The Artist's Apprentice

The sunshine burst through the glass panelled roof at just the right angle and it illuminated the fruit bowl that Elijah had set upon the table in the middle of the room, giving it an ethereal quality and a light about it that he never could have achieved in his studio at home. But in a way so typical of the English weather, the sunshine passed and premature darkness fell over the Rookwood estate. Pursing his lips, Elijah ran his fingers through the front of his hair and made his way around the table to the French doors which he’d opened up to let in the spring breeze. He pulled the doors to just as the rain began to fall and he sighed, the turn of events not being quite what he had wanted for the morning session that he had arranged with the shy sister of his best friend. He was to teach her how to paint with an artist’s eye and Elijah, ever eager to get out of the Ministry, had quickly agreed.

That morning he had left Stelladora in charge of the children and had packed up as much of his supplies that he deemed necessary to take with him to the Rookwood home. He had also seen fit to buy Katarina a few things that he thought would come in useful and he arrived at the Rookwood manor with a spring in his step. What he did not expect was the solemnity he was greeted with and it dawned on him then just how long it had been since he had visited his friends. Athena had hugged him no less tightly than usual but her demeanour was that of a woman who needed desperately the quiet of a mid-morning nap. Elijah had made to express his concern for the woman but the calls of two girls from the doorway that Elijah could only assume to be Kendall’s sisters, whisked Athena away.

Augustus was not home, a House Elf explained to Elijah as he led him downstairs and into a disused conservatory in the Augustinian part of the manor. The master had gone abroad on business and his son had been broody and quiet since the death of his mother which left Athena Rookwood in charge. The House Elf was audacious enough to express concern and worry that the woman could not deal with the household, not being a true Rookwood woman and a bastard Goyle at that, and Elijah reproached the creature for its tongue, in anger even going as far as to strike the animal across the face. Yet as soon as he had done it, he regretted it and the Elf had scuttled away without another word, leaving Elijah to get on with his business in the conservatory.

Elijah had transfigured many of the aging sofas into easels and surfaces upon which Katarina could scatter sketching paper and other such nonsensical items pertaining to her art. He had managed to transfigure an old plant pot into a stand that would hold her pottery wheel and continued to mince around until much of the furniture was pressed up against the sides of the conservatory save the one round table in the middle and an easel which faced it. Elijah had left one of the couches alone but had decided to do it up a little bit. He made it softer and more welcoming to lie upon and also added a number of pillows. He then set about filling the dresser made up completely of drawers with the things he had brought with him. Paints filled one drawer, pencils another, pastels in another one and the list went on until all Elijah could do, utterly exhausted, was collapse upon the sofa.

With the French doors shut and the room darkened, Elijah was not keen to continue on with what he had had planned and plucked an apple from the bowl, wholly dismayed by the fact that he would have to think of something else. He took a bite and the sweet fruit burst upon his tongue; the juices escaped his lips and ran down his chin. Elijah caught the trails with his spare hand and took the fruit away from his mouth. He smiled absent-mindedly and licked his lips before looking up at the sound of another House Elf clearing its throat. Elijah sent the apple away with a flick of his fingers and he wiped his mouth with his hand as he released that Katarina was stood on the threshold of the room he had done over.

“I apologise,” he spoke, startled somewhat by her quiet entrance. “I didn’t hear you. Come in. I trust everything is still alright for today?”

Ever since that night a black cloud had hung over Katarina's head. The affection that the young Rookwood girl had for her mother had been greatly underestimated until she passed, bringing forth feelings of love and longing that she couldn't remember ever having when Cordelia was alive. She was so young and the shock of her having passed away hit her hourly. Katarina would be doing something simple, like peeling an orange, making her bed, or find herself humming a tune and memories would attack her out of nowhere. She cried more than usual, and had become emotional and angry with several near strangers. But what made her more distraught than anything was the lack of response of the rest of the family. Her father had disappeared on a business trip so soon after.. How he could bear this sorrow alone was beyond her. Kendall tried to help keep her spirits up with an attempt to act normal but anyone could see how much he was hurting. But in a sick way this comforted her.. That she was not alone in loving and mourning Cordelia Rookwood.

Katarina had been at school when it happened but Augustus had collected her personally and returned her home. It was there that she had stayed since. Being idle had proved almost worst than returning to school. Most of Katarina's time was spent asleep in her room or wandering the grounds as she searched for signs of spring life. The air was starting to warm up pleasantly and the first sounds of singing birds all winter was the only thing that brought comfort to her mind. It was poetic, really, the way as she turned to wearing black the world transformed to green. Katarina had just returned from one of her walks as entered through one of the back doors to Rookwood manor and her face glowed pink from the wind and slight winter chill that hung in the air.

Katarina had been forced to retreat by an incoming rainstorm that she had seen not too far off. It hit when she was about 300 feet from the door and had forced her to sprint the rest of the way indoors. Once in the safety of her home she was able to try her head with a towel that a house elf offered her and shed the jacket that had suffered most of the water damage, leaving her as dry as ever. "Mister Krum is waiting for you in the conservatory, ma'am. I think you've kept him waiting." the elf offered, clearly distressed by her lateness and elegance of dress (or rather lack thereof). She thanked the elf and meandered her way towards the room that they had been designated to meet at. Upon reaching her destination, Katarina leaned on the doorframe, momentarily in awe of the sight that lay before her. From a brief second the cloud of sadness lifted and she became excited about the possibilities to create that lay before her.

Then Elijah Krum turned and spoke and the moment was over. "Yes. And thank you for coming. It's very kind, especially for a busy man like yourself." Katarina couldn't help but cringe internally at how stiff and emotionless her own voice sounded. With a slight panic she realized how long it had been since talking to anyone who wasn't Kendall or Athena. Avoiding people - that had become her other new hobby. But even if it didn't sound like it, Katarina meant her words. It wasn't every girl who got private painting lessons with the deputy minister of magic. When Cerelia had first suggested the idea it had excited Kat, eager to become better at something she already loved. But as Kendall made the arrangements it had seemed like an increasingly bad idea, for reasons she couldn't pinpoint. Now she wasn't so sure. Part of her longed to reach out and grab the heavenly supplies that had been stocked in this room but part of her felt it was too soon. Too soon to deal with anyone at all.

But Elijah had cleared his schedule to be here, and feeling guilty, Katarina vowed to force herself to at least fake cheerfulness for the time they had together. Swallowing, she entered the space and moved closer to her new teacher, a man whom she had known her entire life and yet still managed to not know at all.

The most important thing about painting was not about discernible skill but what the artist could do with his tools and his eye. Elijah himself did not boast any great talent though many had tongue had waxed lyrical about such a capacity. What Elijah possessed was a knack for bringing out a different shade of beauty in things otherwise considered utterly dull to the eye. He was the first to hold his hands up and say that he wasn’t the best at what he did but he would not claim to be the worst – rather stuck in the middle instead. The Rookwoods could have drawn any artist from any continent yet they chose him to train one of their daughters and Elijah was genuinely honoured. He had, upon seeing the state of the house in terms of mood, vowed quietly to himself that he would try and make things easier – if only for Athena’s sake for it was her weariness that worried the Krum the most.

For a moment, Elijah was dumbfounded, never having truly looked upon Katarina except in perhaps a passing. She had a softly rounded face and the slightest of widow’s peaks at her hairline. Her chin came together the same way Kendall’s did but her nose wasn’t nearly as big as his – tiny, actually – and her lips were soft and plump with the femininity that was also, bizarrely, retained by her brother. But it was her eyes that caught Elijah’s attention. In the light still stretching down through the clouds, the greeny-blue hue really shone and Elijah found his hands reaching for the piece of paper and the pencil that he had left on the table. He had meant to put it elsewhere but in his dismay with the weather, had forgotten, and with quick movements of his hand, he began to take down her likeness on paper.

“Come in,” he motioned, taking his hand from the paper only briefly before beginning to bring out lightly from the widow’s peak the soft plumes of dark hair that was a Rookwood trademark. “Really, I’m lonely.” Elijah laughed at his own pitiful attempt at a joke and cleared his throat, shaking his head at himself. “Busy is one thing...” Elijah conceded. “But when you’re busy with the rough end of the stick of the Ministry, then you know it’s time to take a few days off to do the things you love.” Elijah put his pencil down and smudged briefly the line he’d drawn in order to properly mute the shading on her cheeks. He smiled at Katarina, looking up for the first time since he’d put pencil to the page and gestured briefly to the fruit bowl. “Hungry? It was meant to be part of the lesson but the lighting ...” He lifted his eyes up. “... the clouds stole it from me. We’ll have to think of something else.”

Determined to keep the mood light, Elijah continued to work diligently for a few more moments, allowing the girl to look about, before ripping the page up and holding it before her. He glanced at it, just to make sure he hadn’t made any mistakes, and held it out to her – an olive branch, if you will.

“It’s just a doodle,” Elijah explained, hoping that would be a sufficient excuse if she didn’t like it. “Anyway, I’ve been looking forward to this. The Ministry is miserable. Robert is complaining about Merlin only knows what but I’m stuck tending to Mermish-speaking cats.” Elijah shook his head and reached for the packet of cigarettes he’d left on the dresser. The young man lit a cigarette between his lips before crossing the room to open a window. He waved the smoke away before taking the cigarette from his lips and exhaling. “Alright, so where would you like to start? Still life had been the plan but...” He allowed for the rain, the sound of which had been let into the room by the open window, fill the silence and he smiled despite himself. “What do you enjoy about art, eh? How about that? Oh, actually...are you any good at darts, darlin’?”

Elijah crossed the room again, finding his way easily, and opened one of the top drawers to the dresser. He took out a packet of balloons and held them up, a mischievous glint in his eye. He moved to Katarina and stood before her.

“Best to get messy if you don’t know what else to do.” He told her cheerfully. “There’s some paint in that box down there. Pick your colours... I’ll grab the canvas. How’s school going, anyway?”

Elijah was momentarily befuddled with how conversational he was being but reminded himself that this was a girl who needed lively company – not that of two depressed men, sisters who didn’t understand and a woman trying to play mother, friend, wife and daughter-in-law all at the same time. She needed someone removed and Elijah had taken this role upon himself. The Rookwoods each needed someone to count on. Augustus would find solace in a brothel while Kendall would whine to Athena who would deal with her own night terrors. Katarina’s sisters would have Athena but who would Katarina have? No one, really. None of them had any time for her and Elijah had to fill that gap. He didn’t have to but to him now it was important. He had to be there for Katarina. He had to make life light and fun; and he’d do it, whether it killed him.

When Katarina heard the name Elijah Krum her mind immediately jumped to the bright faced, long haired boy who had ran around with her brother for all of those years of school. But in all those years the two of them had barely spoken, Kendall having no interest in hanging out with his little sister when his best friend was over. But Elijah looked different now than the picture she had of him in her head. Even though he was still Elijah, he somehow managed to look a little older. The silly boy had become somewhat of a man overnight with his high ranking job, children, and own branch of pureblood legacy.

On his command Katarina entered the room, eyes darting around, frantic to take in the newly transformed space. As she absorbed in the atmosphere Katarina realized that this place didn't feel like her home at all. Rain.splattered on large windows and made a pleasant tinking and pattering on the glass and roof. In her appreciation of what had been created for her she failed to notice the faint sounds of Elijahs pencil as he sketched her. Katarina continued to browse, willing to touch anything without being given permission first. Even those this space was intended for her use it didn't feel like hers to disturb, Elijahs setting it up made it his studio by default.

Katarina listened to his cheery tone, only half registering what he said. For a second she considered grabbing a pear from the perfectly displayed bowl but then realized she wasn't hungry. Lately she hadn't had much of a stomach. With her back still to Elijah, Katarina replied softly, "Well, boredom or not, I'm still grateful." She repressed the urge to thank him for stopping by to visit the whole family, as it had been much too long since his appearance on the grounds. But that wasn't her place as an entirely unranked member of the family. Besides, it would mean much more coming from Kendall.. not to mention if she heard 'I'm sorry for your loss' one more time she would undoubtedly reach her breaking point.

Before anything else was said Katarina turned and found herself being handed a sketch. It took her a moment to realize that it was a likeness of her, a fact that brought the slightest of unwanted pink tinges to her cheeks. Though not particularly complex, it was a lovely picture, even though Katarina considered the sketch to be more elegantly featured than what her reflection showed. Katarina barely had time to squeak out a "Thank you" before Elijah had sprung to the next topic.

Talking to Elijah was provincial tad overwhelming for the young Ravenclaw. Within these first few minutes she quickly learned that it was much easier to just give a nod in response than actually try to form any sort of sentences. It was actually surprisingly comforting to have conversation such as this. Silence had always seemed to be Katarinas most comfortable state and she quickly found herself a bit amused by the way he carried himself. The enthusiasm of every word was a shock after almost a week of solemn faces and walking on tiptoes around the house. Katarina soon realized that although she had been content indulging in her grief, she really did long for someone to cheer her up. But if Eli didn't stop jumping around the room Katarina was certain she would get dizzy trying to keep track of him.

When Elijah pointed to the box of paints, Katarina immediately followed his direction and bent down to examine the choices within. From the rainbow of colors she selected a symphony of blues, greens, yellows, and an accenting white. The brunette grabbed her choices and with slight trepidation in her voice called back to her new teacher. "Did you say darts?"

Katarina returned to where Elijah was with the canvas and set her paint selections on the table nearest to them. "I have to warn you, there is a reason I've never been asked to join in Quidditch. I've got pretty terrible aim." Her brow furrowed slightly in concern but in her voice there was a clear tone of amusement, the first sign of any sort of joy all day. And, okay, her aim wasn't terrible but it certainly wasn't anything to celebrate. Elijah Krum was greatly respected around the wizarding world and the last thing she wanted was to completely mess everything up when he was kind enough to put up with her all afternoon. After all.. he was only here because she was Kendall's kid sister.

For Elijah it was odd to be in the Rookwood home for someone that wasn’t Kendall or Athena. It was strange for him not to be lounging somewhere, waxing about Hogwarts nostalgia. He didn’t miss the soft fabric of the arm chair, or the alcohol that was inappropriate for the time of day, but he did find it rather bemusing to be without a single truly familiar Rookwood in their home. He could hardly claim to be unpleasant – it was just strange, is all.

He hadn’t really realised that there was such a timid creature hiding in the Rookwood household. Even Katarina’s younger sisters were adorably precocious but he had never really realised that Katarina, well, much as it pained him now, truly existed. That was probably why he kept on smiling.

With the paint on the table, Elijah ripped open the packet of balloons and with a flick of his wand, set about filling the balloons with a sizable amount. Once they were filled, another flick attached them to the canvas and Elijah brought the canvas over to sit on a rather old easel; one he hoped wouldn’t mind being doused with a little bit more paint. Then Elijah transfigured a few spare bits of guff that he’d had no idea what to do with into darts, a set each for them, and pressed a handful into Katarina’s hands.

“I said darts.” He told her with a roguish grin. “To tell you the truth, your brother’s throw is awful. Thankfully he can fly; otherwise he’d be no good at Quidditch.” Elijah laughed a little and shook his head before gesturing to the canvas. “Okay, so the idea is keep your eye on what you want to hit. You’ll get it eventually. This is less about art, more about fun.”

Elijah gestured to the canvas for Katarina to go first and smiled warmly again. “Okay, so ... I know Kendall like the back of my hand. I know your father pretty well, your sisters... your sister-in-law. But what do I know about you – nothing! Except you’re in Ravenclaw. I know that. And you are...fifth...no, sixth year!” Elijah grinned, knowing he’d guessed right. “That’s all I have, I’m afraid.”

Katarina reached out and accepted the darts in her outstretched hand. She set all but one on the table where the paints had sat moments before and twirled the remaining dart in her thin fingers. She let a tiny laugh out at his comment about Kendall's throwing. She supposed that was just a trait that ran in the family, though unfortunately Katarina had managed to not receive the flying gene either. She was helpless on a broom and had never had the stamina to properly be taught. Though she had been two years below the boys Katarina could clearly remember Quidditch matches where Kendall and Elijah had been teammates. She had cheered ecstatically for the pair, bragging to her friends that she knew such stars.

With a slightly quizzical look over at Elijah, Katarina considered his comment. It was true - living with a family of such loud personalities had resulted in her becoming quite invisible. This had always been the case for her. From infancy Kendall had been heir and therefore much less attention had been given to the younger girl. Augustus had his back to her more often than not, a fact that had always secretly stung the Ravenclaw. Her mother had been kinder, always willing to dress her up like a life sized doll, especially when it was noticeable that her looks were reasonable. But even though her love was sweeter, it was always her father's approval that she sought, leaving her quite more miserable than she would have been if she didn't care.

"Well, what would you like to know?" Katarina asked, a soft smile playing at her lips. She had never been great at talking about herself simply because few ever bothered to ask. Obviously, there was more to her than what he had mentioned but Katarina was never sure what precisely people wanted to hear. At parties she simply spun a story of small talk that pleased the average ego-filled pureblood adult. But who she was really? That rarely got expressed, and only to Cerelia and a few select others. Sometimes even she wasn't quite sure.

Carefully, Katarina raised her arm and aimed at the canvas before her. Yellow paint exploded over the surface and on to the floor, the balloon having by some miracle been hit. She was startled by the mess it created but her face immediately lit with joy at the sight. Almost immediately she turned to Elijah to look for approval, excitement glinting in her eyes by her success. For a second her gaze caught the older boy's and her smile softened, abashed by her sudden outburst. She was reminded of his position in both the family and their world and found it hard to relax and overlook this title. The bold color that had sprayed on her easel felt like summer and added a little warmth to the blues and grays of this rainy day.

"I want to paint because it makes me happy. But also because it makes other people happy. I want to be able to create emotion in something motionless or brighten someone's day with a glance. There's a quiet magic in being able to capture those things that no one else can and if nothing else I just want to experience that. I don't know.. it's just the only thing I've ever had any sort of passion about. And I couldn't just let it slip away." Softly but steadily, Katarina answered the question that he had asked awhile ago. What do you like about art, eh? Silently, Katarina picked up a dart from the table and handed it to the man standing next to her, offering it for him to throw. She offered him the softest of smiles, an apology of sorts for so many words.

For Elijah Krum there was no such Rookwood that could surprise him. He had been amongst them all since he was a boy, Kendall a comrade since they were cherubs, Augustus a man he had admired since he’d been old enough to understand the meaning of Augustus’ work. They were a special extension of his own family and very much now the centre of his family. Being discarded and disowned was something that could be overcome but was potentially devastating if you didn’t have someone to catch you at the end of the tunnel. Kendall had done that and had remained a firm friend, allowing Elijah time to heal and get his head in order – so to speak. There had been many a drunken night with glorious females and somehow it’d worked – somehow, Elijah had turned out alright.

When Cordelia had died, Elijah had tried to be there but it was difficult. The Rookwoods were as embracing as they were retreating and when she expired, they disappeared almost off of the face of the earth for Elijah and it had taken him time to try and wiggle back in again. What he found was a broken, depleted family being held together by a woman too young to cope but too old to not do something and certainly too involved just to think life was to go on as normal.

Mira was there as best she could be for Athena. Elijah could only do but sort of sit with Kendall – the other man wasn’t going to say anything. He’d spent time with Kendall’s sisters to give Athena a few hours rest but he hadn’t really been with Katarina – or Augustus for that matter, who was genuinely absent.

It was nice to think he’d have the opportunity to make Katarina’s life a bit easier, even if it was only for a few hours a week. If it helped ease the pain, Elijah would spend every day with her.

The man gave a shout when one of the balloons popped and he grinned, meeting Katarina’s gaze with amazement in his eyes.

“Can’t throw, eh?” He mocked her, elbowing her playfully in the ribs. “I think not. Do it again!”

What Elijah had not expected was that the girl had more than your average thoughts on art. It was important to her and he appreciated that. It wouldn’t be a waste – it’d all be worth it.

“Perfect.” He smiled. “Tell me, tell me, tell me....” he hummed for a moment in thought before throwing the dart. A purple balloon exploded and streamed down the canvas. Elijah grinned despite himself and looked over at Katarina. “Favourite things!”

Another dart flew through the air. Amazingly, it also found its target, sending dark blue paint across the canvas. Another little squeal came out of Katarinas mouth, overly excited about her success. She thought for a moment and bit her lip, unsure if there was a correct answer. "I like the ocean.. Freshly cut flowers." she looked over to Elijah and clarified "But I like wildflowers. Something about store bought or magically created.. they're just not quite the same." Katarina picked up another dart and threw it, missing the balloons. "I speak a bit of French, but very poorly, and I'm so helpless at it my tutor gave up on me. But I did love France the couple times I visited. I wish I had an excuse to travel more but I don't really go for any business and there's rarely time for pleasure. Someday I want to go somewhere that the sea and sky are both glowing blue. It's my favorite color." Katarina shrugged softly, unsure of what he was interested in hearing and feeling her words were directionless. She wasn't used to talking about herself so much.

"And what about you?" Immidiately it felt easier shifting the spotlight off herself. "What do you like?" Obviously Katarina knew Elijah better than he knew her but she was sure her knowledge of him barely scratched the surface.

Katarina wondered how much time the pair was going to spend together they hadn't planned for more than this one 'lesson' but it had been implied. Now that she was talking to him she could imagine having someone else to spend time with. It was strange to be just the two of them without a doubt but it was welcome none the less. Katarina seemed to have become an increasingly solitary girl, spending time with few outside of Cerelia, Gisele, Julien, and her nuclear family. There were few who's company she truly enjoyed and it often took too long for her to feel comfortable, leaving possible companions quickly uninterested.

Hogwarts was much of the same. She spent her days in class and nights studying, sometimes alongside Cerelia. Unlike some of the other girls she paid attention in school and rarely wasted time with parties of other uselessness. Drinking had never been her scene.. in fact a party was probably the single most terrible environment for her. She hated the crowds, the noise, the terrifying loss of control. The whole situation was one giant, unorganized, hubbub and Katarina had a hard time handling anything like that. She liked her world peaceful and orderly. The way it had always been.

Katarina was enjoying herself more than she expected. The paint splatters exploded around the easel, on to both the canvas and floor. She threw another dart and watched the balloon explode. It was a wonderful sight for tired eyes.

It was always a more natural experience around women, for Elijah. In his mind, though he was well aware of their backhandedness, they were much simpler creatures and there was never the juggle of power that dealings with men demanded. Elijah had always felt much calmer and much more relaxed around women and though many a time it had proven his downfall, their less than favourable attributes did little to deter him. He preferred it. They were complicated but uncomplicated and more often than not just needed a willing ear. Elijah was unlike most Purebloods in the sense that he did not enjoy talking about himself. He enjoyed a good chat but rarely about himself. No, he was more of a listener than anything else and smiled impishly at Katarina as she began to reveal more about herself.

She was a proper young lady, Elijah realised, but different – very different. She did not enjoy the flowers that many of her age did and she piqued his interest immediately when she told him about her French ability which she confided was rather trying. Elijah’s eyebrows rose and he threw a dart as he turned his own knowledge of the French language over in his mind. His was standard mixed with colloquial terms that really, one of his stance in society should not have known. He wouldn’t have dreamed of ever teaching Katarina such things but he did think perhaps maybe he could help her. He’d been dismal at all languages and had struggled with English as a young boy. It was only until he truly began to learn French that English clicked and now he was speaking it constantly. He often wondered if he could remember any Bulgarian or other Balkan languages at all.

“Well, I could help you.” Elijah offered with an easy smile. “I know the feeling. My tutors were never particularly tolerant with me, either. I’d be glad to help you, though. Once you understand one language – the others soon follow. I think with a little proper instruction – maybe even a visit if I can convince your father – we could get you fluent in no time, eh? What do you say?”

Elijah wasn’t quite sure what to say when the conversation turned upon him. He threw another dart, missed, and threw another, this time hearing the satisfying pop of the balloon and surge of paint down the canvas. He tapped his thigh with the ends of the darts and reached up with his spare hand to thumb his fingers through his hair as he wondered to himself what it was that he actually liked.

“Red wine,” He replied suddenly. “Awful French cigarettes... lazy Sunday afternoons ... that space of skin that is neither a woman’s buttocks nor her thigh...” he held his hands up, as if hoping to demonstrate before dropping them, believing what he divulged to be highly inappropriate. “Uh, I don’t know ... the usual, I suppose. The smell of paint ... chipped glasses ... rain. The usual arty thing. Films. Muggle films. Some are fantastic. Others...well,” He shrugged and smiled a little before throwing another dart – bull’s eye.

“Where did you stay in France?” He asked suddenly. “The city or did you go into the countryside? There is this beautiful house in Amiens; left over from ... goodness only knows what... a dozen conflicts. Yet she stands tall and proud overlooking the town and the Somme. It is a very interesting river. Or perhaps somewhere in the South, where all the tourists go to holiday? Near the Med where it is warm?”

Kat watched Elijah speak and the softest of smiles crossed her lips. He obviously didn't understand, when she said she wasn't very good at French she meant in over two years of attempted teaching she barely had retained more than 'bonjour'. On any trips to France she had completely relied on the assistance of her traveling companions to get her places and had experienced difficulties even ordering off of a menu. His promise to make her fluent was viewed as quite comical to the young girl but she decided not to burst his bubble and let him believe he would be capable of making a change in her abilities. Besides, any offer of a trip was not to be passed up, even if it was likely he didn't really mean it.,

"Countryside" Katarina answered with a slight nod. Last year she had visited Gisele and Julien at their home and the pair had given her a tour of the grounds, which had felt large enough to be half the country. Though Kat had never been particularly close to her French dormmate, the stay had been a pleasant getaway from the Rookwood house which she found herself so commonly holed up in. Later that same summer she had accompanied Kendall to Paris when he had needed to go to the city to buy something. The two hadn't stayed long, sticking mostly to the shopping list, but Katarina had convinced him to stop for both breakfast and lunch so they could sit and enjoy the scenery.

Although Katarina had no interest in being dragged into the family politics and dealings she couldn't help but wish she was less of a burden to have around. Kendall was frequently taken out on buisness or sent out to do the dirty work himself. Even Cerelia was trusted by her father in these matters. Kat hadn't bothered to inquire to her jobs but she definitely noticed when the blonde was off. She didn't want these responcibilies, but she just wanted people to trust her enough to give them to her anyway. She knew how she was viewed by her father and it was a constant distraction to her.

"But I've been in the city too. But I haven't been to the sea since I was a child. My mum used to bring me and Kendall for vacation when we were young, before we were at school." If Kendall had been hear she knew he would have wasted no time in informing her that she still was a child. Kat realized it was a bit nice being here with Elijah without the constant presence of other family members. She felt freer to act and speak as she wished, without fear of constant judgement. Not that Elijah wasn't someone to be careful around.. From the stories she had heard he had proved this many times.. But the man she was talking to now didn't feel like someone who she should fear. He didn't feel like most pureblood men. And this was both comforting and disturbing at the same time.

"But it's been almost a year since I've been. Feels like yesterday."