Chapter 78
Previously: The Rose of Whitby – Chapter 77
Arthur doesn’t even have time to call after Gregory before he’s gone- then wonders whether he wanted to. But… but, wait, they were meant to teach Gregory about things he isn’t supposed to talk about at the ball, and how to act, and who to avoid- how did it come to this?
He doesn’t get time to think about it, because Llew leans over the table and says: “And don’t forget to tell Darcy who to thank for that book if you figure it out!” while tapping one finger on the cover and grinning that disconcerting grin of his.
“Um, okay, I won’t…” Arthur agrees, because… because he’d rather Llew got further away again.
Which he does when he straightens back up again. He looks at the spot where Gregory vanished, then back at Arthur. His grin sharpens, and he winks. “And I must be in a good mood today, because here’s another freebie: Not that that one’s going to be any good for your weird human baby-making.” He giggles, takes a skipping step and vanishes in another cloud of glitter in the middle of it.
That leaves Arthur alone in the study with the strange book and nausea curdling in his stomach. He’s not going to… Nope, not going to think about it. He looks down at the book in trepidation. He doesn’t really want to read it, either- well, part of him is curious, but most of him is worried about this whole human anatomy business and what it has to do with… But. But it’s for Darcy, and she was so very upset, and if there’s something in there that can help her…
So he takes a deep breath, and opens the book to start from the beginning. His eyes flick over the imprint information more by accident as he flicks past, and at least that looks familiar- except… He can’t have seen that right? He turns back, and… and for one, it says it was printed in Philadelphia, PA in the USA, and he has no idea where that is, but that’s not what caught his attention. It’s that it says the number “2007” where the year should be. That… that can’t be right. That has to mean something else, right? But the book is so strange… But surely Llew can’t just give him a book… from the future? From over a century in the future?
Hesitantly, he continues on to the table of contents- which maybe supports that “from the future” theory, because… because there are a lot of long, complicated words and terms he’s never seen before. Like “molecular biology” and “hormones” and “pheochromocytoma”. Maybe some of that is just medical terminology, but… but what on earth is “radiotherapy” supposed to be? Or “computed tomography and magnetic resonance imaging”?
At least it seems to be an introductory text, because the first chapter explains what “endocrinology” is- it’s about chemicals in the body sending messages. Apparently. And there’s pictures, or schemata, of cells and, moreover, what’s inside of them, in way more detail than he thinks anyone knows. And chemical formulae, and lots of talks about “genes” that he isn’t sure what they are, the book assumes everyone who reads it knows that, but they’re in those cells and have something to do with making all that chemical messaging stuff.
So the introduction is overwhelming, but fascinating. Then, though, he unfortunately has to turn to the chapter on “female infertility”. Even though he really doesn’t want to, and… and it seems callous to just put that in the table of contents so baldly. And he’s barely turned to that chapter when he squeaks and slams his hand down on one half of the page- there’s pictures. Photographs. Of people! Naked people! He feels his cheeks burn. That… why would anyone agree to have their picture put in a book this way?
As he continues reading, he makes sure to keep his hand ready to cover up any new ones of those. Unfortunately, there’s also… drawings? Very neat ones, with labels. Of people’s private parts. And for whatever reason, they’re coloured in with some vaguely-fleshy pink tone. Arthur cringes, and tries to see as little of those as possible. Sometimes, it’s a disadvantage to read as fast as he does, because he can’t always avoid catching glimpses when he needs to figure out where the text continues.
At least the language is… dry. Neutral. And doesn’t really talk about what’s involved in having children- well, it does, but only in terms of glands with complicated medical names and systems of those hormones and how they can be interrupted. It’s still not comfortable to read about, but there’s distance. Enough distance that he can cope, as long as he makes sure to not look at those pictures and stuff.
It turns out that there’s a looooot of reasons why a woman might not be able to have children. From the way the book talks, Arthur is getting the impression that the body is a ridiculously complicated affair of a million things that have to work just right so you don’t just up and die or something. Lots of disruptions can apparently happen to make it so someone can’t have children.
If it’s some kind of tumour, maybe he could heal it? Or Dr Seward could cut it out and then Arthur could heal the surgical wound, at least. Though, can dhampirs even get tumours? If it’s some kind of problem with the organs or those glands and their “hormone” messenger things… he probably can’t do anything about it? And if it was easy to heal, he would’ve healed it already when he healed Darcy before from fighting, wouldn’t he?
As he goes through the long list and cross-referenced chapters on all the disorders that might be causing it, he comes across something weird. Something about where it refers to the chapter on “Normal and Abnormal Sexual Differentiation and Development”, which he really didn’t want to read, but… but it talks about how someone could have something abnormal there that they didn’t notice before. Despite how uncomfortable it makes him, he reads that section several times. If he understands this correctly, and he’s not at all sure because they’re talking a lot about these “genes” and “chromosomes” again… but, someone can… look like a woman but not be one?
And something about that tugs at him. He squirms in his seat, but… but what is it? And then he remembers: The vision. In his vision, with that fey trial, that Darcy… that Darcy was dressing like a woman but wasn’t one, and wanted to be called “they” and not “her”. And it didn’t make any sense, because that wasn’t scary, and the vision was about things that were scary to him… right? So why would the vision put that in there? Why would it change that about Darcy?
Unless… it didn’t change it?
But that also doesn’t make any sense, because that Darcy looked different from the one he knows. And also… wouldn’t that imply that the vision… wasn’t just completely made up? Well, the vision apparently was of the opinion that when he’s older, he would be tall, for no good reason, too. So… so maybe the magic did some kind of… extrapolation on what they would be like when they were older? And that’s what Darcy would be like?
But the Darcy he knows… well, what does he know? Sure, he’s seen her in her underwear, and he blushes on thinking about that, and this entire topic, but, uh, well… his point is, he wouldn’t really know what’s under Darcy’s clothes. And he neither wants nor needs to know, except… except now she’s upset and Gregory went and talked about how she can’t have children, and Arthur didn’t know that but she apparently did, and, uh… Llew thinks the reason is something related to this book.
And the best he can understand this in the book, it’s like there’s these “hormones” in your body that say whether your body is male or female, but sometimes something goes wrong and then people end up looking female even though they aren’t. (Which kind of implies that ‘female’ is like… the human default form? And that’s an interesting thought, but not for now.)
So… would Darcy know? If that was the case with her? And… and if she got male later, like the one in his vision… That shouldn’t be possible, not from what he understands from the book, it talks about surgery and stuff to, uh, make people look a certain way in their private parts (that thought makes him cringe not just because of the topic, but… people cutting around there? He shudders.) but… but he doesn’t need or want any detailed memories from that vision him, no thank you, but his impression is that that’s not how it was with that Darcy.
So… could dhampirism heal that? Like he thought earlier about the tumours? And if it can… Darcy should know, right? She’d have a right to know that that could happen to her. He really, really, really doesn’t want to talk to her about something so private and uncomfortable and everything, but… but it’s something that concerns her. He wouldn’t be a good friend if he didn’t. If it was him, he wouldn’t want someone keeping something like this from him, even if it turned out to just be a crazy and unfounded suspicion.
He dithers for a few moments longer- and he knows he’s dithering. He knows what he needs to do, his mind is made up, he just needs a few moments to bring himself to actually do it. Then he takes a deep breath, slips a scrap of paper into the book for a bookmark, tucks the book under his arm, and goes look for Darcy.
Darcy isn’t in her room or the library, so eventually, he asks the house if it can tell him where she is- maybe it’s a weird request, but the house would know, right? And it does- he ends up following a little wave that runs along the carpets, and curtains blowing in a non-existent breeze, and eventually, out in the garden, bushes and grass nodding in one direction.
Probably, if he wasn’t used by now to living in a magical castle, this would be quite spooky. Instead, he tells the house ‘thank you’ when it leads him to the hedge maze, and he spots a red tuft of fur poking up over the bushes towards the centre.
It looks like Darcy curled up on a bench as a wolf, so he calls to her from a few metres away, in case she doesn’t want to be disturbed.
~~~~
Darcy had been in such a blind rage. In front of Arthur. Gregory had to do it in front of Arthur! He knows how Arthur is with anything on that topic. Arthur will just think her more of a harlot and disgusting and less of a woman, too! She doesn’t want Arthur to be uncomfortable with her. That would hurt nearly as much as knowing that she’s being bad for everybody anyway.
Worst for John, of course. She doesn’t love him properly and she can’t give him the children he wants. Still, she can’t feel like she made a mistake with Eluned. She doesn’t think Gregory really would be any more interested in her even if she hadn’t sold even more of herself to Eluned to keep her body like this, if she’d had the healing take its course. It’s not as if he doesn’t come to her for wifely duties, even though she can smell on him that she’s not the only one. It’s not difficult to smell other men on him.
She must be doing something else wrong with him. She just doesn’t know anymore. No matter what she does, it’s wrong. She’s consigned herself to just being his failed wife. At least she can be his good whore and a good baroness. In all ways but that one. With all the trying, if there was any chance, she should be pregnant by now. Either from him or from John. But no.
Not that she could tell. She did read some texts now that the house would hand them to her… and no, she’s never had a period. So there is nothing to stop to tell her that she’s pregnant.
John keeps telling her that her Papa is on it. That surely he’ll find a way to help. And she feels guilty and terrible for wondering. Because it’s her papa, she knows he can do anything, anything at all… but this, isn’t this exactly like him trying to cure her dhampirism? She has a contract; a fey contract was needed to keep her even this close to a semblance of being a woman. She wanted to be John’s femme fatale so bad, but that feels as strange as being the proper baroness. She’s just bad for everybody.
Too much woman for Gregory.
Too little woman for John, and the barony.
She’s just bad.
And that’s why it’s for the best that she couldn’t find John when she ran away earlier. All she wanted to do was for him to take the anger and the pain away. Hold her, maybe hurt her so that it would be the pain that feels nice, that makes her feel alive, that makes her drac bounce and bark because it feels so very alive.
Not this cold pain that keeps circling in her stomach. Not this cold pain that had to settle into her belly. That stupid, useless belly of hers! She doesn’t deserve to have John take that pain away. But she also can’t take it, she just wants to forget.
Forget like she does so often lately what happens when she and Gregory are alone. She just feels cold then, too. Cold and as if the mask is creeping down her skin, making her feel like crystal, just one more push away from shattering. But then Gregory is gone and there’s John and if she just stays around him long enough the feeling recedes away. As if the warm touch of his hands rubs the warmth back into her skin, into her heart. She wants to love him so badly, so very badly, but she doesn’t and that hurts more. And she’s helpless to do anything.
All she could do, could think of, was to come out here. It’s too early for her night friends, so she’s alone. She hates that, too. But maybe, if she just stays here long enough, she’ll forget that she’s Darcy; that she has to be a human, let her drac take her body again. The body she knows is protection for her drac, but she feels so tired. She tries to protect everybody, but she feels the most powerless about herself.
In her vision, she could think it through so coolly. She can’t do that now. Somehow, no matter how drained she feels after Gregory, there never is that self-assured coldness she had. Her drac is here and as long as she has it, she’ll always feel and just… just maybe not feeling would be scarier anyway. Scared feels strange, too, but it’s better than that anger Gregory caused earlier. So here she is, just waiting on oblivion and her drac to hopefully take her.
But it’s Arthur instead who finds her, and if he wants to tell her how bad she is and that he’s disgusted with her and doesn’t want to be around her anymore, then she’ll listen and nod because he’d be right, too.
~~~~
Arthur approaches carefully, because Darcy… Darcy looks really sad. Her ears are all tipped down, like they’re too heavy to perk up, and that makes him… that makes him angry, he decides. Why did Gregory have to be so mean? Sure, he said he didn’t mean it that way, but… but still! For once, he could’ve thought before opening his mouth!
“Hey,” he says gently, nods at the bench next to her. “Mind if I sit?”
~~~~
She doesn’t dare change back. She might be bad, but she’s not stupid, she knows that Arthur likes her better as a wolf, so she scoots over on the bench to give him space and tries to wag her tail for him.
~~~~
Arthur takes the seat, and smiles at her. He… kind of feels like giving her a hug, but… would that be weird? Maybe she doesn’t want a hug right now… So instead, he says: “Thanks. Um…” Well, nothing really for it. “Llew gave me this book, to maybe help with, um…” He feels himself blush hotly, not sure how to continue- but mentioning Gregory would probably be bad, so he manages: “Having children…”
~~~~
Llew? Darcy’s thoughts race off with her. Why would he do that? Then she remembers the way he looks at her and her blood goes cold. It’s what men want from women. Men who want women, men who want women to be… Oh sweet night… Another chain. And so many emotions he could get. She knows it, so he surely knows, too. The thought turns her stomach but… but fey can do anything, Eluned made her into the semblance of a woman. Llew would have an interest in more. But… so would John!
For a long moment, she feels the tension run up and down her spine, but she sold her marriage contract to Gregory, if she can be fixed to give him children then she can bear to do the same for Llew as long as it means she can gift John one, as well! It’s just her body. She learned that in the vision, didn’t she? Just her body. She can do this. Do it for John! Changing back she immediately tells Arthur: “Don’t pay him anything. I’ll do it!”
~~~~
Arthur gives her a surprised look. “Pay? He didn’t say anything about paying…? Just to tell you that he’s the one who got the book… But, um…” He blushes again, looks down at the cover, glistening even in the grey light of the November afternoon. “…I’m not sure it’s possible? I mean… depending on what the reason is, there’s like… a really long list, but… but I don’t think I can heal most of it,” he admits.
~~~~
“He probably just wants you to find what it is. Use you to tell, well, me, how I’m bad. How I’m broken. He likes emotions.” Hanging her head and pulling her knees up, she glances over the top of them at Arthur. “I’m sorry that Gregory made you hear those things.”
~~~~
That makes Arthur scowl. “He shouldn’t have said something like that! It was mean! I… I meant to tell him he needs to apologize to you, but… but everything went kind of weird and sideways. I’ll tell him next time I see him! And… and you’re not bad! Or broken! I mean, maybe… maybe there’s something not quite working as it’s supposed to with your body, but… but that’s not your fault? It doesn’t make you bad? Like…” He’s not sure how to express what he means. “Like how some people are near-sighted. So their eyes don’t work quite like they should and they can’t see well, but that doesn’t make them bad people!”
~~~~
“Being near-sighted doesn’t make them bad at their duties or for the people they want to be good for.” She shakes her head slightly. “It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is, are there any that could be fixed? Can I help?”
~~~~
Arthur doesn’t know what to say to that, how to refute that- he should, he knows he should, but he can’t think of any good arguments. So he returns to what brought him out here in the first place. “Um, well, if it was due to a tumour or something, we could probably fix it. But…” He blushes and fidgets. The idea seemed to fit in the study, but now out here, talking with Darcy, it seems really out there… Still. If it’s even a distant possibility… “Um, there’s this thing I read in the book, this section, and… and I hope you’re not going to be offended or mad or something, but… well, if it’s a possibility, I thought you should know?”
He holds the book out to her, indicates the bookmark, then remembers: “Uh, there’s pictures in there. Of, uh…” He feels like his face is on fire. “Naked people. And also diagrams. Um, just… if you wanted to cover them up or something…”
~~~~
Curiously taking the book, Darcy opens it and looks, then gasps. She doesn’t need to cover the picture, well, it’s really a scale of, um, well, genitals, because she can see herself on that scale. Covering that up would be like putting a cloth over the mirror and what good does that do? Beginning to read over the text, she wrinkles her nose, this is like one of her papa’s texts but makes even less sense. Although, after reading it twice, she tilts her head and looks at Arthur. “I think the text says that somebody like this, they are a boy but don’t fully look like one, right?”
~~~~
“Something like that,” Arthur agrees. “There’s lots of terms I don’t really know what they mean, all that ‘gene’ and ‘chromosome’ stuff, but from context, I think what it says is that there’s some people who have some bits in them that are male, and they’re supposed to tell the rest of the body to be male, too, but something’s not working with the, uh, messaging system? Those hormone substances? Um… I think that book might be from… the future,” he says, even though he feels kind of stupid saying it. “It says ‘2007’ in the imprint… I don’t know if they know any better in the future, but it talks like all that stuff with what’s in cells and how they talk to each other with chemicals and all is really established…”
~~~~
Closing the book with a sigh, Darcy leans her forehead on her knees and whimpers. “So that’s what my healing tried to fix.”
~~~~
Arthur blinks. He… was right? “Um… it already did?” He blushes some more. “I thought, um, well, if that was something to do with you, that it might, your healing, I mean, and… and, um, that you should know so, um… you have some warning, at least…?” He trails off awkwardly.
~~~~
“Too late, sorry.” She begins to rub her finger where she knows that extra contract is sitting under her skin, burnt into her flesh, her soul, and begins to cry, silently. “Papa told me what he thought was giving me all that pain. I was… was too worried about not being able to marry, so I made another contract with Eluned. She said she could only stabilise me. I’m too broken even for a fey. I’m sorry that you had to read that book. I’m sorry for always being bad for everybody.”
~~~~
Arthur doesn’t know what to do with her crying, so he awkwardly pats her arm. “Um… well, parts of the book were really interesting. I, um… I’m sorry I didn’t know that already happened to you? And that it hurt?”
~~~~
With another shake of her head, Darcy tries if she can manage a smile, but it feels exactly as painted on as it is on top of her mask. “We had the dame in the house. I’m glad I managed to not let you notice anything. Now I just have to manage to not let anybody notice anything at the ball either.” She laughs, but it’s half a sob. “At least it’s the truth that I’m not pregnant, nothing to hide there but my shame at being barren.”
~~~~
“Oh, that was then? Yes, probably better that I didn’t notice, so she didn’t, either…” He bites his lip, then scoots a little closer on the bench. “Um… is there anything I can do? I mean, I can’t fix it, but… anything else? Like, um… would you like a hug?” Darcy hugs him when he’s feeling bad, so… so he can at least ask, right?
~~~~
“Arthur, you don’t always have to fix everything. There’s too much wrong with me to be fixed anyway,” she tells him, because he’s always so anxious and she doesn’t like it. And she would like that hug, and if he offers that means he doesn’t think she’s too disgusting, so she leans her head on his shoulder after rubbing at her tears.
~~~~
He thinks her leaning against him is an agreement, so he wraps his arm around her shoulders, but also finds himself scowling. “There’s nothing wrong with you!” he finds himself insisting. “These books are just rude! Like the dhampir book, that was also all rude. They’re just… narrow-minded.” He nods to himself- yes, that’s what they are.
~~~~
His words surprise her, as does the vehemence to them, so she allows herself to turn her face against his chest and just be hugged. There’s nothing she can say anyway. Even if he thinks there’s nothing wrong with her, it still means that she was right in her fear, her papa can’t help, Eluned can’t help, Arthur can’t help, and surely Llew can’t, either, if Arthur has nothing for him to work with. She’s barren, she’ll always be. Even if she’s not wrong, she’s still bad for John and that hurts. Hurts badly and makes her nestle in closer to Arthur so she can cry some more.
~~~~
They sit like that for a while, and even though the stone bench is kind of hard, and a mist drifts in with the waning afternoon that leaves little water droplets on his jacket and Darcy’s dress, Arthur actually doesn’t mind. With how Darcy is curled against him and has her head on his shoulder, he thinks he’s helping at least a little, even if she’s still crying for a bit. At least she doesn’t have to cry alone, that would be awful, he decides.
Eventually, when he can just about still see it, a furry little body comes scampering up the folds of Darcy’s skirt from the ground. Not big like the rats in London, this one is much smaller and very cute with big button eyes and a twitching nose. Darcy turns her face from his chest and cups a hand around the little mouse, then looks around, exclaims how it’s getting dark, and she hadn’t noticed, and oh, no, he must be getting cold! No, he has to go inside now, she insists!
She cups the mouse to her chest and assures him she’ll be alright now, she’ll have her night friends, and she’ll see him soon for dinner, but now he needs to go inside and warm up! Since Darcy isn’t wrong and Arthur is feeling a bit chilled and sore from sitting in the same position for a good long while, he lets himself be shooed off.
He does see Darcy for dinner, and also Gregory- who’s acting like nothing whatsoever happened, grinning and laughing. So when dinner draws to a close, Arthur asks him: “Can I talk to you?” And of course Gregory makes a quip about how he doesn’t know, can Arthur? So Arthur gives him an unimpressed look and tells him, fine, he needs to talk to him, and tows him off afterwards into a salon near the dining room.
Gregory looks curious and guileless, like he has no idea what Arthur could be about to say, so Arthur crosses his arms and tells him to apologise to Darcy- no, everything is not fine, she was really upset, and what he said was really mean, and what the hell was he thinking, and he had better apologise or Arthur will set him on fire! And he means it, too.
And of course Gregory turns contrite and agrees that he’ll apologise.
That takes some of the wind out of Arthur’s sails, even though it’s what he wanted. But it also means he has to tell Gregory that, no, there’s nothing he can do to fix things for Darcy.
Gregory just shrugs, and reminds him that he already said he doesn’t care! Which reminds Arthur of what Llew said about Gregory, and… well, Gregory has a right to know, doesn’t he? So he tells him. That, um, well, Llew implied that Gregory… couldn’t either, anyway…
And Gregory grins. And says: “Maybe you should check for yourself!”
Arthur’s stomach gives a slow, heavy roll even while his thoughts stutter over Gregory’s words. Check? He? …How? Gregory’s grin implies a how, and Arthur snaps: “Do it yourself!” and storms out before he throws up all over Gregory’s feet.
Gregory always with his teasing! Arthur knows he doesn’t mean anything by it, but… but he wishes he wouldn’t, anyway. He takes deep breaths to settle the revulsion shaking through him, heads to his room to hide out for at least a few minutes, until it won’t be so obvious to everyone just how much this bothers him.
~~~~
Now that Arthur has run off, there’s nothing more to get there, but he said Darcy was really upset, yes, she was, maybe Gregory can get more there. He wants more, he needs more, and hey, Arthur said he has to apologize, so perfect excuse.
~~~~
Darcy feels her neck hairs stand on end even before Gregory saunters into the room. Her drac is… whimpering, and she finds herself ducking down and away from him. From that grin, from those hungry eyes on her, from him telling her he’s sorry… to hear she’s too fucked up for even Arthur to fix, but that’s okay, he doesn’t care.
~~~~
That’s it! That’s fucking it! He’s had it with not being petty and respecting another man! Nobody talks to his girl like that and nobody the fuck makes her whimper and crumple to the floor like that! John didn’t even think he could cross the room that fast, he was just out of the room for five fucking minutes to grab something and Gregory used that to assault Darcy.
John doesn’t fucking care that this is technically Gregory’s marriage suite, too. He’s hurting Darcy and that means he has to fucking go.
His fist cracks into Gregory’s jaw and that does… not much at all. Fuck, he knew he didn’t… wait, no. Fuck that! He does it again, now with his power and this time, rather than laughing, Gregory, well, doesn’t go unconscious but… it’s as if he dodged away. Not with his body, not at first at least.
John’s never felt something like that before, but he fucking swears that Gregory somehow dodged his power, and then a moment later he has his hands up and assures him he didn’t mean it badly. He just wanted to apologize and tell his wife that he doesn’t care about her flaws. John needs to chill.
John will do nothing fucking like that. He doesn’t give three shits that he can feel his knuckles stinging, he can feel his unleashed temper sting even harder. He is going to punch Gregory into kingdom come if he doesn’t the fuck back away now. Right now!
And he does, Gregory actually does. He’s there one moment, the next he’s a cat, and then he’s gone.
And with him, that feeling of… of standing next to himself and screaming and knowing he won’t stop until somebody is dead… Is that how his father felt? John’s fists fall limply to his sides… No… No he can’t think about that now!
Culver! He got like this because of his girl. She’s all that matters. She’s his life. His love and his conviction that he can be better than a man who’s only made for violence. His hands still shake when he kneels down next to her, but he can feel himself grow gentle. He can touch with more than anger and he will hold her and protect her for as long as she needs it.
He cares. He will always care.