Author's notes: I have recently completed Amnesia and absolutely LOVED it. The atmosphere and environment was spectacular, and I really enjoyed the investigation into the characters... my hope is that the next game continues with this trend of creating interesting characters! Anywho, this fic does contain a little bit of slash between Daniel and Alexander, taking place before Daniel knows about the murders and that darker stuff.
Daniel sat with Alexander quietly in the guest bedroom, watching the man rather openly. Being the well-mannered Englishman he was, Daniel knew he should probably stop, but he was enthralled by his benefactor. He had agreed to take him in, offering him protection from what seemed to be an unstoppable force for naught in return. Why had he done it? Daniel struggled to figure it out.
Never once did Daniel doubt that Alexander wouldn't be able to honour his promise and answer his questions. No, he simply did not trust others. A lifetime of beatings from his father had coloured Daniel's judgement on others – especially those he did not know. So, here they were in the guestroom. Alexander was reading while Daniel was watching him.
The silence stretched on and on, and Alexander just kept on reading. Daniel began to fidget, feeling that he should say something; it was a nervous habit of his. He began plucking absent-mindedly at the button on his sleeve as he continued to watch the baron, trying to figure the man out. How old could he be? His fifties, sixties – perhaps even older? His body language has a vigour and presence to it, something older men struggled to maintain. Or was it just that Daniel was so in awe of the baron that he was over-exaggerating his straight-back and quick strides, mistaking his authoritative air for his own respect for the man?
The fire crackled merrily in the fireplace. Rain lashed against the windows, and though he was not cold, Daniel shivered a little. Alexander did not look up from his book, but a slight frown did cross his features. For a while, he said nothing, and continued to read his book in silence; and Daniel kept looking across at him.
"Daniel, you've been staring at me for some time now. Is anything the matter?" Alexander's eyes looked up briefly from his book, startling Daniel from his thoughts. The voice of the baron still caught him by surprise, even though Daniel had been at Brennenburg for a few days now – it was a voice that commanded respect, and it had cut through the quiet of the room suddenly. The younger man's anxiety flared, and his fidgeting became more pronounced.
"Um..." He shuffled a little in his seat, obviously embarrassed. He kept tugging at the button on his sleeve, a nervous habit he'd had since childhood. Alexander had raised an eyebrow, obviously waiting for a response. "I'm sorry, S-Sir-"
"Daniel, I have asked you to call me Alexander in the comfort of my castle." It was not said angrily, but firmly, and even that was enough to make Daniel wince and recoil a little. He immediately scolded himself. He felt like a child, responding in this way to the slightest reprimand, but he was still exhausted from his long journey, and the unfamiliar surroundings as well as the knowledge that he was being stalked by an other-worldly presence left him constantly on edge. He kept fiddling with his clothes, his stomach dropping a little at the thought of potentially offending his host.
"Right, I'm sorry S – Alexander," Daniel corrected himself in time, his stomach dropping again at having almost failed again so quickly. He managed a weak, nervous smile. There was a small silence, as if Alexander was considering whether to reprimand him again for his near-fault.
"What is it, Daniel?" Alexander asked again, this time much more sternly. Daniel's mouth opened and closed again as he struggled to find a suitable answer.
"It's just, um..." Daniel fumbled his words, the nervous smile coming back again. He pulled on his sleeve, and the button came off. He managed a quiet "Oh" as it fell from his fingers and clattered to the floor. Alexander sighed.
"I shall get one of the servants to reattach it for you tomorrow." The baron said, to which Daniel shook his head as he bent down to retrieve the button.
"No, no, it's quite alright, Alexander. I brought my sewing kit with me, I can fix it myself." With that, Daniel got up and walked to his bedside cabinet, rummaging through it for his sewing kit. When he found it and turned back around, he found a credulous look on the baron's face. The younger man's anxiety returned a little, afraid that he had offended his host. "Is there something wrong?" He asked, stopping in his tracks.
Alexander considered the Englishman. The prospect of working and doing something other than ruminating had undeniably brightened the man's spirits – but he had thought... or, perhaps, he wasn't as knowledgeable about the habits and expectations of humans as he had initially thought?
The long pause suggested that Alexander had revised his initial question. When he spoke, he did so slowly, and it occurred to Daniel that he should probably move, rather than standing in the middle of his room like the awkward, anxious fool he was. He took his shirt off, avoiding the baron's gaze – a sign of his English primness, and took his seat, the chair warm against his bare back.
"... Have my servants displeased you in any way, Daniel?"
Daniel froze, looking at the baron with shock and worry. "No! No, of course not!" Of course, the Englishman was lying a little bit. He couldn't place his finger on what it was about the baron's servants that was odd, but he was unnerved by their silence, by their manner. However, he did not want the baron to know this and be upset, so he mustered an excuse with surprising quickness. "I am simply not used to being waited on by others."
Alexander's eyes bore into Daniel's own, and the brunet resisted the urge to squirm. That gaze was intense. It felt as if the older man could search his thoughts, see through his lies and detect the unease his guest felt. Still, a small smile touched the corners of the baron's lips. Daniel smiled back weakly, busying himself with threading his needle, trying to shake off his awkwardness and cursing himself for being so obvious. The baron continued to watch, considering how to vocalise his observations of other humans in a way which would not offend the younger man. Sewing was obviously something that Daniel was very used to – he threaded the needle in no time at all, and deftly made a knot in the thread he had cut from the spool using his teeth. It stirred Alexander into action.
"In Prussia, it is customary for women to have such skills," he said, deep voice again breaking the quiet of the room. Daniel gave another smile – a genuine one this time – but did not look up from his work. He had pushed the threaded needle through the cloth with a finger dressed in a thimble, and tested the strength of his knot – something which the baron knew to be unnecessary.
"It is much the same in England," he admitted, eyes focused on his work. He moved a little so he could see better in the light, clearly engrossed with his task. "But when you have an ailing mother, an ill sister and not much money, you learn to do such things for yourself." He hadn't meant to sound sad as he'd said it, but some sorrow had crept in to Daniel's confession. Alexander nodded slowly, though it went unnoticed by the Englishman, whose attention was completely on his work.
Now it was Alexander's turn to consider Daniel. He had surmised in the first five minutes of chatting to the boy three days ago when he first arrived at the castle that he was dealing with somebody with a hugely anxious disposition. Whether he was messing with the buttons on his waistcoat or shirt, or tugging on his earlobe, Daniel was always expressing his inner anxiety, even if not verbally. The fact that he had been messing with his buttons was nothing new – and indeed, Alexander had been expecting at least one button to have fallen off the Englishman's shirt before the end of the week. He did not blame the younger man, of course, for his nervousness – he had only recently realised the extent of what was following him, of what he had inadvertently done to others. He sensed that these worries would only intensify as time went on, hoping that this wouldn't impede his progress too much. Still, from the frantic scrawl he had received from the Englishman a few weeks prior, what else could the baron have expected?
The minutes stretched on in silence. Daniel was making quick work of reattaching the button, frowning slightly in concentration. It was a look the older man found quite endearing. The baron felt something stir inside his chest as he watched, his eyes unable to look elsewhere than at the handsome Englishman sat opposite him.
'Stop it,' he chastised himself, as if he were a teenage boy and not a baron who had been alive for centuries, 'you have one little bit of company, and you're just about ready to pounce on the poor boy. You need to use him for his orb, not sleep with him.' Nevertheless, Alexander couldn't help but feel strangely attached to the brunet already. He found himself wanting to make good on his promise and protect the young man, though he knew this was not possible. Daniel's nervous ticks and his cautious, oh-so-frightened manner of addressing the elder were rather charming. His questions and eagerness to learn and discuss provided excellent company for the otherwise reclusive baron, and it had enlightened him to exactly how much he had missed the company of others. 'He's not exactly unpleasant to look at, either,' the baron thought idly to himself, forgetting to heed his own advice to concentrate on ensuring the child was completely under his spell. Those wide, enquiring and eager-to-please eyes had struck a chord with Alexander when he'd first greeted the man outside the vast castle doors, though they had been slightly squinted from exhaustion, and his face grimy from travelling.
The baron found himself standing and moving over to the boy – for that's all he was to him, after all – to inspect his handiwork. Daniel had finished his job and was admiring it in the light, jumping a little as he realised Alexander was doing the same. "Alexander...?"
Daniel was still shirtless, and he felt very exposed in front of the baron. He cursed himself mentally for not having covered himself with another shirt while in the presence of his new protector, hoping he had not offended his elder. Alexander took the shirt from him, and held it up to the light himself. He considered the stitch work on the sleeve, and then slowly handed the shirt back to Daniel.
"A very good job, Daniel," he said. Daniel released the breath he was unaware he'd been holding, breaking out in a wide smile. As he was about to accept the compliment, he realised just how close the baron was standing. In fact, the older man head leaned down a little so that they were even closer. Alexander's eyes were focused on Daniel's pretty pink lips, and for the first time in hundreds of years, the baron was tempted. Daniel stared wide-eyed up at his superior, his mouth going dry. For a moment, the fire burning away and rain pouring down outside did not exist, and his world narrowed to him and this man, this authoritative figure who had promised to look after and help him.
Then, something changed in the baron's eyes. Almost as if he remembered something he'd forgotten, Alexander straightened his back and cleared his throat, his eyes looking instead at Daniel's own rather than those tempting lips.
"A very good job, Daniel," Alexander repeated slowly, knowing he should walk away but being unable to. There was something about this boy that had captured his attention, and he wanted to know what it was.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a wide smile broke out on Daniel's face, smashing the tension of the moment.
"Thank you, Alexander," the Englishman said happily, though he was still unsure of what had just transpired. Still, he kept the smile on his face wide and pleasant, the compliment fresh in his mind. He set about putting his sewing kit away. Out of sheer nervousness, he pricked himself with his sewing needle. He cursed under his breath, frowning as a droplet of blood surfaced to the skin from where he'd been pricked.
Before he could do so much as ask for a handkerchief, Alexander had taken the boy's hand and – much to the Englishman's surprise – put the wounded finger into his mouth. A wet, warm tongue came to lap at the blood, and Daniel winced, wanting more than anything to retract his finger, but being unable to. He watched helplessly as the baron tended to his finger, those amber eyes closed in something which Daniel thought to be satisfaction. A throb of need responded to the stimulation, to the thought that perhaps the baron was enjoying this, and Daniel fought with himself to suppress the gasp that threatened to reveal just how much he was enjoying the baron's attentions. He just sat and stared, teeth biting on his lip to keep himself in check.
And then, the moment broke. Again, it seemed as if the baron remembered something very suddenly, and he started. He jerked his head back from the Englishman's finger, staring down at the slightly flushed face of the young man in his care. He slowly handed Daniel's finger back to him in the same way one would return a book to a librarian.
"There. It should be alright now." With a curt nod, Alexander turned on his heel and went back to his chair, leaving Daniel staring back after him, flustered, wondering just what had transpired between them. He looked idly at his finger – the bleeding had stopped. He frowned, eyes returning to Alexander – he wasn't surprised to see he too was being stared at, though he did have to fight back the urge to yet again fiddle with the buttons on the shirt which now lay across his lap, forgotten. It seemed very much that they were both unable to vocalise the thoughts and feelings that they probably needed to, but couldn't. Along with the anxiety that had settled in Daniel's stomach was a kind of yearning – but what for, he couldn't quite admit to himself.
Alexander didn't stay long after that. They enjoyed a tense silence for perhaps three more minutes, in which time Daniel had redressed, and Alexander had fixed him with another hard, piercing gaze. Then, the baron rubbed his eyes, and stood. Daniel did the same, still unsure as to how he should behave around the aristocrat. Alexander irritably signalled for him to sit.
"I must be going now, Daniel. Do have a good night's rest, and remember to call for a servant if you're unwell or need anything during the night." With that, the baron abruptly left, Daniel hurrying his best wishes after the man as he shut the door. When he was alone, Daniel sighed and turned around, surveying the room as if somehow it too had been affected by what had just happened. The only sign to suggest that Alexander had been there was his book on a small table beside the baron's chair.
Eventually, Daniel retired to his bed, where his dreams were haunted by those lips once more – only this time, they had wrapped themselves around much, much more than just Daniel's finger.