Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sun hung just above the treetops. The dirt path lead through the wood to a small cottage on the edge of town. It was humble, yet quaint. A garden rolled out from the walls of the building, flora and herbs spilling from the beds in a tangled mat.

The front entrance faced away from the town, a bit unusual. There was only a bit of an awning over the door, the dirt was packed where a porch would sit. Large pots held more foliage, keeping the vines from the garden away from their contents.

The cloaked figure knocked once before entering the home.

The inside of the abode was just as green. Plants hung from the ceiling, trailing stems towards the light. each surface held some kind of foreign herb in a myriad of different containers. Many looked as though they were recycled remnants from the nearby town. Teapots, pitchers, and cracked jugs all held their fair share of plants.

The tenant was in the middle of watering his collection when he jolted at the sound of the door. He was a lean man, standing just above average height. His hair and eyes were a deep auburn, like the heather brush on the nearby hills. His skin was pale, a bit lackluster, likely suggesting the meagre meals he was living off of. The newcomer lowered their hood to reveal their tan freckled face and elegant circlet.

Shock spread across his features as the hooded figure revealed their face. "Your Highness!" He stumbled into an attempt of a bow. "What brings you all the way out here to-" he stammered, not sure how to refer to himself. "-to a humble herbalist's abode?"

"Henry Jekyll I presume?" The prince asked removing his heavy cloak, tucking it over his arm.

"Ah- yes, that is I." Henry scurried about the small cottage as the prince made his way in. He quickly cleared a space for the prince to sit and started washing up his water pitcher. "Please make yourself comfortable Sir Lanyon, is there anything I can do for you?"

"Actually yes, that's why I'm here." Robert casually took in the room, from the dusty piles of books to the hanging bundles of herbs drying amongst the rafters. He returned his attention to the lithe herbalist by the window. "I have a certain... condition which the doctors of the court have yet to cure. I have been lead to believe by the people of this town that you may be of use in situations like these."

Henry turned to the prince, confused. The afternoon sun streaming through the window lit up the royal's face like a church window. His hair reflected the light looking as metallic as the circlet resting on his brow. It was hard not to stare. Henry shook himself mentally and continued.

"Your highness, with all due respect I'm sure my care is no match for your court doctors." He spread his hands in a gesture of defeat as he sat across from Prince Robert Lanyon.

Lanyon shook his head. "The town's folk say otherwise. These doctors are so focused on their textbooks and teachings, I have a feeling your natural approach may prove more effective." He replied with a gentle smile.

As he inhaled his breath caught in his throat. The prince grabbed at his chest, leaning forward in a fit of coughing.

Henry stood with a start. "This is the ailment you speak of?"

The prince nodded viciously as he clutched his chest, the mucus in his air passages blocked his breath.

Henry dashed to his cabinet and shook leaves from a vial. He snipped some more from a hanging bundle and tied the loose leaves up in a thin cloth. With as much grace as a hurried doctor could manage, he kneeled in front of the prince and held up the hasty satchet.

"Inhale," he ordered under his breath.

The prince clutched the satchet in his hands and inhaled as he was told, gasping for air. Henry gingerly placed a hand at the back of the prince's head, supporting him through his fit. The gasping slowed down to wheezing, and in a few moments the fit subsided.

Lowering the satchet, Robert looked to the herbalist kneeling beside him. As air flooded his lungs again he felt a light rush of relief. "Your local renown is most certainly just." He exhaled.

Henry shook his head dejectedly, "I can ease fits, but a chronic coughing sickness is nothing I can cure." He stood and began collecting more ingredients from his stores.

"I can supply you with some herbal reliefs, but they wont end your condition I'm afraid."

"Well if this condition is chronic I'll simply bring you with me."

Henry turned with a start. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're a renowned herbalist, yet you hardly have any business. Surely a position in the capital would do you better than this," Robert hesitated with a vague gesture indicating the house as a whole, "simple cottage."

"I- well-" Henry's stammering trailed off as his mind began to spin. Business was slow, hardly any of the towns people visited him anymore since-

Maybe a change of position would be a good thing.

"Your Highness are you sure? Yes I know herbs and plants but, do you really want your name tangled with mine?"

The suggestion confused Lanyon but peaked his interest. "Your name? What have you done that causes you to worry for my reputation."

Jekyll flushed. Surely the prince had heard the towns rumors? He wrung his hands and avoided eye contact. "Well, business has been slow due to... a number of rumors Sir."

"Such as?"

Jekyll sighed and ran his hands through his hair, shifting his gaze to the ceiling. "I've been called a number of things, from witch to demon. You don't need my association sullying your name."

The prince scoffed, catching Jekyll by surprise. "Nonsense, a bit of herbs and plants isn't arcane. Besides, a royal name would need more mark than that to sully it." He stood from his seat and fastened his cloak around his shoulders.

"Ready your things. You'll leave with me this evening."

Chapter Text

The carriage ride was short and quiet. Jekyll still hadn't wrapped his head around the fact that he had just been hand picked by the prince.

As his little toy witch. A hissing voice whispered in the back of his mind.

Jekyll grimaced and shooed the thought away. He was no witch, he was an herbalist.

An herbalist who's used some unusual means.

Jekyll felt the familiar grin over his shoulder as he followed Lanyon from the carriage into the castle's keep. Clutching one of his potted plants before him, Jekyll marveled at his new surroundings. Almost every surface was a carefully polished granite or marble. The main halls were grand with vaulted ceilings.

As they made their way further into the keep, the vast marble halls turned into elegant passages. Their were wooden floors and portraits lining the walls.

After two stairwells and turns too numerous to count, they arrived at a doorway where Lanyon paused.

"This has been fitted as your room, I hope you'll find everything pleasantly suitable. What plants and supplies you brought will make their way up here, theres no need to worry for that. If theres anything you need feel free to ask any of the staff or myself, everyone has been made aware of your presence."

Jekyll nodded along and swallowed nervously, and entire castle staff was a lot to take in.

"I will introduce you to my father and the court tonight at dinner. You have about an hour so feel free to make yourself comfortable."

Lanyon turned to leave but paused again, turning back to his new herbalist. "I did leave some new clothes for you if you'd like to change. Currently they're simply extras we had about, but I can get you fitted into something more comfortable another time."

He seemed to scan Jekyll's appearance with mild disdain before altering his expression into a pleasant smile. "I'll see you then, take care Dr. Jekyll." And with that he made his way down the hall and turned into the labyrinth of the keep's halls.

Jekyll stood a moment lost in thought. Doctor?

Looks like you've been promoted witch boy.

Jekyll again ignored the voice and headed into his new room.

It was a corner room, windows opened up on walls to the south and east. They would let in enough sun light for all his plants, but now with the sunsetting the sky glowed umber. The window on the southern wall was a bay window with a plush seat. Jekyll would likely remove that to house some of his collection. The north wall where he entered held some shelves, a chest, and an elegant armoire. The room also contained a small writing desk, and the most comfortable looking bed he'd ever seen.

Jekyll placed his potted plant in the bay window and turned to admire the room again.

Lavish isnt it? Wait till they find out the arcane nonsense you've been up to.

Jekyll glanced behind him. The green apparition at his shoulder had been haunting him for what felt like ages.

"No one will find out about that, it's in the past."

Oh they most certainly will. Though you're right, what's done is done. But surely you'll need my help again. Besides, you have yet to pay me back.

"Paid you-" before he could even finish his query he was flooded with images. Blood. So much blood. A circle on the floor flaring to life. Screams of pain. His hands black as charcoal. Green light.

Don't act a fool dear doctor, I helped you with your little werewolf problem. Now it's my turn to have some fun.

Jekyll crossed the room to the armoire and began examining his new attire.

"And what exactly do demons do for fun? Is my soul not enough for you?"

Oh souls are delectable of course, bit by bit I'll have yours I'm sure. But what comes with pieces of the soul is the entertaining part.

As his demon spoke, Jekyll reached out for a top, but mid movement he felt his arm jolt in another direction. It felt as if his wrist was yanked by invisible shackles, the motion spun him around. Leering over him, the green apparition smiled.

I'll let you have your dinner, but tonight is mine.

Chapter Text

Lanyon was making his way to Dr. Jekyll's chambers when he saw the man exit his room. The sight made him pause in the hall. The slender man looked elegant in his borrowed doublet of pomegranate maroon. The color did an excellent job of emphasizing the doctor's unique eyes. Matching briches rose up to his waist, tucking in a billowing collared shirt. Without the linen and a twigs in his hair, he looked like a proper gentleman. A strange feeling welled in Lanyon's chest, a slight twinge. He readily dismissed it and greeted the doctor, who was anxiously adjusting his clothing around him.

"You look well and polished good doctor."

Jekyll perked up at the voice, he hadn't expected an escort. Lanyon looked even more lavish in his dinner clothes. What Jekyll had thought was extravagant before was only dull traveling clothes compared to the embroidered ensemble the man before him wore.

"Your Highness," Jekyll bowed, more gracefully this time.

"Oh, no need doctor," Lanyon dismissed the gesture. "The pleasantries are for formal situations. Now come, the court is curious to meet our new herbalist."

Lanyon waited for the doctor to join his side before strolling down the passageways. He couldn't keep from glancing at the man as they walked along. He noticed the insessent wringing of his hands and the mildly distraught look on his doctor's face.

"Worried?"

"Very. It's not every day I meet a royal family."

"Soon enough it shall be your everyday." Lanyon reminded with a laugh. "But to sooth your worries, you can talk as little as you please. The only thing you need to know is to address my mother and father as Majesty, but that's common knowledge no?"

"You speak of it all so plainly." Jekyll sighed. "Did the world of formalities and etiquette ever worry you?" He looked up from under his brow with the timid question.

Lanyon thought very briefly on the subject. "No, I suppose it never did." He concluded. He looked to his companion, "When you're raised in this world, formality has its own familiarity. It's like putting on a proper coat for the occasion. It's nothing more than a performance really."

Jekyll admired the confidence that shone through Lanyon's disposition. Maybe he could learn the ways of etiquette and formality. He wanted to be able to carry himself as effortlessly as Prince Lanyon did.

Two large wooden doors opened into the dining room. A long table was set in the middle of the grand hall. Columns lined the walls, interspersed with sconces and hallways that staff members entered and exited through like busy ants. With all the space in the room, Jekyll assumed this also doubled as the ball room. The ceiling arched up into a large dome and an iron rod chandelier hung from the center.

There were already guests sitting at the table. Lanyon guided Jekyll to the two empty seats beside his father.

They were welcomed earnestly by His Majesty Hastie Lanyon at one end of the table and his wife her Majesty the Queen at the other. While there were other guest, most seemed more interested in the meal than they did the herbalist. The prince leaned in close to Jekyll as some spoke, telling him their names and positions in the court.

Across from them was Sir Danvers Carew, an honorable yet retired Knight of the kingdom. To his right sat his daughter Dame Emma, a fine young woman who had also recently been knighted.

There were plenty of Lords and Ladies; Lord Glossop, Lady Beconsfield, Lord Savage. Another knight, Sir Archibald Proops, seemed to eye Jekyll but said nothing.

Like the carriage ride Jekyll remained quiet, he hardly risked the chance of embarrassing himself in front of such an esteemed ensemble. Dame Emma asked a few questions about his practice and specialties which he answered as plainly as possible. During Jekyll's retelling of how he arrived at the castle, the prince reached under the table to grab Jekyll's hand with a reassuring squeeze.

Jekyll nearly jumped but restrained himself, noticing the beaming look upon the princes face. He seemed proud of Jekyll. Henry's brief scare was replaced with a flutter in his chest, though he was unaware of what that entailed.

After the meal was over and guests began to leave, Lanyon stood and offered his arm to Jekyll. "Shall we?"

Jekyll righted himself and took the offered arm linking them together. It must be a formal gesture.

Lanyon bid goodnight to his father and escorted Jekyll to his room. The passages ways started to seem familiar. They arrived to the door in no time at all. The two exchanged their goodbyes and for the first time since he had arrived, Jekyll felt at ease.

As Lanyon made his exit, Jekyll smiled to himself and entered his room. The door clicked shut behind him, and a stabbing pain seared through his chest.

Jekyll screamed.

Chapter Text

The pain started in his chest. A searing sensation, flesh burning on iron. Jekyll felt flames lick up his throat. He clutched at his chest, gasping for air. It felt as if smog smothered his breath.

He staggered forward into the room, but the pain only intensified. He held his head as it throbbed, pulling at his hair to distract from the pain. This was greater than anything he had ever experienced. His whole body felt aflame.

He fell to the floor, arching his back as he felt claws rip through his skin. Through his cries of agony he saw his hands, black. He shrieked at the sight looking wildly around the room. His whole body shook. He couldn't find him. He didn't see the apparition.

Suddenly his eyes burned, as if splashed with acid. He clawed at his own eyes as green flames licked through his fingers.

Despite fighting as hard as he could, the pain overwhelmed him and he lie defeated on the ground, curled around himself.

Somehow the pain seemed to distance itself from him. Jekyll felt it recede. Rather, he felt himself floating. Rather, he couldn't feel his body at all.

His body pushed itself back into his knees, though it was no longer Jekyll's. His frame was smaller, his hair wild and pale, and when he looked up his eyes glowed green like phosphorescent plankton along the shore.

Looking at his new form the figure laughed, he raked his hands through his hair, the laugh growing more and more vigorous.

"Free!" he cried wildly into the night.

Demon!? What is this?

"Oh this good doctor?" The demon said with a sly gesture to his body. "This is your payment. This is what I can do with your soul."

He gazed victoriously at himself in the mirror. His expression grew sour at the sight of his clothes.

"This won't do at all."

The demon ransacked the armoire until he found an olive leather jerkin, and a dark shoulder cloak. With a quick glance in the mirror he felt much more comfortable, especially now that he was out of that horrid red.

The demon leaned out the doorway, gazing down the halls. Good, no one had heard the doctor's pitiful screams.

He slid through the passageways and down each stairwell until he smelled- was that pastries?

His stomach growled, years spent roaming the depths of hell really does a number to ones appetite.

He followed his nose until he found the kitchen. It was near the dining hall and at this hour no one was present, except for one. A young girl with outrageously curly hair tied back behind her head. She was removing a platter of baked goods from the stone oven as the demon entered the room.

"Oh hello there love!" She greeted. "You need something?"

"Yes… One of these." The demon growled snatching up a pastry.

The young lady gasped, mildly offended. "Those aren't for you!"

"Oh?" The demon was mid bite in his meal. "Then who are they for?" Crumbs spilled from his mouth as he spoke.

Holding the tray away from him she replied. "That's none of your concern. My concern though is to the nature of yourself. Who might you be?"

The demon's sugar filled mouth spread into a wide grin. "I'm the demon who lurks the streets at night, I hide in the shadows and fill your nightmares. I'm the base desires mankind feels deep within their souls. I'm a spirit of immense power!" With his final proclamation he found himself standing on the table in the center of the room.

"Ah right, and does this powerful spirit have a name?"

He leered a moment, thinking, before his grin returned. "Hyde." He hissed. "Edward Hyde."

"Lovely to meet you Mr. Hyde, my name is Rachel Pidgley! Now if you wouldn't mind getting down from that table, I have a friend to visit."

"A friend?" Hyde asked, meekly returning to the floor.

"Yes a good friend." She sighed. "You can come along if you'd like, but you have to be quiet." She ordered. She began placing the pastries in a small basket. Hyde's stomach growled again. He stepped closer to Rachel and reached towards the basket.

She glanced towards his hand and then to his face. It was pleading and almost adorable. "Alright you can have another, though I'll make you something decent when we get back." She handed Hyde another pastry which he ate ravenously.

The two of them crept quietly down the halls. Here on the first floor most halls were grand and tiled, but Rachel seemed to know some back passages, hidden hallways. Without seeing another living soul they made it outside to the stable yard. Just beyond lie a small gate through the outer wall, a back passage?

Rachel led them to the gate, opened it quietly and looked outside. "Jasper?" She whispered.

There was a rustle in the bushes nearby before a scraggly looking ginger popped out.

"Miss Rachel! Thank you so much," Jasper took the basket Rachel offered and stuffed the wrapped pastries in his bag.

"Of course Jasper, any time. You need to take care of yourself just as much as your animals." She chided.

"I know I know, I try," he replied. It sounded like a stretch. "Keppler helps me out alright, and they're going to help me set up at Blackfog so that should help out my funds some."

"Blackfog?" Hyde interjected.

The other two seemed to notice Hyde's presence for the first time. Jasper almost jumped.

"Oh right! Jasper this is Mr. Hyde. Hyde, this is Mr. Kaylock."

Jasper held out a hand, "Pleasure to meet you sir."

"The pleasure's mine Kaylock. Now please, elaborate on this Blackfog."

Jasper seemed to perk up. "Oh right! So Blackfog is this big bazaar that comes to town every so often. It's an underground market of course so it's hard to find, but this year Keppler is helping me set up shop to try and make some money for me animals!" Jasper seemed to sparkle at the thought.

Underground market took hold of Hyde's interest like a viper striking its prey. "What kinds of products are sold at a market like this?"

"Oh you know, anything arcane and occult. I'll be selling effects from my animal collection! Feathers, scales, all naturally harvested of course!" Jasper added like it was part of a script he'd been working on. "It'll be my first time at the market, but my pal has been setting up for the past few years with their own unique collection. You see-" Jasper was cut short with a glance down at their arms, emitting a surprised yelp. Fur started to bristle from their skin.

"Jasper!" Rachel hissed, "tonight's the full moon?!"

"Its cloudy out! I forgot!"

"You don't mean to tell me you're a werewolf, are you?"

Both Rachel and Jasper blinked at Hyde in shock.

"What, it's not my first time dealing with lycan folk."

Jasper looked like he wanted to say more but Rachel cut him off.

"You need to get home as soon as you can, go!"

Jasper nodded and waved at them both, "G'night then!" Before scampering off towards the town.

Rachel sighed and tucked some loose hair behind her ear before looking back to Hyde. "Let's get you something decent to eat, yea?"

Hyde was still watching after the wereboy. Blackfog still held his interest as tight as a vice grip, but if he wanted to visit he would need to make sure Jekyll stayed employed at the castle. That meant being up in the morning and present for whatever the little prince wanted him for, so adventures this late in the night were out of the question.

"Alright," he agreed. "Lead the way good Rachel."

Chapter Text

Jekyll awoke groggily to knocking at his door. His entire body ached from the night before.

"Your Highness wishes you to attend his training this morning with Dame Carew!" Called a familiar voice.

Rachel?

Oh, they hadn't necessarily met yet. She had met Hyde,… his personal assistant?

Listen, it was the best I could do on short notice. Countered the familiar demonic voice from the back of his mind.

"But I arrived alone, the whole castle knows that."

You have the prince on your side, he's a silver tongued devil, have him work it out.

Jekyll groaned and rubbed his face before kicking himself out of his sheets.

Be grateful I didn't drag your sad excuse of a vessel to Blackfog last night. While it's the place of my dreams, I still need you employed.

Jekyll sighed. "Yes I suppose I can thank you for that." He searched through the armoire for his borrowed attire. "If there's anyway to avoid the… brutality of that transformation, I could try to work with you on some of these things." It was a stretch, but Jekyll thought he might be able to find a way to ease his pain in this demonic contract he found himself stuck in.

Nope, sorry about that witch boy, that's just something you'll have to get used to. The apparition flicked a snake like tongue over his lips.

Jekyll felt his shoulders sink.

It didn't take him long to get ready. He got dressed and packed up a few herbal remedies incase the prince had another fit. He decided it would be best to always keep some on hand.

Prince Lanyon was waiting for him in the main hall and smiled at Jekyll's approach. Jekyll felt the same unusual aching feeling in his chest in response to the expression. The same feeling that he had when he saw prince Lanyon the night before. Jekyll smiled through the pain and greeted the prince.

"Thank you for accompanying me doctor. I tend to have flare ups when exerting myself." Lanyon admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "Besides, I thought afterwards we could get you fitted into something more suitable?"

Jekyll nodded as the two walked side by side to the courtyards. "That would be lovely Your Highness."

Even for being held within the castle walls, the grounds were expansive. They strolled over pathways between trimmed hedges, past a fountain spilling water, until they reached a patch of packed earth. Dame Carew waited for them. Her honeyed hair was tied back in a braided crown. She wore riding breeches and a leather jerkin over a loose shirt. She bowed as the prince approached, half her body weight was supported on wooden swords she used like a cane.

"Your Highness, Doctor Jekyll, A good morning I hope."

"Indeed Dame Carew, now let's get on with this before we bore my newest companion to death."

Jekyll cocked his head, why would the prince be concerned about him? "I don't mind really," he pressed. Before he could continue Dame Carew interrupted.

"Good. Because we have a lot to go over."

The indignation was plain on Prince Lanyon's face but he conceded and removed his doublet, layering over a similar leather jerkin a nearby staff member provided.

Jekyll perched himself on a nearby bench and observed. Carew ran Lanyon through some drills, repetitions of particular swings, parry defenses, and side steps.

The doctor could see his prince grow weary quickly. His breath was uneven and shallow, but he continued on anyway. Perspiration began to gather on his brow as he continued working with the knight.

After drills were done, Carew gestured to one of the staff who retrieved a metal breastplate for her. One was provided to the prince as well, who seemed dismayed at the sight, but resigned and fit himself into the piece.

Carew switched out their wooden swords for metal short swords. Likely unsharpened, but certainly heavier. Lanyon's form seemed more tense with the new weapon.

They drilled again. Strikes, parrys, side steps. All the while Jekyll could see clearly the signs of overexertion in his prince's demeanor. He could hear his breath from his place on the bench. It was harsh in tone. His arms shook from the weight of the blade, and likely the breastplate added to the strain.

Jekyll stood and stepped towards Carew. "I think today has been enough for-"

"No."

Jekyll turned. Lanyon's breath was ragged but the tone in his voice was adamant.

"I may look weak doctor, but I'm not done yet."

Jekyll's whole form felt icy. Insult was the last thing he had intended by his interruption. To assure no further injury he swallowed and nodded towards the two, retreating to his seat.

Dame Carew's interest seemed to be renewed in the prince. "Sparing then," she suggested.

"On your call."

She lunged forward and Lanyon parried. They pressed forward and back, testing each other's boundaries. Spinning from defense into attack. The display was stunning, it almost appeared to be a choreographed dance. Still, worry crept up from Jekyll's abdomen as he heard the rasping breaths of Prince Lanyon.

As Dame Carew lunged in for another attack Lanyon slipped, missing his parry. Carew's blade caught him on the shoulder sending him reeling back. He sank to a knee, using his blade for support.

With the haggard sound of the prince's breathing, Jekyll could no longer restrain himself. He rushed to Lanyon's side and retrieved another satchet he had prepared, offering it to the prince. Lanyons eyes flicked from the satchet to the doctor with a weary smile. He took it and inhaled as he was instructed. His labored breathing seemed to ease, but he was still shaking from the exertion.

Jekyll hardly noticed Dame Carew's arrival, but she offered the prince a hand to help him up. He accepted. Jekyll stood following suit.

"You did well today Your Highness." Carew said. Her tone was plain but Jekyll could tell by the squint of her eyes that she truly meant it.

Lanyon laid a hand on Jekyll's shoulder for support. "As always, it was a pleasure Dame Carew."

The Dame bowed out of courtesy as Lanyon turned to Jekyll. "Walk with me."