[FanFic] 1762: Extranjero (Stranger) (4.01/4)
Title: 1762: Extranjero (Pt.4.01/4)
Author: silentside
Pairing: OC!PH-tan (my oc salome, hurr) x America (Alfred Jones)
Characters: Colonial!England, Colonial!America and OC!PH
Warning: Unbetad. Long. To be finished on the next update this evening (Sunday).
Part 01 - here (present period)
Part 02.01 - here (carriedo’s flashback)
Part 02.02 - here (iggy’s bad assness flashback and narrative)
Part 03.01 - here (iggy tsundereness and first encounters)
Part 03.02 - here (Carriedo’s letter et.al.)
Chapter Summary:
Is he smiling at her?
The only time Arthur’s retinue will see him in his nicer moments will be when he gets to talk to his supernatural friends or when he is around his children, the latter which does not happen very often now days. They are starting to develop their own sense of independence, something that Arthur always fears-
Is that why he is warming up to Filipinas? The mischief, the mayhem and the wild goose chase-all things she made him put up with, and it’s even barely a week they have known each other!
Probably he is missing the good old days he used to spend with Mr. Jones and sees that in Filipinas.
-
Part 04 - love story
Back in the Walled City
Five Minutes...
Five long minutes of undisturbed silence, nothing but the sound of the clock ticking can be heard as Arthur Kirkland impatiently taps his fingers on Antonio's office desk. Across the table and few feet in front of him sat the stubborn Maria, who is looking at him like he have grown an extra head. Two soldiers accosted her in the room; both are now standing guard behind her. Beside Arthur are Dawson Drake and a high-ranking officer. They both don't look so pleased.
Arthur cannot take it any more, he spoke, trying to restrain the urge to scream at her. "Aren't you going to say anything, little miss?!"
"Si!" she replied, pointing out at him. "What happened to one of your caterpillar eyebrows, Senor?"
"What happened to my eyebrows is none of your business!" he shot back, standing up and slamming his fists on the table angrily. Of all the things the little brat have to say! Breathing hard with his face reddening, he added, "And it's JUST eyebrows, it's not caterpillar eyebrows! Remember that!"
"S-sorry, Senor..."
Arthur slumped back at the chair exhaustively, placing one hand on his forehead. It seems that she is no longer intimidated with him, either or that or she is naturally stupid. Is she not aware of the consequences of what is going to happen to her? Why did she escape and WILLINGLY let herself get caught? Why?
Dawson stepped up and opened his mouth, but the blonde halted him with one hand before he can say a word. Wearily, he glanced up again.
Maria is still staring back at him.
"Now tell me Maria, why did you escape this time?"
She is not going to tell him everything. "I got hungry...I decided to go outside and buy bread."
"Absolute balderdash!" the governor spat, talking in their tongue so the young colony cannot understand. "The soldiers said she was seen running and getting dragged about by a reckless youth who got away!"
"Dawson! I told you to..." he frowned, "--reckless youth?"
"A young strapping lad--" he said dryly, "they just caught a short glimpse of him, but it looks like one of our own."
"Probably one of the deck hands intermingling with the locals, sir." the officer added. He noticed that his superior is growing increasingly red.
"S-sir?"
"P-please fetch me a glass of water."
It's going to be a long day.
"Hey! That's were Papa keeps his fruit basket!" Maria reacted, when the officer went over a set of glassware and reached for a pitcher and a wine glass. It was then she noticed the room was slightly renovated; her Papa's things were set aside to make way for the El diablo blanco's things. "Where are his tomatoes? Nobody moves his tomatoes!" She stands up, looking anxiously on the walls. She gasped at what she saw.
"You put down Papa's conquistador portrait and replaced it with yours?!"
"Well, your Papa isn't here now, is he?" Arthur inhaled deeply, saying the words thru clenched teeth. Her attention span is starting to remind him of someone. "Like what I said yesterday Maria, while your dear father is away, I will be the one in charge!"
Angrily, he snatched the glass of water from the officer and gulped it down quickly. Wiping his mouth, he continued, "Dawson here have been telling me that you are lying."
"No!"
"The soldiers told him that they saw you getting dragged about by a young lad, one of our own." he said slowly, "You can't lie through that, don't you?"
She didn’t respond immediately.
“Well?”
“He helped me with my food basket.” She answered quietly, praying that Arthur won’t inquire more on the man’s identity as she continues on.
“He-wanted to show me something, I wasn’t able to keep up and fell. He panicked when he saw the soldiers, and probably ran away with my food.”
“Dawson, did the soldiers see any food basket?”
“Y-yes, they do Admiral. The lad took it.”
He looked at her again; this time the blonde stood up and starts to scrutinize her slowly. Maria is starting to be uncomfortable. Arthur felt there is something else she is not telling him. Something was left out. Those young deckhands, if they’re not cleaning the ships, they’re causing trouble among the locals.
His eyes narrowed, “-What else happened, Maria? Did he touch you?”
“H-ha?”
“What?!” his retinue reacted.
“-Did he touch you, inappropriately?”
“No!” she blushed, “No, No Señor! He just grabbed me by the arm and that isn’t inappropriate!”
“Is it? That’s not what I know of!”
“He didn’t touch me at my special places if that’s what you mean!” she blurted out irritatingly, a dash of red growing across her face. “-I told you, Señor! It’s just my arm!”
Arthur’s untouched eyebrow twitched, so all this poppycock Carriedo wrote-
He revealed two sheets of paper in hand, “That’s not what your Papa told me.”
Her eyes widened, suddenly her awkward behavior disappeared and she jumped up to her feet. Arthur quickly lifted it up, before she can snatch it away with her small hands.
“Papa wrote a letter?! Give it to me!”
“It’s not for you, Maria. It’s addressed to me.” He told her calmly, getting irritated, as Maria won’t stop jumping. “He already knew what happened.”
“Is Papa coming to my rescue then?” she asked, struggling to reach for the pages. Arthur have to step back as he can already feel her arms latching on him as he tries to get a hold of them. The more he tried to keep it away from her, the more she stubbornly persisted, grabbing his shirt and elbowing him on the face as she struggles to get it.
“Maria!” he shouted angrily, causing her to jump back a little. “Where are your manners? I’m not a bloody tree that you can climb on!”
“But--!” she squeaked, straining herself as she tiptoed forward. “It’s from Papa! I want to know what’s in it!”
“Your Papa is not going to rescue you any time soon!” he snapped back, looking straight into those wide brown eyes of hers. “He is busy! He
wants me to look after you!”
“H-he didn’t say that!”
“Yes he did, he wrote a set of rules.” He stated, finally giving her the second page of the letter. Maria snatched it, it’s clearly in his handwriting and she recognized the words. Her heart sank. Arthur took the letter it quickly before she’s able to read the rest of it. “Maria, it’s not like your Father wanted this to happen, he simply does not have any choice in the situation. Of course, he still wants you back.”
“I see…”
He strode back to his desk, folding his hands neatly behind his back. “Even if he didn’t wrote me that letter, I still assume full responsibility for my actions.” He sat down and placed the Spaniard’s letters on the desk and placed it in a drawer. “And like what I said yesterday young lady, while I’m here I will be your father surrogate-I will be the one whose going to be in charge.” He sat down, leaning back against the chair.
“Today, you cleverly sneaked out the citadel-“
“Casa.” She corrected him.
“Yes, casa.” He frowned, rubbing his temples “-and went past the best of my guards so you can just buy some bloody bread. You know you can ask my permission, don’t you? Unless running away is what you really wanted.”
“No.” she replied curtly, “I really just want to buy bread outside. I missed them in mornings.”
He leaned forward, the news that her father won’t be able to rescue her immediately have quieted her down.
“Maria, you know it won’t hurt to ask.”
She didn’t reply.
He sighed.
"I can’t overlook this, do you know how worried we were? And how much trouble you gave my men, combing the streets for you?! There are going to be consequences for your actions." he said, reaching out at a small long box he placed underneath a drawer. He opened it gently, but not revealing the content inside of her. It contains a wooden paddle. He can see the expression in the faces of his men change. He used to hit Alfred with it as a child when he goes overboard (which is most of the time), and unfortunately, he is now too big for that. That inconsiderate upstart needs lot of whacking-and most likely, at the head.
"I need to discipline you as well, meaning I have to punish you." he looked up, breaking it to her gently. Keeping in mind Carriedo's rules. "I also do this to all my children if they misbehave. Don't take it personally, all right?"
"I'm ready for it, Senor." she swallowed hard, clenching her tiny fists. "I know the consequences and I accept it."
"Good." He replied glancing back at the box as he slowly took out the paddle. He never punished a young girl before using a wooden paddle. Arthur starts to think twice about it and he felt like a brute, even if the paddle is thin and hollow. He will try not to hit her so hard. All he has to do is get her to bend over the table, give her a few taps on her behind and the deed is done.
He felt awkward striking her behind.
He looked up again, noticing the surprised look at the soldiers’ faces. He almost leaps back in surprise when he find Maria in front of him, trying to lie face down at the desk!
"Oh what the-- what on God's name are you doing?!" he gasped, "Maria! I'm just going to strike you at your behind, not behead you!"
"This is how Papa does it..." she mumbled.
Arthur can feel his face heating up. He remembered when he caught Maria from the mango tree, she was begging him not to hit her and out of fear, she slipped and referred to him as her Father.
He now starts to question his rival's disciplining methods.
"I'm sorry gentlemen, but I request that you all must leave."
"S-sir?"
"Just stay outside the room."
Reluctantly the uniformed men left. As soon as the door quietly closed, Arthur turned back to Maria. She is still lying down without a word on top of the desk. As he moved closer, he can hear her sobbing quietly. The poor girl is scared to death.
"Get up!" he ordered her, slapping her slightly at the back. "This is absurd, I won't have you lying like this on a table!"
She turned her head around slowly, her eyes transfixed at the wooden paddle he is still holding. He almost forgot about it and quickly tossed it aside.
She still didn't budge.
Is she really waiting for it?
Arthur placed his hands over his hips and lets out a sigh, tilting his head low. "How exactly does your Papa discipline you, Maria?"
"Well...he..." she choked, painfully recalling it as she shifted her eyes. "He will make me lie down on a couch or on this table, he will take out his heavy leather belt and whip me..." she fiddled with her fingers, avoiding his green gaze. "He will whip me on my behind and on my legs..."
"Whip you..." Arthur repeated. He cannot believe what he is hearing. "how many times?"
"...until he gets tried. Sometimes until I pass out."
Silence
His jaw nearly dropped. Arthur cannot keep it to himself any more. "Your Papa is such a savage brute, is he?”
She looked up to him, Maria looked surprised. “No he isn’t! Not all the time!”
“He isn’t?” he reacted, “He beats you up, knowing fully well he have the unfair advantage, on how big he is and how small you are-and you are a female! Unless there is really a reason for him to beat you like that!”
Maria slowly shifted her body and placed her feet on the ground. “He does not want me to go outside, Señor Kirkland.” She confessed,
“Everything I do, I have to sought Papa’s permission. There are times he allows me, but most of the time he does not. One of them is going outside in long periods of time-”
“Well then, how do yo-“
“Guardia Sibils-they have to escort me all the time.” She said abruptly, knowing well Arthur will wonder how she does her chores outside. “Papa-he told me it’s for my own good, but all I ever wanted was to have some time to enjoy myself and interact freely with people!”
“He is being very protective.” Arthur said, “You are his only daughter after all-his unica hija.”
“Y-yes.”
“Well I think it’s stupid.”
“W-what?”
Arthur folded his arms across his chest, “He is restricting you, that’s what he is doing. How will you know how the world works when he keeps you hidden behind these walls?”
“Señor, are you being concerned?”
“You’re bloody right I am!” he snapped, “Your city’s defense is poor, everything seems out dated even in your father’s standards! He tried to keep you away so much that he neglected the only thing that it’s meant to protect you!”
Think of it as a learning experience.
“You are going to teach me then?”
“Yes!” he answered quickly, looking flustered, then turning red a little.
She is starting to smile.
At least he managed to make her smile once again. It’s even barely lunch time and all this fiasco have already happened: While slowly getting insane figuring out what to give her, she ran away to buy food leading everyone into this wild goosechase. He nicked one of his eyebrows when the news of her capture arrived. When he was about to punish her lightly, he learned more than what he needs to know.
He hits her till she passes out, hm? Not very civilized of you, Carriedo.
He sighed, approaching her and crouching on the floor. Arthur reached out at both of her arms tenderly.
He broke the first rule.
“Señor!”
“Your father have his own set of rules and I also have my own.” Arthur said softly, rubbing her palms. “First, no secrets. I am a man with an open mind and I listen to reason. You tell me what you have in mind and I’ll see how we can work it out.”
“O-okay.”
“Second, discipline. I will only instill corporal punishment when it’s necessary. I won’t hit you unless you can fully explain to me the reason for your actions and with this you are fully aware of the consequences!”
“Y-you are going to strike me with the paddle, I understand!”
“No-“ he paused, remembering what she said about how Antonio whips her with his belt. “Not anymore-but I will strike your palms with a thick stick! 20 strikes if you misbehave!”
She gulped.
“Third, always tell Dawson your whereabouts, he will be the acting governor while I’m here, so we will all know where to find you.”
He saw her face lit up. “Yes Maria, I will give you some amount of freedom to interact with the locals-no guards to follow you around. The guardia sibils can’t do anything about it, I’m in control now. But be reminded, since I’m now the one in charge, they do their rounds around the city and the streets.”
“T-thank you! Thank you very much!”
He blushed, ignoring her and continues.
“Fourth, you have to assist me in all my projects and endeavors. I want you to show me around Maria, in kind I will help you improve the livelihood of your city. You won’t feel like you’re a captive of your own land.”
“Just don’t try to hurt any of my people!”
“-and don’t run away, again!”
“Y-yes, I won’t!”
“And lastly, the fifth-“ he paused, he hated to say this, he felt like sounding like the tomato pervert. “Never fall in love with any one of my own, Maria.”
She felt her heart drop, if he only knew.
He really can't explain it; it's probably the only thing that the Conquistador wrote that they could unanimously agree on, even if it's not written on paper. And for some unknown reason, he can't shake out the imagery of his own brat with the Spaniard's fiery little daughter. It was like he is subconsciously pairing them together!
Is he even thinking that with her high-spirited nature she will be a suitable match for his hyperactive little...?
No!
She is still Antonio's daughter!
Why is he even remembering one of his literary greats best plays?
“Two empires, both alike in dignity. In fair Europe lay our scene.” He mumbled, his gaze drifting into space. “A pair of star-crossed lovers…”
"Never fall in love..." she repeated, looking worried. She then heard him say something else. "Senor, is the heat getting in your head? You need to eat something!"
"Huh?! Nothing! It's gibberish!" he perked up, realizing he is talking to himself. Oh Bollocks, it might be the heat and the hunger. He turned blue, feeling awkward and tried to clear his throat and continued his sentence.
"What I mean was...never fall in love...I mean not now. Not now, Maria--not during the tumultuous times. When you are ready, when you're already independent...express it when there is no one holding you back any more."
Independent. What is he saying? It's one word they all dread, it kills them to see their children grow up...but it will also kill them faster if they don't. Arthur facepalmed, he hoped he didn't give Maria any ideas.
"You...understand what I meant right?"
"I will try to, Senor Kirkland." she replied, remembering her last encounter with Alfred. She will try to temper her feelings once she gets re-acquainted with the young fair-haired son of Arthur Kirkland, her father's rival. "I will try my best, not to fall in love...for now."
"That's a good girl." He smiled warily, patting her on the head and finally standing up. Arthur let out a stiff grunt as he felt the knobs of knees tick and his back made some crackling sounds. He hasn’t properly rested for almost two weeks since he launched his invasion in Maria's walled city, he can already feel the fatigue. He sneezed. "And one more thing...since I will be in charge in looking after you..." he rubbed his nose with a handkerchief, looking uncomfortable, "--you can address me as your 'Papa'."
That's when Maria frowned, pouting her little mouth. "I'm sorry but I cannot do that, Senor!" she objected. "I have only one Papa, Senor Kirkland. He might be overprotective, but still, he is the one who named and raised me!"
"Alright. Then just address me with your formalities." he sighed, "--and speaking of names, we need to give you an appropriate nickname. Maria is an all common first name here in this archipelago, correct?"
Maria nodded.
He rubbed his fingers, trying to find the right words to say. "How about..mmm salome consu...consu.." Damn it, that wanker likes to give
incredibly long and difficult names to pronounce. "Sal..how about Sally?!"
Maria suddenly bursts out laughing; it was so loud that it startled the soldiers and the officers waiting outside.
"What is the Admiral doing?" The officer commented, "Punishing her through tickling?"
"He is getting her to trust him." Dawson replied, "He won't deliver corporal punishment without any justifiable reason. You know how Sir Kirkland is." he continued, "He is trying to get to know her well."
"That's clever, through that we will learn how the mind of our greatest enemy works."
"Not really..."
Arthur gave her a bewildered look as Maria held on her stomach, rubbing her eyes off happy tears. It was a good laugh and he wondered why, and what seems so funny. Sally does not translate to anything ridiculous in Spanish...
Like Father, Like Son!
Maria cannot help herself; it's the same nickname even Alfred came up for her. But of course he does not know that and she does not want him to know.
"I demand to know what's so funny!" he frowned, his brows furrowing. "Is Sally such a strange nickname for you?"
"S-Senor, the young deckhand who helped me--" she spoke, trying to regain composure. "He also commented on my long name, he also nicknamed me Sally!"
"Oh I see then, well did you get his name?"
"N-no?"
"Hmm, that’s okay. At least, you are smiling now."
She blushed.
--
It probably took about an hour the most before Arthur finally opened the door, appearing to be in good spirits as he told his men to come inside. He is usually frowning, making Dawson and the others wonder what exactly happened. He did punish her, didn’t he?
When they went inside, they saw Maria having a handful of those small breads-pan de sal as she calls them, it seems that she spared some when she fell down at the ground. Arthur happens to be eating one of them. So she isn't lying after all.
"Dawson, Sally and I have worked on an agreement." he munched, leaning at the desk. His attention got diverted. “Oh goodness, I never tasted bread this great! It had that right amount of sweetness and saltiness in it!”
“Muchas gracias! Papa taught me and my people!”
Arthur nearly choked on the bread.
She giggled, “-don’t you have good bread from where you’re from, Señor? I heard from Papa the pastries there are superb!”
His brows furrowed as he took another bite. That will be the frog’s undeniably good cuisine. “Of course we have good bread-I make scones.”
“Scones? What’s it’s like? Can you bake it here?”
He recalled one of Antonio's rules. Arthur grimaced, remembering how he nearly poisoned some local diplomats when he served them his food. He thought they were exaggerating. The only one who seems immune to his cooking is Alfred. Or maybe he is just too embarrassed to offend him
“N-no, but I can try teaching you…”
Dawson gaped; the pleasant exchange is disturbing him. “Sally? Sweet Bread?! Sir! What’s going on?! What is this?”
"Dawson, I wrote some guidelines on how we are going to run things around here. Every man under my command have to abide by it." The blonde replied calmly, finishing the small bread, handing him out a sheet of paper. “It’s short, practical and nothing like the lengthy treatment that Spaniard wrote.”
“Sir-“
“Anything wrong?”
“It seems a little too lenient.”
“Would you prefer going through this then?” he frowned slightly, waving him Antonio’s list. “-Combing Maria’s hair every night, under the watch of an assigned guard…play a musical instrument before she sleeps…”
The acting governor quickly shook his head, “Admiral, I’m here to foresee and watch over a colony for the glory of your great empire. Watch! Not baby sit!”
“Yes, how unfortunate you don’t have that responsibility.”
He gave the Admiral a confused look and the other men in the room exchanged wary glances. Is he really losing his mind? What kind of conversation did they have in that room that made him so-
Is he smiling at her?
The only time Arthur’s retinue will see him in his nicer moments will be when he gets to talk to his supernatural friends or when he is around his children, the latter which does not happen very often now days. They are starting to develop their own sense of independence, something that Arthur always fears-
Is that why he is warming up to Filipinas? The mischief, the mayhem and the wild goose chase-all things she made him put up with, and it’s even barely a week they have known each other!
Probably he is missing the good old days he used to spend with Mr. Jones and sees that in Filipinas.
Or maybe he felt bad seizing the Conquistador’s daughter’s vital regions.
Oh god, wait, that right there, sounds so wrong.
“D-don’t touch the Admiral’s things!” he called out, as Arthur allowed her to go through one of his bags.
“Don’t worry, Dawson. I’m just lending her one of my books. The ones that comes with Spanish translations on the back pages-“
He worriedly looked over Arthur’s shoulder; Dawson saw what seems to be the copy of William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. She curiously skimmed through the pages before tucking it under her arm.
He cannot take it any more.
“Sir, if this is out of guilt-“
“That wanker does not know one damn bloody thing on disciplining children.” Arthur abruptly cuts in, “He just likes adopting as many as he can, like he is just collecting tomatoes in a basket. Quantity over quality-does not guarantee his superiority in this world.”
“Meaning?”
“I can be a better parent to this child than he ever could be.”
--
November 1762
Walled City
Dear Journal,
It’s been nearly a month since I set foot in Manila and still, Dawson keeps on fretting and will not let me hear the end of it. I already explained to him and to my advisors that Filipinas and I have come up with a mutual agreement-she will concede to my wishes, follow my rules-in return, I will teach her everything she wants to know about me. Just enough to sate her curiosity-and not too much for her to question the world at large. The world-is a very complex place for her to understand. Maybe give her a couple of centuries more, in due time, she will know.
I tried teaching Sally my culture, I told her that all she have to do is observe me-she have taken it to heart and by the time I’m up, she is done
nearly half of her morning chores and she will follow me for the rest of the day.
For example, while I was making plans to rebuild one of their badly constructed bridges, she wanted to know how it’s done in my place.
“Won’t stone bridges take it longer?”
“But it will be much better, Sally. That’s what matters.”
“With Papa it will take ages for anything that solid to be built-you’re building it in an amazing rate, Señor!”
“Well, we don’t have time for siesta. It’s a great waste of time. And of all things your Papa have to-”
She frowned.
“Ow!”
Or when she observes my afternoon breaks, she wants to know how can I have my fill with tea and biscuits. But there she is, eating at least six times a day and she is not getting any taller. Where does she put it all in?
“Sir Kirkland, come and join me!”
“Sally, I told you-no! Every time I pass by here every two hours you are always nibbling something and offering me food! Don’t you have anything productive to do during weeke-“
“-Sir…”
“Oh my god, Sally! Did you just address me as Sir? You can now speak in English? You can? She can now speak English! She can now speak English!!”
“Señor, I’m just practicing!”
When it comes to table manners and etiquette, there is no question-Carriedo did taught her the basics, I showed her how it’s really done in my place. It was no easy feat for someone who hasn’t known much of the outside world except her Father’s culture-yet she picks it up quickly the first time.
“I extend my pinky like so!”
“Y-yes. Wait-I haven’t thought you that yet!”
“O-oh!”
But she have lapses (when I'm not around), she have this notorious habit of folding one leg up the chair and sometimes she eats with her bare hands.
"You are not a monkey, place that one foot down!"
"B-but!"
"Have this become a habit when I'm not around to have dinner with you?"
"No, Senor! I'm just taking merienda...! It’s casual! I don’t need fine plates to enjoy it!"
"M-merienda? It's almost 6 pm! You will spoil your appetite!"
"I woke up late from my siesta, I'm sorry!"
"Your Papa didn't teach you much when it comes to etiquette department, didn't he? That's not how a young lady eats!"
"He really don't mind if I eat with my bare hands! He eats his tomatoes that way! And as long as I don't...get to expose much skin."
“This is not about eating like a primitive! You are showing a whole new world under your skirt, does not that count?”
"S-Senor Kirkland?"
"Yes?"
"You are ten times better than any of the governesses Papa have assigned to watch me!"
"..."
She is learning the English language fast, which bothers some of my constituents in fear that she will understand our conversations. I told them, that any matters involving the world affairs must not be talked inside the Casa. It will complicate things.
But I would be lying if I say, I’m not enjoying this experience-teaching a young one, it’s been sometime since I ever mentored someone.
“I have to admit Sally, It’s much easier getting you to wear something nice than having to wake you up in the afternoons.”
“Why señor? Don’t your other children like to wear nice clothes?”
“I tried-they keep on complaining it’s too formal for them. Heh, boys.”
“It’s different with women, Señor. We love to dress up!”
Now where was I, Ah yes, she is learning fine table manners better than we all expected- and she can cook a few of my recipes pretty well. I cannot forget the look on the soldiers' faces: they looked like they would rather go off to another war than taste her cooking-when she told them she based the recipe off my cuisine. Seriously, is it that bad? How did they survive living in my regions when that’s what they eat all the time? At any rate, they nearly cried manly tears of joy when they tasted Sally’s version.
Now I’m wondering, and she have heard me say it out loud, if she have a fairy godmother teaching her.
But so far, I haven’t seen manifestation of any kind and she told me she don't have those kind of supernatural entities, her Papa tried to make her stop seeing them...which I find rather appalling, it's part of her culture, her origins, even before he discovered her. That git always use his religion to conquer territories and brainwash young boys so he can seize-- I mean confuse children. Nevermind, just thinking of that pervert and his shamless golden physique makes my blood boil.
Sally opened up to me that she could still see enchanted beings, when I told her how I have my own as regular companions. She told me, this might explain why she keeps seeing a white horse with a horn romping around ‘like a dream’-as she describes it, every time I take a nap on my work desk.
...it’s a unicorn.
Damn it, why do they manifest themselves to Sally and only shows up when I’m taking nap breaks?
Oh well.
I can’t help myself, I tire easily because of the archipelago’s humidity-my cough won’t go away and now and then I will have the case of the sniffles. How I hate to remember Antonio Carriedo’s words-getting the case of flu, sweltering like an over ripe tomato in a hot summer afternoon in July.
But he is not here, is he? Maybe he have forgotten about his little girl.
“Kuya Alfred, there you are!”
He never wrote again after I sent him my own terms on how I will run things in Sally’s house in exchange that I concede with his rules how to watch over his unica hija.
“You are late, Sally! You know I can’t go anywhere. So how did it go?”
I forgot, he always rubs it in that he has lots of children to look after and he is in a mission to save them from ‘my sick clutches’.
“Kuya, you managed to get comfortable here and built your own bloody tree house in one of my trees! I think you can do something else while waiting for me!”
“Wow, you are now picking up English faster than I thought!”
“Um-“
“No need to thank me, Sally. And yes, I’m working on something while I was waiting for you. Here, let me show you!”
I regretted that I left out that small detail, removing his men’s authority towards Sally-and how I enjoyed seeing them helplessly watch her go unescorted, enjoying the freedom and a childhood that she deserves for her age.
“It’s called a swing! I latched it at one of the tree’s heavy branches! Want me to boost you up on it?”
“I don’t need-boosting!”
“I mean, let me carry you! It’s a bit high-“
My men of course do their rounds, keeping themselves within a safe distance: enough to give her space, but close enough in any time she thinks of escaping. Which until today and fortunately, she haven’t done yet. It seems she is satisfied with the arrangement.
“A-ay! No! Kuya Alfred!”
“What’s wrong? I did ask permission to boost you up, didn’t I?”
“Don’t use new words to me! You can just say you are going to car-oh!”
“You like it? Here, let me push you a little harder!”
“Oh-! Oh…“
Rather, I never heard Sally complain anything with the arrangement since last month. Which I really find kind of strange-
“T-this is, in your words Kuya, awesome! Push me harder!”
“See? You like it, don’t you? So um, that means I can skip on those Spanish lessons now? Because I didn’t finish the short story about some legend you want me to read-”
“No!”
“Oh, darn it!”
“-and you are not supposed to put adobo in that pandesal!”
And she have been skipping her siesta break sometimes too. I think I should be happy that she is out there, being productive and toiling till the sun sets rather than sleeping indoors during afternoons..
“I will make something awesome out of this some day!”
“Kuya, don’t change the topic. You teach me your language and I help you understand mine--”
“I overslept yesterday, sorry! How about I teach you how we dance instead? I know you love dancing! Every young lady has to!”
“S-sure, we are already getting to that stage anyway. Your father told me he taught me all that I need to know with table manners and proper decorum.”
“-and also thanks to me too! Right? Right?”
“Yes! And I thought you were joking Kuya when I have to balance a book on my head!”
“Heheh, he does that to teach you good posture, it might help you grow taller too-it’s never too late!”
“Kuya!”
“Ow! Not with the mangoes again!”
Maybe I’m thinking too much. It’s almost evening-I will write more on my progress with Filipinas later, it’s been an entire month and there is a lot I need to take note of. I hope she won’t be late for dinner like last night. Till my next entry.
Arthur Kirkland.
It was late afternoon, the warm breeze slowly cools down the earth as the sun slowly sets from the horizon. It has been their arrangement--Alfred, the fair-haired exuberant run away 'son' of the nation who ruled the Seas, and Maria, the free-spirited Conquistador's daughter; to meet up every time she finishes her work routine during the mornings. The agreement Arthur have imposed on her have given her enough freedom to meet up with the young man, who have taken himself into semi-hiding by the outskirts of the local barrio not far from the walled city. He somehow managed to adapt himself to the surroundings, even enjoying the fact he gets to experience the 'great outdoors' while getting to observe a whole new culture.
In return for her kindness and hospitality, Alfred F.Jones tutors her all that he have learned under Arthur's tutelage. Language, etiquette, culture--
Maria gently set her footing down from the makeshift swing. "You know, Kuya. You never taught me anything about father's cuisine."
He scratched his head sheepishly, "Umm... but I always love your interpretation of his cooking though!"
"Is it that bad?" she asked, reaching inside her small basket and underneath thin layers of fabrics, hid reading pharapernalias and more food.
"Because if you have seen the faces of his men--"
"I-it's tolerable."
But certainly not much when it comes to the Englishman's food.
"Anyway!" Alfred clapped his hands, rubbing them excitedly. "Why don't you put that book down so I can teach you how to dance?"
“J-just a minute!”
He moved a little closer; Maria is not paying attention to him as she sifted few pages of the book.
He quickly snatched it from her and she gasped in surprise.
"Romeo and Juliet?" Alfred frowned, reciting the words in the first initial pages.
"Two empires, both alike in dignity. In fair Europe lay our scene-"
"Senor Kirkland lent that to me!" she reacted, trying to grab it furiously from the blonde's grip. She hates it when both father and son uses height to their advantage. She was blushing red, "--it's the only copy he have with side-by-side Spanish translation!"
"Hmm, Why does it come with a Spanish translation?"
"I don't know!"
"Meh, the story here ends in tragedy. Don't finish it, it's depressing!"
"K-kuya! Don't throw it away!"
Alfred tossed the book carelessly on the ground as Maria tried to catch it, "Why would you do that? I'm still reading it...and it's your Papa's book!"
"The story is tragic-they both die in the end, do you know that?”
For the first time in several weeks, Alfred sounds serious. “As they tried to defy their families, they bring tragedies to themselves-seriously! What kind of a fairy tale does not have a happy ending?!”
“It’s a romantic literary piece! Not a fairy tale!” she argued, “Fairy tales-does not have endings.”
“-ahh.”
“Now you already spoiled it for me!” she frowned, “N-now I cannot finish it any more! And you seem affected with it-why?”
“I don’t really-know.”
Why is he affected anyway?
Two empires- warring empires…
“Oh, Sally-you still want to learn how to dance? You are a fast learner, it won’t take long!“
“Okay then, but after this you will learn how to read the short story that I gave you.”
“Darn it!”
“I cannot believe you, Kuya! You and my hermano are neighbors yet you can’t understand basic Spanish!”
“W-what’s the story again?”
“Legend of the Sampaguita.”
--
December 1762
Walled City
Dear Journal,
I learned from Sally that the Christmas season is observed here as early as September, which might have explained all those star shaped lanterns when I arrived and those bloody bothersome children playing their guitars and tambourines every night asking for money! Sally will tell me this is the reason why she will leave sometimes in late evenings to attend night masses and Dawson won’t believe her, thinking she is just coming up excuses just so she can escape my singing while I play the piano every dinner time-a joke which I don’t find funny. I told the man he will eat my cooking shall he make fun of it again.
She made dramatic improvements for the past few weeks. Ever since last month, I told her to start a journal in English, write things she would want to say to her Papa. Not only is she learning how to write well, it will serve as a therapy for her-and my chance to learn how that fruit treats his daughter.
“You want me to keep them?”
“You are bound to read it anyway, Señor. I saw you sifting in my study table this morning!”
“…”
“I think it’s also for the best-if he comes back and finds this, he will get mad at me.”
“Your Papa haven’t written for awhile, Maria. It won’t be any time soon.”
“Last night, Señor-I overheard the conversation you have with the Gobernador when you came down to take your cough medicine-”
“You didn’t hear anything! It does not concern you, so stay out of it!”
“…”
“I’m sorry, I forgot you are not used to-”
“I-I think I will go out and get some fresh air, Señor…”
“Maria-I mean, Sally!“
I also almost forgot that Sally is not used to my bluntness, but it’s hard to be in the holiday spirit these days. Probably next month, I have to give her up-after all, this war, one way or another-have to end. We win some, we lose some.
I’m also getting highly suspicious of her activities these days, it’s not enough she keeps on ignoring me-but food rations is depleting in such a fast rate and she have been spending a lot of time washing her clothes at the nearby creek.
I can’t ask her about it. Actually, I did try, but I found her wearing nothing but her thick long skirt wrapped up to her chest that I slipped at one of the mossy rocks there and I have to limp back to the Casa to nurse a sprain ankle.
Antonio must really be putting a hex on me with those bloody rules of his. I don’t mean to observe her in hiding.
One of these days, I will try to follow her discreetly to see what she’s been up to.
Arthur Kirkland
Arthur sniffed, drinking a warm glass of what Maria claims as a good remedy for flu-like symptoms-calamansi juice. Placing a wet cold compress on his forehead, he looked up and saw her sneaking out from the hallway.
“What are you taking out, Sally? You have to show me or Dawson first before-”
“Just some-laundry.”
“You still don’t want to talk to me, don’t you?”
“I need to dry them outside-“
“You can have it hanging in the backyard! It’s very ho-haacchooo!” he sneezed. “I mean, too hot outside!”
“Señor! Your cough and flu never left since you arrived, you should be taking care of yourself! Don’t worry about me!”
“If you say so.”
As Maria turned around, something caught the blonde’s eye: a long pale-blue sleeve and a part of a vest. This alarmed him, since the young female never wash anything but her own clothing. As soon as she was out of the Casa, he discreetly followed her, trying to keep himself hidden to see where she is going.
It was also a peculiar sight for his men, to see the proud Arthur Kirkland stealth about behind walls and carts as he followed the unsuspecting young female go about town. They think the heat is making him lose his mind.
He wondered why Sally would go so far to have her clothes dried.
He waited until she went into the wooden outskirts by the nearby barrio, where he first found her.
She went deeper within the trees and shrubs. He heard faint rustlings of leaves, dried branches being stepped on and voices-
He waited for several minutes, trying to listen to what he is hearing.
She is not alone?
“You know, I want to see my old man dance to tinikling.” Came a distinct male voice, eating his words as he took a bite on whatever he was eating. “I mean-the etiquette training he placed you through!”
“I-it’s a folkdance, Kuya! Not a method of torture!” she argued, “And please be still if you want me to cut your hair!”
“I can’t believe I’m having it cut-I never really wanted to, to be honest with you.” He continued, “I mean it’s my only source of disguise, but the heat is really killing me!”
“Yes, so I have heard a number of times!”
“But pops will surely be relieved that I will get rid of it once and for all.”
“I’m glad you think so-“
“Aw, c’mon Sally. Don’t be a sour puss! Cheer up! Maybe he will explain things to you in due time!”
“How can a puss be sour? You are weird!”
“Just come here, a little closer!”
“Kuya! What are you--!”
That voice is very frighteningly familiar.
The topic the man is talking about is very VERY frighteningly familiar.
It was almost sound he was like-
Arthur cannot contain himself any more when he heard Maria gasp softly. That’s not a gasp of surprise; he knows that kind of sound! It’s a kind of sound females make if the opposite sex takes an aggressive stance in flirting with them!
He then decided to surprise the couple and leaped out of the clearing.
Alfred F. Jones.
He was staring at him with those wide-clear blue eyes of his-frozen in shock. He was holding Maria’s small face while planting a playful kiss on her cheek to cheer her up-and it’s a kind of physical contact that she never experienced before. She was bright red, but as she followed Alfred’s frightened gaze the color immediately left her face.
Rule no. 10 - Never let her fall in love
It’s a bad dream. A bad dream-it could be the heat, yes.
How can Alfred be here, how did he arrive from half-way around the world?
How did Maria even-?
How long have they been?
It took Arthur several seconds to recover from the initial shock.
“Y-YOU!” he screamed, pointing his finger accusingly on the couple, who quickly unlatched themselves from each other. He cannot find the proper words to hurl at his wayward son.“YOU!”
“Oh, crap-“
“S-Señor Kirkland!”
--
Because I'm such a cockblocker
To be continued to the real final part 4.02
I feel so awful when I keep saying this is the final part but geez +_+ well this time I'm reallyyy serious. I don't expect Iggy's letters will take that much space (and that's with re-editing in LJ for an hour + page limit) Also vivalalixi if you are reading this. I will post the rest of this Sunday evening D8 please feel free to kick me.
Also this post delay is brought to you by external factors in real life @_@ and an annoying sister/kin/blood relatives who wouldn't leave me aloneeeee whyyyyy
Author: silentside
Pairing: OC!PH-tan (my oc salome, hurr) x America (Alfred Jones)
Characters: Colonial!England, Colonial!America and OC!PH
Warning: Unbetad. Long. To be finished on the next update this evening (Sunday).
Part 01 - here (present period)
Part 02.01 - here (carriedo’s flashback)
Part 02.02 - here (iggy’s bad assness flashback and narrative)
Part 03.01 - here (iggy tsundereness and first encounters)
Part 03.02 - here (Carriedo’s letter et.al.)
Chapter Summary:
Is he smiling at her?
The only time Arthur’s retinue will see him in his nicer moments will be when he gets to talk to his supernatural friends or when he is around his children, the latter which does not happen very often now days. They are starting to develop their own sense of independence, something that Arthur always fears-
Is that why he is warming up to Filipinas? The mischief, the mayhem and the wild goose chase-all things she made him put up with, and it’s even barely a week they have known each other!
Probably he is missing the good old days he used to spend with Mr. Jones and sees that in Filipinas.
-
Part 04 - love story
Back in the Walled City
Five Minutes...
Five long minutes of undisturbed silence, nothing but the sound of the clock ticking can be heard as Arthur Kirkland impatiently taps his fingers on Antonio's office desk. Across the table and few feet in front of him sat the stubborn Maria, who is looking at him like he have grown an extra head. Two soldiers accosted her in the room; both are now standing guard behind her. Beside Arthur are Dawson Drake and a high-ranking officer. They both don't look so pleased.
Arthur cannot take it any more, he spoke, trying to restrain the urge to scream at her. "Aren't you going to say anything, little miss?!"
"Si!" she replied, pointing out at him. "What happened to one of your caterpillar eyebrows, Senor?"
"What happened to my eyebrows is none of your business!" he shot back, standing up and slamming his fists on the table angrily. Of all the things the little brat have to say! Breathing hard with his face reddening, he added, "And it's JUST eyebrows, it's not caterpillar eyebrows! Remember that!"
"S-sorry, Senor..."
Arthur slumped back at the chair exhaustively, placing one hand on his forehead. It seems that she is no longer intimidated with him, either or that or she is naturally stupid. Is she not aware of the consequences of what is going to happen to her? Why did she escape and WILLINGLY let herself get caught? Why?
Dawson stepped up and opened his mouth, but the blonde halted him with one hand before he can say a word. Wearily, he glanced up again.
Maria is still staring back at him.
"Now tell me Maria, why did you escape this time?"
She is not going to tell him everything. "I got hungry...I decided to go outside and buy bread."
"Absolute balderdash!" the governor spat, talking in their tongue so the young colony cannot understand. "The soldiers said she was seen running and getting dragged about by a reckless youth who got away!"
"Dawson! I told you to..." he frowned, "--reckless youth?"
"A young strapping lad--" he said dryly, "they just caught a short glimpse of him, but it looks like one of our own."
"Probably one of the deck hands intermingling with the locals, sir." the officer added. He noticed that his superior is growing increasingly red.
"S-sir?"
"P-please fetch me a glass of water."
It's going to be a long day.
"Hey! That's were Papa keeps his fruit basket!" Maria reacted, when the officer went over a set of glassware and reached for a pitcher and a wine glass. It was then she noticed the room was slightly renovated; her Papa's things were set aside to make way for the El diablo blanco's things. "Where are his tomatoes? Nobody moves his tomatoes!" She stands up, looking anxiously on the walls. She gasped at what she saw.
"You put down Papa's conquistador portrait and replaced it with yours?!"
"Well, your Papa isn't here now, is he?" Arthur inhaled deeply, saying the words thru clenched teeth. Her attention span is starting to remind him of someone. "Like what I said yesterday Maria, while your dear father is away, I will be the one in charge!"
Angrily, he snatched the glass of water from the officer and gulped it down quickly. Wiping his mouth, he continued, "Dawson here have been telling me that you are lying."
"No!"
"The soldiers told him that they saw you getting dragged about by a young lad, one of our own." he said slowly, "You can't lie through that, don't you?"
She didn’t respond immediately.
“Well?”
“He helped me with my food basket.” She answered quietly, praying that Arthur won’t inquire more on the man’s identity as she continues on.
“He-wanted to show me something, I wasn’t able to keep up and fell. He panicked when he saw the soldiers, and probably ran away with my food.”
“Dawson, did the soldiers see any food basket?”
“Y-yes, they do Admiral. The lad took it.”
He looked at her again; this time the blonde stood up and starts to scrutinize her slowly. Maria is starting to be uncomfortable. Arthur felt there is something else she is not telling him. Something was left out. Those young deckhands, if they’re not cleaning the ships, they’re causing trouble among the locals.
His eyes narrowed, “-What else happened, Maria? Did he touch you?”
“H-ha?”
“What?!” his retinue reacted.
“-Did he touch you, inappropriately?”
“No!” she blushed, “No, No Señor! He just grabbed me by the arm and that isn’t inappropriate!”
“Is it? That’s not what I know of!”
“He didn’t touch me at my special places if that’s what you mean!” she blurted out irritatingly, a dash of red growing across her face. “-I told you, Señor! It’s just my arm!”
Arthur’s untouched eyebrow twitched, so all this poppycock Carriedo wrote-
He revealed two sheets of paper in hand, “That’s not what your Papa told me.”
Her eyes widened, suddenly her awkward behavior disappeared and she jumped up to her feet. Arthur quickly lifted it up, before she can snatch it away with her small hands.
“Papa wrote a letter?! Give it to me!”
“It’s not for you, Maria. It’s addressed to me.” He told her calmly, getting irritated, as Maria won’t stop jumping. “He already knew what happened.”
“Is Papa coming to my rescue then?” she asked, struggling to reach for the pages. Arthur have to step back as he can already feel her arms latching on him as he tries to get a hold of them. The more he tried to keep it away from her, the more she stubbornly persisted, grabbing his shirt and elbowing him on the face as she struggles to get it.
“Maria!” he shouted angrily, causing her to jump back a little. “Where are your manners? I’m not a bloody tree that you can climb on!”
“But--!” she squeaked, straining herself as she tiptoed forward. “It’s from Papa! I want to know what’s in it!”
“Your Papa is not going to rescue you any time soon!” he snapped back, looking straight into those wide brown eyes of hers. “He is busy! He
wants me to look after you!”
“H-he didn’t say that!”
“Yes he did, he wrote a set of rules.” He stated, finally giving her the second page of the letter. Maria snatched it, it’s clearly in his handwriting and she recognized the words. Her heart sank. Arthur took the letter it quickly before she’s able to read the rest of it. “Maria, it’s not like your Father wanted this to happen, he simply does not have any choice in the situation. Of course, he still wants you back.”
“I see…”
He strode back to his desk, folding his hands neatly behind his back. “Even if he didn’t wrote me that letter, I still assume full responsibility for my actions.” He sat down and placed the Spaniard’s letters on the desk and placed it in a drawer. “And like what I said yesterday young lady, while I’m here I will be your father surrogate-I will be the one whose going to be in charge.” He sat down, leaning back against the chair.
“Today, you cleverly sneaked out the citadel-“
“Casa.” She corrected him.
“Yes, casa.” He frowned, rubbing his temples “-and went past the best of my guards so you can just buy some bloody bread. You know you can ask my permission, don’t you? Unless running away is what you really wanted.”
“No.” she replied curtly, “I really just want to buy bread outside. I missed them in mornings.”
He leaned forward, the news that her father won’t be able to rescue her immediately have quieted her down.
“Maria, you know it won’t hurt to ask.”
She didn’t reply.
He sighed.
"I can’t overlook this, do you know how worried we were? And how much trouble you gave my men, combing the streets for you?! There are going to be consequences for your actions." he said, reaching out at a small long box he placed underneath a drawer. He opened it gently, but not revealing the content inside of her. It contains a wooden paddle. He can see the expression in the faces of his men change. He used to hit Alfred with it as a child when he goes overboard (which is most of the time), and unfortunately, he is now too big for that. That inconsiderate upstart needs lot of whacking-and most likely, at the head.
"I need to discipline you as well, meaning I have to punish you." he looked up, breaking it to her gently. Keeping in mind Carriedo's rules. "I also do this to all my children if they misbehave. Don't take it personally, all right?"
"I'm ready for it, Senor." she swallowed hard, clenching her tiny fists. "I know the consequences and I accept it."
"Good." He replied glancing back at the box as he slowly took out the paddle. He never punished a young girl before using a wooden paddle. Arthur starts to think twice about it and he felt like a brute, even if the paddle is thin and hollow. He will try not to hit her so hard. All he has to do is get her to bend over the table, give her a few taps on her behind and the deed is done.
He felt awkward striking her behind.
He looked up again, noticing the surprised look at the soldiers’ faces. He almost leaps back in surprise when he find Maria in front of him, trying to lie face down at the desk!
"Oh what the-- what on God's name are you doing?!" he gasped, "Maria! I'm just going to strike you at your behind, not behead you!"
"This is how Papa does it..." she mumbled.
Arthur can feel his face heating up. He remembered when he caught Maria from the mango tree, she was begging him not to hit her and out of fear, she slipped and referred to him as her Father.
He now starts to question his rival's disciplining methods.
"I'm sorry gentlemen, but I request that you all must leave."
"S-sir?"
"Just stay outside the room."
Reluctantly the uniformed men left. As soon as the door quietly closed, Arthur turned back to Maria. She is still lying down without a word on top of the desk. As he moved closer, he can hear her sobbing quietly. The poor girl is scared to death.
"Get up!" he ordered her, slapping her slightly at the back. "This is absurd, I won't have you lying like this on a table!"
She turned her head around slowly, her eyes transfixed at the wooden paddle he is still holding. He almost forgot about it and quickly tossed it aside.
She still didn't budge.
Is she really waiting for it?
Arthur placed his hands over his hips and lets out a sigh, tilting his head low. "How exactly does your Papa discipline you, Maria?"
"Well...he..." she choked, painfully recalling it as she shifted her eyes. "He will make me lie down on a couch or on this table, he will take out his heavy leather belt and whip me..." she fiddled with her fingers, avoiding his green gaze. "He will whip me on my behind and on my legs..."
"Whip you..." Arthur repeated. He cannot believe what he is hearing. "how many times?"
"...until he gets tried. Sometimes until I pass out."
Silence
His jaw nearly dropped. Arthur cannot keep it to himself any more. "Your Papa is such a savage brute, is he?”
She looked up to him, Maria looked surprised. “No he isn’t! Not all the time!”
“He isn’t?” he reacted, “He beats you up, knowing fully well he have the unfair advantage, on how big he is and how small you are-and you are a female! Unless there is really a reason for him to beat you like that!”
Maria slowly shifted her body and placed her feet on the ground. “He does not want me to go outside, Señor Kirkland.” She confessed,
“Everything I do, I have to sought Papa’s permission. There are times he allows me, but most of the time he does not. One of them is going outside in long periods of time-”
“Well then, how do yo-“
“Guardia Sibils-they have to escort me all the time.” She said abruptly, knowing well Arthur will wonder how she does her chores outside. “Papa-he told me it’s for my own good, but all I ever wanted was to have some time to enjoy myself and interact freely with people!”
“He is being very protective.” Arthur said, “You are his only daughter after all-his unica hija.”
“Y-yes.”
“Well I think it’s stupid.”
“W-what?”
Arthur folded his arms across his chest, “He is restricting you, that’s what he is doing. How will you know how the world works when he keeps you hidden behind these walls?”
“Señor, are you being concerned?”
“You’re bloody right I am!” he snapped, “Your city’s defense is poor, everything seems out dated even in your father’s standards! He tried to keep you away so much that he neglected the only thing that it’s meant to protect you!”
Think of it as a learning experience.
“You are going to teach me then?”
“Yes!” he answered quickly, looking flustered, then turning red a little.
She is starting to smile.
At least he managed to make her smile once again. It’s even barely lunch time and all this fiasco have already happened: While slowly getting insane figuring out what to give her, she ran away to buy food leading everyone into this wild goosechase. He nicked one of his eyebrows when the news of her capture arrived. When he was about to punish her lightly, he learned more than what he needs to know.
He hits her till she passes out, hm? Not very civilized of you, Carriedo.
He sighed, approaching her and crouching on the floor. Arthur reached out at both of her arms tenderly.
He broke the first rule.
“Señor!”
“Your father have his own set of rules and I also have my own.” Arthur said softly, rubbing her palms. “First, no secrets. I am a man with an open mind and I listen to reason. You tell me what you have in mind and I’ll see how we can work it out.”
“O-okay.”
“Second, discipline. I will only instill corporal punishment when it’s necessary. I won’t hit you unless you can fully explain to me the reason for your actions and with this you are fully aware of the consequences!”
“Y-you are going to strike me with the paddle, I understand!”
“No-“ he paused, remembering what she said about how Antonio whips her with his belt. “Not anymore-but I will strike your palms with a thick stick! 20 strikes if you misbehave!”
She gulped.
“Third, always tell Dawson your whereabouts, he will be the acting governor while I’m here, so we will all know where to find you.”
He saw her face lit up. “Yes Maria, I will give you some amount of freedom to interact with the locals-no guards to follow you around. The guardia sibils can’t do anything about it, I’m in control now. But be reminded, since I’m now the one in charge, they do their rounds around the city and the streets.”
“T-thank you! Thank you very much!”
He blushed, ignoring her and continues.
“Fourth, you have to assist me in all my projects and endeavors. I want you to show me around Maria, in kind I will help you improve the livelihood of your city. You won’t feel like you’re a captive of your own land.”
“Just don’t try to hurt any of my people!”
“-and don’t run away, again!”
“Y-yes, I won’t!”
“And lastly, the fifth-“ he paused, he hated to say this, he felt like sounding like the tomato pervert. “Never fall in love with any one of my own, Maria.”
She felt her heart drop, if he only knew.
He really can't explain it; it's probably the only thing that the Conquistador wrote that they could unanimously agree on, even if it's not written on paper. And for some unknown reason, he can't shake out the imagery of his own brat with the Spaniard's fiery little daughter. It was like he is subconsciously pairing them together!
Is he even thinking that with her high-spirited nature she will be a suitable match for his hyperactive little...?
No!
She is still Antonio's daughter!
Why is he even remembering one of his literary greats best plays?
“Two empires, both alike in dignity. In fair Europe lay our scene.” He mumbled, his gaze drifting into space. “A pair of star-crossed lovers…”
"Never fall in love..." she repeated, looking worried. She then heard him say something else. "Senor, is the heat getting in your head? You need to eat something!"
"Huh?! Nothing! It's gibberish!" he perked up, realizing he is talking to himself. Oh Bollocks, it might be the heat and the hunger. He turned blue, feeling awkward and tried to clear his throat and continued his sentence.
"What I mean was...never fall in love...I mean not now. Not now, Maria--not during the tumultuous times. When you are ready, when you're already independent...express it when there is no one holding you back any more."
Independent. What is he saying? It's one word they all dread, it kills them to see their children grow up...but it will also kill them faster if they don't. Arthur facepalmed, he hoped he didn't give Maria any ideas.
"You...understand what I meant right?"
"I will try to, Senor Kirkland." she replied, remembering her last encounter with Alfred. She will try to temper her feelings once she gets re-acquainted with the young fair-haired son of Arthur Kirkland, her father's rival. "I will try my best, not to fall in love...for now."
"That's a good girl." He smiled warily, patting her on the head and finally standing up. Arthur let out a stiff grunt as he felt the knobs of knees tick and his back made some crackling sounds. He hasn’t properly rested for almost two weeks since he launched his invasion in Maria's walled city, he can already feel the fatigue. He sneezed. "And one more thing...since I will be in charge in looking after you..." he rubbed his nose with a handkerchief, looking uncomfortable, "--you can address me as your 'Papa'."
That's when Maria frowned, pouting her little mouth. "I'm sorry but I cannot do that, Senor!" she objected. "I have only one Papa, Senor Kirkland. He might be overprotective, but still, he is the one who named and raised me!"
"Alright. Then just address me with your formalities." he sighed, "--and speaking of names, we need to give you an appropriate nickname. Maria is an all common first name here in this archipelago, correct?"
Maria nodded.
He rubbed his fingers, trying to find the right words to say. "How about..mmm salome consu...consu.." Damn it, that wanker likes to give
incredibly long and difficult names to pronounce. "Sal..how about Sally?!"
Maria suddenly bursts out laughing; it was so loud that it startled the soldiers and the officers waiting outside.
"What is the Admiral doing?" The officer commented, "Punishing her through tickling?"
"He is getting her to trust him." Dawson replied, "He won't deliver corporal punishment without any justifiable reason. You know how Sir Kirkland is." he continued, "He is trying to get to know her well."
"That's clever, through that we will learn how the mind of our greatest enemy works."
"Not really..."
Arthur gave her a bewildered look as Maria held on her stomach, rubbing her eyes off happy tears. It was a good laugh and he wondered why, and what seems so funny. Sally does not translate to anything ridiculous in Spanish...
Like Father, Like Son!
Maria cannot help herself; it's the same nickname even Alfred came up for her. But of course he does not know that and she does not want him to know.
"I demand to know what's so funny!" he frowned, his brows furrowing. "Is Sally such a strange nickname for you?"
"S-Senor, the young deckhand who helped me--" she spoke, trying to regain composure. "He also commented on my long name, he also nicknamed me Sally!"
"Oh I see then, well did you get his name?"
"N-no?"
"Hmm, that’s okay. At least, you are smiling now."
She blushed.
--
It probably took about an hour the most before Arthur finally opened the door, appearing to be in good spirits as he told his men to come inside. He is usually frowning, making Dawson and the others wonder what exactly happened. He did punish her, didn’t he?
When they went inside, they saw Maria having a handful of those small breads-pan de sal as she calls them, it seems that she spared some when she fell down at the ground. Arthur happens to be eating one of them. So she isn't lying after all.
"Dawson, Sally and I have worked on an agreement." he munched, leaning at the desk. His attention got diverted. “Oh goodness, I never tasted bread this great! It had that right amount of sweetness and saltiness in it!”
“Muchas gracias! Papa taught me and my people!”
Arthur nearly choked on the bread.
She giggled, “-don’t you have good bread from where you’re from, Señor? I heard from Papa the pastries there are superb!”
His brows furrowed as he took another bite. That will be the frog’s undeniably good cuisine. “Of course we have good bread-I make scones.”
“Scones? What’s it’s like? Can you bake it here?”
He recalled one of Antonio's rules. Arthur grimaced, remembering how he nearly poisoned some local diplomats when he served them his food. He thought they were exaggerating. The only one who seems immune to his cooking is Alfred. Or maybe he is just too embarrassed to offend him
“N-no, but I can try teaching you…”
Dawson gaped; the pleasant exchange is disturbing him. “Sally? Sweet Bread?! Sir! What’s going on?! What is this?”
"Dawson, I wrote some guidelines on how we are going to run things around here. Every man under my command have to abide by it." The blonde replied calmly, finishing the small bread, handing him out a sheet of paper. “It’s short, practical and nothing like the lengthy treatment that Spaniard wrote.”
“Sir-“
“Anything wrong?”
“It seems a little too lenient.”
“Would you prefer going through this then?” he frowned slightly, waving him Antonio’s list. “-Combing Maria’s hair every night, under the watch of an assigned guard…play a musical instrument before she sleeps…”
The acting governor quickly shook his head, “Admiral, I’m here to foresee and watch over a colony for the glory of your great empire. Watch! Not baby sit!”
“Yes, how unfortunate you don’t have that responsibility.”
He gave the Admiral a confused look and the other men in the room exchanged wary glances. Is he really losing his mind? What kind of conversation did they have in that room that made him so-
Is he smiling at her?
The only time Arthur’s retinue will see him in his nicer moments will be when he gets to talk to his supernatural friends or when he is around his children, the latter which does not happen very often now days. They are starting to develop their own sense of independence, something that Arthur always fears-
Is that why he is warming up to Filipinas? The mischief, the mayhem and the wild goose chase-all things she made him put up with, and it’s even barely a week they have known each other!
Probably he is missing the good old days he used to spend with Mr. Jones and sees that in Filipinas.
Or maybe he felt bad seizing the Conquistador’s daughter’s vital regions.
Oh god, wait, that right there, sounds so wrong.
“D-don’t touch the Admiral’s things!” he called out, as Arthur allowed her to go through one of his bags.
“Don’t worry, Dawson. I’m just lending her one of my books. The ones that comes with Spanish translations on the back pages-“
He worriedly looked over Arthur’s shoulder; Dawson saw what seems to be the copy of William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. She curiously skimmed through the pages before tucking it under her arm.
He cannot take it any more.
“Sir, if this is out of guilt-“
“That wanker does not know one damn bloody thing on disciplining children.” Arthur abruptly cuts in, “He just likes adopting as many as he can, like he is just collecting tomatoes in a basket. Quantity over quality-does not guarantee his superiority in this world.”
“Meaning?”
“I can be a better parent to this child than he ever could be.”
--
November 1762
Walled City
Dear Journal,
It’s been nearly a month since I set foot in Manila and still, Dawson keeps on fretting and will not let me hear the end of it. I already explained to him and to my advisors that Filipinas and I have come up with a mutual agreement-she will concede to my wishes, follow my rules-in return, I will teach her everything she wants to know about me. Just enough to sate her curiosity-and not too much for her to question the world at large. The world-is a very complex place for her to understand. Maybe give her a couple of centuries more, in due time, she will know.
I tried teaching Sally my culture, I told her that all she have to do is observe me-she have taken it to heart and by the time I’m up, she is done
nearly half of her morning chores and she will follow me for the rest of the day.
For example, while I was making plans to rebuild one of their badly constructed bridges, she wanted to know how it’s done in my place.
“Won’t stone bridges take it longer?”
“But it will be much better, Sally. That’s what matters.”
“With Papa it will take ages for anything that solid to be built-you’re building it in an amazing rate, Señor!”
“Well, we don’t have time for siesta. It’s a great waste of time. And of all things your Papa have to-”
She frowned.
“Ow!”
Or when she observes my afternoon breaks, she wants to know how can I have my fill with tea and biscuits. But there she is, eating at least six times a day and she is not getting any taller. Where does she put it all in?
“Sir Kirkland, come and join me!”
“Sally, I told you-no! Every time I pass by here every two hours you are always nibbling something and offering me food! Don’t you have anything productive to do during weeke-“
“-Sir…”
“Oh my god, Sally! Did you just address me as Sir? You can now speak in English? You can? She can now speak English! She can now speak English!!”
“Señor, I’m just practicing!”
When it comes to table manners and etiquette, there is no question-Carriedo did taught her the basics, I showed her how it’s really done in my place. It was no easy feat for someone who hasn’t known much of the outside world except her Father’s culture-yet she picks it up quickly the first time.
“I extend my pinky like so!”
“Y-yes. Wait-I haven’t thought you that yet!”
“O-oh!”
But she have lapses (when I'm not around), she have this notorious habit of folding one leg up the chair and sometimes she eats with her bare hands.
"You are not a monkey, place that one foot down!"
"B-but!"
"Have this become a habit when I'm not around to have dinner with you?"
"No, Senor! I'm just taking merienda...! It’s casual! I don’t need fine plates to enjoy it!"
"M-merienda? It's almost 6 pm! You will spoil your appetite!"
"I woke up late from my siesta, I'm sorry!"
"Your Papa didn't teach you much when it comes to etiquette department, didn't he? That's not how a young lady eats!"
"He really don't mind if I eat with my bare hands! He eats his tomatoes that way! And as long as I don't...get to expose much skin."
“This is not about eating like a primitive! You are showing a whole new world under your skirt, does not that count?”
"S-Senor Kirkland?"
"Yes?"
"You are ten times better than any of the governesses Papa have assigned to watch me!"
"..."
She is learning the English language fast, which bothers some of my constituents in fear that she will understand our conversations. I told them, that any matters involving the world affairs must not be talked inside the Casa. It will complicate things.
But I would be lying if I say, I’m not enjoying this experience-teaching a young one, it’s been sometime since I ever mentored someone.
“I have to admit Sally, It’s much easier getting you to wear something nice than having to wake you up in the afternoons.”
“Why señor? Don’t your other children like to wear nice clothes?”
“I tried-they keep on complaining it’s too formal for them. Heh, boys.”
“It’s different with women, Señor. We love to dress up!”
Now where was I, Ah yes, she is learning fine table manners better than we all expected- and she can cook a few of my recipes pretty well. I cannot forget the look on the soldiers' faces: they looked like they would rather go off to another war than taste her cooking-when she told them she based the recipe off my cuisine. Seriously, is it that bad? How did they survive living in my regions when that’s what they eat all the time? At any rate, they nearly cried manly tears of joy when they tasted Sally’s version.
Now I’m wondering, and she have heard me say it out loud, if she have a fairy godmother teaching her.
But so far, I haven’t seen manifestation of any kind and she told me she don't have those kind of supernatural entities, her Papa tried to make her stop seeing them...which I find rather appalling, it's part of her culture, her origins, even before he discovered her. That git always use his religion to conquer territories and brainwash young boys so he can seize-- I mean confuse children. Nevermind, just thinking of that pervert and his shamless golden physique makes my blood boil.
Sally opened up to me that she could still see enchanted beings, when I told her how I have my own as regular companions. She told me, this might explain why she keeps seeing a white horse with a horn romping around ‘like a dream’-as she describes it, every time I take a nap on my work desk.
...it’s a unicorn.
Damn it, why do they manifest themselves to Sally and only shows up when I’m taking nap breaks?
Oh well.
I can’t help myself, I tire easily because of the archipelago’s humidity-my cough won’t go away and now and then I will have the case of the sniffles. How I hate to remember Antonio Carriedo’s words-getting the case of flu, sweltering like an over ripe tomato in a hot summer afternoon in July.
But he is not here, is he? Maybe he have forgotten about his little girl.
“Kuya Alfred, there you are!”
He never wrote again after I sent him my own terms on how I will run things in Sally’s house in exchange that I concede with his rules how to watch over his unica hija.
“You are late, Sally! You know I can’t go anywhere. So how did it go?”
I forgot, he always rubs it in that he has lots of children to look after and he is in a mission to save them from ‘my sick clutches’.
“Kuya, you managed to get comfortable here and built your own bloody tree house in one of my trees! I think you can do something else while waiting for me!”
“Wow, you are now picking up English faster than I thought!”
“Um-“
“No need to thank me, Sally. And yes, I’m working on something while I was waiting for you. Here, let me show you!”
I regretted that I left out that small detail, removing his men’s authority towards Sally-and how I enjoyed seeing them helplessly watch her go unescorted, enjoying the freedom and a childhood that she deserves for her age.
“It’s called a swing! I latched it at one of the tree’s heavy branches! Want me to boost you up on it?”
“I don’t need-boosting!”
“I mean, let me carry you! It’s a bit high-“
My men of course do their rounds, keeping themselves within a safe distance: enough to give her space, but close enough in any time she thinks of escaping. Which until today and fortunately, she haven’t done yet. It seems she is satisfied with the arrangement.
“A-ay! No! Kuya Alfred!”
“What’s wrong? I did ask permission to boost you up, didn’t I?”
“Don’t use new words to me! You can just say you are going to car-oh!”
“You like it? Here, let me push you a little harder!”
“Oh-! Oh…“
Rather, I never heard Sally complain anything with the arrangement since last month. Which I really find kind of strange-
“T-this is, in your words Kuya, awesome! Push me harder!”
“See? You like it, don’t you? So um, that means I can skip on those Spanish lessons now? Because I didn’t finish the short story about some legend you want me to read-”
“No!”
“Oh, darn it!”
“-and you are not supposed to put adobo in that pandesal!”
And she have been skipping her siesta break sometimes too. I think I should be happy that she is out there, being productive and toiling till the sun sets rather than sleeping indoors during afternoons..
“I will make something awesome out of this some day!”
“Kuya, don’t change the topic. You teach me your language and I help you understand mine--”
“I overslept yesterday, sorry! How about I teach you how we dance instead? I know you love dancing! Every young lady has to!”
“S-sure, we are already getting to that stage anyway. Your father told me he taught me all that I need to know with table manners and proper decorum.”
“-and also thanks to me too! Right? Right?”
“Yes! And I thought you were joking Kuya when I have to balance a book on my head!”
“Heheh, he does that to teach you good posture, it might help you grow taller too-it’s never too late!”
“Kuya!”
“Ow! Not with the mangoes again!”
Maybe I’m thinking too much. It’s almost evening-I will write more on my progress with Filipinas later, it’s been an entire month and there is a lot I need to take note of. I hope she won’t be late for dinner like last night. Till my next entry.
Arthur Kirkland.
It was late afternoon, the warm breeze slowly cools down the earth as the sun slowly sets from the horizon. It has been their arrangement--Alfred, the fair-haired exuberant run away 'son' of the nation who ruled the Seas, and Maria, the free-spirited Conquistador's daughter; to meet up every time she finishes her work routine during the mornings. The agreement Arthur have imposed on her have given her enough freedom to meet up with the young man, who have taken himself into semi-hiding by the outskirts of the local barrio not far from the walled city. He somehow managed to adapt himself to the surroundings, even enjoying the fact he gets to experience the 'great outdoors' while getting to observe a whole new culture.
In return for her kindness and hospitality, Alfred F.Jones tutors her all that he have learned under Arthur's tutelage. Language, etiquette, culture--
Maria gently set her footing down from the makeshift swing. "You know, Kuya. You never taught me anything about father's cuisine."
He scratched his head sheepishly, "Umm... but I always love your interpretation of his cooking though!"
"Is it that bad?" she asked, reaching inside her small basket and underneath thin layers of fabrics, hid reading pharapernalias and more food.
"Because if you have seen the faces of his men--"
"I-it's tolerable."
But certainly not much when it comes to the Englishman's food.
"Anyway!" Alfred clapped his hands, rubbing them excitedly. "Why don't you put that book down so I can teach you how to dance?"
“J-just a minute!”
He moved a little closer; Maria is not paying attention to him as she sifted few pages of the book.
He quickly snatched it from her and she gasped in surprise.
"Romeo and Juliet?" Alfred frowned, reciting the words in the first initial pages.
"Two empires, both alike in dignity. In fair Europe lay our scene-"
"Senor Kirkland lent that to me!" she reacted, trying to grab it furiously from the blonde's grip. She hates it when both father and son uses height to their advantage. She was blushing red, "--it's the only copy he have with side-by-side Spanish translation!"
"Hmm, Why does it come with a Spanish translation?"
"I don't know!"
"Meh, the story here ends in tragedy. Don't finish it, it's depressing!"
"K-kuya! Don't throw it away!"
Alfred tossed the book carelessly on the ground as Maria tried to catch it, "Why would you do that? I'm still reading it...and it's your Papa's book!"
"The story is tragic-they both die in the end, do you know that?”
For the first time in several weeks, Alfred sounds serious. “As they tried to defy their families, they bring tragedies to themselves-seriously! What kind of a fairy tale does not have a happy ending?!”
“It’s a romantic literary piece! Not a fairy tale!” she argued, “Fairy tales-does not have endings.”
“-ahh.”
“Now you already spoiled it for me!” she frowned, “N-now I cannot finish it any more! And you seem affected with it-why?”
“I don’t really-know.”
Why is he affected anyway?
Two empires- warring empires…
“Oh, Sally-you still want to learn how to dance? You are a fast learner, it won’t take long!“
“Okay then, but after this you will learn how to read the short story that I gave you.”
“Darn it!”
“I cannot believe you, Kuya! You and my hermano are neighbors yet you can’t understand basic Spanish!”
“W-what’s the story again?”
“Legend of the Sampaguita.”
--
December 1762
Walled City
Dear Journal,
I learned from Sally that the Christmas season is observed here as early as September, which might have explained all those star shaped lanterns when I arrived and those bloody bothersome children playing their guitars and tambourines every night asking for money! Sally will tell me this is the reason why she will leave sometimes in late evenings to attend night masses and Dawson won’t believe her, thinking she is just coming up excuses just so she can escape my singing while I play the piano every dinner time-a joke which I don’t find funny. I told the man he will eat my cooking shall he make fun of it again.
She made dramatic improvements for the past few weeks. Ever since last month, I told her to start a journal in English, write things she would want to say to her Papa. Not only is she learning how to write well, it will serve as a therapy for her-and my chance to learn how that fruit treats his daughter.
“You want me to keep them?”
“You are bound to read it anyway, Señor. I saw you sifting in my study table this morning!”
“…”
“I think it’s also for the best-if he comes back and finds this, he will get mad at me.”
“Your Papa haven’t written for awhile, Maria. It won’t be any time soon.”
“Last night, Señor-I overheard the conversation you have with the Gobernador when you came down to take your cough medicine-”
“You didn’t hear anything! It does not concern you, so stay out of it!”
“…”
“I’m sorry, I forgot you are not used to-”
“I-I think I will go out and get some fresh air, Señor…”
“Maria-I mean, Sally!“
I also almost forgot that Sally is not used to my bluntness, but it’s hard to be in the holiday spirit these days. Probably next month, I have to give her up-after all, this war, one way or another-have to end. We win some, we lose some.
I’m also getting highly suspicious of her activities these days, it’s not enough she keeps on ignoring me-but food rations is depleting in such a fast rate and she have been spending a lot of time washing her clothes at the nearby creek.
I can’t ask her about it. Actually, I did try, but I found her wearing nothing but her thick long skirt wrapped up to her chest that I slipped at one of the mossy rocks there and I have to limp back to the Casa to nurse a sprain ankle.
Antonio must really be putting a hex on me with those bloody rules of his. I don’t mean to observe her in hiding.
One of these days, I will try to follow her discreetly to see what she’s been up to.
Arthur Kirkland
Arthur sniffed, drinking a warm glass of what Maria claims as a good remedy for flu-like symptoms-calamansi juice. Placing a wet cold compress on his forehead, he looked up and saw her sneaking out from the hallway.
“What are you taking out, Sally? You have to show me or Dawson first before-”
“Just some-laundry.”
“You still don’t want to talk to me, don’t you?”
“I need to dry them outside-“
“You can have it hanging in the backyard! It’s very ho-haacchooo!” he sneezed. “I mean, too hot outside!”
“Señor! Your cough and flu never left since you arrived, you should be taking care of yourself! Don’t worry about me!”
“If you say so.”
As Maria turned around, something caught the blonde’s eye: a long pale-blue sleeve and a part of a vest. This alarmed him, since the young female never wash anything but her own clothing. As soon as she was out of the Casa, he discreetly followed her, trying to keep himself hidden to see where she is going.
It was also a peculiar sight for his men, to see the proud Arthur Kirkland stealth about behind walls and carts as he followed the unsuspecting young female go about town. They think the heat is making him lose his mind.
He wondered why Sally would go so far to have her clothes dried.
He waited until she went into the wooden outskirts by the nearby barrio, where he first found her.
She went deeper within the trees and shrubs. He heard faint rustlings of leaves, dried branches being stepped on and voices-
He waited for several minutes, trying to listen to what he is hearing.
She is not alone?
“You know, I want to see my old man dance to tinikling.” Came a distinct male voice, eating his words as he took a bite on whatever he was eating. “I mean-the etiquette training he placed you through!”
“I-it’s a folkdance, Kuya! Not a method of torture!” she argued, “And please be still if you want me to cut your hair!”
“I can’t believe I’m having it cut-I never really wanted to, to be honest with you.” He continued, “I mean it’s my only source of disguise, but the heat is really killing me!”
“Yes, so I have heard a number of times!”
“But pops will surely be relieved that I will get rid of it once and for all.”
“I’m glad you think so-“
“Aw, c’mon Sally. Don’t be a sour puss! Cheer up! Maybe he will explain things to you in due time!”
“How can a puss be sour? You are weird!”
“Just come here, a little closer!”
“Kuya! What are you--!”
That voice is very frighteningly familiar.
The topic the man is talking about is very VERY frighteningly familiar.
It was almost sound he was like-
Arthur cannot contain himself any more when he heard Maria gasp softly. That’s not a gasp of surprise; he knows that kind of sound! It’s a kind of sound females make if the opposite sex takes an aggressive stance in flirting with them!
He then decided to surprise the couple and leaped out of the clearing.
Alfred F. Jones.
He was staring at him with those wide-clear blue eyes of his-frozen in shock. He was holding Maria’s small face while planting a playful kiss on her cheek to cheer her up-and it’s a kind of physical contact that she never experienced before. She was bright red, but as she followed Alfred’s frightened gaze the color immediately left her face.
Rule no. 10 - Never let her fall in love
It’s a bad dream. A bad dream-it could be the heat, yes.
How can Alfred be here, how did he arrive from half-way around the world?
How did Maria even-?
How long have they been?
It took Arthur several seconds to recover from the initial shock.
“Y-YOU!” he screamed, pointing his finger accusingly on the couple, who quickly unlatched themselves from each other. He cannot find the proper words to hurl at his wayward son.“YOU!”
“Oh, crap-“
“S-Señor Kirkland!”
--
Because I'm such a cockblocker
To be continued to the real final part 4.02
I feel so awful when I keep saying this is the final part but geez +_+ well this time I'm reallyyy serious. I don't expect Iggy's letters will take that much space (and that's with re-editing in LJ for an hour + page limit) Also vivalalixi if you are reading this. I will post the rest of this Sunday evening D8 please feel free to kick me.
Also this post delay is brought to you by external factors in real life @_@ and an annoying sister/kin/blood relatives who wouldn't leave me aloneeeee whyyyyy