Chapter Text
Victor was quite disgruntled. It had taken the miscreants less than a day to start causing trouble. Their first night back and they all defied his curfew and his rules and went up in to the attic. And that Martin girl had broken Sarah’s doll. Sure, he might not have noticed it without her, and it had led him to the possibly of making new elixir, but it turned out to have been a dead end, so the only thing that mattered was the breaking of the doll.
And the next day he had found Miss Martin and Mr. Rutter snooping around the library while he and Eric had investigated the doll’s riddle. The two of them had given rather quick lines to explain their presence, and Eric, that fool seemed to believe them. But he knew those two miscreants better than that. He’d been rather busy, so he hadn’t had the chance to follow up with them later that day. In fact, he didn’t have the chance to interrogate them until supper time. Not that he cared about their supper.
As he marched towards the dining room, Mr. Cambell and Miss Jaffray passed him, heading out. As long as they filled out the log book and returned before 8pm he didn’t really care where they were going. He was on a mission. He stormed into the dining room and shouted “Nina Martin, Fabian Rutter!” but before he could continue, he noticed a new person at the table. A distinguished older woman who was not unpleasant to look at if he was being honest. Belatedly he remembered Trudy informing him that Miss Martin’s grandmother would be staying at the house for a few days as her hotel had flooded.
The shock of seeing her stopped him in his tracks. She smiled at him, something misfired in his brain, and he made a tactical retreat out of the room. He closed the door behind him, but didn’t immediately move away, and was therefore able to catch what was said in his wake.
“Ooh, was that him? The Victor? Why didn’t you tell me he was cute?” A female voice he didn’t recognize said. He assumed it was Mrs. Martin.
He heard the miscreants laugh, but that wasn’t important. She thought he was cute? Cute? Him? He wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or flattered. He was somewhat horrified to realize he was leaning towards flattered. She was quite… cute… herself. No, cute seemed too trite. She was better than that, certainly she was looking quite good for someone who had been given no choice but to age normally.
He briefly wondered if she would accept some elixir if he offered it. Not that her brat of granddaughter would let her. Not that he had any to offer. Not that any of this mattered until he had the Book of Isis and the Tears of Gold. He wondered if Miss Martin had told her grandmother about the elixir and the cup and his society. He wondered if Mrs. Martin would approve. Though clearly the younger Martin hadn’t mentioned everything… Not that he wanted her to think him cute. Victor shuddered at the thought. He needed her to find him threatening and imposing, not cute.
Lost in these thoughts, Victor made his way back to his office, all thoughts of integrating Mr. Rutter and Miss Martin long forgotten. After spending too much time thinking about Mrs. Martin calling him cute, he resolved to ignore her as much as possible for the duration of her stay. He had Tears of Gold to research, the Book of Isis to find, and an Elixir of Life to brew, he couldn’t afford such distractions.
During Mrs. Martin’s first full day in the house, Victor successfully ignored her presence as she spent most of the day out of the house doing tourist things, and he was able to focus fully on convincing Eric make a bid for the Treasures of Egypt exhibition, and then working with him to start organizing the students to create said bid. The second day he wasn’t so lucky. Shortly after the children had all left for their classes, he too started to leave to talk to Eric about the bid more and he ran into her on his way out.
The elder Martin was in the entrance hall studying the sarcophagus. Victor briefly wondered if he could pass her by without any interaction. He hadn’t been avoiding her, per say, well he had been ignoring her, because their only prior interaction, while brief had stayed with him and befuddled his thoughts more than it ought to have, and he wished to avoid a repeat of this. He hurriedly made his way down the stairs.
She turned around at the sound “Oh, Victor, I feel I haven’t seen much of you since my arrival. The way Nina talked about you; I thought you would be almost inescapable.”
“Yes, well I… didn’t want to interrupt your visit.” He hastily said.
“That’s very kind of you.”
Victor felt his cheeks starting to burn and he quickly changed the subject. “I saw you studying the sarcophagus, do you perhaps have questions?”
“Oh, I was just admiring it. It’s quite stunning. I now understand how Nina came home last summer with a new found interest in Ancient Egypt.”
“The Frobisher-Smythes were renowned Egyptologists who brought home many of their finds. It’s one of the main reasons I chose to work here. The Ancient Egyptians had a truly fascinating culture and religion. Though, perhaps, based on your words, you don’t agree?”
“I was never that into Egypt, but Ozymandias has always been one of my favorite poems, and if I spend enough time here, I think I too may just catch the Egypt bug.”
“You know, I bet I could find you a book of poetry all about Ancient Egypt, if that would help you catch it faster.”
“Would you really?” She smiled at him and he felt his heart skip a beat “I would be so grateful if you would.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Oh, while we’re talking, I wanted to ask you about the raven I’ve seen in your office? He looks magnificent.”
“Corbierre? He was my pet when I was a child, and when he passed, I couldn’t bear to let him go.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, but it’s nice you were able to keep him in that way.”
“Perhaps I could show you him, later?”
“I would like that.” Mrs. Martin glanced at the grandfather clock. “Oh, it’s gotten later than I thought, I’ll be late for my tour, and I’ve probably made you late for whatever you were rushing out for.”
“Oh, right, well, after you.” He held the door open for her.
She got her cab to the tour and he left to find a very important poetry book.
When he returned to the house that afternoon, with the poetry book tucked under his arm, he walked past the living room and overheard her talking with Mr. Rutter, and found himself stopping to listen.
“Imagine I’m Nina” He heard her say.
“Do, Do I have to?” The boy responded. He can’t blame him. The elder Martin strikes him as much better than her granddaughter.
“Okay, imagine this crocodile is Nina.”
“That’s better, thank you,” the boy replied. Now Victor was confused, why would the crocodile be better?
“Now take a deep breath and begin the poem.”
“The quest was, was long and difficult,” The boy stuttered.
“Speak out, assert yourself,” She interrupted him.
“The quest was long and difficult. I sought treasure!”
“Look her in the eyes.”
“The treasure was you.”
“Good, good, keep going!”
“That’s it” The boy admitted.
“Huh?”
“Well, it’s a haiku.”
“Once more? With feeling.” She urged him.
Victor, not wanting to hear more, walked away. But the knowledge that she thought poems romantic, stuck in his brain. He considered the poetry book he was holding, and decided he didn’t hate the idea of her considering it a romantic gift, but he worried it might not be enough, and resolved to do something about it.