Warnings: Slightly scary, dark, shounen-ai later (1x2)
Note: Set in Victorian England. I dunno where it's gonna go. We'll just hope for the best, ne?
Elfindell
Chapter 1
That house gave *everyone* the creeps. It was big, old, grey and.old. It nestled behind a tall row of neglected bushes at the end of a lane in a small, respectable Victorian town. It was quite a bright, happy lane, with quaint old houses running down each side and children were often to be seen playing around, laughing and shouting in the cobbled street between the houses. The houses were always well lit and pleasant, cheery smoke often curling from the homely chimneys.
Except Elfindell. Elfindell's chimney was dusty and cracked and never had any smoke curling from except on the very coldest of winter days. The whitewash paint was greyed and peeling, the garden was flat, boring lawn that looked always somewhat neglected. The front porch needed mending.
It could almost be mistaken for an abandoned old building if it weren't for the odd candlelight that often flickered from one or more window at night. The occupant of the house, one Miss Relena Peacecraft, (a young widow, they said) could be seen once a week, rain or shine, tramping down to the market on a Tuesday with a wicker basket on one arm. She never spoke to anyone unless it was absolutely necessary and people generally chose not to speak to her. Children stopped laughing and playing and just stared at her in a slightly fearful silence whenever she passed by. She never seemed to notice them.
She was tall, with pale blonde hair always tied back in a severe tail. She never wore make-up. Her face had a kind of beauty in a cold, austere way that even seemed to make her beauty grey. She always wore stiff homespun wool; sensible dresses with the occasional shawl in the winter months, high necked and low-skirted. The clothes she wore were always grey, brown or, occasionally, a faded pale blue.
She emerged once a week, went to the market to buy her vegetables, candles, soap, meat and sometimes books and then retired back into Elfindell not to appear again until next week.
Newcomers to The Lane soon got used to The Lane's local mysterious person. Curiosity soon died simply because there was nothing to find out. A young widow who had reverted back to her maiden name, living in a run-down old house, secluded from the world, cold, separate and seemingly happy to stay that way.
The children of The Lane sometimes talked about her in hushed voices, just in case she could hear them from the dusty old house. Some thought her a witch and giggled over jokes about cauldrons in the cellar. You weren't to go into Elfindell's garden, ever, or you'd be turned into a toad by the witch! The children instinctively played away from the iron gates of Elfindell.
All the children simply *knew* the house was haunted, even if they didn't believe that Miss Peacecraft was a witch.
New children in The Lane thought it fascinating and listened to the stories of the older children with wide eyes and fists clenched in fear and excitement. But no matter how carefully they watched Elfindell or spied on Relena as she walked down The Lane on a Tuesday, they never really saw anything to suggest she was a witch, so they adopted the stories to frighten other children with and occasionally made up new ones to impress others with.
But mostly they ignored Elfindell and its lone occupant. Well, most of them did.
Heero Yuy was nine years old. He lived in the last house on the right, the last one in The Lane before the iron fence around Elfindell. He had moved there with his father after his mother's death when he was five. Though he never really smiled or laughed with the other children he always joined in their games with their spinning tops, hoops and sticks and other small wooden toys. He was usually included in the games, but the other children never really seemed to notice him. He listened to their idle chatter, watched them with their new toys, helped them build the odd go- cart or sit in the shade with them on the sunny days to drink milk and doze the summer afternoons away.
Children in The Lane always hung around together. It was just the way it was. And Heero liked it. No child in The Lane disliked another because it was far more fun to be friends with someone in case they got a new toy or heard a new story. It made them more inclined to lend them or tell them if they liked you.
Heero sometimes had new toys that drew the admiration of his fellows, but he never really had any new stories.
He loved to listen to their stories, though, and Elfindell fascinated him. He was the only one among them that never really forgot about Elfindell. The others all liked new stories, of ghosts in the church, gypsies on the common or an albino born on the other side of town. Heero listened to those stories, but he always liked the stories about Elfindell most.
He supposed it was because his bedroom window looked right in over the top of the iron fence and the bushes and he had a clear, unhindered view of the big old house. The best view of it all along The Lane, he was certain, except for actually inside the fence.
"You know about Elfindell, right, Heero?" said one of the older kids when he had first moved there. "It's the big old one right next to your house, behind the iron gates. A witch lives there and it's full of ghosts! You better watch out or they might come an' get ya!"
The intended affect was to have scared the smaller boy into hysterics. However, Heero had just stared at the older boy with fascinated eyes and asked for more stories.
He often peered out of his window into the overgrown garden and tried to peer through the dusty windows. He occasionally saw Relena, but only when she had come to the window to shut the curtains. He always peered hopefully for any sign of ghosts, but never saw any.
It was so one evening that Heero happened to glance out his window just as he had blown out his candle. He could see a light in one of Elfindell's windows. He couldn't resist sneaking up to his own window and looking around for any silhouettes of Relena in a tall, pointy hat, stirring a cauldron. But no. But he did see Relena, silhouetted against the candlelight. He couldn't tell what she was doing. He saw her lift the candle to her face, ready to blow it out. She was gesturing as if speaking to someone. Then, just as she blew out the candle, Heero plainly saw the silhouette of another person step into view, a small person, he just had time to see, a person kneeling or a child. But then the light was gone, the heavy drapes were pulled across Elfindell's window and Heero saw no more.
Another person? Someone else in Elfindell? For a frightened second, Heero thought maybe Relena had caught one of the kids and was going to turn them into a frog. But no, she hadn't been holding a wand. And she hadn't seemed angry.
But Relena lived all by herself and there was no way she could have smuggled in a child without someone knowing. It would have been all over The Lane if there was a visitor to Elfindell.
Heero went to bed, puzzling over this. He couldn't wait to tell the others in the morning.
TBC
Whaddaya think? I'm going for a different type of story on this one.
Note: Set in Victorian England. I dunno where it's gonna go. We'll just hope for the best, ne?
Elfindell
Chapter 1
That house gave *everyone* the creeps. It was big, old, grey and.old. It nestled behind a tall row of neglected bushes at the end of a lane in a small, respectable Victorian town. It was quite a bright, happy lane, with quaint old houses running down each side and children were often to be seen playing around, laughing and shouting in the cobbled street between the houses. The houses were always well lit and pleasant, cheery smoke often curling from the homely chimneys.
Except Elfindell. Elfindell's chimney was dusty and cracked and never had any smoke curling from except on the very coldest of winter days. The whitewash paint was greyed and peeling, the garden was flat, boring lawn that looked always somewhat neglected. The front porch needed mending.
It could almost be mistaken for an abandoned old building if it weren't for the odd candlelight that often flickered from one or more window at night. The occupant of the house, one Miss Relena Peacecraft, (a young widow, they said) could be seen once a week, rain or shine, tramping down to the market on a Tuesday with a wicker basket on one arm. She never spoke to anyone unless it was absolutely necessary and people generally chose not to speak to her. Children stopped laughing and playing and just stared at her in a slightly fearful silence whenever she passed by. She never seemed to notice them.
She was tall, with pale blonde hair always tied back in a severe tail. She never wore make-up. Her face had a kind of beauty in a cold, austere way that even seemed to make her beauty grey. She always wore stiff homespun wool; sensible dresses with the occasional shawl in the winter months, high necked and low-skirted. The clothes she wore were always grey, brown or, occasionally, a faded pale blue.
She emerged once a week, went to the market to buy her vegetables, candles, soap, meat and sometimes books and then retired back into Elfindell not to appear again until next week.
Newcomers to The Lane soon got used to The Lane's local mysterious person. Curiosity soon died simply because there was nothing to find out. A young widow who had reverted back to her maiden name, living in a run-down old house, secluded from the world, cold, separate and seemingly happy to stay that way.
The children of The Lane sometimes talked about her in hushed voices, just in case she could hear them from the dusty old house. Some thought her a witch and giggled over jokes about cauldrons in the cellar. You weren't to go into Elfindell's garden, ever, or you'd be turned into a toad by the witch! The children instinctively played away from the iron gates of Elfindell.
All the children simply *knew* the house was haunted, even if they didn't believe that Miss Peacecraft was a witch.
New children in The Lane thought it fascinating and listened to the stories of the older children with wide eyes and fists clenched in fear and excitement. But no matter how carefully they watched Elfindell or spied on Relena as she walked down The Lane on a Tuesday, they never really saw anything to suggest she was a witch, so they adopted the stories to frighten other children with and occasionally made up new ones to impress others with.
But mostly they ignored Elfindell and its lone occupant. Well, most of them did.
Heero Yuy was nine years old. He lived in the last house on the right, the last one in The Lane before the iron fence around Elfindell. He had moved there with his father after his mother's death when he was five. Though he never really smiled or laughed with the other children he always joined in their games with their spinning tops, hoops and sticks and other small wooden toys. He was usually included in the games, but the other children never really seemed to notice him. He listened to their idle chatter, watched them with their new toys, helped them build the odd go- cart or sit in the shade with them on the sunny days to drink milk and doze the summer afternoons away.
Children in The Lane always hung around together. It was just the way it was. And Heero liked it. No child in The Lane disliked another because it was far more fun to be friends with someone in case they got a new toy or heard a new story. It made them more inclined to lend them or tell them if they liked you.
Heero sometimes had new toys that drew the admiration of his fellows, but he never really had any new stories.
He loved to listen to their stories, though, and Elfindell fascinated him. He was the only one among them that never really forgot about Elfindell. The others all liked new stories, of ghosts in the church, gypsies on the common or an albino born on the other side of town. Heero listened to those stories, but he always liked the stories about Elfindell most.
He supposed it was because his bedroom window looked right in over the top of the iron fence and the bushes and he had a clear, unhindered view of the big old house. The best view of it all along The Lane, he was certain, except for actually inside the fence.
"You know about Elfindell, right, Heero?" said one of the older kids when he had first moved there. "It's the big old one right next to your house, behind the iron gates. A witch lives there and it's full of ghosts! You better watch out or they might come an' get ya!"
The intended affect was to have scared the smaller boy into hysterics. However, Heero had just stared at the older boy with fascinated eyes and asked for more stories.
He often peered out of his window into the overgrown garden and tried to peer through the dusty windows. He occasionally saw Relena, but only when she had come to the window to shut the curtains. He always peered hopefully for any sign of ghosts, but never saw any.
It was so one evening that Heero happened to glance out his window just as he had blown out his candle. He could see a light in one of Elfindell's windows. He couldn't resist sneaking up to his own window and looking around for any silhouettes of Relena in a tall, pointy hat, stirring a cauldron. But no. But he did see Relena, silhouetted against the candlelight. He couldn't tell what she was doing. He saw her lift the candle to her face, ready to blow it out. She was gesturing as if speaking to someone. Then, just as she blew out the candle, Heero plainly saw the silhouette of another person step into view, a small person, he just had time to see, a person kneeling or a child. But then the light was gone, the heavy drapes were pulled across Elfindell's window and Heero saw no more.
Another person? Someone else in Elfindell? For a frightened second, Heero thought maybe Relena had caught one of the kids and was going to turn them into a frog. But no, she hadn't been holding a wand. And she hadn't seemed angry.
But Relena lived all by herself and there was no way she could have smuggled in a child without someone knowing. It would have been all over The Lane if there was a visitor to Elfindell.
Heero went to bed, puzzling over this. He couldn't wait to tell the others in the morning.
TBC
Whaddaya think? I'm going for a different type of story on this one.
