|
|
Post by Francis Bonnefoy on May 6, 2012 18:44:37 GMT -5
Francis could feel Arthur trembling again., and it wrenched at his heartstrings. With great care, he moved to lay them both on the bed. He did not let go.
"Shh." He tucked Arthur into the safety of his body. "I'm here."
It was then that Francis recalled one of his favorite lullabies, the one his mother used to sing to him and his sister to ease them into slumber. It was in the language of his family's homeland, a tongue Francis always loved for its poetic, legato quality.
Francis began to sing softly, a little shakily, but he continued on. "Cette chanson douce, je veux la chanter pour toi car ta peau est douce comme la mousse des bois..."
|
|
|
|
Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on May 7, 2012 16:59:40 GMT -5
Arthur clings for dear life to the other man, sniffling into his shirt. Miraculously, he seemed to calm.
The grief was exhausting him. It was exhausting him yet it still refused to let go. He whimpered, but the soft warmth of Francis and his scent and voice started to have it's spell on him.
A few minutes later he quietens, falling into a doze. He's just sniffling quietely to himself.
|
|
|
|
Post by Francis Bonnefoy on May 7, 2012 17:26:26 GMT -5
"La petite biche, ce sera toi, si tu veux. Le loup, on s'en fiche. Contre lui, nous serons deux..."
Francis never took his eyes off Arthur, and he followed the slow droop of the pirate's eyelids as he slid into sleep. But even though Arthur could no longer hear him, Francis continued to sing to the last word.
"Et dans les bras du beau chevalier, belle princesse elle est restée..."
The final note hovered in the air, as if still waiting to be blown away. Francis could feel it; it was weighed with the promise he gave to Arthur as he sang. As much as he wanted to lie down and stay with Arthur, he knew he couldn't.
His chest felt heavy as he untangled himself from Arthur's arms and shifted away slowly, quietly. As he stood, he couldn't help himself from dropping a kiss on Arthur's forehead.
"I'll be back."
After one last look at the sleeping pirate, Francis dressed himself in black and stole out of the room, out of the mansion, with one aim in mind. He only hoped that his search wouldn't be for nothing.
|
|
|
|
Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on May 8, 2012 15:52:47 GMT -5
Arthur didn't wake for some hours, not until daylight had reason. He had a rather uncomfortable sleep, not really sleeping at all, but yet not being awake. It was plagued of memories from the night before.
He shudders as his eyes flicker open and it takes him a few moments to figure out his disorientation. When everything comes back, tears come to his eyes.
He tilts his head up, and upon discovering no Francis, he whimpers and mumbles to himself, before, almost subconcsiously, grabbing the blanket at the end of the bed and crawling under the bed, trembling to himself. Francis had left him and he was all alone, all alone.
He closes his eyes, sniffing.
|
|
|
|
Post by Francis Bonnefoy on May 9, 2012 12:11:40 GMT -5
Francis had spent the remainder of the night and the next morning surveying the damage the fire left and then scouring the city to collect the surviving children. The innkeeper and his wife, who were miraculously unharmed (but shaken), had accepted Francis' offer to let them stay in his country manor for the time being.
Francis had thankfully found most of the children, some of whom had escaped to the other parts of the city, and the others returned to the streets they used to frequent to avoid the fire. Two of the children nearly ventured out of the city before Francis caught up with them. Overall, there were four children still missing, and Francis was determined to find them by nightfall.
The search had exhausted him, though, and he knew he had the children's safety and well-being to think of. He brought them to his manor by the back door, and as soon as the children stepped in, it was as if a spell had been cast over them. At first they stood still, awed, as they took in the splendor of the mansion. But as soon as Francis and his servants attended to their various scrapes and burns, they jumped up and began a game of hide-and-seek, using the enormity of the mansion as their playground.
Francis didn't mind. In fact, he encouraged them to explore while he himself donned his usual kind of clothes, even joining them for one round after he had rested enough. This was how all the children found Arthur.
Two giggling boys had entered Francis' room and dove under his bed, only to bump against a still figure. They instantly recognized the pirate, and their faces lit up as they called for the others to come to the room.
|
|
|
|
Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on May 9, 2012 16:05:38 GMT -5
Arthur was jolted out of his trembling daze as he felt small hands press on his back. It was both a wince of pain and surprise -- and he rolled out from under the bed to see who had done it.
When his eyes laid on the children, he froze, eyes widening. He didn't know how to respond -- he was somehow overwhelmed with shock and joy that at least some of the children had survived -- but knocked down with guilt and horror at their burns and scrapes, even though Arthur was mummified compared to the boys in front of him.
He couldn't face them. Not now, not ever.
Choking back a whimper, Arthur sprints out of the room, faster than any children could catch him, somewhere where none of the children would be able to find him.
He couldn't do it. He'd hurt them. He'd let them get hurt.
He curls up, and sobs to himself.
|
|
|
|
Post by Francis Bonnefoy on May 9, 2012 19:58:03 GMT -5
The children flooded into the room in shouts of excitement and curiosity just as Arthur rushed out. They stopped, staring in confusion. It was then that Francis arrived. He barely caught a glimpse of Arthur turning the corner before the pirate disappeared.
Before Francis could do anything, some of the children attempted to follow. Francis hurried to call them back to the rest of the little ones.
"My dears, why don't you continue your game? I'll have to bow out of this one, I'm afraid. I'm going to go to the captain, and see if he'd like to join us for the next round. How does that sound?"
Some of the children were unsure, but the enthusiasm of the others infected them quickly enough. They raced away, leaving Francis alone in the hallway, staring at them fondly. He shook his head and sighed, walking on.
At first, he wasn't sure where to start looking for Arthur, but Francis knew the pirate couldn't have gotten far. It came to Francis: somewhere small and dark - the closet at the end of the west wing. With renewed strength, Francis sprinted toward the closet, hoping he was right.
He was panting slightly when he reached it, knocking on the door tentatively.
"Arthur?" Francis felt a little of that hope fading. "It's - it's only me."
|
|
|
|
Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on May 10, 2012 10:10:08 GMT -5
A moment later, and Arthur's voice breaks out in sobs.
"I-I --- F-Francis---"
He blubbers, and pushes the door open, crawling and latching onto the other's legs. He's shaking.
"W-Why a-are they here -- w-why are t-they here -- they -t-they should hate m-me, they h-hate me-- I-I can't--- F-Francis-- I-I h-hurt--- F-Francis--"
He can't deal with much more. It was getting too much. He just wants peace.
|
|
|
|
Post by Francis Bonnefoy on May 10, 2012 16:26:42 GMT -5
Francis nearly stumbled when Arthur clung to his legs, but fortunately gripped the doorway to keep his balance. He closed his eyes, trying not to look at Arthur's pain, because he knew it would pierce into him too. But Francis had to open his eyes, because he needed to make Arthur listen to him.
"Arthur..." He lay a gentle hand on Arthur's head. Still gripping the doorway, Francis slid to sit on the floor. "Arthur, look at me."
Francis pulled Arthur off his legs, one finger at a time. He contemplated Arthur's hands in his for a while, remembering just how it easily they fit together. Even if they shouldn't now. With a sigh, Francis lifted his gaze to the pirate's.
"Now why would they hate you, Arthur?" he asked softly. "You did not set fire to the inn. You did not wish them harm. You are their champion and parent when no one else could be. You gave them your time and compassion, which are more precious than any bauble you can give them."
Francis could hear his heartbeat pounding furiously in his ears, but he surrendered. He pulled Arthur into his arms and kissed his cheek. "They will never hate you, nor are they under any obligation to hate you. None of this is your fault."
|
|
|
|
Post by Cpt. Arthur Kirkland on May 11, 2012 17:39:52 GMT -5
Arthur sniffles, hiding in the other's arms and clinging gently to his shirt, the scent and warmth of the Noble calming him. He shakes his head.
"B-But I-I -- I-It's m-my fault....."
He whimpers, hiding against Francis. There's a pause.
"T-There's champagne in in the cupboard...."
|
|
