Work Text:
Oakhurst, Town Hall, September 1868
*~~T^T~~*
Owen hated desk duty.
It mostly consisted of sitting around doing nothing beyond counting the floor boards, and when something does happen, it's normally some annoying town member trying to meet without an appointment. He hated it.
But, someone needed to do it, and Louis had asked him to.
And anything for Louis.
The bell chimed a Owen's eyes snapped away from the floorboards (he had already counted them 1, 2, 3 times, there were about 205 in this room) and towards the door. In came the doctor, his suit looking pristine as it usually did, it was the apron's job to get dirty, after all. His brown hair was streaked with grey, and his scarred, sullen face looked perpetually tired. He had come to help Oakhurst's more rural community with modern medicine, but found a "crazy" town full of people screaming about vampires.
Owen smirked. The doctor was a person of logic. That did not get you endeared here. Not to the old residents, at least. He's sure the tourists appreciated him though.
"Name and purpose," Owen stated, trying his best to keep his voice from sounding too annoyed.
"Dr. Victor Legundo. I'm here to see Mayor Miller about expanding the clinic, and the possibility of taking on an apprentice."
"Do you have an appointment?" He asked.
"Yes, I believe we discussed it a few days ago and set one up."
Owen flipped through the days schedule, finding that the doctor did, indeed, have an appointment in 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 minutes.
"You can sit over there and wait. The mayor is currently in a meeting with Temporary Military Liaison Kuna."
Legundo nodded, turning to sit down on the bench, briefcase next to his legs as he warmed himself by the fire.
Owen supposed, with fall arriving, that humans would be cold. It still annoyed him that they had to waste woods for the fireplace. He'd worked hard to obtain that wood.
Anything for Louis.
A few moments later, the doorbell chimed again. This time, it was Cleo who arrived.
"Name and purpose."
"Cleo Zombi. Here to set up an appointment to discuss food storing for the upcoming winter."
Owen flipped through the schedule.
"There's a spot open on the 25th, 3pm. And on the 28th, 5pm."
"The 25th will do."
Owen took his pen and dipped it in his inkwell, scrawling it on the calendar.
"Is that all?" He droned.
"Yes," and with that, the farmhand turned on their heel and left the building.
Apo followed soon after, saying her goodbyes to someone down the hallway, probably Louis. As soon as they turned around, their face fell into a deep scowl reminiscent of the one Owen normally wore.
"Oh no, what's wrong?" The doctor asked.
"Nothing!" Apo's eyes twitched.
"That doesn't look like nothing-"
"PERMANENT POSTING!" She screeched, before picking up a pillow from the bench and screaming into it.
"Calm down Apo, this is a public office. Owen, can you get them a cup of water?" Legundo asked.
Owen scowled, pushing himself up from the desk. He was not paid enough to deal with this.
Well, he was, because Louis was always grateful when he did, and that was payment enough.
Anything for Louis.
He handed Apo her cup of water, with a remarkable amount of self restraint as to not dig his fangs into the screaming human.
Apo took the cup, shakily drinking the water.
"You realize that this town is here for you, Apo, right?" Legundo assured them, which was untrue. Apo was a new resident, and the old residents were rather distrustful of new residents. Hence the town's "open secret" suddenly became much more closed off.
"Your appointment, doctor," Owen drawled.
"Oh, right! Apo, you should return to your and Pyro's. Get some rest, maybe vent to your roommate if he's willing. If not, vent to your pig. And know that we're here for you."
And with that, Legundo picked up his briefcase and left down the hall. After a moment, Apo got up and left the building, doorbell solemnly chiming behind her.
Owen let out a sigh of relief. He'd never been fond of others being so… sincere. (Unless it was his beautiful, kind, caring, angelic, and perfect in every way husband, of course.) Problem for him, Oakhurst was a tight knit community where stuff like this happened all the time. Even after the wave of new residents, they were just as close as the old.
He hated it.
Anything for Louis.
He pulled out a vial of blood (cow, he had never actually tasted human blood) and downed it discretely.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he felt much calmer after having been fed.
The doorbell rang, and Owen groaned at the sight of who was entering.
"He's busy, M," Owen snapped at the author as he approached the counter.
"Oh come on… I just want one interview! Nothing too much, I won't take too much of his town," M said, flashing a pristine white grin.
Owen scowled, "Mayor Louis is an important man who does not have more than 24 hours in a day. He will not be wasting his time to give random authors interviews about vampires. If you really want to learn about this town's beliefs and traditions, go interview the locals!"
"But the locals won't tell me anything anymore!"
Of course they won't! Only old residents knew anything and they were not going to tell anything to the one person who blabbed so much it made Oakhurst infamous!
"Then you're out of luck for when it comes to spreading rumors about Oakhurst. Now get out of this building!" He growled, taking a piece of paper and writing "no vampire talk" and sticking it to the wall with a nail.
"Well then, I guess I'm not welcome. Also, your pen is outdated! Get a fountain pen and you'll thank me later!" M huffed, turning to leave.
"I don't care about your new fangled technology! This pen has been in good use for about 2 centuries, now out!"
M groaned, stalking out the building. Owen hated the man. It was his fault he was stuck at this front desk in the first place, as the recent boom meant Louis couldn't administer from the front desk anymore and needed someone to sit there for him while he went through meetings.
Just then, the bell rang again and Owen could feel a headache coming on.
In walked 1, 2 people Owen had never seen before, a girl and a boy, from the looks of it. The girl was tall, brazen, with a strong build and short, choppy hair, a crossbow strapped to her back over a long overcoat as she strode in with a confident demeanor. The boy was shorter, meak, with grey-brown hair, a green vest and bandages wrapped around his neck, magenta eyes darting wildly around the room. Probably tourists.
"Name and purpose," he droned.
"Elle Hunter," the girl said, pointing to herself, "and my friend, Avid M. Craft. We want to see the mayor."
"Don't we all," Owen replied, "what's your reason for doing so?"
"We want to ask him about vampires!"
Owen groaned loudly and obnoxiously, "It's always vampires with you tourist types! Mayor Louis does not take interviews about vampires! I keep telling this to people! I just shoed the author away!" He pointed at the paper on the wall.
"No, we don't want to ask him questions for fame, or anything! We have an important reason for this!" She pleaded.
"Look, Lady, I don't give a damn about your reason. You could want to write a book, research paper, or be here for your own curiosity, I don't care! Mayor Louis has more important things to spend his time on than discussions of local folklore!"
"But-"
"Butts are for asses and I don't see any donkeys here, now get out!"
He pointed furiously at the door and Avid dragged Elle out the building.
As the 2 left, a new person entered. He wore a tailored suit, white gloves, polished shoes and 1 earring of a silver cross with a ruby inset in the center. His hair was split black and white and one of his eyes were hazel, the other red. Another stranger. Great.
Anything for Louis.
"Name and purpose."
The stranger held a blank face, but inclined his head, "my name is of no importance to you. My purpose is to see the mayor."
Owen could feel the growl rising in his throat, but he pushed it down.
"The mayor is busy. If you really need to meet him, you can make an appointment, but to do that, I will require your name."
The stranger's face did not change.
"He can take the time for this. No matter how busy."
Owen held back his snarl with great effort, "no. He can not. He is currently in a meeting with the doctor. He is not going to be interrupted by some stranger."
"Ah, but you see, I am not a stranger. My father had been in the mayor's correspondence-"
"Boy, I do not care who your father is. Your father could be Prince Albert of Wales and I would not care. You either make an appointment or leave."
The stranger put his hands in his pockets, stance casual, yet obviously made to look that way to be misleading. There was an air of readiness about him that set Owen's fangs on edge.
"One, I did not mean it like that, just that the mayor should be expecting me. Two, you can not make me do anything. Three, the correct term would be Albert, Prince of Wales, not Prince Albert of Wales."
"I could not care less about the semantics of royal titles-"
"Ah," the doctor said, emerging from the hall, "am I interrupting something?"
"Nothing important," Owen mumbled.
Legundo looked between the 1, 2, shrugged, and left.
Owen sighed as he and the stranger picked up the argument.
"I do not care why you are here, stranger, but the mayor is busy-"
"Am I now?" A voice came from the hall, and Owen turned to see his beautiful, kind, caring, angelic, perfect husband entering the front room.
"Louis… please, don't give him an inch. You know how these tourists are."
Louis held up his hand, looking at the stranger, "Alric, right?"
"No," the stranger responded, "but he was my father."
Owen seethed at the fact that the stranger had been telling the truth about Louis knowing his father.
"Ah, well, I'm sorry to hear that. What might your name be?" Louis asked.
The stranger shot a glance at Owen.
"Don't worry about him," Louis assured, "he's trustworthy. Been with me for about 2 centuries now."
Owen flinched. Louis casually talking about their more… uncommon attributes was normal, but only among the old residents, for which it was an open secret. He never talked about it in front of strangers.
"And how can you be sure?" The man intoned.
"You're just like your ancestors, you are. So cautious," Louis chuckled, turning to Owen, "Owen, if I were tell you a secret that you could not speak about to any soul, what would you do?"
"Burn in the sun and willingly swallow garlic before ever even thinking about revealing it," he replied automatically.
Anything for Louis.
"I- I guess I should've expected that, but you need not do that," Louis muttered
"You never know," the man said, "information can be dangerous, and so he very well might have to do that."
"Not helping, Veylocke." The stranger, apparently called Veylocke, gave an exasperated sigh at use of his name.
"Abolish," he said after a time, "that is my name. I'm here for the usual reason."
"Yes, assumed so. It is funny how fast time flies, for it to have already been 200 years. Well, I'm Louis, as you know, Louis Miller. And this," he gestured at Owen, "is my husband, Owen Miller."
Abolish inclined his head before turning back to face Louis, "so. The check up, town first, yes?"
"Yes."
"What?" Owen asked.
Abolish was silent for a moment, "…are you sure he's trustworthy?"
"Of course!" Louis says, cheerfully.
Abolish turned to Owen, "What I'm about to tell you is a massive secret. One Oakhurst has been hiding for 600 years. You are not to tell a single soul about it. You are not to write it down in any document. You are not to lead anyone to it. You are to protect with your life, do you understand?"
Owen paused. Anger flared in him for a moment at being bossed around, but it dissipated under Louis' gaze.
Anything for Louis.
*~~□^□~~*
She wandered through the forest, path twisting and turning through the tall, ancient trees.
What might these trees hide? They couldn't help but wonder. All the most interesting creatures hid in the trees, it seemed. Gnomes, elves, fairies, werewolves, bigfoot. Always in the trees. Always in the forest.
She wanted to reach out, to connect, to understand the ancient forest, so connected as though it held one conciousness.
If they were kind to the living things, to treat it with care, respect and genuine curiosity, would the forest reveal its secrets?
She gre giddy at the thought. Trees were old, they saw many things, and all the stories praised the wisdom of the ents. What would the forest tell her? What truths might she learn if only the trees reached out to her?
She vaguely thought that if you listened, sat down, opened herself up and well and truly listened, she might hear what the ancient thing had to say.
But now was not the time, and the path broke through the treeline, a small, walled town rising over the plains beyond.
Oakhurst, they thought, determination flowing through their veins, here I come.
*~~☆^☆~~*
Far from Oakhurst's walls, deep in the woods, where not even the wolves dare roam, is a place that no human remained to remember. A secret, old as the trees, an echo of memory, lay there.
A shadow flits through the walls.
It is waiting for a friend.