Investigator of the Supernatural, Brewer of Tea (sedulus) wrote in shadowlands_ic, @ 2018-02-23 13:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | bertie eden, dex kessinger |
Who: Dex Kessinger and Bertram Eden
What: Serious conversation on a variety of topics
Where: Dex's study
When: 23rd February, 1889
Rating: PG-13 fade out
Showing up without invitation or note, Bertie half-expected only to leave a calling card, but after waiting for a few minutes, he was told that Mr Kessinger would see him in his study. He climbed the stairs feeling guilty for the unannounced visit, and hoped he hadn't interrupted Dex in important work.
He'd been restless and distracted all day, and had finally decided that he'd only do the same if he went home. Dex had a way of settling him, and he thought perhaps it was time to deliver in person some promised information that was long overdue.
As soon as he saw Dex, he could easily imagine everything else getting swept out of his head, and had to bite his cheek to keep from simply blurting out a name. "Hello," he said instead, holding his hat in front of him, clutched by the brim. Even the anxiety twisting in him couldn’t stop the small smile that curled hopefully on his lips. "I'm sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting. I just wanted to see you."
Dex had been sitting at his desk, looking over a file from a dig in Egypt when his butler announced he had a visitor. He would have sent them away as he did not enjoy unannounced visitors, but when the butler told him who, he immediately told him to show Bertie in. Bertie was only one of a few who could visit unannounced. He was still sitting behind his desk, neatly putting pictures and documents into a folder when Bertie arrived.
He smiled and stood to his feet, moving towards the other man. “Bertie,” he greeted, not using formality for his lover in his own home; that would be saved for when they came across each other in public. “Not at all,” he said. “You’re always welcome here,” he said gently. “Tea and biscuits please,” he said to his butler, waiting for the door to his study to shut before he clasped Bertie’s hands in his and lowered to kiss him on the cheek. “Are you alright?” He asked.
Bertie's eyes, closed for the kiss, fluttered open again, and his lips twitched up again. "Should I ask what you've heard before I answer that?" he asked, nerves making his pulse skip. He squeezed Dex's hands, feeling a bit better already, less battered by metaphorical winds, and then lifted one hand to rest it over Dex's cheek.
"Better, now," he admitted, stroking Dex's cheekbone with his thumb. "I'm all right, really. It's just been an eventful week. Do you have some time to talk?" Shaking his head at himself, he added belatedly, "And you, are you well?"
Dex straightened and lifted an eyebrow, studying Bertie for a moment before he finally spoke. “I’ve heard nothing...yet,” he answered and then gave a frown. “But I am presuming that I should have?” He questioned, but gave a small lift to the corner of his lips.
At Bertie’s question if he had time to talk, he smiled in answer and then led him to one of the chairs, motioning for him to sit and then took seat himself in the opposite chair. “I am fine,” he answered. “Well enough, though now you have me worried. What all has happened?”
Bertie ran his hand through his hair as he sat, setting hat and coat aside, as he'd declined to turn them over to Dex's butler, not certain if he would be staying long and not wishing to put anyone to any trouble.
He'd done quite enough of that of late.
"Nothing to worry about," Bertie assured Dex. "Cases, mostly, Night Watch business, but I have no reason to believe I'm in any danger. I'll tell you all I can, without compromising my oath."
Bertie twisted his hands in his lap, and let out a breath for courage. "First, though, I promised you a name." He looked up to hold Dex's gaze steadily with his own. "It's Gabriel Allen. The friend I mentioned. He's seen me through several difficulties, and I'm grateful to him, and hold him in high esteem. As a friend," Bertie emphasized gently. "We've never been...what you and I might be."
It was impossible not to sound hopeful at that, even if the words were less certain. "He said I could tell you," Bertie continued. "I hope I haven't marred your goodwill toward him. Or...toward myself."
Dex adjusted in his seat and let Bertie take his time to get comfortable. He was worried now, regardless that Bertie told him there was nothing to worry about. He gave a nod of understanding that he would tell what he could within the scopes of his oath.
To hear Gabriel Allen’s name gave him little surprise. He gave a small upward turn of his lips and gave a nod. There was some territorial pull within him, of course, but he contained it. “I had wondered as much,” he stated. “He and I are...friends and business partners to an extent,” he continued. “Gabriel is a good man, indeed, and you do not have to worry about any marred goodwill,” he smiled. “I probably should not have asked you to stop seeing anyone else, in the way we see each other, as it really was not my place. I am of the territorial sort, however, and have no control over it at times,” he sighed. “Thank you for telling me.”
"No," Bertie said at once. "No, you were right to ask it--I told you because it mattered, to me, and I thought it might to you. I want you...I'm saying this all wrong." Bertie ran a hand over his face and emerged smiling ruefully. "I'm...happy...that you want me all to yourself. I feel the same way about you. The thought of you with others is...not pleasant," he admitted, with a short laugh. "And perhaps I am being selfish by wanting to keep both of you. And I'm certain he would stay a friend, should our intimacy cease. It's only that...I know how difficult it must be, for him, and I know he is not my responsibility, nor would he wish to be, but I am glad to be able to help him, as a friend. You're right, though...it is unfair to you."
Bertie lapsed into silence for a moment as he tried to separate out his feelings of regard for Gabriel from their physical intimacy. Was he making this more complicated than it truly was, making excuses for himself? Did he only selfishly want two lovers? Or was he still trying to fill the void left by Black Park that needed to be filled no longer, of surrounding himself with his own transient pack?
"Is there any way--any limitation, any act, any clause in our arrange, that would let you feel comfortable with it? I understand if that's something you can't answer right away, but...I do want you to be happy. More than that. I want to be someone who makes you happy." Bertie's smile flashed, sweet and honest. "You have every right to ask for something, if it would help to make you so."
He felt his cheeks turn hot and looked down at the rug as he added, "And if you're thinking of asking that he not...take me," Bertie said, as delicately as he could manage in spite of the blush, "you needn't worry. He never has. I should be happy to reserve that for my time with you."
Dex gave a small smile to hear that Bertie felt the same as him, that he wanted him all to himself as well. He wasn’t sure how selfish it was for Bertie, especially since they could never actually be a couple. Not in the way of the real world. They would have to keep their affairs quiet, hidden, in the shadows, until something happened to turn things around, but he did not see that for several decades, even centuries to come. Humans had become rather closed minded when they found religion.
Dex opened his mouth to speak on limitations, unsure of what to say and then Bertie was adding that he wouldn’t need to worry about putting down that Gabriel not take him. He tilted his head to the side and wanted to ask how it all worked then, but thought maybe he didn’t want to know. “I…” he started. “When you say he doesn’t… I mean… I’m not sure I even understand the nature of your relationship with him now,” he let out a small chuckle. “Perhaps it’s better for me not to know. Maybe what I don’t know won’t bother me,” he gave a small shrug. “I would never ask you not to be friends with someone, and me trying to draw lines might not be exactly fair considering what could develop between us be extremely taboo,” he frowned.
Bertie laughed in surprise and relief both, glad that Dex no longer seemed quite so serious as before. He shook his head. "It is," he promised. "It is fair, for you to ask for what you want, as it is for me to determine whether or not I can meet it. We may have to compromise, but that would be true for anyone. And if you change your mind," he added more soberly, "you may tell me that, as well. I don't care if it's taboo. I will take care, as I know you will, and not put your son at risk, or your reputation, but--I realize I'm the one with so little to lose," Bertie admitted quietly, "but I would risk what I have for what I might have, with you. For however long it can last."
That was only one of their concerns, however, and Bertie took a breath and let it out again before taking on another. "What about the pack?" he asked. "Black Park? You thought - or think, still - there might be a conflict of interest, if they accept me? Even as I am? As..." He spread his hands. "...a human?"
“Dragon’s don’t necessarily compromise,” Dex said with a small chuckle. No, dragons took what they wanted when they wanted. They staked claims and fought when their territory was trespassed on. Of course, Dex knew that he could not go to war over Bertie. If he wanted the man in his life, as his lover, as...more, he would have to make some compromises which would be difficult to do, but he would manage. “Still, I will do as needed. It does not matter how much I could lose, for if I do not have you in my life that would be even a greater loss. I too would risk what I have for what I might have with you.”
He thought of the pack. “Wolves, especially werewolves, are territorial in their own ways,” he started. “Lucien is a good man and pack leader, has a good head on his shoulders, so I don’t believe there will be issue…” he paused. “I only fear that if things go sour, if I hurt you then it will cause a rift between Lucien and myself, as I am sure he is highly protective of you if he approves of taking you into the pack. Whether you are human or become one of them does not matter, though I would fear for your safety if you are to remain human if you are to be among them.”
Bertie took care with his words when he spoke. “I don’t have to tell him.” He knew he would have to take more care even than usual to keep werewolves from noticing Dex’s scent on him, and he was vaguely uncomfortable with the idea of keeping something from his - he hoped - alpha, but he was more uncomfortable with the notion of telling Lord Black in the first place. “I haven’t. It isn’t my secret alone to tell, and...I don’t think he would approve.”
Bertie shifted a little in his chair, trying to think of how best to explain, when a knock on the study door announced the arrival of tea. Bertie was grateful for the respite, and lapsed briefly into silence as trays were set and tea poured.
Dex’s words made Bertie more determined than ever to hold onto him, for as long as it was possible. He didn’t know whether this love affair would last, or for how long, but it was impossible to know without trying.
When they were alone again, Bertie addressed Dex’s second concern, which he was still torn over, as well. “I haven’t been accepted into the pack yet,” he pointed out, and hesitated only briefly before adding, “Lord Black has reminded me, recently, that I may alway revisit my decision to remain human, if it should become...needful.”
Which brought him to the other significant reason for his visit. Bertie exhaled, lowering his eyes to the teacup before him. “The reason I asked whether you had heard anything is because there was an...incident...at the market. The Goblin Market. I’ve been asked to find certain…” Bertie checked his words and waved a hand. “That isn’t important. Or, it is, but it’s not what I’m trying to tell you. I’m sorry.”
He picked up the teacup and took a steadying sip. “I came upon an artifact that had killed a, a terrible number of people. Their ghosts were still tied to it. I...reached them, I think, held onto them, for a time. Mr Allen came upon us then, myself and another, and afterward, he said...he said…” It took another try for Bertie to put it together, and another sip of tea. “He told me I’d have to forgive him if he could no longer trust me, for he’d seen my eyes. I don’t know what he saw, but...I am afraid, always, of putting you at some risk.”
Bertie sighed and set down his cup. “That is why Lord Black offered again to turn me, if I were to join the pack. In case these...incidents...continue to occur.” His face screwed up apologetically. “That’s rather a lot to take in at once. I’m sorry.”
To hear that Lord Black may not approve had him frowning. “Why?” Dex asked. “Why would he not approve?” He paused in any other questions or comments he had on that situation when his maid brought in the tea and biscuits. They went through the routine of making their tea and he listened as Bertie went on.
“I will support whatever decisions you make, whether it’s joining or not joining the pack, staying human or becoming wolf, as long as I see that you are in no danger, I will always support you,” Dex said gently.
He sipped at his tea as Bertie then went on to tell him what had happened at the Goblin Market. “I had not yet heard,” he said with a shake of his head. Usually he knew what was happening, but he had been wrapped up in finding information on a certain new dragon, something he would tell Bertie about later.
He sat back in his chair as he took in all the information. He was saddened by Bertie possibly losing Gabriel’s trust; he wondered what it was that he’d seen to have him say as much. “I’m sorry you’ve been through such an ordeal, and sorry that I was not there to be with you through it,” he said. “I think...I think that either you need to learn how to control this gift of yours, or find a way to cease it all together. I’m not afraid for any danger I can be in, but the danger that could befall you.”
"I don't know how I would control it," Bertie admitted. "It's not a talent I've ever thought of in such a way. It's like speaking another language, it's something I've always known. Though I suppose even with languages, there is more to learn. Perhaps I'm merely expanding my vocabulary." He hesitated for a long moment before admitting, "It has been suggested that I ask someone to teach me. But the only other I know of, in London, is the one who...who used me, at the masquerade ball, to power a spell. I fear what else they might be capable of."
The memories of the airship, the table, the ghost looking through the man's eyes, the death's head staring at him from hollow eye-pits, the burning shadow creeping across his wall, the decay in his chest that Zipporah spat out...all collided and flashed through his mind at once, making Bertie shiver. "It is not an idea that thrills me," he said delicately.
"As for Lord Black...he wants what is best for the members of his pack, and has been generous enough to extend that goodwill toward me." Bertie smiled faintly, lopsided. "He only knows the same as you and I do...that there is no advancement to be made without a marriage and children. That there is danger in other associations. But you and I have considered that already, and I have made my choice. I believe he will understand, so long as we are discreet, as we must be. But it would not be what he wants for me." Bertie shook his head. "It doesn't matter. It - you - are what I want for myself."
“I think that if you wanted, you could learn to control this,” Dex stated. “Like with language, you have to practice to learn a new one, to say the words over and over, to study the meanings. And like walking, you fall down until you learn how to balance,” he pointed out. “Nothing comes naturally, you have to work at it,” he smiled. To hear that the one person in London to help him was the one that had used him had that frown pulling downward. “The one to help you is the one that could possibly damage you?” He asked. “There has to be another out there, someone that...won’t use you as this other has.”
A small part of him wished he had left Bertie alone. To be his friend and not make him his lover. Their relationships, how they felt for one another, was one that could cause both of them a lot of grief. And yet, though they knew how it all could end, they were both in it to the full extent that they could be. They would be discreet, so as to not make a mess of either of their lives, but he wondered if the mess would come regardless of how hard they tried not to let it.
“As I want you for myself,” he said quietly, leaning to where he could put his hand on Bertie’s knee. Until they had to move on, for Bertie to find a woman to carry his children and move on the family line. Until Dex had to move on himself.
Bertie had to quell the impulse to lean forward and press his lips to the corner of Dex's frowning mouth. "Don't distract me yet," he teased, resting his own hand comfortably over Dex's. "I haven't asked yet how things are going for you. How is your exhibition coming? The one at the museum?"
“Oh, I wasn’t trying to distract you just yet,” Dex chuckled back. “But it seems as if you are trying to change the subject,” he smiled and sat back in his chair. “I’ll allow it, but I think there are still some things to talk about, to figure out,” he lifted an eyebrow. “The exhibit is going well, there seems to be a lot of interest in it,” he said. “But that isn’t the most interesting thing that has happened of late,” he said. “Another dragon has made its way into London.”
Bertie flushed guiltily--he had been hoping to shift the subject away, but only because he didn't have better answers for Dex's questions. He was about to apologize and return to the discussion when Dex shared his own news, and Bertie sat straight upright.
"Are you in danger?" Bertie asked in some alarm. "Will they challenge you here? What shall we do? I didn't know--the Night Watch, I mean," he clarified, "else I would have told you at once. Why have they come to London?"
If it was anything to do with the various intrigues Bertie had found himself entangled in--the airship race and sabotage, the stolen fae artifacts, the anarchists and their assassination attempts, the Stahl coven from America looking for a coup...he almost didn't want to know.
Dex smiled at the flush of Bertie’s cheeks, knowing it was his admission of guilt. It was okay, however. He would give Bertie some time and they would come back to the subject at a later time.
“No, no,” Dex laughed at Bertie’s alarm. “They made contact with me right away,” he continued. “We had lunch. They do not seem to want to battle over territory and we have come to agreements to what they can claim,” he explained. “Do not worry, my dear,” he smiled, a soft look in his eyes. “There is no danger. Nothing to be done. There are so few of us in the world these days, that it is silly to want to fight. And...they are of what my son is, and have offered their help. I think that we will be friends, but only time will really tell. I’ve told them they could stay. If things go awry, then I will push them out.”
"Oh." It was wholly inadequate, but for a moment it was all Bertie could say. His instinct was to jealousy, for which he was ashamed--he and Dex had only just finished reaffirming their intentions toward one another. Did that preclude Dex finding intimacy with another dragon, one of indeterminate gender and age? One who understood Samuel, and could help him to grow, who might even give Samuel and Dex a reason to stay in London and not travel to New York?
After a moment, Bertie coloured again, ducking his head. "I'm sorry. I believe I'm feeling a territorial urge of my own," he explained ruefully. "One entirely unjustified. It's unworthy of you, for me to be anything besides happy that you've made a friend. That is good news, all around. I know you've said you feel...alone, here, and for Samuel to have a tutor is a great boon. Has he met them yet? This other dragon?"
“You have nothing to worry about,” Dex said, moving to reach for Bertie’s hand. Yes, Liang was pretty, of his own species, and could possibly help with his son and could definitely give him more children if he ever wanted, but at this point in his life he only felt romantical feelings towards Bertie. “I do like that you feel so territorial, though,” he said. “I find it rather sexy,” he grinned. “And Bertie, when I’m with you, I don’t feel as alone as I used to.”
Bertie exhaled, finding a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It's a pity I can't show it in public," he admitted, taking Dex's hand in his. "Perhaps we can play-act, sometime, and I shall growl my possessiveness over you to an imagined suitor." His voice lowered to a private murmur, cheeks still warm. "And I don't feel alone, either."
Bertie cleared his throat, aware that he came close, again, to becoming distracted from their conversation. "You will still be the dragon representative in the House of Shadows?"
Dex grinned, giving a small chuckle. He liked the idea of a form of play-act they could do in the bedroom.
“Yes, I will still be the dragon representative,” Dex nodded. “Nothing changes. I’ve given her some territory that I don’t care much about and she is happy with that. It will be nice to have another dragon to represent, to listen to ideas and opinions.”
"I'm glad it seems to have worked out well." Which meant, Bertie thought reluctantly, that it might be time to return to the subject he'd o'er-hastily abandoned. His thumb smoothed across Dex's palm and the heel of his hand. "I can practice with Jamie, perhaps," Bertie suggested quietly. "And others. To test what I can do, and how, and work out the bounds of my own safety. Miss Bakst, I'm sure, would be willing to help." And Bertie would be glad to come to her without an emergency for once, and with actual payment for her services.
Bertie sighed. "You're right, of course," he agreed, with a twist of a smile. "You always are. I shall flex my spectral muscles, and see what comes of it."
His smile dimpled. "Am I allowed to change the subject now?" Bertie asked, teasing. "I can think of far more enjoyable things to discuss, if you have the time."
“Jamie is…?” Dex wasn’t sure Bertie had ever brought up Jamie, and if he had it had been maybe in passing or when Dex had had other things on his mind. He nodded about Ms. Baskt, he had witnessed her caring and watching over Bertie when he’d had his latest episode. “That sounds better than going to someone who would rather use you as some sort of battery,” he said. “Though, if it comes down to it, if that person can be the only one to help you, you may have to. I don’t want to see you hurt or anything else because this ability of yours takes you over.”
“Yes,” he then smiled. “You can now change the subject,” he chuckled. “What would you like to discuss now?”
"Oh!" Bertie was quite taken aback by his failure of introduction, although he realized it made perfect sense--he had never risked Jamie's presence in addition to Dex's, even if Jamie could hardly speak to anyone about what he heard or saw. Jamie could likely guess at Bertie's proclivities, but Bertie saw no reason to strain their friendship by making Jamie a party to them.
Perhaps he was doing his friend a disservice, however, by keeping him from such a significant part of Bertie's life.
"Jamie--James Percy," Bertie corrected himself, "is...well, is quite possibly the best friend I have ever had. He used to be...at the Night Watch station, but has recently been around more of the city. He's accompanied me to entertainments, and assisted on cases. It was he who warned me the dreams I experienced not long past were no dreams, but a haunting. It is...he is...that is, I find I have no words to describe what he means to me."
Bertie's voice had gone quiet and sincere as he struggled with sentiment, ever his nemesis in speaking aloud. In poetry, sentiment was easy to express, to describe, to bare all of one's soul to the page. Spoken directly, Bertie could never bring himself to say the words.
There was a pause before Bertie finished, quite simply, "He is dead."
Clearing his throat, he clarified, "He has been, since before I knew him. He haunted the Night Watch offices once, but now he is able to move more easily. I suppose--I have been remiss in failing to introduce you, only I didn't wish there to be someone who could see and hear you, when you could not, when we were..." Bertie flushed at the thought. "...often indisposed."
Dex sat quietly for a few moments, amazed at what he was hearing. It should be no surprise to him that the dead roamed the earth, in a way he was not, but he guessed it was more that it was so close to home that it surprised him. Or maybe because one of the dead was Bertie’s best friend.
He had roamed the earth and had studied all kinds of cultures for a long while, but he didn’t think he had ever been as close to anything as Bertie was.
“It is okay,” he said after a few moments had passed. “I don’t mind that you’ve kept your, ah, friend to yourself as I’m sure you have kept me,” he gave a soft smile. “And we have been quite busy with things that a friend should not be privy of anyway,” he chuckled. “He helps you?”
Bertie laughed as well, relieved and feeling a bubble of happiness rise in him again at Dex's easy acceptance. "He does," Bertie agreed. "He can look into places I cannot, and he...hears things," Bertie admitted, the tips of his ears going hot at the admission that he was a party to eavesdropping on others at the Night Watch. "He tells me if anything interesting happens. And he can warn me, sometimes, of late, when anything...ghostly...is a threat to me. I'm certain he will help me to practice and become more disciplined."
Bertie squeezed Dex's hand. "I should like for you to meet him," he said tentatively. "As a friend, if you wish, but you mean a great deal to me, as does Jamie, and it would be my privilege to make introductions. He's tethered to a locket, now, to keep him from becoming lost. I could wear it sometime, when I see you, when we're certain we won't become..."
Bertie's face lit up with a soft smile, and his fingers played with Dex's, a rare and treasured intimacy. "...distracted."
“One day soon,” Dex smiled. “You just let me know when you want to bring your ghost friend over,” he chuckled as he realized how strange it all sounded. “But out of everything that has happened,” he asked, his tone softer. “You are alright? No damage done to you?”
Bertie's smile curved up farther, and he leaned forward at last to touch his lips lightly to Dex's.
"I'm well," he pledged, lingering bare inches away so that he could follow the words with another kiss to the corner of Dex's mouth. "I promise you."
Bertie's lips twitched, and he couldn't keep the silent laughter from his voice when he added, "Though I suppose if you have the time and energy, I could always be better."
“Mmmm that is good to hear,” Dex murmured, returning Bertie’s gentle kisses. He would worry more about Bertie, he knew, and he wondered what he could do to help keep him safe.
“Oh, I have the time, and I definitely have the energy,” he smirked and the he pulled Bertie into a heavier kiss, deeper, passionate.