Gilbert Beilschmidt- Prussia
Chapter Three: Of Kidnappings, Missing Brits, and Worried Friends
Eliza fell back against the sofa; the day had been quite busy, especially for an introverted student masquerading as a man most of the time. After she met back up with Marco, who luckily hadn't noticed her wander off to speak to the faeries as he had been too occupied talking (ok, more like listening to and trying to get a word in edgewise) with Antonio, the two of them had slowly made their way back to her house.
Eliza sighed, reaching over to the table for the mug of tea she left there. It was about the only thing Eliza could be trusted with making, according to… well, to everyone, actually (in fact, there was only one person who made worse food than her- Iain. His food was downright lethal). Which was why Marco was in the kitchen making supper for them. His food was quite good, there was no denying that, but he never remembered to tidy up afterwards, so Eliza always ended up cleaning up after him.
Marco stuck his head out the kitchen door and called "Food's ready!" Eliza stood up from the sofa, taking her cup of tea with her and trudged into the kitchen. She had changed out of the fashionable outfit Marco had chosen for her and pulled on one of Gwyd's old football jerseys (he was the only one of her older brothers who actually washed his jersey after games and not at the end of the season) and a pair loose-fitting sweatpants. She sat down at the kitchen table under the window looking out over the back yard, while Marco took the plates to the table. They ate slowly, talking and laughing until their plates were empty, and glasses drained. The sun was setting when Marco left.
"See you tomorrow; I'll walk you to school," Marco offered, standing on the front stoop.
"That's not necessary, Marco. I'll meet you at the gate, ok." Marco looked like he thought about objecting, but just nodded.
"See you later, then. Good night." He stepped off, waving once he reached the small gate, and walked away. Eliza waved back and stayed in the doorway until he was out of sight. Then, with a small sigh, she turned and walked back inside. She set about cleaning off the table when she looked into the yard and saw the circle she had been working on this morning when Marco had come and dragged her away from her work.
Grumbling, she left the dishes on the table, slipped on a light jumper, and stepped outside to finish up the circle. The evening air was warm, but with the edge that suggested a cooler night later. Standing the centre of the circle, Eliza took a deep breath to begin the spell, when a sudden noise made her pause. Without a second thought, she switched to Arthur. Better for Arthur to be seen standing in a magic circle at night than for Eliza.
He froze, listening for any other sounds, apart from the rustling of the trees in the wind. All was silent. Not even the wind ruffled his hair.
Arthur couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was wrong; something felt off. Turning slowly on the spot, he narrowed his eyes, so similar to Eliza's, trying to spot any movement.
Then, all at once, something crashed into the back of his head, knocking him to the ground, unconscious. Three people stood over his prone figure, staring down at him.
"Are you sure this is the one?" Asked the tallest one.
"No, not really, but we're running out of options, aren't we." Responded the middle one, kneeling down to roll Arthur over onto his back.
"Well, let's get moving. We've got a lot of ground to cover before sunrise. You two take turns carrying him." The final one said, walking away and leaving the other two with Arthur. The tallest lifted Arthur up off the ground easily and onto his back, using a small piece of fabric to tie Arthur's wrists together around his neck. The shorter one muttered "show-off" before they starting running to catch up with the other figure who was just vanishing into the trees.
Marco stood at the gate to the Academy, shifting from foot to foot. He glanced at his watch for the second time in the last thirty seconds, before looking around the street and the courtyard behind him.
"Where are you, Liz…" He murmured to himself.
Farther in the courtyard, Francis was also looking worried, though he kept trying to hide it from his friends, Antonio and Gilbert. Gilbert had noticed how Francis kept twitching, his eyes flicking towards the gate. Antonio was sadly oblivious to his friend's worries, his mind far away, worrying about Lovina.
The bell in the clock tower in the centre of town chimed half nine and the students lingering in the central courtyard starting making their way to classes and lectures. At the gate, Marco looked back towards the far end of the street where Arthur should have already walked down an hour ago one last time, before turning and slowly walking towards the Academy. Francis was similarly looking around, searching for someone or something, but had to go to his own courses at the Naval Academy.
At lunch break, Gilbert dragged Francis from his class, down the corridor, up the stairs to the roof of the Academy, before stopping in the middle, and turning to face his friend.
"Ok, what the hell is wrong with you today? You've been moping, jumping at every person who comes in the door, I mean, seriously!" Gilbert growled, looking both annoyed and a little worried.
Francis looked like he was going to deny any odd behaviour, but the looks on Gilbert's face seemed to say 'don't you dare avoid this' so he just sighed.
"Arthur didn't show up today…" Gilbert opened his mouth to say something, but Francis cut him off. "And before you say that he's just avoiding me, I haven't even seen him around that Portuguese kid he always hangs out with." Gilbert shook his head.
"He's probably just sick; don't worry so much."
"I suppose it's possible, but I'm sure someone would known and mentioned it." Francis murmured, walking over to the side of the building and leaning against the fence that ran around the rooftop.
"Look, if you're so concerned, head over to his house after classes!" Gilbert leaned back against the fence next to Francis.
"I would, if I knew where he lived, Gil."
"You don't? But, I thought you stalked Eyebrows." Francis gave him a sharp look at the word 'eyebrows.' "Ok, I won't call him that, but really, I thought you knew everything about him."
"Well, I clearly don't, do I. And I don't stalk Arthur! I tried, but he always slipped away from me."
"…Still not convinced you're not stalking him." Gil chuckled and Francis glared at his friend. "But, you could ask Marco or maybe even Al or Mattie."
"I don't believe it Gil! You had a valid idea, for once, mon ami! Do I really need to translate this?" Francis gave Gil a hug before dashing to the door and sprinting down the stairs, leaving Gil behind on the roof. Gil just shook his head. Francis may be one of his best mates, but that didn't stop him from feeling exasperated by him every once in a while.
Back with Francis, running down the stairs to the third floor before being forced to slow his pace so as not to crash into people in the corridors. He weaved his way around students, before heading down the main staircase to the ground floor. Throwing open the large front doors, he ran up to Marco, who was seated on a flower box's brick surround, staring at the Academy's gate whilst fiddling with a sandwich.
"MARCELO! Où est Arthur? Where's Arthur?" Marco jumped at hearing his name shouted across the courtyard. Francis approached and looked at him expectantly. He repeated his question, this time in English.
"Oh…. I don't know. I was going to go to his house after my class ends at 2 pm." Marco looked as worried as Francis felt.
"I'm coming with you." Marco looked at him sharply.
"Why? To mock him if he's sick? Can't you just leave him alone, Francis?" He growled, annoyed.
"No! I would never do that to Arthur!" Francis said in a shocked and slightly angry tone.
"Yes, you would. And you have. You've always taken such delight in hurting him! Do you really hate him that much?"
"H-hurting him? I would never intentionally hurt anyone, especially Arthur. Please, let me come with you to see if he's all right." Francis was at the point of begging, a rare occurrence for him, not to mention he was giving Marco such a pleading look, he finally gave in.
"Fine. But one quip—just one—and you'll find yourself out the door. Got it?" Francis nodded, a huge smile on his face.
Author's notes:
Right-o! Third chapter complete. I don't really know how long this story will be, so bear with me. Next chapter, I'm bringing in femRomano and femNorway, along with the British Isles brothers (because I love those blokes, especially Scotland- Edinburgh is really beautiful, as is Loch Lomond!)
Anyway, thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and favourited this story. Always makes me happy to see who has read the result of me just trying to get rid of this bit of brain crack.
Thanks and see you next week!
I'm completely serious about this being brain crack. Just an idea I had one day and it wouldn't go away, so I decided 'why not just write it? Maybe that'll get it out of your head!' So I did. It still hasn't gone away. Oh well.
