Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except Katie. Everyone else belongs to whoever they belong to. LOL
Notes: Okay, whoops. I uploaded the fic without adding notes or anything. I just want to say that this is post-LXG, maybe by a few months, as Allan is obviously alive, and Dorian is... not. LOL Also, it might take me awhile to write up the chapters. Alrighty... I think that's it.
Chapter One: A New Life
Their angry voices raised as I lay in bed, my thin blanket pulled up over my head. My throat was sore from my ragged sobs, but I had cried myself out finally. I wanted to sleep, but my body would not let me, my fear forcing me to keep my eyes open. My eight year old mind barely grasped the meaning behind the angry words being shouted below me, but I knew that they would mean only more heartache for me. I curled up onto my side, wishing my mother would appear, would tell me that she hadn't left me, and that we'd be together forever.
" I'm not taking that... that witch!" One of my neighbors screamed, breaking into my mournful thoughts," Are you sure she has no father?" The question was a stupid one to ask, of course. Everyone in the small town in which I grew up knew that I had no father, as it was quite the scandal. My mother, ever the stubborn woman, had raised me on her own after my father left. She told me the story often, about how much she loved my father, calling him her knight in shining armor. It had been a torrid love affair, which ended in tears when he had to leave. I had always listened to the story with total interest, picturing a dashing gentleman with a kindly smile.
When I had been born, my mother knew that there was something special about me. My eyes had the most unique colouring, a pale green with a ring of pure red in the middle. But what she had seen as a special trait, others saw as the mark of the devil. We were shunned even more than before, and I was labeled a witch child. When I went to the tiny school in the middle of town, many times I met insults and had stones thrown at me.
I suppose in some ways their actions had some merit. I was strange, I was different. I had the amazing and frightening gift of being able to hear what people were thinking, especially if it had a strong emotion behind it, such as anger or pure love. That, coupled with the ability to move things with my mind, made me shy away from the community more than ever, for fear of hurting someone. The people around me were more than willing to avoid me.
My mother more than made up for the hatred by showering me with love. I was her one and only child, and she loved me tenderly. She encouraged me constantly, and she taught me all she knew. But my happy home was about to be torn away from me violently one day.
It had started as just a regular walk to the lake that was near our home. We picked wild raspberries on the way, and she had sung her favorite song for me. She never had a good voice, but her enthusiasm more than made up for her lack of talent. She would belt out the song with as much vigor as she could muster. It was on this walk that she decided to climb a large tree after spotting a bird's nest.
When she fell, I must've fallen into a stupor, because the next thing I knew I was at home, huddled in a chair as my neighbors argued around me. As their voiced raised in volume, I scampered upstairs and hid under my mother's bed. The fighting had gone on clear until night, and it frightened me. What would happen to me now?
When morning came, I was awakened by a curt knock at the door. Father Lewis, the town priest, walked in, his wrinkled face as solemn as ever. Behind him, old lady O'Neil glared at me, giving me a wary look as if she expected me to turn her into a toad right where she stood. Father Lewis cleared his throat and said," Get dressed young lady, and pack your things." He turned on his heel after saying this, leaving me with old lady O'Neil. She helped me dress roughly, combing my hair hard, making tears spring to my eyes. I thanked her afterwards, remembering my manners. I grabbed my traveling bag and packed all the things I could manage to fit in there, including a worn out copy of the bible which my mother always kept with her.
Under my arm I carried my old teddy bear, aptly named Teddy. O'Neil shook her head at me and tutted," Just as immature as her mother." I glared at her, my one outburst of the evening, and she quailed, scampering towards the Father. I wanted to ask where I was going, but I knew that my questions would only be met with hostility. We waited in silence by the door of my home, and I took a few moments to look over every last detail of the house, knowing that I probably wouldn't see it ever again.
When a carriage pulled up out front, a thin, gaunt looking woman stepped out. She had eyes as cold as the winter wind, black as coals. She wore a long purple dress, and wore a black choker around her swan-like neck. She peered down at me, and then asked Father Lewis," Is this Katie Howard?" The Father nodded and replied," Aye Madame." They exchanged a few words, and then I was ushered into the carriage.
The woman looked me over and murmured," What a strange, maudlin girl." I gave her my very best glare as the carriage began to move and did not deign her comment with a response. She 'tsked' at me and then conversationally asked," You do know where you're headed, don't you?" I shook my head and she smiled, nothing more of a flash of teeth really.
" You're coming to my school. St.John's Correctional School for Girls." She stressed the beginning of each word to add impact to them, and I slumped in despair, wondering why God had turned his back on me. She sighed heavily and continued," Yes, there are many girls like you at my school... homeless, unwanted. None as strange as you though. You have a peculiar air about you, girl."
" My name is Katie." I replied softly, staring out the window as it began to rain heavily, the sky grey and dull," Katie Howard." She 'tsked' again and ordered," Sit up straight, legs crossed at the ankle. I will not have you sitting like a man." I did as she said, lifting my chin slightly at the same time. I briefly wondered how far away this school was.
My answer came much later. It was nearly dark out by the time we reached the school. It was in the middle of London, a cold city which made me shiver as soon as I stepped out of the carriage. Though it was dark, there were many people still roaming the streets, many giving us a curious look. The school was a tall, eerie building with nasty looking gargoyles guarding the roof. The woman, who's name ended up being Madame Castille, unlocked the wrought iron gates with a large key, and ushered me inside.
I walked inside the school, and was passed off onto a maid who lead me to my room. It was a tiny room with barely room enough to walk in. There was a small dresser, a tiny cot-like bed and a window that looked out onto the street. I unpacked my things, hiding my bible in one of my drawers, and the maid told me the schedule that I would follow day in day out. I would wake at seven, and had an hour to get ready, including making my bed and keeping my room tidy. There would be breakfast after that, and then French, History and Geography lessons, followed by lunch. Then there would be an hour's free time, followed by Mathematics, Latin and Grammar lessons. After dinner I would be given etiquette lessons, and then would be expected to listen to a passage from a classic book. On Sundays there would be church instead of French lessons.
I stayed at that school for ten years, still an outcast with no friends. I was not allowed to attend my mother's funeral, which I highly doubt actually happened. I became a studious child, finding nothing else to do to occupy my time. As I grew older, my gifts grew too. I would hear the thoughts of everyone around me, and sometimes it became far too much, sending me into a 'fit'. Madame saw this, and made note of it for later.
And now, here I am, nineteen years of age and preparing to leave the school. Madame has told me that I will be sent to a much different place than the school. Most of the girls, upon leaving the school, find a husband or go to a nunnery. As Madame put it, I was not suited to either of these institutions. She told me that she had contacted a special group, called the League of Gentlemen, or something to that effect. I would be well taken care of there, she told me. This was all that she mentioned.
I pack my things for the second time in my life, a tiny smile on my lips. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I pause to admire what I see. Vanity is one of the things frowned upon at the school, but in moments of privacy, many of the girls indulge in their personal beauty. I have grown into a tall, slender woman. I have inherited my mothers elegant hands and smooth white skin. My mother's hair had been jet black and straight though, and my hair is quite the opposite. My hair is curly and golden, reaching my backside. Currently, I have it pinned up on my head in the most elegant style I could think of with just a few tendrils hanging down on my neck. I wear a hunter green dress and a black choker around my neck, which has a gentle curve to it.
Madame says I could easily be married, if only I my eyes were different. I happen to like my eyes, finding them my best trait. Still, I have been encouraged to wear a special pair of tinted glasses which hide them completely. I quickly finish packing at Madame's impatient call, replying," Coming Madame!" There will be no farewell party for me, but I do not mind. I am having my own celebration in my heart, where it counts the most. I will finally be able to have my own life, to carve out my own existence and identity.
I follow Madame into the carriage and nod dutifully when she tells me to keep quiet while she speaks to the leader of this League I will be a part of. I don't really understand what the League is about, but I put my faith in fate and trust Madame's choice. When we reach a small building by a museum even deeper in downtown London, I wonder what is so special about this place. It looks just like any other building. I follow Madame out of the carriage, my bags in hand. I falter slightly when the inner voice of several people float through my head, but I continue on, pushing them out again and regaining my silence.
When we enter the building, my entire opinion of the building changes. I feel a sense of belonging here already, even though I do not know anything about it. It feels like a real home. Madame looks around and then sniffs," Where are the servants?" I stifle a giggle, but she hears the humour in my voice as I softly say," Perhaps they have none, Madame." She 'tsks' and then strides into the hallway, motioning for me to follow.
" Madame, perhaps we should wait-" I begin, but am cut off when she curtly snaps," Nonsense!" I nod again, but inside feel mortified at the thought of invading someone's home like this. Before we could walk any further, a dark man in a very exotic blue outfit comes towards us. His beard is black and reaches his heart, his eyes are a warm brown colour. I cannot tell the colour of his hair, due to the turban which he has perched on his head. He gives a little bow and says," Very sorry to keep you waiting. Please follow me." We walk down the hallway, and I sense the man's slight irritation at Madame, but curiosity towards me. When he glances back at Madame and I, I flash a shy smile at him.
He takes us into a large room with a long table in the center. On the walls are row upon row of books, and my heart leaps in my chest when I see them all. I've always loved a good book, but the 'classic novels' which I was subjected to for nearly ten years were books about the virtue of a marriage, and how a woman should act. I hated them with a passion. When I see the people assembled in the room, the nervous butterflies in my stomach flutter even more. My hands tremble, and I silently thank Madame for telling me to put on my tinted glasses before coming here. I wouldn't want them to see my emotions right now. I'm scared to death.
I size up each person in the room in turn, beginning with the man closest to me. He looks very fidgety and mousy. He has reddish hair and is very lanky. His eyes dart towards me and he offers a nervous smile, playing with a pocket watch to occupy his hands. I tilt my head to the side as I regard him, sensing something odd about him from the beginning. On the outside, he looks perfectly normal, if a little nervous. But there's a... primal force inside of him... so noticeable that I would almost say there is another person inside of him.
I shift my eyes to the next person, and am completely surprised when I see a woman standing there. She regards me with a cold, almost clinical stare, and I have to supress a shudder when her presence becomes known to me. She too has an animal inside of her, only hers isn't anothe being. It's wrapped up tight within her, clinging to her. She's beautiful, but in a very maudlin sort of way. I move on.
When I look at the youngest looking man in the room, he winks at me playfully, making me blush slightly. He's got scruffy blonde hair and cheery blue eyes. He's well built, and his face is very handsome. He seems very sure of himself. Next to him stands... a coat? I frown and tilt my head to the side again, openly gawking. What on earth is this, some sort of trick? My eyes widen when it moves it's arms, gesturing. It pulls something out of it's pocket, and I realize it's a paint of some sort as he starts smearing a white substance over his face, so I can see what he looks like, at least a little. When he puts on a pair of tinted glasses like mine, he smirks at me, reaching for his glass of whisky and taking a deep gulp. I try not to stare too obviously when I see the drink slide down his throat down, down into his belly.
When my eyes land on the last man in the room, my breath catches in my throat. I immediatly recognise the older man standing before me, as I have seen his face many times before. True, he does look older than the man in the picture, but.... Oh Lord, it's him! I make myself calm down, telling myself that it's probably just a coincidence, but my mind keeps running back to the picture which I had found in my mother's bible. It looks exactly like him. On the back, my mother wrote,' Allan Quatermain.' Perhaps she just admired him?
" I am Madame Castille." Madame says, her voice frosty," This is my charge, Miss Katie Howard. She is now yours to deal with." I look at her with an expression that clearly displays my distaste at that introduction, but don't say anything about it. " She is a good student, if a little willful. I'm sure you will be able to explain all to her," she continues. She then turns towards me and gives me a kiss on each cheek, murmuring," Goodbye Katie, and good luck." I am slightly surprised at her sudden burst of emotion, but manage to kiss her back and whisper," Thank you for everything, Madame." For the first time since I've met her, I don't want her to leave me alone with these strangers.
But she does, and I find myself alone for the second time in my life. The man wearing the turban speaks up, asking me to have a seat. I listen intently as he explains the purpose of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. I find his tale of their first meeting and subsequent adventure, and the result of it. He introduces each person in the room, and I shake hands with them all. The nervous, fidgety man's name is Dr.Jekyll, the woman's name is Mina Harker and the blonde man is an American named Tom Sawyer. The moving coat's name is Rodney Skinner, an invisible man, and the man wearing the turban is named Captain Nemo.
" So tell us luv," Mr.Skinner begins, taking another gulp of his whisky," what's your 'thing'?" I smile briefly and then quietly say," My... 'thing', Mr.Skinner?" He raises an eyebrow and impatiently prompts," You know... your power!" My smile widens a little more and reach out with my mind to all of them.
" Ah, you mean my gift, Mr. Skinner." I whisper telepathically. I giggle a little as they all jerk, staring at me wide-eyed. I pause for a moment and then softly say," I can hear people's thoughts as well." They all blanch at this, probably worried that I might try to listen to their thoughts, and with good reason. I shake my head and softly continue," I would never listen to your thoughts, I assure you. I try my best to keep secrets a secret. Besides... I tend to... have a hard time when subjected to too many thoughts at once."
" That is a very powerful gift to wield." Nemo says softly, leaning back in his chair. I nod and then softly say," That's not all." I raise a hand, and then coax one of the books off the shelf and into my grasp. I hold it to my chest, and wait for their comments. I smile a little when I hear Dr.Jekyll state," W-well... that must be a useful talent." I nod and reply," Yes, it has proved to be very useful at times."
Don't even think about it Henry, she's not interested.
I gasp when I hear the foreign voice, and I look at Dr.Jekyll with wide eyes. He stares back at me, his face caught between a look of confusion and a look of irritation. I tilt my head again slightly and murmur," There is someone else inside of you." Jekyll pales and then stammers," H-how-."
" He's very loud." I answer, touching my temple," He makes my head ache." Ms. Harker leans forward and demands," You can hear Mr.Hyde." I nod and say," I can." Skinner grins and pours himself another drink saying," Welcome to the team. Heh."