Dark!Sorcerer!England!XReader Brushstroke P.22

    Looking out from behind the trees you let out another notable groan.  This time you sounded a little more uncertain, and you had good reason to feel that way.  “This doesn’t seem right.”

    “It’s just a little scoop of dirt, (f/n).” Pointing over to the freshly dug grave with the mounding heap of rich, black soil on top, he explained again to just go get a ‘little’.  Shifting his weight off the older gravestone, he placed both his feet on the ground before standing to his full height.  

    “I feel like we’re creepers out here.”  

    “It’s not like they’re using it anyway,” he chuckled darkly.  Once he saw your lips press flat and your eyes shift, he knew he was dangerously close to losing you in this game.   “We don’t need that much and it will hardly be missed, love.  You do want to help me, don’t you?  You what to perform magic, too?”

    Yes, you certainly wanted to try your hand at this whole magic thing.  It was exciting to have done what you had, and it was just using a few pretty coloured rocks.  More than the magic, you wanted to help Arthur out, because, well he needed it.  If you had something special that would free him from this curse, you had to do it.

    Holding out a black leather pouch in his hand, you snatched it away. Without asking again what the task was you made your way up from the overgrown part of the cemetery, which had only seen housekeeping maybe twice a year.  Glancing back over your shoulder, you opened your mouth to ask again, but there wasn’t much of a reason to ask what you had to do. Getting a handful of dirt seemed pretty self explanatory.  

    His unwavering movement made you feel uneasy, and you licked your dry lips, finally daring to speak. “Are you coming?”  

    “No.  I’ll wait right here.”  He said, leaning his back again a tree.  There was no way he was stepping on to hallowed ground.  Hanging back by the sinners on this unblessed turf would be his best bet.  Whores, witches, and thieves had no need for a prayer when they were damned to the flames below, and nor did he. “This will be good practice for you.  This is where all witches start out.”  

    Standing in front of the grave, you mouthed a little prayer for the departed.  Kneeling down, you dug your hand into the fresh dirt.  Spooning a few handfuls into the pouch, you tied it off and stood.  

    That wasn’t so bad.  If this is all magic is, I can do it.  You thought as you quickly started back to Arthur.

    “(f/n)?”

    Spinning on your heels, you were stared down by Dr. McGregor who held a bouquet of flowers in his hand.  Slipping the pouch into your pocket, you looked back at Arthur who wasn’t ever attempting to move.  

    “What are you doing here?” He asked and took a step closer to you.  “How’s Lucinda?”

    “Um...she’s fine.  I’m just here with a friend.”

    “A friend?”  He questioned and scanned around the tombstones. His tilted his head at the blond that stood back.  “I don’t think I’ve met this young man before.  What’s his name?”

    “Arthur,” you said, taking a step back for the older man.  “His name is Arthur and he’s from outta town.”

    Dr. McGregor nodded and started to walk towards him.  This is the last thing you wanted, although you knew that Arthur wasn’t going to spill the beans on what you two were doing out here, but Dr. McGregor might to your granny and that worried you.  She would no doubt ask why you were hanging out in a cemetery with someone you just met.  

    “Nice to meet you, lad.  My name’s Liam McGregor and I’m the local vet here.”  Stopping in from of Arthur, he paused only briefly before holding out his hand.

    Arthur took his hand and gave it a quick shake.  Ah, this is the man that must have patched Allistor up.  “Likewise.”

    “Are you staying in town?”

    “He’s staying with us.  He’ll be helping out around the house and things like that.”  You explained and took a spot next to Arthur.

    “It was charming to meet you,” Arthur said with curt bob of his head.  “Sadly, we must be on our way to town.  (f/n) was going to show me around today.  Isn’t that right, (f/n)?”

    “Um...yeah.  I was going to bring him down into town and show him some of the shops and such.  There not that exciting, but  Arthur really, really wanted to see them.”  You nervously chuckled and pulled on Arthur’s wrist.  “Better be on our way.  I’ll tell Granny you said hello.” Overstepping a pile of dried wood you dragged Arthur along.  

    “Oh, you might want to stay away from town, (f/n).” Dr. McGregor said.

    “Why?”  Arthur asked smugly, which made you tug a little hard on his arm.  

    “You haven’t heard then?  The widow Smock was found dead.  The town is quite the buzz at the moment.”

    “Dead?”  You gasped, remembering how you only had spoken to her the night before.  “How?”

    “They’re not sure, but they’re thinking it was a heart attack.  Although her house, from what I heard, looks as if a bomb went off.”  Dr. McGregor nodded backs towards the newer graves.  “Oh, but you know how gossips spreads around this town like wildfire, (f/n).  Even with that, you two be careful.”  

                                             ~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

    “I can’t believe Ms. Smock is dead.”

    “Hmm, I thought that you didn’t like the woman, or at least that’s what I gathered when you called her a crazy bitch the other day.” He craned his neck towards the sky letting the sun warm his cheeks.

    “That doesn’t mean I wanted the woman dead,” you snipped.

    “Then what do you want?”  Arthur asked, bringing himself around and stopping in front of you.  “You seem to be all over the place with what you want, love.  Maybe I’m expecting too much from you if you get a little worked up over a drunkers’ death.”   

    “There is nothing wrong with compassion.  I think I’ve been more than such with you, Arthur, especially with you lying to me.  Not to mention having a demon show up at my grandmother’s house and zombies, I can let you deal with them on your own.”  

    “Huh, this kitten has claws, eh?”  Arthur smirked and leaned closer to your face.  “And what, pray tell, will you do if those bad beasties show up at your door, love? Will you offer them a spot of tea and some biscuit, eh?  I think you need me, just as much as I need you.”  Grabbing your chin, he tilted your face towards his and closed his eyes, drawing in your sweet scent.  “Now, be a good little kitten and come along, (f/n).  Keep your claws away until another time.”  Dropping his hand, he pivoted on his heels and started down the worn down path from the cemetery.

    Narrowing your eyes, you mouthed several less than kind words at the blond that stopped mid step.  “I’m going home, Arthur.  I...I don’t feel like doing this anymore.”  

    “You don’t understand, (f/n), you’re much too far into this game now.”  He hissed and watched you quickly turn from him.  “You can’t just pick and choose what you want to do now.”  

    “I understand, or at least I think I do, how important this is for you, Arthur.”  You waved your hand in the air to brush the anger that was surrounding you away.  “But I also think that you need to learn that to be patient.  It’s not every day that you learn magic is real and so are demons, give me a little time to understand.”  

    Arthur closed his eyes and gripped the end of his nose hard, painfully pitching it between his thumb and pointer finger.  He didn’t have time for you to understand.  He needed your full cooperation and he needed it now!

“There isn’t any time to understand, you foolish girl!”

    Raising an eyebrow at him, you slowly nodded your head.  “Once you calm yourself down, Arthur, you can talk to me, but until…” you muttered something else under your breath, and quickly walked back into the graveyard.  Arthur watched as you weaved in and out between gravestones and disappeared over a small hill.  

    “When a girl doesn’t listen to reason, old friend,” a voice sang behind Arthur, “it’s time to use, how do you say, more persuasive powers.”  Arthur glanced over his shoulder at the demon that appeared out of thin air with a menacing grin upon his face. “Tug on her heartstrings and she’ll play into your hands like sweet music.”  

    An icy blast cut Arthur’s face and he collapsed to the ground.  He would have rathered there been an easier way, but it seemed that Ivan had other ideas.