oneman_onevote | Extremely melodramatic AU: The revenge!

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The castle is chill, in the hallways, and dark apart from pools of light created by torches placed at wide intervals on the walls.

Havelock is moving, if possible, even more silently than usual. He'd be twitchy if that wasn't a surefire way to mess up your stealth. The shadows are blending obligingly around him, more strongly here than they had in the bar.

Puck can take care of himself, he knows that, but also holds out no hope that any of this is going to be particularly pleasant.

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"Now you know," Havelock says solemnly.

"I should go," he says after a short, regretful pause.

Puck's lips quirk ruefully.

"I suppose so," he sighs, in such a manner as to indicate that he supposes rather the opposite.

After that he manages to smile, though, deliberate.

"Shall I bide here 'til I am sent for?"

By which he may or may not mean 'run about the castle in a generally nuisancey fashion.'

"Do as you like," Havelock says, with the calm of one who cares nothing for antique furniture. "I will come back a little later."

That bears repeating, he feels instinctively.

"Call for Igor, if you want anything."

Puck makes a bit of a face.

"I shall be thertain to."

(Igor is, of course, right behind him.

He does not look amused.)

"You rang, young mathter?"

Havelock looks mild.

He's good at that.

"Ah, Igor," he says, with a practised upper-class drawl.

...Look, some things are in the blood. So to speak. In any case, Havelock knew this manner from a child.

Puck turns slowly to Igor, in the general manner of a lion presented unexpectedly with a weak-ankled baby gazelle.

(Havelock's upper-class drawl is always unsettlingly hot.)

"Hullo," he says, cheerfully enough.

He turns his attention back to Havelock. "Well-- I am sure you may conduct your business without fear. I feel I am in quite capable hands."

Igor looks pleased for the first time, puffing his chest out a little.

"They were my great-uncle'th," he says modestly.

"Quite," Havelock agrees smoothly.

(Knowing Igors, they probably are of excellent quality.)

"I do hope you have a pleasant evening. I know Igor will strive as best he may for you."

Puck looks as though he doesn't know whether to be intrigued or mildly horrified.

But it neatly distracts him from Havelock.

"Oh," he agrees, vague.

"Ah ... indeed."

His expression sharpens with concentration as he gives Havelock a last look. "I wish you all the same."

A slight pause.

"'Til later, then."