Chapter 11: Plans and Family History
"So what's the plan, Boss?"
Despite the fact that he looked like shit, dead on his feet and still wearing last night's uniform, Squalo nevertheless managed to slip into the more business-like tones he used when laying down plans at the Varia. As their Strategy Commander, this was something he did fairly often – and today it gave him an air of put-togetherness he probably didn't feel.
Still.
It was an illusion of normalcy that made it easier to set the baggage aside and consider their situation properly. It didn't matter that the façade was paper thin, that there was nothing normal about this at all. The fact that Squalo was cradling a cup of coffee from the coffee shop around the corner, he and Mammon leaning against each other comfortably, went unremarked. So did Bel's sitting on the windowsill of their hotel room, twirling a curved blade with practiced ease, while Levi and Lussuria sat on either side of their Sky, each of them more open with their thoughts and emotions than they could have allowed themselves to be at the castle.
His Guardians each felt tired, but at the same time their Flames sang with bloodlust and anger, bleeding it into every corner of their surroundings.
No, there was nothing normal about this morning – but Xanxus didn't mind. Being surrounded by the Flames of his Bonded felt restful.
Felt right.
Besides, why not? It was just the six of them right now, so they didn't have to be his Officers or subordinates… they were free to only be his Bonded. That meant transparency, and his Guardians were definitely letting him know exactly how they felt:
Right now, Xanxus was the only thing standing between them and a scorched earth policy.
He entertained the thought for a moment, but shot it down eventually. That wasn't who Xanxus was – he couldn't just cut his losses and watch the Family burn. He still cared about the Vongola.
Even if it didn't give a shit about him.
… Fucking ouch. Way to go – rubbing salt into an open wound. But if last night had proved anything then it was this – that Nono didn't care. That he would have Xanxus be Sawada's lapdog, regardless of what he thought about it.
Didn't matter that he'd said it since the beginning. That he'd been vocal along every fucking step of the way. That he didn't support Sawada Tsunayoshi as Decimo. Hadn't in those memories of the future that never was, and still didn't – even now.
But here Nono was, treating Xanxus with the same condescension he had been met with his whole life. Like his fucking stance on all of this bullshit would just blow over eventually. Like it didn't matter. Or did he really think that Xanxus would just bow his head and accept Sawada eventually, even if he didn't agree with his appointment as Decimo?
This thought pissed him off worse than words could describe. When had Xanxus ever bowed his head and just taken anything? Shouldn't Don Vongola know better by now?
Clearly, Xanxus had been holding him in too high a regard.
After all that, what little sleep they'd gotten last night had not been restful. Xanxus, though he had somehow managed to sleep through the night, didn't feel like he'd closed his eyes at all. He felt more tired now than he had before falling asleep… and that wasn't even mentioning the hangover yet.
Because yeah, he had a fucking hangover.
Of course he did. That's what he got for drinking his fucking weight in liquor.
He should probably count himself lucky that Wrath Flames burned through alcohol as quickly and efficiently as they did anyway, or else he'd be in a hospital right now. Not a hotel room.
Fuck.
Fuck.
What a mess.
He felt so stupidly, pathetically grateful to his Guardians for having had the foresight not to drive him back to the castle last night, he almost hated himself for it: he didn't want anyone else seeing him like this – least of all their fellow Varia…
But Squalo was right… hating and pitying himself was going to get them nowhere. It was time to start actually doing something. Fran had already returned to the Varia last night and was keeping an eye on things there, which meant that they could get away with delaying their return by a few more hours.
As for the plan… the answer to that question was obvious.
"I'm going to retire."
"Then we all retire with you."
Lussuria's tone of voice was final, leaving no room for arguments. Not that Xanxus was planning to argue – or that any of his Sun's fellow Guardians seemed inclined to, either. Still… six out of seven leading positions in the Varia being emptied all at once would cause an upheaval, so they'd have to make sure replacements were in place well before they left.
Competent replacements, who had had the time to adjust to their new duties… and each other. His Guardians' thoughts seemed to be following a similar thread, because Levi suddenly asked-
"How long do we have, anyway? The baby's due in September. That gives us – what… five months?"
"Longer than that." Bel said confidently, then tilted his head to look at Xanxus, "The Prince assumes Boss would like to retire before Sawada becomes Decimo…?"
Xanxus grunted in agreement. It would be better for the Vongola as a whole if they were to retire quietly, before the new Don took over, rather than waiting and doing it after. That would be making a statement, which would cause much more trouble than it was worth, honestly.
"Voi, we've got at a year then. They'll want to make sure the baby is healthy – not to mention, a Sky – before they even think of retiring."
"Vongola laws dictate that only a Sky of Vongola blood can inherit the Family." Lussuria agreed mildly. "They probably already know the baby's Flames by now though – you can usually tell early on because it has effects on the mother's Flames. Besides, they wouldn't have made such a spectacle of themselves over an Heir that can't even inherit, right? What's the point?"
True.
Iemitsu had been unbearably smug all throughout the evening, which was practically a confirmation anyway.
As for the deadline…
"We've probably got a little longer than a year… the procedure took ages when Enrico was still Heir, and he was born Mafia."
Bel hummed in agreement, snickering, "The peasants will have to be prepared to take over their predecessors' office duties before they're left to sink – they've pretty much just been doing field work up until recently."
Never mind their errant Cloud, who didn't give a shit about the Vongola and was extremely unlikely to be convinced to make the full move to Italy. Sawada wouldn't insist either. Meant that he couldn't take over Visconti's duties though, so there'd be some shuffling around to accommodate that while they tried to find something else for him to do at a distance.
Nono would also want to give the Alliance and wider Mafia the time to get accustomed to having Sawada actually be in charge… as opposed to just attending events and socialising at them. The two were very different.
"So how long do you think we have, Boss?"
Xanxus shrugged, "About a year and a half? If they rush."
"That's doable," Mammon muttered, "I think I'll have a look around next week and see what's for sale, since we all live at the Varia right now. We should compare prices."
No one objected to Mammon's insinuation that they would all be staying together as well, so Xanxus didn't address it either.
There were a few options there, but they'd have to take their time and explore them all at their leisure.
For now, the future of the Varia took precedence.
…
Vor had been a Varia assassin for something over a year now.
Sure, that wasn't much in the grand scheme of things, but still – he knew something had gone wrong the moment Fran alone returned from Don Vongola's birthday party on Friday night, Boss and the Officers nowhere to be seen.
He was right: no explanation was given that night, but Fran had remained nominally in charge of them until Saturday afternoon… which was way after Mammon's squad had already returned from their mission and spilled the beans anyway. Although their contract prohibited them from talking about the mission, there was nowhere any rule that stated other assassins couldn't stand close by and read their mission reports over their shoulder as they wrote them. Add on to that the various assassins with Mafia connections receiving phone calls from home that night and the next morning… and general knowledge of exactly what had happened at the party had spread out over the whole Varia before Boss and the Officers even returned.
As soon as they did, Boss called together a meeting. From what Vor understood, Things had been discussed. Vor did not know what Things had been discussed – but he knew they had been Things with a capital T.
He also knew that there had been a Cloud at the meeting. That was funny - he hadn't even known they had a Cloud Officer. Wasn't that why Princess Hel was sleeping in the Cloud Suite? When he asked a Cloud about it during dinner, they shook their head.
"That's Huginn – he's Head of Intelligence Division, not Cloud Officer… but someone has to do the paperwork, right?"
"Huh…" Botis - sitting next to him - muttered under his breath, "Always wondered where your guys' paperwork went to, to be honest."
The conversation continued, but Vor only followed it with half an ear. They weren't the only ones hanging around and talking amongst themselves today, because fearsome assassins or not, the Varia were never above gossiping.
The best way to pick it all up was to spend a day loitering around the dining hall, and listen.
So far, Vor had learned this:
The future Decimo's wife was pregnant.
That wasn't exactly good news for them, as Nono was likely to retire at some point after the baby was born and new management might mean a number of things for the Varia. Good or bad, but that would all depend on how things played out so the future was uncertain.
In any case, a number of Varia were thinking of retiring outright. Most of those were older assassins, who'd been around for at least one generation or longer, and had personal grievances and reason not to support Nono's Heir. Others were just loyal to Boss first, and the Vongola second – or had been planning on retiring soon anyway, so decided this would be a good opportunity to do just that.
On the other hand, many of the newer assassins were planning on playing it by ear. Vor was one of those people. He liked the Varia, and less assassins would mean more work opportunities for those who chose to stay behind… but. Even so. He wasn't planning on sinking with the Vongola if that was where this ship was headed.
Which was what some people were saying.
As for Boss, the general consensus there seemed to be that he would be retiring and taking his Officers with him. That meant new Officers would have to be found, and many Varia were starting to wonder who those replacements might be…
Vor hadn't been around for long enough to make his own educated guesses there, so he preferred to leave that to the Varia's older and more experienced assassins.
Either way, one thing was for sure:
Change was underfoot.
Maybe that was why, when the Storm Officer summoned him to his office a few days later, Vor had the slightly ominous feeling he wouldn't be asked to babysit today…
…
'Eventful' didn't even begin to describe the week Dino had just been through. 'Hectic' came somewhat closer, and 'tiring' was definitely apt – but if he had to go for just one word out of a thousand to describe this week, that word would definitely have to be…
Demanding.
Thought-provoking also came to mind.
Although that was… technically, two words.
Either way – last week had definitely been that.
The morning after Don Vongola's birthday party, Dino had been woken up by the Visconti Don paying him an unexpected visit early in the morning. He hadn't even been the last to do so; in fact, between himself and Gemma, they'd been contacted by pretty much every Family in the Alliance. And that was just by Wednesday.
By Friday various rumours had spread outside the Alliance as well, generating even more gossip and concerned allies to keep up with, while Saturday he had spent with his little brother and his wife – who was now on strict orders from Don Vongola to withdraw from social life until after the baby was born, as Vongola tradition dictated – to offer his congratulations once more and chat a little more freely.
He was happy for the couple – he was, really – it just was a shame the circumstances surrounding the announcement couldn't have been… better.
As it was, nobody had failed to notice Xanxus's displeasure at being invited to Don Vongola's birthday party, nor him storming off after the announcement. As the Alliance Don with the most connection to the Varia, Dino had been on the receiving end of many such concerns. Dino was also concerned – if not for the same reasons many of his fellow mafiosi seemed to be. His connection to the Varia was mostly owed to his long-standing friendship with Squalo, but he'd known Xanxus for long enough to know he probably wouldn't be burning the Vongola to the ground in retaliation – no matter how cathartic that option might seem.
For all his faults, Xanxus did care about the Vongola.
Cared too deeply, in Dino's blunt opinion – but it was a good thing for all of them that he did anyway.
Even so… he would never serve under Tsuna. He didn't support the Vongola Heir as Decimo, and Dino didn't think he'd just throw aside his beliefs and do as he was told. Question was – what would he do once Nono retired?
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Blinking, Dino looked up at Gemma –
His beautiful, amazing wife was standing next to him, holding two mugs in her hands – the cheesy matching pair she'd bought as a joke when they'd first started dating, which he not-so-secretly loved despite their cheesiness anyway – and offered him one.
"Sorry – I've been distracted… is that hot chocolate I smell?
"Mhmm. You looked really worried, so I figured I might make some more."
"Thanks."
"So, what's on your mind?"
Gemma sat down in the chair next to his at the table, while Dino rubbed his fingers over the faded pattern on his mug absent-mindedly, drinking a little before replying:
"Work things. You know how - years ago, we all thought Xanxus was Don Vongola's son? By blood, I mean?"
"Of course. How could I forget? Everyone in the Alliance was shocked – especially since so many of us had been in favour of him inheriting."
Yes, Xanxus had had a pretty substantial number of supporters within the Alliance, even after the Cradle Affair.
He had experience in leadership, and was known to ruthlessly protect his own.
He was brilliant at politics, despite the fact that he didn't particularly enjoy them.
Plus. Mafia-raised.
That was an important one.
"Caro? Where are you going with this?"
"I don't know – nowhere, I think. I just remembered something Squalo told me once. It was just after I'd found out Xanxus was adopted, and he asked me… he asked me if I thought that it would stop him. I guess it'd stop any sane person. But he said: Of course he won't give up! His fury will burn even hotter and he'll smash that law into pieces!"
"That does sound like Squalo." Gemma said eventually, setting her mug down to eye him carefully. "You don't want that getting back to Don Vongola though."
No, definitely not.
That would be a big mistake.
It didn't sound like Xanxus was after the position of Decimo right now, anyway – more like he was just done with having the Vongola fuck him over every time it needed a convenient scapegoat. It was much more likely that he was going to leave it altogether, so Dino shouldn't even be considering it.
But he was Don Cavallone first, so Dino tucked the thought away to peck at later anyway.
It was unlikely. But… just in case.
"I should call Squalo soon." He decided, "See what the Varia's been up to."
…
"Princess?"
When Nante peered into the library, knocking lightly on the open door, Hel had already been sitting there for hours.
With three different books opened up in front of her, she had been too engrossed in her note-taking to notice his approach.
She didn't jump though, because princesses didn't get startled.
They didn't squeak and nearly fall out of their chairs either, so it was a good thing nothing like that had happened. A glare in Nante's direction promptly turned his chuckles into a series of coughs, her tutor schooling his expression into something less amused and more composed as he folded his hands behind his back.
Good.
Hel lifted her chin proudly and used this as an excuse to steal a glance at the time. No, it wasn't time for the lesson yet – still half an hour to go. So what was Nante doing here?
"There's been a change of plans, Princess – I've come to inform you that my cousin will be in charge of your history lesson today. He said to meet him in his office when you're ready."
"Papa…?" Hel wondered out loud, "Oh, alright. Thank you."
What could that be about?
She waited until Nante had left the room to return her gaze to her books again. Never mind, she'd find out soon enough anyway. For now, she could fit in another fifteen minutes of note-taking before she had to leave the library.
…
A fire was burning inside the Storm Office. Picking up a pinch of powder from the bowl on the mantle, Papa tossed it into the fireplace. The flames rose up – turning green in an instant. Hel watched this all curiously.
"Where are we going?" She asked, closing the door behind her.
"To meet some of your ancestors. Well…" Papa turned around and grinned at her, "What's left of them, anyway. Leave your books here – none of anything you'll learn today belongs in any of your notebooks."
Could it be – a secret?
Was that why Nante wasn't here?
Hel dropped her book-bag by her father's desk and not much later she was stepping out of the fireplace and into a grand, high-ceilinged room on the outskirts of the Red Kingdom.
The royal family's Burgundy Castle was a small chateau standing squarely and proudly in what was essentially the middle of nowhere… there was nothing but trees to be seen beyond the sprawling gardens, and the inside had an eerie feel to it – meticulously clean, Hel observed, but definitely not lived in.
"And who might you be?"
Turning around, Hel's eyes fell on the portrait of a woman. Hers wasn't the only one in the room, but it was one of the only portraits that still seemed to be occupied. Many inhabitants seemed to have left their frames for other pictures and of the ones that still remained, a good handful was asleep or at least pretending to be.
Wandering a bit closer, Hel read the silver plaque under the portrait.
Wilhelmina
1693-1801
"I am Hel."
"Hel?" Wilhelmina scowled, "That's a strange name, isn't it?"
"Don't be such a hag, Mina. I think it's a lovely name – powerful."
The portrait hanging opposite of Wilhelmina's had spoken. A stout witch dressed in blue, whose plaque read: Adalicia, with a birth date in 1919 and a death date the year before Hel was born.
"Yes, you would." Wilhelmina said derisively, but Hel had lost interest in her. Looking around the room, she found several more names and dates she recognised from her lessons with Nante – they were all the names of Queen Consorts and Prince Consorts of the Red Kingdom, dating all the way back to Basileia, who had been wife to the King when the tradition of naming Red Kingdom royals after angels first started, some three centuries previously.
She eventually circled back to Adalicia just as the fire turned green again and Papa joined her.
"You're my great-grandmother." She said, which seemed to delight the Queen.
"Am I? Well, it's certainly a pleasure to meet you, Princess." Then, turning to look at Papa, she raised her chin and gave him an expectant look, "Still giving your grandfather a hard time, I assume?"
"Ushishi~ always!"
"That's my boy." Queen Adalicia grinned, "Run along now – I don't imagine your daughter would find it very interesting to listen to you talk to an old woman like me."
Hel's father nudged her, and she followed him out of the room.
…
The portrait of Prince Eremiel and his wife Venera – Hel's grandparents, whose castle this had been – hung at the head of the grand staircase.
Beneath it, Papa let her in on a family secret she was finally old enough to know about:
He told her about the massacre, but more importantly, he told her about everything that had followed. How King Rasiel had blamed his son's death on a political rival, and how he'd hidden from the world the fact that Uncle Rasiel had survived.
After finding out his brother wasn't as dead as he'd originally thought he was, Papa had taken some time off to hunt down and kill Hel's uncle before Uncle Rasiel could do it first. This was how Papa had become Crown Prince.
Even to this day, few people knew that this was what had really happened. As far as anyone outside their closest family was concerned, he'd survived the massacre and gone missing in the aftermath. This had apparently lead to a number of people trying to impersonate him over the years but Uncle Rasiel had killed them all, and he'd eventually resurfaced in Sicily, where he'd been 'studying abroad' ever since.
No one knew anything about the Varia, or about Papa being an assassin.
This was all relevant because it had turned out that they would be leaving the Varia sooner rather than later: after Don Vongola's birthday party, Xanxus had decided he was going to retire, which meant that the Officers would also be leaving with him. Depending on how things went, there was a slim chance they might be fleeing to the Red Kingdom, but that wasn't a given yet.
Just a possibility.
This gave Hel some things to think about, and it was on the way back home that she remembered something else. The question about her wand, and what had happened on her birthday.
"The wand I got from Princess Cassiel, it belonged to Queen Adalicia, didn't it? It looked like Great-Grandaunt Jophiel didn't approve of me having it. Why was that?"
"Oh, that?" Papa reached up to straighten his crown, "It had nothing to do with you. My grandparents just didn't get along particularly well. Your great-grandfather would probably hate the idea you might grow up to be anything like her, actually – which is exactly why my aunt gave you that wand, anyway."
"Well, I liked meeting Queen Adalicia. Do you think Great-Aunt Cassiel would tell me more about her if I asked her to?"
"Ushishi~ for sure."
…
"How about Mafia Land?"
"Out of the question." Mammon shot it down immediately, "The prices there are unacceptable."
"We could try the Red Kingdom… but the Prince looked into it, and it would require permission from the King and council. Which really just means convincing the King twice, and he's not fond of you – it would be much less of a hassle to just wait until the Prince is King, so that might be a good Plan B."
"Why don't we stay locally, voi? Can't magic make us hard to find or some shit?"
"That would definitely mean less expenses." Mammon agreed, "Boss, what do you say?"
Xanxus glanced at Bel, "Is it possible?"
"If we get someone with a wand to assist us, the Prince doesn't see why not."
"Let's keep that in mind." Boss decided, "Besides. Would be funny to be able to look out the window and watch Don Vongola and the External Advisor running around like headless chickens trying to find us."
Bel's snickers turned into laughter while the rest chuckled or smirked.
Such conversations during their downtime became increasingly common over the next few weeks, while work also continued as usual. Which wasn't actually Bel's regular brand of 'usual' because he had an Apprentice now.
That meant his workload was significantly increased, because on top of his regular duties and missions, he also had to make time to mentor Vor, train him, and check in on his progress. Later, he would also have to talk him through the paperwork and duties that specifically came with being an Officer – but it was still a few months too early to be considering that, so Bel was just focusing on the training for the time being.
Truth be told, Vor hadn't been the Prince's first choice for Storm Officer.
That had been Eris, and later Tigre – but the latter was retiring and Bel suspected Boss was considering Eir as his successor, so Eris as Storm Officer really wouldn't do because they didn't get along at all. Although the ability to work with each other was a quality all Varia were expected to possess, Officers worked together a lot more closely and often than regular assassins did, which made it important for them to at least like each other somewhat. It made things much easier in the long run.
In any case, Vor was steadily improving, so he included that in his report to Xanxus before sending it off.
Come the new year, he'd be able to start delegating a lot more, which would mean more free time and opportunities to take some time off. At least some of that would have to be used for house hunting and to make arrangements for their upcoming move… but he was sure he could fit in another trip with Hel somewhere.
Maybe a slightly longer one to Japan?
Hel had expressed an interest while Haru and Takeshi had been over for a visit, and it had been way too long since Bel had dined at Takesushi…
…
Another Horcrux-banishing ritual took place at the height of summer.
This time, Bel had his daughter watching from the side-lines - so she could learn. There was nothing particularly notable about the ritual itself, and just like the ones before it, it was all over in a matter of minutes.
This left them with another empty shell to investigate, which in the end and with some help from Lady, turned out to be the lost diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw.
Just like that, they had finally stumbled across a pattern.
Because, clearly, Riddle had had delusions of grandeur.
Mammon's theory that the peasant's remaining Horcruxes might also be items belonging to Hogwarts founders was definitely worth looking into... maybe they would get lucky and stumble across another historically significant possession that had mysteriously gone missing over time..?
Riddle definitely seemed to have a thing for those.
…
Marco Dellucci was a man who had appeared suddenly.
As far as anyone knew, it all began in May. Dellucci took up residence in a small flat close to Catania, and by mid-summer he had joined Princess Jophiel's household as a servant. The manner in which this had all happened really ought to strike one as lucky – as extremely, suspiciously, tellingly lucky.
But of course, Princess Jophiel did not hire her own servants.
Never had and never would, as she was of the firm belief that a Royal Highness ought not to be bothered by such trivialities.
Then again, Marco Dellucci was not a servant, and spies were a whole different matter altogether… Jophiel's butler had been suspicious the moment he came to his senses and had informed her of his concerns immediately.
It did sound way too much like liquid luck for comfort, and so with her butler keeping a close eye on Dellucci afterwards, it hadn't taken Jophiel long to get her hands on proof of his guilt.
Letters.
Incoming and outgoing.
… To and from Albus Dumbledore, of all people!
This perplexed Jophiel, bothered her more than the fact that there was a spy in her household:
Why on Earth was that meddlesome old codger sticking his nose into Red Kingdom business?
What right did he have to send a spy into her household? The sister to a King – daughter of Raphael II and granddaughter of Haniel?
And what did Albus Dumbledore want with Asriel's daughter, anyway?
None of it was any of his business!
Even if the circumstances there were a little suspicious.
It made her wonder: did it have something to do with the thing her brother was still hiding from her – dancing around the subject of the Princess's parentage every time she brought it up, trying to wheedle information out of him…?
Of course, Jophiel was already as good as certain that Princess Hel had been born out of wedlock – she could not think of a more unbecoming secret to be keeping, and it would be entirely like her great-nephew to do such a thing, consequences be damned. He wasn't even the first royal to sire bastards, and it wasn't like it mattered. Asriel claiming her as his own made Hel his Heir until or unless he got married and had a legitimate child, as per the laws of their Kingdom – but none of that should have anything to do with Dumbledore, anyway!
He didn't have any children, or nieces, or nephews. He couldn't be related to her, even if the Princess's mother had been from around there. Other than that he was just the headmaster of some school – influential, to be sure, but entirely unimportant by birth.
So what did he want with their Princess?
She was missing something. She knew she was – she was missing something big and important. But what?
Did Dumbledore know about it? It was the only thing she could think of.
No, it didn't matter, Jophiel told herself another moment later, pulling a cigarette out of her purse and lighting it with a flick of her wand.
She had plenty of free time, and many more owls to intercept.
A/N: Jophiel is fun to write.
Thanks for reading, as always! Please leave a review and let me know what you thought of this chapter, I'll see you all again next time!