Chapter 45
Previously:
Arthur startles again at Radu’s arrival, but John’s reaction, his expression, makes him a little more certain that he’s understanding the problem right, and so he turns to Mariam, and offers, quietly:
“I, um, I think it’s that he really can’t stand the idea of you forcing yourself to do something you don’t want to…”
“What does he care? Not as if any of you have an idea how it is,” she brushes him off, arms crossed now.
~
Art jumps in, can’t believe that he seems to be counting on Radu to take care of John, but the way the two of them are staring at each other tells him there’s at least telepathy going, hopefully not mind craft.
“No, us guys don’t get it. Women are disadvantaged. I’ve taken in enough women down on their luck to hear most every version of rape, slavery, and misery. I can’t imagine some of those, but I can tell you one thing: Just because I cannot empathise down to how it would feel doesn’t mean that I, or John, can’t have compassion. For fuck’s sake, Mariam, I’m a noble, I know how this game works. I know you don’t have much of a choice at all, but don’t get angry at John for it.”
~
“John’s not that kind of guy!” Arthur agrees. “And I’ve seen enough of that kind of guy to tell!” He hesitates, then adds: “And I’m not that kind of guy, either- one who doesn’t care. I’m not a woman or a noble, so I only know things in theory, but you’re my friend and if I can help in any way, I want to.”
Mariam was glaring at Art before she splutters at Arthur’s words.
“Friend? That’s ridiculous. You don’t know anything about me!”
~
“But I do!” Quincy wheezes as he finally arrives, he really is neither good at running nor does he want to be, but somehow, he keeps doing it. Ugh, could these people please have their emotional outbursts where he can teleport to?
Anyway, what is going on here?
Radu and John are clearly mind-locked… and now his fiancé is crying… He’s reasonably convinced those are John’s tears his far-too-nice voivode is shedding there for him. Okay, he knows how to deal with those two.
At least he doesn’t feel like somebody decided to set off fireworks right inside of him anymore. John must be calming down at least marginally, phew. So back to Mariam.
“Tits, what the bloody hell?”
With obvious anger, (to him, anyway,) Mariam huffs at him.
“Your… I don’t even know what he is to you! My potentially ex-engaged is throwing a tantrum over me not being able to appreciate his manliness.”
Oh dear, no wonder John is in such a state, she must have pricked his masculinity fears somehow.
“Alright, how about we girls take this elsewhere? I can see two tempers clashing when it happens right in front of me, and that’s not going to do either of you any good. Let my poor fiancé take John to one room where he doesn’t have to hold his breath, and we go to another?”
~
Art agrees with Quincy there, this needs de-escalation, and a massive amount thereof. So he takes John’s shoulder, firmer now, and shoves him towards Radu (which he still can’t quite believe). Finally snapping out of it, John grumbles that he can walk on his own, but it’s perfectly obvious to Art how uncomfortable John was with the touch in the way he ducks out from under it.
Still tapping her foot, Mariam finally rises, but only once John is out the door.
“Fine! It couldn’t become more of a disaster if we tried.”
~
Arthur, meanwhile, tries not to take Mariam’s declaration that their being friends is ridiculous too personally- it’s not like she’s wrong on them not knowing each other that well. Maybe he’s the only one who thinks surviving crises together is a bonding experience…? Anyway, he’s happy for the socially adept people to handle the high-flying tempers and stick in the background with Art…
Not that Art doesn’t look crestfallen when Mariam stalks out of the room.
“Now I feel proper useless. Damn.”
Arthur sighs, too. “I guess that… blew up unexpectedly?” And, because it does bug him, and… and, well, Art likes being a dad, so maybe asking him will make him feel more useful…? he adds: “…Is it really ridiculous to consider Mariam my friend?”
~
“No kidding, I didn’t expect John to be that upset. It’s not as if nobles… eh, but he wasn’t born one.”
Shaking his head, Art grabs his own wine glass from the dinner table before the house can clean that off, too, and focuses on Arthur.
“It depends on your definition of friend. Was I friends with everybody in Jack’s and my military unit? No, definitely not. Did I trust them with my life, yeah, sure did. Maybe Mariam sees you… us, more like that. Or maybe she makes sure to not get too close to anybody. Women have it much harder than us guys. It’s not a bad idea to be extra cautious.”
“I suppose… And if she’s a molly like Quincy, it’d be even more dangerous to be close to people, I guess? But… how can you trust someone that much and not be friends?” That looks like confusion the way Arthur wrinkles his nose there. “How does that go together?”
Art nearly snorts into his wine glass, then allows himself the chuckle once it’s safe.
“Maybe I should have guessed? It seems I have a magical dad talent that all my kids but John are mollies? Anyway, there’s a difference between trusting somebody being a part of your unit, doing everything they can to keep everybody alive, and actually getting along with them, liking them. Trevor, damn but he was an arse, still crawled through a jungle to get to Jack to help him with getting one of our boys on a stretcher. It’s… hm, maybe you could say it’s like you are both friends with the idea of the unit, but not with everybody in it?”
Arthur smiles a little at the chuckle. “Maybe… And, hm… I mean, what you say makes sense, but I guess I better not join any militaries, because I don’t think I could trust people that way…”
“Don’t join any militaries in general. They suck. Glorified brainwashing and misery machines.” Shaking his head even while he says it, Art sinks deeper into his chair, unthinkingly rubs the scar hidden under his beard.
“Also I hate people dying.” Arthur nods. “And militaries kind of make that happen. So… um, I guess no card game…?” He looks disappointed.
“So that I can just wallow in misery and worry?” Art lifts an eyebrow, then stands up and stretches. “Come on, son, I’ll teach you some of the games we can play with only two people.”
That has Arthur perk up and get to his feet, too. “Okay!”
~
Arthur hasn’t really spent any time in the smoking room before- it feels very ‘not his territory’, but with Art gesturing him to a comfortable chair across the game table from himself and getting settled in, he soon forgets about feeling awkward and gets caught up in learning the card game Art is teaching him, and then practising playing it. Not only is it new, it’s also much more complicated than anything he’s played previously, and Art might give him helpful tips but plays seriously, too.
~
Serious is the important word here, because that is definitely the atmosphere when Mariam reappears, (despite Quincy really trying to push against her fixed ideas.) His makeup skills can hide most things, just not how red her eyes are and how stiff she’s standing there. The relaxed demeanour she had around them is gone, she’s back to presenting her perfect training, which really, Quincy is just about ready to shriek about. Worse because he knows what idiocy she is about to ask:
“Lord Godalming, may I inquire if there is a steward position available at your estate since you are spending your supervisory capability at the Rossmore estate now?”
Even though he knew, he’s still very tempted to smack her. At least he can roll his eyes so that Art and Arthur know he’s not agreeing. All his reassurances that John wouldn’t kick her out pearled off of her. He even told her that Radu had reached out to make sure that they don’t think that John is angry with her.
He can sense that there are things that Radu isn’t telling him, and yes, that annoys him, but he also can’t help but coo at how much Radu took it to heart when he had tasked him to see to John’s wellbeing. Intricacies about his power over both his fiancé and his fiancé’s relationship to his bro aside, Mariam is convinced she ruined her future. That she made the most stupid mistake of her life by not doing what women need to do: Keep quiet about their true feelings.
Art is blinking hard at the question, as he should, looks at Quincy, also as he should, and then says something Quincy can agree with:
“What? Mariam… uh, Miss Powlett? Seriously? How about we pretend I didn’t hear that until we get the other side of this whole drama? Hey, we have four people here. Whist makes the time go by faster.”
~
Arthur gives Mariam a shy and surprised look, not sure what to do with that sudden formality, looks at Quincy- sees his eye roll, and feels a sliver of relief that he also seems to think she’s being too… well, not exactly dramatic. Or maybe that’s the right word? Anyway, he nods his agreement with Art’s suggestion.
~
“Don’t even think I’ll walk you over on my arm,” Quincy huffs and walks right past Mariam to pull a chair out next to Arthur, leans in to kiss him hello, and crosses his arms. He can be stubborn, too. If she wants to be an idiot, he tried to help; now she can dig her own grave or get out of that hole that isn’t there.
~
Art does stand up to pull the chair next to himself out for her. He doesn’t want to, but he knows the rules, and if she wants to give herself a bit of a safety framework, he won’t reprimand her for it.
Yet.
~
Arthur blushes, of course. Is this kissing business what they do now?
But… it’s not bad. In fact, what with the tense atmosphere, it actually feels reassuring, and he’s glad to have Quincy sit next to him so decidedly. Maybe having a deal about your relationships is the way to go; at least he knows somewhat where he stands, even if anyone asking about him being Quincy’s boyfriend trips him up anyway…
~
“There, see, big deal that I just kissed my boyfriend. That one still has plans to get me and Darcy married.” Quincy gives Mariam a meaningful look while gesturing at Art, who did find himself staring a bit before shaking himself out of it.
Okay, okay, he’s a molly dad, this is normal… totally normal.
Seriously, his wife is an eternal teenager who shows her affection by drinking his blood. How are two men kissing weird in comparison? So he clears his throat and smiles.
“I care who makes my sugar doll happy, and that’s definitely you. Also, it’s common among nobles to have loved ones besides their lawfully wedded spouses anyway.”
Now it’s Art who tries for the meaningful look as he pushes Mariam’s chair back in after she took a seat, but she ignores him.
~
Arthur thinks about pointing out that Quincy is scheming to get John and Darcy, well, kind of married, too, but then decides not to, in case that makes Mariam feel only more like John is going to dump her- which, Arthur really doesn’t think he would. Also, they have a signed contract, and he doesn’t recall ‘being a molly’ being a clause for breaking it in it…
~
Mariam isn’t willing to discuss this any further, she just grabs the cards and starts shuffling.
What would talking about it with any of them do, anyway? It’s John who probably wants to rip that contract in half in front of her eyes. It doesn’t matter if it’s punishment or whatever. She’s done for. They didn’t even officially announce it to the newspaper, she should have at least kept her mouth shut until then, but no, she had to say something in front of Lord Godalming and her engaged. Ugh, in front of the not-mollies. She really should know better than to trust normal men.
~
“Fine, girl, give them the silent treatment, but the only thing you are going down in is this game,” Quincy informs her with a huff, then asks Arthur if he knows how to play.
Arthur shakes his head, obviously, to Quincy and probably everybody else here, more than glad to have something to distract from the social tension and awkwardness.
To Quincy, it’s less a distraction and more a way to channel emotions. To pull Mariam into getting upset about something so unimportant as cards.
Well, not that he doesn’t fully intend to win, thought hearing cheat and having the smartest person in the room on his team included, but still. So he plays competitively and aggressively, gets them to switch over to poker eventually and actually manages to get Art to lean away from the table when he grins that they could always play strip poker.
~
Arthur can’t decide whether he’s disappointed that Mariam isn’t calling dibs on him anymore, or pleased that Quincy claims him for his own team all imperiously. Quincy’s quip, though, makes him slide a look his way. And he remembers how Art said he shouldn’t let Quincy intimidate and push him, or make him uncomfortable, so… he says:
“No.”
~
A ‘no’? Did somebody have a consent discussion with Arthur while he wasn’t looking? There are a few suspects for that possibility, and he’ll figure it out later, for now, absolutely he wants to reaffirm that lesson! It can’t have been easy for Arthur.
Also, that it’s him, not Art, to derail his straight people shocking has Quincy laugh, but that’s secondary to giving Arthur a soft smile.
“Well done, honey. No strip poker it is. Am I allowed to give you a reward kiss? You tell me where.”
~
Now Arthur is blushing, of course, but also… Quincy laughed. And even tells him ‘well done’ for saying no? That… Well, he didn’t expect Quincy to force him into anything, but maybe to pout or tease or be dramatic about it a little. This easy acceptance makes something in his chest feel oddly soft. Like he was braced for pushing against something and instead finds himself enveloped in something warm and fluffy.
“Um, sure, okay,” he agrees, and because he can’t bring himself to actually say that he’s fine with a kiss-kiss, leans in a little to offer Quincy his lips instead, hoping that’s enough to communicate.
And feeling very daring, doing that at all, and in front of people, and everything.
~
Nah uh, he is a better boyfriend than this.
Putting a gentle hand on Arthur’s cheek, Quincy smiles at him.
“I know that just leaning in like that is really hard for you. Thank you for doing it, but, honey, please, ‘um, sure, okay’ is not enthusiastic. It doesn’t tell me if you really would like me kissing you or if you feel pressured. I don’t ever want to pressure you. So unless you specifically, of your own volition ask me, I’m not going to do anything that I haven’t been told before you enjoy.”
To still show that yes, he appreciates the leaning in, Quincy puts a kiss on Arthur’s forehead.
“You are too dear to me, Arthur.”
~
“Oh.”
Of course, now Arthur is blushing even hotter, because that feels like a very personal conversation to be having, especially… Well, it’d be fine in front of Art, probably, but they’ve just had all this tension with Mariam, and she’s just denied them being friends, and so… So he’s really not sure where the boundaries are.
But also, the fact that Quincy recognises that Arthur did try his best to communicate there, that he doesn’t think he did it wrong or not well enough or something… that also means a lot.
Actually, it means so much that between the embarrassment, he’s also feeling so touched that it’s a little hard to deal with.
“Thank you?” he offers, and: “I’m not feeling pressured. Not even a little.” Because of that much, he can assure Quincy without combusting of awkward embarrassment.
~
That is clearly enough pushing, Quincy can pretty much feel his hand get heated up by Arthur’s cheek, so he smiles even softer.
“My pleasure, honey. We can talk more about this any time you feel safe to do so.”
Then he does lean in for the kiss, making it a short one, but one with fangs. Quincy wants to show him his approval and complete lack of resentment.
“I just ask one thing, always say ‘no’. Do it as often as you need to not worry that I would ever not accept it.”
~
Art can’t stop himself, he whistles.
“Damn, that’s what I want to see in a responsible relationship. Sorry, Quincy, I was doubting you. Dhampir prejudice.”
~
Chuckling about that, Quincy spreads his hands wide. It’s not as if he doesn’t know he isn’t always showing off that Quincy periphery can smack at Quincy central. Really, understandable enough, although that’s all on him, that has nothing to do with being a dhampir.
“Guilty as charged, not saying that I’m not absolutely going crazy with every day Darcy is missing also for that reason. But really, not all men get their kicks without an explicit ‘yes’.”
~
Mariam knows that was aimed at her, but she’s still determined to give everybody the silent treatment.
She said too much. If she finally behaves as she should, seen but not heard, maybe she still has a future.
~
Arthur keeps blushing, of course- but he is also so happy to feel that lack of resentment.
From Quincy, that is. He glances sideways at Mariam and her uncharacteristic silence. But then, she seems upset with them. He guesses he’ll have to apologize for overstepping with that friendship comment, but now doesn’t seem the time for it, so he rather focuses back on the card game.
~
The card game that goes on and on. Her engaged is taking a long time to lay out how to best get rid of her. It takes so long that Quincy starts in on one of his opium cigarettes. Her nerves are frayed, only getting worse the longer she’s waiting on her doom. She needs a drag.
Her fingers tremble, must tremble enough for him to notice, because he tells her to just keep it.
“These days I don’t have to whore myself out to get them. Also, girl-spit, ew.”
She wants to quip back so badly, but she can’t blunder again, not ever again. She knows silence is the only safety she has left.
Lord Godalming comments, and she nearly thinks he’s trying to defend her, but she can’t let herself believe that: “What is she supposed to say? There’s guy-spit on there from you.”
Quincy starts laughing hard and sticks his tongue out. She wants to chuckle, but no, decorum, quiet, not heard, she has to get that back into her head.
~
Arthur thinks that he surprisingly doesn’t find Quincy’s spit gross at all, (guy or not), but he doesn’t quite dare join the banter. Instead, he gives the cigarette a curious look.
“That doesn’t smell like tobacco?”
“Opium. Calms the nerves and makes you artsy.” Having pulled out another cigarette, Quincy offers it to Arthur, unlit so far. “Give it a try, tastes nicer than tobacco, too.”
“Hey, promise me to stick with the cigarettes, okay?” Art adds with a bit of a headshake. “Jack had a bad addiction to the injected stuff for a long time. I remember having been there for him when he kicked it.”
Arthur takes the cigarette and gives it a curious look, but at Art’s words, glances at him.
“But the cigarettes don’t do that?”
“Eh, the Chinese probably disagree, opium wars and all that.” Now Art is giving the cigarette and Quincy a bit of a back and forth. “But if that one isn’t hopelessly addicted after probably smoking them in some really shit situations, then I don’t think you have much of a chance as long as you take them in an okay environment.”
~
Quincy chuckles and shrugs.
“Intimacy was always more of an addiction and way of coping for me.”
What he doesn’t say is that emotions are far more tempting, but he isn’t going to admit to something so fae.
“…And I guess you weren’t an awakened dhampir, then, so it’s not like your healing stopped it,” Arthur reasons. “I don’t know about being artsy, but I wouldn’t mind having my nerves calmed some.”
“Creative note taking?” Quincy offers with a kiss to Arthur’s hair. “Creative problem solving?”
~
Mariam just about manages to not scoff noticeably, because yeah, she could use some of that. Why is John still hiding? Seriously, is he writing a speech to humiliate her and send her away?
~
“…Prettier spell casting?” Arthur offers with a chuckle. “So how do you…?” He motions with the cigarette.
Sticking the cigarette between his lips Quincy points at the other end. “Be a dear and light it for me, honey.”
That has Art snort. “Okay, built in lighter, I do have to say that’s a neat feature in a partner.”
Arthur makes sure to focus properly on this particular spell to make sure he casts a really tiny flame, and only at the tip of the cigarette- it wouldn’t do to singe off Quincy’s eyebrows, after all.
~
For a second, Quincy’s pupils go wide at fire so close to his face.
That memory is going to haunt him for a long time, he thinks.
But he can combat the nerves with a good drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke sit comfortably in his mouth for several long moments before relaxing and exhaling through his nose. He always liked the thought of looking angry with the literal fuming, but actually letting go of stress, a strange sense of catharsis. Now, though, he holds the cigarette out to Arthur.
“Take only a small drag. Nearly more like you’d suck on it than inhaling, otherwise you’ll get it into your lungs, and you don’t want that.”
Art chuckles.
“Hey, there are advantages to getting taught by your boyfriend, it seems. Other guys tend to just let you at it and then laugh when you cough for the next few minutes.”
~
As Arthur flicks his eyes from the end of the cigarette to Quincy’s face, he catches what he thinks looks almost like a fading moment of fear… and he remembers all the burns he healed when Quincy tried to use the leylines to get through the door- which feels like a long time ago in some ways, and very recently in others, and really was only a week and a half ago, objectively.
But probably, Quincy wouldn’t want attention drawn to that, so instead, he listens and takes the cigarette from him and follows his instructions- very glad he has a boyfriend who explains it properly. And that he asked.
Putting an arm around Arthur’s shoulders and rubbing his side, Quincy grins at Art.
“Other guys don’t ruin their chances for better emotions than amusement by being idiots. I have a vested interest in a happy boyfriend.”
~
“One would hope you also have a vested interest in the happiness of your fiancé.”
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