Chapter 5
Previously: Obsidian: Crystal Heart – Chapter 4
The tower only gets more amazing as they get closer- Arthur sees stained-glass pictures in the windows, which are set in beautifully arched and carved wooden frames, and the sparkles in the walls turn out to be gemstones embedded in the rock. The door is a blue that he’s pretty sure matches the shingles of the roof and contrasts nicely with the paler stone of the walls at the bottom in which it is set.
~
Carefully setting them all down on the little patio before the door, Darcy can’t hold in a giggle as she runs up to it and waits how long it’ll take Arthur to solve the letter puzzle. It took them a while to find a good anagram and for John to make the letters flow back and forth seamlessly no matter how one tries to get them in the correct order to be able to read the sentence, but she’s just so excited that they kept at it.
~
Also, they made a puzzle just for him! Arthur feels like he could burst with happiness. And of course, John can provide him with dreamscape pen and paper so he can start working out what it says. And also, he can move the letters over the door around with his hands, rearranging them in their word patches until eventually, it says: “Only those who speak the mage’s word may enter into Arthur’s Tower”
He tilts his head: “The mage’s word? Is that a specific one, or one I pick?”
~
Looking a little bit sheepish, Darcy explains that no, this isn’t like her ‘universal magical word’ riddle from the treasure hunt, it’s up to Arthur. “This is your magical tower, you set the key. We’ll hold our ears shut, too!” With a wink from Quincy and a nod from John, they do just that.
~
His own secret password. Arthur bounces a little as he thinks about it. Well… it’s not really like there’ll be strangers in John’s dreamscape, right? So it doesn’t need to be super-secure. And he wants something that… commemorates the occasion. So he decides on: “Christmas Eve!” Because that’s when they all had so much fun together, and the occasion John made this gift for, and it just seems right.
The letters pulse once in a silver glow before solidifying out into metal, sinking into the wood, and the sounds of complicated gears rattling against each other can be heard as the door swings open slowly. It reveals an entrance hall in deep, warm tones of wood, panelling on the walls playing against the contrasting stone colours. From the stairs at the back of the hall, two small figures come running: Katherina and a cat-sized Hannibal.
Arthur steps through the door, and laughs in delight, crouches down and reaches out his hands to the animals. “Is that really them or did you make, uh, dream copies?” he asks John. “And also, Hannibal is cute when he’s this small!”
~
“Copies, sorry, I can’t find the real versions.” John is definitely not going to say he can only get actual people in, because Darcy gave him the offended death glare to end all death glares last time he questioned some of her night friends’ personhood like that. “Hannibal gets big when you take him outside for a ride, but in here he helps Katharina with keeping your rampant cloud mouse problem at bay.”
“Without hurting them, of course!” Darcy adds with a decided nod that has Quincy giggle.
~
“Cloud mice must be cute! I’m all for them not getting hurt,” Arthur agrees, grins at Darcy while he pets his dream animals. They might not be the real ones, but they’re certainly just as demanding of cuddles. “Let’s go explore everything!” he invites the others.
The tower has everything a dream mage tower should have: star charts that move at a touch, maps that do the same, crystal balls that actually show pictures in their depths, artefacts from all sorts of stories, and even a playroom for Katharina and Hannibal with toys and a big, comfy sofa to cuddle up with both of them. No bedroom, of course, but the top of the tower is a library, with a view all across the bay and the city and the surrounding jungles, the distant dots of islands across the blue sea. It also has doors out onto the balcony he saw from below. And on there is a sturdy rope that runs over to one of the towers in the city. On the line, there is a tiny gondola, just big enough to be drawn by the bat that hangs from a perch at the front of it, wrapped up and sleeping.
John explains that just as Hannibal will grow to his full size outside the tower, Arthur will shrink if he steps onto the little ladder up to the gondola so he’ll fit inside, and the bat can draw the gondola back up from the city- if he asks nicely, Darcy adds. And of course, he will ask nicely! Even if it’s a dream bat.
He really wants to try out the gondola, but first, he needs to explore the library a bit, curious about how books in the dreamscape even work.
Very different from books in the real world, it turns out- it’s more like remembering the sensations of reading them, and the most impactful words. It won’t replace reading in the real world for him, but he is very touched when he finds the big sections of fairy tales and plays that Darcy and Quincy obviously helped create, so it’s a bit like having his friends read him their favourite books.
But before he gets lost in that, he also wants to explore the rest of the dreamscape and the new things in it, like the city he gathers John built because of Quincy. And also, he wants to try out that zipline.
Which is exactly as much fun as it looks. Everything turns huge, and into a rush of blues and greens, and the bat doesn’t even wake up for it.
Darcy flies John and Quincy over alongside him, looking like a giant while he’s in the gondola.
They spend hours exploring the city, with Quincy showing off elaborate towers and palaces with enough pride you’d think he’d built them himself, rather than John.
Eventually, he returns to his tower to explore those lovely dream books more while the other three head off on a ‘date’- John snorted and Quincy giggled when Darcy said they could postpone it more if Arthur wanted to stay with them, so he’s not sure what’s not date about it, but much as he appreciates the offer, he doesn’t want to keep them from their fun, and he does have a lot to explore in his very own mage tower. So he assures Darcy that it’s fine, and he wants to try out the bat gondola in reverse anyway. (It’s much slower, which is also nice- he gets to enjoy the spectacular view.)
~
30 Dec 1899
Why isn’t Darcy surprised one bit that Gregory picked right the time when John is still out at his workout to come pester her in her study? And there she was just about to get started into it nice and early so she doesn’t have to deal with paperwork the next day when the silly New Year’s ball is going on in town. Ugh, what is it now?
Her crossed arms turn both palms slapped down hard on her desk when he tells her that he can’t keep seeing her like this. She needs a secretary! All the nobles have one and she’s not even properly trained and there’s so much work to be done. Especially since she’s behind with what she pulled over this ‘Radu guy’.
Oh don’t you dare! Don’t you ever dare say anything like this again! The mention of Radu drives a dagger, or is that a demon claw?, of hurt and loss into her heart, but it’s soothed over quickly because she remembers Quincy and John spending so much time to let her dreams soar again. Yes, she lost a love, but she regained her dreams with the two men she does have guiding her through the pain.
More importantly right now, a secretary? He can’t be serious! In this household? Has he forgotten that she’s a dhampir and her heir is an aberration and her scholar is the son of a wanted criminal?! She can’t have a secretary. It’s not safe! This is her household, her burden and duty and yes, privilege to protect them.
Just because he can’t understand any of this political stuff and thinks he can just do whatever he wants doesn’t mean she can or should! No!
Also, she’s not alone! She’s pointing at the opening door, expecting John, but then it’s Quincy and that makes her smile through all her anger and growling. She knows Quincy got upset about Gregory yesterday, so now she’s only extra protective, but here he is, only twitching for one moment, giving her a searching look then strolling over to his usual spot and oh… oh, he must have heard her thoughts, because he’s sitting down with a: “Your secretary reporting for duty, my baroness!”
There! She’s building herself up even taller and then showing Gregory the door, she has people who help her with the barony work so he can stop worrying and go back to what he does while she’s working for all their good.
For a moment, she’s not sure if he’ll leave, but then he’s gone, not through the door, through that silly cat teleporting he does, and she suspects he’s off whoring or some such again, and she really doesn’t care as long as he doesn’t endanger the people she cares about, like her Quincy, strong and always so good with saying the right things.
With a sigh and smile she settles back down into her chair, leans over to kiss him, and all her anger evaporates. Gregory isn’t worth being this upset about anyway.
~
Well, that was more excitement than the paperwork normally is. Quincy’s still glad he walked in when he did. He doesn’t want Cobb to be an arse to his Cycy any more than he wants the arse on his own neck but still, ugh.
Sorting through mail is boring in comparison, maybe an okay kind of boring for the moment, until he spots an anomaly. Is that a postcard? A Christmas card, to be exact, and it’s addressed to Arthur.
To nobody’s surprise, Darcy is all crestfallen that they didn’t spot it earlier, it’s after Christmas, and her poor Arthur-dear. While he pokes her that that’s idiotic and not her fault, he still offers to run it over to him right away, he already sorted her out some of the usual requests that she’s the best with anyway. He’ll be right back. Getting out and the open sky over his head will do him some good, he thinks.
~
The rhythm of these days, going riding and looking after the animals, having lunch and tea and dinner with everyone most days, working together on the barony things, feels like a suitable way to end a year. Well… and a century. From the newspapers, Arthur gathers the rest of the country is a bit more excited about that bit than he is, but he’s just glad to be having friends, and really, mostly he just hopes that he’ll get to spend the next century, or, well, his part of it, with them, too.
Darcy and Quincy and John are almost always together, but it never feels like they’d rather he wasn’t there when he’s with them, so really, he’s happy about the peaceful feeling of everyone getting along.
So he’s surprised when Quincy shows up once more in the stables just when he’s about to head out for his morning ride. This time, he’s in the process of brushing Hannibal, and it’s got to be just after breakfast for Quincy.
“What’s up?” he asks, because something certainly is.
~
“We only now found a Christmas card for you in the mail pile, honey. Sorry about that. Cycy sent me over right away with it.” Without thinking about it patting Hannibal on the head, Quincy walks up to Arthur, holds out the card.
~
Arthur taps the brush out and puts it on the edge of the stall door, leans against Hannibal, who gives Quincy a friendly nudge for the pat and starts sniffing his pockets for treats, and flips over the card. Who’d send him a Christmas card?
Eglantine, as it turns out, and he feels himself pale as his eyes take in the text, makes a little noise that might be an ‘eep’.
Surprised by that reaction, Quincy leans in, tries to get a look at the card, too. “What’s wrong? Totally forgot that you should have sent one, too?”
~
Arthur shakes his head vigorously. “It’s… it’s from the Shiver.” He tilts it so Quincy can read how it says: “Season’s Greetings, little Arthur! I’m not sure, but I heard Johnny mumble something and I’m going to interpret that as he says hi, too! Many kisses, Eglantine”
What does it mean? Why would Eglantine send a card? Did his father tell her to do it? Also… also… “Johnny”?? It’s just… it’s just so wrong, he doesn’t even know where to start.
~
After reading that over twice and still not really having a good idea what’s going on, Quincy still takes the card away from Arthur and holds it out to Hannibal. “Be a good horse and make it disappear, you guys eat anything anyway.”
Expecting to get slobbered on for that but thinking it’s probably worth it, he turns back to Arthur because only because he has no clue what’s up with the card, doesn’t mean he can’t see that Arthur is upset. “Now back up, honey. I think I know the Shiver is a criminal organisation, not my strong point, but who are Eglantine and Johnny?” Quincy’s tempted to quip about somebody sending Arthur kisses, but he’s pretty sure that would just upset Arthur more.
~
Arthur distracts himself for a moment by watching Hannibal give Quincy an affronted look, including with a sliver of teeth under lifted lips. Nothing serious, of course, and then he pointedly turns up his nose.
Arthur leans onto his back, lets his arms drape over him. Right, Quincy… wouldn’t know, would he?
So he nods. “They’re magical criminals. ‘Johnny’ is, um…” It still sounds so wrong, anyone giving his father a nickname, “Jonathan Lancaster. My father. Eglantine is one of the other members.”
~
“So much for you being a trusty friend.” Quincy winks at Hannibal before, with a big production of huffing and sighing, turning the card into confetti and throwing it over Hannibal’s head. “So, that Eglantine’s trying to be your mommy now from the sound of it, and I take it you’re not in favour.”
~
Arthur gives Quincy a horrified look while Hannibal shakes bits of postcard out of his forelock with a snort.
“No, that… Just… Ew! That’s… that’s so wrong!” Especially with his actual mother lying dead and buried in the cellar.
Though… “I mean, unless that meant he’d kill her, too…” Wait, that was kind of a nasty thought. But then, Eglantine is nasty, too.
~
Oh dear, that is clearly getting to Arthur, so Quincy steps in and puts his arms around him. “Okay, honey, I still think I’m missing half the picture, but whatever it is, remember that I’m here for you. And so is growly Cycy and grunty darling, they’ll be the defence front.”
~
Arthur sighs, and lets himself lean against Quincy.
“My father is really nasty,” he explains. “He’s a necromancer and he curses people to die horribly when they get in his way and… and I think he and Eglantine are working on making monsters together out of plants and body parts of people and animals they kill. And also he killed my mother, I’m 99% sure. And my older sister, that I never knew I had, until Darcy found the skeletons in the cellar of the house.
And anyone giving someone like that a nickname is just… It’s just so wrong. And I don’t know what it means.” He waves a hand towards the scatter of postcard bits. “Is it a threat? Is it a taunt? The post stamp was from Whitby, which means they were here, recently.” He shivers.
~
Well shit. Wrapping himself more around Arthur, Quincy strokes his back again and hums for a few moments. What can he say? What should he say? Finally he decides on the obvious parts. He can’t change the past, but he can honour it and at the same time turn Arthur towards the future, which really is the only direction to go. “Maybe it is a threat, but after everything I’ve seen even just in the short time I’ve been here, it’s not one Darcy is going to sit on idly. If something is going on, she’ll protect you. Us. It’ll take more than yet another shitty father figure to stop her.”
~
Arthur smiles just a little. “She said she was going to bite him really badly the next chance she got. By which she means kill him, I’m pretty sure. And… and in principle, I should mind, but he’s so awful. He doesn’t bring anything good to the world. So… so really, the only thing I care about is that she doesn’t get hurt doing it.”
~
“She’s taking revenge for your mother and sister for you. I’m pretty sure she also said it as an expression of how important you are to her, that’s how my fallen angel is. She shows her feelings a bit differently from the rest of us. And however it goes, you’ll be there to heal her, John’s going to be there to fight at her side, and I’ll be in the back giving social support.” Kissing the top of Arthur’s hair softly, Quincy hugs him tight for another moment before leaning back a bit to look at him. “If you’re still feeling upset, you can always come up to the wolf den and just be around us. You’re not alone.”
~
“The wolf den?” Arthur looks up at him. “Is that what we’re calling the study now? Or do you mean Darcy’s room?”
~
“Right.” Noticing that that really could mean both, Quincy clarifies: “You are always welcome in the study and most of the time in the shared wolf and badger den that’s her room, but there you really might want to knock and give us time to answer.”
~
Arthur grimaces at that and nods vigorously. “Noted. Very noted.”
The grimace makes Quincy laugh and coo. “Sorry, I tried to formulate that gently for you. I remember what I promised, honey. Feeling okay to keep going with your day or should I grab a horse and come along for your ride?”
“I know, thanks,” Arthur says, because, yes, that was formulated about as round-about as it gets and he’s grateful for it. “Um… would you? I mean, I could go on my own, but…”
~
Tapping Arthur’s nose softly, Quincy lets go of him to stroll to one of the other stalls. “Would I offer if I had a problem with it? You’ll have to help me get the horse ready though, I can ride, but I have no idea how to put all those different things you need on.”
~
Arthur brightens, both at the nose tap and Quincy coming along. “Sure, I can do that! It’s easy with the fey horses anyway, since they’re so calm. Do you just want me to do it, or do you want me to show you how to do it?”
~
“Honey, now don’t take this the wrong way, but no, thank you very much, that’s dirty work, my poor nails.” Pulling a hand back, the thought of not only getting the hair but whatever gets stuck in horse’s hooves on him has Quincy pull a revolted face before he shakes himself. “No, no, all yours.”
~
That makes Arthur chuckle. “Sure, no problem.”
Since Hannibal is already brushed and has more attitude than the fey horse, he takes the fey horse out of the stall and gets it fully ready first before finishing up with Hannibal’s tack.
They have a nice ride. The wind is breaking up the clouds today, so they’re in big, grey and white piles with patches of pale blue sky and sunlight in between that glistens on the damp grass and leaves, makes everything sparkle. By the time they get back, Arthur of course still doesn’t know what the postcard was about, but Quincy is right- he has Darcy to defend him if his father tries anything, and John and Quincy, too. Whatever the Shiver is up to, they’ll just have to deal with it when the time comes.
~
The dreamwalker has stolen its food! No matter when it seeks them out, they are now always together! And when the dreamwalker goes to train, they are with Arthur!
There are plenty of Midgardians to feed from in the city, but it takes a lot longer to gather all their little hums and vibrations instead of partaking of the deep, strong waves of its tuned dhampirs. That leaves it little time to stalk them for those precious moments they are alone that must exist.
It considers tuning Arthur, after all, but… He also now spends much time with the dreamwalker and the dhampirs. They might notice. Arthur might notice, and that is to be avoided. He might not have brought it here on purpose, but that does demonstrate that he has the power to do so- the power to destroy it, therefore, too.
No, no- better to be patient. The winter breeds plenty of helplessness in the city, and there are always Midgardians prone to anger to be found. There will have to be an opportunity to get rid of the dreamwalker at some point.
Or perhaps it will find some other food worthy of tuning.
~
31 Dec 1899
Having a molly for his bro is still fucking strange but it also comes in handy in the most surprising ways. John, of course, has long finished with the logistics for the end-of-the-century ball today. Darcy stresses enough about balls as is, she doesn’t need to notice at the last minute that something isn’t prepared. Still, no matter how prepared they are, Darcy always pouts and grumbles about the silly ball all day long, or at least, she did, up until their molly gave her big, sad eyes if that means that he can’t play dress-up with her for it.
Did his girl ever do a fucking 180 at that and now he’s sitting a door down and still hearing them giggle themselves hoarse. Say what you want about him feeling a bit awkward about mollies, but that one’s a lifesaver and just, he makes his girl happy, he’s doing things for her John never could and, okay, fine, fuck, he kind of adores the guy. He’s a handful and a pest and he’d punch anybody who complains about that.
Another point he’ll definitely never say out loud is that, fuck, he knows how to make Darcy look great. The makeup on her is better than anything she’s ever had on in front of him but, huh, no, actually, sure, she looks styled like nothing, but what makes her so breathtaking is the way she’s smiling and twirling to show off. The sound of her comfortable laughter, that’s what makes John incapable of thinking straight.
There’s just one problem, where the fuck is her useless husband? The baroness can’t show up alone to that ball and it’s already ten minutes later than they had agreed to set out.
John’s tempted to get angry at the dolt when Quincy leans on the desk in the study and gives him a long look, moves side to side before he starts grinning. “So, darling, want me to work that handsome stubble out a bit more before you escort your baroness to the ball? Only right for the man of the house, who also happens to be heir, to do it.”
Uh, what? Him? At a ball? But he… but he fucking what?
Quincy’s right! And John isn’t just saying that because he saw Darcy light up at the thought of him coming with her. Although, yes, fine, that’s a big factor. He can go to a ball with his girl. He might not have studied up on all the rules as much as her and Arthur, but, pff, Gregory went before, he can only do better than that.
Wait a moment… Now his devious brain came back on, and he won’t punch it out this time, no, this might be the perfect revenge. So with a scratch to said stubble, he stands up and slaps Quincy’s shoulder. “Good that you obviously played dressup right along with Darcy, because what would the baroness and her heir do without their Arts and Culture advisor at the ball she wanted to announce that she has acquired the old theatre? I sure can’t babble on all evening long about theatre and what this grey world needs to be kicked into, but you can. Get a move on, Molly.”
One of these days, his eardrums are going to give out. Two redheads squealing has to be unhealthy. That has to be louder than his shotgun, even. But they look happy. The only person here who likes balls can actually come along, Darcy has an excuse to talk about things she has an actual interest in, and well, John gets to dance with his girl plus protecting her from being crowded.
Plus, and he’s only telling their molly that because Darcy is going to be tired enough from the politicking she still has to do, this way they can start the rumours about the husband being problematic. Quincy gets to admit that it was the knight postulant who was ever so eager to become his patron, which is a bit baffling, given that it’s the baroness with the real interest in the arts. But well, his mother is a recent widow and he was grateful for the opportunity to step up to his new role of provider for his family without having to leave the arts.
Oh yes, all in all, John thinks for a ball, this went fucking fine. He’s tired by the time they are in the coach they rented for the way back, but he has Darcy’s upper half on his lap and his bro (with the rest of Darcy on his lap) at his side doing a battle review with him.
Now he just hopes that Arthur has calmed down at the castle. Of course they checked with him if he has any clue where the cat is, but no luck there, either. They promised to be back in time to ring in the new century with him, but John’s pretty sure Arthur was stressing. Yeah, getting out of the wards into the night is a risk, he’s right, but John refuses to just hunker down eternally.