Chapter Two- Of Threats and Regrets

Dinner was a long and awfully tense affair that evening.

The dining room had been plagued with an overbearing atmosphere, a certain air of oppressiveness weighing down upon all its occupants. Nary a sound was heard, with the occasional exception of the slight tinkering of cutlery as the host's unwanted guest eagerly dug in, slicing through his sirloin steak with utmost ease. Roderich's own food had yet to be touched, his hands instead folded neatly on his lap, his eyes glaring down at the seemingly succulent meal before him. It both looked and smelled delicious, and yet the Austrian musician had long since lost his appetite.

He could hear someone fidget about in their chair, involuntarily causing it to scrape against the floor, followed by hushed mutters. Roderich had no doubt that it was one of the brats the foppish fool had brought along with him, and he vaguely wondered why they had even been coaxed into dining with a complete stranger when they could have just eaten in the kitchens, where they would have had half a dozen maids toiling after them.

A rather deliberate cough cut through the macabre-like silence as swiftly as a knife carved through cake.

Mauve-coloured eyes lifted slightly to meet those of Romulus Vargas, who was seated at the opposite end of the ridiculously long dining table, and eyeing the young aristocrat with barely suppressed intrigue. Roderich cocked a dark eyebrow, to which Vargas smiled.

"I fear I may have eaten a little too quickly," his chocolate-brown eyes twinkled mirthfully, "This is quite delectable. You'll have to thank your cooks for me."

"You can thank them yourself."

Vargas chuckled, "Ah, you are such a comical fellow," as if to prove an utter contradiction to that statement, Roderich regarded him through half-lidded eyes, his facial expression the very image of unamusement as his eyebrow twitched menacingly. Vargas didn't seem to notice this, instead pointing out, "Oh, but I see you haven't so much as touched a thing on your plate! Won't you try it?"

Roderich resisted the urge to snap a retort. There was something about the way Vargas spoke to him, something that eerily resembled condescension, as if he were the guest and Vargas, the host.

"I'm afraid it isn't quite to my taste," a bitter smile, "I'm more of a fish person myself."

A lie, of course; there were few types of fish that Roderich tolerated, let alone liked, and he did rather hold an affinity for fine meat (although generally preferred the vegetarian lifestyle, much to the astonishment of his peers). Of course, such trivial details would be unimportant to Vargas, and as such he need never know.

Vargas shot him a dubious look, "Oh, surely you don't believe that. It tastes absolutely heavenly, I am certain you'll find it to your liking-"

"I'd rather not." Roderich interjected, an underlying sense of impatience seeping through his words.

Vargas had the grace to look flabbergasted, "Why, you've barely eaten anything at all."
"The soup was more than enough for me." Roderich forced a cold smile, his eyes sharp as they bored holes into Vargas' head.

Vargas watched him indecisively for a moment, as if unsure of what to say, before rolling a shoulder back in a half-shrug.

"A pity, that such a delicious meal has gone to waste." he relented regretfully, leaning backwards so that his back came into contact with the velvet padding of his ornate chair.

"I'm sure the hounds will appreciate it." Roderich informed coolly, much to Vargas' amusement.

"You have hounds?" he inquired, the evident curiosity present in his tone of voice but a mere semblance of genuineness.

"What sort of patrician would I be if I didn't?" Roderich countered in a vaguely bored manner.

"You'll have to show them to me some day. I'm sure the children will be well-acquainted with them soon enough." Vargas winked, although a tint of regret marred his statement. Roderich's teeth slowly grit together as one of said children's breath hitched and the other's hands clenched around fistfuls of tablecloth. It was clear to even someone as aloof as Roderich that they already knew of their alleged grandfather's intentions.

"I should think not." Roderich dabbed his mouth with a napkin, despite such an action being completely unnecessary.

"You do not intend for them to meet your dogs?"

Roderich briefly mulled over his response, parting his lips to reply, "Surely one as wise and experienced as yourself would know that it is little more than excoriable to permit children as young as these to go frolicking near hounds trained from birth to attack anyone other than myself and their caretaker."

Vargas scrutinised him for a while, watching him through emotionless eyes as he uttered, "But of course. How silly of me."

And with that, he went back to his dinner, indelicately stabbing his fork into a piece of steak and bringing it up to his slightly chapped lips, allowing it to brush over them before plopping it into his mouth.

Roderich's slowly narrowing eyes shifted to one of the two children seated on either side of the wealthy Italian, only to be regarded with a wary look in kind. Despite himself, Roderich found himself staring intently at the young child, the one whom he presumed to be the boy. The boy- Lovino, was it?- seemed to glower at him in a feeble attempt at hiding his obvious fear. Roderich merely glared back, his facial features giving no indication of his true emotions.

"Herr Edelstein?"

Roderich's attention snapped back to Vargas, who had been observing the muted interaction between his grandson and Roderich.

"Forgive me if I am mistaken," Vargas drawled, a pondering frown etched upon his face, "but if memory serves me right, you have two younger brothers, do you not?"

Roderich's jaw clenched, his stare morphing into a suspicious one, "I do."

"May I inquire as to where they are?"

"I dare say you'll find you can..." Roderich trailed off, his lips pursed to form a rigid line.

Vargas raised two hands so that they were level with his shoulders, his palms half-facing Roderich as he questioned, "After all, it does seem a bit odd that your brothers would not be dining with you. How old are they? Six and... twelve, was it?"

"Fourteen." Roderich corrected through gritted teeth.

Vargas failed to hide his shock, "Already?"

Roderich's upper lip curled into a snarl, but he remained silent.

"But perhaps the elder has taken- Ludwig, yes?" Roderich jerked his head forward slightly in confirmation, prompting Vargas to continue, "Perhaps he has taken Ludwig out to dine with him?"

Roderich suppressed a snort; he highly doubted that Basch would ever waste his oh-so-precious time with a six-year-old, regardless of whether or not said child was his brother. Ludwig was probably off somewhere with his governess, and who knows what Basch was up to. Not willing to relay this to Vargas, however, Roderich merely responded with a detached, "Perhaps."

"You mean you don't know?" Vargas' gaze indicated at a pointed accusation, much to Roderich's chagrin. He was about to brusquely question the man on what he was implying before suddenly coming to the brief realisation that this may just be the opportunity he was waiting for.

This was his chance to dissuade Vargas.

"Exactly," at Vargas' surprised countenance, Roderich pressed on, "It is of no business of mine what my brothers decide to do in their free time."

"Of which the youngest one is six." Vargas stressed.

"He has a governess." Roderich defended half-heartedly. Vargas eyed him for a moment, calculating, before realisation seemed to dawn on him. He smiled, feigning aloofness.

"Oh well, if he has a governess, I suppose that makes it acceptable." he conceded, finally laying off on that particular subject before moving on, "How well are they getting along with their studies?"

"Studies...?"

"Yes, studies. I'm very interested to know how well they're doing."

Roderich cocked a brow, "Ludwig's six."

"And you haven't put him to work yet?" Vargas queried incredulously.

"He is of noble blood. He has no need of work."

"But surely an educated man such as yourself would see to it that your brother himself is educated-"

"And I will," Roderich sipped at his wine, "When he comes of age."

Vargas clearly didn't think much of Roderich's logic, "Surely at six years old one is old enough to receive an education?"

"Surely," Roderich uttered coolly, "It is none of your business how I treat the subject of my brothers' education."

Vargas frowned, pondering, "Forgive me if I come off as impolite, but you don't seem to hold much fondness for your brothers."

Not for the first time that day, Roderich suppressed a snort, "Believe me, Signore, if you knew my brothers, you wouldn't be all too fond of them either."

"Hmm." Vargas resumed cutting into his steak, posing, "And do you take sufficient care of them?"

Roderich couldn't help the spark of rage he felt at Vargas' clear accusation. How dare that man pose such a disgusting question, as if he felt Roderich was inept to look after his own siblings?

Yet again, however, Roderich saw his opportunity and seized it.

"I have servants for that." he informed bitterly.

Vargas' dark eyes flickered up from his steak, "That you do, but for how much longer?"

Roderich stared at him in silence, his jaw clenching slightly. His financial issues had been a touchy subject as of late, and he certainly neither had the will nor the patience to tolerate Vargas' comments on the matter.

Eyes going back to his untouched meal, Roderich opted not to respond, instead daintily picking up his knife and fork and cutting through his meat.

~.~.~.~.~

Face clouded with mild irritation, Roderich stalked off down the hall, muttering incoherent curses under his breath. He occasional stopped in front of every other door, peering inside to check if it was indeed the room he was looking for, only to frown in disappointment when he found that it wasn't. Setting off in any which direction, Roderich wandered from place to place, at the very least seeking out one of the staff members for directions.

It was only by chance that he came upon the kitchens, after having descended into the lower levels of the manor, and was instantly overcome with the need to ask the cooks where he could find the lounge. Upon entrance, he was met with a very peculiar sight indeed.

He had certainly never expected to see Romulus Vargas, in all his ethereal glory, engaging himself in petty conversation with one of the staff members.

"-illing to provide me with a recipe? I must say, I enjoyed that dessert more than I'd care to admit." at the chef's hesitance, Vargas prompted, "I shall pay quite a hefty fee, if that is what you are so concerned about."

When the chef seemed to consider his solicitation, Roderich deemed it necessary to announce his presence.

"Signore, may I inquire as to what you are doing in my kitchen?"

The chef and his compeers all straightened up, greeting, "Herr Edelstein."

Roderich inclined his head in acknowledgement at the cooks before turning back to Vargas, cocked eyebrow in place.

"Why, I'm merely here to offer my compliments to the chef." Vargas offered him an incandescent smile.

"I see..." Roderich realised that he could not, in the face of this dilemma, ask where he could find the lounge of his own home in front of his late father's rival.

"I was just questioning this young fellow on whether or not he'd care to give me his recipe."

Roderich cocked his head to the side, staring intently at the chef, "And would you?"

The chef seemed hesitant, although he later shook his head in the negative upon noting his employer's darkened eyes.

Roderich appeared to approve, although the same could not be said for Vargas.

The elder Italian tutted, "What a shame. And I would have paid quite a bit for it, too."

Some of the cooks inconspicuously shot the chef looks of disappointment.

"Did you want something, sir?" the chef asked in German, pointedly ignoring the glares he received from his fellow cooks.

"Directions to my lounge, if you please." Roderich replied coolly, his eyes still trained on Vargas. The chef, more than used to Roderich's odd tendency to ask for directions, hastily told Roderich where the lounge could be found, Roderich hanging on to his every word.

"Thank-you." Roderich promptly thanked before excusing himself, turning on his heel and exiting the kitchens. He strode up the winding little staircase, panting a little when he reached the top (he wasn't exactly the energetic type). He followed the directions as best he could, until he hit a stump when he came to a sort of fork. Roderich narrowed his eyes. The chef hadn't mentioned he'd come across a three-way corridor.

Quite suddenly, the young aristocrat found that he couldn't quite recall the chef's following commands. Glowering slightly, Roderich once more turned on his heels and departed, marching at a significantly quicker pace. His head bowed low and his eyes downcast, Roderich walked so fast that he didn't notice a man emerge from one of the rooms, and promptly crashed into him. The impact hadn't been so hard, as Roderich hadn't quite yet picked up a run, but it was enough so that his nose started smarting in pain whilst the other man was shoved backwards slightly, attempting to regain his balance.

"Watch where you're going!" Roderich scowled, believing the man to be nothing more than a clumsy servant.

"If I recall correctly, it was you who bumped into me..." Vargas' voice filled the almost-empty corridor as the man straightened up, revealing the elder Italian in all his prime.

Roderich's lour did not dissipate, "Tell me Signore, do you make a habit out of appearing at the most inopportune times?"

Vargas chuckled, "Only when I truly need to."

Roderich harrumphed, "And you are in this particular corridor because...?"

"I've been waiting for you in the lounge, hoping we could discuss what we previously had a little more, but you were nowhere to be found. So naturally I left to come seek you out, but as it is, there was no need. You were able to find me perfectly fine all by yourself." Vargas' tone bordered on patronisation, but Roderich deigned not to remark on it.

Roderich pointed a long index finger at the door, "Do you mean to tell me that this is the lounge?"

Vargas frowned, "Of what I am aware..."

Roderich's face only hardened, "And why, pray tell, did you desire to see me now? We could have clearly spoken about this at a later-"

"I am afraid that we must speak of this immediately."

Roderich paused, unblinking, "Is there any particular reason or do you simply have somewhere to be?"

Vargas smiled, "As a matter of fact, I do have to get back soon enough, and I would greatly appreciate it if the children were to stay here tonight."

Roderich's eyebrows shot up as he echoed, "Tonight?"

"Let's take this inside, shall we?" Vargas reopened the door and stepped aside, waiting for Roderich to enter with an outstretched hand.

Expression completely blank, Roderich entered the room with silent steps, almost floating inside. He could hear Vargas close the door as he came in behind him. The aristocrat made a beeline for one of the armchairs, sinking into it when he reached his destination.

"Have a seat, Signore." Roderich offered coolly, attempting to regain his authority as the host.

"Thank-you." Vargas thanked and lowered himself onto one of the velvet-lined sofas, his back gratefully melding with the couch, "Tell me, mein Herr," Vargas chirped suddenly, "How does a man get so easily lost in his own home?"

Roderich fought the blush that he felt tint his cheeks, replying simply, "I merely had too much on my mind. I suppose that in itself subconsciously affected my memory."

Vargas didn't seem convinced, but cocked his head to the side all the same, querying, "And what is it that weighed so heavily upon your mind that you would forget where to find but a simple lounge?"

Roderich didn't think much of his wording, but responded with a deep inhale, "I can honestly say, Signore Vargas, that I have given much thought to your proposition."

Vargas seemed pleased at this admittance, "And where is it that you stand?"

Roderich's oddly-coloured eyes flickered up to meet Vargas' brown ones, "I have given you my answer and have decided to stick by it."

Vargas' smile faltered, "...I'm sorry?"

"I have taken into account your little threat, and realise that, though my financial state has hit rock bottom, your once-vast influence is rapidly dissipating, and I can easily disperse your faulty rumours. You see," Roderich stood, drawing himself up to his full height to make himself appear as imposing as possible, "I do not take threats lightly."

Vargas grew sombre, "They need a place to go-"
"And that place is not here." Roderich hissed through gritted teeth, startling the elder man.

"I can give you money," Vargas claimed, ignoring Roderich's snort of derision, "Do not pretend you have no need of it."

"Have I not told you before, Signore, that I am in no need of your petty charity?"

"It is not charity if you are doing me a favour in return." Vargas stressed, his desperation slipping through his once-cheerful mask.

"Charity or not, it would be an insult to my family if I were to willingly take the money of the man who played a vital role in my father's disappearance."

At Vargas' look of incredulity, Roderich smirked darkly.

"Did you honestly think I would be so blind as to not know?"

Vargas' eyes were impossibly enlarged, his face a deathly pale as he seemed to struggle coming up with the proper words, successfully rendered speechless, "I... I- how?"

Roderich's smirk widened by a fraction, "Whether my father is truly dead or not, I will never know. As his body was never found, and as dear Gilbert has... left us," Roderich fought the smile that he felt creeping up on his face, "I am the ruling Lord of Beilschmidt manor, regardless of whose name I chose to keep. And as a lord, it would be most unwise and cowardly of me to succumb to idle threats, threats that are not backed up with the reliable and concrete evidence needed for such accusations." Roderich took great pleasure in Vargas' haunted silence, continuing, "What you must know, Signore, is that I am not a man so easily controlled by others, despite your obvious beliefs. Should you dare spread that ghastly falsehood, I will not hesitate to exact my revenge in kind."

Vargas' face coloured, his eyes practically bulging from their sockets, "Are you threatening me?!"

….And there it was, that famous Vargas anger he had heard so much about. He had never before been blessed to see it, but it seemed the odds were in his favour after all.

Roderich smiled, "And if I am?"

Vargas glared, glared with so much contempt and hatred that the prideful Roderich almost cringed.

Almost.

"You are a despicable being, Edelstein."

Roderich was inclined to agree, "That I am. And what of it? Do you really wish to condemn your grandchildren to a life with such a 'despicable being'?"

"Of course I do not wish it!" Vargas snapped, a slight waver in his voice, "I have no choice! Your protection is what's best for them-!"

"And if you spread those rumours, they will have none." Roderich levelled Vargas with a glower of his own, "Either way, you lose."

Vargas seethed, "You don't need to take care of them yourself, there are enough maids who are more than up to the task for it! All I ask is that they are kept in this household, with the Beilschmidt family to protect them should any harm befall them. That is all. You need not get attached, need not bother with them, need not even so much as speak to them, if you so wish it, but I merely ask that they remain under your protection." Vargas stared at Roderich like a lost child, "Does that really trouble you as much as you insist it does?"

Roderich watched Vargas intently, scanning him up and down. He gazed into Vargas' beseeching eyes, narrowing his own slightly at the blatant show of weakness. How pathetic it was that the once mighty Romulus Vargas, the most powerful man in Central Europe, had been degraded to such a snivelling, piffling weakling. Roderich didn't say anything for quite some time, instead opting to let silence be his answer. However, Vargas didn't seem to be catching on, and so Roderich parted his lips to reply, "Yes."

Vargas' jaw slackened.

Roderich continued, "Yes, it does trouble me. Do you not think I have more things to worry about than two little snots running around the mansion?"

"Please."

"No. No, I do not accept your proposition."

Vargas' eyes narrowed into slits, "I am going to give you one more chance. Just one more. If you decline my solicitation, if you turn them away, I promise that I will make you regret it."

Roderich cocked a brow, "I am most amused by your admittedly bothersome persistence, but my answer remains the same. My, you really do need to learn to accept that not everything will sway your way simply because you so command it to do so. Learn to mature, won't you, my lord?"

This seemed to be the last straw for Vargas.

"How dare you! How dare you speak to me in such a way!"

"And how dare you, you who dares blackmail me inside my own home!" Roderich glowered, raising his voice a little.

"Your home?" Vargas echoed incredulously, sneering mirthfully, "You, who keep the Edelstein name, dare call the Beilschmidt estate your home? You, the child who should have never been, the black sheep of the family, the sole brunet in a household of blonds, dare presume that you are truly a part of this once-mighty family?"

"Just what are you insinuating, Vargas?" Roderich snarled, having long since thrown courtesy out the window when dealing with this man.

"Insinuating something? Me? No, I am not insinuating anything. I am merely stating a fact, and the fact is that this manor should have never been yours-"

"What do you care?" Roderich snapped, "You hold nothing but contempt for my family, and played a part in my father's subsequent death! You ought to be rotting in jail, and you would be, if it wasn't from your filthy money! This manor is mine by right, and it is most certainly not your place to tell me anything otherwise inside the home of my forefathers. You know nothing, Signore Vargas!"

Vargas ignored him, visibly peeved, "The manor should have been left with Basch and Ludwig as sole benefactors, not you, the illegitimate spawn of a whore-!"

Roderich's eyes all but bulged from their sockets, so wide that they aided in the formation of a truly terrifying and morbid visage, one only heard of in horror novels as he uttered, in an eerie, breathless whisper, "Get out."

"-this should have been Gilbert's property, not the mansion of a bastard-borne 'aristocrat' who doesn't deserve-"

"Get out!" Roderich ordered more forcefully, a slight quaver in his voice. Vargas stopped, caught himself just in time, and stared at Roderich, not daring to believe the words that had just emerged from his mouth.

"Herr Edelstein... I-"

"OUT!" Roderich roared with sweltering fury, his bellow reverberating off the walls. Vargas' eyes widened at the sheer volume, not having known the extent of the full impact his words would have on the significantly younger man. He had no regrets, did not take back a single word of what he had said (for it was the truth), but at the same time, he had only said it for the sake of his grandchildren, and not out of baseless spite like the boy surely thought.

His anger briefly returning at the thought of Feliciana and Lovino, Vargas warned darkly, "You are going to regret this, Edelstein."

And with that being said, Vargas swept past him and opened the door, shutting it in silent anger as he promptly departed. Roderich stared at the wall in front of him blankly, slowly slinking back down into the armchair with an undignified plop. He placed his elbows on his knees and buried his head in his arms, his mauve-coloured eyes locked on the carpet beneath him.

He stayed in that position for a good while, unsure of how many hours he had spent there, doing nothing. A soft rap on the door briefly snapped him out of his reverie, his head lifting slightly as someone entered with light, dainty footsteps.

"Herr Edelstein?" Elizaveta's voice filled his ears soothingly, and Roderich turned his head to face her.

"Fraülein Hédérváry." Roderich greeted solemnly.

Her face mellowed out, "Mein Herr, I've been looking everywhere for you," she took in her surroundings, "May I inquire as to what you are doing here? I'd have thought you'd be in the music room. Wait a second," a suspicious glance, "you didn't get lost again, did you?"

In spite of himself, Roderich could not stop the huff of amusement that escaped him, "No, not this time. I've just had a little chat with Signore Vargas."

Elizaveta did not fail to detect the resentment and acerbity in her employer's voice. She frowned, "That's odd. I had actually just come to inform you that Signore Vargas has left the premises, and bids his gift will make you reconsider... whatever that means."

Gift? Roderich wanted to order the destruction of whatever this 'gift' was, but instead focused on something else.

"He's only now just left?"

Elizaveta smiled bitterly, "He wished to bid his goodbyes to the children."

Roderich nodded in understanding, turning away from her slightly.

"You did a good thing, mein Herr. It was a most generous act, taking in those young kinder, and I'm sure the young master Ludwig will be pleased to have some new playmates-"

Roderich gave a noncommittal hum, gazing straight ahead and drowning out her voice as she twittered on about something or other. It was only when her words had fully registered in his mind that he did a double-take.

"What?" he questioned with a sharp intake of air.

"-and if you're worried about how you're supposed to act accordingly as a guardian, well, just look at Ludwig and Basch, how well they've turned out, and know that you have a whole staff who would be more than pleased to aid you with any child-rearing necessary-"

"Fraülein Hédérváry, forgive me for the impolite intrusion, but what on earth are you blabbering on about?"

Elizaveta blinked, her smile faltering ever-so-slightly, "Well... you know... about your agreement to offering asylum to those two Vargas children."

"What agreement?"

Realisation quickly dawned over his face, and a deep glower wormed its way onto his visage.

Elizaveta frowned, "Sir...?"

Roderich gritted his teeth together, "That malevolent son-of-a-whore!"

Elizaveta appeared aghast at such improper use of language from her usually mild-tempered, well-spoken employer, "Herr Edelstein!"

"Fraülein Hédérváry, I must ask that you remain calm. We shall be rid of this ghastly situation soon enough, I assure you-"

"Mein Herr, wha-"

"Fraülein Hédérváry, would you be so kind as to show me which room these 'children' are occupying?" Roderich demanded out of the blue.

Elizaveta stuttered, "S-sir?"
Roderich stood upright in one quick, swift movement, already striding towards the door.

"Sir, I'm afraid I don't understand!"

Roderich's facial expression softened at the clueless expression etched upon Elizaveta's face and he elaborated, "I never agreed to Vargas' proposition, no matter what the sneaky dodger may claim, but it seems that this simple fact did nothing to deter the old fool from abandoning his 'grandchildren'. It appears I have no other choice but to return them to their rightful place, and if Vargas is too much of a malignant ingrate to accept them back, then we must entrust them to social services."

Elizaveta looked scandalised, "But sir-!"

"There is nothing we can do for them. You know just as well as I that this is no place for children," Roderich looked back at her a little sombrely, "Now, the chambers?"

Elizaveta nodded uneasily, brushing past Roderich and leading him up a few flights of stairs. The walk seemed to take an eternity, and it gave Roderich ample time to eye the slight jiggling Elizaveta's buttocks made as she sauntered forwards, her emerald eyes locked on something straight ahead. It was both captivating and hypnotising at the same time, the light bouncing her rear end made with each step she took, and no matter how hard he tried, Roderich found that he just could not look away. It was impossible to divert his attention, and Roderich could not fathom why he simply could not stop staring. Not that he was some sort of pervasive debauchee, of course! He just liked to admire beauty in all its forms...

They soon reached their destination and Roderich's eyes darted as far from Elizabeta as possible, staring past her to see a dark, oaken door sporting a large, brass doorknob. Elizabeta hesitated when they reached it, her hand on the doorknob as she tentatively grasped it.

"Sir, I- I have to know," she turned to face him, and Roderich soon found that she had trapped his eyes in an ensnaring staring competition, "What do you intend to do with them as of now?"

Roderich's eyebrows shot up, "I beg your pardon?"

"Please, mein Herr, tell me why you want to see them," Elizaveta spoke softly, almost pleading. Roderich didn't reply, merely gazing at her in stunned silence. Elizaveta misinterpreted his silence and took it as a bad sign, "No. No, please don't tell me you're going to do what I think you are."

Roderich queried quietly, "And what is it that you think I will do to them?"

Elizaveta shook her head, "Please don't throw them out. They're just toddlers, and it's far too late in the night to ever permit them to leave- tell me you aren't going to dump them at their grandfather's estate at this ungodly time?"

Roderich struggled to assure her, "You know I would never so much as fathom such a thing-"

"But why else would you want to see them?" the confusion was evident in Elizabeta's tone, a concerned frown etched upon her pretty visage, "If not to expel them from your home, why-"

Elizaveta stopped at the hands that were placed on either forearm, her green eyes boring holes into Roderich's purplish ones.

"Calm yourself, Fraülein Hédérváry. I merely wish to see them. Just to be sure..."

Staring at him a while longer, Elizaveta continued to eye him warily before giving off a slow nod of understanding, hurrying to open the door, pushing it forwards as slowly and quietly as possible. Light flooded the darkened room to land on a pair of toddlers slumbering peacefully in a single bed, huddled close together for warmth. Both Roderich and Elizaveta observed them through watchful eyes, Elizaveta's green ones glowing slightly at the sight. A warm smile graced her face.

"They look so... tranquil."

She received no immediate reply, and Roderich merely stared at the Vargas pair, noting that the girl's head rested in the crook of the boy's neck, who in turn laid his head over her own. Roderich didn't fail to catch their intertwined hands, clutching each other with a certain, tired air of desperation. It didn't take long for Roderich to deduce that they must be rather close siblings, and he could feel Elizaveta beside him all but brimming with veneration.

"Yes... yes they do." Roderich finally concurred, turning his gaze back on Elizabeta, "Come. Let us leave them in peace."

Elizaveta flashed one last smile at the room before tentatively turning away, letting Roderich close the door behind them.

He would exact revenge on Vargas soon enough, and would definitely be sure to dump his grandchildren at his doorstep.

But for now, he would let the children sleep, let them drift away into a land not of this world, a world where dreams were a reality and where reality was but a mere, simple nightmare.

A/N: Hmm... not sure how this turned out. I just felt the need to update, because holy wow, I haven't updated in exactly five weeks now! There was actually something I wanted to address, so I'll do it now: the characters may be acting OOC, and if you feel that they are, please know that it is completely normal. At this point, I want to give them the chance to flourish and get a taste of character development to become the beloved characters we know (except not really, because this is an AU xD). Thank you all for the reviews/favourites/follows! Please tell me what you think so far, as feedback definitely helps both morale and chances of improvement (and I mean any kind of feedback). Thank-you for reading this, and until next time! :D