What Truths the Light will Show
Disclaimer: As per usual, I must reluctantly admit that I do not own any part of V for Vendetta in any way, shape or form.
Forgive me for the lack of updates recently, I would have updated a few days ago had the site not conspired against me (ie: refused to let me log in) and wackiness ensued over the weekend…
Chapter Four
vVv The Past vVv
The initial excitement of meeting extended members of the family had worn out a couple of hours ago. Grant had smiled and made polite remarks to people's comments of how much he had grown and how handsome a young man he had become. Everyone was amazed at his ability to remember their names from the last family reunion, held years ago. He had always been in the habit of carefully associating names to faces, ever since he had realized how much it impressed people. Grant chatted politely with various aunts and uncles, only faltering slightly when someone had utterly insisted upon calling him Wilbert, the name of his long-dead grandfather.
After making his dutiful rounds, he took up his unofficial role at all of these gatherings; entertaining the children. It gave the adults a well-needed break and, most importantly, it amused both him and the kids. After scrounging for an old beach ball, he had spent a couple of hours playing the children's favorite games and even helping them invent a few of their own. Their new games often ended with him at the bottom of a dog-pile, laughing. It was while he was knocked on his arse and covered in little cousins and fresh grass clippings that his life changed forever.
"And last but not least, this is Grant, Rose's grandson, Emily and Mark's youngest child," one of his elderly aunts remarked. "Grant, dear, I don't believe you have ever met Lisa, have you? She was married to your second cousin William, may he rest in peace. And this is her new fiancé, Gabriel."
Grant looked up at the couple, suddenly self-conscious. Clothes in disarray and dirtied, face flushed and sweaty from exertion, hair mussed up and with bits of grass sticking in it. God, he must have looked a complete idiot. He was both embarrassed to be found lying on the ground and grateful for the fact at the same time. Had he been standing, the sight of the warm, honey-brown eyes gazing bemusedly at him would have made his knees give out. Grant took a moment to compose himself, under the guise of squirming out from underneath the mass of children.
"A pleasure," he stated breathlessly, extending his hand out to the newcomers. "Forgive me; playing with the children has left me a bit short of breath." He shook one hand, then the other, a frisson of excitement and anxiety coursing through his body as his hand contacted the other's. The group laughed and chatted, hopefully naturally, for a few brief moments. In that short time, Grant was completely undone. He was mesmerized by the warm eyes, by fine wisps of light brown hair that framed a smooth, pale face. A low, cultured voice hummed delightfully in his ears so that the pleasure of the sensation almost drowned out the words. The speaker was intelligent and calm. Grant hoped that he hadn't appeared too mesmerized by the movements of their supple lips.
Oh, God, what is happening to me? Grant agonized much later as he stood by the punch bowl. This is wrong, this is so bloody wrong. He tried to rationalize the situation, telling himself that the heat and exertion of the day were making him imagine things. The fact that he was overtired from his recent work on his master's thesis and from staying up all last night to read did not help matters. It is nothing, he decided with a firm finality. My mind is just playing tricks on me. Nothing more. He helped himself to another glass of orange punch, gulping it down in seconds. God, he was thirsty.
"Planning on draining the punch bowl, are we?" a low voice teased. Grant jumped and fumbled the cup. He had, quite mercifully, just swallowed his mouthful of drink, and therefore was spared the embarrassment of spraying it all over the place in shock.
"Contemplating swimming in it, actually," he replied, hopefully airily. "All this chatting and playing with the children has left me quite parched."
"And quite looking like a piece of shrubbery." The other looked pointedly at his hair. Grant flushed, realizing self-consciously that there must have still been bits of grass and twigs caught in his hair. Then he smiled cheekily, refusing to let himself be embarrassed any further.
"All part of my disguise," he confided. "I've had a very tiring day, and I figure that if I can blend in enough with the landscaping, I'll be spared any further strain on my voice and body." He put a finger to his lips in a silent entreaty that his secret not be revealed.
Grant's boyish teasing was met with an utterly blank face. His smile faltered and his heart plummeted inexplicably. His joke had backfired, and made him look even more foolish. The other leaned in and whispered seriously, "So, I imagine I must look very foolish to everyone; standing here and talking to a shrub." They looked at each other and shared a smile.
Oh, God. Stop this, stop this now. People will see, they'll know. This isn't appropriate; this person is to be married soon. His new friend seemed to be totally oblivious to his inner turmoil. "I've been making some new acquaintances here. I hear that you are currently writing your master's thesis on comparative iconology." Ah, good. Normal conversation. Grant switched to this new topic with ease.
"Yes, focusing mainly on the religious symbols and icons of the late Mesopotamian culture and how they have been adapted or transformed into icons that we see today." They chatted smoothly for quite some time, amazing Grant at how intelligent and keen this person was. Suddenly, the bombshell was dropped.
"Actually, I was inquiring because a friend of mine has also done quite a bit of study in ancient cultures, not Mesopotamian specifically, but he does have some interesting viewpoints about ancient icons and symbols."
"You didseem to know a fair bit about the subject," Grant admitted. The other smiled.
"I've just picked up bits and pieces of knowledge from listening to my friend rant. He's quite passionate about it. He's actually doing a lecture at King's College and I thought it might be of interest to you." Grant nodded and murmured an affirmative answer. "Well, I had also promised to go to provide moral support; this is my friend's first university lecture. I was actually hoping to avoid sitting alone in a crowd of people I don't know with an utterly blank look on my face." Grant's heart thudded in his chest. "Perhaps we could meet an hour before the lecture and you can give me a crash-course in the subject?"
"I'd hate to bore you," Grant spluttered, searching for an excuse in spite of himself. He both longed for and dreaded the thought of a more personal meeting with this person.
The other laughed. "My friend is a bore, actually. And rather pretentious. But you explain the subject so well and are easy to talk to." Both could sense that they were entering into dangerous territory, but were drawn to it anyways. Grant couldn't think of any more excuses to turn down such an obvious invitation, and didn't really want to anyways. They chatted some more, decided the where and when of it all before parting ways. It all looked so innocuous, two new acquaintances planning on a meeting before attending a university lecture. Grant knew better.
He turned to leave and raised a hand in parting. "I will see you on Tuesday then." The other smiled and nodded. "It was nice meeting you, Gabriel."
Author's note: Hm… I tried to hide the fact that Grant was talking to (flirting with?) Gabriel until the end of the chapter. I hope it didn't make the writing seem a bit stilted. I didn't even want to let on that Grant was somewhat infatuated with a man. Well, at least they're not family.
Also, I just bought the graphic novel yesterday and am almost finished reading it. V is really insane. I love it and am creeped out by it at the same time. If the thought of an almost-50 year old V really bugs you, feel free to use the comic timeline: only 4 or 5 years had passed between the escape from Larkhill and V's rescue of Evey. However, this will mean that Evey is only 16 and, considering what I may decide to do with the pair later… I kind of prefer to have V being middle-aged and Evey being of legal age.