After Afterall

Spoiler:

Right, left, right, left, up, breathe, down.

Right, left, right, left, up, breathe -

The tips of his fingers brushed against the cold tile. With that, Kendall translated his last shove to the first gasp of easy air, calling the end of fifty laps of swim. Shaking the water out of his hair, he stopped to give his heart a rest. Sinking his shoulders back into the water, Kendall began to ease himself as his felt his muscles start to relax, following the rhythms of his heavy breaths. Slowly, he opened his eyes again, but pushed his feet up as he began to drift almost motionlessly with his chest open to the cooler air above the surface of the heated pool. With a consistent attempt at replacing the air that he felt he very much needed in his lungs right now, Kendall enjoyed the blackness behind his lids, listening instead to the gentle flow of water. Mostly, though, the pool was almost silent.

It was the night before the day. Who would have thought? Admittedly, it was always going to come. After all, he was the sole heir of Augustus Rookwood. He was not going to enjoy the luxury of bachelorhood. Kendall was sure that, if he had his way, that might have been a luxury. Yet, he was never going to watch Athena Goyle marry another man. Any other man was beneath him. Besides, he enjoyed the pride of imposing his name onto hers. Athena Rookwood. Without hesitation, Kendall smirked with amusement and beamed with pride. And then there was, as sure as the routine of time and the coming of dawn, that press in his heart. It was the one that meant so much more than possession and pride. Turning his head slightly, he sneaked a peek at Athena, both toying with the idea of aiming a splash of water at her, and bemused at his excitement of the wedding tomorrow.

schwimminggggg!

It would have been wrong to say that she was nervous. Pureblood girls simply don’t get nervous about their weddings. After all, it was what they were born to do; get married, that is. She was born to marry. She was born to reproduce. She was born to ever serve her husband and to never complain about her duties. It was hardly the life she had wanted for herself. Nothing that had happened to her had been planned. Her very birth had been unplanned. She had been unwanted. The children that she carried within her had been unplanned but not wholly unwanted by her or Kendall. She had not expected to react quite the way she had done to Apolline. She had not expected Azkaban. She had not expected Zoe assisting her, or Elijah assisting her, or Kendall even wanting her. None of it had been expected but none of it had been unwanted and she certainly was grateful for the way her life had turned out but she felt as though it had only happened because of this, because of that – and this and that were most definitely her children.

Of course it was not that Athena did not love Kendall. She did. Granted though, it was not something she was entirely sure of. She felt affection for Kendall, understandably, but she wasn’t as acutely aware of that affection as perhaps she should have been. She wasn’t exactly in love with him but she wasn’t out of love either. She just was. Now, don’t expect her to explain any of that. It was confusing enough to have to grapple with, let alone explain and Athena herself had been tied up in knots about it for days. She did not know whether it was out of love that this was happening to her, out of duty or because it was a most favourable outcome for all of them.

Raghnall needed more heirs. Augustus needed to live vicariously through his son’s accomplishments so as to feel like more a man in comparison to his brothers. Kendall... well, Kendall just wanted to gloat. They all did, really. It was quite simple.

But what of her? What of her family. That was even more easily explained.

Her grandmother wanted her dealt with. Safe. Clean. Housed. That sort of thing. Her grandfather didn’t actually want her to go but figured that his presence in her life didn’t really give him a seat in which to complain. Her Uncles were plotting one way or another. Cian wanted her dowry. He wanted his brother’s money, what was left behind. He wanted Gregory’s wealth and the wealth that Apolline had gathered. But more importantly, he wanted what Cassandra Holloway had left her only child. Diomedes was far more straight forward. He would have rather had Athena dead too so that he could divvy it up. He didn’t want all of it. He just wanted enough of it to keep his family going. Ophion appeared to be the only one that had her best interests at heart but there was something behind him too that set Athena on edge. He pretended to be interested which was more than the others did which made him the most suspicious of all. Ira was the last and only true one that cared, it seemed. But even he, struck down by the desire to bring the family back into prominence, had assessed her worth. He was no longer a friend to her.

Perhaps that was why Athena had spent more energy in trying to avoid her relatives than usual. She had even gone as far as to sit with Augustus’ mistress in the garden one particularly sunny afternoon under a pagoda where she helped the girl grasp her English a bit better while trying to ascertain exactly which part of Greece she had been from. It was during those hours that Athena had learnt quite a bit about Augustus’ play-thing and she felt an odd kinship with the other woman. They were both a long way away from home. They were both surrounded by people that could exploit them and they both knew nothing of how to get out of it, they merely had to trust that someone would help them. They also had a desire to have children – though Maia’s reality was far further away than Athena’s was.

The evening of the day before was spent picking at dinner, her appetite having wasted away, dropped off in the space of a day. Her family had had no desire to stay. Clearly they were trying to break her into the loneliness of being a Rookwood. It was after that that she had decided to go for a walk, somehow ending up in the room which housed the pool. The humidity of the room soon eased the cold from her bones and it was there that she found Kendall and she found herself utterly content to break the rule about not seeing the groom until the day of the wedding. The night before was usually off limits, apparently. But then again – when were they ever subject to norms?

At some point Kendall had noticed her sitting on one of the deck chairs with a book in her lap; her hands idle on her stomach and her eyes not really paying much attention to the narrative on the page. She smiled a little as his laps came to a close, glad of the ceasing sound as it had grown grating on her patience. She couldn’t take much more silence otherwise she’d start talking to her House Elves – well, more than usual that is.

“Tired?” She called out to him with a smirk. “What are you doing? Making sure you’ll fit in your robes in the morning or what?” Athena’s hand rubbed over her stomach absent-mindedly as she spoke and her fingers tickled a little at where she knew Auggie’s foot to be resting: right at her rib. The boy nudged her in response, clearly far too short of room to really kick, and then fell silent again – as if he were sleeping. Athena honestly wished she could join the pair. She didn’t know whether it was from stress or from just being pregnant but she was tired; truly, honestly tired.

Dress!

Darn! He was too late. There was no way of sneaking a splash now that she had called out to him. With a sheepish smile, Kendall began to make his way to Athena.

"I'm not fussed about getting into my robes tomorrow, love. I'm eager to get out of them with you, instead." Taking his time, his torso pushed pass the strength of the water before finally touching the cold tiles that led to Athena. Even so, the smile that had turned into a smirk still remained, as he eyed the woman with mischief in his eyes.

Fortunately, for her, the sound of footsteps disturbed the moment. From the corner of his eyes, Kendall observed the uncertain approach of a House Elf. Of course, it was time for his regular drink of wine, a reward for his labour of laps. Kendall turned his head and nodded, before returning his attention back to the woman at hand. With that, Duffy walked swiftly to the table nearest to Athena, offered a bow, then produced a glass to accompany Kendall's.

By the time Kendall found himself settled in the lounge-chair next to Athena's, Duffy was well out of sight, and the two glasses now contained the former's favourite brand of Merlot. Eagerly, Kendall lifted his glass, gave it a little twirl, and lifted it further to meet Athena's glass ... which was untouched, and standing on its own. It was only then that he remembered. Amused, he lowered the glass and inched closer towards Athena.

"Just a glass, beautiful. It'd barely ruin you ... Miss Goyle." Without a pause, Kendall leaned over to plant a swift kiss on the woman's cheek. Perhaps it was the time of the night, perhaps it was the days he had gone without her; or could it actually be the prompt that he found in her face, in her eyes? There was a certain nostalgia that he might share with her, too. Six years in Hogwarts - six years of an address that would soon supposedly turn in his favour. No doubt, he was proud to make her a Rookwood. Yet, the years of teasing her with a name that rolled tastefully on his tongue coloured the years before now.

He looked at Athena intently.

Athena had not been the biggest fan of red wine since falling pregnant. The thought of it, let alone drinking it, had left her quite queasy and though she had never been a fan of Merlot – especially not Merlot – she found herself eying the bottle sitting so innocently on the table beside her chair. She pushed the book off of her lap and set it down on the chair, careful to mark her page before allowing it to curl shut. She took the glass off of the table, curling her fingers hesitantly around it, and brought it down to sit it between her legs which she’d unfurled at some point after feeling the prick of pins and needles under her skin. She still sat straight though, despite her discomfort. She could not condone a blatant display of bad poster; even if she was pregnant.

The girl peered down at the glass, just barely able to see it over the arc of her bump that protruded from her stomach without preamble, without holding back. She swallowed back a recoil of disgust and decided against entertaining the glass, moving instead to put it back. She did not know why she had taken it. She knew she could not and would not drink it. She liked very much the healthy lifestyle she had been conducting and though Kendall would rebuke it, just to be awkward, she had tried her hardest to be healthy for the boys. She ate nothing too sweet, to sour, too salty, too spicy. She kept it all to a minimum and ate a little of everything that was offered to her. She could never recall a time that she had eaten so much fruit; and such a great variety of it too.

Setting the glass back down on the table, Athena turned her attention back to Kendall just in time to feel his lips on her cheek. But the feeling was gone as soon as it arrived and Athena was left only to look at him with a quizzical expression. Her fingers found her cheek and she lowered her gaze to the chair, or rather, to her stomach, and refused, despite her better judgement, to meet his gaze which she felt boring into her, assaulting every inch of her in an attempt to get in.

He’d called her Miss Goyle. It hadn’t been a title she’d considered in a long time. She’d not really thought of herself as Athena Goyle – not in a long time. She was more of a Krum than she was a Goyle. The Krums were more of a family to her. She was more of an Anderson than she was a Goyle. Mira’s mother was far more understanding than her own grandmother was. Yet she could not call herself a Rookwood. The backstabbing and calculations, the need to get a leg up on one another, left her weary and impatient. She shared more in terms of kin with Augustus’ whore than she did with the rest of the befuddling family. In all of this, she’d forgotten something important: she was a Goyle woman. A Holloway woman. She was her father’s daughter, the apple of his eye; the daughter her mother never knew.

A sigh escaped Athena’s lips but she took no notice of it, made no move to cover the sound, as if she had not realised that it was there, that she had released it and let it hang in the air the way she had done. Her hands found her stomach, a gesture she often executed now; call it a nervous tick, if you like. Her fingers found the knocking hand of her son and she pressed gently into the touch, into the tiny knuckles of the banging, inquiring boy. Archibald did not like silence. He liked the thrumming base of music or the lilt of his mother’s crooning voice to him. He liked, much to Athena’s eternal despair, his father’s jabbering, his grandfather’s equally irritating brogue and his great-grandfather’s displeasure – he loved that one the most out of all of the sounds he adored.

“I don’t really have the taste for wine anymore,” Athena spoke finally.

Her azure gaze found Kendall’s darker sienna stare. She found herself wondering which one would look upon the world like she did, behind a veil of wide, critical skylight. She could not decide for either of them. She supposed they would drink in their surroundings with eyes the colour of their father’s. She felt as though they would be their father’s sons, with eyes alight with the mischief that he wore, bright with the knowledge that the world was theirs for the taking. Yet she wondered whose resolve they would have, whose fighting spirit they would embody. Which one would be argumentative? Which one would be endlessly irritating?

All of these thoughts. They made her dizzy with excitement, dizzy with the thought of their future.

“Come here,” Athena’s voice was quiet, retiring almost; certainly not like her usual tone. She gestured with her hand briefly before returning it to her stomach, careful not to lose the thrumming fist of their son. “Talk to them. They are not nearly as fond of the quiet as I am. Though I admit, it has begun to grate on me too. I understand where they’re coming from. Ah – here.”

Athena’s hand moved across her stomach, nearer to her pelvic bone, and took Kendall’s hand, pressing it carefully against her stomach. She applied the tiniest bit of pressure to his fingers, pressure that in turn was placed on her stomach so he could feel the poking, prodding foot of their son. Athena looked up at Kendall and a small smile tugged at her lips.

“And here.”

She took his other hand in hers, bringing it to the opposing side of her stomach where she found the fist that she had lost as she had spoken to her husband-to-be. The tap of fingers, the little knock that said: ‘Mumma, Papa... I’m here!’ Athena’s smile broadened a little and she drummed her fingers gently across the surface, an example to Kendall, before letting his hand cover the area, to feel the vibrations in reply.

“They’re... quite friendly.”

Kendall wasn't sure how he felt about the boys. He had wore their existence like a badge of honour. He had wore it proudly for his father, wore it proudly to his grandfather, and beamed in its light among the rest of the Rookwoods. That was what they were. He had never thought of himself as a father, even if he knew it was always going to catch up to him like how it caught up to his own father. Yet, Augustus took to the depths of fatherhood like a duck to water. He barely had time to learn how to be a father. It was only when the Healer handed baby Kendall over to the man, that he knew just how. History has always favoured repeating itself, but there is never a guarantee in the world, especially not with something as seemingly apart as Kendall and fatherhood. But, who knows?

Secretly, the boys meant a lot more to Kendall. While he remained unsure about his relationship with them, it was the security of having Athena that brought the clueless young father to his unborn sons. Whatever they were going to be to him in the future, he had to thank them for the resolution they seem to bring to his desire for this woman. Kendall watched her in an undisturbed moment of maternal tenderness, feeling a certain numbness creep over him in his anxiety, now that he was actually asked to intrude that bubble. He certainly had the right to, but he moved towards the space feeling like a lost child himself. Kendall wanted very much for Athena, for all of her. He was jealous for her, even for just a moment of tenderness in her eyes directed to him. And while he had envied the boys as she, once again, lavished them with her concern, he could not keep from the rush of feeling at the fact that this was something that he was going to share with Athena. Sure, there were good memories together, especially with their schemes back in the days of being exemplary Slytherins. Yet, this was the first fruit of love that counted. Kendall inched towards it.

In shock, Kendall retracted his hand as quickly as he laid it against Athena's stomach. The first sign of life, the first touch of that life to him, was a shock of reality that pulled him into the truth of the matter. The babies were real. They were not just the badge he had been wearing, and the things he had been toying with in his mind and with his lips. Shooting a look at Athena that balanced between uncertainty and a plea, Kendall brought his hand towards the last spot of life again. The spark had eased up now. It wasn't the first sudden static that unsettled, yet drew, father and son. Whoever it was that reacted to him from Athena's womb, Kendall knew it was a touch of the future. With more confidence, he applied a slight pressure to the limb that he thought he had felt.

With a weak smile, once again, he directed both questions and demands from Athena. It was odd how he could have that many thoughts running through his head, yet not be able to express any to the woman. With another inch closer, Kendall brought his head so close to Athena's belly, that he laid his cheek lightly against the skin that invited him to her with its smell, and that protected the fruit of their union, and the promise of a legacy, if he was to have any. Yet, even as he tried his hand at bridging the distance between himself and his sons, Kendall looked at Athena, not being able to tear himself away from the effect that her eyes were having on him.

"I love you."

It slipped out, a rare incantation of an unplanned manifestation.

The magic that her sons boasted still caught her unaware much of the time. She had the habit of forgetting what they did to her magic and many of her spells had ended up with her in tears and something on fire for an on hand House Elf to put out. They were strong, much stronger than she herself had been as a child or any of her cousins had been. Pureblood inbreeding had always had knock-on effects on their offspring but it seemed as though the pair within her thrived on all that was wrong and all that was right with their genes, mixing and muddling everything until they became as powerful as they could muster. They were forces to be reckoned with indeed; they were much like their mother in that respect.

Athena’s lips twitched upwards at Kendall’s hesitance. She was not glad of his shyness, merely amused. Instead of calling him out on it she simply remained silent, watching him with his large, blue eyes as he tried to find his footing with his sons who, up until now, had been something of a mystery to him, she was sure. They were no secret wonder to her; instead they were the most grating creatures on the planet next to their father. Yet Kendall was calm, perhaps because of his apparent fear of them. She did open her mouth to promise him she wasn’t porcelain – she wasn’t completely breakable. But instead Athena kept her mouth shut and merely watched, content with having him close to her again.

She felt safer – not that she was going to readily admit it to him, of course.

Her long fingers found Kendall’s hair and slowly, Athena began to rake her fingers through his dark locks. A small smile appeared on her lips but it fell as he moved, unable to escape the twinge of disappointment. But the disappointment was replaced by the plummet of her stomach and the ache of her heart as the most painfully truthful words she’d ever heard from him, jumped into the air. Athena could only stare at him. Her smile returned after a moment and she brought her hand through the front of his hair, scratching her nails against his scalp before letting her hand fall down to his cheek.

Leaning down as best she could, Athena pressed a hesitant kiss to Kendall’s cheek. She brushed her nose across his cheekbone and kissed him again before sitting back to look at him. It was not that she did not feel the same – though with the mixture of hormones and emotions she could not be sure – she just couldn’t bring herself to say it. She felt wanted, finally. Wanted for herself rather than her sons, their sons. She brought her hands back to his cheeks and brushed her thumbs over his cheekbones before leaning down properly and leaving a kiss on his lips. She couldn’t say anything. To say something now would ruin the spell – so she said nothing, merely remained quiet with a grateful, genuine smile on her face.