#somehow this turned into lyall/andromeda

[lunapwrites]

Hey so remember that time that I made that post about the sudden plot bunny about Lyall and Andromeda bonding over the corpses of their children and wouldn't that be a fun meet-cute like a complete sociopath?

Well anyway I might have written it.

Third row, fifteen down. Lyall moved through the Great Hall, woodenly scanning the bodies laid out along the floor. Children, mostly — boys and girls just sighting the light at the end of their teens. Adults scattered in between, too few to be an effective shield against their attackers, against — Christ — the Giants he'd seen collapsed on the grounds. Fires still smoldering. Third row, fifteen down. He spotted the shoes first — how many times had he heard those boots scuffing on the rug at his door? How long had it been? Not since his son had burst into the house a year before, digging through boxes like a madman. "Need a hand?" "No, I just can't remember where I — ah! There you are—" "What are you up to, lad?" "Something monumentally stupid, probably — I'll explain later, I promise." He'd run out the door then, jamming something into his pocket as he went. It was the last Lyall had seen Remus alive. He'd thought himself moderately prepared for this, having buried his wife years ago. Thought he knew grief. Remus had always been a bit pale, a bit quiet. Self-contained. But there was always a sense of movement underneath his skin, an energy about him that could burst out at any moment — for good or ill. The body at his feet lay unnaturally still, unnaturally silent, eyes mercifully closed. Not just pale, but grey-faced. Slightly blue. He felt the air leave his lungs, felt his soul wither and die, his heart crumbling to ash in his breast. That was his son. That was his son. "You must be Lyall," a quiet voice ventured. He wrenched his eyes away from what was left of his son — his son! — to see a dark-haired woman standing beside him, arms full of a tiny baby, eyes hollow as he felt. "Remus spoke of you often." He frowned. "I…" "Andromeda Tonks," she offered. "Your son married my daughter." Lyall blinked slowly. He looked down at his son's body, spotting the ring glinting on his finger. There was blood on it. And to Remus' left was a young woman with mousey brown hair and a lip ring, fingers brushing against his even in death. She was wearing Hope's ring. "Something monumentally stupid, probably." He didn't even know her name. "I had no idea," he rasped. Andromeda let out a little sigh, adjusting the baby in her arms. "No, I suppose you wouldn't have."

She offered nothing further, and Lyall didn't have it in himself to ask. They stood shoulder to shoulder for a time, staring silently down at the faces of their dead children, each drowning in their own private sea of grief until the baby in her arms began fussing. He waved his tiny little fists as he screwed his face up, turning towards Andromeda's breast as if to latch. She pulled him away slightly, frowning. "I haven't anything to feed you with," she said, and Lyall wasn't so gone that he didn't hear the double meaning in her statement. "Don't know where I'll find you a nurse on such short notice, but we'll manage." "Does he not handle formula?" "What?" Her confusion was so genuine, she could have only been from an old pureblood line. His confusion over just who his son had (apparently) married only grew. “Something monumentally stupid—” "Baby formula,” Lyall clarified. “The Muggles use it to feed babies if they can't use milk for whatever reason. We had to use it for— well. He was allergic, so…" Andromeda nodded absently. “I suppose I could try to find some. Although, Merlin knows where at this hour…” She trailed off fretfully, a tiny furrow appearing between her finely curved brows, and Lyall let out a sigh. “There ought to be a Tesco open by now; it’s near six,” he assured her, earning a blank stare in response. Oh dear. “The supermarket?” Andromeda’s cheeks finally tinged a bit pink. “Oh, I… my husband—” a ripple of pain shot across her face, and oh, he recognised that one — “he normally does the— did the shopping. He was better at that sort of thing. And then Remus took over, after…” Recent, then; poor woman. It warmed him, slightly, to know that Remus had stepped in to fill the void the other man had left. That they’d let him. “Well. I’m glad he was there, at least.” Her expression hardened almost imperceptibly. “In the end, yes.” (There was a story there; Lyall was certain he’d hear about it soon enough.) (He only wished his son was alive to tell it himself.) “Suppose I ought to figure out where to bury him now,” Lyall murmured. “Only… you know. Never thought I’d have to.” (His son!) “Them,” Andromeda corrected, meeting his gaze as she drew herself up imperiously. “Your son swore to me that he’d never leave her side again, and I mean to see he keeps his word.” She paused, her eyes drifting to her daughter’s face, and Lyall could see her walls cracking. “She kept hers, after all. Swore she’d never let him if he tried, and here we are.” Lyall nodded thoughtfully, sidestepping the landmine for now. “Alright. Suppose we can discuss that while we hit the shops, then.” Andromeda stared at him, wide-eyed. “What? I couldn’t possibly leave—”

“They’re not going anywhere, and we haven’t anywhere better to be,” Lyall reminded her. “And more importantly, we need to get this one fed. Might as well grab a bite ourselves while we’re at it and discuss details as we go.”

She hesitated, and for a moment he thought she might tell him to go hang — he certainly wouldn’t have blamed her, especially under the circumstances. And yet Andromeda seemed to gather herself, adjusting the still fussing baby in her arms whose hair was, to his surprise, slowly shifting from brown to red. She conjured up a tiny hat and popped it on his head with the expert precision of a woman who had not only expected such an occurrence, but had experience managing it.

“Right then,” she said briskly. “Lead on.”

The more Lyall was learning, the more confusion was beginning to give way to intrigue: just who was this woman his son had married? And who exactly was her mother?

“Something monumentally stupid, probably —”

But Remus wasn’t around to explain anymore, so all he had — all he could do — was this:

Show his son’s mother-in-law around the Tesco, formula in hand. Show her how to prepare it. Ask her how she takes her tea. Ask her about herself, her daughter, and his son, and the little hill where he’d buried his wife in ‘82.

“She’d like that, I think.”

Marvel a bit at the fact this poor girl survived her teens with a name like Nymphadora, sweet Circe. Keep that bit to himself.

Hold the baby — Teddy, a mercifully bog standard name, that — so she can sip and cry at the same time.

Tell her about his son — not the cagey, wand-shy man she knew, but the kind and quiet, if impulsive one he’d raised. The one she laughed and said her daughter must have known.

And then— “Would you like to stay for supper?” A wince. “I appreciate the offer—” Ah, hell. He waved her off. “Next time, then.” There wouldn’t be a next time, he thought. And then… there was. Tea after the quiet funeral turned into tea every Sunday, turned into "I was heading out to the shops for a bit, would you mind taking Teddy?" turned into bringing Teddy along as he helped her carry the bags home — "I suppose I could have Featherlighted them, but there were so many Muggles around, you know?" "Oh, of course." The grief never left — not really. Only faded to a dull roar in the back of his mind that Lyall could tuck away when he needed most days. Andie understood; she felt it too. He stepped in on the days when Harry was working and Andie couldn't get herself out of bed, and she stepped in on the days when the grief seemed to stretch out so long and deep that he couldn't climb out. Tucked a baby — a toddler — a boy into his arms, just to remind him they're still here, at least a little. Teddy was growing into something not-Remus and not-Nymphadora but something entirely, brilliantly his own, and most days Lyall could have burst with the joy of it. The sorrow. She understood that too. Held his hand as they visited the graves on the hill, beneath the alder tree he'd once carved his and Hope's initials into. Four headstones for three bodies, watching the sun rise over the valley. Watching Teddy try to do cartwheels that looked more like a pisshead falling over a bin. Watching him recover, hair brilliantly blue, and try again.

"Gran! Bampi, watch!" Merlin, they would have loved him. Merlin, but he could bleed with it most days. (Andie wrapped her arms around his waist, chin perched on his shoulder as she laughed quietly against his back. Holding them both together.)

Lyall reckoned that, most days at least, they were alright.

[niigata-division]

By the time the famous ex-actor and homicidal detective was about to step inside his house after all the hard work he had been through during the day, he was then greeted by a pile of gifts sent over to his address since today was also none other than his birthday.

Well, since he assumed that the majority of them were coming from his fans or maybe his colleagues, the option of just leaving them all under the cold of the night seems to be considered inappropriate here. So, he decided to take all of them into his residence.

Speaking of which, he also noticed that one notable-sized present with the tiny card written “from Nara Division” laying down on the floor —It was a roll of blackout curtains with so many cuts that all lights shining through them would mysteriously portray the silhouette of nighttime cityscapes and this was somehow striking some kind of aesthetics to him.

Carrying the large roll of curtains into his arms, suddenly his area of sight caught up on something nearby —It was a miniature black coffin with a lot of accessories in the theme of his interest, but what made him a little bit surprised was the name addressed as its sender and the small letter attached inside.

“Yo, What’s up, Shiba-kun (and greetings to Shiba-chan if she is around there).

First and foremost; Happy birthday and long time no see★

Time does fly very fast, doesn’t it? I thought I’ve just seen both you and your sister as a pair of shorties among the crew from back then. But now, look, you have already turned out to be even taller than me right now!

To be honest, it was such a regret when I heard you decided to quit showbiz so soon. Ever since then the world of entertainment had lost quite a number of young talents and also a lot of its muchness after you left.

However, above all else, I hope you guys are doing alright and content with the path you choose to walk from now on.

But WAIT, what if I’m already writing this long but you still have no idea of who I possibly am?! Haha, just kidding… I know you would never since both of us got our grand debut from the same drama series after all.

—ASHIBI

(My stage name is still the same, you see?)”

Lyall blinked as he read the letter. Gosh, it had been so long since he thought about the series that had given him his big break. No one could ever have expected how huge “Andromeda’s Children” would become. The series finale alone was watched by millions of people. Even now, reruns of the show were still popular to watch.  

Ashibi, huh? Lyall tried to remember who that could be and thought back to everyone who played a part in the drama. Then, all of a sudden, a figure appeared in Lyall’s mind. Someone who played a certain character and who understood what it was like to be suddenly shoved into the spotlight. 

“Hahahah! Oh gosh, I can't believe I almost forgot you! It has been a while hasn’t it? I should get back in touch with you. I'm sure Lyra would love to speak to you again.”