#dont mind me just over here forming the bad dad coholition

[clockworknightmares]

Little in-between piece following heir

Cw: alcohol, dubious parenting

“I want him FOUND!”

The glass shatters on the doorframe, nearly missing the unfortunate butler’s head. Viscount Van Doren sits back in his mahogany hand-carved chair and groans in frustration. Jamison has run off several times before but never with this much success. His people have been searching everywhere since dawn and still no news of his heir. Nothing. The boy has simply vanished from his chambers overnight. The Viscount rubs his temples in exasperation. He’s going to get wrinkles.

“Quite a stir you’re causing Elias”, a voice drawls from the doorway.

The Viscount looks up viciously. “I sent for you hours ago Weir. Where have you been?”

Grant Weir walks over and takes his leisurely time helping himself to the Viscount’s liquor. “Breakfast. I don’t work for you Elias, you know that. I have my own business to attend to. So what if Jamison’s run off? He’s a fine young man, let him sow his wild oats.” He takes a sip from his glass and turns his gaze back to the Viscount. “Might do him some good.”

“He has a duty here. To me. To this estate. Wild oats might work for you and yours, but this is a respectable family”, Elias sniffs. 

“Oh I see how it is”, Grant chuckles, unaffected. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Me and mine expect payment for services rendered. We’re hunters, not retrievers. And we don’t specialize in human targets. Unfortunately-” He twirls the glass in his fingers. “-I have no extra hands to offer you. We’ve got ourselves a contract on a nest extermination and I require all of my men at this time. Hire yourself a private fucking investigator if you’re so worried.” He downs the rest of his drink and sets the glass down with a thunk.

“Grant this is my heir- my son. You have a son, what would you do if he went missing?” The Viscount appeals, standing up from his chair, hands on his desk.

“I’d say he better clean up whatever fucking mess he caused and get his ass home in one piece because no one else sure as hells going to do it for him. And if he goes missing intentionally, well, he better make sure he stays that way.” Grant shrugged.

“And some say I’m a bad father”, Elias mutters under his breath. “So you won’t help me.”

“‘Will I?' isn't the question. I simply do not have the time nor the men to spare. I am afraid you're on your own this time Elias. Figure it out. But if you want my personal opinion?” Grant looks back on his way out. “He probably just wanted a fucking break from you. See you around Viscount. Hey- maybe by the next time I see you, you’ll have figured out how to get the stick out of your ass.”

“Get out!” Elias yells, but he’s already gone. That man infuriates him, yet he has all the contacts that Elias does not. He can’t stand being in the same room as him for more than a few minutes, and it’s been that way for years. Yet they are mutually beneficial allies and Grant Weir is not one to let himself be dismissed unless it’s of his own decision. So they’re stuck like this.

If Weir won’t help him find his heir then he’ll just have to find someone else to take the job. Someone he can trust to get the job done, yet someone who is dispensable. Someone like-

“My Lord- I just heard the news- I came as soon as I could-”

Someone like Charles Grantham.

Though how he could have possibly heard the news this quickly when everyone has been instructed to not go spreading this around-

“My Lord, with your permission I would like to offer you my assistance in the search.” He looks rather frazzled, not unlike the face of a man who just lost a high stakes game of cards.

Charles Grantham isn’t exactly what the Viscount would consider someone of rank, but his family had money in shipping and trading, a company which Charles had recently been named head of. And if he remembers correctly, Jamison had been complaining of the man’s incessant bothering only some weeks ago or something of the sort. He rarely actually listens when Jamison gets that way. 

Grantham has resources, people under his employ. He has connections in the lower parts of the city due to the nature of the company he runs. Whatever his reasoning for wanting Jamison found, or how he even learned of it- is yet to be seen. But until then, Elias isn’t about to let an opportunity slip through his fingers.

“Your assistance is much appreciated in this trying time Mr. Grantham”, the Viscount says. “Please, have a seat, a drink. Tell me, have you heard news of my son’s whereabouts?”