A/N Hello folks, super happy to be here. Well here is chapter 7 straight from the loving hands of my beta. One note there will be some translations at the bottom. Hopefully the next chapter is not far behind. Hopefully you enjoy this and feel free to review.
~Storm
Chapter 7
June 14, 1880
The door opened and in walked not Vincent, beloved father, but Earl Phantomhive. His brown eyes were cold as ice and his mouth turned down ever so slightly at the corners. Hadrian felt his heart drop like a stone in his chest like it had never done before in either of his lives. He was not afraid of the man; even with his faulty magic he was sure that he would be able to escape, if need must, but a shiver of regret filled him at the thought.
Hadrian followed his father with his eyes as the man crossed the room and seated himself at his desk; neither of them said a word for several minutes. The boy took those minutes to really look at the man who had given his second body life. The man's brown eyes had bags beneath them and his hand shook where it rested on the desk, but his back remained as straight as a rod; his face was perfectly blank. Nothing of Hadrian's fate could be seen in any line of the man's body and that led the boy to the worst conclusions.
"Hadrian," his father's voice was like stone when he spoke. It was a voice that he had never heard directed at himself and Hadrian found his own back straightening. "You are my son, my heir. When I leave this world you will succeed me as Earl Phantomhive. This is truth as far as the crown is concerned and I am not one to deny her Majesty. However you are very young yet and the crown's truth can change at a moments notice. That having been said, my son, I expect you to tell me the facts of what happened in the hall last night."
Hadrian froze; what did he tell the man? Did he spill all his secrets and face the penalty for his 'crimes against god' or did he lie? The click of a hammer being drawn back was his deciding factor. The green-eyed boy looked straight into the eyes of his father, completely ignoring the pistol pointed at him.
"I saw his darkness." Hadrian's words rang in the silence of the room, the pistol dropped and the man's face whitened slightly, but those dark eyes beckoned for more. The boy grimaced and ran a hand over his face, he was more than a little uncomfortable even having exposed that little bit of himself. "I… Sometimes when I look into a person's eyes I can see the what they keep hidden behind their smiles."
"I see." Vincent replied as he finally set the gun down on the desk and stood. He walked to the window that overlooked the front lawn. He leaned against the sill for several minutes, leaving Hadrian to sweat in the silence. The boy was just about to speak when he turned, his body silhouetted by the sun that poured through the window. "And last night you saw behind Henry's smile, as you put it, into his darkness?"
"Yes." Flashes of the man's cruelty appeared before his eyes. Images of a young boy with blue-black hair and brown eyes quivering naked and bruised before him filled his mind's eye. Vincent had been just one of many of Henry's victims, but he had been the most clearly remembered of them. Hadrian's eyes must have shown something because the earl's face darkened but after a moment the shadows faded from his father's face.
"That explains some of it, your reaction at least, but not the pressure of the air or your quick movements. Tell me your answer to these things that defy the known sciences."
"I…" Hadrian started, still completely unsure of what he was going to say. Only he was stopped from saying anything by Vincent waving his hand.
"No, do not say anything," the older man said after a moment. He rubbed a hand across his face as his shoulders sagged. "I would rather that you not lie to me."
"Will you send me to the Tower?" Hadrian inquired, his voice barely heard in the study. In the back of his mind the pistol, which lay on the desk, remained a still viable threat as well. His father blinked once then twice.
"Heaven above, boy," Vincent suddenly sputtered as he laughed. His whole face a mix of shock and humor and the green-eyed boy felt relief course through his veins. "I have known you were different since the day you were born, Hadrian. The last thing I would do would be to send you there; dreadful place really. Certainly not somewhere a Phantomhive should be."
~0~
August 1, 1880
When Hadrian woke on the day after his seventh birthday Marcus, his father's butler, ushered him straight to the Earl's formal study. Vincent was waiting for him; he stood backlit by the open window, his wide shoulders set in an easy line. The boy took a seat in a chair set out for him and waited.
"Phantomhive," Vincent stated after a moment. "Our name holds great weight in this world. It is feared by men and women across the Empire, for good reason. We are the Queen's Guard Dog; sanctioned to protect Queen and country from the darker elements that would seek to tarnish the reputation of the crown."
Hadrian waited with near bated breath as his father paused. He did not understand what Vincent was getting at but it seemed important. The man turned and leaned against the window sill with his arms crossed. His face was pulled into a smug and deserving mask, his body loose and lean; he was a prime example of an English Gentleman.
"In other words we are responsible for the sick and twisted parts of human existence, those that would would sully the Queen's drawers. With this responsibility comes great power and prestige; though I am a mere Earl I hold sway in the greatest circles and my orders come directly from Her Majesty," The brown-eyed man paused again and stared off into the distance for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before he shook his head and looked back at Hadrian. "However, it also means that I, and you as my heir, have a great deal of enemies. For this reason we must be better, stronger and smarter than those who would seek to undo us."
"Like the Duke?" Hadrian asked, though he really did not want to think about his great-uncle. Vincent nodded and sighed as he rubbed at his smooth shaven jaw.
"Yes, Henry has been a thorn in my side for a long time. He has sought to undermine my work since my father died, but it is not yet time for you to worry yourself about that man," The Earl grimaced slightly then waved his hand dismissively. "From today on, I will be teaching you all you need to know to take over for me, and in the years to come Ciel will join us in case something happens to both of us down the line."
"Is that likely Father?" Hadrian asked quietly. The thought that his little brother would fall into the dark world his father described left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Yes," Vincent replied, his face twisted into a mask of sadness and regret. "I had three older brother and each parished either due to your grandfather's training or because they failed to take their work seriously. We can only do so much, however, and if the worst comes then Ciel must be able to bare the weight of our sins as well as his own."
Hadrian frowned, an image of little Ciel playing with their mother danced in his mind. Silently he swore he would do his best to protect them, to save them from the darkness that it seemed was his birth right. Behind him the shadows laughed, after all: once a hero, always a hero.
~0~
November 30, 1880
Vincent frowned slightly as he watched his son move through the sword work his tutor had assigned. The boy moved almost perfectly, like he had been doing the exercises for years instead of a few months. That is not to say that he had expected anything less from Hadrian, but it was still unnerving. The boy was scarily good at just about anything he tried his hand at and seemed to know things that only an adult should.
The Earl suspected that it had something to do with the boy's ability to see into people's darkness. It was as if he was pulling a person's experiences along with their memories and did that not leave Vincent shaking. To know that his son, his precious Hadrian, was seeing the cruelty of the world first hand made him feel sick.
He had hoped to spare his children the role of Guard Dog, but Henry's appearance had been a not so subtle reminder that the Phantomhives would always be trapped by their title. However as he watched Hadrian dance across the floor, rapier in hand, he could feel the noose of his deeds closing in around his neck. Vincent knew that he was living on the Queen's time, had been since he had taken on the title of earl, and any one of his enemies could end his life at any moment.
Those thoughts had been haunting him since his birthday and he had already begun drawing up the proper documents to ensure that neither of his boys ended up in the care of Henry or the crown. Her Majesty would be most displeased with him, but he knew that it was for the best. Vincent wanted to make sure that if something happened to both him and Rachel that his sons would be taken care of.
Hadrian stopped moving, bending forward and leaning against his knees as he took great deep breaths. Vincent clapped loudly from his place slightly hidden behind a pillar causing the boy to startle. Cold green eyes and a rapier flashed in the sun that filtered into the room.
"Well done my son." Vincent exclaimed as he pushed off the wall and started toward Hadrian.
"Father," The boy's eyes softened and the sword point dropped to the ground. The brown-eyed man could not help but notice that all signs of fatigue had vanished, leaving Hadrian standing back straight balanced perfectly on his feet. It left Vincent feeling both proud and sad. "I did not see you there."
"That was the point," Vincent laughed as he ruffled the boy's sweaty hair. He was glad he still had stuff to teach his son. "One day you will be able to tell when someone enters a room, even if you are not looking."
~0~
February 2, 1881
Hadrian sat straight backed as the carriage rolled toward London. He and his father were on their way to the city because of a string of murders. Vincent had not wanted to involve him but the Queen had suggested it. The fact that Victoria knew that his father was training him left him slightly uneasy.
Not that Hadrian held any ill will toward the woman, there was just something about the thought of her that sent a chill up his spine. However with his magic as weak and wild as it was, it was more likely a false positive then true foresight. Still to know that the Queen was keeping such close tabs on his family upset him.
He was pulled from his thoughts when the carriage came to a rocky stop. The driver alighted from the box and opened the door. Snow fluttered gently into the velvet interior and darkening the blue fabric. Marcus stepped out first followed by Vincent and Hadrian; the butler glanced back and forth, his hand subtly tucked into his coat pocket.
The boy looked up at the strange building, a tiny gray thing that seemed to both stand out and fade into the background. The sign read Undertaker, and coffins lined the walls. Hadrian felt his heart skip a beat; he had not forgotten the odd man who was his, whose name was blazin across the sign.
"Wait out here Marcus, and make sure no one enters." His father stated, the servant nodded and took up a post at the door. Hadrian followed behind as Vincent entered the building. The inside was stuffy and cluttered, with coffins and other funeral paraphernalia scattered about. He looked up to see his father holding a handkerchief to his nose in a show of disgust at the filth around them.
"Welcome Lord Phantomhive," A voice echoed through the room making it impossible to tell where the person was. At least that would have been true for anyone but someone who shared a bond with them; so Hadrian knew where Undertaker was. He stepped from his father's side, barely missing being caught by the man's hand, and walked right up to one of the coffins. He lifted the lid and sure enough the strange Undertaker lounged inside. "And ter ya as 'ell Lil' Master." (1)
"Undertaker, will you please come out of there." Vincent asked as he pulled Hadrian back and slightly behind him with an odd look.
"Of course," The mortician explained as he heaved himself from the fabric lined box. He shook himself briefly, his braided silver hair flying everywhere, before scuttling across the shop to the front desk. Hadrian could feel those oddly colored eyes on him as he followed behind his father. Undertaker held out a small urn to him that smelled faintly of cinnamon. "Wif the bloomin' Lil' Master loike a cookie?" (2)
The boy waited a moment to catch his father's nod out of the corner of his eye before reaching for the urn. When he opened it he was only slightly surprised to find bone shaped ginger snaps inside. Hadrian plucked one of the cookies from the bunch and handed the jar back with a quiet thank you.
"Now, let us get on to business, shall we?" The Earl said as he pulled a folder from his long jacket.
"Wot can I 'elp ya wif?" (3) The silver-haired man asked as he too took a cookie and bit into it with a grin. Vincent flinched ever so slightly at the sickening crack given off by the confection but set the file on the counter and, after flipping through it a moment, held out a sheet to the other. "Ya callin' abaht the young Lydy Scott then?" (4)
"Yes," Vincent replied, he placed a hand on Hadrian's shoulder as the boy popped the forgotten cookie into his mouth. "What can you tell me about her cause of death?"
"Bullet is wot took 'er," (5) Undertaker said as he chewed thoughtfully on his cookie. Hadrian could feel those fluorescent green eyes follow his every move even as the man spoke to his father. "Missin' 'er pretty face wite na she is." (6)
"Enough man," Vincent hissed as he tried to hide Hadrian as if to keep the boy from listening to the other. The boy just calmly evaded his attempts and crowded closer to the counter. The mortician smiled, teeth flashing in laughter, as one haunting eye peeked from behind silver locks. "Can you not behave like a civilized Englishman?"
"Where would the fun be in that?" Undertaker said in perfectly polished Queen's English. He smirked and chomped into another cookie. "Na Scapa Fla ya 'ave wot ya came for." (7)
"Payment?" Vincent asked with a grimace.
"Consider pages in full." (8) The silver haired man replied as he handed another ginger snap to Hadrian. The Earl's grimace turned into a dark frown and he gripped the green-eyed boy tightly by the shoulder before leading him out of the shop to the other's loud laughter. Hadrian could not help looking over his shoulder as every fiber in his being want to stay but he let himself be dragged into the back of the carriage.
"I never want you to be alone with that man, is that understood?" Hadrian could hear the slight tremor in his father's voice as the man spoke.
"As you say, Father," The green-eyed boy responded with a minute head nod.
A/N Translations - Please pardon if something is wrong I am working off a translator.
1 - And ter ya as 'ell Lil Master - And to you as well little Master
2 - Wif the bloomin' Lil Master loike a cookie - Would the little Master like a cookie
3 - Wot can I 'elp ya wif - What can I help you with
4 - Ya callin' abaht the young Lydy Scott then - You calling about the young Lady Scott then
5 - Bullet is wot took 'er - Bullet is what took her
6 - Missin' 'er pretty face wite na she is - Missing her pretty face right now she is
7 - Na Scapa Fla ya 'ave wot ya came for - Now leave you have what you came for
8 - Consider pages in full - Consider payment in full