told her how she and Francis were finally moving forward. Between her and Alfred, she imagined her friend was positively having kittens with all the ‘blossoming love’ under her roof.
Francis smiled in his lopsided, charming way and took a sip of his wine before answering. “If by productive you mean we managed to complete our dull and tedious work of securing supplies and rope for the rigging, all under the tyrannical thumb of Taskmaster Esther, then yes, we were. And you? How did you, young Vash and our dear mute progress?”
Seychelles groaned and took a deep gulp of wine. “Terribly. I’ll be happy never reading another book again after this-I had to send Arthur out for some air, he looked about ready to either collapse or set the library on fire. Neither would have been conducive to our search.”
“Mm, he did look less haggard than usual at dinner. Perhaps our dear Alfred will have a more pleasant night due to your actions.” Seychelles felt a slight blush travel up her cheeks with the way Francis looked at her as he said that. It was an unsung talent of his, the ability to talk about something completely unrelated to what he was thinking and still manage to get both across. “Will you continue your search for the elusive mountain range tomorrow then?”
“What other choice do we have? It’s not like we’ve got another clue on where to head stashed away in a book somewhere.” She set down her glass and leaned a little across the table. “You believe Arthur saw what he saw, don’t you?”
“Oui, I do-however, I fear I am falling into the minority rapidly with that viewpoint. Esther is quite vocal about her doubts. If Sadiq had not been there to witness what Arthur had done I fear none but ourselves, Vash, Kiku, perhaps Gilbert, and Alfred of course, would believe him.”
“Do they fear it’s a trap, like what happened with your visions in the Nords?”
“Perhaps-who is to know what they think, ma cherie? I suggest if you are concerned, you speak to them yourself. As their captain, your word would go farther in assuring them than Alfred’s does at the moment-I fear they are too distracted with the fact that Alfred is so enamored with our mute grump to hold his assurances with any value.” He reached across the table and found her hand after a few failed attempts, lacing their fingers together and bringing the back of her hand up to his lips. She smiled as he pressed a kiss to her hand, giving it a little tug after, a silent plea for her to come closer. She got out of her chair carefully and walked over to him, taking a prim seat on the edge of his knee. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder, her unoccupied hand playing with the soft ends of his hair.
“Well, that certainly sounds more appealing than another day of combing through boring reference books.”
“Doesn’t it? Now that is sorted, I can think of more worthwhile activities we could be doing at the moment, amour. Would you like to hear them?”
She hummed her agreement before she leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. He tasted like wine and whatever that fruit dish had been for dessert; his hands ran up her back and combed through her unbound hair, his fingertips working into her skull in gentle, circling motions. She would take his advice tomorrow, she thought absently as he rose to his feet and swept her into his arms, holding her so close to him she could feel his heartbeat. Tomorrow she would go around to her crew and assure them that Arthur had her every confidence and to trust that what they were doing was going towards finally finding Ivan Braginski. Something they had never been close to before. Something they would do well to remember had been nothing but an empty dream for so long because of failure after failure.
Tomorrow she would. Tonight though, tonight she would simply enjoy the one thing she had been waiting to happen for nearly a year. She was the captain, it was a perk of the job to decide when to act and what to act on. She smiled and tumbled down with Francis and turned down the lights.
Next Chapter
*****
*Bruma = Latin for Winter or Winter Solstice.
*Moskva= The name for the river that runs through Moscow, which the city is named after.
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance
Pairings: USUK main, minor others
Rating: R
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.
Note: I'll just begin by apologizing for the delay in this chapter. You've no doubt been noticing I haven't stopped writing, just couldn't quite find the proper mojo for this story for a bit. I'm happy to say it is back and hopefully will stay. Your comments mean the world to me and I truly thank each and every one of you who take the time to write them. I hope you enjoy this installment, it's a long one!
Of Silence and Thievery
Chapter Seventeen: Where There are Lots of Books and Gardens
Arthur slammed a thick, navigation tome shut with a silent grumble, glaring at the book’s cover as if it had morally offended him. Which it had, in a way-what was the point of entitling a book The Navigator’s Book of Less-Traveled Lands if it didn’t do what it stated on the tin? Yes, let’s write a book about terrain and landmarks in little-visited lands but let’s completely omit Ruthenia, the least-traveled land of all; that made a world of sense. He huffed and dropped the book back onto a cart to the side of his table before turning to the next book in his pile, this one entitled Rare Landscapes and Where to Find Them. Arthur held little hope that this book would be of any use either.
They had been at this for two days, Seychelles, Vash, and himself. Two days of looking over books and scrolls in Roderich’s impressive library for anything that mentioned Ruthenia. Beyond a passage on the horrible terrain and weather or the dangers of the borders for countries that ran alongside the nation, that is. Two days of nothing but frustration and frayed tempers as they looked through book after book, scroll after scroll, and found nothing that was of any help to them. It was ridiculous, in Arthur’s opinion, that there was such a blatant omission regarding Ruthenia from recent navigation books. It wasn’t as if it was an ancient civilization that didn’t exist anymore-it was a bloody huge country by the Lady’s sake! There should have been more information on it than a snippet there and a passage here. But no matter how closely they combed through the materials, there was nothing detailed enough that gave them a good idea where to head. Oh, they mentioned mountain terrains all right, but there were so many in Ruthenia that without more detail for Arthur to match with what he saw, naming the hundreds of mountains that existed in Ruthenia was all but useless.
He rubbed at his eyes and glanced up for a moment, not quite up to opening the next book just to be disappointed. Seychelles was combing through faded scrolls at a bench in front of Arthur, her eye narrowed as she tried to read faded writing that detailed trade routes in Ruthenia which connected to the rest of the Byzantium. Further back, sitting at a table beside a window with Lily, Vash was looking through his own stack of books; his eyes were starting to twitch with every cover he slammed shut. Nearly everyone else had spent the last few days travelling in town and buying the necessary materials that they’d need to make the deep water journey to Zion, which would serve as the country they would dock and keep the ship while they travelled inland. Esther promised the ship would be safe there; Seychelles had not been comfortable with leaving the ship, at all, but of all the countries along the Byzantium coast, Zion was likely the safest option.
Arthur wished Alfred was there; maybe not helping because he’d be as useless as the books, but at least providing company. He shook his head and focused back down at the table and the book’s cover. Alfred serving as a distraction would not help them find what they needed any quicker-and it didn’t matter how nice the distraction could prove to be, he needed to focus. Arthur flipped open the book and scanned the table of contents for the section that dealt with Ruthenia; he frowned when he noticed it consisted of a whooping five pages. He swore silently, but flipped open to the section regardless-with Lily in the room, Arthur actually found himself thankful that he was silent, what with the amount coarse language he’d been spewing over the past few days. He did not need Vash’s disapproval and anger heaped on him with everything else.
“Bloody mother, is there anything useful in these blasted books?” Arthur looked up at Seychelles, who had shoved her scroll away and was staring up at the ceiling moodily. “It’s like they are deliberately obtuse regarding Ruthenia!”
“Well, it isn’t exactly a well-desired land to travel, it’s only natural recent narratives hold little to no detail regarding its routes or landmarks. The authors likely just found a generic passage regarding Ruthenia from another book and reworded it for their own purposes.” Vash turned the page of his book slowly, not bothering to glance up.
“Lazy bastards. Roderich should demand a refund for these bloody things! You shouldn’t say the scrolls are a ‘comprehensive exploration of the modern world’ if they clearly are not.”
Vash grunted and flipped another page. “Would you call Ruthenia part of the modern world? I bet most wouldn’t, not with the constant civil wars, isolation and poverty.” Seychelles threw a dirty look Vash’s way, but didn’t argue his point. It was a valid one.
Lily hummed in sympathy and grabbed the hand cradling her brother’s face, giving it a reassuring squeeze that Arthur saw relaxed some of the tension from Vash’s shoulders. “It’ll be okay, big brother, you’ll find something, I know it!”
Seychelles spared Lily a small, sad smile before she flipped her braided hair back and looked over at Arthur. Normally, they both tried to keep their questions toward Arthur to a minimum so he didn’t need to write on the tablet so much-it was easier when Alfred was there since he could translate for everyone else. She was looking at him now though, her one eye intent; he sighed to himself and grabbed his tablet and quill.
Yes?
She quirked her lips in the facsimile of a smile and got up from her bench and headed over his way. “Just wondering if you’re as frustrated as the pair of us are. I see you’re pile of books on the cart only seems to be growing.”
I haven’t found anything. Yet.
“Thought as much. This is a bloody nightmare, no wonder Ivan is hiding out in Ruthenia! Even knowing where he is doesn’t help us one bit in locating him-calculating bastard.”
“He’s from there anyway. Probably feels more in control hiding in his homeland.”
“Have you found anything in those narratives? I thought some of those were older, from before Ruthenia’s fall.”
“They are, but even when Ruthenia was a powerful empire, they policed documents within their country and those published outside thoroughly. They didn’t like the idea of the conquered nations, or free ones here in Avrupa, knowing their way around their country.”
“They?”
“The government from that age. The Emperor Bruma*, his cabinet, generals, and heirs. They were paranoid that if the secrets of their lands were leaked, they would become a target or it would give their conquered nations a chance to overthrow their rule. The result is that a lot of the travel logs and transportation records from that time are rather vague or in some kind of code I can’t decipher-after the fall of the Empire, and the land was ruined, most people weren’t interested in mapping out the country any longer. Save actually going to a library in Ruthenia, which we may have to do if we find nothing, there aren’t many interested in drafting up a detailed map of a ruined land. Especially one that large.”
Seychelles groaned and rose to her feet, her palms slapping down on the table in irritation. “There has to be something! I refuse to believe that of all the books and traveling done through the centuries, not one was done on Ruthenia by someone who didn’t live there. If we have to go to a city in Ruthenia, like Moskva* or something, there goes our element of surprise! I’m sure word of a group of westerners will travel through his spies and the next thing we know, he’ll either attack us or relocate. Not really sure which of those would be preferable.”
An attack, Arthur thought moodily. At least that way they would know where he was-that would be a small comfort while he kicked their asses. Arthur rubbed at his temples in an attempt to ward off the beginnings of a headache he felt forming there.
“I should have made Gilbert stay and help research.” Arthur shot Seychelles a dirty look before he scribbled on his tablet.
If you had, I would’ve killed him. And then you’d be down a crew member.
Seychelles chuckled and shook her head, running fingers through the ends of her braids. “I suppose you’re right. He would’ve probably set the library on fire by now and then I’d be forced to sell him as a servant to Roderich to help pay off the cost. And no one would want that menace as a servant.”
Vash gave a grunt of agreement but still didn’t look up from his books. Arthur shoved his own away and leaned back on his chair, blinking his eyes up at the domed ceiling, stretching his arms up and behind his head to loosen his muscles. Seychelles pushed herself away from her seat and walked around the room, her eyes scanning the shelves intermittently but without interest. “I thought that Roderich had older books than this.”
“He does, but the older they are, the more valuable they are. He keeps them in his vault within the city’s bank. If you think those would be any less useless than these, you can ask him to withdraw them for us. If you convince Elizaveta it would help, she’ll convince him.”
“Mm, Arthur? What do you think?”
Arthur shrugged and wrote out his answer in carefully measured sentences. He hated how it took him so long to get a single thought across, much less a few. Old books would only help if they had information these don’t. They are harder to read and have to be handled delicately. You can ask though, see what selections he has. I’ll let you know if they’re any use to us.
She nodded and placed her hands on her hips, still surveying Arthur; he tried to ignore her as he sat back up and pulled the book in front of him again. She never did well with being ignored though, and a few moments later, she was sitting on the edge of his table and had a hand against his forehead. He swatted it away and glared up at her, the silent question of ‘what the hell do you want’ clear across his expression. “You look tired, Arthur. Are you getting much sleep? I know you and Alfred are excited to have some time alone but there is more to life than sex.”
Arthur huffed silently and looked back at his book. He wasn’t deigning anything regarding his sex life, or lack of one (it was more of a cuddle-life to be honest but Arthur had deemed it best to go slower and he stood by that conviction, no matter how frustrating, because that was the right thing to do, damn it), with a response. Besides, it wasn’t like he and Alfred really spent much time together as it was. They’d been apart since their first day in Vindobona; Alfred was busy out buying supplies and Arthur was busy researching all day. Arthur was generally out of bed before Alfred was up and by the time he returned, Alfred was asleep again. The only time they really saw each other the past few days was at dinner-Arthur suspected it was because of this that he had the irrational need to hold Alfred close at night, or desired to have him sitting in the library with him just to be there. That, or sleep deprivation was making him more of a sop than usual.
“Seriously, Arthur, are you getting enough sleep? You’re always in here long before either of us and I know you stay later-exhausting yourself isn’t going to do anyone any good.”
Arthur shrugged and ignored her. Or, he tried to ignore her, and was doing a good job until she all but slid into his lap, one arm wrapping companionably around his shoulders (Arthur cursed her feminine wiles-she had a habit of using them whenever she felt she was being ignored, and they were effective, no matter his gender inclinations). He sighed and looked back up at her smirking face with an annoyed twitch to his eyebrows. What? She was getting better at reading lips and was usually fine if he kept his responses to three words or less.
“You look too pale, Arthur. I think you’ve had enough of the books for today.”
He shook his head and shoved her off him; Seychelles was not deterred and retaliated by grabbing his arm and yanking him out of his seat. “Nope, none of that. I’m the captain, even if we’re off the ship at the moment, so my orders are law, Kirkland. And I order you to get out and try to do something about those unattractive bags under your eyes. Two people looking through books and finding absolutely nothing is more than enough. We can spare you for a few hours.”
“I can help!” Lily raised her hand and smiled softly in a way that made her aged face look younger. She looked better, healthier than she had on the ship-Arthur suspected that Roderich had his own physician come and visit her and check on her progress. Kiku was an exceptional healer, but there was only so much he could with a little girl trapped in an old woman’s body on a germ-infested ship. Vash looked over at her and spared his sister a small, rare smile.
“See? We even have a volunteer to replace you! No need for you here at all!”
Arthur glared at Seychelles. I’m the one who saw the mountain range. You need me to identify it.
“And if we find anything even remotely more detailed than ‘mountains’ or ‘peaks’ in these books, we’ll scamper off to find you. See? Everyone’s happy.”
“Just go, Kirkland. You know how she gets when she’s like this. She’ll be putting tacks on your chair next.” Vash’s voice had a trace more humor in it than usual. Arthur felt a little betrayed by the other man but he had to acknowledge his point. Seychelles got more and more inventive and obnoxious the longer you tried to ignore her (that was not a flattering trait, no matter what she thought).
He made a show of shoving his chair in roughly and glaring a lot so she could know just how pissed off he was, but she just smiled at him until he was out of the library; the door slammed shut behind him. He huffed at the door, his tablet and quill shoved under his arm, and rolled his eyes before heading down the hallway. It was the middle of the day, was she really expecting him to sleep? He wasn’t a child (or Gilbert) who could just nap at any old time during the day; his internal clock wouldn’t allow it. Still, he supposed he had been going about his researching with more intensity than his body could really handle-maybe a walk would help ease the tension headache still looming behind his temples.
He took off towards the main foyer of the manor; Roderich had mentioned before that there were gardens they could visit on the grounds and it had been a long time since Arthur had seen a garden. He’d tended a small one back in Britannia, a hobby that was relaxing even if it gave his brothers fuel for insults against his manhood, but it wasn’t a pastime that was practical aboard a ship. Kiku kept a small herb garden in his quarters, but that wasn’t the same, not to Arthur. He rounded down the staircase and headed through the back parlors, following a maid’s directions after he paused to check if he was heading he right way. He was, and he continued down the hallway past the kitchens and into a large sitting room that was framed by large, open windows. Arthur crossed the room to the pair of French doors near the back; they were already open and led straight into a sprawling garden outside.
Arthur blinked and adjusted to the natural sunlight outside as he took in the trees and shrubs that lined a stone-tile patio that had a few chairs and tables along it. He felt lighter already and walked down the length of the patio until he reached a smaller pathway that led into the garden proper. There were the standard flowers for Vindobona-edelweiss and roses and carnations-but as he walked through the winding pathway, he noticed sunflowers, orchids, and blue bells as well. There were all manner of fruit trees, most in bloom, and he could see smatterings of vegetable patches between the trees. He even passed by a small moon garden, all the white blossoms and plants delicate looking against the sheer amount of greenery, and he wondered how much Roderich spent each month up-keeping a garden of this intricacy and size. It must have required regular florist visits to keep all the foreign plants healthy in Vindobona’s climate and to keep the fruit trees still in bloom even though most shouldn’t have even been in season.
He turned another corner, passing by a particular fragrant rose bush and spotted a woman ahead, a little off the pathway, covered in dirt and wearing a hat that covered most of her hair. He wondered for a brief moment if she was a gardener but when she tilted up her head to wipe sweat off with her forearm, he was met with Elizaveta’s face. She was studying a small bunch of marigolds with a thoughtful expression before she turned her head and saw him, her smile going wide as she waved at him in greeting.
“Arthur! Finally decided to venture out of that moldy old library, huh? Oh, wait, you like libraries-well, still! It’s always good to get out in the fresh air! Especially when you’ve been as cooped up inside as you’ve been the last few days. I feel like I’ve barely even seen you without your nose buried in a book!”
Arthur shrugged and made his way over to Elizaveta at her invitation, taking a seat on a small bench across from her crouched position. He liked ‘talking’ with her, Arthur found; mainly because she talked enough for the pair of them and never seemed to ask him questions that required more than one syllable answers. Not to mention she had the inexplicable side-effect of cheering up any gloomy moods-she was like a ray of sunshine injected straight into the veins. He could see why the crew, sans Gilbert if he had any say in it, missed her so much.
“So, is your break voluntary or forced?”
Forced.
“Thought so, not that I don’t agree with it! If they didn’t kick you out I was going to do it myself! I feel like I’ve hardly gotten to know you since you’ve been here and if you’re going to be my little Al’s boyfriend, I really do need to get inside that head of yours!” Arthur felt himself blush a furious red and he sputtered silently, frustrated that he really couldn’t defend himself against those sort of comments properly without being able to speak. Elizaveta laughed and brushed back another loose piece of hair, smearing a bit of dirt on her forehead. “Oh, no need to get so embarrassed, I think it’s incredibly romantic that you two are together, that you were brought together on a thrilling journey with lots of danger and adventure! It’s like something out of a book. You know, I’ve tried for years to match make him before I left , and he never was interested! I was starting to worry he was asexual…”
Arthur felt his blush deepen and he frowned embarrassedly down at his tablet, but his silence, so to speak, answer Elizaveta’s unspoken question and leering look. She squealed and clapped her hands together, turning so she sat facing Arthur on the ground, getting dirt all over her dress. Arthur rolled his eyes and scribbled down on his tablet. Can we please act like adults and not bloody teenagers?
She laughed again and reached across to swat his knee playfully. “Oh hush up you big grump, I’m allowed to be happy for my adopted little brother at finally getting deflowered!”
Deflowered…Arthur could honestly say he had never heard anyone using that word outside of trite romance novels. Please don’t use that word again.
Elizaveta giggled in response and looked at him fondly. It was odd; she barely knew him and yet she was treating him as if they had been friends for years. It wasn’t unpleasant exactly, but it was hard to get used to-he wasn’t the most open of people and he felt like an ass for being that way in the wake of Elizaveta’s warm nature. He often found himself feeling torn between fond, annoyed, and guilty all at once when she extended her friendship so easily to him and that never failed to knot his stomach. With Roderich, it was easier to interact with-he treated everyone, even those he knew apart from Vash and Lily, with polite but distant regard. Elizaveta wasn’t like that at all; he was finding it odder and odder each day to think that they were married.
“Oh, don’t be such a fuddy-duddy, it’s just a word. And I’m just teasing you; I would never make you talk about your private life if you didn’t want to. But I hope you know what I’m sacrificing for being so noble!” She grinned at him again and he returned it, a little reluctantly but still given. She tilted her head towards the upturned marigolds and waved a hand down to a spot beside her. “Well, since you’ve been forced to have a break from all that reading, did you want to help me at all in the garden? I’m trying to decide if these marigolds really fit in around here or if I should find a new home for them-they’re awfully beautiful here, but they’re at their best when helping out the vegetables. I think they’d feel like they wouldn’t be fulfilling their life purpose if they stayed here.”
It was a little strange hearing her talk about plants as if they were sentient beings, but he remembered what Alfred had said about her own Talent that Ivan had stolen. He had likened it to having a magically green thumb, but maybe she had been able to communicate with plants in a way, like Tino had implied he and the other Nordic Brothers would ‘speak’ with their element. He felt a pang of pity when he thought about how she couldn’t do that anymore, just like how he thought about poor Lily or Alfred’s brother, and how that must have affected them. Arthur had never really used his gift, but Elizaveta obviously had-he could only imagine how terrible adjusting must have been for all of them.
He nodded and rose from the bench, leaving the tablet behind; he crouched beside her, motioned wordlessly at the flowers, and pointing over to the vegetable patch down the path. She followed his silent suggestion and grinned brightly at him with a firm nod; Arthur expected her to pull on a pair of gloves, but she didn’t. She drove her hands deep into the soil and scooped up one of the marigolds, roots and all, with confident hands that obviously knew what they were doing. She got up and walked the marigolds down the path to the vegetable patch, plopping back down to her knees and digging aside more dirt in an empty patch to place the flowers in. Arthur stared at her, wondering again how on earth a woman like her fit into the stifling role as a lord’s wife. He blinked as she made her way back but followed her lead, digging his hands deep into the dirt and uprooting the marigolds gently, making sure to keep the roots intact.
“You do much gardening back home, Arthur?” Arthur nodded before he continued down the path to replant the flowers. “Thought so, you’ve got hands that know what they’re doing-you should see Rod try to help. I had to put him on weed duty after he had ripped out one too many flower beds!”
Arthur gave an understanding nod as she brought over the last of the marigolds. They worked in silence for a time as they replanted the flowers, packing in the dirt tightly around the roots so the flowers stood upright and strong. The silence between them was comfortable, despite the many questions Arthur felt tickling his brain about Elizaveta and the conundrum she presented. When they were finished, Elizaveta let out a satisfied sigh and wiped her hands on her dress, not caring about the horrible dirt stains they left in their wake; Arthur felt a small smile tug at his lips as he observed her and then the flattering way the marigolds complemented the stalks of tomatoes and peppers. She patted his arm and looped her own through his, tugging him close and walking him down the garden pathways.
“Walk with me a bit, would you? Rod’s busy helping the crew with some of the more expensive transactions a long, deep sea trip entails and you are definitely not allowed to go back to the library after ‘Chelles finally got you out!” Arthur nodded at her; she hadn’t really been asking him to walk, he knew a demand when he heard one. “I love it out here. Rod’s really done his very best in making this garden as diverse and beautiful as the one I used to have when I was younger. You know, I didn’t live all that far away from Vindobona growing up! I lived in Upper Pannonia, just a little town that nearly all my family had grown up in-it’s nice that they’re close enough to visit! I can’t imagine not being able to see them for such long stretches of time, like when I was at sea with all the rest. Oh, I hated that part about the constant traveling; don’t know how Al stands it, as close as he and Mattie are. Have you met Mattie? He’s such a sweet boy! Shy though until he warms up to you and then he’s got the most wicked sense of humor-you wouldn’t know he and Al were related if they didn’t look so damn similar. Oh, I’m sorry, I’m just nattering away, aren’t I? Let me back up-have you met Mattie yet?”
Arthur shook his head no. She hummed and they turned down a row of rose bushes, all different shades of pink, red and yellow surrounding them and filling the air with a soft scent. “I suppose you’ve been rather busy-and with Merica so inland, it makes it difficult to visit. I think he’d like you. You manage to shut Al up for a few minutes!”
She laughed and Arthur felt another smile tug at his lips, air escaping through his mouth silently. If he had been able to make sound, he knew it would have been a laugh. “Do you miss your home, Arthur? I’m afraid I’m not terribly familiar with Britannia but I’ve heard it’s lovely, if you can look past the attitude towards magic and Talent.”
Arthur shrugged his shoulders in response. It wasn’t as if he would be able to fully articulate the complexities of the answer to that question, even if he did have his tablet. He had liked living in Britannia (mainly because he had known nothing else), and it had been his home up until he’d been driven out of it by pitchfork-wielding townspeople, but he honestly missed the certainty and familiarity of it more than anything else. He had never been close with his brothers, and the distance between them had only grown after their parents had died-he was closer with the crew members now then he could ever remember being with them. Elizaveta squeezed his arm and he looked over at her slightly abashed expression.
“You went off somewhere without me-I shouldn’t have said anything, right? Sometimes I don’t think before I speak, and by sometimes, I mean most times.” Arthur’s smile tugged a little wider and he shook his head to let her know she wasn’t at fault. She understood, but didn’t bring up the topic again. He hesitated for a moment, but tapped her hand and motioned to his lips with the other. “I’m sorry, what about your lips? Oh! Are you asking if I can lip-read?”
Arthur nodded. “A little-Gil-I learned a bit on board the Evangeline. Talk slow though, I’m sure I’m rusty.”
Why-he began then shook his head and started again-What made you stop sailing with them? You miss them.
“Oh, you go straight for the kill, don’t you?” Arthur felt an uncomfortable flush start across his face and he shook his head in apology before she tut-ted and patted his shoulder. “No, it’s only fair, I’m sure you’ve gotten a bunch of half-truths and stories out of the crew. And you’re right, I do really miss them, even Gilbert when he’s not being such a conceited jerk, but I-it just got to be too much, you know? Or, maybe you don’t but-I sailed with them for almost two years and they were the most heart-breaking two years of my life. You get consumed, caught up in the fervor of finding Ivan and bringing him to justice but-you can only take so much failure before it starts to tear you down, especially after Toris was taken. I had to see hundreds of children like Lily and-not all of them make it. Lily is truly one of the lucky ones and I just got so tired of nothing but death and disappointment and it didn’t matter how much I loved everyone, or how much I loved Gilbert because I did really love him, because in the end, finding Ivan always came first and I just-it wasn’t worth it to me anymore.”
She shrugged her shoulders and looked up at him from beneath long lashes, eyes sad but not weepy. “I know how odd it looks to you, Roderich and me. It looks odd to everyone-hell, it was odd to me at first but-I can’t really describe it. Meeting him was just, it was like opening my eyes and finding out there wasn’t just one path to take after looking down at the ground for so long. He cared about finding and stopping Ivan, but it wasn’t an obsession-and Vash wanted to join so it just seemed like a good time to try and find something new.”
Arthur wouldn’t have known what to say even if he could speak, so he was thankful for the silence in that moment. He honestly hadn’t expected such an involved answer from Elizaveta; he hadn’t really known what he had been expecting, but that wasn’t it. After a few moments of quiet though, he tapped her shoulder and asked the question that had been bugging him the most since he first arrived in Vindobona and met Elizaveta after hearing a bunch of stories about her. But what about your gift? Don’t you want it back?
She had to have him repeat his question a few times before she understood what he was asking. “Of course I want it back! It almost painful being surrounded by so much life here and not hearing their quiet whispers and murmurs, unable to help them when rot sets in or watching plants die because, unfortunately, it’s not their season and I don’t have the ability to keep them strong anymore. Roderich tries his best; he hires the best of gardeners and always tries to bring in new plants and flowers when others die but-of course I want it back. But I realized something in those years chasing after Ivan, and that was I was a lot more than just my gift, and that while it was hard to adjust to its loss, my life didn’t stop or end with the loss. I adapted and-I still have my flowers and I can remember what they would whisper to me, and even though I can’t help them as much as I used to, I know I do my best and they are still appreciative of all I do.
“So yes, I want it back…but I also want a dozen ponies and a breed of lily that will never die and lots of other things I may never get and are slightly ridiculous, and I’m alright with that. What I want and what I need are two different things and even though I may want my gift back, I don’t think it’s so important to put the rest of my life on hold.” She paused and looked back up at him with a worried look, her hand gripping his arm again, halting them on the pathway. “But, that was just my own decision, don’t think I don’t respect all the others for what they’re doing because I do, I really do! I mean, yes having my gift taken was hard, but luckily that was the only thing I lost, I can’t imagine what I’d do if I lost my voice, or sight, or anything else like that. Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so condescending or judgmental! You’re not mad, are you?”
Arthur shook his head and looked back at the ground. He wasn’t mad, not really-because she had a point. Arthur had only been with the Evangeline for close to six months now and he could see what she meant about how obsessed they all were, how consumed with finding Ivan everyone was, and while he felt that same fervor whenever his silence slapped him in the face, he knew exactly what she was talking about. He saw it in Alfred every time someone so much as mentioned Ivan or Matthew. Sure, Arthur wanted his voice back and he wanted to stop Ivan but-Alfred’s fervor was different and that worried him. He believed Elizaveta when she said that she had loved Gilbert; he heard it in her voice, that wistful, soft remembrance that was tinged with regret; and he believed that love hadn’t been enough to keep her with him, not in the face of everything else. Love only took you so far, especially when it took a back seat to revenge.
Lady above, he didn’t want to think about all of this. He had just gotten used to the idea of letting what was happening between himself and Alfred develop and not worry too much about what-ifs and a future that they may not even have. To think less and just let it happen. But Arthur couldn’t imagine himself chasing down Ivan in some endless chase for years on end-he could imagine Alfred doing that. If it came down to a choice, Arthur wasn’t confident that whatever Alfred felt for him, no matter how strong or loud he touted it to be, would win out against the anger and rage he felt for Ivan. What happened when he came to the same crossroads Elizaveta had come to? It would be hard to live without his voice, it would be, but not impossible-Alfred would never be able to live without making Ivan pay somehow for hurting his brother. He blinked and shook himself out of Elizaveta’s hold, flashing an apologetic smile that felt more like a grimace on his face.
“Bother-don’t know when to keep my big mouth shut, do I? I really am sorry, Arthur. You came out here to get some peace of mind and I’ve just gone and upset you-oh don’t try denying it, I know you’re drawing comparisons to what happened between me and Gil to you and Alfred.” He arched an eyebrow at her in silent question. “It’s only natural-Gilbert’s just as intense as Alfred is about finding Ivan, just not as angry. I don’t think it’s really as similar as you think though; I mean, Gil and I had problems with a capital P! It’s not really the same.”
Arthur shrugged and kept his gaze on the rose bushes; he heard Elizaveta sigh from beside him but she didn’t say anything further. Arthur thought that was best-he had plenty to stew over as it was. “Are you any closer to identifying the mountain range you saw? I talked to ‘Chelles this morning but you’ve been in there most of the day…”
Arthur shook his head as she trailed off. “Oh-well maybe you’re looking in the wrong place! I mean, travel narratives and geography books are the most logical, but maybe you should try literature from Ruthenia. Roderich has a pretty decent selection of books from Ruthenian writers and I bet they’d reference their own geography much more than those snobby tomes you’re trying to dig through. Maybe you could look at some of those tomorrow, I’m sure the reading would be more enjoyable at any rate!”
Arthur nodded and allowed a small, fleeting grin in response before they continued walking. The silence that bloomed between them was comfortable as they walked past the roses and into a section of flowers that all appeared to be yellow or orange; it looked like sunshine had literally exploded all over. Arthur blinked, off put for a moment and glanced at Elizaveta when she chuckled at his expression. “Overwhelming, isn’t it? Oh, I love touring snooty old women through this section! Their faces alone are priceless!”
His humored scoff wasn’t heard, but she smiled brighter at him as if she did. She started telling him some story about the last gala her husband had thrown and how much fun she’d had guiding a group of women allergic to pollen through the garden and Arthur let himself get lost in her chatter. It was oddly relaxing. Certainly beat thinking about unpleasant truths that he’d been naïve to before today or his constant failures in finding what they needed. So he focused on Elizaveta’s babble and tried his best to push all the doubts and vicious whispers working through his head to the back of his mind. That seemed the best course of action, ignorance and avoidance. He doubted that Elizaveta would agree though, so he kept the thought to himself-it was easy enough to do, being silent and all.
*****
Seychelles was brushing her hair in the small vanity to the side of her closet when she heard the knock. She smiled to herself in the mirror, adjusted her eye-patch a little so it rested balanced over her ruined eye socket, and gave her hair a little flounce before she got up and headed towards the door. It seemed a little silly, dolling herself up for a man who couldn’t see her, but sometimes a woman just needed to remind herself that she was plenty attractive; especially when she spent most of her days on board a ship, surrounded mostly by men and aggressive women. She felt a smile flutter across her mouth as she opened the wide doors and met Francis’ milky blue gaze; her head tilted to the side and she cocked her hip out in a playful stance. It may have been lost on Francis but it still made her feel more daring, alluring. She gave a mental thank you to Kiku, who had told her he would be busy all night and likely not to return to their shared room any time soon.
She suspected he really was just trying to give her some privacy but was too polite to say so. Lady bless that man.
“You’re late, you know. It’s hardly proper to keep a woman waiting.”
“Ah, but mon amour, it is anticipation that builds the passion between lovers.” Seychelles couldn’t help but crack a grin at that-Francis always said the cheesiest of lines, but managed to say them in a way that seemed entirely genuine. She suspected it was the Gaul accent; it made women do and think funny things.
“Well, are you going to stand out there all night and anticipate or are you going to come in?”
“A gentleman always waits for his lady’s approval, ma cherie.” Seychelles rolled her eyes and looped her arm through Francis’ guiding him into the room and shutting the door behind them softly. Francis made his way through the room with more confidence than a blind man normally would, but Seychelles knew that the stunted, shaded vision he had outside in the sun was all but gone inside. Even then, he never saw details, just clouded, vague shapes-Francis never complained though, not when he knew he was lucky to still have something of his sight left (even though he’d grown to ignoring the small Visions he got entirely after the Nords fiasco). Not when he was faced with a completely deaf Gilbert or a silenced Arthur (though that wasn’t really the same since he could still use his scarily powerful gift when pushed to it). Not when Seychelles had had her navigation eye nearly ripped out of her skull by a spell and she was left with a mass of scar tissue and a marred face under the patch. Francis may have been an ass, but he was a compassionate ass; most of the time, anyway.
“I hope your day was more productive than mine,” she said. She guided him to a small table she had set up and poured him a glass of wine from a vintage bottle Elizaveta had so kindly provided. Seychelles grinned as she remembered how happy her friend had been when she’d told her how she and Francis were finally moving forward. Between her and Alfred, she imagined her friend was positively having kittens with all the ‘blossoming love’ under her roof.
Francis smiled in his lopsided, charming way and took a sip of his wine before answering. “If by productive you mean we managed to complete our dull and tedious work of securing supplies and rope for the rigging, all under the tyrannical thumb of Taskmaster Esther, then yes, we were. And you? How did you, young Vash and our dear mute progress?”
Seychelles groaned and took a deep gulp of wine. “Terribly. I’ll be happy never reading another book again after this-I had to send Arthur out for some air, he looked about ready to either collapse or set the library on fire. Neither would have been conducive to our search.”
“Mm, he did look less haggard than usual at dinner. Perhaps our dear Alfred will have a more pleasant night due to your actions.” Seychelles felt a slight blush travel up her cheeks with the way Francis looked at her as he said that. It was an unsung talent of his, the ability to talk about something completely unrelated to what he was thinking and still manage to get both across. “Will you continue your search for the elusive mountain range tomorrow then?”
“What other choice do we have? It’s not like we’ve got another clue on where to head stashed away in a book somewhere.” She set down her glass and leaned a little across the table. “You believe Arthur saw what he saw, don’t you?”
“Oui, I do-however, I fear I am falling into the minority rapidly with that viewpoint. Esther is quite vocal about her doubts. If Sadiq had not been there to witness what Arthur had done I fear none but ourselves, Vash, Kiku, perhaps Gilbert, and Alfred of course, would believe him.”
“Do they fear it’s a trap, like what happened with your visions in the Nords?”
“Perhaps-who is to know what they think, ma cherie? I suggest if you are concerned, you speak to them yourself. As their captain, your word would go farther in assuring them than Alfred’s does at the moment-I fear they are too distracted with the fact that Alfred is so enamored with our mute grump to hold his assurances with any value.” He reached across the table and found her hand after a few failed attempts, lacing their fingers together and bringing the back of her hand up to his lips. She smiled as he pressed a kiss to her hand, giving it a little tug after, a silent plea for her to come closer. She got out of her chair carefully and walked over to him, taking a prim seat on the edge of his knee. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder, her unoccupied hand playing with the soft ends of his hair.
“Well, that certainly sounds more appealing than another day of combing through boring reference books.”
“Doesn’t it? Now that is sorted, I can think of more worthwhile activities we could be doing at the moment, amour. Would you like to hear them?”
She hummed her agreement before she leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. He tasted like wine and whatever that fruit dish had been for dessert; his hands ran up her back and combed through her unbound hair, his fingertips working into her skull in gentle, circling motions. She would take his advice tomorrow, she thought absently as he rose to his feet and swept her into his arms, holding her so close to him she could feel his heartbeat. Tomorrow she would go around to her crew and assure them that Arthur had her every confidence and to trust that what they were doing was going towards finally finding Ivan Braginski. Something they had never been close to before. Something they would do well to remember had been nothing but an empty dream for so long because of failure after failure.
Tomorrow she would. Tonight though, tonight she would simply enjoy the one thing she had been waiting to happen for nearly a year. She was the captain, it was a perk of the job to decide when to act and what to act on. She smiled and tumbled down with Francis and turned down the lights.
Next Chapter
*****
*Bruma = Latin for Winter or Winter Solstice.
*Moskva= The name for the river that runs through Moscow, which the city is named after.