▪▫▪ c ε d (docstheword) wrote in valesco,
@ 2013-10-27 20:39:00

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Caradoc slammed the front door shut purposely, letting the loud noise announce his arrival to the inhabitants within. Well, really, one inhabitant within, as the other had presumably been asleep for the past hour; but Andrew would not be woken by familiar door activity. Emmeline, on the other hand, the mother of his child, the witch he had been living with for the past two years, the one Caradoc had restarted his life with, she would definitely notice.

Notice, and then proceed to ignore him like she had been for the past couple of weeks, but notice nonetheless.

Letting out a long sigh, Caradoc proceeded slowly through the front hallway, stopping only to toss his gloves and scarf on the side table. It was cold out, and it had taken him much longer this time to locate Emmeline and Andrew (there were a few of houses in possession that Emmeline could choose to ignore him in), so he found his patience properly tested. It had only been two days in which they had been out of contact, and Caradoc didn't truly believe it was in Emmeline's best interest in knowing what he had been up to in France, for---

He had almost walked by her, with how quietly she had been sitting in the study. Stopping abruptly, Caradoc watched Emmeline from the doorway. She appeared unfazed, continuing to write whatever it was she was writing (a letter, perhaps?) as if she continued to be the only body in the room. After a few silent passing moments, his chin dropped to his chest as his brow furrowed.

"How much longer are you planning on keeping this up?" he asked, one of his hands waving idly around the room. To what he was referring, of course, wasn't an object in the room, or her writing, but the small detail that every night she would, instead of staying home, move to one of their various decoy houses without him, leaving him to either stay home alone or go on a hunt for his family. At first he had let Emmeline do as she wished, as a necessary means to state her displeasure over him, but now it had just become irritating.

"Just so I know."

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docstheword
2013-11-04 04:32 am UTC (link)

He turned away from Emmeline when she approached, and even felt better when she backed away slightly. No, he did not want her close, for her words alone pierced him enough, there was no need for her close proximity as well. Crossing his arms over his chest, Caradoc felt the twisting in his heart deepen.

For the past five years he had spent his life on borrowed time, which had always been a fact that had never quite sat well in his stomach at the end of the day. It hadn't been... he had meant to die that cold night in January, but for reasons out of his control... it had effected him, but not in the way that seeing Therese had. It had reminded him, enlightened him to the destruction that had been his choices in England.

"Nothing," he lied easily. He kept his head down, still thinking... still contemplating... and suddenly, Caradoc felt tired. He felt very tired with this parade, tired with his thoughts, and tired with feeling like he must come up with a viable excuse to keep Emmeline tempered. If she wanted to know, then she could. But he would not fold to her displeasure over it, and would not attempt to subdue a brewing battle because of it.

"Therese Bonaccord," Caradoc murmured abruptly. "She was here, I ran into her in the park." His brow contorted for a moment, before the words began to slip from his lips effortlessly.

"She told me about how her psychotic auror ex-boyfriend continued to harass her, even all these years after my and Evan's death. So I erased her memory of our talk, went to France, and killed him."

Caradoc paused for a moment, and then added, "He wrote a book about me. I did not want her suffering any more on my account."

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advancingly
2013-11-04 05:39 am UTC (link)

Emmeline stared, gaping, she---He'd said it all with such ease. She'd gotten the explanation that she'd requested, but not necessarily wanted. This---when she's asked for him to tell her, she'd known that...her mind had jumped to the 'what ifs' of their past, but...

It used to be commonplace, the idea of going into battle and taking a life. Doing spy work for the Order, fighting in duels that you really had no chance of winning but somehow did. Emmeline found herself being forcefully pulled back into that mindset, as if his words had completely shattered the quiet, normal life they'd been attempting to live since they'd left England. His words had shattered that, and now she felt like she was back in middle of the war. Back in the middle of a time where a slight creak of your floorboard might mean you were going to be killed in the next few seconds. A time when every shadow could be concealing someone ready to put an end to everything you held dear.

Tears struck her eyes and Emmeline did not bother to wipe them away. She vaguely knew of this Therese woman, she remembered her from some outings with Mackenzie, but she had not known Caradoc had this sort of connection to her. That he'd cross an ocean and risk being found out to put an end to her torturer. A small, tiny voice far back in the recesses of her mind found the gesture noble, but the was too much fear engulfing her now. Fear for everything she currently held dear, fear for the little boy sleeping upstairs who had absolutely no idea of the terror his parents have been battling for years.

"We have a son," Emmeline whispered, unable to control the shaking of her voice. If this had been two years ago, before Andrew was in her life, Emmeline was sure that she would be flying off the broomstick in rage. But all she could manage in this moment was to keep her nearly paralyzing fear contained. The sheer panic that as good as Caradoc was at what he'd done, there was always the chance that something was left behind, something was touched, that there was something that could lead them here, that the death eaters still with their ears to the floo could overhear---it could bring them straight to their door step.

"We have---this has---this has to--end."

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