The grandest part of the mansion the Everglots have to offer, is the peace their private gardens provide. Exotic plants acquired from the finest of Europe and Eurasia, a secret path that leads to the newly erected greenhouse with state-of-the-art pillarless design, and the crowning jewel of a marble pedestal - engraved with the family emblem in silver lining - in the very center of the garden. Rows of vines crawling from the freshly watered grass below, wrapping the pedestal with careful patterns; the surface filled to the brim with trimmed ruby red roses surrounded by a delicate wreath of blue baby's-breath flowers.
Only a select few eyes are allowed to witness the gardens. A carefully selected set of gardeners, a handful of extra workers, and only the most elite of the Everglots themselves. Hell, even creatures that don't contribute to the ecosystem within the gardens are strictly forbidden. It's the secrecy that ups the value, and it's what keeps the current family apart from the mediocre rest.
"I think Scraps is finally getting it," Victoria Everglot, the youngest lady of the house proudly says. She holds an arm back gripping the ball on her palm, and throws to let it fly. The ball whizzes through the garden and lands with a thud. Scraps yips as he follows the ball trotting with his tiny legs before halting to yawn and sit on a patch of grass. "Perhaps not." Victoria sighs, putting a hand on her cocked hips. She ponders for a moment, brushing a stray strand of her mousey brown hair and tucking it behind her ear. She smirks, the curl of her lip reaching to her rosy cheeks as an idea pops in her head. "I think it's time for drastic measures. Ey, Victor?"
She turns to face her friend, and the smile turns into a mock pout. Victor Van Dort is busy crouching, full attention on a blue butterfly perched on a flower. His nimble fingers carefully handle his quill pen as he tries to capture the details of his newfound muse.
Victoria approaches him, careful to tip toe around the contents of his satchel strewn all around him. She quietly crouches down beside him, gathering the fabric of her white dress not to let it touch the ground, careful not to spook the butterfly and its young artist. "Large Blue?" She whispers to him.
It takes a few moments, Victoria watches him glide his quill on the paper with ease, and the boy eventually replies. "Good guess," he smiles, not breaking his gaze from the butterfly. "But this one has large circles on both pairs of wings, and the antennae lacks stripes. Never seen one like it before."
Victoria rests her chin on her knee, wracking her brain for any other possible answers. "Perhaps you've found an entirely new species, professor!" She giddily whispers, gently nudging him. "Another one to add to The Great Victor's Big Book of Butterflies."
Victor bites his lips to stifle a laugh and to keep his hand steady. Just a bit more detail on the forewing and he should be done. "Perhaps," he softly says, lifting the quill from the paper. The two children admire the artwork, then Victor gently lays it on the ground to dry. "I'll call it… Large… Circles?"
Victoria shakes her head. "Definitely not."
As if sensing its purpose has been fulfilled the butterfly flaps its wings for a bit, stretching its muscles before taking flight in the air, finding a new flower to perch on.
Victor's gaze follows the butterfly. "Definitely never said I was very good at naming," He smiles, and Victoria chuckles. "You were saying something before?"
"Oh, yes!" Victoria says, standing up. "Progress on Scraps? Very clear. He needs extra help," the two swing their heads to face Scraps who is lazily laying on his back on the grass. The black-spotted white dog enjoys his little nap, tongue lolling out as he basks in the sunlight. "I was thinking of snacks."
Victoria looks around Victor's belongings, and spots a small pouch of dog treats. "May I?" She asks him, and he nonchalantly nods while he puts away his things in his satchel.
Then he takes a second glance when he realizes what she was referring to. "Oh, those are for Scraps."
"Yes," Victoria raises an eyebrow. "To use to teach Scraps."
It takes a moment before Victor's agape mouth and confused face blush from embarrassment. "Right," He ducks his head and packs his things faster. "I thought you meant snacks for us." He whispers.
Victoria also picks up a loose string, and walks towards the ball she threw, rubbing Scrap's belly as she passes him. She picks up the ball, ties a dog biscuit in the shape of a bone to it, and skips towards Scraps with a devilish smile.
She kneels beside him and wags the ball over his muzzle, Scraps still enjoying his own world. But his dreams of eternal belly rubs are interrupted when the scent of beef-flavored goodness invades his nose. The dog enthusiastically gets back on his feet. "No, no. You're not getting this easy," She says.
Looks like a whole afternoon of training wasn't such a waste at all. Scraps has never been this attentive before; eyes glued to the ball, tail wagging furiously, and Victoria prouder at the dog more than ever. She dangles the ball to her left, Scraps follows. She takes the ball behind her then back to her front, Scraps diligently circles her. She holds up the ball higher, and Scraps stands on his hind legs.
"Scraps, you tubby pup." Victor laughs as he kneels down to hug him, and Scraps's sight never leaves the ball.
"Looks like I do a better job than your master, eh, Scraps?" Victoria says with a winning smile. She stands, determination sparkling in her eyes. She moves her shoulder, circling her arm to get good range of motion.
"If only I knew all it took was beefy bones," Victor chuckles, petting his beloved dog as Scraps happily licks his face. "Oh! Let's see how far you can get. Go long!" Victor cheers as he let's go of Scraps.
Victoria nods, grinning as she runs farther, signaling Scraps to follow along. Scraps excitedly yip and bark at her feet, standing on his hind legs and leaning on her dress, getting impatient.
"Alright, puppy, get ready!" Victoria winds her arms, Victor cheering her on from the side to avoid getting in her line of sight. Scraps gets in a stance, ready to run. Victoria takes a deep breath, once again tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and breathes out. She leans her torso back, then bringing it forward as her arm goes in a wide arc, hand releasing in just the right moment for the ball to fly straight and true. It whizzes fast, both children's smile growing to their ears, before realizing the trajectory of the ball.
It crashes straight through the window. And someone moans in pain.
Scraps merrily runs after it, halting in place when he sees the window is way higher than he can reach. He heads for the doors that leads inside, jumps to an amazing height to grasp the knob with his mouth, opens the door and heads inside.
So the dog was smarter than the kids think.
The already pale children go ghostly white, smiles gone into a deep guilty frown as they stood paralyzed in place - more so Victoria when she hears an all too familiar shriek followed by continuous sneezing from inside the mansion.
"Victoria!" Emily yells, holding a ball with a biscuit tied to it as she frantically runs away from a spotted dog. "VICTORIA!" She yells again, voice turning garbled as her sinuses start to act up.
Of course her day is ruined once again thanks to her little sister. When she thought she could get a single day of peace - a day where she isn't hearing, seeing, nor being anywhere near Victoria - to do many productive things with her time, it would always spiral downwards with Victoria having something to do with it. This time, with a creature that was the bane of her existence: a pet with fur.
She was just taking a break from her piano lessons with her governess, Lady Gertrude. Only a few more rounds of playing Organ Symphony, and she'll be able to play it whole and perfectly just as the older lady says. Emily was skipping her way through the hallway, with some steps gradually turning to a few graceful moves of free dancing. The music was playing in her head, fingers dancing in the air as she loses herself in the moment.
Then a loud crash besides her, and something hits against her shoulders with a loud thump, causing her to yelp and wince. She slows herself, gingerly holding her shoulder and cautiously straightens her posture to look around. Shards of glass dangerously spread near hear, then her eyes land on the culprit for forming a bruise on her shoulder.
She tip-toes around the glass, and with a swift and graceful duck, she picks up the ball with her hand. She turns around when she hears the jiggling of door knobs. Emily quickly puts on a deep frown, doing her best to ignore the pain in her shoulder to straighten herself even more, mind racing with sharp words to deliver to her sister.
Her anger fizzles to a rising anxiety as the goofy smile of a small dog meets her.
Victoria gulps, hesitating to move. She runs towards the mansion, pulling Victor by the arm. The two children open the doors, and sees a crying Emily running away from Scraps who thinks they're playing.
Scraps eventually corners Emily, who couldn't stop sniffling as continuous streaks of tears cloud her sight. Victor quickly swoops in to pick up Scraps in his arms struggling to keep the determined dog away from the older girl. Victoria takes the ball from her shaking sister's hands, yanks the treat from it, and gives it to Scraps to keep him behaved. The boy steps away, but it does little to calm Emily's allergies.
"What were you-" Emily brings her hands up to her nose as she sneezes. "Thinking of bringing him in here!" Her eyes widen as she glances at the doors. "In there!" Her cheeks and nose grow bright red, hands frantically searching for a handkerchief on her person and quickly bringing it to her runny nose.
The younger kids anxiously glance at each other, then back to her. Victoria tries to speak but is only cut off by Emily's growing anger. "Broke a window, bruising my shoulder," Emily says pointing with her good arm as her tone quickly rises, and her taller height easily towering the two eight-year-olds. "The gardens, Victoria! The gardens!" She exasperates. "Do you want Mother and Father grow more furious with you? Do you!?"
Victoria bites her quivering lip, unable to look her in the eyes as her hands busies themselves by wringing her shoulder-length hair. "It's the only place left where he's allowed to be in…" She squeaks.
Emily sniffles, pinching the bridge of her nose as the frown doesn't leave. "Not even Hildegarde nor Emil is allowed in there, and you think he's acceptable?"
"I'm not even allowed to go outside this week!" Victoria says a bit louder, but the voice quavers. "I can't be in his house, not in the village, and he can't be in here. How am I supposed to see Victor again!" She says, tightly wringing her hair and her eyes never leaving the floor.
Emily lets out a defeated sigh. "I was referring to the dog," She says, tiredly motioning her arms towards him.
Victor stands there awkwardly, hugging Scraps tighter, unsure if he should leave the scene or stay to wait for Victoria.
Emily leers at the boy, intimidating despite the allergies. "The gall of you of being in here." She sneers, and Victor shrinks in response. "Go and take Vincent back to his home."
"…Victor."
"Whatever." Emily rolls her eyes. "Go and take him back to his home. Before Mother sees." She says to Victoria with finality.
Victoria does her best to hold back the tears prickling her eyes, and Victor quietly goes to her side. She tries to look up, but her eyes fall again to the marble floor. "But-"
"Victoria." A cold and deep voice echoes in the hallways, the thumping of heels against the floor fills the silence as a very tall figure approaches the three.
Everyone stands straighter, and Emily determinately stifles her sniffles. The lady of the house comes into view, her usual frown and disappointed face heightened by the bickering. Lady Everglot casts a harsh glance at her daughters with her hands tightly clasped in front of her. An eyebrow raises for a moment when she sees a boy, and it quickly turns to rage. Contained by her graceful demeanor, but enraged nonetheless.
She turns to the broken window, glaring at the mess. "I heard prattle, disrupting tea."
Emily quickly steps forward, matching her mother's posture. "I've handled Victoria, mother. Gave her an earful." She quickly turns back, shooing them away while she talks with their mother. Victor puts a hand on Victoria's arm, giving her a knowing look, and both children hurriedly runs away from the scene, leaving Emily alone. "I'll go fetch Emile to clean it up at once-"
"What is a street urchin doing in our domicile?" Lady Eveglot says, barely moving.
Emily sniffs, anxiously patting dirt away from her clothes. "He's our neighbor, Mother. And Victoria's friend."
The woman turns around to face her daughter, hands momentarily balled to fists before returning to being clasped together. Neighbor. It brings nothing but distaste hearing anything from that family. "He's been in there," She says, pointing towards the gardens. "Hasn't he?"
Emily recoils a bit from her mother's gaze, unable to see her in the eyes. Her hands wring together from fear. "I haven't seen," She states. "I couldn't see from my watery eyes. They were already inside the house when my eyes started to clear."
Lady Everglot sighs, taking one last glance before turning around and walking away, motioning for Emily to follow her. The lady stands tall, with her absurd hair accentuating the authority that surrounds her. She snaps her fingers at servants walking by, barely speaking in full sentences as she snappily orders them to clean up the mess behind them. They all comply dutifully, and the two ladies continue their walk in tensed silence.
They make their way towards the top floors, Emily patiently waiting for her mother to speak. Thankfully, her allergies have calmed, and she could breathe somewhat easily again.
"She's making this family into a joke," Lady Everglot says, tone flat. Emily tenses. "A commoner." She says lowly, disdain heavy in her tongue.
Another good moment of silence envelops the two until they reached the top floor of the mansion - hallway with windows that overlook the village below. "Lady Gertrude speaks highly of your lessons lately. Piano most of all."
Emily smiles to herself for a moment, pride swells in her before quickly turning back to a more neutral expression.
"Sewing needs more work, she comments, as well as quilting." Lady Everglot continues. Emily deflates. "But you do compensate with your progress on your singing. That should suffice with Claude."
Claude. Cousin Claude. Emily shifts uncomfortably from where she stands, trying to put her focus on the humdrum motions of the villagers out the window.
Lady Everglot joins her side, staring down on the people below. "You still have years to turn out perfect."
"I know, Mother." Emily replies, tired.
"You are the useful one."
"…as so you say, Mother."
Emily sighs, shoulders feeling heavier than ever, hands fall to her sides. She stares at the sky instead, bleary grey clouds covering the town in a somber, dull tint. It's what she's supposed to do, she thinks.
She feels her mother's hand on her shoulder, the one with the bruise, and Emily does her best to not let her mother know what's underneath her sleeve. "Everything you're learning, it's for this family," Lady Everglot says, softer than usual. "Our lives are better off with Claude having you in tow. Those fishmongers may gloat all they want, but true wealth runs in your blood."
Lady Everglot turns away from her, and Emily uses the time to take a breath. "To have sons, that was according to plan. Yet here we are, with no proper heir," The older lady says as she walks away, and the younger hugs herself as she breathes out. Without glancing back, she continues. "Do remember that, girl."
Emily closes her eyes, ears focused on the soft taps of her mother's heels on the marble floor. She slowly opens them, when she's sure she's gone and she's alone with her thoughts. Emily loosens her tight grip on her arms, as well refraining from biting her lip when she didn't notice she was doing it. She takes a few steps towards the window, hands on the glass as she stares for something in the sky. But it's all rolls of endless grey above. Her gaze travels downwards, on the pointy roofs, to the paved road, to the people milling about. She doesn't know what she's looking for, too rattled by her mother, so she stares ahead blankly. Then she stares at the edge of town.
"I don't… want to…" She barely whispers, as if her mother was still lurking around. She sighs, leaning her forehead on the window as she continues to stare aimlessly. But what can she do? She knew her family's finances were steadily declining, ever since her father's business started struggling years ago. And it's her duty, being the firstborn. Not a firstborn son, but still a firstborn, and she has to do what she can for the Everglot name.
Her somber mood turns to confusion, as she spots something at the edge of town. A blur of mousey brown, another figure of the same size, and a smaller one running along the two are making their way to the forest. Emily's demeanor turns to annoyance at the recognition of the figures. She curls her hands into a fist. "Damfino." She curses to herself, quickly making her way downstairs and out the mansion.
Her mind is once again racing with sharp words that simply needs to be delivered.
Author's Note:
AU where Emily is an Everglot, and Victor and Victoria are childhood best friends.
I like the idea that Emily is an Everglot, and she's the reason why her family's wealth spiraled down, but of course that theory doesn't make sense in the movie. Also, the idea that people fall in love at first sight just doesn't sit well with me. I remember when I was little, I wanted so bad for Victor to end up with Emily, because they had more interactions with each other and a lot more chemistry compared to him and Victoria. So… This is my way of fixing that issue.
Also cross-posted on DeviantArt: elieile/art/Collie-Shangles-Chapter-1-875801360