A few weeks passed, and Tino and his family had settled in nicely. It hadn't even been a month, and Tino already couldn't imagine living anywhere else. Peter was happy here, and had made two friends, Yao's kid Li Xiang and a trembling boy named Ravis, whom he dragged along on adventure after adventure. Since Li Xiang was a genius he could make even Peter's most ludicrous ideas happen, which is why they had gotten the three boys off of the roof five times already. Arthur had been extremely helpful, more often than not at Tino's side, and running the household smoothly.
Berwald agreed, but silently thought something strange was going on, or at least something that wasn't normal. The house seemed….different from their old one somehow. And once or twice, unbeknownst to Arthur, the Swed had seen the British man talking quietly to himself, but spoke as if there was someone else there with him. Peter and his two new friends had been in the forest several times, and true to what Arthur had said, none of them had so much as a scratch to show for it. And Berwald knew that wasn't normal. No ten year old went anywhere without getting curious and at the very least a scratch or bruise to show their curiosity with.
One night, two weeks into living in his new house, Tino got out of bed sleepily. He could have sworn he heard…music notes, of all things. Who played music this late at night? It was pretty music, some notes upbeat, others slower, with a rhythm that almost sounded like the ups and downs of speech if he tuned his ears right.
But who would be playing the piano? Only Yao and Arthur were still here, Yao finishing up work-even though it was now 11:00 at night-and Arthur had said he needed to finish a few last minute things. Tino hadn't asked, instead just nodding. He trusted Arthur a lot by now, enough not to question any strange things he did. But neither of them were musicians.
In fact, Tino had heard the piano playing a few days ago during dinner, but Arthur had just yelled "Shut up!" and it stopped immediately. None of the servants would answer Tino's question as to who it was, and honestly, that befuddled the Fin. The nineteen new friends he had made took his ownership of them pretty seriously, teaching, explaining, or doing anything he wished, and that was the first thing they had closed up on him about. Yao had sent him a sympathetic and apologetic smile-Tino had gotten to know the Oriental man better and he was actually really nice, proud, but docile for the most part-but had refused to explain.
Well, he was going to find out now. So deciding Tino padded down the hallway in his red and green pajamas to the piano room, where the music was coming from. Slowly pushing open the door Tino saw a big, beautiful room, empty except for a grand piano on a raised part. Beautiful music was still playing, but Tino's breath caught in his throat as he switched on the light and saw that his initial thought hadn't been a trick of the light.
There was no one in the room but him. And the piano was still playing.
Choking down hysteria Tino slowly approached the piano, hoping and praying that he was seeing wrong. But no; he could see the keys, pressing down all by themselves, no one sitting on the piano seat. Taking deep breaths Tino finally screamed, hysteria cracking his voice, "Berwald! Arthur!"
When Berwald flung open the door, Arthur close behind, the large man saw his beloved wife standing next to the piano, hugging himself and taking huge gasping breaths. Berwald quickly scooped up the hyperventilating man, hugging him close. The Fin clung to him, burrowing his face into the other's chest as Arthur sunk down onto the floor next to him, rubbing soothing circles on his back. As the 24 year old's breathing began to slow Arthur fetched a chair and Berwald gently placed Tino in it, still maintaining contact with his wife.
Arthur came back, bending down worriedly to look Tino in the face as the Fin finally looked calm enough to talk. "What happened Master? You look bloody pale lad. Did you see a spirit?"
"Just Tino please." Tino corrected on reflex-Arthur was trying but still couldn't get the hang of addressing him informally-before shaking his head. "No, no not a ghost. At least I don't think it was. I heard piano music and came in here to see who was playing. But there, there's no one here!"
Berwald looked at Tino, shocked, then looked up at Arthur with wide eyes as Arthur made a noise that was half growl, half aggravated sigh and stood up, barking, "House!" Quiet, nervous music filled the air and the couple watched as Arthur scoffed. "Oh don't give me that! I told you specifically not to make a sound until I said so! You already disobeyed once and you are so lucky Yao stepped in then! What is so bloody hard about staying quiet?"
Whining music, like a misbehaving child trying to explain and Arthur let out a harsh laugh. But before he could continue yelling Tino heard, "What's all the yelling about aru? I could hear you from in the kitchen aru!" Instantly the music got even more pathetic, and it seemed like all the objects in the room moved closer to the feminine Chinese man. Yao listened for a moment, and then turned to Arthur, aghast. "Arthur!"
The Brit huffed and crossed his arms, glaring at the piano. "Bloody tattle tale…"
Yao maintained his glare. "Don't yell at the house aru! It can't help it that it was excited!"
"It was one simple order! Act like a normal house for once in its bloody life! How hard is that?" Arthur sighed in exasperation as Yao ran a loving hand over a table that seemed to arch into his touch as the Oriental man cooed soothing words. "Yao, Yao don't mother the bloody thing! It disobeyed!"
The Chinese man glared scoldingly at Arthur. "Arthur, the house is a cross between a five year old and a puppy aru. You can't ask it to always behave aru."
"I'm not expecting it to behave all the time! I'm asking it to behave once! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to comfort our traumatized owner!" Snarling a bit in anger Arthur spun on his heel and began to stalk over to the astounded Tino and Berwald, his steps and body softening as he approached, until he seemed to Tino as kindly as he always did. In one fluid movement Arthur knelt, looking up at the shocked Fin with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry lad. We didn't mean for you to find out this way. How are you feeling?"
"A, a bit better." Tino managed, and that was slightly true. "Wh-what's going on? What the hell just happened?"
Arthur let out a regretful sigh and bit his lip before answering. "This house, this house isn't normal lad. It's….well, it's magic."
Tino blinked, stunned. He was a fantasy author, and devoured fantasy books like no tomorrow, but reading about magic was a bit different from actually encountering it. "M-magic?"
His servant nodded, deadly serious. "Magic. The house has a personality all its own, a cross between a puppy and a five year old, like Yao said."
The house-for that was all it could be-played the piano and Yao sighed, petting the walls comfortingly. "Oh I know, I know, but you know Arthur, he just doesn't want anything bad to happen." A few more notes and Yao laughed. "Shi, shi, sometimes it's like I'm the good parent, Arthur's the bad parent and you're our kid, right aru?"
Even through his shock Tino couldn't help noticing the blush on Arthur's face and the wistful look he sent Yao before looking back to Tino. "We don't know how it's magic-" He snorted and raised his eyes to the ceiling. "I built the bloody place and I don't know how it happened!"
Tino's eyebrows wrinkled at that. "But, but this house has been in my family for generations. How old are you?"
"24 and not a day older Master."
"How….long have you been 24?" Tino asked warily, not sure he wanted to know. "When were you born?"
Smiling kindly Arthur laid a comforting hand on Tino's knee. "Think the Charles Dickens era lad."
The Fin froze and his blood ran cold. Arthur was born in the 17th century! Taking a few deep breaths-that didn't calm him one bit-Tino managed, "I, I need some time I think." So saying he grabbed Berwald, got Peter, and left, telling Berwald to go somewhere, anywhere.
His faithful husband drove to a hotel, and once they were checked in and Peter was asleep in a bed Tino collapsed in a chair, head in his hands. "My house….my house is magic….at least one of my servants has gotta be ageless or immortal or something….oh god, what have I gotten us into?"
Berwald sat on the bed next to the chair and rubbed Tino's back soothingly. "Th'y c'n't be too b'd. Y'r uncle tr'sted 'em w'th you."
"Ye-yeah but, god Berwald, this is so, this is so wrong and so weird, I don't know what to do!"
%%%%%
Arthur stared forlornly at the closed door. He had followed his owner down the stairs, desperately trying to say something, anything to keep the slight Fin and his family in the house. But they were gone now, and Yao had gone up to the attic, where he always went when he and/or the house was depressed. And now Arthur was standing here, staring at the front door to the house that his master had closed in his confused, scared flight from him, the house, and all the others. What would he do now?
Sad, apologetic, tinkling notes, desperation evident in them, echoed through the house that suddenly felt a whole lot emptier. A house needed an owner, a servant needed an owner, and theirs was gone. Arthur heaved a hopeless sigh and sunk down to the floor, sliding down the wall. "Well house, it looks like we scared away this one as well."
