#theadora asks

[meetmymouth]

plssss i need a blurb about thea seeing that bald ass head

from the series theadora

“What are you doing?”

Harry looks absolutely ridiculous.

Sitting on the sofa, a mug in hand as he scrolls on his phone with the other.

Seeing only his torso, and the hands were not a reason to call him out on his bullshit, though. What angered her—perhaps, for no reason—was the fact that he’d been home for about four hours, and in that four hours, Harry has not taken his beanie off.

So, she thinks, yes—he looks absolutely ridiculous with the beanie still on his head.

“What?” He looks up, eyebrows furrowed.

The hat matches the pink lights on their Christmas tree, and she so badly wants him to take it off to see whether the flickering lights would reflect on his head that lacked a significant amount of hair now or not.

“Take that thing off for the love of God, Harry, you’ve been home for hours.”

“I feel… self conscious.”

“You can’t be serious, I’ve caught you taking multiple selfies,” she rubs her eyes, and walks towards him. She sits next to him, one leg tucked under the other, arm finding his body to hug him from the side. “Are you… serious?”

Harry bites his bottom lip. “Okay, maybe not. It’s just hair. I don’t care. I just.”

“What is it?”

“Teddy hasn’t seen it—”

“Well, I wonder why. Your bald head must be so hot under that thing,” she snorts, biting his shoulder over the t-shirt.

Harry gasps, almost spilling his tea. He puts it on the coffee table, hand already finding her hip to pinch the skin. “Stop being mean. I’m not bald.”

“Just take it off, please. She’ll find it cute. Camp.”

“Camp?” He repeats, tone incredulous and hesitant. “Fuck off.”

“Harry.”

He lets out a sigh, and leans his head on her head, her hair tickling the side of his face. He smiles for a moment, the stillness of the room making him feel warm.

“I love you,” she starts, hand creeping under his t-shirt. She stops when it reaches his neck. “But you need to take it off. I mean, what’s your plan, hm?”

“Well.”

“Didn’t think that one through, did you?”

They turn their heads at the same time when they hear Theadora’s small footsteps.

She enters the living room, a pink, glittery tinsel around her neck, mouth supporting a frown.

“The tree in my room is so small,” she walks over to them, and grabs Harry’s hand, putting it on the arm of the sofa. She gets on his lap, but not before giving her mum a bored look. “You told me I could have a tree in my room, too.”

She nods. “I did. And you do. We bought you one.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Harry strokes the side of her face, fingers delicately playing with her curls.

“Too small, I said it one minute ago. Because it is small,” she gives a curt nod. “Tinsel does not cover it all the way.”

“Do you mean the tinsel is big for your tree?” Harry suggests.

Theadora looks up at him, eyes narrowed. “It’s not even a tree. It’s a… tr. It’s so, so small I don’t like it.”

“Teddy we have a massive Christmas tree down here.”

“Why are you wearing a winter hat,” she changes the subject, but before they can give her an answer, her small hands reach for the hat, and it slides off of his head.

They both gasp, Theadora howls.

“What have you done, daddy!” She closes her mouth with her hands.

“I… cut my hair, T,” Harry rubs his eyes, clearly feeling nervous.

It’s silent for a while, before Theadora speaks again.

“With scissors?”

“Ah,” Harry lets out a defeated laugh. “No—”

“Did you do it or mum?”

“A hairdresser.”

She gulps. They both watch her in silence.

“Okay.”

Harry’s gaze finds hers momentarily before turning back to the child. “You like it?”

“I guess but do you like it? Are you sad? Because your hair was kinda curly like mine,” she flinches at her own words before turning to her mum. “I am not cutting my hair.”

They both laugh, and Harry presses a kiss on her small hands.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Teddy,” Harry murmurs, hands stroking her small ones in his. “Do you like it, though— really?”

“I do, I think. We won’t be able to put hair clips now but I guess if you’re happy.”

Harry bites his lips so that he doesn’t cry at the pureness of the interaction.

“I love you, Teddy.”

“I love you, too, daddy. Your head looks nice, I promise you.”

Harry laughs, unaware of the loving gaze directed at them both.

“What about my hair?”

Theadora doesn’t look impressed by the question.

“Can we get a bigger Christmas tree for my room now, please?”

[ll-underestimated-ll]

@earlgreyritae

[solemn-marauders]

Hi there! I was inspired by your patronus post that I wrote a continuation with your MC. Hope you like it!

Thea only knew there could be one place where Sebastian could be hiding. She thanked Professor Hecat for her time, leaving the classroom with hurried steps. What she just learned was… enlightening and overwhelming at the same time, leaving Thea to draw her own conclusion. What happened earlier… It was Sebastian’s love confession exposed in front of the whole class to see. 

Which led the white haired Gryffindor down the stairs, and into that familiar grandfather’s clock. She took a deep breath and waved her wand, the clock revealing itself to the entrance to the Undercroft. Without any hesitation, Thea stepped in, her heart beating from out of her chest. 

Upon landing in front of the gate, she saw Ominis and Sebastian prancing around rather awkwardly, as if they made an uncomfortable revelation. Thea didn’t want to announce her arrival, but the loud noise of the gate shifting and opening to reveal her presence snapped the Slytherin boys back to reality, looking in her direction. Ominis gave a sigh as he took his cue to leave. 

“She’s here, Sebastian. I think I’ll take my leave.” 

Ominis made his way out, giving Thea a small smile as he left. Thea smiled back in return, then her eyes turned to look at Sebastian. He was shifting uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze. Once they heard the gates of the Undercroft close, Thea gulped as she approached Sebastian. 

“Sebastian… I…”

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“Sorry?” 

Thea was taken back at his words. Surely there was more to that. Thea got confused, then tried to read Sebastian’s face for any sort of sign. Whatever charm he had was gone, leaving behind one that fumbled about his words and uncertain on what to do. 

“Just… sorry. It wasn’t intentional.” 

Thea scoffed at that statement.

“It wasn’t? It looked extremely intentional to me.” 

“Just… leave it. None of that happened.” 

“Dismissing it already?” 

“I told you to leave it, Thea.”

Thea paused when Sebastian snarled those words at her. They always teased and shared a few jokes, but she knew this time Sebastian meant business. Sighing, she decided to change the conversation and get straight to the point. 

“All right. Then tell me… what was your happy thought?” 

Sebastian finally looked at her, giving a moment of silence as he composed himself. His hands clenched into fists that made his knuckle white, his breaths were heavy that Thea could see him heaving. It took all of Sebastian’s will to admit it. 

“When I first conjured a Patronus… I was thinking of the times I played Gobstones with Anne and Ominis. I tried to use it again but… after what happened last year it became corrupted. It was just sad and… I could no longer feel joy in it after knowing I had failed both of them. Then… I thought of your smile, our adventures, every single conversation I had with you…It gave a burst of happiness I never felt before. Merlin, Thea. Do you have any idea that since you walked into the Great Hall last year, you caught my eye? And have you ever seen me behave the way I do to you to any other girl?” 

Thea could only blink when Sebastian asked her those questions. Her whole body froze, leaving Sebastian to take her silence as rejection as he got up, looking defeated as he muttered to her. 

“I’ll see you around.” 

But Sebastian didn’t move. His body froze when he felt Thea’s hand holding his arm, as if begging for him to stay. Sebastian dared himself to look at her face, one of anguish and despair. She looked like she was about to cry when her voice, barely above a whisper, asked him a question in return. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I thought in return?” 

Sebastian paused, seeing her emotions about to spill as he nodded, leaving Thea to get herself together and muster whatever courage she had left. Wiping away any stray tears, Thea took a deep breath and spewed her confession.

“I wasn’t getting it right. Whatever memory I was thinking about wasn't strong enough. Then… you saw my sad sparks. Honestly… I was trying to get you out of my head until you pointed out that I was on the right path. I stopped fighting it…and… well you know the rest.” 

Sebastian’s jaw dropped at that confession. Thea…Thea was also thinking of him? Just as much he was thinking of her. Him… of all people she could have had at Hogwarts, Thea is in love with him. Sebastian’s stance relaxed, thinking he would never gain her love after seeing how far he went to cure Anne that it cost everything. Sebastian awkwardly closed the gap between them, but he leaned in as he felt Thea’s hand move from his arm to his shoulders, trailing on his neck and landing on his cheek, her other hand followed suit. He started to feel a little bold and wanting to take his chance, but his eyes widened with shock. 

Thea leaned in, giving Sebastian a passionate kiss. 

Overcoming what just happened, Sebastian swooned and gave into her kiss, hungrily responding to her lips as he held her waist, not intending to let go. He thought he lost everything that made life bearable for a moment. He never thought of himself worthy of her, but she chose him in the end. He wasn't going to let her go. No… he’ll court her, marry her to show he means it. He wants her by his side as they raise their own brood of Sallows, until his own hair turns gray to match the white in her hair. 

They parted their kiss when their breaths felt short, both of them looking at each other with wonder and glee. Thea and Sebastian gave each other a hug, inhaling each other’s scent and feeling warm despite the cold conditions of the Undercroft. 

It’s the start of a new adventure. And all it took was a Patronus.

THIS IS SO SWEET! 🥹

I can’t believe you felt inspired to write about Thea after reading one of my drabbles. I’m touched and honored. This was such a gift, thank you.

I’ll, hopefully, be posting my own continuation of my Patronus scene soon.

[feralcherry]

If your OC had an unlimited about of time and money for a hobby, what would they do?

I'm just seeing this omg

Anyways, I'll run with two of my current ocs.

Theadora would probably just do her job but with the benefit of unlimited time and money. She LOVES working for the American Bureau of Magic because she gets to travel the world and learn about Ancient Magic. She's in a gopher role right now with retrieval of items but she'd love to just go at her own pace and follow her intuition.

Nokia would have a million hobbies that are half finished because she realizes she does not have the skills needed to maintain them in the bg3 world. Like half-finished quilts, etc. She'd be baking a LOT though as that's one thing she can do on the side. She can also play her violin. So she'll have a few options. Plus she can always use that time to actually learn whatever she wants, given she's not running from literal death at that point lolol

[isolationstreet]

7, 8, 44 [DnD Asks] for Arnoud 🖤🖤

Got long so I'm putting it under a read more as per usual

7. Which party member do they understand the least?

This is a tricky question becuse every member of the party is has a very diffrent personality and background and the only person Arnoud is actaully friends with anymore is our NPC cleric Bron who has temporarily left the party to work on stabilizing the weaving while we're doing our prison break/ heist mission starting next session.

I think currently the party member he understands the least is actually Theadora.

It might sound a little strange becuase she was the first party member he befriended. They both worship gods of death, frequently speak with the dead, and are very invested in the cycle of life, death, and rebirth. And they both have no issues with breaking the law or working with some bad guys to an extent if its will get them closer to their goals.

Not to mention shes mostly warlock which is what Cecily's class is.

However her willingness to repeatedly trust everyone they come across and freely hand out a great deal of sensitive information even when there's no certainty of security. It's something shes gotten better about not doing but it's far from the "trust nobody not even yourself" mentality he was trained by cecily to have.

Another big thing is how shes so often headstrong and uncompromising in being driven by her emotional beliefs and desires rather doing what she feels is most right rather than looking for trying to find the most logical path

She wears her heart on her sleeve in a way that he first found intriguing and brought them together has really pushed him away from her recently. He knows she means well but he also finds her extremly dangerous in a polar opposite way to how people find him dangerous for being closed off and calculating. That terrifies him.

(also she is a lycanthrope and he is a vampire)

8. what are three songs that suit them?

Uh I have a 21hr 26min playlist for him so it's very hard to just pick three

44. what do they need to learn?

As much as it pains me to say. He could stand to not be entirely codependent with Cecily.

It's very good that they're in a place that they mutually love and trust each other but they really have built their lives entirely around the other over the past 23 years and have no idea how to be their own person anymore and they both kinda know that which is one of the many reasons she left him for the time being while she takes the time to unpack some of her trauma on her own with the mutual desire to get back together after they learn how to be their own people.

He's not handling the separation great right now but things take time to heal and I'm rooting for them

[yoshitsuno]

Sebastian Sallow x Theadora Gravethorne 🐍❤🦁

Commission for @snickette / @solemn-marauders who asked me to draw her beautiful MC with Seb. Thank you again ! ❤

[gluion]

all of moni's loves

in here, i like to mention some of my mutuals who i absolutely adore. i hope you could take some time to check them out.

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➵ cece (@/sanscee) 🦅

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[runnning-outof-time]

Evie not taking after her uncle Arthur and being math wiz lol

if you have the time can you talk a little bit about the girls personalities for some girl!dad lore?

Thank you so much for sending this ask in, anon!! ☺️ like I said in my previous answer - seeing this in my inbox made my day!! I appreciate your interest in my stories!

I had to read the parts that I’ve shared of this lovely family so that I could get a reminder of the girls and what I’ve written for them already.

I’ve added some insight into their personalities below the cut!

Theadora Rose Shelby “Thea”

Thea’s a ray of sunshine

She also embraces the ‘oldest child’/‘big sister’ role and embodies it beautifully — she loves her little sisters

She loves nature (hence where Juniper received her name) and enjoys spending time outside

She also has a tendency to dive completely into whatever it is that she finds she’s passionate about — also where Juniper got her name.

I think she’s also the most caring out of the three. Like if someone in her family’s upset, she’s going to stay with them and make sure that they’re going to be ok.

Kind of going off of the last one, Thea’s really pure — in the sense that she’s always seeing the good in everything. And that pureness lasts for a while; throughout all of her childhood years and up into her teens (which Tommy’s genuinely grateful for because he’s always worried about his line of work and exposing the girls to it).

I imagine her going on to do something good in the world … to inspire and advocate for change in some realm. … maybe she’d become a teacher so that she could make an impact on the next generation while also fighting for change that she wants to see in her community.

Evelina Marie Shelby “Evie”

Evie’s definitely the one who brings the sass and drama the most

But she’s also very much goofy and a trickster … she really takes after her uncle John

She’s also not afraid to let her true emotions be known — she wasn’t a fan of no longer being the baby of the family at first, and she made sure to let her mom and dad know that … but then she came around and is happy to have Juni.

Now she likes the ‘middle child’ role …. But she doesn’t conform to it completely (in the sense that she doesn’t just blend into the family dynamic) — which is where the sass comes in.

I imagine that she’s definitely the trickiest to handle growing up … from getting into stuff she’s not supposed to be getting into, to finding herself in situations that Tommy swears cuts years off of his life - he and (Y/N) have had the most talks about her out of all the daughters (and she was the first to have an actual boyfriend…regardless of what her father said).

But with that being said, she’s also smart…in every sense of the word. We saw an inkling of it in the very latest blurb (which the comment about Arthur made me giggle…she’s way better than her uncle at maths) — I definitely think that she’d be the daughter to score the highest in school.

Evie’s definitely going to hold some sort of position of power when she grows up — I’m not sure if timelines work out, but hell, she’d make them work because I could see her being some sort of lawyer, or in a position where she’s able to use her knowledge and wit to best an opposing side.

Juniper Anne Shelby “Juni”

Juni’s truly a ball of sunshine — like she’s Thea times 10.

She admires her big sisters too. They’re the world to her.

I’d imagine that she’s the daughter that falls in love with horses. Sure, Thea and Evie both ride, and have been riding their entire lives, but Juni is the first girl to really love the animal.

And she and Tommy really bond over that.

So I definitely see her as being the ‘daddy’s girl’ of the daughters. … so just when Tommy thinks that he’s finally got this girl dad thing down in the scheme of his daughters getting older and wanting to start families of their own (because yes, he allows that), his world gets rocked when Juni tells him that she’s found someone special — because that’s his little girl, and she’s not so little anymore.

With her love for animals - horses in particular - I see Juni being the daughter who grows up and works with animals as her livelihood. Maybe she has her own piece of property with like a rehab or training facility on it? And of course she keeps a few horses of her own, which Tommy is thrilled about. I’d imagine that there’s family rides that happen on her property almost weekly.

———

I’m sure I’ll think of more little tidbits about these ladies as I write more stories about them, but hopefully this is a good starting off point for a little more insight into who they are — and hopefully I didn’t leave out anything that I said in the stories already…if I did, don’t be afraid to tell me and I’ll add it here!

If you’re new to the Girl Dad series, but you still read this post (firstly, thank you!) you can read their ongoing story HERE!

Thanks so much again for sending this lovely ask in! It was so fun thinking about these girls and diving deeper into who they are!! 🥰❤️

[kissohee]

　　　　　　　　　　　　　 ≽^- ˕ -^≼

　　　　　　　　　　　　about kissohee

my name is theadora, i write for riize and bnd. (i love sohee and leehan) my other ults are &team enhypen aespa lesserafim itzy and kiof, my biases are fuma/jo heeseung giselle chaewon chaeryeong and belle. i wont write - m!reader, anal, noncon, stepcest, ddlg/daddy kink or anything similar along those lines. i will write - f & gender neutral!reader, vanilla, hybrids, pet play, exhibition, and others feel free to talk to me through ask or dms! i love making new friends!

　　　　　　　　　　　　 taken anonies

　　　　　　　　　　　　　 🍄🌙🧸🎀 　　　　　　　　　　　　　 🥐🪼🦌🌊 　　　　　　　　　　　　　 👯 bnd

[meetmymouth]

will u pls stop with all this teddy content,,,, im already emotionally unstable as it is 🥺

no i cannot at this point here are some stories from theadoraverse

[ellorypurebloodculture]

Five sentence ficlet friday ask: Tom Marvolo x female Theodred Nott

High Lord Tom Marvolo Slytherin, his arm possessively wrapped around Heiress Theadora Nott's waist, basks in the afternoon sunshine, still high on the victory of securing her affections. He can still taste her on his lips. She's addictive, intoxicating, and he never wants to break the habit.

"Careful, darling, your smugness is showing," Theadora teases as she trails her fingernails across the bare skin of his hand.

Tom kisses her temple and purrs, "It would take a greater wizard than I to conceal how I feel, knowing I am yours and you are mine."

[solemn-marauders]

hi I wanted to pop in and say that I love theadora’s name, it sounds very cool

Thank you so much! I brainstormed a lot of different ones and then I was stuck between Theodora (Theo) or Theadora (Thea), but went with Theadora because I liked the meaning of "Thea" so much.

[feralcherry]

If all your original characters are in an established friend group, how might they welcome the new person...theadora?

I immediately thought of a dinner party, my favorite setting for disasters, and started giggling. But I do like to think of them at a bar instead, getting together to lament their lives.

Hanne would enjoy Theadora's analytical mind.

Yeona would understand her longing for freedom and find solace that someone else has a young charge in the group.

Val and Theadora would talk about their brothers.

And they'd all get roaring drunk together :D

booze buddies!!!

thank you so much for the question haha <3

[iggydabirdkid]

Good things come in threes!  This is the third of the 6 drawings I have planned for Pride Month!

The Wayhaven Chronicles is one I hold dear, being someone who loves everything supernatural. And how can I pass up the opportunity for angst with a certain golden-haired vampire?? 

So this is what I did for My Detective (Agent now I guess XD) Theadora Rickson and Ava Du Mortain.

(Forgive me if some of the spelling and punctuation is strange. It was weirdly difficult trying to write this in the style the game is written in. Also this ones a little longer, so don’t feel obligated to read it if ya don’t want to. Just enjoy the pretty art :) )

+++++

Lost in Your Eyes

The alarm that blares from my phone jumpstarts my heart as my eyes snap open. Groaning and turning my face into my plump pillow I reluctantly roll onto my stomach and reach blindly towards the shrill sound, my palm slapping against the surface of beside table before finally connecting with the offending device.   

Another groan escapes me and I lift my head while blinking against the glow of the screen as I turn the alarm off. I hate having to get up so early but I had doomed myself by neglecting my paperwork all week and now I was paying the price. I was just glad that I had had the foresight to ask Verda to send it over to the Warehouse. At least that way I could get it done from the comfort of the library. I let my head flop back down into the inviting plush of my pillow, “Thanks past me,” I mumble, the act of rolling my eyes made difficult by my position.

Letting out a sigh I finally decide to get up as I knew that if I stayed laying down I would for sure fall asleep again. I push the top half of my body off the mattress as I lean on my forearms and yawn before arching my back and hearing the cracks and pops of my joints before sitting back on my haunches. I tip my head back to roll my neck and lift my arms up high over me before shaking them out and standing up. I scowl as I look down to see my covers bunched up around my feet and I kicked my blankets to the floor, they needed to be washed anyways. As I jump from my bed it rocks beneath me and I grimace, placing a hand against its wooden frame to steady it.

The wall before me was dappled with morning sunlight and unable to help myself I wave a hand through the specks of dust floating in the rays of gold. With a smile of my face I let myself relax. Sometimes it was worth waking up early, if only for the little things. Speaking of…

I spin around and grab my phone off the nightstand, swiping down from the top of the screen to check my notifications as I pad barefoot from my room and into the kitchen. No new messages. The frown on my face was familiar, as was the way my heart seemed to sink in my chest. I was hoping that she would have sent a message, even if it was a brief one. Seeing nothing stung and I scowl at myself, “They’re on a mission!” I shout into my empty apartment as I throw my phone onto the kitchen counter and turn to the kettle to press its toggle down, “She won’t have time to send anything…” I trail off as I grab a mug and tea bag from the cupboard, willing the words to set my feelings at ease but there was still the tiniest voice way at the back of my mind that said otherwise, “Stop it.” I spit out harsh words to myself as I watch the steam rise from the kettle’s spout. But I can’t help it as the image of emerald-green eyes pop into my mind. I groan and rub my face with my hands, “Great…” I grumble just as the kettle clicks off, “What a fantastic way to start the morning…”

-----

My car rumbles along the dirt pathway leading up to the warehouse and I feel every shift and bump that it makes, but I don’t mind. It may be old but that just gives it character! Not something that everyone in Unit Bravo believes and when I had made the same joke about Ava herself, only Farah had laughed. I snicker as I remembered the sour look on Ava’s face as she had pursed her lips, her form tightening as she had turned away. I wonder how she’s doing…

Soon enough I pull up in front of the warehouse, parking my car and wincing at the loud creaking noise the handbrake made when I pulled it up. Maybe I should be thinking about upgrading… I’m sure Ava would help with her love of cars… I smack myself lightly on the forehead. Stop thinking about Ava, you have work to do! I unclip my seatbelt, yank my bag from the passenger seat, and open my door with a kick before stepping out onto the mossy forest floor. I threw my door closed with a slam that reverberated throughout the still almost silence and I stop in my tracks to just take in the view.

I loved it here. Being in the forest, being in nature with the trees and the animals. I loved the way the rays of sun filtered in through the treetops high above, their branches swaying in the wind and causing the light to dance about the ground in such interesting ways. I smile to myself before making sure my car is locked and heading inside the warehouse, walking through the dark and dusty false interior before entering through the key carded locked door and entering the warehouse proper. The door had only just closed behind me before a blur of colour rockets forwards from down the hall and I freeze on the spot, becoming a perfectly still target for the energetic vampire who would have knocked me over had my back not been right up against the door.

“Thea!” Farah squeals as she wraps her arms around my shoulders, pinning my hair to my back as she does so.

“Farah!” I reply and drop my bag to hug her back, “You’ve returned?” I laugh even as I feel my brow crease.

“Earlier this morning yeah.” She pulls back then picks my bag up and hands it to me. I watch as she cocks her head to one side and I shift on the spot when her eyes zero in on my face, “You’re upset?”

“Not about you returning!” I reassure her as I start my walk towards the library, “I was just hoping to get a text from Ava this morning. Considering…” I trail off, “I know its stupid, but is she in at the moment?” I ask as I turn my head slightly to peer at the shorter vampire who shakes her head in reply.

“She left an hour ago. Wouldn’t tell us where she was going, which is new but.” she shrugs and I watch her shoulders disappear into the frizz of her hair.

“Guess that for the best, I didn’t realize you guys were back today. I left Ava’s present back at my apartment.”

“You got her a present!” Farah shouts as she begins to bounce on the balls of her feet.

“Of course I did! Why wouldn’t I?” I chuckle as I push open the door to the library, allowing Farah to enter before me.

“What did ya get her?” Farah asks, skipping over to and flopping down onto the old patterned couch.

“Ohhh no,” I wag my finger at her as I dump my bag by her feet, “You’re terrible at keeping secrets. I’m more likely to tell Morgan than you and that only as she’ll forget because she doesn’t care.” I snicker, striding past Farah to the desk where I could see my paperwork sitting neatly atop. The sound of the chair scraping across the hardwood floor as I drag it out fills the large space, and I hope in vain that Nat hadn’t heard. I didn’t need another lecture on proper etiquette. I slump down into the chair and scoot back under the desk before spreading my files across its surface, only to be interrupted by the sound of a quirky tune rising from where Farah sat with her back to me. I sigh and give a quiet laugh as I turn in my chair, “Farah?” I start, speaking up to get her attention.

“Huh?” comes the distracted reply as she tilts her head backwards to look at me. I shake my own head with a grin.

“As much as I love your company I have work I need to do, and I rather I get it all done before Rebecca realizes I’ve been slacking again.”

“She’s not in charge of you anymore though?”

“Try telling her that!” I chortle, “And she’s still my mother. She’ll nag me about it and I’ll have to listen to her talk about work ethic again and I’d rather avoid that if I can.”

“Ugh! Fine fine, I’ll get out of your hair.”

I open my mouth to thank her. Only to stop and instead raise an eyebrow as she reaches behind to grab the arm of the couch with both hands before lifting her legs off from the cushions, arching them over her head pushing herself off the as she flips over. Her feet land with a thud against the ground and she raises her arms above her head as she turns to me, “Ta da!”

“You’re ridiculous!” I laugh as I clap and she grins before grabbing her beanie from the floor, the article of clothing having fallen off during her stunt and allowing half her face to be covered by her curls. She crams it back on her head and moves her hair aside to give me a wink and fire finger guns at me before spinning on her heel and leaving. I turn back to my paper and groan at the full day of work I saw ahead of me before I sigh, and begin.

 -----

I wake up with a start as a loud knock rings throughout the library. As I bolt upright in my seat a few stray sheets of paper that had stuck themselves to my face fall back to the desk. I shake my head, brush my hair over my shoulders and reach for my phone to check the time. If the bright numbers hadn’t alerted me to the fact that I had slept through the time I normally would have had lunch, then the rumble of my stomach would have clued me in. I jump and drop my phone back to the desk when whoever is outside the room knocks again.

“Uh, come in?” No need to raise my voice for whichever vampire it was that had the polite thought to knock first. The door cracks open and I quickly rub the sleep from my eyes, turning in my chair as Ava steps into the room.

“I apologize for interrupting your-“

“I was doing paperwork,” I cut in, sitting up straight and pulling back my shoulders. Ava raises an eyebrow.

“You were sleeping.”

“I was sleeping…” I sigh in admittance, allowing my posture to slacken as I lean an elbow on the table and prop my head up in the palm of my hand, “But in my defense I got up very early. I was semi-responsible.” Ava shakes her head at my joviality but I catch the ghost of a smile as she walks my way. The light that shines in through the windows behind me casts her in a curtain of gold and as I stare into the pools of her eyes my weariness seems to simply wash away. She stops an arm’s length away from me and it was only then that I realized she had been holding her arms behind her back the entire time. I lean to the side in an attempt to peer past her but she shifts in such a way that makes it impossible, “Spoilsport,” I hmph before looking up at her and the uncharacteristically nervous expression that twists her strong features, “Is something wrong?”

“No. Nothing is wrong.” She shakes her head yet the way her lips draw close says otherwise.

“Ava, you look like you’re constipated,” I snort as I push my chair back and get to my feet, “What’s up?”

She brings her arms out then from behind her back and extends her hands out towards me with her palms facing up, and a squat rectangular box sitting upon them. She clears her throat and I flick my attention back up to her face, “This is for you.” My eyes widen in surprise and I reach for the small black box.

“For me?” A nod, “I did get you something as well,” I add as Ava’s hands drop to her side, “But-“

“But you left it at your apartment. Farah informed me as such.”

“I knew she would tell you,” I chuckle before grasping the lid and opening the present.

It takes me a few seconds to see that the intertwining cords of leather are a bracelet and I feel a genuine smile grace my lips. And it was another few seconds after that that I realize the bracelet was one I recognized, and I felt my smile soften into something sadder.

“This is my dad’s,” I whisper softly, not taking my eyes from the precious gift.

“Yes,” Ava replies after a few silent seconds, “Agent Rickson mentioned that it was your favorite of all the ones he had. But it had been worn into being non functional.”

“It was falling apart,” I sniffle as I feel my cheeks heat up, “I wore it so much and after that I just didn’t want to risk losing it. So I stashed it away.” I fall silent as I gently lift the treasure from the box, turning it over in the sunlight as I take in every inch of it. The happiness that fills me as I slip it onto my wrist was too much to contain, and I feel my face break out in a wide grin as I place the box on the desk and step closer to Ava. I reach up towards her, cupping my hands at the back of her head as she grabs onto my waist and pulls me flush against her.

“Theadora. Thea. Animus meus, domus meus…” Ava’s words were so soft spoken, a side of her only I got to see and I stare into her face, into her eyes, into her soul.

“Ava Du Mortain. Amor meus, amicus meus, vita mea…” I watched as her gaze softened yet her eyes still sparkled as her mouth morphed into a perfect small smile, “I could get lost in your eyes forever.”

[greyskywrites]

Brother of the Moon IX.

I Did Love You, Once

6.1k | kofi | ao3 | tag

Margaret

The knights watch her door day and night. They let the children and Sunna the hearth girl come and go as they please, but any other servant or visitor must be allowed entry by Margaret herself. Bramble has the good sense not to try too hard.

Margaret lets it be known that she is dedicating herself to prayer, and keeps to her rooms until she leaves for evening mass. Wulfwyn reports to her that the servants believe she’s doing some witchcraft in her chambers, and that the knights are either bewitched or complicit. Margaret tells her she shouldn’t let the talk worry her, and sits by the fire with her prayer beads, going round and round again until Eadwin comes to see her.

He looks tired, and that worries her more than anything else. His hands are inkstained, she asks what he’s been writing because she doesn’t want to speak about Wulfric, or about their plans, or about how much she’s missed him and dreamed of him in the night. Dreams where she isn’t quite herself, but is what she hopes she will be.

Instructions, he says, for whoever takes up the duties he’s leaving behind. He lets her take his hands, turn them palms up as if she expects to find something there. She slides her fingers through his, looks up at him, at that somber, serious face she loves so much. It will be strange to see him in ordinary clothes, to sleep beside him and be able to wake in the night and know he’s there. “I have to keep telling myself this will all be over soon,” she whispers, wishing it already were. “Has his temper improved at all?” Meaning Wulfric.

“Only because he thinks you’ve been chastened into staying out of sight,” Eadwin says. “Which I would recommend you keep up, if you can bear it.”

“It’s not so lonely, the children come to see me.” She lets out a breath. “I feel so terribly guilty. Wulfwyn thinks she can depend on me. I just wish there was something I could do for them.”

“I know,” Eadwin murmurs. “I worry for them.”

The most he will allow, while they stand there with Sir Laure or Sir Eva about, is to kiss her temple, and touch her cheek. Margaret wants to pull him into the bedchamber and let him have her on the floor, but she lets that thought stay where it is. When they are gone from this place, when they are married, it will not be like this.

The next missive from Harry arrives when she’s on her way out for mass. They will be at Eagletop by tomorrow.

Margaret feels the hard press of the moonstone against her breast and thinks, soon it will all be over.

#.

They have made themselves a nice procession, her brothers. They arrive early in the afternoon with Harry and Felix riding out front, Marcus behind, and Theadora and her sons cloistered away in a carriage. They’re attended by servants and horse grooms, and Margaret doesn’t doubt that at least one of her brothers has a lover hidden away somewhere in the retinue.

She stands on the front steps with Sir Laure between her and Wulfric. Sir Eva, who will be taking the night watch of her bedchamber door, is sleeping.

Aethelric is on Wulfric’s other side, swaying gently as he strives to remain upright, and Eadwin beyond him. If she leans back just a little, Margaret can watch when Eadwin’s hand comes behind Aethelric to grab the back of his coat in a fist and hold him upright. He’s angled to make this less obvious from the front, which makes her wonder how often they’ve done this before.

Theadora, when she steps out into the late spring sunlight, is radiant as she always is. Harry did well for himself with her, and Margaret had always felt a sting of jealousy in how easily grace and femininity came to her. She finds she no longer feels that. Theadora is tall and slender and her curly black hair falls in pretty ringlets where she allows it to be loose. She has the prominent nose of a foreign queen, and it seems to Margaret that the only kind of smile Theadora ever gives is a coy one.

Felix is the blondest of Margaret’s brothers, and the leanest. He carries himself like a soldier, from a brief time fighting for the king. Margaret had used to light a candle for him at the church every day, praying for him to come home safely.

Harry and Theadora have two sons—George and Thomas—and apparently another on the way. Her nephews run up to her, and Margaret bends to catch them both in her arms, holding them tight. “Oh, I’ve missed you,” she says, kissing the tops of their heads. I will miss you.

There is the formal greeting, and when they go inside Felix comes up to embrace her. He pauses when he pulls back, and in a low voice asks: “Who busted that lip for you?”

It’s nearly completely healed, but she isn’t surprised that he noticed. Margaret forces a smile. “Ask me again later.”

Felix’s mouth flattens in displeasure, and he nods. “You’re well, otherwise?”

“Yes,” Margaret says, willing it to be true. She will be well, when she is away. “Have you heard about my black stag?”

“I did,” Felix says. “I heard Aethelric should be the one to tell me the story.”

Margaret holds in a curse when Aethelric’s head turns at the sound of his name. “Hm, what’s that?”

There’s no stopping this now, Aethelric excitedly recounting the story (he now says he expected her horse to sprout wings, that she rode like a barbarian princess) and Wulfric’s mood curdling like cream mixed with lemon juice. Margaret keeps close to Felix’s side, and Everard comes to hide behind them. When Aethelric has finished his story, Margaret leans to whisper in Felix’s ear. “I need to speak to you and Marcus and Harry in my chambers, tonight after mass. It’s urgent.”

Felix glances at her and nods. “Second thoughts?” he mutters.

“Something like that.”

When they were children and Harry would want to split into pairs, Felix always stayed with Margaret. Nearly everything Margaret knows about hunting, about archery and riding is because of Felix. She had asked him once, about a year before, why he had always taken her along. He had gone quiet for a moment, and then he had said: “When our mother was dying after you were born, she said Harry had to worry about learning from Father, but since I didn’t, she made me promise to take care of you.”

Felix had been eight when their mother died. He had always looked after Margaret.

Wulfric seems to like Theadora, though if Margaret has come to know anything about her sister-in-law, Theadora doesn’t much like him. Theadora always seems to know who everyone is, and when she doesn’t she always seems to be able to sniff out just exactly what sort of person they are.

Everything is a little tense, a little uncertain. There is enough time until dinner that Margaret is able to invite her family up to her chambers to see the stag hide and newly mounted antlers. George and Thomas go out to play with Wulfric’s children in the garden while the sun is shining, attended by Rhona and their own nurse.

The talk is all dreadfully dull and ordinary, until it comes up that Margaret has gone to a moon mass. Their father had viewed the moon mass as superstitious nonsense, and so she’s the only one to have done it. Even Theadora—cosmopolitan, worldly Theadora—has only read about them.

It’s easy enough to tell them about the preparations, the prayers and the chanting, but then they want to know what she saw.

Margaret tries to think of anything she can tell them, anything that won’t reveal too much or be marred by trying to articulate it.

Then, she sees her opportunity.

Sir Laure is watching the door. Margaret asks her not to let anyone in. She turns back to her family, who have grown noticeably more attentive. “The Heavenly Mother showed me I am not on the right path,” she says, quiet, like the dangerous secret it is. “I cannot marry Wulfric.”

Felix’s shoulders relax slightly, but Harry bristles. “And you’ve waited until now to say something—”

“We quarreled a few days ago,” Margaret says, “over something small. He struck me hard enough to break my lip. There were witnesses.” She shows Harry the pale scar he hasn’t yet noticed, and he quiets his temper somewhat. He won’t like this, he will complain of it, but being able to level the charge that his sister was mistreated will lessen for him the sting of being seen to renege on a perfectly sound arrangement.

“Sir Laure and Sir Eva had to stop him, or else the Mother only knows what he would have done with me. I tell you, I cannot stay here, but nor can Wulfric know that until I am ready to leave. His pride has not recovered from the day we went hunting. It is like a bed of thorns between us, and the servants and common folk whisper that I’m a witch.”

Margaret draws in a breath, and says the words she knows will put Theadora firmly on her side. “And he is bedding the maidservant he sends to tend to me. Has been since I arrived here.”

Theadora’s mouth presses into a thin line, and she gives Harry a pointed look. She will not have Wulfric for a brother-in-law. Not peaceably.

“Is this what you wished to speak about after mass?” Harry asks.

Margaret nods. “This notion that he wanted a pious wife had well run out by the time I arrived here. Brother Eadwin has been trying to persuade him into letting me go, but unless you make the first move I do not believe that his pride will allow him.”

“No, instead I must injure mine,” Harry mutters. “And after you spoke so fiercely for him. It is a good thing we have not cleared out your rooms at Grenacre.”

“I do not intend to return to Grenacre.” She must lie to them. “Father Algar and Brother Eadwin have offered to help me to whichever convent I may choose. I intend to take the veil, and dedicate my life to the Queen of Heaven—but not somewhere it will be easy for Wulfric to find me.”

Felix’s eyes narrow, but he won’t challenge her here in front of everyone. Harry lets out a laborious sigh, scrubbing his face. ���Must you?”

“Surely it would be easier for you,” Margaret says, clinging to hope. “I will be twenty-six by the end of the summer and have reneged on my only real marriage prospect thus far. You will not need to reassure anyone of me if I become a nun.”

Theadora lays a hand on Harry’s arm. “Margaret has always been the most devoted of any of us,” she says, gently. “Your father was the only thing that kept her from making a good marriage or joining the church. I see no harm in letting her go now. You still have two brothers to make family connections, no need to deny your sister her peace. It is no disadvantage to have family in the church.”

Please, Margaret thinks. Prays.

“Very well,” Harry sighs. “We will see you safely out of here and deal with the consequences afterward. Father Algar is the priest at this church, yes?”

“And the abbot, yes.” Margaret will not let her heart soar, not until Felix stops looking at her with that keen and cutting gaze.

“Then I hope you will write to us when you are settled somewhere,” Harry says. “Though I wish you had come to this decision earlier.”

Margaret gives a smile that is more of a grimace. “So do I.”

Felix glances at the window, at the shifting light, and stands. “Margaret, I have a mind to go for a ride before we dine. Show me this place that’s driven you away already.”

“Let me collect my coat,” Margaret says, not looking forward to this.

Felix waits until they are well past the gates, and riding out along the edge of the trees with no one around. “So is it a lover you like better? Because I don’t believe you have the makings of a nun. Not even a Knight of the Sun, though I know they’re always hungry for archers.”

Margaret hadn’t wanted to cry, but she cracks like an egg. She draws her horse up short, and gets out of the saddle, grasping it for support as she shakes, weeping. Felix dismounts and leads his horse around to her. “Maggie, what is it?” he asks, soft.

“Can you keep it secret for me?” she asks. “Can you please, Felix, keep my secret and let me go?”

“It would help if I knew what and where.”

“I can’t tell you until you give me your word.”

“I hate to see you cry,” Felix says, pulling out his kerchief to blot her face dry. “You have my word, on our mother. The earthly one, and I suppose the Heavenly one as well.”

“I do have a lover,” Margaret says, “he has asked me to marry him, and I intend to leave with him.”

Felix considers that, glancing back at the castle. “I assume it’s not the drunk one,” he says, “since it would be hard to slip away unnoticed.”

“No,” Margaret laughs, more tears welling in her eyes. “No, it’s not Aethelric.”

Felix thinks a moment longer, and looks at her. “You left Grenacre with the monk, didn’t you?”

There are times Margaret wishes her brother knew her less well. “Shortly after we left, Father sent a man to try and bring me home. Brother Eadwin sent him away without incident, but I was so frightened, I—” She stops, and pulls up her sleeve to show Felix the thin scars. “I’m not going back to Grenacre.”

Felix takes her wrist, a pained expression on his face. “Saints and angels,” he murmurs.

“Eadwin found me and took me to the church,” she murmurs, letting the ‘brother’ drop because she isn’t fooling Felix. “I felt safe with him and I knew he looked at me as he shouldn’t, so I asked him if he would be my first, so that it needn’t be as terrible as Theadora’s wedding night.”

“And he obliged you, did he?” Felix asks, dry.

“After a great deal of persuasion,” Margaret says with a faint smile. “Believe me, Felix, I had to chase him down, and it was me that wouldn’t let him alone afterward. I was as bad as Marcus is.” She wipes at her eyes. “He’s done everything he can to keep me safe here, but now we have to go.”

Felix is looking at her again. “You’re with child, aren’t you? That’s why this sudden hurry.”

“It isn’t the only reason,” she says. “I saw what I could be, in the moon mass. Something I can only be if I leave.” She looks up at Felix, begging him to understand. “I won’t be able to come home again.”

“No, you won’t.” Felix sighs, and draws her into his arms, resting his cheek on the top of her head. “Though you might have the decency to write to me under whatever new name you choose for yourself. Tell me what it is you needed to become.”

Margaret laughs softly, squeezing him tight. “I saw our mother in the mass. The earthly one.”

Felix pulls back, holding her by the shoulders. “Did you?”

Margaret nods. “She is at peace. She said things I needed to hear.”

Felix nods. “And Brother Eadwin, you trust him to keep his promises to you?”

“Yes.”

“I would like to speak with him.”

Margaret lets out a breath. “Ask him to show you the church.”

Felix nods again, and leans in to kiss the top of her head. “If you ever need help, just write. There won’t be an army in the world that can stand against me.”

Margaret smiles. “My hope is that you won’t go against any armies ever again.”

#.

Eadwin

He supposes he knows when Felix Beckett asks to be shown the church. Margaret is just past him, she gives Eadwin a particular look. He says, of course, it shouldn’t take long. Shall we walk?

“My sister says she trusts you,” Felix says as they leave the hearing of anyone else. “What I want to know is if I should.”

Eadwin glances at him. “Did she tell you that I tried to get her away from here before this?”

“What did you try?”

Eadwin sighs. “I asked her to take the veil.”

Felix snorts. “And how did that work out for you?”

“She slapped me.”

“Good.” Felix folds his arms over his chest. “What kind of life is it that you expect to take her to?”

“Not one as comfortable as she’s accustomed to, I’m sure,” he says. “But she won’t hear of anything else. I mean to take her to my family, at least until we can get our feet under us.”

“And you won’t be found there?”

“No.”

“She says you intend to marry her.”

“I do.”

Felix nods, and they stop along the path, looking at each other. “Just know this,” Felix says, “if ever she gets word to me that she’s in need of help, there is not a thing in the world that would stop me nor a man I would not kill to see her safe and well.”

Eadwin nods. “I’m glad there’s someone who wants to see her safe and happy as much as I do.”

Felix smiles, just a little, and it is easy to see Margaret in his face. “You’ll be more faithful to her than you were to your vows, I hope.”

“He would be a stronger man than I would have anything left in him to go chasing after others,” Eadwin says. “And if I somehow managed to stray, I’m sure she would set me right.”

Felix seems satisfied, and they make a quick tour of the church and an introduction to Father Algar. Felix says, “I understand you’ve been a great help to my sister. I want to thank you for that.”

Father Algar glances between Felix and Eadwin, and nods. “Of course, my lord. I only wish we could do more.”

Felix returns to the castle without Eadwin to take dinner before mass. Eadwin is gathering up the last of his personal papers that he has decided he must take, stowing them in the same aged leather pack in which he first brought his scant few belongings to the abbey. Father Algar brought it out of storage himself, to avoid any whispering. Eadwin’s old clothes had long since been given to the poor, and he had his doubts that he could still wear the same shirt he had had at twenty. He has instead new garments, just enough to take him home.

There are also men’s clothes that he hopes will fit Margaret, if she wants them. It isn’t altogether unusual for the abbey to commission clothes, if they have nothing that will suit the beggar that has come to their door.

He thought he ought to send a letter, to warn his family that he was coming—but he cannot risk his rare correspondence being noticed. Better everyone assume that they have long since fallen out of touch. Few of the brothers even know what Eadwin’s surname was before he took his vows.

He feels as though a thread has been drawn tight, now that the hour of their departure is near. All he has to do is make it from one end to the other before it snaps, before he falls.

He doesn’t know exactly when Margaret will be ready, but they have only three days before the wedding’s set date. He would be happy to leave in the middle of the night after mass, but he needs a sign from Margaret, and enough time to tell Aethelric so that they might have horses.

He has discussed this with Father Algar, that he will leave his habit and aught else that belongs to the abbey, and Algar will perform the ceremony to release him from his vows after he is gone. It grieves him to think of never seeing these walls again, or this particular statue of the Mother sitting above the altar.

His home never had a church when he was a boy, though he recalls hearing from Fortune that one was being built. He can’t recall what order was overseeing it.

It is a quiet evening. All of Margaret’s family are present, the younger of her nephews seated in her lap and asleep halfway through. Margaret lets him sleep against her shoulder, rubbing his back as she murmurs her prayers, and Eadwin thinks he should like to see this again, with their own child. He does not know what their lives will look like after they leave, but he is beginning to imagine.

Most of her family depart as soon as the mass ends, but Margaret and Felix linger and step to the side of the sanctuary to speak to him. “Tomorrow night,” she says, “I’ll be ready to leave. Harry says he’ll tell Wulfric I’ve gone to a convent the next morning.”

Eadwin nods. “I’ll make sure everything is ready.”

#.

The man without a name

When he is most himself he feels distant from his brothers. It is because he is a secret, he thinks. They look at him and they call him by Margaret’s name and it is a name that belongs to him less and less. Sometimes it fits as it always has, and sometimes it becomes a terrible weight. He still can’t find one that fits better.

He hardly sleeps that night, thinking of his imminent escape. Freedom is so tantalizingly close, for the first time in his life. His fingers itch for something to cut his hair. Margaret’s nursemaid always used to fuss over her hair, scolding furiously for every twig and bit of moss she had to comb from it. He wants to cut it short, no longer than his chin, wants to be free of the weight and free of the need to contain it in braids or nets.

As soon as he’s away from this place, he thinks, he’ll have Eadwin help him cut his hair. He’ll put on a shirt and trousers and when he sees his reflection he will finally be as he ought to be.

Margaret frets about the loss of her beauty, she worries about her hair and her breasts and the softness of her features that has always earned her compliments. When he feels more himself, he worries about that less.

It feels strange to be aware of himself, sometimes. Margaret has spent so much time ignoring him, quieting him, that it was easy to forget he even existed. He remembers now an argument with her nursemaid, Margaret must have been four or five. He can’t remember what she had done, but the nursemaid was scolding her for not being ladylike. Margaret had stamped her foot and declared, “When I’m a man, I won’t have to listen to you!” The thought makes him smile, now.

Secreting the moonstone under his shift in the morning, he thinks: tonight I will be free. He will wake early just to see his first free sunrise. He will hold Eadwin close and they will no longer have to hide even from strangers.

He dresses and takes down the stag hide and antlers from the wall. The lie is that she’s sending them to Grenacre with Felix, as a gift. The secondary lie is that it’s to appease Wulfric. He could think of no other way to explain taking them down, packing them. Losing the books because they are too heavy he can bear. He can’t bear to leave these behind.

He strokes his hand over the hide, finding the hole left by that first arrow, behind the shoulder. He can slot a finger into it, and he thinks I will never see a stag as fine as this one again.

He dedicates the day to spending as much time with his family as he can, memorizing the faces of his brothers and nephews, their laughter. He commits to memory his nephews in a grand game with Wulfwyn, and how even Everard seems a little bolder with them, perhaps because they are excited about his dog. He ties one of his ribbon into the hair of Mildred’s doll, and tells himself that this has to be enough.

#.

Eadwin

Eadwin is late to the castle, because things must be made ready. The others in the abbey think he’s preparing to make a pilgrimage to the Shrine of Our Lady on the Water, and because of this they think he must be quite ill. Aethelric, he is surprised to find, is sober—though he complains of an aching head.

“Listen,” Eadwin says quietly, “it must be tonight.”

Aethelric nods. “I’ll tell Rhona.” He looks at Eadwin with the clearest eyes he’s had in years. “Good luck, Brother.”

Eadwin can only nod and say, “Thank you.”

It is near midday, and the Becketts are in the great hall, talking and laughing. Margaret’s brothers are discussing going riding after the meal. Sir Laure and Sir Eva have stepped out for a moment, thinking Margaret plenty safe while surrounded by her family. Margaret looks at him, smiles for just a moment.

Maybe he can’t give her a cathedral, but if he can give her any reason to smile that will be enough.

It’s an artful performance, how well the family can make courteous gestures to Wulfric when he arrives. They all fall into particular roles, and Eadwin thinks: they did this with the old Lord Henry. They think they know what kind of man Wulfric is, they think they know how to handle him.

Aethelric arrives last, but before the kitchens have brought out anything besides wine. Eadwin takes a cup and goes to persuade Mildred out from beneath the table, since he can see Rhona growing exasperated. “Lady Mildred, please sit at the table. I heard that the kitchens made raspberry cakes today, and you won’t get one if you’re under the table.”

Mildred climbs up as Bramble hurries into the hall. She looks like a spooked hare, and by all rights she shouldn’t be here just now, with Margaret’s family all about. Eadwin stands, an uneasy feeling settling in his gut. Aethelric rises, too.

Bramble goes to Wulfric, whispering to him. Wulfric looks at her, and then seizes her arms. Bramble yelps in fear. “Are you ready to make that accusation?” Wulfric demands, loud enough to silence the hall. “Are you damned ready to accuse?”

Bramble nods, shaking. “M’lord,” she says, loud for everyone else’s benefit. “Lady Margaret is with child. I heard Felix Beckett telling Lady Theadora.”

The air goes out of the room.

“Is it true?” Wulfric shouts, rounding on Margaret.

“My lord,” Margaret says, with a shake in her voice, “you can’t trust the gossip of servants who have already turned against me. Particularly not one who has cause to be jealous.” She doesn’t sound certain enough. She sounds too frightened.

Wulfric grabs her by the elbows, and Margaret flinches. Felix rises to his feet, reaching for the knife at his hip, but his brother Henry stops him. Eadwin hears him whisper: “You knew about this?”

“Tell me who!” Wulfric’s face is scarlet with rage. Eadwin has never seen him like this.

Margaret swings a fist across Wulfric’s face. There are tears on her cheeks, but her expression and voice are furious. “You don’t deserve his name,” she snarls. “You arrogant, weak, pathetic little man.”

Wulfric takes a fistful of her hair and throws Margaret to the stone floor and Theadora screams. Eadwin moves, only peripherally aware of Felix throwing his brother off and leaping over the table to put himself between his sister and Wulfric. Eadwin tries to gather her up, but Margaret is ready to spit acid, her fingers curled into claws, straining to fight.

Eadwin looks up, and Wulfric’s gaze is fastened on him, cold. “You son of a whore,” Wulfric says, low and cold. “Is that what you chose her for?”

He won’t defend himself, not to Wulfric. He pulls Margaret to her feet, holds her back until Marcus can get hold of her.

“Is that what you were doing while you were taking your sweet precious time to get here?” Wulfric roars. “Fucking the woman you were supposed to be bringing to me?”

Eadwin just looks at him. “I told you to let her go. It would have spared everyone this mess.”

He is expecting it when Wulfric hits him, expecting really to be knocked down (it has been a long time since he fought) but Margaret makes a sound that’s almost a howl and she must have broken free of her brother because she bolts past Felix and Eadwin only sees the silver flash of that dagger before the blade is buried in Wulfric’s shoulder.

She isn’t trying to kill him, Eadwin thinks. She would know to go for the belly.

Wulfric knocks her down again, her head striking the table, and he kicks her before Felix bowls him backwards and turns to pick up his sister. There’s blood seeping down the side of Margaret’s face. Eadwin becomes conscious of the fact that he tastes copper as he pulls himself up.

“Arrogant whore,” Wulfric snarls, pulling himself up and jerking the dagger out of his shoulder. It clatters across the table, bloody, and a dark stain seeps through Wulfric’s grey doublet. “Did you think you could keep it up? Think you could bear some bastard and I wouldn’t notice?”

“You were never going to see my child’s face,” Margaret snarls, her hair torn loose from its net. Eadwin can’t tell if her brothers are holding her up or holding her back. The blood from the cut on her head is leaving black speckles on her blue dress. “I could never marry a man as vile as you.”

The children are pressed against the back wall. Mildred is crying and Wulfwyn is trying to shield her little sister’s eyes. Theadora is with her sons, holding them against her breast. Everard only shivers.

Wulfric isn’t fool enough to think he can lay hands on Margaret again, not with her brothers looking at him like that. He turns his gaze back on Eadwin.

Eadwin thinks: I do not want to die like this. His eyes fall on the hearth, the iron poker.

Wulfric begins to move forward and Eadwin starts for the fire, wrapping his hand around the black iron.

Aethelric grabs Wulfric’s shoulder and spins him round, and it’s difficult for Eadwin to understand what he sees because it looks like Aethelric only punches his brother in the stomach—but all the air goes out of Wulfric in a gasp, and it is just then that Eadwin sees the hilt of Margaret’s dagger. Bramble, all but forgotten, screams.

Aethelric draws Wulfric to his shoulder, holding the dagger fast in his brother’s belly. “If our mother had known how much worse than our father you would be, she would have smothered you in the cradle,” he says, in a low voice. “I should have finished the job for her, killed you before you killed Anna. I’ll not let you take anything else from me.” The dagger comes out and goes back in, and Aethelric stares stonily over Wulfric’s shoulder as his brother sags against him, dying.

Aethelric puts a hand on the back of Wulfric’s head. “Do you know the real tragedy of this, Wulfric?” he asks, soft. “I did love you, once.” Aethelric gives Wulfric a shove, and his brother crumples to the floor, dying.

Aethelric wipes the dagger on one of the napkins and lifts his head. “I trust we all saw the same thing,” he says, “that my brother went mad and was at risk of killing Lady Margaret if he was not stopped.”

No one speaks. Even the crying children have gone quiet.

Aethelric turns the dagger over, offering Margaret the hilt. “This belongs to you.”

She takes it, returning the blade to her sleeves, and lets out a breath.

“Brother Eadwin,” Aethelric says, not looking at him. “When you have a moment, ask my brother’s lawyers if they would still like to be employed. I will have need of them.” He casts a contemptuous glance at Bramble. “I will deal with you later. Rhona, take the children to their rooms.” Bramble flees while Rhona gathers up the children. Wulfwyn’s face is white as a sheet.

Henry Beckett turns to his sister. “What else did you feel was not important to tell me?” he asks, his voice low and edged.

Margaret glares at him. “You are not my father.”

“Was the convent a lie?” Henry demands.

“Of course it was a fucking lie,” Margaret says. “Why would you ever believe I would exchange one cage for another?”

“Damn you, Margaret!” Henry overturns a bench with a thunderous noise. “And you,” he grabs Felix by the shirt. “You knew, why didn’t you damn well tell me?”

“Because you’d react like this,” Felix says, flat. Lady Theadora has already rushed her sons away, isn’t there for her husband to rage at her.

Henry Beckett turns and looks at Eadwin, his hands curled into fists. “If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you,” he says, and he grabs his sister by the arms. “Get her things,” he barks at his brothers, pulling her toward the doors. “We’re going home.”

“No,” Margaret says, and when Henry doesn’t let her go, “No! No, I’m not going back!” She pulls out her dagger again and Henry grabs her wrist.

“You won’t be pulling that stunt again,” he says, and twists her arm until she releases the dagger.

Margaret fights him, but her brother is too strong for her. “Eadwin!” Margaret screams. “Eadwin, please, I can’t go back!”

He starts for her, and Felix stops him. “Don’t,” he says, “he will kill you.” He looks at Eadwin for a moment, and as the door falls shut behind a screaming Margaret he says, “Come in a month. Henry will put her in the convent at Grenacre, where he thinks he can keep an eye on her. That’s the last kindness I’ll ever do for you.” He tucks Margaret’s dagger into his belt and turns to leave.

Eadwin stands, not sure he can bear to sit down or stand still. He feels he might be sick. Would Margaret survive a month?

Aethelric sinks onto an upright bench. “That was ugly,” he says. “And it will be ugly, I suspect, unless I can convince a court that I killed my own brother to protect Lady Margaret. Kinslaying is a hard thing to defend.” He picks up a spilled cup, fills it with wine once more. The body of Wulfric lays on the floor between them like the carcass of a boar. Aethelric drinks and closes his eyes. “Lucky that one of her brothers seems to have liked you at least a little, I suppose,” he says. “I imagine you won’t wait here for a month.”

“No,” Eadwin says, “I have to—I have to speak to her.” He has to tell her he will come for her.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” Aethelric says. “I doubt Lord Henry will let her out of his sight until they’re well away from here.” He looks at the body of his brother, something like sad weariness on his face. “I can’t believe how many years we spent fearing him.” He looks at Eadwin. “If you’re fast, you may be able to get one of the servants to take her a note, or some other sign from you.”

Eadwin starts to move for the door, and stops when his hand touches the oak. “My lord Aethelric.”

“Ugh, don’t call me that.”

“My lord,” Eadwin repeats. “Thank you for saving my life. And if I may counsel you one last time—make Wulfwyn your heir.”

Aethelric laughs softly and nods. “That is a good idea. Thank you, Brother. If this is goodbye, then I am sorry of it—and I wish you luck.”

[yoshitsuno]

Sebastian Sallow x Theadora Gravethorne 🐍❤🦁 Another commission for the sweet @snickette / @solemn-marauders who asked me her beautiful Sebadora ❤❤ Working with her it's always a pleasure ❤