Chapter Text
Xavier headed to his shed the morning after graduation before the sun rose. He packed up the few remaining supplies, leaving a few easels, his worktable, and the futon behind for the shed’s next occupant. Then he locked the padlock and slipped the key underneath an empty pot for Elowen to collect later.
There was a lump in his throat as he turned to go. The shed had been his retreat and sanctuary throughout the painful and dark times that dotted his Nevermore experience. He’d tried to exorcise his dreams of the Hyde in this shed. He’d been arrested in this shed. It had also seen some of the happiest moments of his life. He and Wednesday had lain together so many nights in that shed, talking about the past, present, and future. He’d held her in his arms, surrounded by his work, not realizing how precious their time at Nevermore was until now. He felt guilty leaving the shed behind as if he were abandoning a long-time friend. Xavier reminded himself that Elowen planned to continue the shed’s use as a sanctuary for Nevermore’s tortured artists. He had to have faith that the old man would preserve his legacy.
Wednesday waited outside the boys’ dormitory for him, Draven and Hamish flanking her. The sky was growing gray with the approaching dawn. They headed for the parking lot; Wednesday sensed Xavier’s mixed emotions and let him process them silently. She still wasn’t good at helping with these sorts of things, so she let him sort it out in his head whenever possible.
The motley crew climbed into his car, and the engine roared to life. Soon they were winding through the wooded roads toward Burlington, where the Thorpe’s jet awaited them. When they arrived at the airport, a driver took Xavier’s keys and left with the car. It would be put on a ship and delivered in a few weeks. They’d rented a car to use until it arrived.
A cool rain began to fall as they walked up the steps and into the plane. Draven and Hamish trotted up the stairs last, neither seeming particularly emotional about leaving Nevermore. It made sense; Hamish had hardly spent any time there, and Draven wasn’t really attached to any particular location.
Wednesday felt strange about leaving. There were plenty of things she wouldn’t miss about the school. Graduating freed her to pursue her interests full-time without the tedium of homework and exams. At the same time, she would miss the cutthroat competition of the Poe Cup, the fencing team, and even parts of Jericho itself. She might even miss Weems a little after a while.
The plane screamed down the runway and took off into the slate-colored sky. Soon, they were over the Atlantic, the water stretching as far as even Wednesday’s superior eyes could see.
Hamish wandered back to where the flight attendants sat to beg for food. Draven transformed into a cat to fit better in one of the seats and fell asleep. Xavier was drawing various things in his sketchbook. Wednesday could tell he was distracted by the way he’d give up halfway through one sketch, flip the page, and start another.
After about an hour, she huffed and asked, “Do you want to talk about it?” hoping he’d say “no.”
No such luck.
“I feel like I don’t know what to do with myself!” he began. “Nevermore’s been my whole life for, like, years. Since I was a kid. And now it’s just over – like ‘poof!’”
Wednesday drummed her fingers on the table between them, thinking of an appropriate response.
“Well, what did you imagine would happen when you graduated?” she finally asked.
“I tried not to think about it very much, honestly,” Xavier replied, gazing out the window. “I think I dreaded it, in a way, and all I cared about was staying far away from my dad.”
“That was rather short-sighted of you,” she replied.
“Thanks for the support,” he said sarcastically.
Hamish returned from his quest for snacks and settled his massive head on Xavier’s lap. Xavier scratched the hound, thinking about the irony of receiving more comfort from a Hellhound than his girlfriend.
“You don’t have to know what to do with yourself right now. There’s plenty of time to agonize over your life’s purpose. In the meantime, you can paint to help keep the lights on at home. Manor houses are notoriously expensive to keep up, so I expect you to pull your weight,” Wednesday said, looking at him.
He turned away from the window with a slight smile. “Don’t worry, we won’t end up in the streets on my account,” he promised.
“We would never end up in the streets. You might, though, if you go into one of your moods and don’t work!” she teased.
He finally laughed at her dark joke and felt better for the first time all morning. If nothing else, he had Wednesday; she was his home more than any school or house would ever be.
“Let’s get some sleep,” Xavier said, pushing himself out of his seat and walking toward the back where the jet had enclosed sleeping pods.
Wednesday said nothing but followed him, ducking inside the pod behind him. Each pod fit one person comfortably and two cozily. They weren’t terribly roomy, but they were dark, soft, and better than sleeping upright in a traditional seat.
Xavier pulled Wednesday into his arms, his larger form enveloping hers. Wednesday lay awake for a few minutes, listening to the engines whine and thinking about how strange it was to leave Nevermore for good this time. Unlike Xavier, she didn’t feel lost in the slightest; however, she did feel a mix of excitement and nostalgia. She let the thought drift away as she fell asleep.
When Wednesday woke a few hours later, she felt Xavier’s hardness pressed against her lower back. She pressed back into him, causing him to make a low sound that vibrated through his chest. His hands ran up her bare thighs (she’d removed her leggings before sleeping and tossed them into the corner of the pod) until his fingers found her warm center, already dampening for him. He pushed his sweatpants and boxers down his legs before pulling her panties to the side and positioning himself at her entrance.
“Do you think you can be quiet?” he teased in a low voice.
“I’ll do what I can,” she whispered, knowing she’d need to shove her pillow into her mouth when the time came.
In response, he pushed into her, pumping from behind. With her legs together, she was exquisitely tight around him, and he didn’t know how long he could last. Xavier reached around to find her clit and began rubbing in the rhythmic way that he knew would produce the desired results.
Xavier was quickly rewarded with a muffled shout that she drove into her pillow as he rode her through the orgasm. Then he let himself cum, releasing his tension and the past inside of her.
It was morning when they landed in Scotland, and it was raining. Wednesday had looked forward to the weather, and her anticipation was duly rewarded. They collected their things, and Xavier stepped out of the plane first to put up a black umbrella large enough to shield them both from the rain. It was purely a gesture of chivalry, as he knew that Wednesday had no qualms about being soaked and freezing from the weather.
They proceeded down the stairs to the tarmac, where a driver with a black SUV awaited them. They’d rented a car while they waited for Xavier’s to arrive, but that was already at the house, and they didn’t yet know the way. Xavier had offered to use GPS, but Wednesday hated the technology, feeling like it was presumptuous in telling her where to go and how to get there. Some battles weren’t worth fighting.
Xavier and the driver loaded their carry-on baggage into the trunk as Wednesday, Hamish, and Draven (still in cat form for convenience) slid into the back of the car. There were three rows of seats, so Hamish hopped over into the last one, followed by Draven, who settled his lithe form atop the Hellhound to continue his nap.
Xavier slid into the seat beside Wednesday, and soon they were driving through the heather-covered Scottish countryside. They’d flown into a regional airport to avoid the chaos of the large international ones. Wednesday gazed out the window at the gray and rocky surroundings, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.
After about an hour, they pulled off the main road onto a country lane lined by fir trees. Soon the main road disappeared behind the hills that the route wound through, obscuring the path whence they came. The low fog made it hard to see anything more than a few yards in any direction, but Xavier could tell they’d entered some kind of lowland surrounded by mossy hills.
Suddenly, the driver slowed, and a stone moss-covered carriage house appeared out of the mist. It had an arch barred by a wrought-iron gate. Two statues of hooded-robed figures flanked the entrance, each at least eight feet tall and disconcertingly sinister in appearance.
“That’s a vibe,” Xavier said as the gates swung open to admit them.
“It’s important to make guests feel welcome,” Wednesday replied, gazing at the statues affectionately.
“Right,” Xavier said as they passed under the arch and into the inner courtyard.
A gravel drive circled a statue of a winged skeleton bending down to kiss the upturned face of a robed woman on her knees. He imagined Wednesday found the motif quite romantic and based on how her eyes lingered on the visage as they circled it to the front of the manor, he guessed correctly.
The courtyard was surrounded on all sides by high stone walls, obscuring the front of the manor from view from the road. It was certainly private; they’d have no trouble hiding from the world here.
The manor’s façade was gray stone flecked with lichen. It had massive wooden double doors carved with reliefs of hooded figures, angels, and forlorn-looking humans in robes.
Xavier stepped out of the car, relieved to see the rain had stopped for now. Mist swirled around his feet as he crunched out of the way so Wednesday could alight behind him. He scanned the front of the house, taking in the details of their new home – a home that he technically now owned.
It was two stories plus the attic that Wednesday had ordered renovated for him. On each corner was a circular tower peaked by a pointed roof. He assumed that two similar towers were on the back of the house. The roof came to points in several places, and he could see stone chimneys poking out here and there, indicating an abundance of fireplaces.
Xavier withdrew the heavy key ring from his backpack and slid the largest key into the door on the right. Metal ground against metal as the key turned in the ancient lock, and the door groaned in protest as he pushed it open. Wednesday smiled. The sound was so comforting.
Xavier stood aside to let her enter the house while he returned to the car to help with the rest of their things. Hamish bounded past Wednesday and disappeared into the house. Draven slunk inside behind him, also disappearing into the gloom. Wednesday stepped inside and took in the front hall.
The floor was made of polished black stone, complementing the deep mahogany detailing on the walls. Portraits of austere gothic scenery and family members cluttered the walls in ornate gold and black frames. There were doors on either side of the hall leading to other rooms, and a massive black marble staircase with ornately carved ebony handrails dominated the hall. An ornately carved wooden raven topped the polished mahogany sphere capping the end of each handrail.
The space was drafty but pristine, as the Addams’s had the residence cleaned from top to bottom in the previous weeks. Wednesday’s only complaint was the lack of cobwebs adorning the corners.
Xavier entered the hall, followed by the driver with their luggage. The driver seemed skittish and scampered out of the house as soon as Xavier tipped him. The door closed behind the retreating driver without prompting, plunging the couple into semi-darkness.
“Um, Wednesday?” Xavier said hesitantly.
Wednesday whispered a soft spell, and the gas-style lamps on the walls glowed to life. Candelabra lining the staircase every few feet sputtered and lit themselves, casting a warm glow throughout the space. Xavier looked around the hall, feeling uncertain about their new home. It was all well and good to imagine living in a gothic manor, but actually being here made him uneasy.
It was a feeling that Wednesday clearly didn’t share as she shouldered her backpack and opened the door to her left. Another spell lit the lamps around the burgundy-carpeted room, and a fire roared to life in the hearth. Xavier followed her into what was the library.
The walls were lined with books wherever there weren’t windows. A black baby grand piano was tucked into the far right corner of the room. There was a mahogany desk against the front windows that looked back out onto the drive, and the circular tower alcove featured a cozy, semi-circular leather couch. Two leather armchairs faced the hearth opposite the door they’d entered through, and an ornate oriental rug and another leather sofa dominated the center of the room.
Wednesday briefly scanned some of the titles, verifying that all her books had arrived no worse for the wear and had been properly added to the house’s collection. A few titles seemed out of place, and she made a mental note to reorganize them when she had time.
A door against the back wall apparently led further into the house. Wednesday crossed the room to push it open and disappeared. Xavier jogged to keep up with her, realizing she planned to explore the entire home before anything else.
They entered a wood-paneled billiards and smoking lounge that featured the same semi-circular alcove in the back left corner. The lounge had its own fireplace and leather furniture, and it was the first time Xavier felt an air of coziness in the house. He realized that the smoking lounge must have been a holdover for when men would excuse themselves from the dining room to smoke and entertain themselves without the company of ladies. He thought he might convert the space to include his TV and Xbox so he could game late into the night without disturbing Wednesday. Being able to game with his friends would undoubtedly help him feel more at home.
The lounge had double doors on its right wall that Wednesday opened to reveal the formal dining room. Wednesday strode into the dining room and admired the gleaming ebony table that sat at least twelve. Windows overlooking the rear grounds lined the back wall, and like the previous two rooms, it had its own hearth. The chairs were ornately carved so that each leg was a hooded figure holding up the seat. Wednesday was delighted at the aesthetic and made a mental note to thank her parents for their design choices.
Wednesday walked the length of the room to open a door on the other side, which led to the kitchen. The kitchen was surprisingly light and airy, much to Xavier’s relief. It also had all new appliances and a massive island in the center. Poking around the kitchen, he found a large pantry in addition to a small room dedicated to drying and preparing herbs. In the circular tower alcove, stairs descended to a closed door. He figured that the basement could wait until he felt a little braver.
The kitchen had a back door that led out to a sizable garden. He knew Wednesday had plans to grow herbs for her various potions, but it was spacious enough that he figured he’d have plenty of room to plant some vegetables of his own.
Proceeding past the pantry, they opened another door that led to a formal sitting room looking out on the front drive. This room had another grand piano, this one white, in the circular tower alcove. Paintings lined the damask-papered walls, and the furniture and wood detailing kept with the mahogany theme of the house. The room had a second door by the hearth that led them back to the front hall.
“Satisfied so far?” Wednesday asked.
Her question startled Xavier since she hadn’t spoken during their impromptu tour.
“It’s…it’s different than anywhere I’ve ever lived. And older. It’ll take some getting used to. I like the kitchen,” he concluded.
“Good, because I don’t have aspirations to learn to cook,” she said. “Now, let’s find our room and our things. They should all be here by now.”
They returned to the front hall and took the stairs to the second floor. A long corridor with rich burgundy carpet and mahogany wainscotting ran lengthwise from one end of the house to the other.
“I had them remove the paintings from this hallway and store them in the attic studio. You can decide which ones you want to put back and which of your own you want to hang instead,” Wednesday explained, gesturing to the unadorned walls. “You can change out any of the ones downstairs as well. I’m not attached to any of them.”
She turned right at the top of the stairs and proceeded down to a set of double doors on the left side of the hall. Wednesday pushed open one of the doors, revealing a stunning master suite. The four-poster bed was carved from ebony and supported black velvet bedcurtains. There was a fireplace with two armchairs before it to the right of the doors. Next to that, a door opened into the circular tower room containing a black claw-footed tub with a shower attachment and a large mirrored vanity. A sliding door led to a private room with a toilet and sink.
After examining the bathroom, Wednesday crossed to the other side of the room, which had two closed doors. The left led to a spacious walk-in closet, where Wednesday was satisfied to see their clothes, shoes, and other accessories hanging and neatly arranged on shelves. There was a dresser outside the closet that she discovered was already filled and sorted. Xavier felt a bit disconcerted that unseen hands had delivered and unpacked their things before they arrived.
Wednesday, unfazed by this revelation, proceeded to the other closed door. Behind it was a small boudoir decorated in black with a black chaise long below the window, her ebony dressing table from home with a black velvet chair, and a black marble sink. It was a perfect space for her to relax and get ready in privacy.
As she rummaged through her things in the boudoir to ensure they were all accounted for, Xavier sat down on the massive bed and gazed out the window that looked out on the back of the house. This day felt surreal, and he felt dwarfed by the house’s size, age, and antique grandeur. Despite his lavish upbringing, he would have preferred to live in a quaint cottage or at least a more manageably-sized house. Living here was going to take some getting used to.
Sensing his discomfort, Wednesday came and sat beside him on the bed. She wound her fingers between his and kicked her feet absentmindedly in the air.
“You’ll get used to it,” she said. “Besides, we have Draven and Hamish here too, and they’ll certainly liven the place up with their nonsense. Once you start painting and get your studio situated, it’ll start feeling like home.”
He kissed her forehead, appreciating her attempt to comfort him, knowing how much she despised doing so. Then his stomach growled, breaking the silence and the tension.
“Any chance the creepy movers filled the fridge?” he asked hopefully.
“Probably,” Wednesday replied, hopping from the bed and heading for the bedroom door.
Xavier followed her back to the kitchen, where he was delighted to find that the fridge and pantry were bursting with local and high-quality ingredients. After a few minutes of rummaging, he produced mozzarella, tomatoes, basil, balsamic, and olive oil. Then he buttered and toasted slices of bread in the oven and whipped up a bruschetta topping from the other ingredients. They sat on stools at the kitchen island, munching on fresh bruschetta and sipping tea that Wednesday had located in another cabinet.
It was raining again, and Xavier liked the pitter-patter on the old kitchen windows. Until he got his studio set up, he knew that the kitchen would be his sanctuary. He took their empty dishes to the sink and gazed out at the budding garden outside. Perhaps, he thought, while he got used to the inside of the house, he’d spend nice days outside finding solace in the soil.