Raven, Abducted
Warning: abuse including implied rape of a minor, OOC, AU, tons of angst and fluff
Chapter IX: Alice
Oz watched in silent amusement as Mrs. Kate ushered Gilbert around the kitchen. It was clear he knew what to do, but he had no idea where anything was kept and therefore kept getting in her way. He almost felt bad... almost. But then... the raven still seemed to err on the side of caution. Of course, it had only been several days, so he didn't know what he was expecting. His previous master must've been strict on a whole new level. And he thought Mrs. Kate was strict. But Gilbert bent over half in a bow at one point when he spilled a negligible amount of hot tea on the counter, and even the stern woman seemed taken aback. Thinking about what his old master might've done as punishment made him feel slightly ill. Never in his life had he laid a hand on any servants of his. After all, they weren't working for free. He stepped from the room and wandered aimlessly down the hallway. It was too early for breakfast, but he shouldn't venture too far from the parlor room (he preferred to eat in there rather than the dining hall when it was him alone). What did he even do before Gilbert arrived...?
His life was slowly being consumed by him. The worst part was, he didn't mind. What happened to his resolve to keep the boy at arm's length, no, at least curtain rod length…? He mulled it over, reclined on the windowsill and frowned up at the bronze rod. It happened just as he'd expected and feared. He'd started to let the boy in, and worse, he was starting to seek him out. Is this what having a friend was like? Do friends consume your time and your thoughts? That seemed like overkill...
Every time Gilbert opened up, even by a fraction, he couldn't help but feel accomplished. It had started to become his goal to break him out of his shell, except that Oz found he liked the casing, too.
He'd learned early on in his life that friends were manipulative. Friends only came around when it was convenient. Friends in nobility were temporary. In his opinion, he didn't understand why he should expend energy when he'd just be rejected. To the nobility, appearance was everything, which included publicly acclaimed friendships which didn't translate over in privacy. And... well, he'd experienced this so many times he'd lost count. He wasn't largely important to anyone. But people were too much work anyway; the only one worth working for was himself. That wasn't to say he didn't care for anyone. He had his sister Ada, but she'd lived with his father for most of their childhood and recently enrolled in a boarding school. Or rather... half-sister. But that was a thought for another time. Then there was Uncle Oscar who treated him more like a son than his own father had. He'd always be grateful, but he, as well, had his own life and never lived here. This mansion was largely empty save for himself. That's why he'd 'entertain' himself by going to parties and people watching. At times, the estate served as an extension of his father's business, Pandora, when he required more office space. But when those meetings occurred, he was strictly prohibited from wandering anywhere near that wing of the mansion.
And outside of his family... well, there was Sharon Rainsworth, at least. They met at a brunch when he was eleven. A little less standoffish back then, he begged her for a dance and they became fast friends. She was one of the only other nobles he knew who he could be honest with. In fact, she had a party coming up in just over half a month.
And obviously, there was...
"Master Oz."
He turned his head lazily to the side in response. Gilbert stood straight with his hands folded behind his back. When he saw Oz watching, he bowed slightly and announced, "Your breakfast is ready, master."
Oz sighed and rolled until his feet touched the floor. That could use some work. Did he have to be so formal? What the hell did his old master do, force him to wear a weight around his neck?
Well, actually... considering the bits of abuse he did see, he again didn't want to imagine just what his new servant had been through. And yet he found himself contemplating the subject quite frequently. He'd have Gilbert forget. He'd replace that hell of a past.
Because despite his aversion to bonds, friendship, the whole concept of permanence, even if this were just a temporary chapter of his life... he would protect him. That was simply a master's responsibility.
The next several days went similarly. Gilbert quickly adapted to the change in environment, finally becoming a productive member of the mansion rather than stepping on Mrs. Kate's toes. Even she seemed impressed by the way he handled himself, especially in the kitchen. He was a great cook. Oz would simply sit and watch him in the kitchen at times. It seemed to be the only place the raven felt confident; he would space out and cook as if on autopilot. He didn't even seem to notice the noble sitting on the unused counter space, leaning against the window overlooking the garden. For once, Oz didn't even feel like teasing him. The kitchen became an odd place of serenity.
A younger female maid walked in and smiled at the blonde before handing him a letter.
"Young master, this came for you," she said and reclined her head before turning to leave the room.
"Thank you, Sarah," he called after her and she looked somewhat surprised, probably thinking he didn't know her name, and rushed out of the room. Was it that surprising that he knew the names of his maids? Oh well.
"M-master Oz."
He stifled the small grin he felt forming; Gilbert had finally been alerted to his presence, even though he'd been sitting here for a good ten minutes. But he didn't have to know that.
"Gilbert, I've been here for over a half hour. Can't you even notice your master sitting in the same room as you?" he pouted dramatically. He had the distinct feeling that the raven knew he was lying, but he turned red anyway. Success. He turned back to the stove, losing his finesse.
"Um, I... well, do you need anything?"
He hummed, "Mm, no," then smirked and retracted his earlier decision to not tease him while he worked, "You're just cute when you cook, Gilbert~!"
Drawing delight from the raven's blanch, he suddenly remembered his letter. He stuck his finger in the envelope as a makeshift letter opener and sloppily ripped it open. Wait, uh... who was it from, anyway? Turning the destroyed envelope over, he fit the pieces back together.
Alice Baskerville
Ah, he hadn't written her in a while. Was this a letter of discontentment? He just didn't have anything to say! Wasn't their mutual acknowledgment of their companionship enough? Drumming his boots against the cupboard door beneath him in a childish manner, he unfolded the letter with some trepidation.
Skimming through, he noticed... it wasn't angry at all. In fact... yes. His mood lifted considerably with excitement. Alice was coming to visit!
He hadn't listed her earlier as one of his 'friends' because he'd already mentioned her before. She was always there. His best friend to date. But they rarely saw each other and he was awful at maintaining friendships long distance.
According to the letter, she'd be here by the end of next week. He smiled; she'd be here in time to accompany him to the Rainsworth party. Sharon would be thrilled.
He was broken out of his daze by the sound of a metal serving platter hitting the counter next to him.
"Hey... I told you I didn't need anything," he said as Gilbert filled a teacup for him. He was surprised when the raven hung his head, as if exhausted by his words.
"Master, please, just... let me do this for you."
And he did, he sounded tired, and Oz's blood pressure rose a few beats because he realized that maybe he was going about this the wrong way. In trying to make the raven more comfortable, he was quite possibly making him feel useless in the same breath. It was ironic, really, how not long ago he'd felt similar when his services were rejected out of politeness. If Gilbert wanted to serve him tea, then he'd allow himself to be served tea. Hmph.
So he hugged his knees to his chest and rocked along the edge of the counter, bouncing off with his boots and sipping from the teacup. It was probably horrible manners to have his shoes on the counter where food might later be prepared... ah well. He continued watching the raven prepare food for dinner. Today was the first day cooking on his own; he begged Mrs. Kate to let him try.
Why did Gilbert have to be so careful with him? It's like those nights spent seeking each other's company never happened; that those moments of companionship were so easily replaced with the attitude of a simple valet.
To be honest, it was a little… his brain danced around the word "lonely," scoffing, but nonetheless the feeling settled deep in his bones.
Even that earlier confidence was replaced with an uncertainty that made Oz roll his eyes. Earlier he'd never seen anyone so comfortable in the kitchen, but now...
Pushing off the counter, he instead favored the bit of the island counter behind where Gilbert was working. He took another sip of his tea. Those shoulders seemed to tense even more now that he was closer.
Sighing audibly, he ventured, "Gilbert, you were fine before you knew I was here."
As expected, the raven stuttered out an argument, "No, I mean... it's fine if you want to be here, master."
"Oz."
He got silence in response and he huffed a little in exasperated amusement. As if he'd actually expected that to work.
"If my presence makes you uncomfortable, then I'll leave."
He meant it seriously and faltered a little at his own honesty, even though his tone was light. It was a little offensive that the raven couldn't be comfortable with him. Didn't he understand yet why he would prefer to be called Oz...?
Turning to leave out the main kitchen door next to the stove Gilbert was working at, he paused when he heard him speak. He didn't need to explain himself. Oz wasn't fishing for reassurance, he was simply stating that he was leaving because it wasn't his intention to make him uncomfortable.
"Th-that's not it. I just..." he set the spoon he was stirring soup with down in a porcelain holder and gripped the edges of the counter, "I don't really know how to act around you yet... but I will! It's not that I... don't want you around..."
The blonde ducked a little to see the expected blush that dusted his cheekbones. Those golden eyes found his and they both smiled a bit despite themselves; maybe the raven was closer to understanding than he'd thought. It'd just take time.
Whether it was the letter boosting his mood or some unseen not-yet-understood force drawing the action, he couldn't help himself from ruffling those black curls a bit before leaving the kitchen. And when he did, he had to lean back up against the door to catch his breath.
"Master Oz?" he called for the hundredth time. Where was he...? He'd sent another servant requesting his presence, but he was not where she told him he'd be. He frowned; he hadn't seen his master since yesterday morning, and that was only a brief encounter. And suddenly he wanted to see him for some unknown reason. In fact, the whole mansion was quiet this morning. Why...?
The only other person he encountered was Sarah and she wouldn't tell him anything other than Oz's message. When he asked her if there were any plans for this weekend, she shut her mouth tight and fled down the hallway. And Sarah was normally rather talkative with him...
Ugh, it was hard to serve a master who was no-where to be found! And, well, he felt a little curious as to why Oz seemed to be avoiding him, which was an unfamiliar feeling that brought him great shame. He'd spent his entire life not missing anyone, not expecting anything in return for his service. He didn't need anything from Oz; he was the servant. It was enough just to serve him. But he couldn't shake the anxiety blooming from beneath his ribs. Maybe Oz was the type to favor him until he was bored, then move along.
No, Gilbert! He's busy and what he does or doesn't do concerning you is not your business!
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he continued on his search for Oz with some trepidation.
Oz bolted down the stairs as soon as he saw a carriage pull up the long driveway. Today was a good day; Alice was visiting after all. They hadn't seen each other in over a year. She lived in the slightly northern country of Germany in a mansion owned by the Baskerville family, and traveling was a long momentous occasion. Why she had decided to travel now, in the peak of winter, he did not know.
But he was excited all the same. See, the Baskervilles were a noble family with wealth on par with the Nightrays, the Vessalius', the Rainsworths, and the Barmas. And as a child, he saw her almost regularly, back when her mother was mourning her father's death. Eventually, overcome with grief, her mother decided to escape and explore new territory, dragging a reluctant Alice behind her. Her search eventually led them to Germany, where they settled down, and that was when he lost one of his only childhood friends.
But that would change soon.
He ran outside in a flurry and shooed her servants away, offering her his arm to escort her inside. He was surprised when she took it; she'd normally have clobbered him by now. Maybe it was because in her other arm, she held her cat Snowdrop, who had obviously grown from the kitten he'd met years ago. He recognized her by the vibrant white of her fur and the red ribbon around her neck.
The peace didn't last long.
"Ow! H-hey, Alice, what was that for?!" he cried, wiggling his now throbbing toes.
"Hmph," the girl said and stuck up her nose before letting herself into the house, "That was for not writing me."
Seeing her act like this was so nostalgic that he forgot to be angry. He followed after her as she entered the Vessalius mansion in a storm.
"Ah, sorry, but you didn't exactly write me much..."
But that was apparently the wrong thing to say because she sent a haughty glare over her shoulder. Even with her difficult attitude, he could never dislike her. She was a headstrong girl in appearance, but he knew she had a much more fragile side to her. She was one of the few who he felt comfortable smiling around, or rather smiling for. His honest smile that he sometimes feared was lost forever.
They passed Sarah on the way into the library, where the two of them often hung out as children.
"Sarah, would you please find Gilbert and tell him I have something to show him? Oh, and don't tell him about Alice. It's a surprise!" he instructed.
Alice frowned as they entered the sunlit room, filled with layers of shelves of dusty books. He himself was an avid reader, but often he'd find himself rereading his favorite series, The Holy Knight (on a shelf in his room for convenience reasons). The shelves of one bookshelf were relatively well-kept, but otherwise the room was rather unused. Alice told him once that she preferred it because she liked the smell, so ever since he considered it 'Alice's room.'
"Who is Gilbert?" she asked in her usual, demanding way. She must've dropped the subject of writing, always quick to forget. Or maybe she'd considered the jab to his foot a sufficient punishment.
"Just someone I want you to meet~," he teased. She bit her lip, obviously intrigued by this new development.
"Mm," she hummed, "I don't want to be in this room. Let's go to the parlor room. What are we eating tonight?"
Her attention span was clearly lacking. It only made him smile as he followed her farther down the hall. Just like old times, he thought fondly.
Rolling his eyes, he responded, "Meat as always, Alice."
When they reached the parlor room, she flopped down on the couch and rested her black and white boots on the coffee table. Snowdrop bounced off her lap only to mew and paw at his leg as he stepped in. Feeling lighter and happier than he had in a long time, he scooped her up and nuzzled her against his cheek.
Alice looked on grumpily, "Hey, Snowdrop's mine!"
But she couldn't hide the hint of a smile the scene brought her, even under her heavy glare.
"Oh, Snowdrop, how you've missed me~!" he teased. He twirled around, making Alice roll her eyes, but paused when he heard the distant call of his name.
"Master Oz?"
Heh, oops, they changed rooms but there was no way for Gilbert to know that. Popping his head out of the doorway, he called, "In here, Gilbert. And hurry, I have a surprise for you!"
He wondered what Alice would think of his new servant. Oh, the ways she could embarrass him... "This should be interesting," he said to Snowdrop, who stared back at him with wide eyes.
"Ah... master?"
Brightening, Oz smirked and held the white kitty out in front of his face toward Gilbert. Snowdrop was his first surprise. Maybe the Nightrays had a cat...?
"This is Snowdrop, she's... ah, Gilbert...?"
Lowering the cat to the floor, he blinked at the now empty space that used to inhabit the raven. Alice laughed heartily behind him, "Haa~! You should've seen his face. Psh, afraid of a cat? What is Snowdrop going to do, lick you?"
Oz sighed and scratched the back of his head. He had no idea Gilbert would be afraid of a cat, huh.
"I'll... be right back," he said, letting Snowdrop hop back up on the couch, but Alice was too busy giggling to hear.
He found him just outside in the hallway a little ways down. Bone white, he stood pressed against the wall as if attempting to blend into it.
"Ah... Gilbert?" he tried, and the raven flinched a little, but seeing no cat he seemed to calm down just a little. Oz stood in front of him and crossed his arms, admittedly a little amused; the way his servant was reacting to a mere cat was... well, it was almost cute. "Since when are you deathly afraid of cats?"
"I... I just don't like cats. Please don't laugh," he said, a little indignantly, as Oz chuckled, "Was that the surprise you wanted to show me, Master Oz?"
Oz focused on stifling his amusement for a moment, "Sorry, it's just... as soon as I think I know you, I find out something new. Is there anything else you're afraid of, Gilbert?"
Something flashed behind golden eyes for just a moment and he wondered what memories or horrors his question might've prompted, but then his eyes cleared and he responded, "I don't think so, Master Oz."
The noble stared for a moment longer, but decided not to ask about that moment of hesitation.
"Well then, come on, there's a second surprise," he said, already in the process of returning to the parlor. "And I promise it's not another cat," he teased.
Gilbert hesitantly returned to the room, wary of the cat that didn't seem to be around anymore. In it, instead, he saw Oz standing with a girl who looked to be about their age. She had long brown hair down past her waist and sharp purple eyes that seemed to stare into him judgingly.
"So this is that person, hm," she said, assessing him as one would a feast.
"Yes, uh, Gilbert, this is Alice. She's my fiance," he said, and Gilbert froze.