IT'S HERE.

[tempered-rose.livejournal.com]

Title: Help Me Carry The Fire (Chapter One of ???)
Characters: Cesc Fabregas, Pep Guardiola, Kenny Dalglish, Fernando Llorente; mentions of Vicente Rodriguez, Bojan, Raul Gonzalez
Rating: PG-13 this part (higher later)
Words: this part: 2,509
Dedication: This is started because I promised spartan_muse and ellamoonie that I would write one, so this entire story is for them. And you, if you read this. Thank you for your time <3 Also, thanks to wh_mermaid for the poking to start it now instead of waiting for whenever.
A/N: For those of you that didn’t read The Eternal Heartache, that one isn’t required reading to enjoy this one, but it’s recommended so you get some background. You don’t have to because I’m going to write this as a standalone not necessarily as a companion, even though it is the sequel. Please enjoy and I hope you like it. :-) And yes, it’s my NaNo so expect quite a few updates frequently ;) :D

With the sky as gray as slate and the rain streaking down from above, Cesc Fabregas thought that he would never see so much rain in one place. He could not previously recall such large amounts of water falling from the sky, not even when Barcelona had some pretty bad storms a few months before. It was remarkable.

It had been unrelenting from the moment the plane had landed in London, the hour or so it had been in the train northward, overnight as they had stayed in a hotel just outside of Oxford, to now, sitting inside the University Admissions office. He was looking out the window, watching raindrops slide down the window as frequently as waves crashed upon a shore and he let out his breath. He wondered if he would ever get used to so much rain in one place for so long.

Cesc could hear Pep’s voice speaking in rapid Catalan on the phone. He wasn’t curious enough to eavesdrop, but he did wonder what his uncle was talking about and to whom. He thought it rude manners, though, so he didn’t listen in. Instead, he refocused his attention on the few other people in the room waiting to be seen by the secretary to be given their schedules, room assignments, and other information in a very large packet of papers.

He kept his hands folded in his lap and occasionally he would glance away from the window, using only the corner of his eye, to look and see the rest of the room.

A few girls sat with their legs crossed on the other side of the room. One of them was reading a magazine, two of them were chatting quietly about something he didn’t understand—vajazzling?— and one was reading a very thick book that Cesc could only wonder what that was about. There were several boys in there as well, but their heavy accent put Cesc off any hope of trying to understand what they were saying. His English wasn’t terrible, but it was far from perfect. When you added in the fact that they had a very thick, he guessed Northern, accent made it practically impossible. He thought that he’d have a very rough time trying to figure everyone out if they all talked like this.
He sat and waited for Pep to return from his phone call, which did not seem to be going well at all, and he tried to look as if he had something to do. The magazines on the small table next to him were all ones from the University, with stock imaged-smiling people on the covers. As Cesc waited, he found himself thinking back to the university in Barcelona’s admissions office. It was similar, the same type of magazine for example in Spanish though, and he remembered why he had not gone there.

Pep had had the glint of hopeful pride in his eye when Cesc had told him that’s where he was going for an appointment. Inside, Cesc had felt bad because he already knew that he was going to say no to them. He didn’t want to let Pep down, but he didn’t want to attend a university where he didn’t want to be, either. When he had gone to the office, Vicente had offered to go with him. Cesc had originally said that it wasn’t necessary but as Vicente had told him he also had an appointment there anyway, Cesc had changed his mind. As he found out, it was nice to go with someone instead of by himself. The appointment had gone smoothly up until that moment when Cesc had thanked them for their time and politely declined their offer. He didn’t think that he would forget that woman’s face when he had seemingly snubbed them, or Pep’s several hours later when he had to tell him that he wasn’t going.

“Cesc?” Pep asked and Cesc blinked to clear his mind. Pep was looking at him expectantly. Cesc’s confused brain suddenly caught up when he saw an open door and a woman looking at him.

He cleared his throat and stood up, moving towards the door and he felt Pep follow behind him.

“Just through here,” the receptionist smiled, her accent was noticeably less thick than the lads in the waiting room, Cesc noticed. “Third door on the right.”

Cesc counted three doors and then knocked softly on the door. A soft ‘come in’ came from the other side. Cesc swallowed thickly and pushed open the door that read ‘Vice-Chancellor’ in gold lettering. Pep followed Cesc into the room, but may as well have been the only one entering because the man behind the desk rose and greeted him as an old colleague would.

“Señor Guardiola, it is an overdue pleasure!” The man, older and smaller than Pep and definitely more Scottish, greeted with a large, broad smile.

Pep bowed his head politely, smile too large to contain on his face. “My friend, Professor Dalglish.”

The older man waved his hand. “None of that business, just because you were my student once, it’s Kenny.”

“If you like, professor.” Pep didn’t change the word, and Kenny smiled knowingly.

Cesc watched their interaction with a moment of confusion before he remembered Pep mentioning on the plane about an ‘old friend in the office’ that he had wanted to see. Seems like he found him, Cesc thought and studied him quietly as the two did the polite and formal small-talk conversation.

“And this is my nephew,” Pep said, motioning with his hand to Cesc, “Francesc Fabregas, but he is called Cesc.”

Kenny looked him over and nodded once. “Looks like you somewhat, Josep. It’s nice to meet you Francesc.”

Cesc moved forward and shook the man’s hand. He spoke in very accented English, “you as well, sir.”

Kenny nodded and released his hand. “Welcome to Oxford and to Britain I should add.”

“Thank you, professor.”

“Professor Dalglish is the vice-chancellor of the University. He won’t be here every day, but enough to check on you if you need anything.” Pep murmured softly in Catalan and suddenly Cesc understood exactly why he was standing in the vice chancellor’s office.

“Hope you didn’t tell him how horrible I am,” Kenny joked as he moved back around to his desk.

“Of course not sir, I wouldn’t do that to you.” Pep grinned a grin that was particularly boyish, one Cesc recognized that he usually only did whenever Raul was around.

Kenny simply ‘tutted’ and sat down. “Now, Francesc,” Kenny picked up a packet of papers, much like the ones Cesc had seen other students carrying out, “you’re assigned to Lady Margaret Hall and your roommate,” Kenny looked and nodded once, “ah, yes, Mister Llorente. He, like yourself, is from Spain as well.”

Cesc nodded once and hoped that whoever Llorente was that he was not a Madridista. He crossed his fingers in his pocket and wondered about his new roommate.

“That’s very good news, isn’t it Cesc?” Pep asked, a hopeful look in his eyes.

Cesc nodded. “Very. At least I’ll have someone to talk to.” He added and smiled slightly.

“Indeed.” Kenny said before offering the packet of papers. “There is a map, calendar, schedule, and everything else you should need. I’m told Mister Llorente speaks excellent English so he can help you if you should need anything. Also, my door is open to you in the future if you need any advice or help.”

Cesc nodded and picked up on the subtle dismissal. “Thank you, professor. It was good to meet you.”

“And you as well Mr. Fabregas. Pep, I do look forward to seeing you this evening. I’ll tell Marina to add another place for you.”

“I would be delighted and honored, professor.” Pep replied and shook Kenny’s hand from across the desk. “Come along Cesc, let’s leave the vice chancellor to his work, hmm?”

Cesc nodded and followed Pep out of the office. He swallowed and looked down at the thick pack in his hands and rifled through quickly until he found a map. The university was far more spread out than he thought, but he figured he could learn the way around soon enough.

Pep lead him out of the hallway and past the other offices so that they were standing outside once again. The rain had lessened, thankfully, but still was a misty drizzle and Cesc pulled his zipper up on his coat.

“Lady Margaret he said, yes?” Pep asked and Cesc nodded. Pep returned the gesture and cleared his throat. “It’s this way. Off on its own, really and a bit of a stretch from the others, but it’s not too bad.” Pep smiled and Cesc nodded.

They started down the street, Cesc following Pep who seemed to be the only one who knew where they were going. Other students were walking as well and Cesc glanced at many of them as he passed by. There were many sorts of people who all looked different, Cesc noticed. Some were older, some were younger, some wore glasses others didn’t. Some were on a mobile phone, others were carrying a bag for their laptop and anything else they would need. A few were carrying boxes full of belongings and were dispersing throughout the buildings. Cesc had left his own belongings in their room at the hotel. He would go back and collect them later; he’d wanted to get settled first.

Pep and Cesc walked the half-mile or so up the street to the Hall in relative silence. Occasionally Pep would make a reference to a time when he had been a student. Cesc waited until he had finished one such story before he spoke.

“Pep, how well do you know the vice chancellor?” He asked hesitantly.

“Professor Dalglish? Oh, well enough I guess. He was my History and Politics Professor when I was here, and I was his favorite, or at least one of them. Once you get to know him, he’s very charming on the inside and he does reward those he likes and who does well. At least he did, I’ve not really seen him in a few years, been busy you know.”

Cesc chewed on his lower lip, his pace slowing down until he came to a stop. Pep turned when he noticed Cesc wasn’t beside him anymore.

“What is it, Cesc?” Pep asked and Cesc looked at him and for a moment there was doubt in his eyes.

“Did I get in to Oxford because I got in, or did you help me in?” Cesc asked seriously, watching Pep for the truth in his demeanor.

Pep’s eyebrows rose and he moved closer, all while maintaining eye contact. “I didn’t help you in, your scores and record got you in.”

“My scores and record? They were average at best and Oxford doesn’t take average students, do they?” Cesc asked with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Pep straightened and cleared his throat. For a moment he looked hesitant, as if he thought there was a possibility he had made a mistake. He decided to continue forward, truthfully. “Your scores were high, your educational records weren’t as high as they could’ve been, yes that’s true. And yes I did call my old friend to see if there was a scholarship or grant that could be given to you to allow you to attend here, that is also true.” Cesc’s stomach dropped and he felt disappointment fill his body. “But what is true is that Kenny decided you were worth the risk after I told him what a smart, hard-working person you are. I did not present you in a way that was dishonest, I simply told him the facts.”

“And he got me in, did he?” Cesc asked, the disappointment only marginally lessened by the fact Pep had told Kenny only the facts. Disbelief at what he was hearing in Pep’s story refused to fade, however.

“He might have had a word or two with the admissions’ office, but you are here because you are smart and a good student, Cesc. Not because I snapped my fingers and pulled a few strings.” Pep added but still Cesc did not believe him.

“Sure I am.” He replied dryly and Pep moved closer to rest his hands on Cesc’s shoulders.

“Francesc, I swear to you I did not lie to get you admitted here nor did I use any influence of any kind. I simply asked what could be done to get you to this point. Believe me or not, it is your choice. However, if you truly believe I did pull strings, then prove me correct that you do belong here. Excel at your studies and prove to all the others that you are smart enough and deserve to be here. Or we can return home and you will turn down this university as you have done other fine choices. The choice is yours.”

Pep stood back from him and Cesc swallowed. He was being offered a choice. He thought it over quickly in his head and then he stepped forward.

“The hall is just up here, you say?”

Pep nodded once, serious look still in place before he exhaled slowly. “Yes, just this way.”

They walked a little further up the street until they stopped outside a large, regal looking building. It was surrounded by lush green grass and meticulously cut shrubbery. The building itself looked as if it belonged as part of a palace or something, Cesc thought. Several other students were walking into the building, and Cesc swallowed.

Pep and Cesc moved up the flagstone steps and underneath the dome-covered doorway and inside the building, away from the mist once again. The halls were a little crowded, but for the most part, Cesc was amazed by what he saw. The Hall was far nicer than he had imagined and he couldn’t quite believe that this would be where he stayed from now on.

They found his room by looking at the number on the packet of papers and started down the hallway. Pep nodded once at Cesc.

“I have to call Raul and check on him and Bojan. I’ll be outside for a few moments.”

Cesc nodded and swallowed hard before he pushed open the door to his room and blinked at the sudden light from the dark hallway. He caught a glimpse of two single beds, a dresser each and a desk, before he noticed that there was someone else watching him.

The other boy was tall, Cesc could tell from the long legs stretched on his bed, and he was thin and muscular. His hair was a lighter color of brown mixed naturally with blonde. As he stood, Cesc was amazed at how tall he actually was. He felt a little bit tiny compared to his new roommate. A smile broke across the other boys face as he moved to the door.

“You must be Cesc. I’m Fernando, Fernando Llorente, it’s nice to meet you.”