Hallo! ^_^ So, this is my first ever fanfiction. I worked really hard on it, so please tell me what you think in the review section! Every comment matters!
Alexander followed the looming figure of the Trancy Butler warily. There was no conversation; the only noise besides the ghostly summer breeze came from their footsteps as they ascended the marble staircase leading to his new home. Even at Alexander's own height of 6'4, Claude Faustus seemed intimidating. His imposing stature and the haughty manner in which he conducted himself always made the young man nervous, causing him to direct his gaze towards the floor and intentionally shake his scruffy scarlet hair over his eyes- a submissive gesture he had acquired from years of laboring in the coal mines. He was one of the lucky ones; the difficult work had made him stronger instead of driving his health into the ground. So, when a blacksmith had approached his boss looking for the "cream of the crop," as it were, the hearty yet nimble Alexander was his first suggestion. The overseer has received a tidy sum for the recommendation, and Alexander began a new career as a Blacksmith's assistant. The boy was given a 3-day notice that he was to move in above Mr. Porter's shop and become a permanent apprentice in exchange for room, board, and 10 shillings a week to send back to his family. After a year, the shop recieved notice that his parents had died. Alexander continued his work.
Five years of working for Mr. Porter had left Alexander with a few advantages. He had always possessed a natural affinity for blades. At the age of seven, Alexander's father had presented him with a switchblade. (It was prudent, he had said, for a young man to know how to protect himself. They had sent him off to the mines a month later.) This affinity was honed by his days of apprenticing, and the now-seventeen-year-old found himself quite adept with all sorts of metal weapons. His skills ranged from throwing hatchets to sword-fighting to daggers and hidden blades, though his weapon of choice remained his tried-and-true switchblade. With a little brute force, there was very little he and his heirloom of sorts couldn't accomplish.
Unfortunately, his prowess faced a test when a band of thieves had attempted to rob the Blacksmith. The stubborn old man had refused to give them what they had asked for, and had been rewarded with a bullet to the brain. Afraid for his life, the burgeoning apprentice had hastily handed over all funds in the shop. Apparently, the gang found the amount insufficient, as one of the rogues had directed the muzzle of his firearm at Alexander's groin, threatening to strip him of his manhood if he didn't "cough up whatever he was hiding." Well, the only thing the redhead had been concealing was his switchblade and, obedient as ever, he swiftly revealed the knife and forced it into the man's forearm. The gun was knocked aside as Alexander wrenched his blade back, kicking the thief to the ground before advancing on the other three men. The first had still been pulling his weapon out of his pocket when his throat was slit open. The second man had come at the boy with a dagger just as Alexander pulled a blazing orange poker from the fire, driving it into his attacker's right eye socket. The last member of the gang had jumped for the door, but was quickly halted by the hatchet that had once resided near the forge, but was now lodged into the back of the villain's skull. News of his "heroics" spread throughout the village, and no more than a week had passed before a morose butler cloathed all in black came to offer Alexander a position he couldn't refuse.
And now here he was, nervously gripping at the strap of the worn knapsack slung over his shoulder as he struggled to trail the dark man while still keeping his eyes downcast. The bag held what little possessions he had gathered from the Blacksmith's shop, the last time he'd visited. Mr. Faustus- something in the man's eyes made Alexander suspect that referring to him as "Claude" would be a severe mistake- had assured the boy that suitable attire would be provided for him at the manor, so most of his old, tattered clothes had been left abandoned in the cramped room above the shop. As the butler held open one of the ornate wooden doors to the Trancy Manor and gestured for him to advance inside, all Alexander carried into his new home was a now ill-fitting sweater knitted for him by his mother years ago, a few novels he had managed to purchase with the petty salary he was left with, and a pair of treasured work gloves given to him by his father when he had been selected as the Blacksmith's assistant.
He stepped into the entryway, drawing a sharp breath as his emerald eyes swept over the extravagant room in wonder. The door shut behind Alexander with a heavy thud, bringing his attention back to his recruiter. Faustus turned around slowly, pivoting on his heel to stare expectantly down the hall. Alexander followed his gaze and cautiously stepped backwards to position himself to the left of and slightly behind the butler, observing curiously as the dark man's head tilted as though listening for something. The boy held his breath, and was pondering whether raising a question would be prudent when a loud bang sounded from the end of the corridor. Alexander's focus snapped from the butler to the figure currently sprinting in their direction, eyes widening as he backed further behind the servant guardedly.
"Cla-a-a-aude!" The bottoms of expensive shoes clicked loudly as they hit an equally exorbitant hardwood floor, propelling the giggling blonde towards them. Alexander peeked out from behind Mr. Faustus, staring at the young master with unmasked awe. Alois Trancy's shoulder-length platinum hair bounced as he ran, cheeks tinted a light pink and cerulean eyes sparkling as bubbly laughter fell unrestrictedly from his parted, rose-colored lips. The heels on his lush, knee-high boots added another couple inches to the youth's height, calling attention to his long, slender legs that were further accented by navy, thigh-length stockings. Black shorts tailored to reach a few inches above said stockings teasingly left exposed a pale strip of skin mere inches away from where the boy's leg met his hip. His unbuttoned vest fluttered open as the Trancy Heir launched himself at his servant, gleefully wrapping his arms around the indifferent man's waist.
"Oh, Claude, I'm so glad you're back!" Alois' overjoyed exclamation was somewhat muffled as he nuzzled Mr. Faustus' chest affectionately. "The others are so terribly boring. Especially Hannah; one little scratch and she starts crying." The blonde pulled his head away slightly, pouting up at the butler and sniffling dramatically. The man stared back, raising an eyebrow as one of his arms indulgently curled around the boy in a comforting gesture.
"What has Hannah done this time, Your Highness?" Alois grinned at the title, closing his eyes and rubbing his cheek against the lavish fabric of Faustus' uniform fondly.
"Well, you know that I have to be strict with them. What kind of master of the household would I be if I didn't properly discipline my servants?" Here he paused for a moment, running a finger under the lapel of his butler's jacket and sighing in an exaggerated fashion. "Hannah neglected to address me by my proper title, so I gave her a little... reminder." Alois giggled to himself, entertaining a smug air like a child with a secret, "I'm sure she'll never forget again."
"I... see." Mr. Faustus' eyes narrowed and he brought his unoccupied hand up to his face, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "I'm sure it was well-deserved, Your Highness. Though I do hope she didn't leave a bloody mess for me to clean this time."
"Oh, don't worry; I've already seen to that..." Alois answered flippantly, trailing off as his eyes slid open. Alexander's wide eyes met the Master's own for only a moment before hastily directing his gaze downward, clasping his hands in front of him in both a sign of respect and an effort to stop them from shaking. The Trancy Heir initially regarded Alexander with mild annoyance, just barely loosening his grip on the dark butler. "Claude, who is that?"
The man replied slowly, in a tone exuding condescension, "Surely you remember, Your Highness? This is Alexander Drague, our new gardener."
"...oh, yes... Of course..." If Alois took any notice of the patronizing tone, he made no remark; instead, he completely relaxed his hold on the servant and peered up at the new man with interest. Alexander's eyes remained trained on the polished toes of his new employer's shoes as a faint blush surfaced, hidden behind his scarlet tresses.
"Look at me," Alois ordered, tone impatient as he stepped closer to the redhead. Alexander complied immediately, timid emerald eyes meeting sky-blue ones that widened in a slightly unhinged demeanor as the younger one let out a series of somewhat deranged giggles. "Oh, Claude! He's pretty!". Alexander flushed, cheeks reddening further; they were well on their way to matching his hair. His eyes darted from the floor to Alois uncertainly as he nervously shifted from foot to foot. Well, he could honestly say that no one had ever described him as pretty before. Having spent the majority of his time either in the dark confines of the coal mines or working at crafting various things in Mr. Porter's shop, Alexander barely had time to consider appearances. The Blacksmith hadn't even owned a mirror ("When a man gets to a certain age, mirrors do little but depress him."). The apprentice rarely left the shop, the exception being to visit the small corner bookstore only a few minutes' walk from his front door. There he had met Genevra, a girl two years his junior with dark hair and equally dark eyes- she had also commented on his appearance. Sombre and contemplative, the young woman had said that Alexander possessed "a certain fox-like elegance" regardless of his less-than-noble origins. The two were amicable, and shared a particular fondness for the written word. Now Alexander remembered her, pictured her inky hair that was left loose to gather around her shoulders, the way one corner of her mouth quirked when she was amused (she rarely laughed), and he was struck with a remarkable feeling of yearning- of homesickness. The young heir's remark had brought into sharp contrast his new and former lives. Everything is going to be so different. Suddenly austere and oblivious to Alexander's reminiscing, Alois moved nearer and extended a determined hand upwards, brushing the hair from his new servant's face as his eyes narrowed appraisingly. He carefully examined every feature, gripping Alexander's chin between a slender thumb and forefinger and tilting his head downward and to each side speculatively. Abruptly, the blonde's face broke out in a grin. His eyes shone excitedly as leant forward, speaking in a near-whisper, "We are going to have so much fun, Al-ex-an-der." The name dripped from his tongue slowly, each syllable drawn out exaggeratedly as the hand on the taller man's chin drifted to caress his cheek tenderly. Alexander swallowed harshly. A quiet cough sounded from Mr. Faustus, who was struggling to disguise a mean-spirited smirk as Alois draped himself over Alexander.
"Your Highness, shall we show Mr. Drague to his quarters?" The inquiry was laced with a subtle mirth, his brown eyes fixed amusedly on the young master's wandering hands.
"A splendid idea, Claude! Come now, I'll show you to your new room." That bubbly laughter was back and Alois wrapped his arms around one of Alexander's, tugging him down the mansion's corridors excitedly. The older boy tripped and stumbled along, gazing at the various paintings and decorations adorning the manor's halls while halfway listening to Alois' spirited ramblings. "...right next to mine, so I can get you whenever I need you. Isn't it wonderful? We'll have to get your measurements for your new uniform, I'm sure we can fit that in before dinner..."
Yes, things were going to be very different.