Chapter 2: Viridian
Arthur was feeling a little awkward. Which was an emotion he'd rather erase from his dictionary, especially seeing as this was his bedroom.
Why was he feeling awkward you ask?
Well, a couple of minutes ago, Kiku and Matthew left his house. And Gilbert had stayed. Because he wanted to make sure his new pet was going to be all right.
At the moment, the albino was sitting on the bed, his bed, cooing at the yellow chick and simply watching over it while the bird slept.
And Arthur had absolutely no idea what to say to him.
Their usual form of conversation didn't seem to fit the situation. Arthur couldn't think of any good insults, the Prussian was obviously not in the mood for a verbal fight, and he didn't know what else he could say. Plus there was the fact that Gilbert was now his guest, and Arthur was a gentleman. He knew he should play the host and try to make him comfortable, but he somehow figured the other would just laugh at his good manners.
So, here he was, leaning awkwardly against the wall.
"…Want anything to drink?" he tried.
"Nein, Danke," was the albino's reply.
Another minute of silence in which Arthur watched the other covet his new best friend. Then Gilbert turned to him with a smirk.
"Or you know what? If you could bring me a beer, that'd be awesome."
Arthur scowled at him.
"I'm not giving you alcohol, dog."
The werewolf grinned widely.
"There's the grump we all know and love! Come on Artie, relax. You don't have to be all formal with me."
Arthur sputtered something incomprehensible, ears growing a dark shade of red. Gilbert snickered before turning to the chick again.
"I mean it, relax. We have known each other for how many years now? I'll admit, we don't talk that often. But that shouldn't be a problem anymore by now."
Arthur turned to scowling harshly again.
"Are you suggesting I'm scared of being alone with you or something? I'll have you know I'm at the top of my class, so I have absolutely no need to be nervous about anything, thank you very much."
Gilbert rolled his eyes.
"Good. Because it would be totally un-awesome if you were scared of me."
As if to prove the werewolf wrong, Arthur pushed himself off the wall and marched over to the other, after which he plopped down on the mattress next to him.
"Why do I have such weird friends?" he asked himself with an exasperated sigh.
"Hey, I'm not weird Fräulein! You're just a snob!"
"What?!" Arthur growled.
He was about to curse the albino when he saw the mocking smirk on his face.
"Just teasing Artie!"
The mage grumbled and flopped back onto his bed.
"Seriously Gilbert. I'm too tired for games."
Gilbert followed his lead, now looking up at the ceiling. It was like looking up at the sky; painted a dark blue with constellations scattered across the surface.
"Thank you."
Green eyes shot to him, outrageous eyebrows raised in question.
"For what you did for Gilbird," the albino explained himself.
Arthur let out a short hum of understanding before looking back up.
"That's fine lad."
They remained silent for a little while, Gilbert for once not boasting about his awesomeness and Arthur not trying to make him realize he was anything but that.
It gave the mage the time to let his thoughts wander to forbidden zones again, thinking of lapis lazuli, easy-going chansons and the odour of fresh roses and baguettes…
"So you play the guitar?"
"Huh?"
Gilbert was sitting next to his instrument, studying the object as if it was something divine. Arthur slowly sat up again, wondering when he'd dozed off.
"Uh, yes. I do."
The werewolf grinned excitedly, tail wagging.
"Care to show me?"
Arthur didn't know how to react to that. It wasn't like he was afraid of making a fool out of himself. The mage knew he was a good musician – and that was a huge understatement. It was just that Gilbert had never shown such interest in him before, only coming to him when he wanted help with his homework.
"I guess so, if you want me to…"
Gilbert nodded, carefully picking up the guitar and holding it out to the blond. Arthur placed it in his lap and looked around him, searching for inspiration. He closed his eyes and smiled as he let his fingers caress the cords, instinctively knowing what to do. Gilbert sat on the ground, red eyes shining with childish joy. Arthur smirked before starting on the song he'd been practising the night before.
The albino remained perfectly silent during his performance, listening with genuine interest. The Brit kept his eyes closed; he wanted to remain focussed and he didn't plan on looking at his audience, afraid of being overcome by bashfulness. He even sang along with the lyrics, happy his voice didn't let him down today.
When the song was finished, Gilbert let out a howling bark and clapped his paws together.
"I want to hold your hand from the Beatles! I didn't know you were into the classics Artie!"
The mage looked up with a pleasantly surprised smile.
"You know the Beatles? Strange, I've always taken you for more of a Heavy Metal fan. Thought you only listened to bands such as Rammstein and the likes."
Gilbert shook his head and rolled his ruby-red eyes.
"Nah, I'm more of an all-rounded guy. Like a bit here, love a bit there. But the Beatles rule."
Arthur gently set down his guitar, feeling completely at ease after his little nap and the song.
"Do you perhaps play an instrument?"
The werewolf nodded.
"Of course! I have a drum set, I play the flute, and I own a triangle."
Arthur snorted at his list.
"I understand the drum set, but why a flute and triangle?"
"The triangle was just to annoy Roderich when he was playing too much piano. But it still sounds awesome when I use it. I'm so good I can make one single cling sound amazing!"
Arthur chuckled at that, but waited with the usual insults until the other was done explaining.
"And I just like the flute. I'm a lot more traditional than you think at some points, Fräulein. Not like that bloodsucking loser with his pop and electro. Nein, I have style!"
He meant the 'bloodsucking loser' part as a joke of course; Gilbert would never bash on his friends like that.
"Who taught you that?" the mage inquired.
If Arthur hadn't been there with him, he wouldn't have believed what Gilbert did next.
The werewolf suddenly went uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes growing to be the size of watermelons, his muscles tensing, ears falling flat and his tail dropping to the ground.
"Gilbert?" Arthur asked, immediately worried for the other's well-being (not that he'd ever admit it).
The wolf remained in that frozen state for a full minute before speaking up.
"…I don't really want to talk about it."
Arthur nodded, glad he was speaking again. It must've been someone who died or went away for the albino to have such a reaction.
They were interrupted by a sudden knock on the door.
"Oi fag, the Old Man says dinner is-"
The newcomer paused at seeing Gilbert sitting on the rug.
With his reddish-brown hair, eyes resembling grass and spring, and a faint scar on his left cheek, it could only be Patrick Kirkland. The man in his early twenties studied the werewolf sitting in his sibling's bedroom, blessed thin eyebrows frowning just a tad.
Then he smirked.
"I just meant that fag-thing as an insult, I didn't actually want you to become one you dope."
Arthur's face immediately flushed an angry red.
"What on earth are you implying you bloody wanker?!"
Patrick snorted, happy to see his brother's temper as vibrant as ever.
"Is that eating with us?" he asked, talking about the werewolf as if he weren't even there.
Arthur was about to make another comment when Gilbert jumped up and cut him off.
"Of course I am! Wouldn't want all of you to miss my awesome presence!"
Patrick's grin deflated, eyes turning to little angry slits.
"You're not getting anything if you keep talking like that, dog."
"Don't speak to him like that!" Arthur lectured his older brother, even though he used that word quite a lot himself. But only he was allowed to insult the werewolf in this house; his brothers were to keep their hands off of him.
Gilbert studied the following discussion with hanging jaw.
"Oh, sorry boyo. Guess I should call him your boyfriend. Or are you his little bird?"
Arthur seethed with anger, trying and failing to push his brother out of the room.
Gilbert curiously tilted his head, ears pointing upwards.
"My bird? I only call Matt Birdie…"
Arthur groaned and Patrick laughed.
"Ah, so the chap is a fag!"
"You're not helping Gilbert! And you, get out!" Arthur yelled.
Before it could escalate, the door was suddenly opened further to reveal a healthy young adult with striking red hair and eyes a slightly darker shade of emerald than the youngest'.
"What is going on here?" Allistor said calmly, stern gaze falling on his bickering siblings.
"Arthur's a whoopsie-"
"Am not!" the blond interrupted indignantly.
Well, technically he did dream of a French accent and a flat chest, but Gilbert had absolutely nothing to do with it all.
Allistor raised an eyebrow, but his expression remained the same. Which meant that he had a piercing gaze that could kill with a single look.
"Never mind that. We can discuss the lad's sexual orientation after dinner."
Patrick quickly pulled Arthur along with him, ignoring his protests and embarrassed stuttering. Allistor motioned for Gilbert to follow them.
'This is going to be interesting…' the Prussian thought as he quietly followed after the three loudly arguing brothers.
They entered a huge dining room, crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling and a cosy fire roaring in a natural stone-mantel fireplace. Four people were already seated at the table, a maid bringing in a bowl with asparagus soup.
Sitting next to each other were Dylan and Finn Kirkland, the first having light-brown, almost blond hair and moss green eyes, a slender figure and the exact same hairstyle as Arthur. Finn was an almost identical twin of Patrick's, the only difference being a slightly more dark brown shade of hair and eyebrows leaning towards their younger sibling one's. Yes, the Kirkland brothers certainly did resemble each other a lot.
The other two present were Mr. and Mrs. Kirkland.
Lord Henry Kirkland was a great mage with a title of nobility, hair just as blond and messy as his youngest but with the thinner eyebrows of the older brothers. He had decided upon moving to the States after learning he could take a course in Creative Writing here and become a full-time writer, something he'd always dreamt off. His family simply had to adapt to his wishes, but luckily the boys grew adjusted to their new home fast enough. He was currently working at the local university, earning quite a bit of money with his articles on Shakespeare and Oscar Wilde.
The nymph by the name of Lady Jane Kirkland was almost the complete opposite of her husband; a free-spirited woman with cardinal curls that always seemed to be moving and buzzing with life. She was the culprit of Arthur's bushy eyebrows, but just like with him, it only helped in giving more expression to her ever-lively features. She always walked barefooted, but moved with the greatest of grace and elegance, proper etiquette well-known in her glossary. Her short green dresses reminded of forests and a warm summer breeze in the month of May. The boys got their scowling from Henry, but they definitely got their energy from their mother.
Arthur sat down next to Finn with a heavy grunt, motioning for Gilbert to do the same. The werewolf did as he was told, although a bit more nervous when confronted with such respectable adults.
"Oh, what is this? My dearest Ari, I didn't know you were having a friend over!"
Arthur groaned and laid his head on the table.
"Please mum, I asked you not to call me that again when we're with company!"
Jane giggled delightfully before turning to their guest.
"I don't think we've met yet luv. Mind telling me your name?"
Her fluorescent spheres were the exact same shade of green as Arthur's, and Gilbert found himself straightening his figure and holding back his usual swankiness, for once actually trying to impress someone with good manners instead of an over-the-top amount of charisma.
"My name's Gilbert Mrs. Kirkland, Gilbert Beilschmidt. I'm in the same year as Arti- Arthur."
Jane smiled warmly.
"You can call him Artie if that's what you always do sweetie. My baby doesn't mind."
They heard a little grunt of protest, but ignored it completely.
Allistor and Patrick sat down next to their mother, the young adults already having forgotten the previous discussion with their younger sibling and now chatting about work. Speaking about jobs: Patrick owned a pub, Allistor was an engineer, Dylan had a potion-and bookstore, and Finn worked as a pilot for a travel agency (he was the one who flew exchange students over from Western Europe). Gilbert was actually in quite a luck to see the whole family together, seeing as the oldest four had already graduated from high school and were now a fully functioning part of the monster society.
Lord Henry was reading a newspaper, sparing only a brief glance of acknowledgment at the albino before going back to the headline of that night; 'Student attacks teacher with hunting rifle.'
Before the family (and guest) got to eating their soup, a final member entered the room.
This newcomer was Lady Anglia Kirkland. She was Arthur's grandmother and the obvious Mater Familia of the Kirkland clan(1). The boys instantly fell silent as soon as she walked forward with disciplined strides, carefully taking in her surroundings. This woman simply oozed aristocracy; her long golden locks falling delicately over her shoulders, hands folded in front of her stomach, viridian eyes wise and all-seeing. But the most salient feature about her appearance were two life-size wings like that of an angel's, dragging across the floor and only a bit ruffled with age. Her nickname was the Britannia Angel, after all.
She stopped at the head of the table, a butler immediately walking over to pull her chair back and help her take a seat. As soon as the woman was comfortable, the chattering re-ignited, as if having waited for her mute approval.
"We have a guest," Anglia commented, not looking in Gilbert's direction but knowing he was there nonetheless.
"A friend of Arthur's apparently," Henry replied, again keeping his eyes on the paper in his hands.
Anglia nodded, after which she looked at Gilbert expectantly.
After getting a nudge from Arthur's elbow the werewolf rose from his seat, even making a short bow for good measure.
"Gilbert Beilschmidt your ladyship. Arthur and I go to the same school," he spoke, hoping he was using the right terms.
Anglia nodded again, after which she turned to her soup. This seemed to be the cue they'd been waiting for; all of a sudden everyone had a spoon in their mouth.
Arthur pulled Gilbert down again and advised him to do the same.
"Are dinners at your place always so stiff?" he said in a low voice, feeling a little aggravated by Anglia's behaviour.
Arthur shrugged.
"It's not that bad," he whispered back. "You just have to get used to it, that's all."
Gilbert decided to just go with the flow and copy the other's actions to make sure he didn't make any grave mistakes.
After soup came the main course: roast lamb with mint sauce, oven-baked potatoes with rosemary and garlic, and some parsnips and carrots as a side-dish.
Gilbert's eyes almost rolled out of their sockets at seeing such a delicious meal. Because one: knowing Arthur's cooking skills, he tried not to get his hopes up that his family could in fact cook without blowing up the kitchen, and two: the werewolf came from a much poorer home, their pack having to fight for each little chicken leg or piece of minced meat, lovely blood-soaked steak being a luxury.
Gilbert thanked the gods for having him find Gilbird; it was because of the chick that he could now eat like a king.
"So, Gilbert luv, are you staying the night?" Jane asked after filling her plate. The woman had quite an appetite for someone with such a petite figure.
Gilbert shot a quick glance at his friend, waiting for the nod that told him he would indeed be staying here tonight.
"That's good! Ari doesn't have friends over that often," Jane cheered.
"Yes, why's that lad? Embarrassed of your own family?" Allistor said with a grunt. You really couldn't tell if he was just teasing, or actually suspicious.
"I just go to them more than the other way around," Arthur avoided the question.
It wasn't really embarrassment that made him keep his friends away; it was more like he didn't want to overwhelm them with his situation at home. Because even though Gilbert had called him a snob before, Arthur was anything but that, and he didn't want his friends to think otherwise.
Suddenly, Anglia's voice sounded across the table.
"So Mr. Beilschmidt, have you already decided what you want to become after you graduate?"
Gilbert was a little taken by surprise, him not instantly knowing how to react to the question. He quickly put his knife and fork down after having Arthur stomp on his foot, breaking him away from his state of bewilderment.
"I'm still not entirely sure. I might want to be something like a night guard or something like that, or maybe I'll take over our pack leader's job as gym teacher…" (The pack leader being coach Alfher, by the way.)
Anglia nodded. "Those are certainly respectable jobs."
But then Gilbert's eyes glazed over, lips spreading into a wide grin.
"But I would love to be a rock star."
The temperature seemed to drop a few degrees, despite the fire still burning intensely.
The albino didn't notice, him now being stuck in his fantasies of being a famous idol, finally making the world take notice of his awesomeness.
Six sets of eyes exchanged worried glances with each other, all knowing what was about to come next.
Arthur was stubbornly glaring a hole in his plate, cursing the werewolf for bringing up the subject.
The others all looked away when Lord Henry finally put down his newspaper, brows furrowed angrily.
"A rock star," he repeated, as if tasting the words on the tip of his tongue.
Anglia returned to her meal, already knowing exactly what her son was going to say. She pitied her youngest grandson; Henry really could be quite a handful.
"Did you not say you wanted to be a rock star as well, Arthur?"
Gilbert snapped away from his little dream world to stare open-mouthed at the green-eyed mage. So that guitar wasn't just a hobby of his; he actually wanted to make his job out of it?
The werewolf grinned widely and slapped the other on the back.
"That's awesome Artie! Good luck with that!"
Arthur remained silent, shoulders tensed in a nervous way, eyebrows knitting together even tighter than his father's.
"So you think becoming a rock star is 'awesome', Mr. Beilschmidt?"
The werewolf immediately stopped grinning like an idiot when that stern gaze fell on him. He felt like at that moment, he lost an innocent little part of himself, knowing it would never return.
"Do you still think it is awesome when you get evicted from you house because you can't pay the rent? When you have to live in an apartment filled with cockroaches and rats, and that is if you're lucky? Do you think it is awesome to be addicted to all sorts of drugs, always thirsty for liquor you can't afford, so that you'll be forced to sell your body on the streets? Do you think that is awesome, Mr. Beilschmidt?"
Gilbert actually didn't see that much wrong with his description, but he wisely kept his trap shut. And how did Mr. Kirkland know so much about being a rock star?
"Now, seeing as you're not one of my own, I can't stop you from throwing your life away if that is what you so desperately desire. My own son however, will not become a rock star."
Arthur was gripping his fork so tightly it almost bent over.
"You can't stop me from doing what I want," came his defiant voice.
Henry cocked an eyebrow, looking unamused at his youngest' persistence.
"We have gone through this many times Arthur, and I will not say it again. You are not becoming a musician. That is simply out of the question. If you hadn't magically shielded that unholy instrument of yours, I would have thrown it away a long time ago."
Arthur shot up, chair loudly scraping over the wooden floor.
"Can I be excused?" he asked with gritted teeth, taking deep breathes to try and control his anger.
Henry was about to follow his lead and stand up, but his wife laid a hand on his elbow to stop him. She then looked at Arthur with a gentle expression.
"You may leave," she said, urging him to make his escape now that he still had the possibility to do so.
Arthur pulled Gilbert along with him and ushered him out of the room, wanting to create as much distance between him and his father as possible.
Anglia used a napkin to dap at her plump lips before taking a sip of wine. She knew her son and grandson's stubbornness all too well, for it was her own. But where her anger came out in a much more calm and collected way, her boys simply exploded. It was best for Arthur to avoid such subjects around Henry as much as possible, for they were both very well-disciplined when it came to their knowledge of magic. And Anglia would much rather have the house stay in one piece.
With a sigh she set down her glass. Another regular day at the Kirkland residence. And right when she finally got to see one of Arthur's friends. She had already heard stories of the Japanese boy and the American brothers, but this specimen was new. Oh well, if Arthur didn't want to share such matters, that was in his own good right. She only hoped he wasn't hiding any secrets from his grandmother.
"Darling, don't you think you could give it a rest?" Jane tried to soothe her husband.
"Nonsense Jane! The boy needs to learn that starting a band has absolutely no future!"
Henry sighed and closed his eyes.
"You know I only want what's best for him."
"Of course dear."
The brothers had tuned out their conversation, already being more than familiar with the occasional discussion about their sibling's choice of career. In fact, almost every aspect of the boy's life had been talked about at least once at this very table.
The siblings didn't care much for such discussions. Yes, they too wanted what was best for their brother, but they also knew that sometimes it was better to let him be. Arthur was already eighteen years old, it was time for him to make his own decisions.
The brothers of course would never tell Arthur this, but the blond was actually quite coddled among them. It was a secret they had pledged to keep, not wanting their baby brother thinking his siblings were actually tender-hearted when it came to him.
xoxox
"I don't believe him!" Arthur raged, throwing books around like there was no tomorrow.
Gilbert sat on his bed and watched in silent amazement, making sure Gilbird didn't get hurt by the rampaging Brit. The bird was still fast asleep, the effects of the spell not having ended just yet.
The albino waited patiently for his friend to finish this little tantrum, knowing there wouldn't be much talking to him as long as the boy was ready to see blood.
The books were not so happy with the attention, but Arthur had a spell to easily put them back in their correct spaces as soon as he was finished throwing them around.
After fifteen minutes or so, the Brit finally calmed down a bit. He flopped onto his bed, panting after having released that much tension.
"Ist alles in Ordnung?" the werewolf asked, ears turning towards the blond in curiosity.
Arthur nodded, somehow understanding what the albino was saying to him.
"I'm sorry you had to witness that," he said, cheeks turning a shameful red.
This was the first time Gilbert had ever visited his home, and then to be met by a father-son discussion and his host having an anger fit? Now that simply wouldn't do.
"Nah, don't worry about it. I'm way too awesome to be bothered by such petty things!"
Arthur snorted.
"Still, I apologize."
He then sat up again, looking at his half-destroyed room.
"I'll clean that up first, and then I'll bring in the extra mattress. You can sleep in my bed if you want to-"
Gilbert cut him off with a short barking laughter.
"No way! This is your room, you sleep in your bed."
Arthur straightened his figure.
"It is my duty as a gentleman to lend you my bed."
Gilbert smirked, rubies flickering playfully.
"If you're the gentleman, does that make me the Fräulein in this situation?"
It took a moment for the Brit to understand that remark. As soon as he did though, he flushed a dark crimson.
"Wha- What are you saying you bloody dog? I didn't mean it like that, I-"
Gilbert was laughing that obnoxious mix between a howl and a bark again, harshly slapping the Brit on his back.
"I was just teasing! Geez, your Vater really stresses you out huh?"
Arthur frowned angrily.
"That wasn't funny! I'm much too tired to be dealing with such jokes, you dog."
"You weren't that tired when you stormed away from the dining room. I didn't even get to finish my food!"
Arthur deflated and was about to apologize once again, but Gilbert laid a paw over his mouth to stop him.
"But I did hear something rather interesting. So little Ari wants to become a rock star huh?"
The mage slapped at the fingers covering his lips.
"Do not ever call me that, unless you want me to turn you into a girl!"
Gilbert almost fell on the floor from the laughter that erupted next.
"Why a girl?" he snickered, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Although, male or female, I'll always be awesome."
"Oh shut it!" Arthur grumbled, although a light smile did find its way to his face.
"No but really, about that rock star-thing. Did you mean it?"
Arthur sighed in frustration.
"Of course I meant it, I wouldn't be fighting with my father if it weren't for that!"
Gilbert grinned widely, red orbs holding a knowing mien to them.
"So what are you waiting for?"
Arthur stared at him for a moment.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, my dearest Ari-" He ducked to avoid a punch before continuing his explanation. "Why wait until after graduation? If you want to be a rock star, why not start now?"
Arthur leant back to study the wolf's face, arms crossed in front of his chest.
"What are you getting at?" he asked, the beginning of an idea starting to form in his head.
"I am saying: you have a guitar. I have a drum set. I know that if we ask Antonio, he'll join without hesitation – he has a guitar as well. We have all we need to start a band. So why not just do it? And I heard you a moment ago; you're definitely good enough to be in a band."
Arthur wanted to say the plan was preposterous, a huge waste of time. But then the thought grew, became something more palpable, something that maybe, maybe, could become reality.
His mouth slid into a wider grin.
Yes. He certainly liked this idea.
Emerald clashed with ruby, the mutual understanding combining their souls in that moment.
"Mr. Beilschmidt," Arthur said, in an exact imitation of his father's voice.
"I think we have ourselves an agreement."
And with that mage and werewolf shook the other's hand, sealing the deal.
The future starts now!
xoxox
1) Anglia is the personification of Britannia.
Words:
Rot: Red (German)
Nein Danke: No thank you
Fräulein: Miss
Ist alles in Ordnung?: Is everything all right?
Vater: Father
