Chapter 6
Previously: Obsidian: Ash and Moonbeams – Chapter 5
“It would be for the best to get Darcy back first, but overall, yeah.”
There’s probably nothing they can do right this second, so Art backpedals a bit to get to another topic in hopes of getting Arthur feeling better even with the standstill. “Speaking of son, I think I’ve spotted something else. Want to know about it?”
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Arthur wipes an arm over his eyes, more than ready for a change of topic. So he nods and hopes his eyes aren’t too embarrassingly red-rimmed while he looks at Art.
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Good, that got the kid’s attention, so Art winks with a grin. “You and Jack share more than the scholarly type. I’ve seen sugar doll push and poke, but you still haven’t caught on that she’s been trying to give you a papa. You are just as socially unaware as he is, right? You totally didn’t notice, did you?”
Leaning back again and pulling his coffee mug over from the other side of the table, for once glad about the magic house free refill, Art looks at Arthur to see if he’ll even manage to copy one of Jack’s insecure faces at that statement.
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Arthur blinks in surprise. “…Dr Seward is bad at being social?” Darcy has been.. trying to ‘give him a papa’? And Dr Seward, at that? Arthur has no idea what he thinks or feels about that- some kind of confusing mix of being pleased and intimidated and scared and bewildered, and maybe some other things.
No, he definitely didn’t notice.
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Yupp, totally copying Jack’s ‘does not compute’-face there. Finally something Art can laugh about and obviously will jump on to poke fun at his best friend- lovingly, of course.
“So damn bad! He can be adorable in how lost he gets sometimes. Put him at a bedside and he’s textbook perfect, down to that smile I know is completely fake, but throw him into a social situation and he’s all ‘I don’t know what to feel and what I feel and why do none of these social rules make any sense?’. I mean, I didn’t even feel good about winning Lucy’s ‘yes’ when we three proposed that day. No wonder he didn’t get anywhere with her by mumbling the proposal at his shoes while playing with a scalpel, because of course that was the first thing he found in his pockets. Ugh, I love the man to pieces but he’s a disaster sometimes.”
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“…Well, social rules don’t make any sense,” Arthur finds himself forced to agree. And didn’t he just think that he wasn’t sure what he was feeling? “But, uh… he always looks so calm and like he knows what he’s doing…”
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“He’s had a lifetime to train himself to appear that way, and don’t get me wrong, he’s the smartest guy I know. When that brain of his clicks into tactical mode, damn, I don’t want to be at the centre of his scheming. But put him at a social event and he turns into my shadow.”
Turning his cup between his hands Art smiles fondly. “Remember that’s him, too, when you aren’t sure what to think about Darcy trying to share her bestest papa with you. Remember he struggles, too, and is trying really hard for you. I’ve seen it. In the middle of us dealing with shit he tries to give you encouragement.”
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Arthur turns that over in his mind. And it’s true, isn’t it? Dr Seward has been… nice? Encouraging?
He finds himself blushing a little as he realises really what Art is saying: That Dr Seward is… trying to be… fatherly with him? Just because Darcy wants him to?
“I… Um, I’ll try and remember? At first, I thought he was really strict and kind of scary, but… he’s not really, is he? He helped with the Christmas games, too. Um… Does he know that Darcy is missing?”
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“He helped with your birthday, too, I’m going to tell on him and Darcy that that wasn’t the house who made you the decorated cake.”
Would Art ever prefer to stay with that topic… and actually, screw this, he will, there’s nothing good coming from just circling around the problem. “He does and I suspect Lucy mind-controlled him to actually get some sleep. So, let me get some nicer things to tell him when he wakes back up, at least I hope it’s nicer, because I wanted to ask you how that saddle for that big, cuddly horse of yours there is working out?”
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“It’s awesome, really comfortable! For me and Hannibal,” Arthur assures him. “We like it way better than the one the house gave us- um, sorry, house!” he adds, since he doesn’t want to insult its hospitality. “But, uh… mind control again?” Lucy mind-controlled Dr Seward into sleeping? …That’s possible?
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“Oh yes, better than him getting morphine ideas again. Nasty habit, I tell you. But I’m so glad to hear that you two enjoy the saddle.” With a slight tilt to his head and a bright smile, Art adds another question: “And what about the book I got you? I don’t have a clue about magic; I hope I didn’t totally screw that up.”
“Uh…” Now Arthur looks sheepish. “My Romanian isn’t good enough to understand most of it yet… But I’m really looking forward to being able to!” he adds hurriedly. “I promise I’m studying as much as I can!”
The quick add-on has Art lift his eyebrows. “I wasn’t checking in on your studies, Arthur. I care that you have fun with what you read, too.”
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“Um, yes…” Arthur isn’t sure what to make of that- he hadn’t thought Art was checking in, but he didn’t want him to think he was a slacker or didn’t appreciate his gift…
Leaning an elbow on the table, Art looks at him for a few moments. “Okay, how did I just screw up?”
That makes Arthur only more confused. “Uh… you didn’t? Just… well, I didn’t think you were checking in, just, um… I didn’t want to sound like I’m slacking off or don’t appreciate your gift…?”
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“Yeah, that right there tells me I did screw up. You worry about me thinking you slack off or feeling underappreciated. As if you owe me work or appreciation. It’s a gift, not a threat.”
Shoving his empty mug aside, Art settles in a bit more, because now he wants to know how he can change Arthur’s discomfort around him… Okay, okay, he’s not that stupid, he knows he’s dadding on him and no, he’s not going to stop. It’s what he wanted for years, he’ll do it on the bunch of them if he can. Who says that Jack is the only one who gets to play papa, well, daddy? He likes his title!
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Arthur turns Art’s words over in his head- he’s never looked at it like that, but… “I… don’t?” That seems… very counter-intuitive.
“Why do you think you do?” Art’s voice is gentle as he asks.
“Um… because you’re an adult?” Arthur offers, a bit hesitant. “One kind of also in charge of…” He waves a vague hand at their surroundings.
“I’m not. Darcy is in charge, Miss Powlett is here for political advising if I caught that right. And you and John have been at Darcy’s side far longer. Also, legally, you are adults, no matter that me old fart calls you ‘kids’.” Leaning his head on a hand, Art pauses a bit then adds: “And even if you weren’t, I’m not owed shit just by virtue of having managed to not fall off a horse and break my neck for this long.”
Arthur blinks some more, not sure how to integrate that position into his world view- it doesn’t really seem to fit anywhere…
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Seeing that obvious confusion, Art shakes his head. He can tell when he’s running up against a wall.
“Fine, okay, if it’s easier for you to feel you owe me something, then can I make a suggestion?” He’s going to be a cheat, but then, anybody who ever played cards against him should know that. Hell, Arthur should know that, he was there when Art taught him and Lucy Jr card counting.
“I don’t know if it’s easier, just, uh… more sense-making?” Arthur looks sheepish but gives him a nod.
“Good, then call me ‘Dad’ and you owe me some self-worth-” To really milk this for all the joy it brings him, Art breaks into a grin before adding: “Son.”
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Arthur looks at Art, stunned, then blushes.
“…Really?”
Art saying that Darcy had been trying to… share Dr Seward as ‘Papa’ with him was big enough, but now Art is sitting right there and offering that, and… It is very overwhelming. Arthur isn’t sure he dares believe it- there is such a sharp pang in his chest that it takes him a moment to understand it means he really, really wants this.
“Yes, really. Darcy gave you a papa, I’ll just be so bold and add a daddy to the mix, but you’re a bit too old for using that, so dad it is. You’ve been dad-less for way too damn long, and if I just wait for you to realise that, you’ll grow out of the last few bits of maybe wanting one. I’m not letting that chance pass me by.” Reaching over again, Art ruffles his hair with a chuckle, still grinning.
Arthur starts cautiously beaming at him. “Um… thanks?” He really hopes he’s managing to express how much this means to him.
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“Yeah, if I’m letting only Jack at this you wouldn’t have noticed because you are a bit too obviously already his kid. No wonder Darcy likes you!” Laughing, Art leans back in his chair, imagining the squealing and bouncing he’ll get from Darcy when she hears that he’s being nice to Arthur.
From his new position, he spots John and Quincy walking up and that just makes him smile more. They are about as unlikely a pair of best friends as him and Jack are but he knows how much that’s worth.
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Arthur isn’t sure what to make of ‘obviously already being Dr Seward’s kid’- it’s not obvious to him! But also apparently not to Dr Seward, which is why they obviously are posited to be related now… He’s confused, so he’s happy to notice Art, uh, Dad, looking at something and seeing John and Quincy as he turns his head.
Quincy’s hair is neatly and freshly cut, no more burnt ends, and whoever did it (John? Who else could’ve done it? Can the castle cut hair?) made very sure to leave it as long as possible, Arthur thinks. The strand covering his forehead is longer than the rest, even. He’s also wearing make-up in a way that it’s actually visible to Arthur, dramatic lines around his eyes that make them look pale and like they all but glow. He and John are walking so close that their shoulders occasionally touch, they even almost fit through the kitchen door at the same time.
“You look fancy,” Arthur tells him, a bit impressed, though not sure what the occasion is.
“As he should!” John sounds very decided about that as he pulls out a chair for Quincy, who smiles at him for it before gliding into position.
“What are you three honeys up to? Since when is Hannibal an indoor horse?”
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Art is still smiling, to him it’s plain obvious that Quincy needed to make himself feel more confident, needed to practice a bit of self-care with putting a more aggressive face on. Oh, and right, John kicked them out earlier, time for some fatherly backup on what he did being the right thing, so he nods paternally.
“Good job at patching him back together. That’s what a real man and soldier does! I’m proud of you, son.”
Just about to sit down himself, John coughs, hand instantly going to his neck as he tries to mumble a thanks, covers it up with leaning down and petting Hannibal’s shoulder. Well, looks like Art hit that round of encouragement right. If Jack gets to do the scholarly thing with Arthur, then Art better get in gear to do all the things he always wanted to do with a son of his own with John.
Of course, if Arthur wants in on the riding, shooting, and drinking, he’s more than welcome, but somehow Art suspects only one of those to be high on Arthur’s list.
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“Breakfast,” Arthur answers Quincy with a wave at the table. “And I kind of forgot about bringing Hannibal back outside…” He gives him an apologetic look, but apparently cuddles and bits of his breakfast sausage are enough to make Hannibal quite happy with where he is. “So he, uh, kind of came to find me?” Arthur scratches his fingers through Hannibal’s mane again. “But probably I should do that soon- the bringing-him-outside.” Hannibal flicks his ears and gives a huff that sounds very “whatever” to Arthur, like he can’t really be bothered either way.
But he remembers now that he talked with Quincy about finding Darcy, in Faerie if they have to, but now, with how that ward attacked them… Quincy and John really got hurt! And then there’s the cavalier way Llew is being unhelpful, and how he tricked them, and he also remembers how he just felt talking to Art: How he didn’t see that threat coming, how he was so focused on threats from outside, and now he wonders: Are they actually safe here? Are they… unobserved? How much do Llew and Eluned know about them, how much control do they have over the castle?
He’s let himself become complacent where their fae landlords are concerned, and that was a mistake. They should… Yes, they definitely should apply some more paranoia to the situation.
Just how? He glances around at the others, not sure how to express his concerns- not now that he’s started to wonder about whether they can be overheard or spied on or something.
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The first clue Quincy had was the way Arthur isn’t aware he’s giving away that his gears are turning, and not nicely turning, so he closed his eyes over the cup of tea he asked the house for and let his mind drift open. Yes, there is the whisper of Arthur’s mind, the sense of where Arthur is in the cloth of existence. Since Arthur talked so enthusiastically about his protection bracelet he’s been a sliver of amethyst in silver against Quincy’s mind, and now it’s murmuring to him.
Murmuring his worries about untrustworthy fae and the more Quincy listens in, the more he feels his neck hairs stand on edge. He never liked Llew, it was hate on first sight, and he should have hissed so much more. He should have…
Wait, bristling neck hairs. He’s always had a keen sense of danger, he can tell when people watch him. He could tell invisible Cobb spying on him right at the theatre already!
Listening to his instincts, and trying to ignore that they feel a little bit like a crackle, a little bit like another icy touch of all the things he’s been trying to push away all morning, he realises that yes, it’s there. It’s just not been as active as it normally is. It’s only a trickle, too constant, too magical, too unfamiliar and different from the more acute dangers he normally senses.
He overlooked it, but now that he focused on it, he all but feels Llew’s grin at the nape of his neck, and that’s enough for him to reach over to John. He doesn’t care how he might seem, he wants the protection!
And of course his darling can read him, he can see the discomfort, and in just a blink of an eye, they exchange the information in the dreamscape. John has his back, always had, his darling manly man always eager to spring into action.
“Hey Arthur, how about you don’t just bring Hannibal out. How about we all take a ride before we choke from the amount of perfume Molly has on?” John quips and doesn’t spare a moment to wait for agreement before marching off towards the stables, clearly playing it off as him fleeing from having been flustered just a moment ago.
Quincy could kiss him, but he plays into their ploy by snickering as he looks after him and tells Godalming to keep up the encouraging comments before getting up and emptying his tea in one go.
“I’ll be right out; I need to get taller boots if we’re going riding.”
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Arthur isn’t sure quite how it happened, but it seems the others have gotten onto the same page as him where ‘sudden paranoia’ is concerned. Maybe something with Quincy’s mind-reading and John’s dreamscape? Since it was John who just took the initiative.
However it happened, the fact that it did fills him with a little warm glow amid all the other emotions. They’re friends. He has friends, and they figure things out, and they have his back. So he starts shovelling the rest of his neglected breakfast in, says to Art: “That sounds like a great idea, doesn’t it? Um, maybe you can give me some more riding tips?”
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Art can tell a ploy unfolding with him out of the loop when he sees one. The kids are doing well, he’s glad to see it.
So sure, he’ll bite. Now he wants to know what’s going on himself, and he kind of forgot about getting himself food, so he capitulates on the whole ‘trying not to use the house ghost or whatever it is’. “Jack and I were infantry, not cavalry, but sure I can give you tips, son. Been riding horses since I was a boy. You saw all the cowboy books I have.”
Taking a bite out of his now-appeared sandwich, he remembers something else and snorts.
“I better fetch Ms Powlett, though. Not her favourite thing to miss information I gathered when she threw me out of bed earlier. I’ll meet you kids over in the stables in a bit.”
He can finish eating while he gets ready, or waits on the lady to get ready. He knows only too well that women are the ones that have to deal with a whole lot more bullshit on the changing front.
And he’s glad that he did remember to fetch her, because she is indeed off like a bullet, ready to finally be filled in, he supposes.
When they start to catch her up on the events of the morning as they leave the grounds, Art can see her relax a bit. Yeah, that one’s not fond at all of being left out. He spotted that before when she wasn’t invited to the dhampir testing. He can understand it, she’s in a precarious situation, her engagement with John the only power she holds, and really, it must be that worry-wipe from Lucy, but right now he primarily just feels bad for it.
Jack had called him a bad feminist influence on Darcy, as a joke of course, and he kind of prided himself on that. He better be the same for Ms Powlett. He knows the drill, after all. He always did it with Lucy while they grew up, no reason to not be supportively paternal rather than just supportively scoundrelly.
He leaves the explanations largely up to the kids, this really isn’t his operation to run, but he does poke on one thing: As the heir, with Darcy gone, John is currently in charge. He can make any decision he has to for the barony.
Art could have guessed what answer that would get: John’s not just going to wait around; they need to do something! Suggestions?
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Really? Arthur is the first one to comment? Not that John has a problem with that. He’s fuck out of ideas. Unless they get back to maybe using Hannibal to break down the door.
And he agrees that yes, they should go looking in Faerie, but he sadly also agrees with Quincy’s huff.
“Honeys, I’m all in favour, but as we’ve established, we can’t get in there! At least not without bloody Llew trying to murder me!”
Fuck, John can see that the hissing is there to paint over the fear. Not that he didn’t notice the way Quincy was glaring at the gaslamp in the bathroom while he was cutting his hair. Fire is not going to be his favourite thing for a long time to come, John suspects. It feels a bit weird, but frankly, that John can protect him from that a little bit is one of the few things holding him together.
He doesn’t like the thought of having to actually negotiate with the fae. Darcy has told him more than once that fae will trick you. Honestly, he thinks Llew tricked Darcy before, repeatedly. He has no interest in making the same mistake and fucking the situation up even worse.
Wait, maybe they can play one fae against the other? Lucy Jr has her own interests in Darcy, doesn’t she?
He can tell that the suggestion makes Quincy uncomfortable. John knows that his bro wants nothing to do with her if he can help it, too many bad memories of his grandfather… and potential family resemblance. But even with that discomfort, yes, Quincy backs him up that it might be their only option.
His fiancée even jumps in? And the reminder that he has a fiancée really only leaves him feeling more shit about the entire situation. He’s heir, as Godalming had to point out. He doesn’t fucking want to be! He doesn’t want to marry anybody but Darcy. She’s the whole reason Ms Powlett is here. Without her… no, he doesn’t want to be an arse towards her, either. Especially not when she makes a good point that she tried reading up about anything fae that might help and found the library suspiciously lacking.
He’s glad she can do some of the thinking here so that Arthur doesn’t have to do everything alone, because no, he’s sure as fuck not in the right mindspace to come up with any smart solutions. Although, Arthur also agrees that they have to use the resources they have. Okay, point, that technically includes Quincy’s mother.
It’s not much of a plan, but John still feels a little bit better when they turn back towards the fucking prison they apparently live in. He doesn’t like it, but he can tell that Quincy likes it even less. Great, just fucking great. He’d prefer coming up with plans to ditch this shitshow somehow, but with Darcy likely behind that door, they can’t. They are forced to stay around, to still be at the fucking fae’s mercy.
At least Art can get them outside help, he’ll ask Lucy for backup via Ms Basarab and books from the Court so that their smart folks can research at all, while him and Quincy are going to visit Lucy Jr. He sure as fuck isn’t going to let his bro go alone. Probably none of them should be alone, which yay, right back to the paranoia they had when they were freaking out about Radu, but now the wards aren’t a shield, now they are fucking part of the problem!
No, his temper can go fuck itself, not helpful right now.
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