Who: Dolph & Bina Where: The Study When: 27 March, not long after this Rating: PG Status: Completed!
The study had quickly become Rodolphus's primary place of residence since the destruction of his library and the recent 'passing' of his son, and he had scarcely left it to eat, much less sleep. Bellatrix had taken to bringing him his meals there in the hopes that he'd stay healthy enough to endure this fit of melancholy, but he took very little pleasure in anything but the large cartons of cigarettes Corbina occasionally came by to supply him with. It was in this study that he now paced.
This latest incident with Marius had been a serious blow to his mood, but with this recent development, relief was now supplanted by anger. What the hell did he think he was playing at? It occurred to Rodolphus briefly that the return of his broken wand meant that he had been bested in battle, possibly even left for dead -- both things that Rodolphus could understand, though he did not particularly approve of -- but to remain missing and unheard from for half a week? Unacceptable.
It had been an incredibly long week, and one that Corbina did not wish to repeat. She was so incredibly tired of not having the slightest clue what was going on. She'd suspected that her nephew had been dead since last Sunday, and now for him to suddenly pop back into existence with barely a word, only to fall off the radar again? was giving Corbina a very very intense headache.
"You wished to see me?" Corbina asked Rodolphus, knocking on the door of the study with one hand as she let herself in with the other, not waiting for a response. She assumed that sometimes Rodolphus likely waved people into a room without realising that people could not see through doorways, as he wasn't one made for needless speech. Closing the door behind her, though, she waited for some sort of indication as to what he wished from her next, as she did know better than to go charging into the room when he, with good reason, was likely not in the best of moods.
"Not for any practical purpose," came his surly response, and he stopped pacing long enough to slump into the nearest chair, face dark with irritation. He patted his vest for a cigarette case and, locating one, withdrew two cigarettes, one of which he handed to his sister. It seemed a lifetime ago that he was illicitly passing her these beneath the table so their father wouldn't notice -- a lifetime ago when things were less complicated, less painful. She provided a nice island of stability, however, and it was one he appreciated greatly, if not openly.
With a fresh wave of acrid smoke spilling across his lungs, Rodolphus was reminded briefly of their father, a comparison he waved away briskly.
"What the hell do you think is going on?"
"I haven't the slightest," Corbina frowned, having to acknowledge that fact bothering her more than the fact that she didn't in the first place. She lit the cigarette as she slid in to the armchair nearest to Rodolphus, sitting sideways and letting her legs hang over one of the arms as she hadn't since she was much younger, looking up at the ceiling as she smoked. "I don't understand where he could have been, or why he would write to Gaius Travers before letting anyone in his family know what had happened. I know Astra hadn't received word. I assume that you had not either."
He gave a vague grunt in agreement, though he had just enough faith in his son to assume he wasn't out joyriding on his broom and shacking up with French whores or something equally scandalous. "I suspect he was bested in a duel of some sort and did not wish anyone to realise the extent of the damage, which is both irresponsible and childish." Which might have translated to he made me worry and now I'm going to sulk about it, if anyone dared accuse Rodolphus Lestrange of being capable of either worrying or sulking.
"Perhaps he didn't want you to be ashamed of him for being bested, if that is what happened," Corbina predicted, figuring it would be more true than not. Marius had a lot of pride, on top of Rodolphus not wanting to be someone to disappoint. He was obviously wandless, if he had left the entry open where all could see, and Astra obviously had the two halves of his own wand, so in a way she could understand why he might not want to directly come to his family.
Nonetheless, that didn't stop the fact that she was furious at him for ignoring her comment, when she'd even gone through all the trouble of warding a comment just to him. But he was safe, at least, or would be once he spoke with Gaius. She assumed that Travers would not be dumb enough to show his face again when Marius had directly commented to him, especially when Bellatrix in particular already nearly wanted Gaius's innards on display on her mantle simply for a few comments he had made in the past.
Rodolphus wanted to argue that he wouldn't be ashamed, what a stupid notion, but even he realised that it likely wouldn't be a very compelling argument to make. It was difficult to reconcile the stance that his personality simply was the way it was and it was too bad if others didn't like it and the possibility that this overly-critical trait might have been the reason he thought Marius was dead.
"I am more aggravated that I believed my son was dead than I would have been ashamed" Rodolphus retorted before grumpily adding: "-- if I had been ashamed at all. I should hope if you ever found yourself in such a predicament you would contact me immediately." Not that he expected Corbina to be out getting into trouble.
"I hope that the day never comes when I am in that sort of predicament," Corbina replied quietly, then went silent for a few moments, concentrating only on the silence and her cigarette. She'd spent so much time around Astra the last few days, trying to keep her calm for both her own and the baby's sake, that Corbina both hadn't been able to work out her own feelings on the situation. She'd also had to ignore her constant craving for nicotine, still hiding the fact that she smoked despite not really needing to anymore with her father deceased. "Do you think that he is alright?" she pondered aloud, her voice much more small and concerned than it usually was under normal circumstances.
Rodolphus's glance flashed over at his sister, an irrepressible sort of worry haunting the corners of his eyes as he pressed his lips into a thin line. Thin threads of guilt from Azkaban still lingered, and he felt careless for even having mentioned (flippantly or otherwise) any situation in which Corbina would be endangered again. Certainly, she had been a willing participant in the occasional death eater activity, but only in situations where he was reasonably certain she would go unharmed.
"That day will never come," he replied brusquely. "I will not allow it."
And, as if that settled the matter, he lapsed back into the unflatteringly self-centred irritation at Marius. He refused to worry. He would not succumb.
The severity of his expression wavered a minute, but he hid it behind a curl of blue-tinged smoke. "If he is well enough to write, I reason that he is all right." But he wasn't as sure as he sounded. And he disliked waiting nearly as much as he disliked not knowing. A rub of his eyes, and he was slumping more deeply into his chair, looking very much not the regal figure his subordinates had come to respect. "In my entire life, I have never been so tired, Corbina." A pause, or hesitation -- who could be certain? "When will this end?"
Corbina turned over in the chair, spinning so that her chin rested on the arm facing Rodolphus, and curled the rest of herself into the seat. She felt very small for a moment, which was something that Corbina had always enjoyed, being as tall a girl as she was. "I am not sure," she admitted. "I have wondered the same. I want to continue to have faith but it is verging on feeling as though we have been deceived, and that is not something I like admitting to myself, nor anyone else." She'd been thinking the same since only a few days into her stay in Azkaban, and though she had clung to the hope that they would be rescued soon, it seemed as though things had only gotten worse for her family since the takeover, not better. "I hope soon. Logically, one would think that if we are getting worn down, things must only be worse for the others."
Whatever uncertainty lingered at the edges of his lips was erased in an instant as Rodolphus's eyes narrowed. "Deceived?" He asked sharply, waiting for clarification before beginning a lecture. It was not his habit to waste words when there was ambiguity, but surely Corbina was not suggesting that the Dark Lord had done anything untoward.
Corbina knew that tone in Rodolphus's voice, and didn't want to say or do anything to provoke it futher. Clearly she had let herself overstep her bounds in a moment of uncertainty. "Do you think," she started, trying to cover her tracks and go a different route with what she had said, "that everyone else is as dedicated to the cause as our family? It seems natural that our lot would be tested the most considering our envolvement, but doesn't it seem as though things would have progressed... I don't know, faster, that change would be happening more quickly if others on our side truly wanted them to change as much as they claim? How often have we had parties to attend or teas to hold instead of working towards something bigger?"
Immediately appeased, Rodolphus returned to lazing, expression softening into the more neutral sort of severity that so characterised him. He considered this notion over a deep, smoke-laden breath, and idly flicked his cigarette, watching magical ash curl into itself and disappear before hitting the floor. He agreed that he would rather be out doing his Lord's bidding than sitting bored at some festivity or another, but there was a time and place for cultural duty and social duty, and they were bound to both. However, she did raise an interesting point.
"I have wondered," he admitted, "whether certain families truly understand the Dark Lord's plan and trust in him as ours does, as do the Blacks and Averies." One just had to look at Walden's lineage to know that pureblood did not necessarily mean loyalist -- something he'd worked hard to take his best friend away from over the long years. Walden was a credit to the cause, but his family was not. Rodolphus wondered suddenly how true that was of their younger death eaters. "I do not know that we can instill loyalty in them, however, if they do not have it already. Anyone who refuses to see the Dark Lord's path is too blind to see sense."
"So what should we do?" Corbina asked Rodolphus, the air, the universe, not really expecting a concrete reply from anyone. She wasn't sure if there was an answer that anyone or anything could give, especially not on demand right at that moment. Sitting up in the chair -- that position not lending itself well to smoking -- she took another contemplative drag and curled her legs up underneath her, wishing that she wasn't terrified to let any other sort of doubt directly in the Dark Lord himself seem obvious ever again. She was certain that it would pass soon enough... and if it didn't, she would find a way to make any sort of hesitation fade away herself.
Rodolphus sighed before smashing the cigarette into a marble bowl. He was tired. Just tired. He didn't want to deal with the library, or his son, or anything else that required him to be responsible. Even the training sessions for the death eaters last week had exhausted him, as important as he knew them to be. Things had gotten far more complicated than he ever could have predicted; even though they'd 'won' and were making incredible progress, being in power made them harsher targets than ever before. Why could no one understand that the violence could now stop. Things could be better. Things would be better.
Standing, he took a few steps forward toward his sister and pressed a kiss on the top of her head. "I don't know." An admission he did not wish to make but acquiesced to anyway. "The Dark Lord will show us the way." It was such a comfortable place to fall back to; another to take responsibility, to lead. Rodolphus desired that certainty more than ever. "We are likely wanted for dinner. Shall we go?"