Chapter 3
Previously: The Rose of Whitby – Chapter 2
Arthur lands on his hands and knees, retching, into… are those flowers? Their stems are dense and scratchy against his palms, and underneath there is warm dirt, and everything is covered in purple flowers.
He almost wipes his mouth with his sleeve, then remembers the fancy clothes he’s wearing, spits against the taste of bile and uses his hand instead, wipes that on the plants and dirt. All he had all day was water, so it’s not so bad.
He lifts his head and looks around.
There are no houses. He’s never seen anything like this- hills, covered in purple flowers as far as the eye can see. Blue sky. The air smells… different. Watery, somehow.
How…? Why…? Where…?
Where’s Gregory? Oh, yes, there, a little to his left, he’s sitting up in the flowers. He looks around, then gives Arthur an unsure smile when he sees him.
Arthur staggers to his feet, and sees the splash of red dress and red hair next to Gregory that is the girl he was carrying. She’s stirring.
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When Darcy comes to again, she knows immediately something is wrong, terribly wrong. The air, it’s the air! That’s not how air is supposed to smell.
Eyes springing open she screams again because this isn’t her room. She isn’t in her room. She can’t be not in her room. She needs to be in her room. She… wants to be in her room!
There’s open air above her, the sky, not from behind a set of bars on her window, this is terrifying!
Scrambling she feels something give under her hands and stares down. Flowers, those are flowers, she’s seen them. In her books and she’s had flowers in vases but… growing from the ground. She’s outside, no no no, she can’t be outside! Where is Papa?!
She screams for him and feels only more horror rising when there’s a brown-haired boy approaching her. There’s nothing here she can hide behind. No, what would a boy do with her? Is she…? Is she alone with him?
Frantically looking around it turns out it’s far worse. She’s not alone with him. She’s alone with two young men. She’s ruined!
Tears of bitter rage and fear in her eyes, she completely ignores his words. He tries to talk her into talking to him. Talking?! Has he no manners at all?! They’ve not been introduced and the way he looks, he’s lower class. That’s another stab of fear in her belly; she’s alone with lower-class men. They must have kidnapped her. That’s the only explanation. But she will at least keep her honour, whatever they do to her, she will stick to what she knows is proper, it’s in the books, the books never lie.
~~~~
Well, Arthur thinks, at least the girl isn’t attacking them. Instead she’s hysterical. And he has no idea what to do.
He feels kind of sorry for her, because she’s a girl and she’s alone with them, and that could be very, very bad for her- it could also be very bad for them, because she’s yelling for her ‘Papa’, and Arthur shudders at the idea of another angry father figure- an upper class one, who’s going to have so much reason to have them prosecuted.
Arthur doesn’t want to go to prison. And who knows how bad it could get if they’re accused of attacking a noble girl. They could get executed. He has absolutely no illusions about how favourable a court is going to look on two East End urchins with no money and status and, oh, a parent who’s a convicted necromancer who just broke out of prison with their help.
Why did Gregory have to take her??
When the girl refuses to stop crying, and keeps flinching back from Gregory, and won’t talk to him (Arthur’s pretty sure noble girls aren’t supposed to talk to boys, especially not low-class ones), Gregory walks back over to him.
“Artie,” he says, green eyes big and soulful, “are you okay?”
Arthur can’t help give him a look– how could he possibly be okay? How is anything okay?? But Gregory means well (if it’s Gregory), so Arthur gives him a short “Fine.”
“She won’t talk to me,” Gregory says, and yeah, that was kind of hard to not notice. “Maybe you should try?”
That gets him another look, because… she won’t talk to Gregory and so Arthur should try? Him, talk to someone? And a girl at that? An upset girl?? He hasn’t the faintest idea what you do with an upset girl. Gregory knows about girls, not Arthur!
And also, he hasn’t forgotten the fangs and the claws. He’s not at all keen on getting any closer to her.
So instead, he stands up to take a proper look around. They’re on some kind of hillside- where, he has no idea. And how they got here, he also has no idea. It was magic of some sort, obviously, but whether that’s a good or a bad thing…
“Maybe it was Prince James!” Gregory says when Arthur states as much, visibly brightens up. “He was so cool, wasn’t he, Artie? The way he came swooping in- I wish we could’ve talked to him!”
Arthur is back to giving Gregory looks. There’s just so much wrong with that, he doesn’t know where to start.
“What? I’m sure he’s nice, he’s a hero! Maybe he even would’ve given us a ride with his rocket pack after we explained how we saved her!”
He nods at the girl, who isn’t looking at them and is still crying and doesn’t seem to feel very saved at all to Arthur. And he’s not about to explain to Gregory how the two of them made the prison break possible in the first place in front of her.
“Or maybe you did the magic and just don’t know it!” Gregory merrily continues, and Arthur winces- also not something he would’ve announced in front of a stranger! “Maybe it’s like in one of your books, something weird happens and then you become a hero! You could totally be a hero, Artie- we could be heroes together!”
That just seems like such a load of bollocks to Arthur- Gregory hasn’t the faintest idea how magic works, and Arthur is sure he would’ve damn well noticed if he’d cast a teleportation spell that powerful. …Unless Gregory now knows about magic.
The thought makes Arthur queasy again, and he doesn’t want to think any more about it.
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Darcy has been listening in without looking, and isn’t convinced, either. But maybe? That would be like in one of her books, and books don’t lie? But no, she has to make sure to do this right, because etiquette books also are books and she knows she is not supposed to be anywhere alone with men! Crossing her arms she notices that her dress is sticky, why is her dress sticky? Is that… is that blood?! First she’s outside, then she’s covered in blood, this all makes no sense, no sense at all and she… she just wants her papa, right now!
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As the girl suddenly exclaims and then starts to cry harder again, Gregory gives Arthur a helpless look, then turns back to her and tries once more to talk to her.
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The boy just doesn’t get it! Giving him the cold shoulder again Darcy cries more privately, or tries to, how do you do that when you aren’t in a room? This open sky is still scary. Which is kind of sad, she thinks. She wanted to go outside for so long, she’s never known anything but her room, after all. It’s where she’s been all her life, where Papa kept her safe. Papa explained it all, how she’s very sick, how something is wrong with her blood, so Papa and Uncle Jekyll kept her safe in her room, kept other people safe from her. Maybe those mean kidnappers will die soon because they got close to her? But what does she do then? Then she’s out here all alone and that’s scary too!
~~~~
Hidden in plain sight where their weak human minds can’t spot him, their actual rescuer rolls his eyes as he finally finds them. These people are difficult! Couldn’t they land closer to where he needed them? And the bloodsucker girl is the worst of them all. Right, wasn’t there something about human women? These human rules make as little sense as their behaviour but he has to say, she does have a rather sexy amount of emotional energy. Oh fine, yes, he’ll do what Eluned said. With ease he shifts how they will perceive him, twirls once because dresses are funny, and then walks up from the nearby beach. A cousin to save the day.
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A woman! Darcy is saved! Maybe this is a proper story after all, but that might mean those men are the other protagonists, not some goons to set her up as the damsel for rescue. Hm. She decides it’s too early to decide that and instead tries her hardest to get her etiquette right with the young lady of clearly proper standing. Other people are scary but yes, she knows how to introduce herself properly: She’s Darcy Rose Seward.
~~~~
Gregory was just about to tear off for what appears to be a town, the roofs of houses visible down at the bottom of the hill, when Arthur spots the approaching figure and snags his sleeve. (And he looked ready to run like he never could run before that horrible day, before that horrible thing Arthur did. God only knows whether he would’ve slowed down in time before people saw him, too.)
Of course, when he spots the newcomer, Gregory is quick to step forward, and Arthur’s just fine hanging back behind him- especially since the woman looks fancy. What’s a fancy woman doing out here alone?
Looking for them, it seems, because she claps her hands together, exclaims: “There you are!”, mostly towards Darcy, and then proceeds to introduce herself as “Eluned Westenra,” and she saw them arriving from the window, so she came to get them.
Arthur has about a million questions, but he’s not drawing the attention of the stranger, and Gregory seems to take this explanation that really isn’t any sort of explanation in stride, jumps in to introduce himself just after the girl does- Arthur catches her giving Gregory a side-long look that he doesn’t think Gregory notices, and he’s pretty sure means Gregory’s high society manners are lacking.
Not that manners of any kind ever were Gregory’s strong point.
The thought drives an unexpected pang of grief through Arthur. Because… because he misses his friend. Having Gregory and not knowing whether it’s Gregory is… not at all like it used to be.
The new woman with the strange name, anyway, takes Gregory’s introduction in stride, and then starts fussing over the girl… Darcy, was it?, exclaiming at her dress and how she probably wants to wash up a little before the walk back to the castle.
What castle? …Is that where the window she saw them from is? All of this makes very little sense to Arthur. Gregory, of course is all “She said castle! D’you think we’ll get to see a real castle?!” when the two of them head a few steps off, step down a bank Arthur didn’t notice, and which, by the splashing noises, hides a stream or pond or something.
“Why is there a castle? How does she know about us being here? What does she want? Who is she?” Arthur asks Gregory, and that’s just for a start. Gregory shrugs, then grins brightly at him. “You’ll figure it out!”
Well. Arthur doesn’t think he has much of a choice.
~~~~
Yes, Darcy agrees, she should wash the blood off, no, she isn’t hurt she thinks. Finally relaxing when the woman helps her down towards, oh, it’s a brook going towards the… is that the ocean?! It’s so huge! She’s never seen so much water, the colour is so intense and the air smells so strongly of it, for a moment she forgets her predicament because… because how could you not get absorbed at seeing the ocean for the first time! She wishes Papa was here. She only ever wanted to go out so he could show her things out here. This whole big world is silly and scary without Papa so she shoves the fascination at the ocean away and just gets down to the brook.
Her slippers aren’t made for this, she loses one on the way down, has to pick it up again but at least she doesn’t hurt herself and the water isn’t cold either. There’s no way she’ll get all this blood out of her dress. Why is there so much blood on her dress? Oh no, it soaked through. What is she going to do? And that’s all it takes for her to start crying again.
But papa raised her better than that, so she cleans what she can, gets the stickiness off her face, off her hands, gives up on getting it out from under her nails and really, really hopes there is none in her hair. Papa gave her that dress and she ruined it, ruined her corset, too. No, no, she needs to stop crying, there’s a noble woman next to her, this is unbecoming, so she sniffles quietly through cleaning up a little bit, as best she can, then stares when the Lady Eluned offers her arm. That is so kind of her! Despite how she looks the lady isn’t shying away! But… she can’t, she’s dangerous, her blood disease! Her protest dies down as the lady just takes her arm and walks on, chattering about the weather and flowers. Darcy knows she can’t keep up with such perfect decorum so she just stays quiet and follows obediently.
~~~~
Arthur isn’t at all sure about following the strange noblewoman to that castle, but since the girl, Darcy, is going and Gregory is following… he doesn’t feel like he has much of a choice. So they walk across the hills of flowers for a bit, the summer sun shining down on them bright and hot.
The ocean glitters down there, off to the side, and Arthur wishes he was in a mood to appreciate it. He’s always wanted to see the ocean, and it sends a pang through him that now he can’t even enjoy his first look of it. But he’s way too jittery and apprehensive, too concerned about their strange company and he still doesn’t know what happened, how they got here, what’s going on.
He isn’t sure how long it takes them, and then they’re walking through flowering hedges onto soft grass instead of the springy flowers and the scent in the air changes to something more balmy, less earthy.
The woman leads them through what seems to be a maze of some sort, and only when they step out of it into a sprawling, fancy park does it occur to him that he can’t quite remember when they entered it precisely.
But in front of him looms what has to be the castle- there are walls and towers and even battlements. He cranes his neck as his eyes wander up the stories and along the rows and rows of windows. He’s seen drawings of castles in books, but the sparse, black lines really don’t do it justice what it’s like to stand in front of one- it’s so much bigger and more confusing in real life. It looks as big as the House of Parliament- though maybe that’s because it’s standing all by itself. But it’s definitely at least as large as Newgate Prison was this noon.
But a lot, a lot fancier.
Not a place he has any business being in.
Still, he follows, up steps and through a big, solid wooden door and into a fancy entrance hall with wallpaper and wood paneling and end tables with stuff on them- like fancy vases and other things he doesn’t know the purpose of. If there is a purpose. Maybe they’re just there to show off that rich people can have stuff just to have it sitting around and taking up space.
The strange lady says there are rooms for them, and why don’t they go clean up, shows them the way- up a big, curving flight of stairs from the entrance hall to the first floor, and then down a corridor, and then she opens one door and tells Gregory that that’s his room, and one door down says this one is for Arthur.
Why would she give them rooms? Arthur peeks inside- and is both intimidated and relieved. It looks… it looks like a fancy bedroom. The bed is huge and the sheets are crisp and white, and all the wood is dark and heavy and beautifully carved and shiny. But there’s no personal sort of things in the room, so it’s probably just a guestroom she decided to give him.
She’s taking Darcy off to somewhere else, and Arthur is just as glad to have a moment to himself to try and think. He doesn’t dare touch any of the fancy furniture and fabrics in the room in case he makes them dirty, but there is a washstand in a corner, and so he goes to wash his hands and face, because he’s sweaty and dusty and still feels gross from seeing all those dead people. The water is clear and cool, and he realizes he’s absolutely parched, and his mouth still tastes bitter. So he looks around, but of course he’s alone, and lifts the water jug for a deep drink. He’s pretty sure that’s not what a noble would do, but he’s thirsty and the water is clear and soothing.
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Finally, a bit of peace! The room Eluned took her to is huge, but it’s a lady’s room, not too different from hers, bigger and a lot fancier, yes, but there’s a bed, with a nice canopy, she likes beds with canopies, you can hide in them and really that’s all she wants right now, just hide. Hide and have her papa back, so she finds the writing things in the desk and writes her papa a letter.
That should do it; he’ll come and save her. He must. Please.
After having placed the letter into the ‘out’-box, because really, ladies only write letters, sending them is what servants do, that’s what her stories taught her, Darcy feels very much done with the world and decides it’s proper for the heroine of the story to give in to her emotions and curls up on the bed, knees up against her chin. She feels terrible for ruining the pretty linens but what is she supposed to do? She can’t change clothes, she doesn’t have anything, she doesn’t belong here and she really hopes this is all a bad dream, she feels sleepy anyway, so she presses her eyes shut, hopes she wakes up back in her room.
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Gregory looks around the room the nice lady gave him, and heads over to the big bed to sit down on the edge of it and test the softness and bounciness of the mattress. He grins when he finds that it is much better than what Arthur’s room has to offer, does it a few more times. Then, he scoots back off and goes to investigate the rest of the room, looking into the dressers and cupboards and the wardrobe. Most of it is empty, except for some books on a shelf, and writing supplies in a desk drawer, and, to his delight, behind one door in a cupboard he finds glasses and a few bottles of, yes, beer.
He skips the unnecessary glasses and opens one of the bottles, drinks straight from it as he does another circuit of the room, looks out of the window. He can see trees and grass and flowerbeds.
Bored, he’s just about to go and check on Artie and see what his room is like, when there’s a rustle by the door and a letter is pushed underneath it.
Through the door, the nice lady tells him it’s from Lady Darcy, and she herself has to leave now to do something else.
Gregory goes to pick the letter up, but of course he can’t read it- the letters do their usual skipping and blurring and misbehaving. So he finishes his beer, sets the bottle aside, and takes the letter over to Artie.