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Hellhound AU
Sometime round about 1900, a witch summoned a hellhound as a familiar.
He didn't mind it, hellhounds are loyal after all, and if some of her spells left him tired and drained, well, that was what he was there for, to keep her from using too much of her own energy for things. That and to eat the souls of her victims, sometimes.
But then, in the early 1970s, she ran afoul of a much stronger coven.
She was quite quickly banished to hell, but the hellhound couldn't be allowed to go with her, because, well, hellhounds are loyal and she was powerful and would have been able to use him to escape.
So the hellhound was made human, figuring that sixty, seventy, even eighty years if he was lucky would be enough time for the witch to have been consumed, so that even when the human-that-had-been-a-hellhound died, and Death herself realized that he was definitely not where, or what, he was supposed to be, she'd send him back.
But then one Charles Rowland kind of fucked up that whole plan by dying young and immediately running away from Death herself.
So the ghost-who-was-the-boy-who-was-the-hellhound has no idea what he was, or still is, under it all.
But, after a trip through hell to save his best friend (Hellhounds are loyal, after all) and time spent in a familiar position -though not a familiar kitchen- after that has been enough to knock a few things loose...
He didn't mind it, hellhounds are loyal after all, and if some of her spells left him tired and drained, well, that was what he was there for, to keep her from using too much of her own energy for things. That and to eat the souls of her victims, sometimes.
But then, in the early 1970s, she ran afoul of a much stronger coven.
She was quite quickly banished to hell, but the hellhound couldn't be allowed to go with her, because, well, hellhounds are loyal and she was powerful and would have been able to use him to escape.
So the hellhound was made human, figuring that sixty, seventy, even eighty years if he was lucky would be enough time for the witch to have been consumed, so that even when the human-that-had-been-a-hellhound died, and Death herself realized that he was definitely not where, or what, he was supposed to be, she'd send him back.
But then one Charles Rowland kind of fucked up that whole plan by dying young and immediately running away from Death herself.
So the ghost-who-was-the-boy-who-was-the-hellhound has no idea what he was, or still is, under it all.
But, after a trip through hell to save his best friend (Hellhounds are loyal, after all) and time spent in a familiar position -though not a familiar kitchen- after that has been enough to knock a few things loose...
For @UptightBoy
Or, he had, before Port Townsend, before a day trip to Hell and back and before the terrifying few hours in Esther's house after that, after things had looked like they were going to turn out.
Which was to say that Charles' afternoon nap ended abruptly with less of a startle towards wakefulness and more of just rolling from the couch into a coiled-ready crouch, reaching for a weapon that wasn't there partly because he wasn't wearing his coat and partly because he hadn't had time to replace the bat after it had been shattered by Esther Finch's snake.
He blinked slowly, swallowing back the instinct to growl, the sensation he could feel building somewhere in his chest, the back of his throat, not sure what it was that hadn't just startled him from his doze, but had shaken him into borderline attack mode. The office was the same as it ever was, even the downstairs neighbors weren't acting up as far as he could tell and he could only surmise that something in the dream -though he shouldn't have dreams any more than he needed to sleep- had shaken him, not that he could remember any of the specifics now that he was awake.
<3
This time too, he was back by their bookcase, flipping through one of the older tomes of their collection. And he almost dropped it when he heard a growl, just before Charles rolled off the couch as if he sensed danger. Sensed in the most animalistic way possible.
Edwin turned to look at him, fully expecting his form to be changed... Which was a strange thought to have. But not an unreasonable one, Edwin admitted to himself. He had his suspicions and he tried to ignore them for all these years but their little trip to Port Townsend didn't help about it.
"Charles, is everything alright?" Edwin asked, still not moving from his spot. And he hated it. Because why was he suddenly afraid?
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He hadn't meant it as a question, not really, still unexpectedly shaken, and confused by the fact that he was shaken when there was no clear reason for it, "I... might have been dreaming?" That one was almost meant as a question, because Edwin had been a ghost longer than he had, but more than that, had squirreled away all sorts of arcane knowledge that Charles only knew the edges of, so while he hadn't heard of ghosts being able to dream, Edwin might have.
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'Quite a loud puppy, isn't he.' Which could have been just a rude comment but with what Edwin had gathered the past years, or even during those days in Port Townsend, it might have been more. She knew something.
And now Charles just told him he was bloody dreaming. Edwin turned a little more toward Charles, holding the book in his hands, partly to ground himself for what he was about to say.
"Ghosts cannot dream, Charles," Edwin finished the sentence. Because that part was true.
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That wasn't a realization he'd actually had until he was saying it out loud, and it was enough to have even that thread-thin smile fading, brow creasing again, just prodding the edges of his teeth with the tip of his tongue, having had the unexplainable instinct that they should have been sharper than they were, shaking his head again, "Guess I'm not all settled again after everything."
It wasn't an actual explanation and he knew it, but it was what he was going to cling to at the moment. It made enough sense that he could make himself believe it and not have to worry about anything deeper, for now.
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"No, Charles, I think... I believe you are actually starting to settle," Edwin said and slowly put the tome back on the shelf. Just to look for another one. "Do you remember anything about your dream? Did you bite something?"
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"No." He shook his head all the same, moving to dig a deck of playing cards out of a desk drawer so that he had something to do with his hands in an attempt to distract himself so that tension could dissipate again. Another little head shake, as if realizing that wasn't enough of an answer, "No I don't remember, not no I didn't bite anything. I might have done."
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"No need to get riled up, Charles, I'm only asking," he said. "You have been like this since we came back," he added, wondering if that bloody book was in Charles's backpack or if he was just too preoccupied to find it? Or maybe he was just afraid to find it...
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Maybe more of an admission than he'd meant to give, but Edwin needed to know the frustration was due to not knowing things he felt like he should, and not at Edwin for trying to clarify.
He leaned one hip against the edge of the desk so that he could set to actually shuffling and cutting the deck of cards, both hands, then one hand, then both hands, then the other hand, giving himself something to focus on even as he asked, "Which one are you looking for? We reorganized some last week when the reference books started taking up more space than before." Not that he didn't think Edwin remembered, but he knew how ingrained habits worked that sometimes he'd look for something where it used to be instead of where it was.
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"I apologize, I did not wish to agitate you," Edwin muttered. He took a breath, mostly out of habit. "I'm looking for the 'VVitches Circle', the first edition." An older book, definitely not fit for carrying around a backpack. It was about to fall apart, too, and Edwin was thinking many times about making a copy by hand or asking Crystal to help them photocopy it sometime. "I believe it has some answers for us. For you."
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But it was slow going, and he wasn't yet at a level where he trusted himself to actually fix most of them. He had put sturdier covers on the Hardy Boys collection, just to make sure he could without risking something that might actually bite him back for trying.
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Finding the book, Edwin brought it over to the desk. He stepped next to Charles as he put the book down and carefully opened it.
"Ah, yes," Edwin whispered as he got to the very last pages. Those pages also looked like they were hastily put in there. The poor, very brief description of a Hellhound. While the book contained rituals and practices on summoning and keeping familiars, this entry was seemingly only there to inform about what a Hellhound was, not even a ritual or how to keep it on this plane. Edwin suspected it may have been the writings of an overly excited witch, coming to an abrupt end. But whatever it was, the one-page summary gave him what he needed.
Looking at the illustration of a black dog, Edwin did feel a little silly. Because he could not imagine Charles to be a beast like this. Because what if he was wrong... But years and years of detective intuition told him he was unfortunately on the right track. He also knew when someone or something felt like Hell...
"I... may be wrong," Edwin said slowly, pushing the open book closer to Charles. "But I suggest we start working on what your true nature is. Starting here," he said, tapping the page with his finger.
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It was just one of many things he'd determined not to think about too hard.
Except, it seemed, that wasn't going to be an option.
Which was why he just sighed, kneading at the bridge of his nose for a moment before sliding the deck of cards back into the box, folding his arms and leaning against the desk, studying Edwin for a moment before asking: "Observations and facts?" He knew Edwin must have some of the first and maybe even some of the second if he'd come to this particular conclusion, and listening to what Edwin had already gathered would be easier to stomach than trying to read even those couple pages.
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For @UptightBoy - part deux!
The week before they'd received an invitation to the Coven's Midwinter Gathering, delivered by Daphne herself so that she could better explain both the dress code -that they would need to come as they were, it wasn't costumes really, but Edwin would need to look the part of a ghost-spellcaster-detective and Charles would need to be himself, the Hound- along with the unfortunate stipulation that as Charles wouldn't be bound to a trap the way he was during Coven meetings, he would need to be leashed, because even though the collar and the cuffs that remained even in his Hound form were approved marks of ownership, there needed to be visible proof that Edwin could control him.
She'd also helpfully explained that the invitation was for the Agency, and good for up to six, as that was the standard for allied agencies and conglomerates. Once she'd excused herself with the gentle 'I'll leave you to figure it out, do call if you have any questions', Charles had been quick to assure that he didn't mind. Or, rather he did, but only because it wasn't their idea and they didn't really have a choice in the matter, it wasn't as if they could just not go.
But here they were, a week later -and still with three weeks to go before the event- and Edwin had finally found an updated version of his usual binding spell that should still work on a Hellhound and Charles rolled to his feet from where he'd been tinkering with the phonograph once again, now some kind of Frankenstein's Music Player combination of a hand-crank Victrola, the automated turntable from a jukebox, and the multi-disc turntable of a CD player, and he was sure he almost had it this time. He flipped the edges of the work sheet up to keep the pieces in place, giving Edwin a nod as he stretched, "Where do you need me?"
<3!
While the matter of Charles was finally settled, somewhat, Edwin was still slightly annoyed that he needed to be tied up. While they both agreed on the collar's aesthetics at least, a leash was a whole different thing. Their arrangement with the coven couldn't have been on better terms with the bimonthly meetings and the finally calmer debate about Charles's whereabouts. So the invitation to the Midwinter Gathering was kind of expected, yet Edwin didn't expect it to be mandatory. And a show. He expressed his reluctance to attend, let alone dress up, multiple times but Daphne had this strange way of convincing them to act the right way. Mostly because she did a lot for them and Edwin would have felt bad if their absence had somehow made her appear in the wrong light. Edwin was still considering writing a strong-worded letter of disapproval to the coven about the leash situation.
"How is the musical device coming along?" Edwin asked as he read through the lines of the spell a few more times in preparation.
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Charles had already thought that simply not attending wasn't the best plan, and via his network of contacts -which was to say the neighborhood cats- he'd learned that an invitation was as good as a summons and that failure to appear wouldn't just reflect badly on their contact, but also on them, and as they'd already made such good progress, Charles was loath to lose that and given as how he was perfectly fine with being leashed, as long as it was Edwin holding the tether, it was best to just get it done.
He tilted his head from side to side at the question, "Same as always, I'll get it one of these days, yeah?" His brow creased then, "Best to start in this shape or the other one?" They'd have to make sure the leash stayed in place through a shift, so he didn't think it mattered which shape they started in, though it was easier to communicate in this one rather than the other one, which likely made it a better place to start.
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"It is only an alteration of the original spell so it shall be fine if you stay as you are," Edwin said. The transformation of course needed to be tested after that but for now, he did not wish Charles to feel more of a 'dog' than necessary. However, he had to admit that with Charles's new position a whole new world and new connections opened up to them. The cats and other critters around the office were more frequent, bringing exciting tidbits of news and information. The cats and especially the pigeons were never this friendly before.
"I still cannot believe this is something that is required of us. The humiliation alone..." he huffed, and slid his hand on Charles's collar, pressing his fingertips to the crest. This wasn't just his wanting to touch Charles but the start of the spell. He started murmuring the words, feeling the spell flare once again. The original spell was a heavy one and Edwin remembered how exhausted it left him. He hopes it will be less tiring this time but he does feel the static charging up around them.
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Charles took a slow, even breath at the way the air around them started to charge, it was normally where he'd suggest walking things back a little, but he knew this spell was likely to take a little more power and a little more concentration than the normal day to day casting Edwin did.
Which was why he was going to keep still and calm and only draw attention to it if he felt Edwin actually pulling at his energy instead of just using what was there at the surface.
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Edwin pursed his lips as the spell continued. It required him to build the leash from his own magic, and he did feel the pull. A shaky, empty breath left his lips. He still remembered vividly the tragedy when he hurt Charles almost beyond repair. He was slowly getting better but he still had a long way to go. Magic was a lifetime to master, good thing he only had the whole afterlife for it. Yet, it was still a slow process.
Concentrating heavily he started to build the leash upon the existing spell. An extension of the bond. A little annoyed sound left him when he realized that it may be just as difficult as putting the bond on. But he didn't want to stop. His gaze flickered to Charles to check in, his fingers trembling around the glowing, forming leash.
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He could feel the added weight, certainly, which in and of itself wasn't concerning, but there was still something about it that was bordering on uncomfortable in a way he couldn't quite place.
His fingers brushed the back of Edwin's hand again, brow creasing, "Maybe..." His brow furrowed, trying to work out how to explain what he meant, "You're still thinking about this as caving to an unfair ruling, yeah?" He wasn't entirely sure if Edwin was thinking of it that way, but given his complaints on the mater it seemed like a reasonable guess.
A careful shrug, not dislodging Edwin's hold or shaking him off, "Maybe think about it as protecting me, instead?" He didn't know if it would help, or if it was even how the magic really worked, but he figured it was worth a try if nothing else.
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They will see that Charles was his. Devoted to him. And Edwin was ready to fight anyone who would think about taking him away.
"Right," Edwin whispered, licking his lips. The magic flew easier through his fingers now. The charge was still in the air but it wasn't as dense. "I love you, I could never..." he said as he felt it, the leash forming. He grabbed it and pulled his hand slowly away as the leash slowly built itself up until Edwin was holding the full length of it. It changed shapes a few times, going from a simple, golden glowing string to a fine chain leash, until Edwin chose to settle for a simple leather leash, not unlike the one their family dog had.
"There," Edwin sighed, holding the leash in his hand as he let go of the magic. This spell was not unlike the collar, however, it was only he who could control if it appeared or what kind of shape it took when it was 'summoned'. Edwin pulled it gently. "Is that alright?" he asked, wondering how Charles was doing now that he is leashed.
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This, though, this was a little different, and Charles smiled a little as Edwin changed the look of the lead a couple of times and while it was on the tip of his tongue to comment 'kinky' over the plain leather, he didn't, partly because he wasn't sure what the reception would be, but also because it really wasn't, it was utilitarian, certainly, but it was also surprisingly soft-looking, well-worn.
But then Edwin tugged at it and Charles' brain went just a little static-y, not like when his hair was pulled, but not far from it, either, swaying forward just a little before blinking slowly when he realized Edwin had asked a question, nodding a moment later, tongue darting out across suddenly dry lips before answering, "Yeah. Yeah, it's good."
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And because he was a detective, Edwin wondered what could have caused it. He was still learning about Charles Rowland and this was a thrilling investigation.
"Good," Edwin said slowly, drawn out. The leash wasn't glowing in his hand anymore as the spell was done but it was warm to the touch. There was just something about holding Charles close, so he could not turn away, run away, or have his attention elsewhere. The thought was almost intoxicating. Edwin, to test the working on the spell, slowly made it disappear, so it wasn't active. But then he gripped it again, letting it manifest between them in a flash of golden light. He tugged again. "Still good?"
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Which was why his brow creased just slightly, blinking at Edwin again and asking, "Wait, what did you just ask me?"
Truthfully he wasn't quite sure why he was having such a strong reaction to the thing, he could tell it was definitely him and not something inherent in the magic, but that really didn't clear things up even a little.
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"I asked..." he started, and pulled the leash instead of tugging this time, just to watch it tense between Charles's collar and his hand. "... if you are still alright?" His tone wasn't exactly a question but a kind of demand. For an answer? For more? Edwin figured they would find out soon enough. "Do pay attention," he added just holding the leash between them, feeling its tension and watching Charles at the end of it.
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