We've finally arrived at completely post-canon Pandora Hearts. I know some people will probably be disappointed, but I didn't write Vincent's death or Gilbert, Oz, and Edith's reunion in here. As I've said before, I seriously doubt I could match up to Mochizuki Jun for impact.
Mel/singingforthepromises: I've had several reviews mentioning how, in the previous chapter, they originally thought the cold opening was about Edith. I did that on purpose. Confusion sucks a reader in, after all, trying to find some way to clarify - and PH used this technique several times on its own flashbacks.
Interestingly, Hedia's insistence that Oz is backsliding is not because "Lewis" had finally distanced himself from "Oz," but rather he simply hadn't confided in his family or friends most of what he found out about himself. He'd had started putting his identities together long before he came out and said he wanted to return to his old name. And because he'd started putting himself back together, the appearances of 'Oz,' or rather, the episodes in which his alternating memories dramatically changed his state of mind, became less, because he as 'Lewis' was becoming more aware and accepting of those memories. Eventually, he integrated 'Oz' into who he is, and lost the divide between "Lewis" and "Oz" altogether. And finding proof that he wasn't crazy - meeting Vincent, and finding Alice and Gilbert again - helped seal any remaining cracks.
The downside of this is that, to everyone who knew him, it just looks like Lewis went from being fine to bringing "Oz" back after two years of silence. Hedia may be wrong, but she has every right to be worried.
Finally, I'd like to announce that I'll be updating the next chapter this Friday, instead of the day-after-next pattern like I've been doing. My break's ended, which has significantly cut down my writing and researching time for this fic. But I refuse to let myself slip behind!
Beyond the Winding Road
By Emori Loul
Advance VII: ~Avalon~*
Inside her stateroom, like the center doll inside some sort of Fabergé matryoshka, Lisette II, Queen of All Sable, sat signing articles of laws that had been sent to her earlier in the hour. Her attendants stood next to her, silent and ready.
A knock came on the door. It opened, and a man in uniform walked in and flattened his back against it.
"Gilbert Baskerville-Nightray to see you, your majesty."
The Queen nodded. Her attendants did not move.
The man that walked in following this address was young-looking. He had thin eyes with golden irises, prominent cheeks and hair that had never been tame as long as she could remember.
There was only one thing in the world that had tamed him, and he allowed it do so willingly. Never again, no matter whose orders, would another so captivated his will.
He bowed to Lisette, but out of respect and fondness, and nothing more. He still remembered her as the little girl from her childhood, whom he had seen come into this world, whom he had seen grow, and whom he would likely see go out.
"So you're resigning," she finally said to him.
He stayed in his straight-backed stance, but Lisette could have sworn he swallowed with some difficulty. She maintained the silence for a minute, the stillness, and many things were said across that soundless void.
Eventually, she put her pen down. She put her hands in her lap. She adjusted herself to face him.
"You've found what you've been looking for, then?"
For Lisette had been told. She had been told about his reasons, his vows. She had known since she was made heir exactly what judgement day had caused this man to walk the earth.
He didn't respond.
The Queen paused, staring at him with majestic poise. She was an old woman, wrinkled and frail, skin translucent over bones still strong enough to hold up nations (for now)and he—he was a young man, handsome of face, youthful of skin, old only in his eyes. Yet she had known him all of her life.
"You may go," she said. And he bowed out, impossibly old while she so very young.
"This is always my favorite part of the trip," Oz said, leaning his head over the rail so that the tips of his sunny hair caught the breeze and the intense dying firelight of the sun. "I love watching for porpoises and dolphins in the water. Anderson and I used to make a game out of it, before we had to take it every week to school. I think he got tired of it, after a while."
Next to him, Edith and Gilbert, at each of his sides, watched the sun set golden over the Repos Strait. Edith seemed to be doing her best to keep her eyes open, her arms draped over the railing and her head half on Oz's shoulder.
"I think I can understand getting tired," she mumbled, her voice muffled partially by her arm.
Gilbert said nothing in response to this, his hand toying with a piece of Oz's hair.* He'd offered to bring her back to where their car and chauffeur was earlier, but she'd resisted.
"Did you call your parents?" he said finally, voice low so only Oz could hear.
The boy nodded. "They're having a bit of a difficult time with Elaine. Maybe we should stop to eat before we head to the house; I think they need more time to prepare her."
Gilbert nodded quietly, continuing to absentmindedly play with Oz's hair, strands ablaze in the gold bouncing off the water.
The ferry shuttered from a shift in the engine, but it seemed Edith was so far gone by then she didn't notice.
"We'll go back next year, right? To Orlueur?" Oz smiled. "And I'll bring those pink fluffy dice Vincent wouldn't let me hang in his Mercedes. I'll put them right in front of the grave."
Oz wasn't looking, but he was pretty sure he heard a chuckle at that.
"Of course, we're going to have to teach you how to drive," Oz added, saying the words so softly most people would assume he was talking to himself.
Gilbert's hand, still in Oz's hair, stilled.
"What?" Oz questioned, but his tone gave him away.
"No."
"You say that now~"
"Oz."
"Lewis?"
They both jumped at the sound, jostling Edith, to the latter's great displeasure. She moaned slightly before clamping down onto Oz's arm with her hands, trying to force it not to move.
Oz didn't notice the constricting blood flow, he was much to focused on the newcomer.
"Anderson?" Oz said with confusion. "Oh wait," he realized, "Today's Friday, isn't it?" The day he and Anderson usually took the ferry home from their college and/or private boarding school.
"Yeah, it is," his brother said flatly, raising a critical blonde eyebrow to the man absently brushing his little brother's hair with his fingers. "He part of your history group?"
"Mom called and told you about that?"
"I'm kind of pissed that you didn't, to be honest." There was definitely an undercurrent of anger as Anderson grit out those words, but with his blue eyes constantly on Gilbert, his anger obviously wasn't focused on Oz. "Who is he?"
"Oh," Oz said, stepping aside a little (forcing Gilbert's hand out of his hair and accidentally jolting Edith again) so nothing was blocking Gilbert from Anderson. "This is Gilbert."
Anderson looked between the two of them. "Gilbert who?"
Gilbert straightened up, attempting to look more like the mature, composed adult he was supposed to be (and not the emotional leech clinging to two fifteen year olds that he'd been acting like for the past few hours). He bowed slightly, never one to forget his manners.
"It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Gilbert Nightray."
Both blonde eyebrows went down this time. "Huh. Really?"
Gilbert nodded. "Ye—uffgh—"
A fist was planted in his stomach before withdrawn and replaced with a kick to the back of the knees, knocking Gil flat. "I don't care WHO you are, you creep, but you could at least have the decency to not lie to me! Keep your pedophile hands off my little brother!"
Anderson raised a hand to hit him between the shoulder blades, but Gil grabbed it and twisted his arm, knocking him on his back. He then pinned both of Anderson's arms above his head while he was still on the ground.
Oz, openmouthed and watching the small battle with confusion on the actions of both parties, stayed at the periphery of their fight so as not to get hit by the many flailing limbs. "Andy, this really isn't what you're assuming," he tried, attempting to placate his angry older sibling. "It'd be better if you cooled down…"
"Stay out of this, Shorty!" Anderson yelled, struggling to kick Gil with his legs while still on his back. He looked something like an upside-down turtle trying to right itself. "You're the one who fell for this guy's act with such an obviously fake name!"
"I-It's not," said Gilbert, trying to recompose himself but failing as he kept dodging Anderson's feet, "it's not like that! That really is my name!"
"Yeah right! I've had enough asshats trying to screw with my brother's head and find a trigger to know the difference!"
Oz exhaled deeply out his nose, staring at the two on the ground with eyes wide with exasperation and boldly fighting the urge to apply his hand to his face. "Why do I feel like this has happened before…?" He shook Edith gently to wake her up. "Come on, E. We've got to stop these two idiots before somebody calls the crew and gets us banned."
In the end, all they did was end up taking the fight to Ely House. It was not the homecoming Beatrix or Richard had imagined, in all honesty.
"MOM!" Anderson's scream was the first thing they heard, echoing from the front hallway and into the dining room where they'd been setting for their guests. "Lewis brought a pedophile home! I demand you evict him!"
"Me or the pedophile?" came their youngest son's voice, sounding like he'd had gotten tired of trying to stop his brother's tiff with their guests and decided to taunt him for it instead.
"Oz! I haven't even met your parents yet, don't encourage this!"
"Don't call him Oz!"
Richard and Beatrix stilled from where they were setting the drinking glasses and looked up straight into each other's eyes. Both looked like they expected nothing less.
"Our boys are home." Beatrix announced dryly.
"Our boys are home," her husband agreed. They put down the things in their hands (the last napkins and forks respectively) and went to greet their children in the entrance hall.
The girl Edith was the first to acknowledge their presence. She sniffed the air when they got closer. "Smells like meat," she announced excitedly.
"Quit the drooling, stupid rabbit. We're guests." That came from the unknown of the group, a tall dark man with golden eyes in a pristine suit.
Anderson growled something along the lines of "can't even treat his own friends nicely," while Edith stopped bouncing and stared at the man.
"Wha—? But I thought Oz—"* The Tale parents watched as she looked between the man and their youngest son, confusedly.
The tall man saw this, and his annoyance faded to a troubled look. "I suppose—sorry, then." He turned away, which coincidentally let his eyes land on them.
Beatrix cleared her throat, and the squabbling ones went silent as Oz glided over and gave them both a hug. Anderson, blushing and glaring over his shoulder at the tall man, eventually went and did the same.
"Now," Richard finally said, trying to keep the tone light, "What's this about a pedophile?"
Their youngest son groaned and this time really did put his hand to his face.
"This guy's a creep, Dad!" Anderson accused, readjusting the weight of his travel bag over his shoulder. "He keeps calling himself Gilbert Nightray, and Lewis Oz. And he won't leave."
"That's because he's our guest," Beatrix replied, "Oz called ahead of time. Gilbert here has just recently moved apartments, and his things won't be in Carillon until Sunday."
Oz, despite being the one who told them this, sent a questioning look towards the guest in question.
"I don't care if he's our guest, that's not what I'm ta—Oz?"
Both parents winced, Richard quietly muttering "Oh, boy. Not this again." That should have come out more slowly.
"You're doing it TOO?" Anderson gaped at them like they'd just confessed to deliberately running over a homeless person.
"Andy," Beatrix said, trying to intervene as she saw the rage building on her eldest's face. "Andy, we need to have a long talk, and I have a feeling you might not want to listen right now." Anderson looked like he wanted to retort, but she charged right through his words. "So I think we should instead have dinner, and do all the talking we need afterwards."
"As if I want to eat with any of them!" He thrust a pointing finger towards Edith and Gilbert.
Beatrix somehow rose from her short stature in anger. "Anderson!"
There was quiet.
"We'll be eating in the dining room, this time," she said to her son coldly. "Put your bag on the stairs, you can bring it up later."
Beatrix turned on her heels and walked down the hallway. Richard, left behind for a minute, wrapped an arm around Oz's shoulders. He didn't think the boy himself had noticed, but Richard could see that his youngest was shaking slightly.
"Come on, Bud," he said gently. He grinned, though it came off as fabricated. "Food makes everything better!"
"I hear that!" The girl Edith called, looping her own arm through Oz's limply hanging own. Behind the two was the tall man, Gilbert, who silently put a comforting hand on the back of Oz's head.
From the dining room, they heard a cry. "OKAY, NOW WHO'S THIS WOMAN?" and then "NOPE. I'M DONE. GOODNIGHT." And down the hallway, several doors slammed one after the other.
Richard tried to be positive. "Well, at least dinner will be quieter now."
AN: I did tell you some of these hints wouldn't be subtle. If you can't figure out who some of these people are, I'm going to be sad. XD And Gil, you're technically over two hundred years old by now and you can't stop petting a fifteen year old boy, you're going to need way better proof than "I'm not, I promise" to convince Oz's bro you're not a creep.
But I still had fun with this! Anderson's fun to write. He's like a simmering volcano of overprotective brother-ness and rage. Unfortunately, he's not good at controlling that rage, and so he lashes out at pretty much everybody. Bad Anderson! No dinner for you! (But he doesn't want it anyway, he nope'd right out of there). Surprisingly, though, his motives for anger actually make him very similar to Edith and Hedia in some ways, Hedia more obviously then Edith.
*Each chapter's name is themed off of who's in it. Oz has dolls, Hedia has puppets, Alice/Edith has princesses (due to the fact that in-story, she shares many gothic princess tropes), and now the trio united have paradises (Avalon being the old English idea of paradise featured in the Arthurian legends).
*There have been several moments in the manga where Gil touches Oz for no reason, including some where he just seems to subconsciously play with Oz's hair. It seems to be more like a comfort mechanism when Gil's worried, proof that Oz actually is there and isn't about to disappear again for another ten years. So I had Gil do it here. Too bad it makes him look creepy (he doesn't even have the "he's my master" excuse anymore)... actually, now that I think about it, the trio as a whole are all very touchy in the manga, aren't they? And the Tales are all "very huggy people," as the meme goes, so they'll probably fit in well.
*Edith doesn't answer to the "stupid rabbit" moniker because, as clearly evident from the Oz comment, she doesn't really remember ever taking on the role as B-Rabbit. In her mind, that is, and always has been, Oz. And Gil realizes this after saying it, which is why he reacts so poorly - it's easy, when she's drooling over meat and Oz is teasing people, to forget that things have changed - that they have changed.
