Rabastan is counting down the days... (imperiofury) wrote in an_ill_wind, @ 2009-08-21 18:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | - 1980/08 august, florence rosier, rabastan lestrange |
Who: Florence Rosier & Rabastan Lestrange
What: Revelations abound.
Where: Rabastan's house, Ipswich
When: 21 August 1980: evening.
Rating: PG
Status: Complete.
Relaxing on his favorite chair in the parlor so as to be near the door when Florence arrived, Rabastan wanted to curl up and just forget about the world forever. Maybe he could live in denial and just drift away into another world. Or simply avoid all mention of this damned divide on which the wizarding world found itself perched. He supposed he would be unable to do just that until he had personally seen to killing Fabian Prewett. That bastard deserved whatever he received in Rabastan's opinion and he hoped that he could be the one to either pay him back in kind or wipe him off the bloody map. That seemed to be his life's mission at this point aside from not continuing to fuck up his existence in the world. It was a relative miracle that Dolph had somehow impressed upon the Dark Lord not to kill him and for that, Rabastan resolved to be eternally grateful to his brother despite their many disagreements in the past few months. Drifting off to sleep, he considered buying another place to hide from prying eyes. One could never be too careful.
It had taken Florence less than the promised minute to snap her journal shut, grab her wand, and disapparate from her home in London. She didn't care at this precise moment if her parents noticed her abrupt absence. She'd been trying to distract herself from worry for just over a week over Rabastan's disappearance, and all pretense aside, she needed to see him, to assure her mind that he really was back. She was torn between wanting to slap him and wanting him to hold her in her arms, and it was terribly frustrating.
Standing on his front step, she rapped shortly on the door, depositing her wand in the pocket of her robes and took a deep breath.
Rising to his feet slowly since he had no sooner dropped off to sleep than her knocking sounded; Rabastan braced himself against the wireless and propelled himself towards the door slowly. Waving off his house-elves, he crossed the threshold and grasped the doorknob with his right hand. Thankfully, that broken arm injury had been to his non-wand arm although it still throbbed thanks to Rodolphus & Bellatrix’s curses last night. All this pain had him taking calming droughts every hour and he hoped to make this a short evening but knew subconsciously that she deserved to know everything within reason. He sure as hell was not going to explain the real reason behind his idiocy and realized he would need to lie to her a bit to avoid the important questions to which only Dolph knew the answers.
Having decided beforehand not to wear a glamour, he supposed he looked shitty but maybe that would easier drive home the point that being a Death Eater was dangerous work. Swinging the door open, he greeted her with a sad smile and reached out to hold her, “On my honour, I will explain everything.”
Florence hesitated only a fraction of a second, hardly noticeable, before she ran into his arms, wrapping her arms around him. Her heartbeat slowed to a normal rate and she let out a slow breath as the realization struck home that this was no trick, that he really was here. "You disappear like that again, Rabastan, and I swear--" But she didn't know how to finish that threat. Once had been hard enough, so much harder than she'd ever thought it could be. She didn't want to think about it happening again, and he'd only been gone one week. "I was so worried," she admitted softly.
As she dashed into his arms, he wrapped his arms around her. “I promise to the best of my ability that I will not disappear like that again.” His life had been one private hell and worst of all, he had thought that the last time he had seen her would be just that – his last time. “I know you were. I was equally concerned about you,” he explained in a glum voice.
He had not intended to tell her the truth about himself until after they were married. Of course, she might hate him quite a bit after this to the point that a future together would not be an option. He rather hoped he could hold off as his father had with his mother until Festus had returned home one night all bloodied after some excursion with his halfblood Lord. Rabastan’s lip curled in disgust at the thought of the Dark Lord’s heritage but pushed it to the back of his mind. The reason he had hoped to wait revolved around the reality early on that they might both decide they loved someone else. He definitely did not need many non-Death Eaters knowing about his affiliation. Of course, it was a little different now that he loved her but early on, he had been hesitant for those reasons.
Rabastan kissed her forehead lightly and pulled away slowly to ask her gently, “Would you be interested in anything to drink? I have all sorts of non-alcoholic beverages on tap tonight.”
Florence didn't ease out of the embrace, pushing out of his grasp and folding her arms over her chest. "What the hell were you worried about me for?" she exclaimed. As difficult as the past week had been, she could take care of herself. She was not the one who had fallen off the radar after heading out for lunch. "Gods, Bastan, what happened to you?" Her eyes scanned his form, taking in every bruise, every visible injury. Her stomach turned, seeing how damaged he was, but she tried to hide it.
Ignoring his offer of drinks, she realized that the front door still stood open. Removing her wand, she pointed it at the door and watched it swing closed. "And don't tell me you were on business," she added, turning back to him. She may not have been very familiar with his work, but she was damned sure it didn't leave him looking like this.
Rabastan grimaced, “Well maybe I was not worried about you so much as I was me. I had a hellish week personally.” He threw up his hands in self-defense, “Yes, I know you are about to tell me how bad your week was without me making some contact. But I can assure you my week was worse.” Seeing her eyes spot his injuries, he glanced down at the floor in a disappointed manner.
“Would you believe me if I told you that I ran into a door?” He tried to joke but spotting her look, he shut up quickly. “Let us just say, for starters, that my work takes me to some exotic places where I have to fight mental people.” Like basements and crazy bastards like Fabian Prewett, who must have beaten the shit out of him. It all was still somewhat hazy since he got fucking obliviated, which was the mark of a true coward he believed. All he could remember was his capture and then hanging out in the cellar all bloody week.
When she closed the door, he quickly threw the wards back up with his new mahogany wand that he had purchased earlier that day. He had lost his old hornbeam one somewhere between the restaurant and the Order’s safehouse and he wondered for a moment if she might notice that since they had been in seven years of classes together. This new wand was nowhere near as good as his old one, which was one more reason why he should not have carried out this little suicide mission. “Well, that would depend on your definition of business,” he quipped in a completely serious tone.
"I really don't think you have any idea what's going through my mind," Florence replied coldly. Who the hell was he to presume that she'd actually be preoccupied with herself right now? And she was entirely unamused with his attempt at levity. She wasn't in the mood for jokes. Disappearing for a week was a serious matter, as far as she was concerned, and she wanted this business resolved before she thought about laughing.
She raised an eyebrow, oblivious to Rabastan's new wand. "What do you mean?" she asked carefully. A million other questions came to mind, but she silenced them. One thing at a time. She wanted to give him the chance to explain himself, to be able to focus on one question rather than on trying to appease her. Because the only thing that was going to appease her at this point was the truth.
“Fine,” Rabastan grunted as he moved over to his chair. “I have to sit down. All this standing is making me dizzy. As I said, my week was bloody awful.” He dropped into the chair like a rock in free fall and waved his hand, “Take your pick of the seats. I know my manners are horrid tonight but I have other concerns like all this pain.” Summoning the nearest calming drought over to the arm of his chair with a slight wave of the wand, he swore under his breath. He mumbled in pain as he popped the cork out of the bottle and swigged a sizable portion. “This stuff is supposed to last an hour. Looks like their dosages must be off. I took it about forty minutes ago.” His head throbbed, as did his formerly broken ribs and the aggravated shoulder. Not to mention that damned Cruciatus curse of Bellatrix’s last night. He knew if he stood up now, his vision would swim.
“I mean that sometimes we are involved in things that most people know nothing about. What do you know about my disappearance? Did anyone tell you anything while I was gone?” Rabastan did not want to offer any more information than necessary nor contradict the others’ explanation assuming she had heard something from someone.
Florence followed him into the parlor and sat in the nearest chair, pocketing her wand once more, her eyes following him closely. It worried her, seeing him like this, dependent upon some ridiculous potion to function, clearly in pain. And if merely standing made him dizzy... damn it, she wanted answers, but she didn't want him injuring himself further on her behalf.
"Danny told me you'd gone missing. That you were going to a pub for lunch, and you..." She didn't want to think of the brief chat she'd had with Danny that night. He hadn't been able to tell her anything, just told her not to worry. And she wished that she'd been able to follow his instructions. It had never been a problem before. But she couldn't help but worry about Rabastan. "Your brother was even more reluctant to tell me anything."
Closing his eyes briefly to let the potion take control again, he reopened them and focused on her from across the room. He leaned forward a little bit, “Salazar, that stuff hit the spot. Now where were we?” Collecting his thoughts for a moment, he began to explain, “Yes I did have a lunch date with a classmate of ours from school. Sometimes, my other job requires me to do things that are not exactly the safest things to do. On that day, I had lunch with Fabian Prewett, who does not hold our political views in the slightest.” He paused for a second to allow that to sink in and he had a fair guess that she would be haranguing him any second now for making any contact with Prewett, who had been so fucking annoying to the both of them just last week.
Florence very well might have asked him what the hell he was doing meeting her cousin for lunch, especially after the way Fabian had talked about her, but something else caught her attention. "Your other job?" she inquired, a bit of her frustration leaking into her tone. He kept dancing around the subject, and all she wanted was a straight answer. And she had a feeling he was getting around to it, or he wouldn't keep bringing it up, but she wasn't in a very patient mood.
“Yes, my other job.” Rabastan nodded curtly and continued. He took a breath, “I work to ensure that the pureblood culture continues unadulterated by the filthy Mudbloods and blood traitors in wizarding society. I have been a Death Eater since the summer of 1974, just after we graduated from Hogwarts. That is my other job,” he stopped for her reaction, which he hoped would not result in him being hexed.
Florence eyed him carefully, still and silent. It was probably for the best that she had not accepted a drink, for she would likely have dropped the glass. He wasn't lying, of that she was certain. It would be a foolish lie, and when she thought about it, it made perfect sense. "I see," she said softly, no inflection to betray her feelings on the matter. She wasn't sure how she felt about this. All she knew was that she did not like the idea of him risking his life in a war, the same way she hated the notion of her father and her brother doing the same.
Rabastan decided to be about as vague with the next bit as possible. While she did need to know a fair amount, he really was not at liberty to tell her about his rogue status as a Death Eater. He had a feeling that she would have difficulty understanding what compelled him to run off as his fellow Death Eaters had without the pertinent information. Pondering all this, he spoke at last, “My lunch with Fabian had been a mission to obtain sensitive information from him to assist the Dark Lord. I am unable to reveal said data because in order to keep you safest, we must limit your knowledge of my activities in service to the Dark Lord. Our opposition group – the Order – is predictably led by Albus Dumbledore and unfortunately is not a complete band of fools.” He wondered what she would think about that, knowing that their old Headmaster had such a large role in the other crowd. It really should come as no surprise, he decided.
Picking back up where he had left off and staying as near to the truth as he could afford, Rabastan related, “I invited Danny & Ally to run interference for me at the lunch meeting but unfortunately Fabian also brought some of his own Order friends. One of them side-along apparated me from behind and I had no means to escape for the next five days. From Thursday to Tuesday, the Order had me tied to a chair in a basement with no food and little water. After my release, I spent a few days recuperating in Lestrange Manor with no wand, which prevented me from accessing my journal. The only reason I could contact you today was my purchase of a new wand before I came home this afternoon.” Resting his head on the chair, he waited for her to respond.
Florence cocked her head to the side, absorbing the information as he spoke, mentally discarding anything she deemed irrelevant. "Precisely how much of an idiot do you think I am?" One thing was certain at this point, her father had never revealed to the ranks that she had discovered his secret. All she had to know in regards to her family's work for the Dark Lord was if and when they would be gone, so she could cover for them if necessary. She didn't expect any more from Rabastan, and frankly, she didn't care to know the details of his work. And she wanted to know even less about this Order.
Rabastan wanted to snarl back but he refrained at the last moment. Deciding that would probably prove to be a very bad idea, he replied calmly, “I never have thought you to be an idiot. I just wanted to convey my point that this needs to be kept secret.” For all he knew, Florence had never established that her father and brother were Death Eaters. He assumed that her mother knew as did his own but normally siblings would not find out unless they were younger brothers that the Dark Lord wanted one to recruit in the future.
"I know better than to ask questions," Florence remarked, lowering her eyes for a moment. He'd been able to trust her with his secret, but she wasn't so keen on sharing hers. For five months, she hadn't so much as hinted that she knew what her father and brother did when slipped out of the house in dark robes. And she didn't really know how to tell him. "Ask my father, or Evan, if you don't believe me." She glanced up at him, watching carefully to gauge his reaction.
“Good,” he stated bluntly and then his eyes widened at her revelation. “How did you find out about Evan and your father?”
"I really don't think that's any of your concern," she replied defensively. Of course, her father had also forbidden her from speaking about it, and she was inclined to agree with him. Information was safer when the number of people who shared it was limited. She sighed, leaning back in her seat. How had they gotten to this point? "Look, I don't--"
Florence leaned forward, her mind leaping back to something he'd said only a minute ago. "Wait, Danny and Alecto are..." She wasn't aware how much her volume had increased as her energy propelled her out of her chair. "Let me guess, Rodolphus is one as well? No, don't tell me, I don't want to know." She was pacing now. How could he be so careless in what he said? It had always been enough that she protected her family, and she could accept having to protect him as well. But she had no need or desire to know about anyone else.
Rabastan shrugged indifferently. It really did not matter what she told him on the issue. At least he was in the open now about his own affiliation with her. He really had no desire to know the inner workings of her father's mind. "Yeah, I can't really tell you anything else. I wanted you to know about Ally so you would not wonder why I have spent so much time with her over the years. We have become quite close friends and you could say that we have common interests." He could also have added that he did not invite Ally to his house anymore without other people present since he had begun dating Florence. But he supposed that was better left unsaid.
Remembering something out of the blue, he drawled slowly, "That whole thing about my promotion thing at work requiring me to learn about Merlin-era artifacts. That's just a cover for something else. I really do not know much more than you do about the topic."
"What the hell do I care--ugh!" Not once had she implied that she thought he and Alecto Carrow were more than friends. Aside from the fact that she was below his stature, Florence did not care to know what his relationship was with her yearmate, as long as it was neither physical nor romantic. She didn't need any excuses to still want to be friends with Danny, and he shouldn't need any for Alecto.
She stopped short and looked at him oddly when he said something about a promotion and artifacts. "What?" She wondered briefly if there had been any brain damage incurred during this encounter he'd had with the enemy.
"I just wanted to make sure," Rabastan covered the lower half of his face with his right hand to hide his grin. That reaction had made that gamble worth it and if he had the opportunity to live that moment again, he would have done it exactly the same.
Seeing her confusion, he rushed to explain, "Do you remember how I told you I would be apprenticing with some historian at Durmstrang about artifacts so we could expand our business? I did it so you would not try to schedule anything for us between 5 and 7 in the evening. Well, that was just a smoke screen. I am still unavailable in that block of time. It's just one of those things I can't really talk about and definitely do not ask me about the era's artifacts. Because I have no idea so I would be making up some idiotic answer for you."
Florence blinked. And blinked again. "Okay," she said plainly. She vaguely recalled some discussion on the matter, and she probably hadn't thought it necessary to remember the details of that conversation. Although, she did remember that he would be busy in the evenings. Strange. That brief foray had completely sidetracked her thinking, and she struggled to get back on track. "Where were we?"
He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair and lifted an eyebrow, "I have no idea. Did you have any more questions for me about anything? I do not recall going anywhere vital before we deviated."
Florence glared at him before resuming her seat. He was being entirely not helpful, and she found it rather frustrating. She refrained from expressing her displeasure, however, her eyes focused on him once more. She'd never paid so much attention to him before, but then, she hadn't expected his disappearance to have such an impact on her. It helped to soothe her so much just to see him, to be with him. Of all the men she'd been with in her young life, there were none she could say the same of. She knew she was growing attached, but she could scarcely admit it to herself, much less to Rabastan.
"Might I lay a few ground rules, then?" she proposed gently. He had told her so much tonight, much more than she felt she ought to know, and she wanted to make sure this never happened again.
"Go right ahead," Rabastan looked at her. He supposed he could let her put some restrictions on their relationship if he must. She had suffered through the last week even if she had not been the one in the bloody chair tied up losing teeth and getting ribs broken. Or learning things he had no business knowing about like Tom Riddle's ancestry.
Florence took a deep breath. She hadn't needed to do this with her father, and she wanted to be certain she said this properly. "Firstly? I don't ever need to know what you're doing for the Dark Lord." She wanted to make that abundantly clear. She'd never come right out and told anyone she was a pacifist, but aside from being uncomfortable with the concept of war, she didn't want to have mental images of the things Rabastan did as a Death Eater.
"But," she added after a moment, "if I am to keep up pretenses should anyone ask, it would not hurt for me to know when you will be away for an extended period." And Merlin knew it would be easier on her nerves if she at least knew something. "Trust that I can account sufficiently for your absence without raising suspicions."
Rabastan's face took on a steel-like mask, "I do not plan on telling you what I am doing for the Cause." He knew for a fact based on conversations they had previously had that she did not approve of war or conflict for that matter. Besides, what kind of bloke in his right mind would tell anyone besides the necessary people that he had killed the Marchwoods as they slept or that he had attacked the hospital with the Carrows and assisted in destroying the place. "That's not my style and it never has been. On terms of informing you of my when I will or likely will be away, I can definitely do that."
“I know you would prefer not to speak about the Order at greater length but you must know this for your own safety. The Order holds themselves to another standard and I would not put it past them to kidnap certain among us for more information. As such, there are specific people you must avoid that come from within our own pureblood ranks but we know to be Order members. Sirius Black, Edgar Bones, Fabian & Gideon Prewett, Frank & Alice Longbottom, Marlene McKinnon, Emmeline Vance, Dedalus Diggle, and Benjy Fenwick must be avoided for safety’s sake. Watch what you post on the journals and if you have to, just ignore thosepeople,” he concluded with a flourish.
"None of whom I converse with in the first place!" Florence said, glaring at him. She didn't understand why it was so important she had to know these names, though it was a little startling to discover that three of her cousins were on the other side in this war. She avoided conversations with those outside her social circle, for the most part. Sighing, she leaned back in the chair. "I'll do it." She operated most comfortably with a certain amount of ignorance, and she did not like that he was taking that away from her.
"Secondly," she continued, and hesitated a moment. She had a distinct feeling he would not like this request, but she felt it necessary. "I think it best you tell my father that I'm... aware of your loyalties." It had been difficult enough approaching her father when she found out about him and Evan. Rabastan had been the one to tell her, so it was only fair that he be the one to tell her father about it.
"Well, that is good to know," he raised his arms in irritation. "Glad to hear it." Why did she have to be so damned high-strung about this? He was attempting to ensure her safety. From the way she was acting, he almost thought she found him to be an annoying pest. He grunted in disgust before he could catch himself, "Bloody brilliant, my favorite thing to do - talk to your father. Is this so you two can have a sodding conversation sometime about how Death Eaters sit around fires, roasting chestnuts and singing songs? It is not as if you have a specific reason to tell him that you know about my affiliations. You evidently know how to keep your mouth shut so why is this so important now?"
Florence fixed him with a stern look that very plainly said that she had no intention of making him do this just to see him squirm. "My father and I do not talk about what it is Death Eaters do or do not do." She'd thought he would have understood without her having to explain it. After all, she was just as concerned for his safety as he was for hers. "It is important because, gods forbid something like this should happen again, I would like someone to know that I'm allowed to know the truth of the matter." Not that she expected it to happen again, but if anything should happen to Rabastan, she didn't want to be told lies wherever she turned. And Father could be trusted to keep it to himself, she was sure of it.
"Fine, I will see to it that I meet with your father over this issue in the next short while," he concurred hesitantly. Not as though he really had any choice in the matter, he later decided her point had some merit.
Florence nodded, grateful that he had agreed, whether he liked it or not. "Thirdly--and I must stress this is the most important rule--don't ever let this happen again." She realized this request was also the most unreasonable. It wasn't as if Rabastan had asked to be kidnapped. But, all the same, she'd rather it didn't happen ever again. "Think you can manage that?" she asked coyly, a slight smile playing on her lips.
He grimaced a bit, "Do you actually think that I had a choice in the matter? But in response, I will try my best not to have a repeat of this situation in the future." Hell, if she knew the kidnapping was mostly his fault, she probably would kill him. He would deserve that reaction without a doubt. "You must have been awfully lonely this past week. With only your piano and your harp to get you by. Unless you made time to spend a bit with your friends." He grinned a little mischievously at her from across the room.
Florence sighed. He never would understand that she wasn't lonely as long as she had her music. Then again, he made a fair point, one she was not ready to admit to. It wasn't his absence so much as the mystery surrounding it that had affected her so, but she still didn't like caring this much for one man. "You may have to make it up to me, then."