To whom it may concern:
Although this fic was inspired by my previous fic, Traitor, it is not a sequel. The events in this fic take place after the movie, but independent to Traitor. This is also my first fic where I am including OCs, whereas previously I have used people from other books as additional characters. I hope you like them!
No other story have I written more for myself, so I hope you like the way my mind works. Good luck, and all the beef!
Disclaimer: Alas, the League do not belong to me, and my OC's don't come in for ages yet!
Dedication: For TGH, himself. For being so generous as to hold up the start of a play to give me his autograph.
Setting the scene: Quatermain has recently passed away, but the League have not yet attended his funeral. The story begins on the Nautilus. Mina's POV.
Chapter 1 – The End of the Great White Hunter
When one so close to you passes away, your whole life begins to change. Jonathan's long and painful death was the hardest I have ever had to face. Watching him grow weaker and more fragile by the day tore my whole soul in two. I could never return to the woman I was before that terrible event. Dorian's, though thoroughly justified, was hardly an easier death to handle. Whereas I had so wanted to wreak my revenge on him for what he had done to me; to my friends, I would not have wished it upon him. It was like watching the whole of Jonathan's overdrawn passing in the space of a few seconds. Even after the horror's I have seen, this is not one I would ever want to relive.
Life without Quatermain seems to have lost its entire colour. Everybody tries to continue as we did before, yet everything feels as though it were in black and white. Mr Sawyer seems to have taken the situation the worst. I have not seen him at the dinner table for several weeks, and when I have seen him he has refrained from speaking to anyone. He looks so terribly thin and forlorn. Hopefully the funeral this afternoon will relieve some of the pain he must be feeling.
I sat staring at myself in the mirror. The bags under my eyes had become deeper and the wrinkles on my forehead more prominent. No matter how much makeup I was to put on, there would be no way of covering either flaw. I just didn't feel up to seeing Quatermain's burial.
I was reaching for my hat, when I thought I noticed something behind me in the mirror. One of my test tubes on the other side of the room had been rocking slightly. I turned to face it properly, but if it ever was rocking it had stopped. Closing my eyes and shaking my head slightly, I turned back to face the mirror and placed the hat on my head.
There was a smash of glass as the test tube fell to the floor. I jumped and turned around quickly, the hat carelessly falling from my head. I had been overly jumpy for the last few weeks I will admit, but I had defiantly not imagined this test tube.
I cleared up the broken glass on the floor and placed it back on the shelf. I suppose there was the chance that I had misplaced the apparatus there when I had packed away, but that didn't explain why it had fallen down then.
"Skinner," I said out loud, turning about the room. "If this is meant to be some kind of joke, you know that it would be best for you to reveal yourself right now." I paused, expecting a reply. But no reply came. Just the humming of the Nautilus' engine. I breathed out slowly.
Picking my hat up from the floor, I replaced it on my head once more and frustrated stabbed it with a hat pin.
I strode to the door and opened it, aimlessly casting a glance over my shoulder back into the room.
"Oh, for goodness sake, Mina!" I hissed to myself and promptly slammed the door behind me.
We approached his grave, the heat of the African sun beating down on our heads. The whole situation felt unreal. He was older than all of us, but he was never going to be the first to leave. I head Skinner shuffle behind me.
"You remember he swore Africa would never let him die?" He asked us. I saw his hat tilt down to look at him. "I wish the old boy had been right."
"What's next?" Sawyer spoke up. Probably the first thing I'd heard him say for several weeks.
"I have long hidden away from the world; now I wish to see it anew as the century turns." Nemo looked at us all. "You're all welcome to join me." He focused on me particularly.
"We've all been hiding in one form or another." I stated. I had been hiding for such a long time since Jonathan had left me. Yet, I still didn't feel as though I wanted to emerge quite yet. I didn't think the League could survive without Quatermain's guiding hand.
Nemo, Skinner and Jekyll had all paid their respects. I paced slowly to the foot of his grave and looked at the freshly dug soil. This is what he would have wanted, I thought. Killed in action; buried next to his son. It's what he would have wanted. I could feel my throat beginning to tighten.
"Goodbye," I whispered.
We walked away from the grave. Tom had lingered behind for a moment, but I kept my eyes focused on the three men in front of me. The last thing I needed to do was to cry in front of them. That would show a weakness, and that is the last thing I would want to do right now. I was too worried about trying to explain to the others why I didn't want to continue with them. I just wanted to return home and think about this whole episode.
Tom had caught up with me. I looked at him briefly.
"Everything will be alright, you know," I told him, quietly. His face stayed the colour of thunder. He quickly paced away from me without replying. I stopped in my tracks and bit my lip. I didn't want to loose friends now.
Suddenly, a huge force hit into my back, causing me to stubble slightly. I turned quickly to see what had caused the disturbance, poised and ready to attack. I caught my breath. The was nobody behind me.
"Skinner?" I questioned, already knowing that he was far in front of me. My heart began to beat faster. I quickly crouched to the ground and grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it out in front of me. The dirt fell upon the invisible person in front of me, causing them to raise their arms and begin to cough.
Every fibre of my body wanted me to call to the rest of the League in front of me, but there was something deep in my stomach that stopped me. I was breathing so deeply, I felt as though my lungs had shrunken down.
"Who are you?" I questioned, quietly. My eyes darted over the faint markings of soil that remained on the figure. He raised his hand to his hair, smearing dirt over his forehead.
"Reed," He replied, coughing slightly. "Sanderson Reed. Please don't hurt me. I need your help."
NB: Well, that's the first bit up. It may be a while for the next one, cause I don't have much time now I'm at Uni. If anybody cares, I'm also going to try and pick up Emerald again. I feel like I've neglected the League for too long! Comments are welcomed.