Legacy - A Ducktales Fanfic.

16. No Rest For The Wicked.

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   Louie uttered a singular, pained groan as he slowly awoke from the coma-like sleep he had been in. He had no idea how long he had been out of it, to be honest he had little idea how long he had even been with the circus, but from the light streaming in through the windows, he  guessed it was morning.

Recalling the last thing he could remember, he dragged his right hand over to his left shoulder, finding the arrow removed and the wound covered in fresh bandages.

Snatching up the silver alarm clock off the bedside table, he checked the time. - 08:23

Throwing off the heavy forest-green duvet, Louie climbed out of bed and onto the cool hardwood floor. He moved to the large chest of drawers positioned on the opposite side of the room from the bed, he pulled out a single buttoned grey t-shirt and slipped it on. 

As he headed for the door, he spotted his reflection in the large standing mirror by the door. Fixing his head-feathers, he winked at himself before exiting.

Leisurely, he made his way through the winding halls, feeling the soft red carpet under his flippers , admiring the numerous pieces of art that lined the walls and enjoying the smell of old books which seemed to disperse. The place was a mansion, or more accurately, it was a Manor.

After a few minutes of walking, he made it to the grand staircase, situated right in front of the main entrance to the residence. As he descended the stairs, he stopped to take a look at the large family portrait, which was surrounded by smaller paintings of the family's patriarch. The family portrait was a few years old, evident by the image of the younger Louie on the far right side.

Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, he swung a right, and entered into the manor's dining room. It was a long rectangle-shaped room, decorated with many paintings and a golden chandelier, and outfitted with a grand oak table, which could seat at least sixteen. But only one of the seats was filled. The head seat.

"Morning Uncle Scrooge." - Louie greeted cheerfully, plopping into the seat beside the Scotsman.

Scrooge folded his newspaper, and placed it on the table. - "Good morning Louie." - He responded, folding his hands.

The door connecting the dining room and the kitchen swung open.

"Morning Mrs B."

"I didn't expect you to be up so soon." - She remarked, pushing in a metal trolley carrying a single covered plate.

"So soon? So I haven't been out for long?"

"Two days." - Scrooge answered, leaning back, allowing for Beakley to put his breakfast down in front of him. - "But with the amount of blood you'd lost, I'd expected you'd be out for a week." - He removed the silver dome of the dish, before tucking into the Scottish Breakfast the housekeeper had prepared, before she returned to the kitchen.

"Our family has a habit of surviving events where survival is usually impossible. Usually without any lasting injuries, an arrow through the arm is nothing to people like us."

Scrooge sipped his tea. - "I have got to ask Lad, how did you end up on my doorstep with an arrow in your shoulder?"

"Circus accident." - He replied quickly, as Beakley returned with a second dish, this one a plate of French toast, with a side of fresh fruit. - "Thanks Mrs. B." - He said, before digging into his breakfast, the two's conversation ending there.