[Ficlets] It's Lord Now, Actually
Collection Title: It's Lord Now, Actually
Author: Shytan
Rating: G
Characters: Cutler Beckett, Weatherby Swann
Summary: How did Cutler Beckett and Weatherby Swann meet before DMC? Here are a few theories. These are based on responses from my weekend chat thread, so if you posted an idea there, chances are I wrote a ficlet inspired by it =) Speaking of which... can't wait to hear your idea when you finish your fic, Lady_Elizabeth2!
Warnings: -
Child in My Dreams, Lord in My Nightmares
Sunsetdawn20: I guess I always kind of assumed Weatherby knew Cutler's father and met the young Cutler a few times.
Weatherby Swann had always wanted a child. A sweet little girl with a plump little face, dressed in pink silk and satin and lace, making her frock swirl around her as she danced to her own tune. Yes, Weatherby Swann definitely wanted a little girl. Not a rowdy boy like the ruffians that played in the streets, pushing and shoving and getting mud all over their carefully tailored outfits as they yelled vile things to one another. Definitely not a boy. But one couldn't choose the gender of their child, they had to take whatever they were given.
Weatherby was distracted from his musings by the click of the door as it opened to reveal one of his casual acquaintances, a colleague by the name of Beckett. Weatherby gave Beckett a warm smile in greeting, then blinked in surprise as he noticed the small child trailing after the man.
"Is this your son?" Weatherby asked, nodding towards the well-dressed boy.
"Yes, this is Cutler. I didn't think anyone would mind if I brought him to work with me today, he'll only be here for the morning," Beckett replied, resting his hand gently on his son's curly brown hair.
"It's very nice to meet you, Cutler," Weatherby greeted the boy, who immediately backed up a step and hid behind his father.
"He takes after his mother," Beckett said with a grimace as he started towards his desk. Cutler followed him closely, chubby little fingers clinging to the back of his father's coat. The boy couldn't be more than four years old, Weatherby decided.
Unlike the foul-mouthed ruffians that Weatherby saw wrestling in the streets, Cutler was very quiet and unobtrusive. He sat silently beside his father's desk, inquisitive fingers exploring various objects he had found. He turned the small model ship that usually adorned his father's desk over in his hands, poking the sails gently and running his fingers over the wooden form with great care. The look of childish curiosity and innocence on his pale face made Weatherby stop to watch, his paternal instincts flaring up inside of him like a wildfire.
Cutler crawled to his feet and reached up to place the model ship back onto his father's desk. He then reached for a paperweight, which he ran his fingers over briefly before placing part of it in his mouth, causing his father to take it away from him. Beckett appeared to be absorbed in his paperwork, largely ignoring his son unless the small boy tried to suck on anything, which was promptly removed. With a little sniff, Cutler toddled around the side of the desk and stood beside his father, grasping the air above him as he silently asked to be picked up. Beckett paused in his writing and glanced down at the boy for a moment before adjusting his chair and placing young Cutler onto his lap. Cutler spent the rest of the morning there, sucking on his thumb, fiddling with the buttons on his father's coat and napping.
Perhaps if his child were as quiet and sweet-faced as the small boy across the room, it would be alright if his firstborn was not a girl, Weatherby decided.
Legend in my time, or only in my mind?
Fairielore: I've had it in my mind that Cutler was once a subordinate of sorts to Weatherby, seeing as how the 'I'm a Lord, now' comment seems kind of bitter.
Weatherby Swann was outraged. Who dared interrupt his daughter's wedding?
"Governor Weatherby Swann, it's been too long," Lord Beckett turned around, his expression deceitfully calm.
"Cutler Beckett?" Weatherby was taken aback as he recognised the man before him as one of his old work colleagues, a feisty young lad that had worked beneath him in the past.
"It's Lord now, actually," Cutler Beckett corrected, pride and victory dancing in his eyes.
"Lord or not, you have no authority to arrest this man!" Weatherby argued, surprised at how far the man had come. Cutler Beckett had been nothing more than a paper pusher when Weatherby last saw him, a fairly green one that had been making his way up the food chain at a generous rate. The Governor had never doubted that young Cutler was highly intelligent, and he had felt that if the boy could put aside his mild arrogance and delusions of grandeur that he would go places, yet he never foresaw this. Seeing Cutler's grand plans materialised before him, Weatherby was both astounded and wary. The boy's words had been easily dismissed and even chuckled at quietly when he was out of earshot, but to see them ring true was rather frightening.
"In fact I do," Cutler smiled lazily as he handed the document to his former superior. "Here is the warrant for the arrest of one William Turner."
"... this warrant is for Elizabeth!" Weatherby gasped. In that moment, his suspicions were confirmed. Cutler Beckett had clawed his way to the top, and although he appeared calm and noble and clean on the outside, he had left a well-hidden trail of destruction behind him. Unbeknownst to the Governor, he too would become a part of that trail.
Vengeance Born from Sorrow
Cassiopaya: I wonder if Cutler was a second son who wasn't supposed to inherit, but somehow did due to an unusual set of circumstances. I think it would be interesting if everyone assumed he had his older brother killed, but he actually didn't.
"We have yet to agree on when to talk to our son about that," Lady Hastings admitted, glancing at her husband beside her, who nodded in assent.
"It is never too early to prepare the firstborn for when they will manage their inheritance, especially if it will be sizeable or complicated," Baron Georges said with a sniff.
"I feel there is little reason to bother a child with things like that at such a young age. Four is definitely far too young in my opinion," Governor Swann disagreed.
"What are your feelings on the matter, Lord Beckett?" Georges turned to regard the fifth member of the conversation circle, who had thus far been unusually quiet. The various esteemed members of high society in Port Royal were attending a ball held in celebration of the upcoming new year.
"Oh, uh... I'm not really sure," Lord Beckett admitted, taking a sip of his wine.
"How old were you when your parents discussed your father's business and your inheritance with you, if you don't mind me asking?" Lord Hastings prompted.
"I was about nineteen," Beckett said.
"Nineteen?" Georges exclaimed, surprised.
"Well I wasn't supposed to inherit, I'm the second son," Beckett explained, taking another sip of his drink.
"I was unaware you had an older brother," Governor Swann said in mild surprise, his expression matching the slight startlement that graced the faces of the others. The Baron was not surprised for the same reason as Swann and the Hastings were, however.
"His name was Hunter, wasn't it? He died at sea, I heard," Georges said suspiciously.
"Yes, he was twenty-two. I was nineteen," Beckett answered as he stared at the floor to the side. He had never spoken to others about his older brother before. "He was killed by pirates, they attacked his merchant vessel."
"That must have been difficult," Governor Swann offered.
"It was kind of ironic, really. I was always the sickly one." Beckett paused, finally shifting his gaze up to meet the eyes of the Governor. "I know it sounds silly, but back then I thought he would live forever. He was just one of those strong people that you always knew would be alright."
"I've known people like that. It's such a shock when they go, especially when it's all of a sudden," Lady Hastings empathised.
"So suddenly you were landed the entire Beckett fortune?" Georges interjected rather abruptly.
"It was very surreal, I was completely unprepared for it." Beckett assented, his voice regained its usual strength.
"Which is why it is important to teach children about money and business at a young age," Georges swung the conversation back to his original point, displeased that there was no substance to the barely existant rumours surrounding Hunter Beckett's death.
Author: Shytan
Rating: G
Characters: Cutler Beckett, Weatherby Swann
Summary: How did Cutler Beckett and Weatherby Swann meet before DMC? Here are a few theories. These are based on responses from my weekend chat thread, so if you posted an idea there, chances are I wrote a ficlet inspired by it =) Speaking of which... can't wait to hear your idea when you finish your fic, Lady_Elizabeth2!
Warnings: -
Child in My Dreams, Lord in My Nightmares
Sunsetdawn20: I guess I always kind of assumed Weatherby knew Cutler's father and met the young Cutler a few times.
Weatherby Swann had always wanted a child. A sweet little girl with a plump little face, dressed in pink silk and satin and lace, making her frock swirl around her as she danced to her own tune. Yes, Weatherby Swann definitely wanted a little girl. Not a rowdy boy like the ruffians that played in the streets, pushing and shoving and getting mud all over their carefully tailored outfits as they yelled vile things to one another. Definitely not a boy. But one couldn't choose the gender of their child, they had to take whatever they were given.
Weatherby was distracted from his musings by the click of the door as it opened to reveal one of his casual acquaintances, a colleague by the name of Beckett. Weatherby gave Beckett a warm smile in greeting, then blinked in surprise as he noticed the small child trailing after the man.
"Is this your son?" Weatherby asked, nodding towards the well-dressed boy.
"Yes, this is Cutler. I didn't think anyone would mind if I brought him to work with me today, he'll only be here for the morning," Beckett replied, resting his hand gently on his son's curly brown hair.
"It's very nice to meet you, Cutler," Weatherby greeted the boy, who immediately backed up a step and hid behind his father.
"He takes after his mother," Beckett said with a grimace as he started towards his desk. Cutler followed him closely, chubby little fingers clinging to the back of his father's coat. The boy couldn't be more than four years old, Weatherby decided.
Unlike the foul-mouthed ruffians that Weatherby saw wrestling in the streets, Cutler was very quiet and unobtrusive. He sat silently beside his father's desk, inquisitive fingers exploring various objects he had found. He turned the small model ship that usually adorned his father's desk over in his hands, poking the sails gently and running his fingers over the wooden form with great care. The look of childish curiosity and innocence on his pale face made Weatherby stop to watch, his paternal instincts flaring up inside of him like a wildfire.
Cutler crawled to his feet and reached up to place the model ship back onto his father's desk. He then reached for a paperweight, which he ran his fingers over briefly before placing part of it in his mouth, causing his father to take it away from him. Beckett appeared to be absorbed in his paperwork, largely ignoring his son unless the small boy tried to suck on anything, which was promptly removed. With a little sniff, Cutler toddled around the side of the desk and stood beside his father, grasping the air above him as he silently asked to be picked up. Beckett paused in his writing and glanced down at the boy for a moment before adjusting his chair and placing young Cutler onto his lap. Cutler spent the rest of the morning there, sucking on his thumb, fiddling with the buttons on his father's coat and napping.
Perhaps if his child were as quiet and sweet-faced as the small boy across the room, it would be alright if his firstborn was not a girl, Weatherby decided.
Legend in my time, or only in my mind?
Fairielore: I've had it in my mind that Cutler was once a subordinate of sorts to Weatherby, seeing as how the 'I'm a Lord, now' comment seems kind of bitter.
Weatherby Swann was outraged. Who dared interrupt his daughter's wedding?
"Governor Weatherby Swann, it's been too long," Lord Beckett turned around, his expression deceitfully calm.
"Cutler Beckett?" Weatherby was taken aback as he recognised the man before him as one of his old work colleagues, a feisty young lad that had worked beneath him in the past.
"It's Lord now, actually," Cutler Beckett corrected, pride and victory dancing in his eyes.
"Lord or not, you have no authority to arrest this man!" Weatherby argued, surprised at how far the man had come. Cutler Beckett had been nothing more than a paper pusher when Weatherby last saw him, a fairly green one that had been making his way up the food chain at a generous rate. The Governor had never doubted that young Cutler was highly intelligent, and he had felt that if the boy could put aside his mild arrogance and delusions of grandeur that he would go places, yet he never foresaw this. Seeing Cutler's grand plans materialised before him, Weatherby was both astounded and wary. The boy's words had been easily dismissed and even chuckled at quietly when he was out of earshot, but to see them ring true was rather frightening.
"In fact I do," Cutler smiled lazily as he handed the document to his former superior. "Here is the warrant for the arrest of one William Turner."
"... this warrant is for Elizabeth!" Weatherby gasped. In that moment, his suspicions were confirmed. Cutler Beckett had clawed his way to the top, and although he appeared calm and noble and clean on the outside, he had left a well-hidden trail of destruction behind him. Unbeknownst to the Governor, he too would become a part of that trail.
Vengeance Born from Sorrow
Cassiopaya: I wonder if Cutler was a second son who wasn't supposed to inherit, but somehow did due to an unusual set of circumstances. I think it would be interesting if everyone assumed he had his older brother killed, but he actually didn't.
"We have yet to agree on when to talk to our son about that," Lady Hastings admitted, glancing at her husband beside her, who nodded in assent.
"It is never too early to prepare the firstborn for when they will manage their inheritance, especially if it will be sizeable or complicated," Baron Georges said with a sniff.
"I feel there is little reason to bother a child with things like that at such a young age. Four is definitely far too young in my opinion," Governor Swann disagreed.
"What are your feelings on the matter, Lord Beckett?" Georges turned to regard the fifth member of the conversation circle, who had thus far been unusually quiet. The various esteemed members of high society in Port Royal were attending a ball held in celebration of the upcoming new year.
"Oh, uh... I'm not really sure," Lord Beckett admitted, taking a sip of his wine.
"How old were you when your parents discussed your father's business and your inheritance with you, if you don't mind me asking?" Lord Hastings prompted.
"I was about nineteen," Beckett said.
"Nineteen?" Georges exclaimed, surprised.
"Well I wasn't supposed to inherit, I'm the second son," Beckett explained, taking another sip of his drink.
"I was unaware you had an older brother," Governor Swann said in mild surprise, his expression matching the slight startlement that graced the faces of the others. The Baron was not surprised for the same reason as Swann and the Hastings were, however.
"His name was Hunter, wasn't it? He died at sea, I heard," Georges said suspiciously.
"Yes, he was twenty-two. I was nineteen," Beckett answered as he stared at the floor to the side. He had never spoken to others about his older brother before. "He was killed by pirates, they attacked his merchant vessel."
"That must have been difficult," Governor Swann offered.
"It was kind of ironic, really. I was always the sickly one." Beckett paused, finally shifting his gaze up to meet the eyes of the Governor. "I know it sounds silly, but back then I thought he would live forever. He was just one of those strong people that you always knew would be alright."
"I've known people like that. It's such a shock when they go, especially when it's all of a sudden," Lady Hastings empathised.
"So suddenly you were landed the entire Beckett fortune?" Georges interjected rather abruptly.
"It was very surreal, I was completely unprepared for it." Beckett assented, his voice regained its usual strength.
"Which is why it is important to teach children about money and business at a young age," Georges swung the conversation back to his original point, displeased that there was no substance to the barely existant rumours surrounding Hunter Beckett's death.