Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Spoilers for the movie. A touch of slash – sorry, but Wilde made it quite clear that Dorian is, at the least, bisexual. Oh, and this fic may have you running for a thesaurus. Consider yourselves warned that you might actually learn something!
Disclaimer: To 'borrow' a disclaimer from another author: All your bases belonging to us. Intellectual property rights are another matter. I have endeavored to provide credit where credit is due (see the numerous footnotes).
Author's Note: Apologies to those of you who were following this one from the start on Fanfiction.net. I reached a wall in chapter 13 and after some time realized this one needed a major overhaul. This was my very first fanfic and I think I got a little lost along the way. The main plot is still here, just a bit of clean up and fleshing out. Thanks for reading! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated and responded to, provided you leave an e-mail address. I hope this version is a change for the better. Enjoy!
Prologue
Dorian closed the door, making sure the latch caught. He slipped off his jacket, carefully hanging it before removing his vest and draping it over the hanger as well. He knelt by the large chest at the foot of his bed. Carefully rolling up each shirt sleeve, so as not to dirty them, he dug through the trunk finally pulling out a slim volume. Taking a seat at the small desk, he read over what had been written. After some thought he flipped the lid of his inkwell, and dipping his pen, began to write.
"A place in thy memory, dearest,
Is all that I claim;
To pause and look back when thou hearestThe sound of my name. (1)"
They say memory is one form of immortality, that to be remembered and thought of by others is a means of living forever. I certainly never gave such philosophizing a moment's thought as a young man for the young rarely believe in their own mortality. Besides, few would forget such a handsome and charming gentleman. Later, when I was destined to be eternally young if no longer a gentleman, I never thought to find myself desiring that sort of continuance. Perhaps I am growing sentimental in my later years for, in truth, I would have given most anything to be remembered by her. I had wondered often in the intervening years if she still thought of me, as I thought of her. In writing this, the story of how our paths crossed, maybe I will achieve immortality of another sort. At the very least, she will live on.
In all my years, immortality had brought me many things but surprises, particularly exciting ones, had long since ceased to be among those things. On the whole, it had been an exceedingly dull affair, where excitements and stimulating experiences were as rare as the London sun. Therein lay the appeal of this whole 'League of Extraordinary Gentlemen' venture. It promised, at the least, some excitement and perhaps a delicious surprise or two. How could I resist such a tantalizing prospect, particularly one involving more than a little self-interest?
Excitement was certainly there right from the beginning, though not the best kind. When given a choice, I tend to favor excitement of the non-life threatening kind. However, one is rarely given choice in regards to threats, thus preserving their effectiveness. Would I have gotten involved if not compelled to? Probably not and that I suppose should make me grateful that the choice was not mine to be made. Truly grateful in that I have been given a second chance with the one woman I've had cause to regret my treatment of. Forgive me; as I get ahead of myself and my tale. It began, as so many epic adventures do, on an unremarkable night.
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(1) Quoted from 'A Place in thy Memory' by Gerald Griffin