An assortment of the different bars, pubs and restaurants seen in the original Layton trilogy. We have... Crouton’s, Crumm’s Bar, The Ribbon (Folsense Cabaret), The Thames Arms (exterior and interior), Anita’s Place (Future Midland Road), Pepper’s Noodle Palace (Chinatown), and Paillard’s Restaurant (Future London).
Summary: You and Henry start a life together, after so much that’s happened.
Pairing: Henry Cavill/You
Word Count: 3,048
Rating: G - Dystopian!AU, Futuristic!AU, Language, Mild Angst, Suggestive Language, Cotton Candy Goodness, Fluff and a Super Happy Ending!
Inspiration: I’ve always wanted to write a futuristic fic!
Author’s Note: Thank you all for the support and love on this story, it was a blast to write. Thanks to the amazing @wondersofdreaming as always <3
It had been three months since the events had happened in Bristol, and both you and Henry had healed well and started building a life together as boyfriend and girlfriend.
Henry's family fully, completely and lovingly embraced you into their family, treating you as one of their very own; uncaring that you were born in the lower Sectors of London. They included you in everything from social parties and events to family gatherings. You were surprised, when you went to his family home for the first time, because unlike you and your family, Henry and his family were raise in an actual house in Sector Two's posh neighborhood, where nearly every member of the Royal and Cleric Council lived, with their families; his brothers and their families also lived in houses of their own, in the neighborhood.
The Cavill's had lived in this neighborhood for several generations, his father's side of the family had always been members of the Cleric Council and his mother's family had always been members of the Royal Council; but Henry was the first Cavill and Dalgliesh to not be either a Beta, Alpha or High Royal or Cleric, in nearly nine generations.
“Why don't you live here too, Henry?” You had asked, the first time Henry had taken you to his parent's house, for dinner, two weeks after getting out of the hospital. “Can you not, since you're a High Marshal?”
“Oh no, I can live here, if I'd like too, being the son of a Cleric and Royal.” Henry replied, as he pulled into his parents’ driveway. “But, I choose to live in the flat, in Central Sector Two. I didn't need a big house, since it was just Kal and I. Even with it being the three of us, there's still no need for one.” He explained, then got out of the car to move around and open your door.
Henry's family had even invited your parents and little brother to their family functions.
They had been slack jawed, while they sat in the back seat of Henry's car, you and Henry having gone to pick them up and take them to the Christmas party you all had been invited too. They watched as each Sector got brighter and brighter, until they finally got to see the sun, for the first time, as it started to sink below the horizon. Henry glanced at them through the rear-view mirror and smiled, remembering the same look of surprise and awe on your face as you saw the same view for the first time, over a year before. He looked at you and smiled even brighter as you looked at him, having looked back at them and saw their reactions to it as well.
Their awestruck continued as you entered the Cavill family's posh neighborhood, seeing all the fancy and large three-story houses, the lush green grass of the front lawns and the expensive cars in their driveways. Parking, you all got out of the car and headed inside, greeted by Henry's parents in the foyer.
“Merry Christmas.” Marianne smiled, hugging you and Henry. “Welcome and Merry Christmas.” She said to your parents and little brother, as you and Henry greeted his father.
“Thank you and Merry Christmas, My Lady.” Your mother replied and smiled back, nervously bowing her head to Marianne.
“Please, call me Marianne.” She replied, smiling sweetly. “This is my husband, Colin.” She said, introducing him.
“Pleasure.” Colin greeted them, smiling warmly.
“I'm Tasha. This is my husband, Tristan.” Your mother answered, motioning to your father. “And this is our youngest son, Christophe.” She said, resting her hand on his shoulder.
“Your house is ginormous!” Christophe replied, his mouth hanging open.
Marianne and Colin chuckled, warmed. “Please, come in and make yourselves at home.” She said, motioning into the living room, where most of the group was congregating. “The other kids are playing in the backyard, if you want to join them, Christophe.” She offered your brother, then showed him the way out to the backyard.
“You want something to drink?” Henry asked you as you moved into the living room with everyone else.
“Yes, that would be fantastic.” You nodded, smiling up at him.
“All right.” Henry smiled back, kissing you softly, before going into the kitchen.
“Is it time yet?” Simon asked, coming into the kitchen with his little brother, to also grab himself and his wife something to drink.
“Soon.” Henry replied, pouring you a glass of chilled white wine. “I need the perfect moment.” He said, pouring himself a glass, then handed the bottle to Simon.
“Just don't chicken out.” Simon teased him, grinning.
“Chicken out of what?” Marianne asked, coming into the kitchen.
“The right moment.” Henry replied, feeling his face burn, and took a deep gulp of the chilled wine, trying to cool his face off and fortify his nerves.
“You'll find it, Henry.” She told him, rubbing his broad back, trying to be encouraging and supportive of her son. “Don't rush it.”
“I won't.” Henry sighed, picking up the two wine glasses. “I want it to be perfect.”
Henry took the glasses into the living room, finding you sitting on the couch and took a seat beside you, holding out one of the glasses. You smiled at him, taking the glass and kissed him on the cheek, before taking a sip of it. Henry wrapped an arm around you, sipped his wine and got caught up in the flow of the conversation that was going on with everybody.
“They're all so nice.” Your mother said as the two of you went into the kitchen for more wine.
“They really are.” You replied, smiling as you heard Henry's laugh carry into the kitchen. “They're incredibly loving and supportive, especially towards Henry and I.” You told her, then sighed.
Henry's mother had been right, people did find out about you being a Slummer, and it had happened sooner than both of you had thought it would.
A month after returning to London from Bristol, you and Henry were at a Cleric Fundraiser, which was held every year to raise money to donate to one of the lower Sectors, so they could use it as they saw fit; usually to help buy supplies for the Sector's Hospital. When a woman approached you, while Henry went to find the Fundraiser Manager, so he could donate money to the event.
“So, your High Marshal Cavill's new girl.” She said, lifting a sculpted brow at you.
“I am.” You replied, frowning at her, in her glittering and almost skin tight dress. “Who are you?”
“I'm Natasha, Beta Cleric Shaw's wife.” She told you, still giving you a mean and judgmental expression. “Henry and I dated, a while back.” She added, tossing her straight black hair over her shoulder with a swish of her head. “We were serious, for a moment, before I left him.” She said, an evil smugness glinting in her gray eyes.
“I never thought Henry would stoop so low, as to date a Slummer.” She said, her upper lip curling with distaste.
“H-how do you know that?” You asked, gulping and feeling your hands tremble.
“My husband was on the Council panel, when you testified against Oron Anderson.” Natasha replied, resting a hand on her hip. “He told me all about you being from Sector Twenty-Eight and how long you spent in that trafficker's warehouse in Thirty-One; before Henry bought you.”
“How's it feel to be his bought and paid for play thing?” She asked, looking you over.
“I'm not.” You replied, your voice barely audible.
“You can think that and Henry can tell you that, but we-” She motioned around the room, the gold and diamond bangles rattling on her thin wrist. “All know the truth.” She told you, tipping her nose up at you, then walked away.
Your breath hitched in your throat as hot tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, before turning your back to her and rushed out of the room. Henry had been halfway back, just missing Natasha walking away from you, when he saw the look of anguish on your face and rush out of the room. Scanning the room, trying to see what had caused it, Henry rushed after you. You took your heels off as you got out the front doors of the venue and ran into the manicured garden to the side of it. Henry finally caught up with you, finding you gulping down deep mouthfuls of cold night air by a massive fountain.
“Hey.” He whispered, resting his hand on your goosebump and chilled skin. “What's wrong?” He asked, shrugging out of his blazer and draping it over your shaking shoulders, before hugging you against his chest, your tears spilling over onto his dark gray dress shirt.
“What happened? Tell me.”
“They know.” You sobbed, clinging onto him and getting makeup all over his shirt.
“Who knows what, babe?” He asked, cupping your head in his hands and pulled your face away from his chest.
“They know what I am.” You cried, your bottom lip puffy and trembling.
Henry blinked at you for a moment, before his brain connected to what you meant and his eyes widened.
“Yeah.” You gasped and sighed. “They know I'm just a fucking sl-”
“Don't.” He snapped, shaking his head at you.
“I am, Henry.” You hissed back at him, becoming angry. “I'm a Slummer and they know it.” You huffed, trying to pull away from him.
Henry bit his lip, biting back his own frustrated anger. “Who told you this?” He demanded, keeping a hold on you.
“Your ex.”
Henry's shoulders slumped and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Natasha.” He growled between clenched teeth.
“Yes, her.” You nodded, folding your arms inside his blazer. “Told me how the two of you dated, before she left you, and that everyone knew that I was a Slummer, because her husband told her about me testifying at Twist's trial.”
“How the hell does she know you testified at Twist's trial.” Henry frowned, taken aback.
“Her husband is, apparently, Beta Cleric Shaw.”
“So, she did end up with a Cleric after all.” Henry sighed, shaking his head.
“What?” You snapped at him.
“The reason Natasha broke up with me, was because I wouldn't leave the Marshal Council to become either a Cleric or a Royal. She wanted that posh and expensive life that they have. But, I wouldn't do it, I love being a High Marshal. So, she left me, and apparently got what she wanted in the end.” He sighed, rubbing his face.
“But, I don't care about that. What I care about is her trying to hurt you.”
“She did a damn good job.” You whispered, staring down at your bare toes. “Called me, your bought and paid for plaything.”
“Look at me.” He whispered, touching his fingertips underneath your chin and lifted your head, until your wet eyes met his. “You're not my 'bought and paid for' plaything. We both know that, sweetheart. She's just a salty and unhappy woman, that only gets her happiness out of watching others suffer, and other people might know about you being from the lower Sectors, but she's only one crazy enough to say anything about it to your, my, or any of my family's face or within earshot of us either.” He told you, gently swiping his thumbs beneath your eyes, wiping away your tears.
“As for her husband speaking about the trial, when he's not allowed to speak to anyone about it outside of the Councils, and she's nowhere near a position on them, he's going to be in a load of trouble, when I bring it up to my mum.”
“I don't want him to get into trouble because his wife is apparently a bitch.” You told him, grasping his wrists.
“I know you don't, love.” Henry smiled at you. “But, if he's talking to his wife about them, then he's more than likely talking to others he's not supposed to, and that's a breach and violation of his position. The Councils have to be told about it.” He explained to you.
“What, will you not tell me things, if I were your wife?” You asked him, trying to tease him.
“I'm a High Marshal, my job is less top secret and involved than a Cleric or Royal.” Henry replied, chuckling. “I don't know how interested you'd be in me talking about homicide cases, they tend to be a bit graphic.”
“I wouldn't mind. Especially, if you needed to get something off your chest, if one is really bothering you.” You confessed, biting your lip as you looked up at him, recalling all the nightmares you had soothed him through.
“I'll keep that in mind.” Henry smiled, kissing you. “You want to go back in?” He asked you, looking back at the building. “Or we could ditch it, go back home and have a movie night.”
You pressed your lips together, thinking about it. Part of you wanted to go back in and face Natasha's no doubt judgmental glares the rest of the night, showing her that you weren't going to be intimidated by her and what she thought, but if you were honest, now that you were calm, you didn't actually care what she thought.
“I like the idea of movie night.” You said, looking back up at Henry.
“So do I.” Henry agreed. “I'm dying for a pair of sweats.”
“You are?” You laughed, looking at yourself in the tight gown and your bare, but screaming, feet.
“I wouldn't mind helping you out of that.” Henry chuckled, grinning and winking at you.
You grinned up at him and had a feeling that the impromptu movie night wouldn't last long, if the expression on Henry's face was anything to go off of.
“What is it, honey?” Your mother asked, seeing that far off look in your eyes.
“Nothing.” You laughed, shaking it off.
The back door came flying open and several of the kids came running in from outside, yelling and screaming as they went to their respective parents.
“Christophe, what's the matter?” Your mother asked him, frowning.
“Come look! Come look!” He said, grabbing his mother's hand and dragging her out the back door.
You frowned after them and looked to Henry as he and everyone from the living room filed through the kitchen and out the back door. “What's going on, Babe?” You asked him, as he took your hand and guided you outside with them.
“It's snowing, Nugget.” He grinned at you, excited for you to see it.
You let Henry lead you outside, gasping as you stepped out onto the back deck and into the heavy flurry of thick white flakes. Henry smiled, moving to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you back against him, kissing the back of your hair and resting his chin on top of your head, gently swaying as you both watched the snow fly. You were memorized by it, even with how cold it was, tilting your head back and smiling up at Henry, who smiled back at you, kissing your forehead.
“I'll be right back, I have to grab something.” He said, letting go of you and going back inside.
“This is amazing.” Christophe said, and stuck his tongue out like Henry's nieces and nephews, catching the flakes on it.
You smirked at him, tilting your own head back a bit and did the same, giggling as the snowflakes melted on your tongue and oblivious of Henry coming up behind you.
“Babe?” He called out, getting your attention.
You turned around to face him, but had to drop your eyes down slightly, as he knelt before you in the gathering snow on the wood deck. “Henry?” You answered, blinked down at his, confused.
“Oh god.” You heard someone gasp.
“I know,” Henry started, looking incredibly worried and nervous. “we've been through a whole lot since we met, a year and a half a go, but for all that, I wouldn't have wanted to endure any of that, without you.” He explained, fidgeting and fumbling for something in his back pocket. “I love you. I want to be with you and spend the rest of my life with you, only you.”
“So, I want to ask you something.”
“Okay.” You grinned, feeling how warm your cheeks were getting and the flurry of butterflies flying around your stomach, like the snowflakes in the air around you.
“Will you marry me?” He asked, in a rush, his nerves getting the better of him, as he opened the box and revealed a beautiful diamond ring.
A huge smile pulled across your face and giggled nervously, you were speechless for a minute, completely stunned and surprised by Henry proposing to you, then finally managed to answer.
“Yes.” You nodded, giddy. “Yes!” You laughed.
“Oh thank god.” Henry laughed back, relieved, then slipped the ring onto your finger, standing up and wrapping his arms around you, kissing you deeply.
Everyone clapped and cheered, happy for the both of you.
Five months later, you and Henry walked down the aisle and married, in a private ceremony, attended only by friends and family, the people that mattered to the both of you, and it was two years after that, that you two of you moved into a house in his family's neighborhood and welcomed your first child, a boy, that you both mutually agreed on, and named, Michail. If it wasn't for your brother, in so many ways, neither you or Henry would have met and fallen in love.
Your life was perfect now and even though you had lost your brother, neither you or Henry would change it for anything.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Summary:
“If so, then maybe that WAS Claire.”
'Yes. Yes, it is ME! Please, believe it. Help me…' She wanted him so desperately to believe it…
“No! It defies all logic. Claire can’t be here. After that awful day, there’s no way…” Another sob ran through her body. She tried to gulp it back but failed miserably. And then, she just gave up and let herself cry. Slipping down the wall, she pulled her knees towards her chest as the sobs ripped through her body.
How had she never realized what she had done to the people all those years ago?! She’d only thought of her so far… how selfish! Not only the pain she’d caused her family and loved ones, no, she wasn’t talking about that. But the people who lost loved ones due to their experiment… how could they have done something like that? And it could happen again if Dimitri finished the time machine!
...
That was what would always happen when one played with time. Claire knew, had known all along if she was honest with herself, that she would eventually have to go back to that moment when her life had ended.
A/N:
Hello again!
First of all, I have to thank you SO MUCH. I received so much feedback for my last chapter in so little time, I still barely believe it. You guys are the best! I was so happy to read your compliments and how excited you were about where the story is headed. Thank you so much!
You also made me aware of some things I have neglected so far. I haven't realized that because, I have the entire story already planned out, so everything is logical for me. But you, of course, can't look into my head (and believe me, you don't want to) so you don't know about these things. A lot will become clear in later chapters, but I tried to interpose some things I had forgotten to tell you. But this chapter exists like this because of YOU. That is why I dedicated this chapter to anyone who ever left a comment on a chapter! You guys rock!
Anyways, because I have a lot of free time no the chapters will (hopefully) come more regular. And there is a lot to come, let me tell you that. A lot of reflection, character development, tension and... ah, no, I won't tell you anymore, you'll have to read for yourself ;) Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. Sorry for any mistakes (I'll probably edit them tomorrow when I'm at my phone where I interestingly enough keep finding all the mistakes I overlooked editing at my laptop).
Beneath a stagnant yellow sky lays a city that claims to be the London of the future. While many features remain recognizable, the atmosphere is strangely different from the London Layton and Luke left behind when they first entered the clock shop on Midland Road. Giant cogs, running wires, and steaming pipes provide an industrial feel, like a giant machine in motion. Spires pierce the ether, but even these fall short of a dark, towering pagoda that stands at the edge of the city's Chinatown. Across the Thames, an enormous facility and single lighthouse---all strongholds of the city's darkest secrets. From sunlit arcades, to narrow, seedy allies, it is a sprawling metropolis both familiar and alien.
Like St. Mystere and Folsense before it, Future London is not what is appears. It is nothing more than a facade, its purpose to fool those who have been brought to live and work in its confines and to provide its creators a secure place to carry out their complex plans. An amber tinted mirror of the true London, steaming and heaving towards its final breaths deep beneath the ground.
Future London was the brainchild of Clive who built it to serve as the initial staging ground for his multi-faceted revenge. Because of the loss of his parents and the cover-up of the accident that took their lives, Clive desired to destroy London, purging it of its corrupt government, and rebuilding it from the ground up. In Future London, one sees a reflection as well as a condemnation of all his aspirations.
In a sense, Future London is merely a stage for Clive and his "troupe" to act upon. He built the sets and cast the parts, giving himself a leading role. As Future Luke, Clive is one of the lone few willing to stand up to the Family and the evil Professor Layton. His is a heroic role, an underdog role, as he appears to risk his life to protect London and expose the truth alongside Layton and Luke. In his Future Luke role, there is an echo of his past struggles as a reporter working to uncover the truth, while Future London also echoes his own view of London as a corrupt city ruled by criminals. One could say that the whole setup of Future London (including the Future Luke role) serves as a reflection of Clive's view of himself in relation to London and its government. Going a little further, the future charade could be seen as wish-fulfillment on his part, as well as an attempt to justify what he is about to do. On this stage, he toys with ideas that finally come to fruition when he reveals the Mobile Fortress.
Ironically, Clive's real role in Future London is not as one of its saviors but the man behind the scenes, the real leader of the organization he appears so hard to struggle against. In other words, even as Clive fights against the Family and the evil of Future London he is all the while pulling the strings. Clive harbors immense hatred and anger for the two responsible for destroying his life, Dimitri Allen and Bill Hawks. Yet by his own hand, he unknowingly condemns himself alongside them. As the true mastermind of Future London his role is shockingly similar to those politicians and top scientists he so despises. Through his pawn Dimitri, the "Future Professor Layton", Clive conceals the truth of the city from its inhabitants through coercion and fear much like Bill Hawks covered up his own wrong-doing. In attempting to destroy those he hates, Clive has become one who uses very similar tactics of deceit and violence to accomplish his goals. It is this contradiction and tension between the false role Clive has given himself and his city and the real intentions/purposes of both that give the city its numerous layers.
The towns and cities of the Laytonverse are often closely linked to one individual and Future London is no different. Even more so than St. Mystere and Folsense, the illusion of Future London is closely bound up in Clive's character. Through it and the story he has given it, one sees woven a tapestry of his ambitions, his struggles, and even his attempts to justify his own actions. Even in the city's small details, such as the statue celebrating the friendship between the author and the boy, as well as the more beautiful parts of the city, one can see that Future London is not only the place Clive hid his Mobile Fortress but also his deepest longings that hint at his past losses. Yet in the end, Clive himself recognizes the city as only a facade, a pale reflection, when he destroys it and climbs from the crater towards his real prize: the true London he had both mocked and emulated.
