Prelude (Underworld Lucian Fanfiction)

51 - Chapter LI: A Meddling of Lycans

22nd of April 1900.

It was past dusk when they arrived at the London den. The sound of wet cobblestones causing him to wake on his side of the carriage, giving some audible relief to the two grunts Raze had saddled him with. The one trying to mask the fact that two of his ribs were cracked—and the other wasting little time informing him that they had arrived. Both of them keeping a safe distance, perhaps convinced now that searching his person was neither wise nor sanctioned under any circumstances.

As the carriage stopped, he considered pulling himself up from his slouch—making an effort to walk towards this bright light they kept pushing him towards on a centennial basis—but soon thought better of it. Another round of cannabis after Reinette had passed out and he was still riding high on the winds. His yawn taking in the world before he allowed himself to be 'helped' from the back by the only one who deserved to lose a finger on the back of these shenanigans.

Raze.

He almost tripped over the carriage step, trying to extricate himself from the iron grip. "Is this what it feels like to be under house arrest," he muttered, attempting to settle himself down beside the drainage channel before Raze again 'helped' him up. The man was actually being quite rough, to be honest. The two grunts had disappeared already and the stables were empty, the horses being the only ones 'high-ranking' enough to witness the master in such a state.

Oh and Singe.

He couldn't forget Singe. The old boy was perching on one of the stools in the kitchen. His spectacles glistening as though he had spent the afternoon cleaning them just for that moment. Despite the hour, the fire was cold, the entire grounds in an apparent lock-down in preparation for the master's homecoming. And as luck would have it, they had brought Reinette too. Or her box rather. The top removed, the box on its side, and the unconscious woman left to rot beside an overturned coal scuttle. As for his secret cargo of laudanum...

...lined up on the kitchen table.

Empty.

He finally managed to shove Raze's help off his shoulder. Using a hand to steady himself against the door frame, and then taking a breather before he removed his morning coat, allowing it to drop into the same heap of discarded rubbish that was Reinette. "Has anyone ever..." He inhaled before finishing the sentence. "...told you not to go through my personal belongings?"

Singe was looking as though he'd rather be dusting his pocket microscope. "Yes," he said with the blank expression of one who had been through this before. Only then, it had been alcohol. The scientist considered and then shifted one of the empty vials an inch closer to the edge, the words weighing more than the glass. "...but cracking someone's ribs will not change the fact that there is no more laudanum in this household."

"Well then it's a good thing I'm not a laudanum addict," he shrugged, managing to lower himself onto one of the stools without incident. Hard to tell if his decision to mix cannabis and alcohol was helping the situation. His words and his boot about the only thing capable of pointing at Reinette in his current state. "Are you confiscating that as well or do I get to keep one ally?"

Singe lacked the grace to look awkward. "Oh, I am sure she had less choice in this matter than yourself, Lucian..." He hesitated and then took another moment to clean his glasses. "...and of course, I am of the belief that you will forgive this..." There was a pause. "...'inconvenience', once you are cleansed of the substance of course."

Cleansed.

Well 'that' was new. Forty years ago, and it seemed like only yesterday that Singe was prescribing the tincture to help him sleep. Help him relax. Help him pass through the night without lashing out. One minute a simple prescription...and the next, an inconvenience to them all. Best to 'cleanse' it.