Master, my Master | boyxboy | [alternate happy ending]

XVIII - Scorned

Eli stepped out of the stagecoach, letting the door slap closed behind him. Here he was, back at the Lancechester manor, the tanned brick structure wherein his beloved Jasper lived. As the wheels of the stagecoach crunched behind him, now leaving him in this place, he stared inanely up at the massive front doors.

NO!

He held his breath and closed his eyes when the echo mocked his thoughts. That voice, the one in his head, was still screaming desperately. It was so deafening and frightening that Eli trembled even now, hours later after hearing it and realizing it was his own.

Please, stop!

But, as expected, his pleading and cries had gone unanswered, tossed aside like sullied washcloths. The franticness of that one moment, that shuddering moment of losing one of the most important things had shattered Eli's foundation, his wellbeing, his outlook, a piece of what kept him secure had been snatched from under his feet.

Silas Rosenkrantz was gone.

Eli approached the steps leading to the door and sat down on the last one. Facing out toward the stretch of path away from the manor, he watched the horizon, the same sequence of colors he and Silas had watched the evening before. He could still feel Silas' mild touch on his hand, see the gleam of the other boy's glasses in his peripheral, smell the iron rose scent of his hair, but for all he could, Eli couldn't hear Silas' voice.

And the worst part in all of this was...he'd never know the outcome of Silas' detainment. Eli had begged down on his knees, tried to appeal with his parents to help keep Silas once the authorities came, but, unfortunately, once Mr. and Mrs. Goode heard the reason for Silas' arrest, they wanted him nowhere near either Eli or their property. For all anyone knew, the boy could be rotting in a cell, or could be hanging from a–.

"Welcome back."

Eli snapped to reality at the sound of a dry, husky voice. Although he could hear it, it was not one he wanted to acknowledge. Eli took in a chest of air and blinked the water in his eyes dry. Keeping his mood vieled, Eli stood and faced Samuel, "It's good to be back," he said.

The old man gave a pale smile, "The Young Master will be pleased to see you. He should be home in good time."

Eli furrowed his brow, "Jasper isn't here?"

Samuel shook his head, "I'm afraid not. He and the Lady should be on their way back from Gretna Green."

Almost missing a step, Eli looked up at Samuel, "He and Darcy are getting married as we speak?"

Samuel gestured for Eli to come inside when a cold flurry of wind spiraled up. "They should be wedded at the moment, yes. I'd give his arrival a few minutes."

Eli headed up into the manor and started for the stairs when a maid, frenzied as a busybody, rushed down the spiraling steps, almost knocking into him. She was holding a pile of azure fabrics. He looked back at Samuel, "What's got her all riled up?"

Hands closed behind his back, Samuel looked as emotionless as ever, "Master Ronald arranged for a festive supper when Jasper and Darcy return."

"Festive?" The word oddly set a temper inside Eli, "What's so goddamn festive about today?"

As Eli continued up the stairs, Samuel figured already that there had to be something significant bothering the lad. He'd have asked what was the matter, but thought it best to leave him be.

When Eli reached his chamber, he stood in the doorframe for a moment, taking in the large extravagant bedroom. The massive bed was made, the curtains drawn shut, light fixtures doused. He closed the door behind him, leaving the bedroom dark but a hint of light was coming from the windows, and he paced slowly to the bed. Reaching out, Eli stroked his fingers along the mattress. He brought up and knee next, and dropped upon the yielding surface.