NaNoWriMo Day 10
Nov. 11th, 2009 10:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wolfanfics(And I was going to post this last night but LJ crapped out on me just as I was going to post it so you're getting it now. XD)
FINALLY got some NaNoing done tonight after Lateline. Had a migraine all day, which kind killed my productivity. -_-
Also, my internet is still shit and I want a new keyboard. :(
Current mood: in need of fudz and sleep kthnx
Current word count: 21,023/50,000
Chapters completed: four. Started the fifth this evening.
Progress: *sighs* I should not be in the least bit surprised this is threatening to become an epic Andrew/Charles love story, should I? XD IDK. I'm making this shit up as I go along. I have mentioned before how any planning plot-wise on my behalf tends to be utterly subverted by my muses, so I haven't bothered this year and am just writing it as it comes along.
Drink of choice: Coke
Packets of noodles eaten: 4-6.
Hours of study completed: maybe one? If I'm being generous? XD
Current time: 12:55am :D (Well, it was when I wrote this. XD)
Current favourite song: 'Veridis Quo' by Daft Punk. IDEKW.
Current state of bedroom: In need of a tidy.
Cameos: Finally sorted and in place. Obvious? Possibly.
Time spent researching UK rail networks and steam locomotive history for last night's effort: 4 hours, in between watching TV, of course.
Was it really worth it?: IDK, but I got to look at photos of some pretty old abandoned train stations. :P
Other remarks: I seemed to write Vauxhill rather a lot. Go figure.
Anyway. I could go on all night, but I'm lazy and tired so I won't. Anyway. Have some writtinz. :D And you know, the usual 'it's just a draft and needs a clean up, all typos are my own' warnings, etc.
Chapter Four
A wandering minstrel I, a thing of threads and patches...
It had been a bloody long train ride. A very, very long train ride. Who knew time travel required such long journeys? The four travelling minstrels might have stayed home otherwise. It hadn't stopped them drinking beer and playing their instruments in the empty carriage they had commandeered. Okay, it wasn't entirely empty, it had a couple of bales of wool, but that was the extend of its cargo. They had sliced open one of the bales of wool to soften the wooden floor of the carriage as the long journey and the lull of the train had begun to coax them into sleep.
They had snuck onto the first train they could find at Liverpool's Edge Hill Station after breakfast one morning, picking one of the back carriages to hide themselves in. They'd arrived in Liverpool a few days earlier, though there was no sign of where they'd come from or how they'd managed to turn up so far back in time. To anyone who might've witnessed their arrival, it was as if they'd appeared out of nowhere. After taking a moment to find some clothes that blended in, they set off to find the train station and a train to Birmingham. They had posed as travelling minstrels or bards, partly for fun, and partly because it was easier to avoid detection, and their musical talent had earned them some money while they waited. That didn't mean they had to actually pay for tickets though. It felt better to sneak onto a carriage right before it left and travel for free. They might need the money later on. They were, after all, still human.
What had started as an enthusiastic jam session in the back luggage carriage of the train to alleviate boredom had, about two hours later, turned into three dozing travellers and one who was still quietly strumming his guitar as he hummed a soft tune. Otis was both singing them a lullaby and hoping one might wake up to talk to him. They had finally arrived in Manchester and Otis' sleeping companions had had to be woken in order to change trains. Finally, they settled, and Otis continued his gentle playing, passing the time before the train left again.
Otis had, for once, returned to singing in his native accent, for no other reason than he was feeling nostalgic to be returning to his home, even if it was in the past. He felt like a teenager again. Except older, and actually properly really truly with the ability to travel through time. He still got giddy at the thought.
One of the dozing travellers peered out from under his hat. His name was Charlie and his American accent had become a thing of curiosity amongst the pubs of Liverpool. "You gonna keep doing that all night? Cos I'm trying to sleep over here."
Otis looked over at them and stopped playing. "I wasn't making that much noise. Not my fault yer a light sleeper."
"Just get over here."
Acquiescing to his request, Otis carefully put his guitar away and joined his fellow traveller, lying beside him as they leant against the opened bale of wool that was headed for London.
"That better?"
"It'll do. Now shut up and sleep. It's not like you don't need it," came the reply from under the hat.
Otis shifted and go comfortable before settling down to sleep. He did need the rest, it was true, but he'd quite liked just playing to them as well. It didn't matter much though. He liked lying beside Charlie and his other half-brothers, Lucky and Nelson. They'd come a long way through time to be here for what was about to happen, and no one was prepared to jeopardise it for anything.
Otis was nearly asleep when the train began moving. The train jolted as the engine came to life and began taking its passengers and cargo on to Birmingham. The train took a while to reach its top speed of a blistering seventeen miles an hour. With the movement of the train, it was the perfect speed to gently rock its stowaways to sleep as it slowly made its way through the countryside as the sun, for once, shone down upon the land.
Chapter Five
Are We There Yet?
The movement of the train slowing down combined with the screech of the brakes woke the sleeping travellers out of their slumber a little before dawn. No one was eager to wake, but they might be nearing their destination and perhaps they might want to reconsider waking up enough to slip out of the train undetected.
"Where are we? Are we there yet?" Lucky murmured. He, too, was American. He was curled on his side as he dozed, facing the wall of the carriage.
"Fucked if I know. Bristol or something," Charlie drawled, remaining as he had been the entire journey.
"Birmingham. We ain't nowhere near Bristol. We are near Birmingham, aren't we?" Nelson said, sitting up as if he wasn't sure. He looked to Otis for reassurance, as if he knew the answer to everything.
"Dunno. Haven't looked yet," Otis replied.
"Well, are you going to look? Cos I am not staying in this train much longer," Charlie said.
Otis sighed and got to his feet. There was a small window in the door, and another small window on the other side of the carriage. Peering through them revealed a train station. He strained to see which station it was exactly.
"So, are we there yet?" Lucky said.
"I dunno. Maybe. I wasn't alive back then. I dunno what Birmingham's supposed to look like," Otis said.
"Well, you're a lot of help, aren't you?" Lucky said.
Otis gave up and lay down next to Charlie again. "Time travel is an inexact artform. Why do you think we're here a year earlier than we'd planned?"
"Because you don't know shit about time travel?" Charlie retorted.
"Oh, and I suppose you do, hey?" Otis said.
"I'm not the one who got us here early and a hundred miles from where we wanted to be," Charlie said.
"Will you two shut up? Some of us are trying to sleep," Lucky said.
"I reckon you should have another look. Go see which station we're at," Nelson said.
Otis got up. "Okay, fine. I'll go have another look."
The others remained as they were while Otis opened the door and peered down at the station, looking for some indication of where they were. He eventually caught sght of the name 'Vauxhill Station' written on the side of the station house.
"Ohh, shit, we'd better get off. We missed the big station. We'll have to walk into town," Otis said.
"At least it's a nice night for it, hey?" Charlie said as he got to his feet.
Keeping an eye out for guards and station masters, the four time-travellers slipped from the train carriage and scarpered off towards the track into town. They waited until the train was out of sight before beginning the last leg of their journey.
Leaving Home
Andrew had, unfortunately, slept longer than he had anticipated. His brother William had to wake him a little after nine so they could begin their moving. The carriages were waiting to take their belongings, and they really should not delay any further. Andrew was in no mood to hang around, and was soon out of bed and dressed, readying the last of his things to be packed away and transported across town.
Andrew's uncle had not exactly been quick to dissuade them from leaving, and Andrew had not expected he would bother. The sooner the heirs were out of sight, the better. By mid-afternoon, they had finished packing the carriages, and had had to call for another two to be able to safely carry all their possessions. Andrew hadn't expected it to take as long as it had, but William had needed some help, and arranging everything so that it fitted best took quite some time once they had brought all their trunks and boxes and crates down to the front of the mansion where the carriages were waiting outside.
Andrew's uncle sent them off with little ceremony. Their cousins did not bother appearing. All they had to do was get Andrew's motorbike so they could accompany the convoy through the streets towards Charles' estate. Andrew travelled a safe distance beside them, keeping pace as they admired the gleaming mechanical horses trotting with precision along the streets.
They really were strange beasts to look at. Andrew wasn't sure he quite agreed with the logic behind them. Then again, he wasn't really sure where all the horses had gone either, so in lieu of a better explanation, mechanical horses made perfect sense. Andrew desperately wanted to study one in detail, but he'd never been allowed to do so. He wanted to get one inside his workshop and figure out how it worked. They might be mechanical, and made from metal, but their movements were ... eerily accurate. Andrew suspected magic was involved, but he couldn't be sure.
An outbound train forced the convoy to stop at the crossing. Andrew pulled up beside one of the horses and reached out to touch it. It flinched and stamped its foot as he did so, and Andrew pulled his hand away, grinning with excitement and awe. This really was the next step in technological marvels. Andrew had never made anything that could move like this. He lacked the technical understanding to do so, and had always envied the friends who were studying engineering at university while he was stuck with medicine.
It was not that unusual to see a train coming out of the city towards the direction of Vauxhill Station; it had become more common in recent years, though for a time, no train travelled between New Street and Vauxhill Stations because of the mistrust between the two sides, and the fact that the King himself had decreed only the Royalists could have access to the train lines. The Royalists had surrendered the use of Vauxhill Station when the Dissenters took over the canals. The station was too close to their territory for them to feel safe using the line to transport their goods, even if the line was one that serviced links to London. The Grand Junction Railway had, unfortunately, suffered from the fracturing of Birmingham, and they paid a great price to both Royalists and Dissenters for continued access to the through stations to keep the country connected. It had become, in recent times, a mostly painless endeavour. Once the tolls were paid, the trains could continue as normal, though any trains passing through Vauxhall ran the risk of hijacking. It was a risk worth the price of profit, and while the company was perhaps not doing as well as it wanted to, it had become almost ruthless in their dealings with both parties to ensure their locomotives transported their cargo and passengers swiftly.
As the train finally passed, the convoy slowly began to move. Andrew made sure to keep up, though he couldn't resist a look at the train as it sped off, wondering what it might be carrying and where it might be going.
Charles was there to greet them, and Andrew could not help hugging him tightly once he dismounted from his motorbike. William, too, was given a tight hug, and Charles made the act of transporting their things to their new chambers a great amount of fun. Andrew was even pleased Craig was still beside the chest he had told him to guard with his life, though he had fallen asleep at last, and Andrew carefully set down the box he was carrying and knelt in front of Craig, gently brushing his cheek. Craig woke slowly, and once he realised Andrew was there in front of him, he panicked a little, knowing he had promised to stay awake.
"Oh, sir, I am so sorry, I didn't mean t'fall asleep. I stayed right beside it all night, sir, I promise," Craig said.
"It's okay. You did very well. Now do not ever try stealing from me ever again. However, if you are going to steal from someone, make sure they deserve it," Andrew said.
"I shall keep that in mind, sir," Craig said. "Can I look at what's in there now? I'm dead curious to know, sir."
"Tomorrow evening, if you are allowed to attend to me. We shall go through the chest then, you, William, and I," Andrew said.
"I shall do me chores and me training and I'll be there, sir. Wouldn't miss it for the world," Craig said.
"Go on, go get some sleep. You must be tired," Andrew said.
"Yes, sir, thank you, sir," Craig said. He bowed as he got to his feet and scampered out, glad he had managed to impress Andrew enough to let him see all the things that chest contained.
William arrived then, and noticed the chest Craig had been guarding. Andrew was just opening the chest he'd brought up, unpacking the chemical equipment that he did not just use for his medical practice.
"I do not remember that chest, brother. Are you keeping secrets from me?" William said as he approached.
"That is a secret for tomorrow. You are not to speak of it to anyone. That is our true inheritance, and we should not give it up for all the gold in the world," Andrew said.
"What is in there that's so precious?" William said.
Andrew leaned in and whispered a brief summary of the contents to him. He did not risk speaking them out loud until he had gone through them properly. William understood then, and clasped his hands. It did not sound like an inheritance they should let their uncle know about. William swore not to tell a soul. Andrew relaxed, and they continued unpacking.
To You I Belong
Charles had finally managed to get Andrew alone after supper. William had retired to his bed, leaving Andrew and Charles awake in the smoking room. It wasn't a particularly bad room, though Andrew had always hated the rug that covered the floorboards, and the hideous portrait of some distant ancestor that hung above the fireplace. It was a room, however, that boasted very comfortable chairs and a hot fire, and Andrew was willing to put up with ugly rugs and ugly paintings if it meant he was finally able to spend some time alone with Charles. It wasn't that they disliked William; there were just things the two of them shared that they shared with no one else, not even William, and neither were willing to compromise that promise.
"That university education has come in very useful, has it not? How else should I have arranged such manipulations as to entice both you and your brother into my service? You shall be well compensated, and finally I will have you all to myself," Charles said.
"It is a good thing my brother wishes to serve in your Army. He can be distracted," Andrew said.
"You are a treacherous dog, favouring me over him," Charles said, grinning in such a way that suggested he wholeheartedly approved.
"I am aware of this personal fault of mine, however, I hardly think it was all my fault. It is a matter of convenience, coincidence, and nothing more sinister than that. To think of anything else would indeed be treacherous," Andrew said.
"So treacherous I dare say you would not agree to come to bed with me, would you? It has been too long, dear friend, and I cannot bear the absence any longer," Charles said.
"How can I refuse such a generous offer from a very old friend?" Andrew said.
Charles smiled and took his hand. They finished their port and, hand in hand, made their way to Charles' private chambers. They would have all the privacy they needed there. No one would disturb them, not for anything. Such a relationship would not - could not - be permitted to get out. Every precaution must be taken to ensure their relationship, such as it was, was sacred and secret and kept between them and no one else.
They kissed under the chandelier, candlelight flickering off the walls, while the full moon beamed light down on the world. Andrew would not trade anything for the feel of his lover's kiss on his lips. They pretended they were equals; in reality, Andrew adored being under Charles' care, and the fact he was a proper Peer now meant everything to him. He would have his patron, and his security, and he would never be hungry again. The freedom Charles offered was more than Andrew could ever have accomplished on his own and he would be forever grateful for it.
Undressed, they slipped into Charles' bed and Andrew curled up beside him. Charles gently stroked his hair. He would do whatever it took to keep Andrew right there beside him. No one else would steal him from him. They shared another kiss, and Charles asked for his innocence, a request to which Andrew had no intention of saying no.
In summary: Charles is a possessive bastard, but we all knew that anyway. XD
*goes to do some actual study for once*
FINALLY got some NaNoing done tonight after Lateline. Had a migraine all day, which kind killed my productivity. -_-
Also, my internet is still shit and I want a new keyboard. :(
Current mood: in need of fudz and sleep kthnx
Current word count: 21,023/50,000
Chapters completed: four. Started the fifth this evening.
Progress: *sighs* I should not be in the least bit surprised this is threatening to become an epic Andrew/Charles love story, should I? XD IDK. I'm making this shit up as I go along. I have mentioned before how any planning plot-wise on my behalf tends to be utterly subverted by my muses, so I haven't bothered this year and am just writing it as it comes along.
Drink of choice: Coke
Packets of noodles eaten: 4-6.
Hours of study completed: maybe one? If I'm being generous? XD
Current time: 12:55am :D (Well, it was when I wrote this. XD)
Current favourite song: 'Veridis Quo' by Daft Punk. IDEKW.
Current state of bedroom: In need of a tidy.
Cameos: Finally sorted and in place. Obvious? Possibly.
Time spent researching UK rail networks and steam locomotive history for last night's effort: 4 hours, in between watching TV, of course.
Was it really worth it?: IDK, but I got to look at photos of some pretty old abandoned train stations. :P
Other remarks: I seemed to write Vauxhill rather a lot. Go figure.
Anyway. I could go on all night, but I'm lazy and tired so I won't. Anyway. Have some writtinz. :D And you know, the usual 'it's just a draft and needs a clean up, all typos are my own' warnings, etc.
Chapter Four
A wandering minstrel I, a thing of threads and patches...
It had been a bloody long train ride. A very, very long train ride. Who knew time travel required such long journeys? The four travelling minstrels might have stayed home otherwise. It hadn't stopped them drinking beer and playing their instruments in the empty carriage they had commandeered. Okay, it wasn't entirely empty, it had a couple of bales of wool, but that was the extend of its cargo. They had sliced open one of the bales of wool to soften the wooden floor of the carriage as the long journey and the lull of the train had begun to coax them into sleep.
They had snuck onto the first train they could find at Liverpool's Edge Hill Station after breakfast one morning, picking one of the back carriages to hide themselves in. They'd arrived in Liverpool a few days earlier, though there was no sign of where they'd come from or how they'd managed to turn up so far back in time. To anyone who might've witnessed their arrival, it was as if they'd appeared out of nowhere. After taking a moment to find some clothes that blended in, they set off to find the train station and a train to Birmingham. They had posed as travelling minstrels or bards, partly for fun, and partly because it was easier to avoid detection, and their musical talent had earned them some money while they waited. That didn't mean they had to actually pay for tickets though. It felt better to sneak onto a carriage right before it left and travel for free. They might need the money later on. They were, after all, still human.
What had started as an enthusiastic jam session in the back luggage carriage of the train to alleviate boredom had, about two hours later, turned into three dozing travellers and one who was still quietly strumming his guitar as he hummed a soft tune. Otis was both singing them a lullaby and hoping one might wake up to talk to him. They had finally arrived in Manchester and Otis' sleeping companions had had to be woken in order to change trains. Finally, they settled, and Otis continued his gentle playing, passing the time before the train left again.
Otis had, for once, returned to singing in his native accent, for no other reason than he was feeling nostalgic to be returning to his home, even if it was in the past. He felt like a teenager again. Except older, and actually properly really truly with the ability to travel through time. He still got giddy at the thought.
One of the dozing travellers peered out from under his hat. His name was Charlie and his American accent had become a thing of curiosity amongst the pubs of Liverpool. "You gonna keep doing that all night? Cos I'm trying to sleep over here."
Otis looked over at them and stopped playing. "I wasn't making that much noise. Not my fault yer a light sleeper."
"Just get over here."
Acquiescing to his request, Otis carefully put his guitar away and joined his fellow traveller, lying beside him as they leant against the opened bale of wool that was headed for London.
"That better?"
"It'll do. Now shut up and sleep. It's not like you don't need it," came the reply from under the hat.
Otis shifted and go comfortable before settling down to sleep. He did need the rest, it was true, but he'd quite liked just playing to them as well. It didn't matter much though. He liked lying beside Charlie and his other half-brothers, Lucky and Nelson. They'd come a long way through time to be here for what was about to happen, and no one was prepared to jeopardise it for anything.
Otis was nearly asleep when the train began moving. The train jolted as the engine came to life and began taking its passengers and cargo on to Birmingham. The train took a while to reach its top speed of a blistering seventeen miles an hour. With the movement of the train, it was the perfect speed to gently rock its stowaways to sleep as it slowly made its way through the countryside as the sun, for once, shone down upon the land.
Chapter Five
Are We There Yet?
The movement of the train slowing down combined with the screech of the brakes woke the sleeping travellers out of their slumber a little before dawn. No one was eager to wake, but they might be nearing their destination and perhaps they might want to reconsider waking up enough to slip out of the train undetected.
"Where are we? Are we there yet?" Lucky murmured. He, too, was American. He was curled on his side as he dozed, facing the wall of the carriage.
"Fucked if I know. Bristol or something," Charlie drawled, remaining as he had been the entire journey.
"Birmingham. We ain't nowhere near Bristol. We are near Birmingham, aren't we?" Nelson said, sitting up as if he wasn't sure. He looked to Otis for reassurance, as if he knew the answer to everything.
"Dunno. Haven't looked yet," Otis replied.
"Well, are you going to look? Cos I am not staying in this train much longer," Charlie said.
Otis sighed and got to his feet. There was a small window in the door, and another small window on the other side of the carriage. Peering through them revealed a train station. He strained to see which station it was exactly.
"So, are we there yet?" Lucky said.
"I dunno. Maybe. I wasn't alive back then. I dunno what Birmingham's supposed to look like," Otis said.
"Well, you're a lot of help, aren't you?" Lucky said.
Otis gave up and lay down next to Charlie again. "Time travel is an inexact artform. Why do you think we're here a year earlier than we'd planned?"
"Because you don't know shit about time travel?" Charlie retorted.
"Oh, and I suppose you do, hey?" Otis said.
"I'm not the one who got us here early and a hundred miles from where we wanted to be," Charlie said.
"Will you two shut up? Some of us are trying to sleep," Lucky said.
"I reckon you should have another look. Go see which station we're at," Nelson said.
Otis got up. "Okay, fine. I'll go have another look."
The others remained as they were while Otis opened the door and peered down at the station, looking for some indication of where they were. He eventually caught sght of the name 'Vauxhill Station' written on the side of the station house.
"Ohh, shit, we'd better get off. We missed the big station. We'll have to walk into town," Otis said.
"At least it's a nice night for it, hey?" Charlie said as he got to his feet.
Keeping an eye out for guards and station masters, the four time-travellers slipped from the train carriage and scarpered off towards the track into town. They waited until the train was out of sight before beginning the last leg of their journey.
Leaving Home
Andrew had, unfortunately, slept longer than he had anticipated. His brother William had to wake him a little after nine so they could begin their moving. The carriages were waiting to take their belongings, and they really should not delay any further. Andrew was in no mood to hang around, and was soon out of bed and dressed, readying the last of his things to be packed away and transported across town.
Andrew's uncle had not exactly been quick to dissuade them from leaving, and Andrew had not expected he would bother. The sooner the heirs were out of sight, the better. By mid-afternoon, they had finished packing the carriages, and had had to call for another two to be able to safely carry all their possessions. Andrew hadn't expected it to take as long as it had, but William had needed some help, and arranging everything so that it fitted best took quite some time once they had brought all their trunks and boxes and crates down to the front of the mansion where the carriages were waiting outside.
Andrew's uncle sent them off with little ceremony. Their cousins did not bother appearing. All they had to do was get Andrew's motorbike so they could accompany the convoy through the streets towards Charles' estate. Andrew travelled a safe distance beside them, keeping pace as they admired the gleaming mechanical horses trotting with precision along the streets.
They really were strange beasts to look at. Andrew wasn't sure he quite agreed with the logic behind them. Then again, he wasn't really sure where all the horses had gone either, so in lieu of a better explanation, mechanical horses made perfect sense. Andrew desperately wanted to study one in detail, but he'd never been allowed to do so. He wanted to get one inside his workshop and figure out how it worked. They might be mechanical, and made from metal, but their movements were ... eerily accurate. Andrew suspected magic was involved, but he couldn't be sure.
An outbound train forced the convoy to stop at the crossing. Andrew pulled up beside one of the horses and reached out to touch it. It flinched and stamped its foot as he did so, and Andrew pulled his hand away, grinning with excitement and awe. This really was the next step in technological marvels. Andrew had never made anything that could move like this. He lacked the technical understanding to do so, and had always envied the friends who were studying engineering at university while he was stuck with medicine.
It was not that unusual to see a train coming out of the city towards the direction of Vauxhill Station; it had become more common in recent years, though for a time, no train travelled between New Street and Vauxhill Stations because of the mistrust between the two sides, and the fact that the King himself had decreed only the Royalists could have access to the train lines. The Royalists had surrendered the use of Vauxhill Station when the Dissenters took over the canals. The station was too close to their territory for them to feel safe using the line to transport their goods, even if the line was one that serviced links to London. The Grand Junction Railway had, unfortunately, suffered from the fracturing of Birmingham, and they paid a great price to both Royalists and Dissenters for continued access to the through stations to keep the country connected. It had become, in recent times, a mostly painless endeavour. Once the tolls were paid, the trains could continue as normal, though any trains passing through Vauxhall ran the risk of hijacking. It was a risk worth the price of profit, and while the company was perhaps not doing as well as it wanted to, it had become almost ruthless in their dealings with both parties to ensure their locomotives transported their cargo and passengers swiftly.
As the train finally passed, the convoy slowly began to move. Andrew made sure to keep up, though he couldn't resist a look at the train as it sped off, wondering what it might be carrying and where it might be going.
Charles was there to greet them, and Andrew could not help hugging him tightly once he dismounted from his motorbike. William, too, was given a tight hug, and Charles made the act of transporting their things to their new chambers a great amount of fun. Andrew was even pleased Craig was still beside the chest he had told him to guard with his life, though he had fallen asleep at last, and Andrew carefully set down the box he was carrying and knelt in front of Craig, gently brushing his cheek. Craig woke slowly, and once he realised Andrew was there in front of him, he panicked a little, knowing he had promised to stay awake.
"Oh, sir, I am so sorry, I didn't mean t'fall asleep. I stayed right beside it all night, sir, I promise," Craig said.
"It's okay. You did very well. Now do not ever try stealing from me ever again. However, if you are going to steal from someone, make sure they deserve it," Andrew said.
"I shall keep that in mind, sir," Craig said. "Can I look at what's in there now? I'm dead curious to know, sir."
"Tomorrow evening, if you are allowed to attend to me. We shall go through the chest then, you, William, and I," Andrew said.
"I shall do me chores and me training and I'll be there, sir. Wouldn't miss it for the world," Craig said.
"Go on, go get some sleep. You must be tired," Andrew said.
"Yes, sir, thank you, sir," Craig said. He bowed as he got to his feet and scampered out, glad he had managed to impress Andrew enough to let him see all the things that chest contained.
William arrived then, and noticed the chest Craig had been guarding. Andrew was just opening the chest he'd brought up, unpacking the chemical equipment that he did not just use for his medical practice.
"I do not remember that chest, brother. Are you keeping secrets from me?" William said as he approached.
"That is a secret for tomorrow. You are not to speak of it to anyone. That is our true inheritance, and we should not give it up for all the gold in the world," Andrew said.
"What is in there that's so precious?" William said.
Andrew leaned in and whispered a brief summary of the contents to him. He did not risk speaking them out loud until he had gone through them properly. William understood then, and clasped his hands. It did not sound like an inheritance they should let their uncle know about. William swore not to tell a soul. Andrew relaxed, and they continued unpacking.
To You I Belong
Charles had finally managed to get Andrew alone after supper. William had retired to his bed, leaving Andrew and Charles awake in the smoking room. It wasn't a particularly bad room, though Andrew had always hated the rug that covered the floorboards, and the hideous portrait of some distant ancestor that hung above the fireplace. It was a room, however, that boasted very comfortable chairs and a hot fire, and Andrew was willing to put up with ugly rugs and ugly paintings if it meant he was finally able to spend some time alone with Charles. It wasn't that they disliked William; there were just things the two of them shared that they shared with no one else, not even William, and neither were willing to compromise that promise.
"That university education has come in very useful, has it not? How else should I have arranged such manipulations as to entice both you and your brother into my service? You shall be well compensated, and finally I will have you all to myself," Charles said.
"It is a good thing my brother wishes to serve in your Army. He can be distracted," Andrew said.
"You are a treacherous dog, favouring me over him," Charles said, grinning in such a way that suggested he wholeheartedly approved.
"I am aware of this personal fault of mine, however, I hardly think it was all my fault. It is a matter of convenience, coincidence, and nothing more sinister than that. To think of anything else would indeed be treacherous," Andrew said.
"So treacherous I dare say you would not agree to come to bed with me, would you? It has been too long, dear friend, and I cannot bear the absence any longer," Charles said.
"How can I refuse such a generous offer from a very old friend?" Andrew said.
Charles smiled and took his hand. They finished their port and, hand in hand, made their way to Charles' private chambers. They would have all the privacy they needed there. No one would disturb them, not for anything. Such a relationship would not - could not - be permitted to get out. Every precaution must be taken to ensure their relationship, such as it was, was sacred and secret and kept between them and no one else.
They kissed under the chandelier, candlelight flickering off the walls, while the full moon beamed light down on the world. Andrew would not trade anything for the feel of his lover's kiss on his lips. They pretended they were equals; in reality, Andrew adored being under Charles' care, and the fact he was a proper Peer now meant everything to him. He would have his patron, and his security, and he would never be hungry again. The freedom Charles offered was more than Andrew could ever have accomplished on his own and he would be forever grateful for it.
Undressed, they slipped into Charles' bed and Andrew curled up beside him. Charles gently stroked his hair. He would do whatever it took to keep Andrew right there beside him. No one else would steal him from him. They shared another kiss, and Charles asked for his innocence, a request to which Andrew had no intention of saying no.
In summary: Charles is a possessive bastard, but we all knew that anyway. XD
*goes to do some actual study for once*