Lament

The ground was soft. My head throbbed and my body ached, but I lay upon a soft ground. When I opened my eyes, however, I found that I was not laying on the ground like I'd imagined, but instead I was on a large bed with a matress made of goose-down. And this room was not one that was familiar. My body tensed with fear, where was I? My mother's eyes...no, not my mother's eyes; something much darker...they flashed in my head. I saw her bleeding and I heard the noises coming from her throat. It was not her, but the memory made me bury my head on the bed. Everything was crystal clear. I'd been so afraid that Alphonse had been captured and that Charles had used his blood to make a homunculi of my mother...but that thing was not my mother at all. What had happened...and why was Alphonse okay?

"Ah, the princess awakes." This voice was unfamiliar until I looked up. The voice belonged to the young man who had sat behind Alphonse at the opera, the one who had taken his place while he was away. "And you didn't even need to be kissed by your fair prince," the man drawled. "I can tell you're curious, so I'll tell you who I am. I'm Lord Blackpool's companion and accountant, Jeremy Potts." I nodded slowly with understanding. This man must handle Alphonse's affairs with his estate.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," I said, sitting up, hoping to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. This man wasn't especially pleasant and I wasn't exactly pleased to make his sardonic acquaintance. Mr. Potts only clicked his heels together.

"Truthfully, I'm a little curious as why His Lordship would want to help a little mousy thing like you. You're not very pretty." Mr. Potts frowned, as if appraising me.

"And you're not very nice." This caused Mr. Potts to laugh, but he said nothing. "I remember you giving me a note from Alphonse once. You seemed polite then. What happened?"

Mr. Potts looked away and did not seem at all inclined to answer. I sighed and opened my mouth to dismiss him when Alphonse stepped into the room. His worried face melted when he saw that I was awake, but then it clouded once more in anger when he realized Mr. Potts was with me. "Jeremy, I thought I told you not to bother her." His voice was clipped. It was then that Mr. Potts finally looked a little sheepish. He bowed lowly, mumbling something like an apology and left the room as quick as he could. Alphonse followed him with his gaze until he shut the door and then turned back to me. "He doesn't appreciate that I haven't told him anything about you. He doesn't like not being privy to my secrets."

"That makes two of us, then," I replied, doing my best not to meet his gaze. The last time we had talked alone, it had ended poorly indeed. I didn't feel like repeating that. "I think I should be getting home," I said to him.

Alphonse smiled a little. "It's almost three in the morning. I told the Landry's I'd take you back to your house and then I had a note delivered to...Lily that you'd be staying the night at the Landry's. So unless you want a doorstep wedding to me, you'd best just stay here for now."

"Are you trying to compromise my innocence?" I asked him, narrowing my eyes.

Alphonse raised an eyebrow. "I believe I already did," he pointed out. Heat rose to my cheeks. Then all the amusement drained out of his face. "If you'd like, I can have one of the maids draw up a bath for you. I'm sure you must feel..." he didn't finish that sentence.

"Oh." My words came out thick and I wished he would have finished speaking. I didn't know what he meant, but I wanted to. "Yes, that would be lovely, thank you." My words were forced. This entire conversation was forced. What happened before? Why aren't you dead? Why can't you tell me anything about where you were for the months you were away? Alphonse went to the bell-pull at the door and tugged once. A neat looking maid entered almost immedietly and Alphonse spoke to her in a low voice before she scuttled out again. But not before I caught the look she sent me. It was questioning, untrustworthy. Why did her master have a young society miss in his chambers, and why was she getting a bath for her at such a peculier hour?

At least, that's what I figured she must be thinking. This all must be very odd, and I doubted Alphonse would have explained the situation to the staff. I felt somewhat like a scarlet women and wished more than anything that I could be back in my own bed.

When Alphonse turned back towards me, our eyes caught for a moment before he looked to the low burning fire. We were silent the minutes it took for the maids to get my bath ready, and those minutes were torture. After what seemed like hours, the same neat maid emerged from the bathroom and bobbed a curtsy. "The water is ready, my Lord," she said and Alphonse nodded.

"If you could please help Miss Brighton undress, that would be most obliging." The maid looked at me for a moment with disdain in her eyes before she bobbed another curtsy. I stood up and followed her into the bath chamber, where she helped me untie my dress and corset stays. I could tell that she did not like me, for she wasn't exactly gentle as she pulled off the gown, the pelise and the undergarments. I noticed when the maid caught sight of the diamond engagement ring that Jules had given to me to replace his signet ring. I flushed and her eyes were dark. She carried my things out to Alphonse's room once more and I watched for a moment as she closed the door, but not all the way, before stepping into the tub.

The water was steaming hot and the tub was deep marble. There was some sort of floral oil in it which filled my nostrils with its spicy yet sweet scent. As my body got used to the water, I found myself relaxing. But after a few minutes, I found my brain once again whirring and ticking, like some kind of wind-up clock. I cleared my throat. "Alphonse?" I called tentatively, half hoping he wouldn't hear me.

"Yes?" I heard from his room.

I pulled my legs up to my chest and sunk my chin into the water. "Will you come here for a moment?"

It was as if I could hear him hesitate. When I saw his face at the crack in the door, he looked fearful. His hand rested at the doorknob, but finally he pushed it open just a little and slipped inside. It was then that I noticed he had changed from his earlier attire into a long white shirt and tan breeches, the kind of outfit he used to wear at Deathcreeke. He leaned against the wall and slid down to the marble tiling, where he crossed his legs and set his hands upon his knees. His face was tired, weary and full of something quite like desolation. He was once again the small, innocent boy I'd fallen in love with. "I'm sorry about the servants. I'm not very good with them." He looked at his hands and I saw that they were scarred and calloused - quite unlike before.

I quirked a grin. "On the contrary, they seem passionatley loyal to you. They detest me, that is for certain." At this, Alphonse scowled. "It's all right." My voice was soft, I was comforting him. Why? I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't allow him to be here. I should demand to go home at once - Lily would understand. I should at least keep a cool air about him, but my body trembled in the hot water. Seeing him like this made my heart ache down to my toes. It was almost unbearable. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to tell him that I loved him. "Alphonse..."

His head jerked up. "Faerie," he breathed. He slid closer to me and put his hand out. I unwrapped one of my hands from my knee and slid it out of the water, where it dripped onto the floor. Alphonse didn't mind when it dripped onto his bare lower leg. He grasped onto my fingers and my fingers only.

"Alphonse, you must tell me what happened."

He sighed and looked away. "I know." For one moment, everything was absolutely silent. Then he looked back to me, his dark eyes softening under the glow of the candles. "I followed my father all the way down England. For days and for nights I rode on and on, not stopping, not thinking, just doing. That was the worst time. I hardly knew who I was or what I was doing, I followed my instincts only. The only thoughts I had were of Lily being shot and Charles telling what he planned to do to you and your face as I rode away, somehow that rationalized it all. It was almost as if he was letting me catch up to him. Sometimes I'd see the flash of his horse ahead of me...I'd ask everyone I saw on the side of the road, I'd stop for a few moments at an inn and ask if they'd seen a dark haired man who looked like me riding by. Most said yes, so I knew I was right on his tail. I knew he was heading down to London. I thought I could catch up with him there, and I almost did.

"He rode on from London and I realized he was headed towards Dover to depart to France. He stopped in London and bought tickets for the first ship to Dunkerque, but I couldn't get tickets because I had no money," at this, Alphonse laughed at this, a private, ironic joke. "That day I paid a few of my father's business partners a visit, including his banker. I told him that who I was and that I'd been away at boarding school for most of my life and now needed some money. Thankfully I look so much like Charles that the man didn't doubt me for a moment. Lily, apparantley, had convinced Charles to set up an inheritence for me, money that I would come into as soon as I turned 18. He didn't think I would ever make it that long, but most likely did it to please my mother. Unfortunately, I now had lost Charles and couldn't board another ship until noon the next day. It was then, when I realized that I had nothing and nowhere to go that I finally started to feel foolish. I hadn't thought past finding him, hadn't thought that he'd go somewhere else besides London. I knew no one beyond you and my mother...but then I realized that this wasn't true.

"I paid your old friend Rupert Townshend a visit. When I told him who I was, he didn't seem at all inclined to help me out, but when I explained that if he did not house me for the night that I would go to the press about how he had tried to trick into marriage for your father's estate...well, of course he changed his mind."

At this, I raised an eyebrow. "But how would you have done this? You don't know where the press is, you know no one that works there and you didn't have the time..."

"I was bluffing, of course," chuckled Alphonse. "I've discovered that I'm not as terrible of an actor as I thought I was."

I thought of the way that I had seen him greet his guests, so full of life and confidence, and shuddered. "No," my mouth said, and I was not aware I'd spoken out loud until Alphonse looked at me. "No, you're not a terrible actor at all."

Alphonse tensed at this, but said nothing. "I awoke before dawn that morning, wrote a quick letter of thank you to Townshend and departed for the ship. The voyage was short but was the single most thrilling thing I'd done thus far. It was..." Alphonse's eyes shone when he thought of the voyage from Dover to Dunkerque, "...amazing." He cleared his throat. "I had lost a day, however, and was now lost as to where Charles was. I moved towards Paris, hoping I could find someone there, but my knowledge of French was poor, even with what Charles taught me when I was younger. I decided I'd try my best to keep myself positive, hoping that by staying optimistic would lead me to Charles."

"Did it work?" I asked.

"No, of course not," Alphonse said. I realized that he still held my hand within his and that he was rubbing my fingers in circular patterns. I hadn't noticed the feeling before, but now that I did, I found it very soothing. Alphonse focused on that for a few moments and I yawned against my will. The opera had ended late and I'd only been out for a couple hours. I didn't usually get this little sleep. I was a lady, after all. And a lady needed her beauty rest. "Oh," Alphonse said. "How rude of me, of course, you must be exhausted and here I am, telling you this story."

"I want to hear the rest," I protested. "But maybe tomorrow."

Alphonse stood to leave to let me dress in peace and he dropped my hand. I swallowed. "Do you...think you could hold out that robe for me?" I questioned. Surprise flickered through Alphonse's eyes but he obliged me, opening out the towel and turning his face so he couldn't see. I stood up letting some of the excess water drip off me before I stepped out and pulled the soft robe around me. "You can look now." My voice was almost inaudible. Alphonse turned his head and I saw an unreadable expression in his eyes.

Oh, he must think me so fickle. To be marrying one man but trying to seduce another. No, no, I wasn't trying to seduce Alphonse; the word was ridiculous. I didn't want to hurt him, I didn't want to cause him pain, but this all seemed so right. Like it would be strange not to act like this.

"Faerie." Alphonse's voice was tight as he put a hand through my sopping hair. His eyes looked so far away, but then they snapped back and he pulled his hand out of my hair, tugging it painfully along the way. I winced and he looked embarassed. "I'm sorry, I just, I know...what you said before and now you're engaged and when you're married I can never do this ever again and we can never and I..."

My throat clenched. "No, It is I who should be sorry. I should have gone home the moment I awoke, I never should have asked you to join me here while I bathed, I just...I don't know what I'm doing either." At that, I hugged myself tightly with my arms and felt my eyes mist over with tears. "I feel so awful about everything that has happened. Jules is a good man, but I know there are things he is not telling me, and I know that you and he belong now to the same brotherhood and I know that as his future wife, I should not be speaking ill of him..." I took in a deep, ragged breath. "But I do not feel about him how I feel about you. I do not think of him when he is gone, I think of you. When I dream, I dream of you. When I ache, it is because you are not there. When I cry, it is because I miss how you used to talk. I should leave you alone because you have caused me so much pain and I am causing you pain too, but, I -"

His arms came around my waist. Alphonse held me close and through the robe and his thin shirt, I could feel his chest. Alphonse was no longer scrawny, instead, his muscles were defined beneath his shirt. And it was then that I finally understood. He had changed, but that didn't mean he was some stranger. Would I throw away everything for a stranger? No. Would I throw away everything for the boy in front of me? Yes. I had been foolish. I had made such a mistake. And there was no turning back.

Alphonse led me to his bedchamber, where he pulled out very large white shirt and pulled it over my head. I undid the robe and let it fall away as the shirt came over me. Then he took my hand and sat me down on the bed, where he smiled. "Sleep."

"Are you going to leave?"

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked. I nodded, even though I knew I shouldn't. Even though I knew I was being selfish. I got into the bed, under the thick quilt and silk sheets and lay my head on more goose-down, this time as pillows. Alphonse pulled off his breeches, embarassment in his eyes and pulled away the covers. When he laid down, he took my hand in his. He was cold once again. I was warm. If I closed my eyes, we were back at Deathcreeke in the North Wing. Back when everything seemed to make sense. Alphonse was cursed to die, but I was giving him the hope to live. Now, here in London, me pratically a married man and him, a prominent Earl, everything was so much more complicated. But I wanted to pretend it wasn't.

After a moment, I took in a shuddering breath. "Alphonse?" I whispered.

"Mmhmm?" I opened my eyes to see him watching me.

I swallowed. "Nothing." With that I turned over, away from him, away from his eyes, away from the truth. I'd wanted to tell him I loved him. I'd wanted to tell him I would end my engagement to Jules if he would propose to me again. I wanted to tell that I wanted a life with him. But what would he care? He had come back to London for the same reason he'd left Deathcreeke: to find Charles. And if Charles left, so would Alphonse. He would not stay for me. No matter what, I was not as important.

At that thought, a tear ran from my eye over my nose, down, down, until it landed on my lips. It was salty and tasted of my sadness. I lay still, making no noise and tried to ignore Alphonse's breathing; growing steadier and steadier as he drifed off into sleep.