Crystallised

Spoiler:

He was flying. Arms outspread, no broom in sight. There was power in his flight. He was rising, rising, rising ... The air got thinner, thinner, thinner ... Enough, enough, he thought. And in that moment, he knew that something was wrong. He was a flying shell. Where was the feel in his limbs, the rush of wind to feel in his hair? Powerlessness. What was this? He barely panicked. It wasn't time yet. He could still breathe. He could still salvage it. Yet, even as he soared, he knew. He just knew. He was soaring up into oblivion. There was no slice of a blade, there was no overwhelming of water, and there was no burning from a fire. There was just this. This nothing. He wasn't dying. That was the problem. Was there an end to this? While he couldn't feel his way around, he knew. He knew he was rendered an infinity of this. Nothing. And in that moment, he wanted to fall. He wanted nothing more than to fall, to feel the plunge of his body with the gravity of the earth. There was none of it, though. He began to perspire. It was cold.

It was light when he awoke, frowning in confusion. Stupid dream. If there was one thing that irritated him, it was the unknown. Stupid Athena. Where was she? Why couldn't she be here with him? He hated sleeping alone. There always had to be a woman before this soft space can even dream to be a bed. And of all times that he needed to wake up to one woman, she was ... Well, she was herself, really. Ever so elusive Athena Rookwood, he mused. He didn't know why she she had agreed to being married to him. If she loved him, she barely showed it. Yet, he mused about the tease of a smile she would let slip in their moments. Oh. Oh yeah, she loves me. With a satisfied grin, he sat up in bed. Of course, there was still time for her to not turn up for the wedding. Will they still be married if she did so? He wasn't troubled though. Well, he didn't have to look that far to know if Athena would turn up for their wedding.

Kendall knew he had to get up, soon. He was needed, along with Athena, for the wedding preparations. To be honest, he wasn't sure what to expect. After all, this was Raghnall's doing. It was a whirlwind of a life lately. What with Athena back from the dead, to the dawn of his sons in her womb, to the familial complications, and then to this eventual wedding. He was less concerned about the fact that he didn't make a grand gesture of a proposal. After all, true to Rookwood fashion, and true to the traditional ways of Pureblood families, the union between Athena and him was settled by the meeting of the two living family greats - Raghnall Rookwood and Penelope Goyle. Yet, it was Raghnall's hand that demanded the full cooperation of Kendall and Athena, by owl.

With expected obedience, Kendall had stayed put at Rookwood Manor. It was his home, after all. A week has passed since his last visit to his wife-to-be. He barely worried about the care that was put in place for Athena and his sons. Really, he was more satisfied to have spent days with her. The boy was already dealing with the fact that he could miss a woman as much as he had missed Athena. It was inevitable, with her. He didn't want to admit that he had gone soft about her, though. After all, he wasn't going to admit about how sore he felt to not have had Athena at the Manor with him, especially since he had took to writing a personal owl requesting for her presence. He let out a deep breath that he had taken, gearing up for whatever excuse she might have later, assuming that she shows up. Shrugging, Kendall sank back down into bed, enjoying the feel of the sheets against his naked skin.

A few more minutes ... He stretched.

Outfits for Kendall and Augustus

The morning rose later than usual, the sky remaining dark well into the late morning until the sun rose over the tops of the trees, grazing the earth that it fell over, wakening the sleeping foliage and the animals that lay within it, curled up in dreamland with not a care to the world that existed beyond the perimeter of their minds. Athena, one of those still below the surface of her dreams, was in no rush to wake but as the blades of gentle light weaved in through the net curtains, breaking the darkness that had enveloped her bedroom, the young woman began to shift and turn, her hands coming to rest on her belly as she tried, even in her slumber, to placate the wakefulness of her sons that wriggled within her, elbowing each other and their dreamy mother.

It was a little after nine when the woman finally tipped herself onto her back, her head cushioned by the feather-stuffed pillows and opened her eyes to the world, taking in the sumptuous decor of the room in which she had slept since she had moved into the little cottage she had come to call her home. She pushed the covers down to her waist and curled them beneath her stomach, accentuating the mound that had rose from her almost overnight. Athena brought a fond hand across the arc of her stomach and allowed a small smile to float to the surface of her lips before tapping gently against her skin that had been exposed by her nightdress that had ridden up some time while she had been sleeping.

Two strong nudges responded to her touch and Athena propped herself up a little on her spare arm, her elbow digging ineffectively into the cushions that bowed under the pressure, not giving her nearly as much leverage as she had first wanted. Yet the girl could see enough and with careful fingers she pressed into the side of her stomach, her touch finding the sole of a foot, and then another. A kick beat at her fingers, expelling her from the cavity she was probing and the woman smirked giving a second prod that she wished she had not as soon as she drew her fingers away.

Athena hissed in pain as one of the little buggers angels threw his foot into her ribs and she immediately decided that she was better of leaving him be. Instead she moved to the other side and pressed gently into the other side, feeling the second set of feet that was pressed into her stomach. What returned was something less painful, instead just a little niggle against her, to let her know that whoever was there was well aware that she was too. Athena had decided long ago that the more docile of the two was going to be Augustus. She did not know what had made her decide upon his but she knew his personality well enough to find it appropriate. He needed a strong name. She doubted the more boisterous of the two needed such an accolade.

The young woman’s musings were cut short by two short, sharp knocks on the door, signalling the arrival of her maid. Athena called for the elder woman to enter and she did so swiftly, in a flurry of linens and dresses. Things were set down, others were put in drawers and Athena, though she had pulled the covers back around her when the woman had entered, sent them back down to where they had sat before as she forced herself into a sitting position in order to watch the woman rumble around the room like a hurricane. Eventually, as quickly as she had begun, she stopped and stood at the bottom of the bed, hands on her hips, looking at Athena accusingly as if to scold her. Words need not have been said. Athena bristled and lowered her eyes to the emerald bedspread fanned around her lower body, feeling the flush of embarrassment rise to her cheeks.

“Your grandmother is down in the kitchen with your grandfather, Miss Goyle.” The woman told her simply and without preamble. Athena ran her fingers through the front of her hair and could not help but shoot the woman a quizzical look, as if to say: ‘so?’ “Did you forget, Madam? Today is the day you are to go to Rookwood Manor in preparation for the wedding! Hurry, my darling, to dilly-dally is to commit a sin!” And with that, her maid, the esteemed Miss Ellen, whirled around the bedroom again, taking clothing out of drawers and matching things together for Athena to wear. Athena, meanwhile, set about getting herself out of bed but in the end had to accept help from Miss Ellen as the older woman badgered her about what she needed to wear.

After an impromptu bath that lead to Athena needing even more help in manoeuvring herself, the young woman was slipped into a dress made of soft silk that fell over her, brushing against her body in all of the flattering places, smoothing out all of the lumps and bumps caused by pregnancy and softly accentuated the curve of her stomach. Pearl pins were used to do the dress up at the back and bits of ribbon of a slightly darker shade were tied around her middle, nipping the dress in a little which brought more attention to her bump but was subtly done, not unpleasantly so. Pearl earrings were pressed through the pierced holes in her earlobes and a necklace was drawn around the base of her throat before she was helped into an ivory, floor-length coat. Once dressed, she slipped her feet into a heel-less pair of shoes and wriggled her toes within them as Miss Ellen fixed her hair, charming it so it fell into gentle curls. Once her coat was cleaned of any stray bits of hair, Athena was helped down the stairs and into the kitchen where, true enough, her grandparents were indeed waiting with a weary looking Ira who appeared to have taken the guest bedroom for the night.

“Good Morning.” Athena greeted them easily as she reached into the basket of her essentials that sat upon the counter. She pulled on her gloves and took her purse, oddly matching her dress, making sure that it was filled with a pouch of money and some other items she needed including a comb and a pack of gum – the latter she knew would do nothing for her insatiable appetite that had been afflicting her as of late. She turned to greet her grandfather who had risen from his chair and placed a kiss to his cheek as he enveloped her in a hug. After drawing back, Odysseus looked at his granddaughter with obvious curiosity, turning her a little to the side so he could better gage the size that she had ballooned to.

“Well, would you look at that.” He said with a small smirk. Athena’s eyebrows rose but before she could answer, her grandmother cut in, ever acting without pleasantries.

“Yes, well, we have places to be, Odysseus, if you don’t mind. They are, of course, expecting us.”

“I don’t actually remember this being arranged.” Athena commented unhelpfully as she reached over to take a bit of toast from Ira’s plate.

“We agreed on this weeks ago. If it wasn’t for me, this whole affair would be in shambles. Now, can we hurry away?”

“In a minute. Is there any post for me?”

“Yeah.” Ira supplied. “One from Nana.” He said, in reference to their great grandmother, Calliope. “One from Cian. No doubt another moan about the money.” Ira rolled his eyes and smirked a little when Athena discarded her uncle’s letter into the crackling fireplace without much though on the matter. “And... I have no idea about this one, Thea.” Ira handed the last letter to Athena and she turned it over, taking in the elegant script that adorned the front. It bore the return address as well as her own. What struck Athena the most was the fact that the sender had printed her full name on the front. But that was only temporary when she caught sight of the seal on the back of the letter. The girl’s fingers felt at the seal in order to open it but was pressed forward by her grandmother towards the fireplace, the woman evidently more impatient than she first though.

Stuffing the letter into her purse, Athena stepped through the floo and found herself stepping out the other side in one of the many parlours in Rookwood Manor. She was greeted by a rather sheepish looking House Elf and Athena looked at it somewhat impatiently as it reached to take her coat from her. Athena watched the Elf hesitantly as it seemed to struggle with her heavy coat. She bent a little to take it back from the elf and drew it against herself, smiling a little at the creature as it shot her a relieved look of thanks. However, the moment was broken by the arrival of her family members that suddenly seemed to pour out from the fireplace.

First it was Penelope, then Odysseus who had Ira by the scruff of the neck; the latter barely dressed, still trying to adjust his glasses on his face. Then seemingly, the whole family poured from within. Her Uncle Cian who she immediately narrowed her eyes at, followed by her Uncle Diomedes and Uncle Ophion – as well as their wives. Athena opened her mouth to protest but before she knew what had happened, coats upon coats were dumped on the small House Elf and Athena was being ferried through the house by her half-walking, half-limping Uncle Cian who appeared to have adopted an even grislier exterior.

“Darling. At least say hello.” Came the gentle call from his wife who stood at the mouth of the fireplace, as odd looking as ever, yet still retaining that air of beauty that she held to her person. Cian looked at her as if she were mad but after a pointed look from his wife, gave a gruff hello that really wasn’t to anyone in particular. “We thought we’d all come along to see your dress, Athena.” Corianna continued with a chirpy lilt to her voice that made Athena bristle even further.

“You could have at least asked to come.” She retorted with a petulant look on her face, suddenly feeling very childish and foolish.

“I asked them.” Penelope announced lightly, watching with cold eyes as the elf collapsed under the weight of all of the coats. “You could do with a better pair of eyes.” And with that, she left the room no doubt in search of Raghnall. Cian lurched after her, muttering something under his breath about his family and how he’d much rather be on a golf course somewhere. Then reluctantly everyone else began to follow. Odysseus gave a sharp kick to Ira’s calf and the boy scrambled forward, fiddling with his glasses again as he was shoved out in the hallway. Corianna followed arm in arm with Raidne who was being stalked closely by Diomedes who had not so much as spared a glance in Athena’s direction.

That of course left her with Uncle Ophion and her Aunt Macaria, the latter of whom wrapped her up in a hug as best she could considering the lump of babies between them.

“Look at you!” She exclaimed as she pulled away, brushing away loose tendrils of hair from Athena’s face. “You’re so much older than I remember you. You were nothing but a little cherub the last time I saw you. I’ve got so much to tell you. And you me, no doubt, hmm? But marriage! Sacré bleu! Are you excited?”

Athena could only shrug her shoulders, a mixture of honest opinion and bewilderment at what was going on. Macaria smiled indulgently at her favourite niece and pressed to kisses to each cheek before allowing her husband to hug his niece. As he did so, she herself when to inspect the House Elf – to help the poor little creature out from

“I apologise for not visiting you sooner.” Ophion told the brunette as he took her smaller hands in his own larger ones. “We have just gotten back from Africa. It’s beautiful there, though. I wish you’d come with us. As it is though, you’ve been having your own excitement. Your grandmother was quite insistent we come. She knows how I feel about all this whole wedding business.” He reached for his wife at his, looping an arm around her waist as if to prove his point.

“We had better find out where they all went.” Macaria told her husband dutifully. “Penny will only get angry otherwise.”

Ophion rolled his eyes, the irises sparkling with the idea of skipping out on the whole affair. He chuckled at the look his wife gave him and tucked Athena’s hand in the crook of his arm before tightening his grip on his wife’s waist and leading them both out of the parlour. They followed the sound of Cian’s complaints down the hallway and heard a distinctly Ira-sounding shriek followed by the slap of wood against skin. Ophion winced visibly and Athena drew herself closer to her Uncle, her spare hand coming to rest over her stomach as she truly began to wonder whether she had been better off in bed.

The trio walked in hesitantly through the doors that lead into the stateroom and seemed to happen upon a rather curious scene. Raidne and Corianna was sat gossiping on one of the settees. Odysseus had already found the whisky, bourbon or whatever the hell it was that was sitting in the decanter on the table by one of the windows. Penelope was nowhere to be seen Cian was threatening Ira with his walking stick which anyone who knew him would know to be disguised as his wand. Diomedes was merely sat on the opposing settee, watching his wife intently.

“Really?” Ophion intoned, causing his brother to look up from his attack on Ira. “Do come along now, brother. Leave poor Ira alone. He’s certainly done nothing to you.”

“Aye.” Cian bristled. “But he’s there.” Cian stepped forward abruptly, causing Ira to shriek. The boy hurried away, barrelling towards Athena whose arm he quickly caught and clung onto, adopting the least manly pose he could ever take on.

“Sit down, Cian.” Ophion told his elder brother, his tone firm but somewhat careless. “You bore me. Are we due breakfast or are we to starve, by the way?”

“Merlin only knows.” Odysseus called out from behind his glass. “But on that note, where’s Penny?”

Augustus scratched his back and placed his copy of The Daily Prophet down on the table, beside his morning coffee. Cordelia had gotten better these days. He watched as gracefully bundled up her hair and stood up to indicate that they were due in the stateroom with the guests from the Goyle family. It was part of their parental duties to attend to prominent guests of the wedding anyway, especially if they were the bride's family. Cordelia was undoubtedly the more excited half. Augustus, on the other hand, was going just for the amusement of drama. He was sure that he wasn't going to be disappointed.

Easily fitting his slippers on, Augustus took Cordelia's hand as they made their way to the stateroom. His mind, however, strayed to Maia. He knew he hadn't seen her in awhile, but he liked to keep her waiting. After all, he assumed, the girl had nothing to do and no one to see. It pleased him to be deluded that he held her key to the world. Oh, the power.

The room that the couple entered was comfortably warm. Yet, even for its size, it now looked small with the number of people in it. Offering a wink towards Odysseus's direction, he made an effort with greetings and small talk. Cordelia was ever the dutiful Rookwood wife. She stayed by his side, in his shadow, before his indication to entertain the other women in the room. Meanwhile, House Elves had entered the room with breakfast in tow. Raghnall saw no need to make it an overtly elaborate affair. Coffee, tea and juice were served along with muffins and toasts.

It was the smell that greeted Kendall first. Entering the room, he made no effort to meet and greet like his father. Instead, he walked towards the nearest House Elf, and grabbed a muffin off her tray. Only after a couple of bites did he finally opened his eyes again, done with the complete savouring, and scanned the room. His eyes knew what they were looking for, and they found no time to lock themselves towards the target of their intention.

"You could have at least spared me the heartbreak before the wedding."

Without consideration, Kendall placed the half-eaten muffin back onto the tray of another House Elf. The Banana Walnut didn't sit well with him after awhile. Without hesitation, he waved for the next House Elf, who hastily brought him a toast, before stopping to spread the butter on it for him. Nodding, Kendall gladly lifted the toast off from him, before chomping his first bite off quickly. He was a hungry man. Yet, he was a fussy one too.

"I thought I'll have the pleasure of my wife's company sometimes." He announced, but not loud enough for who's beyond Athena's reach.

The Goyle boys had never been fond of the idea of getting along. Ever quiet and aloof, content with controlling his puppet of his wife, Diomedes was the one least likely to get into an argument lest anyone challenge his belongings – his wife, of course, being one of them. That was one of the main reasons why Cian limped the way he did. The ‘look but don’t touch’ rule did not sit well with Diomedes. To look was to sin and it was in a fit of rare rage that the younger of the two men threw a curse at his brother, leaving the man permanently wounded and Diomedes would never let Cian forget why it happened. It was something Corianna couldn’t quite let him forget, either – not that she mentioned it of course. Usually Gregory kept the peace but in his absence it was up to Ophion who in the past made a point to try and avoid the conflicts. Of course now, in the wake of the death of his elder brother, he not only had to take on the role of pseudo peace keeper but also that of a second father to his niece. He knew she did not need one but to have someone to go to, Ophion felt, was important.

Collapsing beside his wife on the settee, Cian tossed an arm over the back and rubbed his fingers over Corianna’s shoulder, meeting the glaring gaze of his brother who had moved his glassy-eyed stare from his wife momentarily to his brother who knew the look well. Cian knew not to trespass on property that wasn’t owned by him. He bore scars he would rather forget. The man did not say a word. Instead he merely shifted a little in his seat and tugged Corianna closer to him, a silent message to his brother that he was no threat to the equilibrium of his household.

Rolling his eyes, Ophion led his girls over to the settee that Diomedes was sat alone on and he pressed his wife down next to his brother, ignoring the sharp look she shot him that told Ophion that she really, really did not want to sit with Di. Athena he kept on his arm though he could see from the reddening of her cheeks that she could not bear to stand much longer. Phi reached into the crook of his arm and squeezed his niece’s fingers gently, reassuringly, and she passed a weary expression in his direction, her face communicating the feelings he felt: utter exhaustion.

In the end, Ophion realised it was impractical for him to force Athena to stand and helped her into a particularly soft-looking arm chair, Macaria rising to take some pillows so the girl could support her back. Athena only reddened further with their attentiveness and she pushed away at Ophion’s helpful hand, crossing her arms over her stomach as she lowered her arms to the feet she only wished she could see. With a smile, Ophion pulled away, deciding to leave him niece alone, and took his wife into his arms, settling down with her on the settee, putting himself between Macaria and his brother, feeling that it would be better that way, knowing that their past relationship was hardly amicable.

When the doors opened, the Goyle men rose from their seats – bar of course, Odysseus, who was sat in the arm chair next to Athena’s explaining to her why the detailing on the cushions were they way they were. Macaria smirked a little from her seat, observing the way her niece appeared to be utterly bored, and felt for Ira’s hand, squeezing his palm with her own smaller appendage before looking at the boy who was, unfortunately, as white as a ghost. Ira looked at Macaria gratefully before glancing over hesitantly at Cian who merely glared back in response.

Then, as if in reflex, the four men began to socialise smoothly, the women performing similar duties with grace their husbands and relatives could only hope to imitate. Athena remained seated. She wasn’t being awkward. She just genuinely felt as though she couldn’t get back up again even if she truly wanted to. Odysseus remained by her side, determined to be a better source of comfort than any other of her useless family members. He was however, crass enough to offer her a swig of what he was drinking. Athena merely stared at her grandfather in response, her hands coming to her stomach as if to say: “are you mad?”

Athena perked up a little bit when she saw Kendall enter the room but couldn’t help but deflate a little at the way he appeared not to really care. He was hurt, she realised, about her not coming to him when called. Athena could not claim it to be a conscious effort not to go. She’d fallen asleep in the late-autumn sunshine that afternoon while reading one of the many books that the library housed within the cottage and she’d stayed there until dinner when she was roused by the butler, fed cheeses, breads and a small glass of wine before being sent off to bed. By that time she’d long forgotten about Kendall’s letter. Pursing her lips, Athena lowered her gaze back her tummy, blaming her sons entirely for their difficult father, though pitying them because their difficult father had to be Kendall Rookwood. Brushing her hand absent-mindedly across it, the girl looked around the room.

Straightening up, Athena turned her gaze coolly on Kendall. She quirked an eyebrow at him, daring him to say anything further, and replied simply with: “Clearly yesterday wasn’t one of the times.” Athena smirked openly at Kendall. “Why? Miss me, did you?” She mocked, then slapped herself mentally for sounding like her accursed other half.

Kendall and Athena's wedding day had crept up on Mira, pouncing on her when she wasn't nearly mentally prepared. Everything about their relationship seemed to come as a shock to Mira. From the first time they had slept together to their first 'date' to Athena's pregnancy to an actual marriage, Mira had responded to her friends news with a blunt "Wait.. what?" Her two best friends being together had never settled well with her until very recently. Despite being one of the most dysfunctional couples she had ever met, no one could deny that they worked together. No one else in this would would have enough crazy to be able to put up with either one of them.

After some selfish pouting on her part about not being in the wedding party, Mira had become immensely excited about the prospect of the event that was approaching. She had gone shopping last week, purchasing several more dresses that one would deem necessary for one wedding that you were not even taking part in. But while in London Mira had also seized the opportunity to stop in St. Mungo's and visit Helene. A suspicion had been nagging at her for a couple weeks now but with Athena and the twins the odds had just seemed so unlikely and she had stalled the inevitable. But an owl from Helene had arrived this morning and now the letter it had carried was tucked in the underwear drawer of her bedroom at Krum manor.

Mira examined her body in the full length mirror. She looked like, well, Mira. All of her curves (no matter now small in some places) were familiar to look at. She sucked in her belly and her ribs became visible from under her snow white skin. Mira released the breath and let her stomach fall back to where it normally sat. It was incredible flat as a result of many years of dieting and exercise while in Hogwarts. She turned so she was at an angle that showed how truly thin her body was. Mira tried to imagine what she would look like with Athena's robust belly.. A belly that would be hers before long. She rubbed her hand across her bare stomach and her imagination failed her. She had been this Mira for so long it was nearly impossible to guess how she would look in six months. Besides terrible.

Mira closed her eyes in frustration, her eyebrows crinkling as if she had a bad headache. Today was for Athena and Mira hated to have this take up any of her attention away from the bride she was supposed to serve. The whole situation was a problem that she would deal with later. Besides, she wanted to talk to Helene in person before breaking any news to Elijah. So composing herself, Mira slid into the blue dress, jacket, and a pair of shoes that she had assembled for the day. Her heels, wand, and various other beautifying products would be stored in her purse so she could be ready for any emergencies that she might have. When she had woken, Elijah had already been out of bed and since she had not seen him since.

"Lady Prim is awake, Miss." a squeaky voice appeared behind her. Mira nodded her understanding and the house elf waddled out of the room, making his rounds between the children's rooms. Mira grabbed her purse and threw it over her shoulder, moving down the hallway towards the room that now occupied Prim Potter, the daughter of a whore and an asshole. Mira wasn't really sure how Elijah had come to be in possession of the young girl, especially when Mira knew that her mother was not only alive but quite healthy. But upon seeing Elijah's insistence of keeping the girl under his care Mira had chosen not to ask questions. Over the time that Prim had been residing at the home Mira had grown more and more attached to her, caring for her much like she did Theirry, Faeve, and the twins.

Mira looked down into Prim's crib and saw that the little girl was indeed awake. Her face scrunched up with frustration as she realized she now had company and no one was listening to her yet. Mira picked Prim up, lifting her up into the air in a soaring arc and earning a gurgling laugh from the fussy toddler.

- - - - -

With a pop Mira apperated in front of Rookwood manor. The kids that were too young to attend the event had a day planned with those remaining back at the house. The Rookwood's was bustling with activity, people moving in and out of the ornately shaped shrubbery and gardens. The path to the house was second nature to Mira, having spent nearly as much time here, at the Goyles, and at the Krums, as she had in her own house. It was much too early for guests but Mira was let in almost immediately and she made her way up the stairs. The closer she got to her destination the louder the rumbling sound of the Goyle family became. By the time she was outside of Kendall's door, Mira was sure that this wedding was going to be very.. fun.

OOC: Outfit. Also I didn't really know what to do with her. So I can edit it/wait for Eli/anything you guys want. Heh. WEDDINGS.

The Davoska Manor was hidden away in the Swiss mountains, isolated by a thick perimeter of trees and enveloped in hundreds of wards to prevent the penetration of the estate by unwelcome visitors. The manor was less of a stately home and more of a fortress. With looming towers that seemed to stretch up to the skyline and a moat that housed all manner of different creatures with a taste for human flesh, one felt as though they were being transported into a time long forgotten by the technology addled minds that existed in the era that the inhabitants of such a magnificent structure did well to try and avoid.

The seclusion was an aspect that Elijah Krum truly loved and despite apparating to the outpost, he still rumbled into the courtyard inside a horse drawn carriage that was certainly more rickety than he ever remembered it being as a child; and from the windows he watched with his sons on his lap as people hurried around taking stock of what they had and what they didn’t have with some accepting orders, others exporting what looked like barrels of wine that were being rolled up the ramp from the cellar. Elijah had forgotten what a hive of activity the castle was and found himself smiling both for his memories and in the way the boys would gurgle happily before occasionally throwing an arm out and yelling out the name of the object they were pointing to.

Eventually they made it to the colossal double doors made of thick mahogany that he’d once tried to measure though could not linger long enough to really try. Elijah was helped out of the carriage by one of the attending maids and he smiled brightly at the woman before lifting the twins out of the warmth of the carriage and into the brisk chill of the courtyard. Soon enough, though, they were well within the warmth of the castle and Elijah found himself being show by the same maid to a parlour that he did not ever remember being in as a child. He set the boys down on a rug that looked to be about as old as time itself and waved his wand, transfiguring a few of the pillows dotted around into a selection of toys for the twins to amuse themselves with while he waited for his aunt.

Rada Krum was a formidable woman. She married young but saw the death of her husband not long after their union. She lost him in one of the bombing raids that happened upon London during the second great Muggle war. It was that that took her out of Britain and into the safety of the neutral Swiss mountains. It was in the walls of the castle that she safely brought up her only son and oversaw his marriage. She had also had a hand in the upbringing of his own children and slowly began to be known as the grandmother for all of the Krums, regardless of their relation to her. For Elijah, she was the mischief that his deathly boring childhood needed and he cherished the time he’d spent at the castle. Fauve and Thierry had their own memories and he’d even brought Prim a handful of times though she was not his to take with him. Yet she too seemed to love it there, as they all did, and so it only seemed right that he brought Cepheus and Caelum with him that morning.

Upon entering she shocked Elijah with the age she seemed to display. She looked weary of the world and with nearly one hundred years behind her; Elijah could more than understand why that would be. Yet upon setting her gaze on the boys, her face brightened and she seemed to lose her age. She looked every bit, for a moment, the youthful young widow that had taken in so many children, raised them as the Krums and sent them out into the world as strong individuals. Elijah only wished that he could have had more of her influence. She sat herself down immediately in one of the arm chairs that were near the rug and engaged the boys in mindless chatter that Elijah was content just to watch as he nursed a cup of tea that one of the service staff had been keen to bring to him. It was only once she’d lifted Caelum onto her lap to give the boy a kiss and a cuddle that she turned her attention to Elijah.

“They’re beautiful.” She determined with easy grace. “Now I heard no announcement of marriage so am I right in presuming that these boys have been acquired through the legal system?” Upon his nod of affirmation, Rada looked down at the boy in her arms. “Well. I believe you’ve given them a gift that some can only dream of, my boy. You never struck me the same after you put yourself in exile. The events of last December were not tasteful on anyone’s palate and I have certainly not seen you since. You have had few run-ins with his boys, I hope?”

“I have seen Georgio.” Elijah admitted. “We have crossed each other’s path in the Ministry a few times but nothing more than that. I think he tries to avoid me as much as I do him. He is not as bitter as his youngest, though. Lorelei has been writing to me. She saw no reason why our correspondence should stop. We are still family yet I believe she bears quite the grudge. Who am I to judge her for it, though?” Elijah shrugged his shoulders and put his teacup down on one of the tables. He then sank to the floor and began idly indulge Cepheus, helping the boy to build a make-shift wall out of the blocks that Elijah had conjured. “As it is, I’m due at the Rookwoods’ soon; for wedding preparations.”

“Watch yourself amongst them, Elijah. I expect you are right about the youngest. Stefan always had a lot of time for that boy when he was small precisely because his own father neglected him in favour of Viktor. I expect the elder ones are a lot more accommodating because they understand Stefan a lot better than young Alaric does. They knew his better side, and his worse. Alaric only knows the former. Remember that, should you come into contact with him at any point. I have not had much to do with the boy myself since he was a babe in arms but if he is anything like his father then trouble is afoot for you, my darling. He does not even have to be alike Stefan outwardly. It’s in him. That is your danger. As it is, he is only a boy still. He is no threat to you until he gets a mind to be one. Hopefully all can be resolved.” Rada smiled, the grave look on her face suddenly disappearing. “I have received an invitation myself. I remember Raghnall Rookwood as a boy, I’ll have you know! He was a little rascal. I assume he’s nothing like that now though. Always had a soft spot for Penelope Finch. Now she was a piece of work. Married into the Goyle family I believe. Hm. How time flies.”

Elijah left his sons with Rada, trusting without fault that she could attend to them until dinner time when he would come back and fetch them. The pair were blighted by the same problems that Thierry and Fauve went through and what Prim was currently dealing with: saying goodbye. They hated it and screamed and cried until they could no longer see Elijah’s carriage; and though it pained him to see them in that state of upset, he had promised them he’d be back and though that had done little to pacify them, he knew in an hour or two they’d be bumbling around the castle with wild looks in their eyes, exploring every nook and cranny they could while Rada and her ladies maids followed dutifully behind to ensure they did not hurt themselves.

The young man made a quick trip home and changed into a pair of dark jeans and slipped on a non-descript t-shirt before donning his coal-coloured trench coat, tugging on his gloves and going in search for his children who he made sure were as wrapped up as they could ever be before checking on Stelladora to make sure she was alright minding Prim. She was, he noticed, glad that he’d taken the twins elsewhere. She was tired, world-weary, herself and one child was more than enough to look after. Yet, Elijah had a feeling she was bluffing, waiting until he married Mira and started having even more children. He was sure that she would then once again come into her own. It was all a bit sporadic so far but slowly a routine was forming and they were all starting to relax.

Elijah apparated onto the grounds of Rookwood Manor with his children either side of him. They seemed to realise where they were immediately and took off without much of a thought spared to their father who merely trudged up the path behind them. Elijah could not exactly be sure whether they had been to the Manor a lot or whether it was simply the arrogance that came with being a Krum. Or perhaps it was just because the wide open space appealed to children and was just a huge invitation to run. Whatever it was, Elijah was just glad they were dashing in the direction of the house and followed up behind them as they reached the doors that were opened by a sprightly looking House Elf that was as pleased to see them as they were him.

“Good Morning, Master Krum! Little Master and Miss Krum have already done inside!” The elf told Elijah dutifully as he reached the door. “Missy is showing them the way to the stateroom.” Elijah nodded and reached down to pat the elf on the head before passing through the doors and into the house. The elf was quick to take is coat and other items of clothing. Another was picking up a pair of gloves that he’d dropped while trying to cope with Thierry and Fauve’s outerwear and Elijah took a moment to reach down and pick them up for the elf before making his way to the stateroom, finding that as he got closer, the sound grew louder.

Elijah found that his children had already gone inside and made a bee-line for Athena. Smiling, Elijah came up behind Mira and looped an arm loosely around Mira’s waist. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and smiled fondly at the woman that he had come to really rely on for companionship.

“You look beautiful.” He whispered in her ear. “I’ve had quite the eventful morning. How’s yours been?”

The children were getting up to much more mischief, of course. Naturally. Fauve gravitated immediately towards Kendall. Not because he liked her but because she knew he did not enjoy being in the company of children. She bounced towards him with a dopey smile on her face and threw herself in his direction, looping her arms around his neck and plopping herself on his leg, promptly making him her makeshift chair. She kissed him on the cheek, not forgetting the: “mmmmmmmmmmm-whaaaa!” It was only afterwards that she caught sight of the toast in his hand and she bobbed a little before making for the toast, grabbing his hand to keep it still and then moving so she could take a bite. Her cheeks full of toast, Fauve sat back again and smiled as best she could at Kendall while trying to chew the food in her mouth and stifle her giggles at the same time.

It was, perhaps, somewhere between his last chew and her first word, that Kendall stopped, blinked, and stared at Athena's bulge. How could she have gotten even bigger than the last time he saw her? As he began to chew normally again, Kendall began to consider his thoughts about the matter. Sure, they were his pride and supposed joy, too. He supposed he would find joy in them. After all, his own father certainly seemed to enjoy fatherhood. If the little imps turned out like their father, then Kendall was sure that there would be something to look forward to there. Nothing else spells legacy like that. Now, though, he was impatient. Sure, Athena had never been his to call and dismiss, nor did she always indulged him with her presence whenever he wanted it. Yet, he blamed it on the babies. It wasn't that he didn't want them. He just wasn't big enough to sacrifice what little attention she could offer him for them.

He tried to tear his thoughts from the matter. After all, it wasn't healthy, whether it was because the wedding was looming, or that he couldn't deal with how he had changed. At first, he scowled at Athena. And then, he smirked, recognising the teasing in her voice. "What's a woman to do without her man?" And as he continued to smirk, Kendall braced for the counter-attack, gladly expecting it. It was the fight in her he was always looking for. So unlike his mother, even if he loved her deeply, too. He could feel her eyes on him. He was accustomed to it by now. Cordelia Rookwood lived for the life of her son. After all, he was her true legitimacy as a Rookwood woman, what with being the only male heir of Augustus Rookwood. Still, she continued to rub her belly, wishing for a brother for Kendall, one who would take the burden off them all.

---

Without warning, Kendall felt a weight near his knees. Before he could react, a kiss was planted at his cheek. It was as if the universe had to shove children into his face to compel him to love them. Or, at least, to prepare him for fatherhood. And with that word, he felt a shiver run down his spine. Cold feet? He had no choice now. Kendall stared at his bitten toast, one of which hardly appealed to him anymore. Yet, he forced a smile to the perpetrator of the crime.

"Hello, Fauve." Then, he threw a look of plea at Athena, who was busy with Thierry. With confusion about where the boy came from in such a stealthy fashion, Kendall merely watched the scene, more put out by having the woman's attention directed elsewhere yet again. He barely paid attention to the arrival of his friends, what with the boyish tantrum he seemed adamant to maintain.