m a t t i e ❁ (matildas) wrote in valesco,
@ 2010-07-05 01:46:00

Entry tags:

John
Her husband had not come home Saturday night.

He had not come home all of Sunday, either, and it was now early into the morning of Monday that Matilda Mulciber was sitting in her parlor, exhausted from the hysteria she had been in for the past two days. She'd listened to the horrifically detailed wireless reports about the peace rally, and knowing (but not actually knowing) that her husband had in fact been at the event caused her to have great anxieties. What if he was hurt? What if he'd been caught? Matilda had gone through the worries and scares of her husband's duties numerous times, but he'd always come home to her, battered and bruised but alive. So, where was he now? She hadn't dared spoken to his mother, as it was an unwritten rule to behave as if nothing was wrong or out of the ordinary when something like this occurred. Matilda couldn't recall the longest John had ever been incapacitated for...the earthquake last year, perhaps, but that had not been his own doing...

The door opened sharply as if the person on the other side was doing a thorough search through the house. Matilda screamed, thinking it was an auror or---"John!"

She leaped up from her seat and rushed to her husband, flinging herself around him and holding him to close to her as possible, "Oh, John! Don't do that to me!" she scolded tearfully, burying her face into his chest.

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mulciber
2010-07-05 06:43 pm UTC (link)

John and his father apparated into the marshes of the Mulciber grounds simultaneously. John went quickly to his father to help the aging man stand -- his left leg had been badly wounded and at his age, was slow to heal even after their layover with a Healer in service to the Dark Lord. His father would most likely need a walking stick after this. But that was the least of their troubles. John's wand hand had practically been hexed right off by an unseen foe at the peace rally. It was now bundled within a clean cloth along with healing salves. The most grave injury of all, however, was John's lack of his ring, a family heirloom, that would no doubt lead the Aurors straight to them if it was found.

"Rowle knows to destroy it, if it is found," his father was saying as they made their way toward the manor.

John kept his tongue. He knew his father was seething mad over his blunder -- forgetting to remove his family ring before going into battle.

"I dare say it is only a matter of time," his father added as they reached a rear entrance to the home. "If they haven't found it already."

That was the sinking worry that John had felt since they had arrived. They'd stayed away, at first, assuming that the ring would be found and sought out straight away. But when there were no reports of warrants for the arrest of the Mulciber men, they'd decided to chance a return home.

Once inside, John's father quickly took up an umbrella and let go of John. "They could be here," he said quietly. "We'll have to search the manor. Your mother and wife, they may be in danger."

John nodded solemnly and withdrew his wand. He gritted his teeth as he removed some of the wadding on his hand to have better hold -- it stung. Then, quietly, he moved forward with his father before they split off to search the home for Aurors. John swallowed roughly as his senses heightened with the adrenaline as he searched room after room for signs of his mother, his wife, or an Auror squad.

When he threw open a door to a parlor, he heard a familiar squawk and lowered his wand just before Matilda hit his chest. John touched her face with his good hand before wrenching her blonde head back to look into her eyes, so he could tell if she was lying. "Have they been, here?" he demanded. "The Aurors, Matilda, have they been here?"

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matildas
2010-07-05 11:10 pm UTC (link)

"Oh!" Matilda's hands immediately went up to her hair to try and create some slack within John's grip. Her face clenched as she shook her head, "N-no, it's just us, I didn't--we haven't told anyone that you weren't home--"

Scared couldn't even begin to describe how Matilda was feeling just then. John, in all his slamming around the house that occurred when he was frustrated, had never taken his anger out on her. There had been times when dishes and glasses had been smashed and thrown in her vicinity (because she had done some hurling of fragile objects herself), but this was---there was more than something wrong. The whole world seemed to be crashing down in John's eyes and Matilda forced herself to keep her gaze locked with her husband's.

What else had gone wrong? Where was his father? Had he been killed? Had John been seen? All of the worries that she had been terrified of since she had married John were surfacing as it was becoming quite obvious that something had gone terribly wrong. The smell of blood filled her nose and she knew, she knew---Matilda's eyes filled with tears that she forced not to fall, gritting her teeth. She could not become a blubbering mess when her husband looked like that.

"They're not here," she repeated, dropping her shaking hands.

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mulciber
2010-07-06 07:11 pm UTC (link)

John wasn't angry with his wife. He was terrified of what could -- no, what was going to happen once his ring was found. They would come for him. They would come for his father. And they were on their own. No help was going to come to help them fight off Aurors. They'd both surely end up dead and their wives, widows.

His breath was shallow and fast as he stared sternly at Matilda. Seeing the pain in her expression, John slackened his grip. He hadn't meant to hurt her, but in the heat of the moment, it had happened. It disgusted him. But only a little.

Pulling Matilda into an embrace, John planted a soft kiss to the top of her hair. "I am sorry," he said quietly, voice still flat. "I believe you." He then swallowed thickly as his hands moved to her arms.

"Matilda," he prompted as she quaked in his hands. "Where is Johnathon?"

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matildas
2010-07-06 10:06 pm UTC (link)

It was a great relief to have John's arms around her. Matilda's worried expression did not fade, however, and she listened to him with great concern. Their baby? She let out a breathe,

"He's in your old nursery," she said. His mother had managed to keep all the nurseries of each of her children in tact. It was eerily sentimental, considering that Anthony Mulciber's room hadn't been touched in decades.

Matilda allowed herself to be held by John without saying a word, but she knew that the silence couldn't last much longer. Something was terribly wrong, and as she pushed closer to him her head ducked and she finally caught sight of his bandaged hand. Matilda couldn't help her slight gasp and she looked up at John quickly before looking back down at his hand, "Let me heal it, I can fix it, oh--John,"

She pushed back to look him over, fearing he was ignoring other injuries, "Please tell me you're all right," Matilda said quietly, but she knew she wouldn't believe him anyway.

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