"The Party That Thomas Held."
By: A Spoony Bard.
Rating: R. (eventually)
Disclaimer: Think about it this way: There is no graphic sex in "Gravitation" (not even in the OAV). There would be if I owned it. You finish the connection.
Greetings, all. This is an AU work which was inspired by a Media Studies piece I had to write. It's set in late-Victorian England; doesn't really need an exact date, but... I'd say around 1890-1900. Watch out for rampant out-of-character actions (i.e., Eiri not being as much of a bastard; Tohma being pretty mellow; Tatsuha trying to shag his brother… -_-;;), but hope you like!
Characters:
Seguchi Tohma: Mr. Thomas Songfield; 32; Manager of the Bank of England, London.
Seguchi Mika: Mrs. Marie Songfield; 30; Wife of Mr. Thomas Songfield.
Yuki Eiri: Mr. Edward York; 22; Famous newspaper columnist for "The Times".
Uesugi Tatsuha: William Weir; 16; Public schoolboy at the "King's Public School for Boys".
Sakuma Ryuichi: Mr. Robert Sanders; 32; Headmaster of the "King's Public School for Boys".
K: Claude Winchester; 30; Ex-army corporal and Deputy Headmaster at the "King's Public School for Boys".
Fujisaki Suguru: Frederick Selsters; 16; Public schoolboy at the "King's Public School for Boys".
Shindo Shuichi: Simon Shorte; 19; Domestic servant at "The Wind Archer".
Nakano Hiroshi: Henry Narborough; 19; Stable-hand at "The Wind Archer".
Sakano: (Mr.) Salisbury; 30; Butler at "The Wind Archer".
Usami Ayaka: Anna Summers; 17; Domestic servant at "The Wind Archer".
Ukai Noriko: Ms. Noémie Uberwells; 28; Cook at "The Wind Archer".
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter One: Make Way For the Lord and His Lady.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Another bleak and dreary day in England. The cool, relentless winds busied the fresh leaves on the huge trees and the ever-present billows of thick clouds in shades of grey that matched the buildings of London, hung over the scenic landscape of the countryside. Despite the season, it was, indeed, a bleak and dreary day; one that certainly wasn't befitting of such a momentous occasion. Thomas Songfield, who had been working since he was eighteen years old, was finally taking a holiday.
The youthful-looking man glanced from the small window of the carriage, to his wife sitting opposite him. After three hours of solid travelling, she was still working on her pretty piece of embroidery.
"Aren't you bored of that yet, Marie?" He asked, as he watched the dull, silver needle move up and down; in and out of the fine, white cheesecloth; tiny lines of expensive silks the only proof it had ever been there.
"No." Came the single word reply, and Thomas continued to watch the steady motions of his dearest. For a few minutes more, the only sound that could be heard in the carriage was the steady canter of the shire horses.
"Gosh. It seems so trite. How do you women do it?"
"We don't have much of a choice." Marie stated nonchalantly, as she continued to sew. Her husband sighed lightly and returned to gazing out of the window beside him. Conversations with Thomas alone were always difficult to maintain. After all, she hadn't had much practice since the poor woman hardly ever saw him. He worked all day and then was too tired to be bothered in the evening. All he wanted to do was sit down and read until he decided to go to bed. The same pattern, day-in, day-out, bored Marie and brought about deep concern for her husband's welfare. That was the main reason why she suggested that they take a holiday. Run away for awhile to the country manor left to Thomas in his father's will, so they could both relax and enjoy themselves in the beautiful surroundings with a few close friends. The sophisticated lady neatly and carefully folded her ornate needlework over its tambour and placed it in her jewelled handbag.
"Is the luggage secure, Thomas?" She asked, attempting once more to strike up a little bit of chatter between them, if only to stave off the un-ladylike yawns or break the repetitive clip-clop of the hooves.
"If it isn't, the driver will have to sell his family in order to pay for any lost contents. I shan't be leaving a token, either. We could have been there about an hour ago if we had taken the train… The quicker we start this, the quicker it ends." Marie couldn't help but smile. Her husband was always so businesslike. Time was money, and money was of the essence. Except it never was for her; her family was rich and she married rich and Thomas, like her father, always managed money so well. She supposed it came with being a bank manager, rather than being tight.
'Now, if only he could manage his time better...'
The pair jumped as an especially loud peal of summer-thunder rumbled through the dampened air. Feeling embarrassed about being taken by surprise, the bank manager rubbed his hands together in an attempt to warm them. It was cooler in the carriage and he was only wearing an ordinary jacket. His wife was dressed up in an elaborate fur coat, however and was looking fairly cosy. The temptation to snuggle under the sleek pelts with her was rising by the minute.
"It looks like it's going to rain again." Marie commented, as she peeked out through the square of glass. The old oaks stood out like ancient sore-thumbs; heads of cheery green against the disgruntled grey sky. The gentle, rolling landscape cruised by the society-lady's view and pleased her. Despite the weather, Somerset was even prettier than last time and she was definitely going enjoy herself out in the open air.
"I hope not. That'll really spoil this bloody so-called 'holiday'..."
"Language!"
The rest of the journey to "The Wind-Archer" was spent in companionable silence. The brunette woman decided that more embroidery would be a sensible way to pass the time and therefore, Thomas thought that a nap was in order. Marie paused in her needlework to sit and gaze at her slumbering husband, a marital fondness present in her face.
'He's so sweet when he's sleeping. Poor Thomas… You've worked so hard for this break and really deserve to enjoy it. Why won't you let yourself go for once?' Marie questioned internally. She noticed how he was bunching his country tweed about him, struggling to retain warmth. Looking down at the luxuriously soft and snug coat about herself, she reckoned that she ought to share.
'Don't want to have to come through for the "In sickness and in health" part again… Thomas is the most awful patient…' Marie shrugged off the mink-pelt and spread the expensive coat over the shivering man lying against the padded frame of the carriage door. She felt a warmth in her chest as the gift was gratefully accepted; Thomas snuggling down under the coat that smelt so heavily of his spouse. Talcum powder, scent and cigarette smoke was a very odd combination of aromas, but it was reassuring and sent the man into a slightly more pleasant sleep. Content with her good deed for the day-and resisting the urge to tuck him in, Marie returned to her needlework.
"Thomas! Thomas, darling, wake up! We've arrived!" A finely decorated hand prodded the soft skin of the dozing man's face; skin pallid from stress and overworking.
"What?" Was the drowsy reply. He was warm and comfortable under the wonderfully soft and comfortingly scented makeshift quilt. Thomas always had a rather peculiar, effeminate smell about him, but he wasn't bothered. He was used to going to work reeking of, what he had affectionately dubbed "Eau de Marie". Dull aquamarine eyes cracked open as if they feared what they would see.
"I said we're here! It's time to get up! I think the domestic team has come to meet us, as well!" The woman sounded excited. The hardworking male didn't see what was so great about this break. After all, it had torn him away from his job- his control on reality and what kept the meddlesome lady in her finery. He sighed as he rubbed the remnants of a warm, but fairly uncomfortable sleep from his eyes.
'Blasted country roads...'
"I'm tired. Tell the driver and footman to leave everything in the hallway, and let the domestics take care of it. I shall go straight to bed. I don't require anything to eat." Thomas muttered as the coach door was opened for him. He handed the covering back to his lady before opting to exit the coach. Highest-quality brown leather shoes met moss-covered gravel with a crunching sound. He stretched discretely and looked up at the majestic, rustic dwelling that towered imposingly above him; so old and yet it stood so proudly, drawing the eyes upwards in awe.
'Rather like Father...' The thirty-two year old mused. Thomas turned to see his elegant wife climbing out of the stagecoach with all of the dignity of a royal. He regarded the expression on her face, as she took in the sight of her new, temporary home.
'Like a small girl at Yuletide... It never fails to impress her. She's so much like Edward was in some ways…' At the thought of Marie's sibling, an unnoticeably small streak of pink graced his petite nose and he smiled at the warm and cosy feeling in his stomach. A nippy chill in the wind bit about his body, so Thomas decided that then was as good a time as any to move into the building. He brought his eyes back to the entrance of the impressive home and saw a small gathering of nervously-shuffling people. Squinting at them for a brief period of time, Thomas recalled something Marie had said about the servants coming to meet them. His sharp eyes surveyed each one of them.
'Hmm... What a small group... Oh well, there won't be many of us.'
"Well, don't just stand there, Thomas! Go inside before you catch your death of cold!" The bank manager looked up and saw Marie standing in front of him.
'And since when was she in front of me? She left the car after me...' Thomas turned again to see the driver and footman unloading the multitude of suitcases. Of course, most of them contained the lady's clothing, as she insisted upon bringing several trunks if they were entertaining, which they were. Thomas had sent letters to each of his friends, inviting them to make his 'break' a little more bearable.
"Anna Summers... I see... You're new, aren't you? I thought so…" It seemed Marie was already getting re-acquainted with her servants. Thomas shrugged. After all, she was the lady of the house... The urbane and kind master shivered again, as another nippy breeze trailed its chilly fingers down his back.
"Thomas! Come over here!" Piecing a small smile to his thin, subtle lips, he strode through the huge, open doors, thinking:
'Never mind about the cold, I'd best go inside before I catch my death of wife...'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And so be the cessation of the first chapter. Boring introduction, but it has to be done… Sorry. Next part might be more interesting and a little longer…