Author's Note: Hey guys, I'm glad you like Arthur's character. I hope you all don't hate me for what comes next. I debated about whether not I should do this, but I felt it was important to go through with it in the end. As always, please review once you're done.


When it Snows

By TheBlueSwan


Chapter 27: Her Town


Saturday October 30th 2004, 2004, Stars Hollow (Daisy Street) 10:35 a.m.

Lindsay walked down the street with her head held high. Beside her, her mother stopped in front of the beauty shop and opened the door for her. Primly, she entered the establishment, her hands tucked together in front of her, her features displaying a wounded sort of dignity which the blonde and her mother were both quite proud of.

It was as Lindsay had always thought.

As she and her mother went about town, their neighbours would avoid meeting their gaze. Some would even go as far as to turn around and head in the opposite direction simply to avoid meeting. And the Lister women knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that their neighbours were now thoroughly ashamed of their behavior and horrified of the actions they had taken against their family.

Mothers, with their heads bowed in shame, would quickly hurry their children by them. Gossip-mongers would avert their gaze and pretend to discuss some other matter whilst throwing discreet glances in their direction. Crowds would hush whenever they entered an establishment or a room and people would fidget awkwardly whenever they addressed them.

Such as now.

"Oh," Daisy Quinn exhaled, "Hello Mrs. Lister, Mrs. Lister-Forester," the girl laughed nervously, "What can I do for you."

"Hello dear," her mother answered politely, displaying her strength of character. For Daisy had been one of the misguided souls who had unjustly restrained her following her confrontation with Mrs. Forester, "I was wondering if you stocked any Lancôme skincare products."

Clearing her throat, Daisy kept her eyes trained to the cash register, "I'm sorry Mrs. Forester, but we don't carry that brand."

"Oh," her mother laughed, "Silly me, of course you don't. Such a small town beauty shop wouldn't hold such quality products. I do not know what I was thinking. I do apologise for wasting your time my dear. Lindsay and I will simply have to go into to Hartford to get what we need. Have a good day."

As the Lister women exit the shop, they share a triumphant look with one and other, convinced that their pristine reputation had been restored. They revelled in the belief that, once more, truth and justice had prevailed as it made its way through the Stars Hollow gossip vine.


Saturday October 30th 2004, 2004, Stars Hollow, 10:35 a.m.

And so, once more, because reality did not suit them, the Lister women convinced themselves that everything was proceeding as they believed it should, simply because they willed it to. If only they had been less conceited, less self-righteous, they might have realised that shame was not at the root of their neighbours aloofness, but rather disgust, anger and fear.

Too much had happened.

Too much ugliness of character had been revealed.

A town meeting had been called last Friday and the matter had been decided. The Listers would no longer be welcomed amongst their neighbours. Such violent, immoral individuals could not be allowed to take an active part in their quaint little town's society.

They were to be frozen out.


Sunday October 28th 2004, 2004, New Haven (Christopher's Apartment) 3:04 a.m.

He was trying to figure out a way to keep Gigi in her crib when he received the call.

Christopher should have known that he wouldn't have heard the end of it. But Sherry had left, and he was all too busy trying to figure out a way to deal with her to even give a thought to Rory – or the fight that had broken out amongst his family because of her. He'd tried calling Lorelai, to get her to help him. But the woman had steadily refused to answer his calls. If only Lorelai would answer, than maybe he could explain and she could stop being so spiteful.

But that was of little consequence at the moment.

He should have known it wouldn't be the end of it.

Straub Hayden had never been capable of withstanding contradiction. Rather than accepting that other might have a point of view different to his own, the man had always plowed forward, attempting to persuade, or even bully, others into conceding to his point of view.

His grandfather's utter dismissal of Straub's opinion on the Rory situation would have rubbed his father the wrong way.

He should have known that his father would never have just let things be.

As it was, in the tragedy of being left to raise a child on his own, the thought had entirely escaped Christopher's mind. And so it was that early that morning, his mother had called him to give him the news. Saturday evening, his father had gone to confront Arthur Hayden, to attempt to reason with the man. But, naturally, both of stubborn character and both believing themselves to be in the right, they had gotten into a fight. His grandfather had refused to bend to Straub's will. And his father, incensed at being so dismissed, refused to drop the matter. As things went on, the angrier they had both become – and the more agitated Arthur had become. His father, however, so focused on winning his argument, had failed to notice the signs.

It wasn't until Arthur Hayden suddenly paled and fell into a slump that his son realised that he had gone too far.

By then, however, it was much too late.

Arthur Hayden had died.


Sunday October 31st 2004, 2004, Stars Hollow (Town Square) 11:51 a.m.

This couldn't be happening.

How could this be happening?

What had she ever done to deserve this?

Rory wasn't vain, but she liked to think that she was a good person. So, being a good person, why would life be so cruel to her? Were the fates having a great big laugh at her expense? Whatever the reason, someone certainly seemed intent on kicking her whilst she was down.

How else could one explain her present situation?

All Rory had wanted to do that morning was visit the bookstore. Maybe even take in some of the Halloween festivities. There wouldn't be much until tonight, but Rory wanted to do what little she could before she left for Yale later that afternoon.

And Rory was bored.

Her mom was busy working at the Dragonfly and Lane was busy setting up for a gig tonight. Ordinarily, she would just drive back to Yale early and spend some time in the library, but that wasn't an option right now. Her car had broken down two weeks ago, and what had seemed like a minor problem had evolved into a bigger problem, and her car was still in the shop two weeks later. As a result, Marty had been dropping her off in Stars Hollow on his way home on the week-ends, and picking her up on his way back to Yale. But Marty wouldn't be in Stars Hollow before four that afternoon, and Rory needed to have something to occupy her mind before she went crazy.

And so, the bookstore had seemed like the best option.

Despite that, it had taken her forever to muster up the courage to risk the outing. At eighteen weeks, Rory's baby bump was becoming noticeably pronounced and she had had to get creative. Thus, the old reliable mou-mou had once more entered the scene. The voluminous knitted sweater did a great job at hiding her condition. Swathed in its folds, one couldn't even notice the tell-tale rounding of her stomach. At most, one might venture to suggest that she had gained weight, but even that was highly unlikely, as the sweater rendered her shapeless.

She had just reached the town square when it had happened, and Rory froze where she stood.

There, just a few feet away from her, stood Dean Forester was walking into Luke's. Thankfully, he seemed too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice her gawking at him through the window. He looked worried and worn, but he was still as striking as he ever was. His hair was shorter than it had been the last time she saw him, and it curled slightly at the edges, sending a shudder of desire down Rory's spine.

In that moment, all she wanted to do was to kiss him. But had happened to change her situation for the better – only for the worst. Dean was still married to Lindsay, only now, she was also pregnant. And the pain of that knowledge, which she had buried deep within her for the past week, resurfaced with a vengeance. Her heart aching, eyes and lungs burning, Rory turned and quickly made her way back home, unwilling to allow her neighbours and friends to see her crying.

Reaching her childhood home, Rory swiftly closed the door and promptly slid to the floor. Lying there, she cried for well over an hour before she had calmed herself enough to think properly.

Dean was still married.

His wife was pregnant and so was she.

She was so afraid of what people would say, that she had spent the better part of a month avoiding people she loved just to put off the inevitable. For it was inevitable, people would eventually find out that she was pregnant and nothing would change that. Just as, sooner or later, people would know that she had had sex with Dean while he was married to Lindsay. Although Rory had done a fairly good job at ignoring it, Rory knew that she would have to tell Dean about the baby before she actually had it. And although she wouldn't do it now, nor so soon after he had learned his wife was pregnant, she couldn't avoid the reality of her situation for much longer

It was then, lying broken on the dirty floor that Rory decided that she wouldn't hide anymore. Stars Hollow was her town and it was time she became a part of it once more.


Tuesday November 2nd 2004, 2004, Brookshire (Elvenstone Estate) 10:43 a.m.

Francine Hayden stared, utterly gobsmacked, at the executor of Arthur Hayden's estate, "Is that all?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes," Henry Phillips nodded his head, "As I stated before. Mr. Hayden left specific instructions in his will. Your son, Christopher, is to receive fifty million upon the execution of his will. You and your husband are to receive twenty-five million."

"But," Shannon spluttered, "What of his estates? His bonds? His investments? Not to mention the majority of his wealth? The man was a billionaire, for heaven's sake! Where did all that money go?"

"Well," Mr. Phillips, the executor, shuffled some papers for a moment, "Your father-in-law left fifty million to various charities. As for the rest, the majority of it was willed to his great-granddaughter."

Francine frowned, "He left it all to Gigi?"

Beside her, Christopher startled at the information. He shared an astonished look with his mother, excited at the prospect. Francine, however, sneered at the knowledge. She had waited nearly forty years for that inheritance, and to know that she had been passed over in favor of her granddaughter soured the love she had for the child.

"No," Mr. Phillips stated, shaking his head, "Miss. Georgia Hayden was willed five hundred million, which is to be placed into a trust until her twenty-fifth birthday."

Francine shrieked, "What? But you just told us that the old goat had left almost everything to his great-granddaughter!"

"Yes," the man smiled, "his eldest great-granddaughter – one Lorelai Leigh Rory Gilmore."

Francine let out a horrified shriek, "But this can't be," she wailed. Desperately, she turned towards her husband and snarled, "Straub, do something! You can't allow our inheritance to fall into the hands of that – that – bastard."

Much too shocked at what had just been revealed, and suffering under some resentment, Christopher ignored his mother's insult. Instead, pale-faced and incredulous, he asked, "Rory? Grandpa left everything to Rory?" Christopher frowned, "But he's never even met her."

Francine, for her part, let out a frustrated wail, "Straub!"

Her moans, however, had little effect. For, in his father's death, Straub had seen himself as he truly was for the first time in years. How could he not, when his own father had looked on him last, not with pride and joy, but with anger and disgust.

He had been, in the eyes of his father, a dishonourable lout. Blight upon the Hayden family. But most of all, Straub now fully comprehended that, in those last moments of life, his father had seen him as an utter disappointment.

The news that his father had seen fit to disinherit him in favor of the granddaughter he had never acknowledged, only served to reinforce that particular realization. And so he sat, face ashen, staring listlessly before him, his pride and ambition drained.

"I apologise Mrs. Hayden," Mr. Phillips smiled tightly, an edge of steel now present in his tone, "But Arthur Hayden was quite clear in his final wishes. And, knowing his wishes would undoubtedly contradict yours, the man saw to it that no one could challenge his will. You, your son and youngest granddaughter shall receive the funds I have listed, but everything else, save what was left for charity and what was willed to Lorelai Victoria Gilmore, shall go to Rory Gilmore."

Distressed, Francine looked about, searching in vain for some glimmer of hope. Seeing her apathetic husband and bewildered son would not be of use, Francine set her mind on finding a mean of re-appropriating the funds, "But this can't be," she muttered beneath her breath, "it can't," she angrily slammed her fist against the table. It was then, that quite suddenly, the woman stilled as a thought crossed her mind, "But the girl is no more than eighteen years old. Surely Arthur would not have allowed such a young woman unrestricted access to such a large sum."

"He did not," Mr. Phillips sighed, "Mr. Hayden willed his great-granddaughter a sum of five hundred millions, to be made accessible to her upon the execution of his will. The property, the investments and the remaining funds are to be all to be placed in trust until her twenty-fifth birthday. The yearly interest will, however, be made available to her. This task, in addition to the overall management of the estate, shall fall under the purview of two trustees."

Letting out a relieved sigh, Francine put her hand to her heart. If they still had control of the funds, surely they would be able to find a way to legally transfer the inheritance into their names before the girl turned twenty-five? Taking a deep breath, Francine felt hopeful, "So Straub and I shall be in-charge of overseeing the matter," the woman smiled beatifically and nodded, "You can trust that we shall see to it that the funds are not wasted."

The calculating gleam in her eyes, however, left Mr. Phillips in no doubt, that even now, the woman was plotting to see the funds swiftly removed from the trust and placed into her own pockets.

"Mrs. Hayden," the man smiled patronizingly, "It seems you have misunderstood. Yes, your father-in-law chose two trustees to manage the estate. However, neither you nor your husband was named."

"Then," Francine frowned, glancing at her son.

Even as Christopher Hayden jumped at attention, an odd mixture of pride, displeasure and greed displayed on his features, Mr. Phillips sought to put this line of questionning at an end, "Arthur Hayden's last will and testament clearly states that Lorelai Victoria Gilmore and Richard Gilmore are to act as joint trustees of Miss. Gilmore's estate. I am afraid that your son, just as you, has no hold upon the estate whatsoever."


Tuesday November 2nd 2004, 2004, Stars Hollow, 10:45 a.m.

There was a new rumor going around in town.

No one really knew where it had come from. Some supposed that the Gossip Queens of Stars Hollow had put their collective hats together and leaked their outrageous suppositions to the general public. Babette, after all, did have an overly rampant imagination and was prone to be persuaded into doing the silliest of things. Just as Miss. Patty had a flair for the dramatic and would often discard the truth in favor of something far juicier.

In any event, no one really cared how the rumor came about. All the good people of Stars Hollow really cared about was the fact that, for two weeks in a row now, some strange young man had been escorting their beloved Rory back and forth between Stars Hollow and Yale.

When Babette had reported the incident two weeks ago, no one had made much of it at first. Although there had been a general curiosity as to who this mysterious boy might be, it had been greatly tempered by all the drama happening between the Forester and Lister families. Why wonder about the identity of some boy, no matter his connection to the most loved young girl in town, when there was much juicier news going about town?

But then the incident had happened a second time.

Their interests had been peaked.

Could it be?

Could Rory Gilmore have a new boyfriend?


Tuesday November 2nd 2004, 2004, Brookshire (Elvenstone Estate) 10:58 a.m.

Francine Hayden seethed as she exited the drawing room. To say that the reading of the will had not gone to her expectations would be to say the least. Why, the entire thing had been a disaster, from start to finish!

Oh, the very thought of it all was repugnant.

Her inheritance, to be squandered on that bastard girl!

The thought was utterly inconceivable.

Francine wouldn't stand for it.

She would have the matter settled in the only way available.

Turning on her son with sharp, shrewd eyes, Francine demanded, "Tomorrow, you will go to that girl."

Eyes widening, a small glimmer of hope lit in Christopher's eyes, "Does this mean that you –"

"I will have our lawyer draw up some papers," Francine continued, paying her son no attention whatsoever.

"Papers?" Christopher echoed, frowning in confusion.

"You will do whatever it is you need to do to get that girl to sign them. Your grandfather might have made it impossible for us to challenge the will. However, I doubt anyone will object if the girl were to deny the inheritance and turn everything back over to us."

Christopher's face paled at his mother's scheme, looking for all the world as a little boy loss in the great, big, wilderness.

Even Straub, who had reacted to hardly anything since his father's death, appeared shaken by his wife's demands. He looked upon the woman, frowning in dissatisfaction. He, like his father before him, now gleaned an important facet of his wife's character which he had never noted before. And just as Arthur Hayden had been, Straub was both repelled and made weary by it.

Snarling, Christopher rebelled at the notion, "You can't really believe that I would do that to –"

"Oh, honestly Christopher," Francine cut the boy off, waving her hand dismissively. With a dissatisfied sniff, she looked down upon her son, "Would you, for once, use your head."

"She's my daughter," Christopher hissed defensively.

"She is a girl you sired out of wedlock when you were sixteen," Francine insisted, "and now, she is to inherit everything which ought to have been yours. Think about it Christopher, do you really want that? Giving her a bit of money to help her out is one thing, but to concede your inheritance to her? The girl would waste it, no matter what you say. And what of Gigi? What of yourself? Your wife just left you son. That inheritance could have helped you a great deal."

"Grandad left me fifty million, mom. I think I'll be fine with that," Christopher said stubbornly, but Straub could tell that his wife was wearing him down.

"Like you were fine last time," Francine needled, reminding her son of his wasted trust fund. She looked at him pleadingly, "Oh, my dear boy. You have had such a hard time of it as of late. You deserve to have an easier life than you have been dealt. You should not have to worry about such things. You deserve your inheritance."

Christopher shook his head in denial, but his determination was holding on by a thread.

Seeing this, Francine smiled and cut the final thread, "If you truly want to, you can see to it that Rory is well taken care of yourself," she placated him, "but first, you have to see to it that she signs everything over to us."

Christopher remained quiet for several long moments. Swallowing the bile in his throat, he finally agreed to his mother's demands. It was for the best, he convinced himself, they all deserved a larger share that they had been given. And Rory wouldn't mind – he would see to it that she would be well cared for in the end.

Left off to the side, Straub Hayden turned his gaze to the floor, mute.

He wondered, was this how my father has felt for the past two decades?


Wednesday November 3rd 2004, Stars Hollow (Lister Residence) 9:29 a.m.

It had been a long and tiring week for Michel Lister.

His unlawful arrest, followed by the mortifying experience of actually having to post bail had taken quite a lot of him. However, due to the obvious incompetence of Mr. Gibson, Reginald Lister had been unable to rest. He had needed to find a new lawyer, a better lawyer – and quickly. This gross miscarriage of justice could not be allowed to stand for a single moment longer.

And so, Reginald had searched and searched, before finally settling on a bright young lawyer by the name of Brent Miller. His fee was steep, but it would be worth every penny to see the Foresters receive their just due. Of course, due to the fact that he had to pay such an exorbitant amount for he and his daughter to post bail, he was a tad strapped for cash.

As a result he had needed to dip into funds he would have preferred to leave untouched for some years more…

Still, the Foresters had sought out a fight with him, and Reginald would not disappoint them.

He would see them suffer for their sins.


Posted December 19th 2017