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blood_wingedTitle: My Lord and Master, Chapter 7 of 7
Genre: AU/General/Romance
Word Count: 1394
Rating/Warnings: U, none.
Summary: Alfred Jones is the new manservant to the son of the late Lord Kirkland, a mysterious and secretive young man who seems out of place in his opulent surroundings. The previous manservant, Alfred's own father, said nothing of a youngest son and no one else appears to know of him, and Alfred wonders... what did the man do to warrant such secrecy? If he keeps his job for long enough, he may be able to find out.
Despite how Arthur insisted that the walk and subsequent impromptu campout had been good for him and even something he had quite enjoyed, Alfred wasn’t unobservant enough to fail to notice that his master’s walking became far worse in the days that followed. Whatever ‘good’ effect that it had had on the man had seemed to put a new kind of determination in him, and though the younger blonde felt that he ought to be resting and keeping the weight off his leg he knew by now that suggesting such a thing would only produce the opposite reaction.
Alfred, however, had his own problems to deal with. The revelation of his master’s mental state and what it meant, along with how close they had become had confused him. If he closed his eyes he could still feel the man’s arms around him, the quiet breathing against his neck and he could still see that warm smile on his face. Perhaps Francis had been right after all, perhaps Arthur was dangerous and he had infected him with this disease that was making him think unnatural things.
Yet, he didn’t believe that. It may have been because he didn’t want to believe it out of some inherent bias caused by the respect that he held for Arthur but he did not think that the man was truly sick as he said. There was no way to see it from the outside, nothing about him that would betray it, no peculiar quirks in his personality that would mark him out from anyone else. He seemed… normal. It put thoughts into Alfred’s head that he was sure he ought to be uncomfortable with and yet he found himself mulling over them, pausing in the middle of whatever he happened to be doing until a noise or someone passing nearby alerted him to the fact that he had been standing idle. It was troubling, and what was more troubling was that these thoughts didn’t make him want to leave.
He could be far more himself around his master now, outspoken and almost mischievous at times, far more willing to express his thoughts and Arthur appeared to find it rather refreshing, even encouraged it. It was only this newfound boldness that eventually provoked him into insisting that the older man spend a day resting, and although Arthur had initially protested, he had eventually conceded that Alfred did indeed have a point about the growing issues with his mobility.
Over that day the previous week of strenuous activity had caught up with the man, leaving him rather tired as night began to fall and he no longer needed to request Alfred’s help when he was struggling, finding the young servant at his arm before he could even open his mouth to speak. Alfred helped him to bed, and moved about the room closing the curtains and turning the sheets back as he changed, moving to the door when he was done.
“Alfred?”
He paused, his fingers just short of touching the door handle. The way that his name had been spoken made his stomach flutter in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant, and he looked over to the bed where his master was lying comfortably propped up against several pillows.
“My lord?”
“Would you stay a moment?”
Alfred nodded and crossed back to the bed, sitting down when Arthur lightly patted a hand to the spot beside his knees. He watched the man curiously, but Arthur didn’t appear to want him for anything as he slid down a little and closed his eyes. Exhaling softly, Alfred gripped his knees and looked down, then at Arthur, then back at the floor. The light of the lamp next to the bed was casting soft shadows across his face, making him look younger than he was, and even those eyebrows of his were not an unpleasant feature. Arthur sighed gently, and Alfred wasn’t sure if he was awake or asleep but he found himself leaning forwards, to get a better look at his face in the low light.
Green eyes flickered open, either disturbed by the movement or simply the sensation that something was near him and they locked to Alfred’s, slightly wide and a little startled. Alfred wasn’t sure what he was doing, had no idea but he knew that there was one thing that he wanted to do at this moment, one thing that he knew he shouldn’t because of more reasons than he cared to count. The near-darkness, save for the dim light of the paraffin lamp on the cabinet beside them made him feel safer somehow, as if this could be dismissed as a dream.
He leaned forwards, and both heard and felt the barely whispered ‘stop’ against his lips before they touched to Arthur’s. There was a hand gripping his arm and one at his chest, gently pushing though not enough to offer anything more than a token resistance. Alfred was suddenly rather glad he had had the unknowing foresight to close the curtains rather than broadcast this to anyone within view of the window, and when he refused to move he felt the hand at his chest curl into the fabric of his jacket and hold him there rather than try to make him move. The effort of keeping his weight supported on nothing was making Alfred shake slightly, but he didn’t want to move and risk dislodging the light contact between them. Arthur made the decision for him however when he suddenly pulled away with a quiet gasp, shoving the younger man away as best he could (which was not very far at all).
“Alfred, you-”
“I apologise.” Alfred moved back, his face feeling as if it was on fire and every muscle suddenly given to a subtle trembling. “I will leave immediately.”
“What? No, you most certainly will not, I forbid it.” the older man sat up, his own cheeks flushed a bright red and he gripped Alfred’s sleeve, a frown on his face as they looked at one another. “It is I who should be apologising. I should have known better than to keep another man so close to me.”
“I told you that I did not believe you to be sick, my lord,” he replied. “I will not believe for a moment that this is your doing, whether by intention or not.”
Alfred was taking a risk, a greater one than any he had until now and he knew it, as he lifted his hand and brushed the backs of his fingers to his master’s cheek, lightly along his jaw and then cupped the side of his face. He had never seen Arthur’s eyes so wide or quite so green and when he moved in again the other man shifted forwards to meet him, a soft breath catching in his throat as they kissed. Arthur didn’t pull away this time and when they parted they stayed close, eyes half lidded and fingers clutching to each other’s clothes.
“Alfred…”
“Arthur.”
Arms moved up around his shoulders and held him tight, lips pressed to his neck and he could feel the faint heat of Arthur’s blushing against his skin. He turned his head slightly, and tentatively drew his own arms about the smaller man, rubbing his thumbs in idle circles over his back.
“You realise,” Arthur said. “That I will have to release you from my service for this gross overstepping of your boundaries.”
“I understand,” Alfred murmured in response, his heart pounding so wildly that he was certain that it was about to beat clean out of his chest, and he was sure that Arthur must have been able to hear it. “But where will you find another manservant like me?”
Arthur was quiet for a little while at that, and although it might have seemed prudent or even sensible to do so considering the other servants residing in the household Alfred found himself rather unwilling to remove his arms from their comfortable position around the slender body of the other.
“I suppose that you make a good point,” the older man conceded after some minutes had passed. “It would seem that I have little choice in the matter.”
“Mm.”
“I believe that I will take my breakfast in the conservatory tomorrow morning,” Arthur said then. “And Alfred?”
“Yes, my lord?”
“Bring enough for two.”
---------
<| Chapter Six |
Genre: AU/General/Romance
Word Count: 1394
Rating/Warnings: U, none.
Summary: Alfred Jones is the new manservant to the son of the late Lord Kirkland, a mysterious and secretive young man who seems out of place in his opulent surroundings. The previous manservant, Alfred's own father, said nothing of a youngest son and no one else appears to know of him, and Alfred wonders... what did the man do to warrant such secrecy? If he keeps his job for long enough, he may be able to find out.
*****
Despite how Arthur insisted that the walk and subsequent impromptu campout had been good for him and even something he had quite enjoyed, Alfred wasn’t unobservant enough to fail to notice that his master’s walking became far worse in the days that followed. Whatever ‘good’ effect that it had had on the man had seemed to put a new kind of determination in him, and though the younger blonde felt that he ought to be resting and keeping the weight off his leg he knew by now that suggesting such a thing would only produce the opposite reaction.
Alfred, however, had his own problems to deal with. The revelation of his master’s mental state and what it meant, along with how close they had become had confused him. If he closed his eyes he could still feel the man’s arms around him, the quiet breathing against his neck and he could still see that warm smile on his face. Perhaps Francis had been right after all, perhaps Arthur was dangerous and he had infected him with this disease that was making him think unnatural things.
Yet, he didn’t believe that. It may have been because he didn’t want to believe it out of some inherent bias caused by the respect that he held for Arthur but he did not think that the man was truly sick as he said. There was no way to see it from the outside, nothing about him that would betray it, no peculiar quirks in his personality that would mark him out from anyone else. He seemed… normal. It put thoughts into Alfred’s head that he was sure he ought to be uncomfortable with and yet he found himself mulling over them, pausing in the middle of whatever he happened to be doing until a noise or someone passing nearby alerted him to the fact that he had been standing idle. It was troubling, and what was more troubling was that these thoughts didn’t make him want to leave.
He could be far more himself around his master now, outspoken and almost mischievous at times, far more willing to express his thoughts and Arthur appeared to find it rather refreshing, even encouraged it. It was only this newfound boldness that eventually provoked him into insisting that the older man spend a day resting, and although Arthur had initially protested, he had eventually conceded that Alfred did indeed have a point about the growing issues with his mobility.
Over that day the previous week of strenuous activity had caught up with the man, leaving him rather tired as night began to fall and he no longer needed to request Alfred’s help when he was struggling, finding the young servant at his arm before he could even open his mouth to speak. Alfred helped him to bed, and moved about the room closing the curtains and turning the sheets back as he changed, moving to the door when he was done.
“Alfred?”
He paused, his fingers just short of touching the door handle. The way that his name had been spoken made his stomach flutter in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant, and he looked over to the bed where his master was lying comfortably propped up against several pillows.
“My lord?”
“Would you stay a moment?”
Alfred nodded and crossed back to the bed, sitting down when Arthur lightly patted a hand to the spot beside his knees. He watched the man curiously, but Arthur didn’t appear to want him for anything as he slid down a little and closed his eyes. Exhaling softly, Alfred gripped his knees and looked down, then at Arthur, then back at the floor. The light of the lamp next to the bed was casting soft shadows across his face, making him look younger than he was, and even those eyebrows of his were not an unpleasant feature. Arthur sighed gently, and Alfred wasn’t sure if he was awake or asleep but he found himself leaning forwards, to get a better look at his face in the low light.
Green eyes flickered open, either disturbed by the movement or simply the sensation that something was near him and they locked to Alfred’s, slightly wide and a little startled. Alfred wasn’t sure what he was doing, had no idea but he knew that there was one thing that he wanted to do at this moment, one thing that he knew he shouldn’t because of more reasons than he cared to count. The near-darkness, save for the dim light of the paraffin lamp on the cabinet beside them made him feel safer somehow, as if this could be dismissed as a dream.
He leaned forwards, and both heard and felt the barely whispered ‘stop’ against his lips before they touched to Arthur’s. There was a hand gripping his arm and one at his chest, gently pushing though not enough to offer anything more than a token resistance. Alfred was suddenly rather glad he had had the unknowing foresight to close the curtains rather than broadcast this to anyone within view of the window, and when he refused to move he felt the hand at his chest curl into the fabric of his jacket and hold him there rather than try to make him move. The effort of keeping his weight supported on nothing was making Alfred shake slightly, but he didn’t want to move and risk dislodging the light contact between them. Arthur made the decision for him however when he suddenly pulled away with a quiet gasp, shoving the younger man away as best he could (which was not very far at all).
“Alfred, you-”
“I apologise.” Alfred moved back, his face feeling as if it was on fire and every muscle suddenly given to a subtle trembling. “I will leave immediately.”
“What? No, you most certainly will not, I forbid it.” the older man sat up, his own cheeks flushed a bright red and he gripped Alfred’s sleeve, a frown on his face as they looked at one another. “It is I who should be apologising. I should have known better than to keep another man so close to me.”
“I told you that I did not believe you to be sick, my lord,” he replied. “I will not believe for a moment that this is your doing, whether by intention or not.”
Alfred was taking a risk, a greater one than any he had until now and he knew it, as he lifted his hand and brushed the backs of his fingers to his master’s cheek, lightly along his jaw and then cupped the side of his face. He had never seen Arthur’s eyes so wide or quite so green and when he moved in again the other man shifted forwards to meet him, a soft breath catching in his throat as they kissed. Arthur didn’t pull away this time and when they parted they stayed close, eyes half lidded and fingers clutching to each other’s clothes.
“Alfred…”
“Arthur.”
Arms moved up around his shoulders and held him tight, lips pressed to his neck and he could feel the faint heat of Arthur’s blushing against his skin. He turned his head slightly, and tentatively drew his own arms about the smaller man, rubbing his thumbs in idle circles over his back.
“You realise,” Arthur said. “That I will have to release you from my service for this gross overstepping of your boundaries.”
“I understand,” Alfred murmured in response, his heart pounding so wildly that he was certain that it was about to beat clean out of his chest, and he was sure that Arthur must have been able to hear it. “But where will you find another manservant like me?”
Arthur was quiet for a little while at that, and although it might have seemed prudent or even sensible to do so considering the other servants residing in the household Alfred found himself rather unwilling to remove his arms from their comfortable position around the slender body of the other.
“I suppose that you make a good point,” the older man conceded after some minutes had passed. “It would seem that I have little choice in the matter.”
“Mm.”
“I believe that I will take my breakfast in the conservatory tomorrow morning,” Arthur said then. “And Alfred?”
“Yes, my lord?”
“Bring enough for two.”
---------
<| Chapter Six |
