A deal is a deal is a deal
Jan. 20th, 2006 06:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrCookie feeds me snippets, I feed her snippets. Not your fav char in the story, but this is the next chapter up (which is why I offered two, Ruth and Brey return after this one).
Four pages, rough, unbeta'ed. Guess I know what I'm doing this weekend ^_^ And I'd post harem, but Aik only has like three additional sentences ^^.
Chapter Five
Stregoni dismounted in the stable and tended to his own horse. He would borrow another, if possible, for the return journey. Making sure his mare was comfortable, he fought through the ever-worsening snow toward the manor, banging on the door and tumbling inside when it was wrenched open.
His knees hit marble, but they and his hands were still too numb for the pain to jar him. “Sorry,” he muttered, feeling his cheeks burn despite his frozen face.
“Master Benefici!” The butler exclaimed as he helped Stregoni to his feet. “What in good heavens are you doing out in this weather?” The Hollingsworth butler, Stregoni always thought, was entirely too plump and grandfatherly to be in such a stern position. But he’d managed it for years, so he must know more than he ever let on. “You’ll catch your death!”
Stregoni laughed, relived that the nerves in his face seemed to be slowly restoring – even if it was a trifle painful. “Very nearly did, at that. But I was worried if I waited until it stopped, I would not be able to deliver the medicine.”
“You’re a good lad,” the butler said with a smile. “Just like your father.”
Feeling his cheeks flush, Stregoni raked his half-frozen curls from his face. “I’ve brought an escort – see he’s taken care of, Montgomery?”
“Of course, sir. Shall I send up a tray to Master Tony’s room?”
“Yes, please. But just a brandy and something light to eat. I’ll have to leave again once all is settled.”
Montgomery nodded. He hesitated.
“What is it?” Stregoni asked.
“There are…some visitors, Master Stregoni. Of the sort you don’t like. They came two days ago. I’m afraid they’ve rather neatly taken hold of the matter.” He rushed on when Stregoni’s face immediately clouded with anger. “But I’m certain you’ll be able to talk sense back into them. I’m quite glad you’re here.”
Stregoni nodded, mind already on the problem he had not expected to be waiting for him. “I am glad I was able to beat the snow. Send up that brandy, Montgomery, and I should be most grateful.”
“At once, sir.” Montgomery sketched a smart half-bow and turned sharply around, striding away towards the kitchens.
Holding tightly to his medical bag, Stregoni took the stairs two at a time and all but ran toward Tony’s room. Stopping for a moment, he forced himself to calm down, then knocked and stepped inside. “Good evening, Tony. How are you feeling?”
Tony Hollingsworth was a young boy of twelve, cursed with lungs too weak to suffer much strain. So far Stregoni had found little to help him, except for a tonic – developed over the course of several months – that seemed to ease the strain just enough that he could wander about the house. Like Milla, he seemed cursed with a weak constitution.
“’Goni!” Tony exclaimed happily from his bed. “Missed you!”
Stregoni smiled and moved to gently embrace the boy, smoothing down his wild, dark brown hair. He finally looked toward the other three figures in the room. “Lord Hollingsworth,” he said, nodding his head toward the man with hair just like his son, except it was graying at the temples. He had dark yellow-brown eyes and a sharp nose, dressed in the finest clothes money could buy.
“Benefici,” Lord Hollingsworth replied. “You’ve come at so late an hour.”
“The weather had me concerned for Tony,” Stregoni replied. “I wanted to make sure he had plenty of tonic before travel became impossible.”
Lord Hollingsworth nodded. “Of course I appreciate your concern; but I was going to send you a note in the morning. We no longer require your services. And I will gladly pay you for this last visit, you need not worry about that.”
“Money doesn’t concern me,” Stregoni replied. “Why am I no longer fit to care for you son? Have I done something to displease?”
One of the two remaining people in the room stepped forward, extending his hand. Reluctantly Stregoni shook it.
“William Renfield at your service, sir.” The man sketched an elegant bow. “Most folks call me ‘Sweet William’.” He smiled.
Stregoni could feel his temper rising. “You’re a quack.”
“I am a professor of medicine.”
“You’re a charlatan. What are you selling to these people?” Stregoni looked around, eyes landing on a bottle on the bedside table. It was tall, made of heavy, brown glass, with a brightly colored red and white label pasted to it. He picked it up. “Sweet William’s Magnificent Elixir.” Stregoni uncorked the bottle and sniffed the contents, frowning. Gingerly tasting a sip, he immediately corked the bottle and slammed it back down on the nightstand. “You’re a quack. You have no idea what you’re doing. What did you use in that besides excessive amounts of poppy?” He laughed, an angry sound. “Let me guess – white and scarlet poppy? What else? Something to disguise the taste. Do I even want to know what other horrid things you put in there? Are you trying to kill him?”
“That’s enough, Benefici.” Lord Hollingsworth’s expression was one of quiet reprimand. “Already Tony is looking better, and at much more respectable a price. It is enough to make me wonder who is the charlatan here.”
Stregoni felt sick. “You can’t…the bulk of what you pay is for the ingredients. I charge almost nothing for my time. Some of the ingredients for his tonic are not easily obtained this far into the country. I would never—“ He cut himself off, seeing that there was no softening in Hollingsworth expression. “I have always done my best by your son. He’s a good lad; if I could figure out how to cure him, I would gladly do so. Even at the cost of harm to myself. I am sorry you would rather be seduced by a quack’s patent medicine.”
“I am not a quack,” Sweet William protested. “Just because I don’t walk about with the airs of a fancy education doesn’t mean I don’t know my way around medicine.”
“Yes, it does. If you knew anything about medicine,” Stregoni clenched his hands into fists at his sides. “You would know the detrimental effect your poppy potion will have on the child. Whatever else you added might be countermanding it for now, but I promise you all too soon that boy will worsen.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at Tony, knowing he would lose his temper entirely. “So tell me, good doctor, what are the effects of poppy?”
“That is enough,” Hollingsworth interrupted. “Benefici, if you can behave you are welcome to stay the night. But if you insist on antagonizing Master Renfield then I am afraid you had best go now.”
Nodding stiffly, Stregoni turned on his heel and stalked from the room. He nearly collided with Montgomery outside. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m going. But don’t worry – I’ll figure something out if it kills me.” Without another word, he continued on his way.
An unfamiliar voice caught him halfway down. “Master Benefici!”
Stregoni looked up. The third figure from the room – a young woman, with the dusky skin and ink¬-black hair of the Orientals. Her almond-shapes eyes, however, were pale gold. She wore a pale pink dress, the color reminding Stregoni of the water lilies that were one of Milla’s crowning achievements in the garden. A silver and white broach, painted with peonies, was nestled in the lace about her throat. “You’re Master Benefici?”
“Yes. What do you want?” Stregoni winced at his rudeness, but could not summon the energy to fix it. Devil take them all to bloody hell. Then he noticed her fangs. “You’re a vampire.”
The woman nodded, immediately looking downcast. “William tricked me into drinking his blood when I was just a child – about the same age as Tony, actually. I have been his assistant ever since.” She took a deep breath. “They think I’m fetching a new tonic, to aid Mr. Hollingsworth in sleeping, so I must be quick.” Her hair was pinned up in a tidy bun, but a few whisps escaped, giving her otherwise stern features a softer look. And now that he was looking, Stregoni could see the strain there. “Give me your tonic, please. I will see that the boy gets it. I know William is a charlatan, but there is nothing I can do. But I won’t see a child killed – so please, let me help. Quickly!”
Acting rather than thinking, Stregoni dug into his medical bag and withdrew the tonic, a small bottle of plain green glass. “A teaspoon with every meal – never more than that, for it’s quite potent. Send word when it is down to a quarter full.”
“Yes.” She turned to go, but hesitated. “I’ve heard much about the Benefici family. I love medicine a great deal – it is how I met William. Alas for me he was a liar. Would that I had met you first.” Impulsively she reached up and kissed his cheek. “I will take care of the boy; perhaps it will help make up for all the wrongs I’ve committed with William. On his behalf, I am sorry.” And tucking the green bottle away in her dress, she turned and darted back up the stairs, leaving behind a trace of raspberry-scented perfume.
Stregoni shook his head, bemused, and went downstairs to find Parker.
A few minutes later they were back in the snow. Ignoring his own trepidation, Stregoni rode off as fast as the horses – borrowed from Montgomery while their own recovered – could be made to go. The snow had let up, but only the slightest bit. Where it wasn’t white, it was pitch black.
Parker led the way, and Stregoni let his horse follow, allowing his mind to wander. Where had the quack come from? He usually heard of them fairly quickly when they began making the rounds about town. And if was out, his mother usually sent them running off, tail between their legs. Where had this ‘Sweet William’ come from, and how had he latched so quickly to Hollingsworth?
His best guess was that the two had encountered each other in town not long after the quack arrived. Stregoni shook, with cold and anger. His father had dealt with more than a few victims of such patent medicines – nothing more than a patented fancy name for what amounted to little more than poison.
Who had the woman been? The vampire? William’s pet. It had foolish to trust her so quickly. The cold had long ago numbed his cheek, but he could still feel the kiss pressed there. Surely that was not artifice? She had seemed genuinely upset, and she would not be the first pet to be stuck with a wretched owner.
He would have to send word of what had transpired to his mother, so she would be prepared.
Four pages, rough, unbeta'ed. Guess I know what I'm doing this weekend ^_^ And I'd post harem, but Aik only has like three additional sentences ^^.
Chapter Five
Stregoni dismounted in the stable and tended to his own horse. He would borrow another, if possible, for the return journey. Making sure his mare was comfortable, he fought through the ever-worsening snow toward the manor, banging on the door and tumbling inside when it was wrenched open.
His knees hit marble, but they and his hands were still too numb for the pain to jar him. “Sorry,” he muttered, feeling his cheeks burn despite his frozen face.
“Master Benefici!” The butler exclaimed as he helped Stregoni to his feet. “What in good heavens are you doing out in this weather?” The Hollingsworth butler, Stregoni always thought, was entirely too plump and grandfatherly to be in such a stern position. But he’d managed it for years, so he must know more than he ever let on. “You’ll catch your death!”
Stregoni laughed, relived that the nerves in his face seemed to be slowly restoring – even if it was a trifle painful. “Very nearly did, at that. But I was worried if I waited until it stopped, I would not be able to deliver the medicine.”
“You’re a good lad,” the butler said with a smile. “Just like your father.”
Feeling his cheeks flush, Stregoni raked his half-frozen curls from his face. “I’ve brought an escort – see he’s taken care of, Montgomery?”
“Of course, sir. Shall I send up a tray to Master Tony’s room?”
“Yes, please. But just a brandy and something light to eat. I’ll have to leave again once all is settled.”
Montgomery nodded. He hesitated.
“What is it?” Stregoni asked.
“There are…some visitors, Master Stregoni. Of the sort you don’t like. They came two days ago. I’m afraid they’ve rather neatly taken hold of the matter.” He rushed on when Stregoni’s face immediately clouded with anger. “But I’m certain you’ll be able to talk sense back into them. I’m quite glad you’re here.”
Stregoni nodded, mind already on the problem he had not expected to be waiting for him. “I am glad I was able to beat the snow. Send up that brandy, Montgomery, and I should be most grateful.”
“At once, sir.” Montgomery sketched a smart half-bow and turned sharply around, striding away towards the kitchens.
Holding tightly to his medical bag, Stregoni took the stairs two at a time and all but ran toward Tony’s room. Stopping for a moment, he forced himself to calm down, then knocked and stepped inside. “Good evening, Tony. How are you feeling?”
Tony Hollingsworth was a young boy of twelve, cursed with lungs too weak to suffer much strain. So far Stregoni had found little to help him, except for a tonic – developed over the course of several months – that seemed to ease the strain just enough that he could wander about the house. Like Milla, he seemed cursed with a weak constitution.
“’Goni!” Tony exclaimed happily from his bed. “Missed you!”
Stregoni smiled and moved to gently embrace the boy, smoothing down his wild, dark brown hair. He finally looked toward the other three figures in the room. “Lord Hollingsworth,” he said, nodding his head toward the man with hair just like his son, except it was graying at the temples. He had dark yellow-brown eyes and a sharp nose, dressed in the finest clothes money could buy.
“Benefici,” Lord Hollingsworth replied. “You’ve come at so late an hour.”
“The weather had me concerned for Tony,” Stregoni replied. “I wanted to make sure he had plenty of tonic before travel became impossible.”
Lord Hollingsworth nodded. “Of course I appreciate your concern; but I was going to send you a note in the morning. We no longer require your services. And I will gladly pay you for this last visit, you need not worry about that.”
“Money doesn’t concern me,” Stregoni replied. “Why am I no longer fit to care for you son? Have I done something to displease?”
One of the two remaining people in the room stepped forward, extending his hand. Reluctantly Stregoni shook it.
“William Renfield at your service, sir.” The man sketched an elegant bow. “Most folks call me ‘Sweet William’.” He smiled.
Stregoni could feel his temper rising. “You’re a quack.”
“I am a professor of medicine.”
“You’re a charlatan. What are you selling to these people?” Stregoni looked around, eyes landing on a bottle on the bedside table. It was tall, made of heavy, brown glass, with a brightly colored red and white label pasted to it. He picked it up. “Sweet William’s Magnificent Elixir.” Stregoni uncorked the bottle and sniffed the contents, frowning. Gingerly tasting a sip, he immediately corked the bottle and slammed it back down on the nightstand. “You’re a quack. You have no idea what you’re doing. What did you use in that besides excessive amounts of poppy?” He laughed, an angry sound. “Let me guess – white and scarlet poppy? What else? Something to disguise the taste. Do I even want to know what other horrid things you put in there? Are you trying to kill him?”
“That’s enough, Benefici.” Lord Hollingsworth’s expression was one of quiet reprimand. “Already Tony is looking better, and at much more respectable a price. It is enough to make me wonder who is the charlatan here.”
Stregoni felt sick. “You can’t…the bulk of what you pay is for the ingredients. I charge almost nothing for my time. Some of the ingredients for his tonic are not easily obtained this far into the country. I would never—“ He cut himself off, seeing that there was no softening in Hollingsworth expression. “I have always done my best by your son. He’s a good lad; if I could figure out how to cure him, I would gladly do so. Even at the cost of harm to myself. I am sorry you would rather be seduced by a quack’s patent medicine.”
“I am not a quack,” Sweet William protested. “Just because I don’t walk about with the airs of a fancy education doesn’t mean I don’t know my way around medicine.”
“Yes, it does. If you knew anything about medicine,” Stregoni clenched his hands into fists at his sides. “You would know the detrimental effect your poppy potion will have on the child. Whatever else you added might be countermanding it for now, but I promise you all too soon that boy will worsen.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at Tony, knowing he would lose his temper entirely. “So tell me, good doctor, what are the effects of poppy?”
“That is enough,” Hollingsworth interrupted. “Benefici, if you can behave you are welcome to stay the night. But if you insist on antagonizing Master Renfield then I am afraid you had best go now.”
Nodding stiffly, Stregoni turned on his heel and stalked from the room. He nearly collided with Montgomery outside. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m going. But don’t worry – I’ll figure something out if it kills me.” Without another word, he continued on his way.
An unfamiliar voice caught him halfway down. “Master Benefici!”
Stregoni looked up. The third figure from the room – a young woman, with the dusky skin and ink¬-black hair of the Orientals. Her almond-shapes eyes, however, were pale gold. She wore a pale pink dress, the color reminding Stregoni of the water lilies that were one of Milla’s crowning achievements in the garden. A silver and white broach, painted with peonies, was nestled in the lace about her throat. “You’re Master Benefici?”
“Yes. What do you want?” Stregoni winced at his rudeness, but could not summon the energy to fix it. Devil take them all to bloody hell. Then he noticed her fangs. “You’re a vampire.”
The woman nodded, immediately looking downcast. “William tricked me into drinking his blood when I was just a child – about the same age as Tony, actually. I have been his assistant ever since.” She took a deep breath. “They think I’m fetching a new tonic, to aid Mr. Hollingsworth in sleeping, so I must be quick.” Her hair was pinned up in a tidy bun, but a few whisps escaped, giving her otherwise stern features a softer look. And now that he was looking, Stregoni could see the strain there. “Give me your tonic, please. I will see that the boy gets it. I know William is a charlatan, but there is nothing I can do. But I won’t see a child killed – so please, let me help. Quickly!”
Acting rather than thinking, Stregoni dug into his medical bag and withdrew the tonic, a small bottle of plain green glass. “A teaspoon with every meal – never more than that, for it’s quite potent. Send word when it is down to a quarter full.”
“Yes.” She turned to go, but hesitated. “I’ve heard much about the Benefici family. I love medicine a great deal – it is how I met William. Alas for me he was a liar. Would that I had met you first.” Impulsively she reached up and kissed his cheek. “I will take care of the boy; perhaps it will help make up for all the wrongs I’ve committed with William. On his behalf, I am sorry.” And tucking the green bottle away in her dress, she turned and darted back up the stairs, leaving behind a trace of raspberry-scented perfume.
Stregoni shook his head, bemused, and went downstairs to find Parker.
A few minutes later they were back in the snow. Ignoring his own trepidation, Stregoni rode off as fast as the horses – borrowed from Montgomery while their own recovered – could be made to go. The snow had let up, but only the slightest bit. Where it wasn’t white, it was pitch black.
Parker led the way, and Stregoni let his horse follow, allowing his mind to wander. Where had the quack come from? He usually heard of them fairly quickly when they began making the rounds about town. And if was out, his mother usually sent them running off, tail between their legs. Where had this ‘Sweet William’ come from, and how had he latched so quickly to Hollingsworth?
His best guess was that the two had encountered each other in town not long after the quack arrived. Stregoni shook, with cold and anger. His father had dealt with more than a few victims of such patent medicines – nothing more than a patented fancy name for what amounted to little more than poison.
Who had the woman been? The vampire? William’s pet. It had foolish to trust her so quickly. The cold had long ago numbed his cheek, but he could still feel the kiss pressed there. Surely that was not artifice? She had seemed genuinely upset, and she would not be the first pet to be stuck with a wretched owner.
He would have to send word of what had transpired to his mother, so she would be prepared.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-21 12:15 am (UTC):coughs:
Fantatic! But noooooooooooooooooooo Tony!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
no subject
Date: 2006-01-21 02:46 am (UTC)Lol. I don't think the fondness people have for this story will ever cease to amaze me.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-21 09:19 pm (UTC)Meh. :goes and rereads and feels the lack of future chapters:
no subject
Date: 2006-01-21 12:30 am (UTC)But I really really like authoresses who feed me Embrace. *incoherent glee when she saw this* I like Streg, though, even if he isn't my fav. :3
no subject
Date: 2006-01-21 02:46 am (UTC)Lol. You make an author happy.
*loves you* ^_^
no subject
Date: 2006-01-21 12:57 am (UTC)Have I mentioned how much I love Stregoni? *hearts him and Tony*
I love the way Stregoni just knows within seconds that Sweet William is a quack. And I love that Hollingsworth
is a toolcan't see it even though it should be obvious.I also like the use of William's pet there. I love how quick he is to trust her, and doubts her sincerity only after he's given her the tonic to give Tony. I also like the bit about William tricking her into drinking his blood...
*tackle glomps*
no subject
Date: 2006-01-21 02:44 am (UTC)^____^
Streg is my personal favorite, even if as the author I'm probably not supposed to have favorites. When I came up with this story, I knew three things - Streg was one of them.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-21 02:08 am (UTC)*proceeds to whining* Streg just isn't right without Gille. How 'bout we just skip all this stuff and move on to the chapters where they finally stop fighting each other. Please? Pretty pretty please!
Also, I'm in agreement with those above me--I do not like Sweet William. At all. He must needs go. Like a chapter ago. *pouts*
no subject
Date: 2006-01-21 02:45 am (UTC)Heh. Gille will reappear, never fear. I enjoy writing him too much for the bastard to vanish for long.
Heh. Oh, good. I like it when everyone hates the chars they're supposed to detest ^_^
And now that I am home, I can go read about PRETTY TWINS.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-21 03:00 am (UTC)Actually I much like Stregoni (second only to Ruth). I look forward to reading more about him and Gille.
'Sweet' William is such a funny name for a supposed 'professor of medicine'. I for one would not trust a guy that goes by that name -_-;
Water lilies makes me think that William's pet is to be trusted... maybe something will happen between her and Stregoni to make Gille jeolous??
no subject
Date: 2006-01-21 08:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-21 03:11 pm (UTC)Interesting new vampire lady. Wonder what further role she will have? 'Sweet William'... his name just sounds evil.
I love that Stregoni's mom is the one who scares the quack's away. Go Streg's mom!