Chloris "not really a traitor" Burke (exquisitebeauty) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2009-07-13 14:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! [1980-07] july, chloris burke (née lestrange), hephaestus burke |
RP Log
Who: Chloris Burke, Hephaestus Burke & 2 guards
When: 12 July, after the verdicts were delivered.
Where: Ministry of Magic, anteroom of the Wizengamot courtroom
What: Chloris & Hephaestus say goodbye
Warning: It's short and brutal and ridiculously sad.
Status: Finished!
Chloris had stared stoically as her sentence had been delivered. Azkaban. But first, the Rehabilitation Centre due to her mental instability. Her eyebrow twitched just barely at that announcement. Mental instability? That was ridiculous, but she couldn't deny something was cracking within here. Azkaban. Her children were being relayed to Marius and Astra's care. She would not be allowed to say goodbye. Her husband, her reason for life, would be stripped from her and sent to Azkaban, where he'd already suffered enough. And for what? Simply because they wanted to leave the country? What kind of insanity was that? She was led out of the courtroom and into a small antechamber. Luckily the names of Burke and Lestrange - though Hephaestus and herself were considered traitors - still held some weight. No, she would not be allowed to say goodbye to her children. But she would be allowed to say goodbye to her husband. She waited for Hephaestus, knowing the guard stood outside the door. Their time was going to brief. Too brief. Hadn't their life together been too brief? What kind of world had they supported that allowed their perfect marriage and perfect family to be ripped to shreds? When she was released - if she were released, her children would be grown. Alexis and Iris wouldn't even remember her. Would they call Astra mother? Proteus and Caerus - would they remember all the wonderful moments of their childhood with their real parents? Would Hephaestus survive ten years in Azkaban? It was becoming too much for her, and Chloris turned away from the door and put her face in her hands. What had she done? What had she done? Hephaestus' first impulse, when they read out his sentence, had been to laugh and laugh and laugh. Of course they were sending him to Azkaban again. Of course. In the few seconds that followed his verdict, whatever faith he had left in this system, whatever loyalty to these people that had remained after the disastrous events of the past year, was shattered. If he hadn't been a traitor before, they certainly had made him into one now. When they read Chloris' sentence, that urge died in his throat. Every reassurance he'd intended to give her, every promise that they would get through this again, faded, and he was left sitting in numb shock as the session drew to a close. How had things gone so horrifically wrong? he wondered -- and then there was no more time to think, because he was being nudged to his feet. For one horrible moment, he thought they were being carted off without being able to say their -- but no, these were not goodbyes, he thought desperately. They would get through this, they would survive and emerge to pick up the broken threads of their family. They were the Burkes -- look how far they'd climbed. Climbed and then fallen. "Chloris," he was saying before he was even aware of opening his mouth, waiting for the door to creak shut behind him before he closed the distance between them and reached for her hands, movements that were already unsteady made slow and awkward by the chains they had been gifted with. And then he was here. Chloris turned and practically collapsed against him, tears welling in her eyes, "Hephaestus, oh my love, this is all my fault. I am so sorry. I wish- I wish-" She was shaking and her fingertips were tracing the lines on his face, the chains clattering far too loudly, "I cannot survive without you. I cannot. I barely survived a few months without you... how can I-" The tears poured down her face and she began to collapse to the floor, unable to hold herself up anymore. Her strength was leaving her - Hephaestus was leaving her. Chloris would have spilled across the floor if Hephaestus hadn't been gripping her arms. As she sagged with the weight of grief and terror, his grasp tightened and the muscles of his arm bunched until he was pulling her up. "-- mustn't cry," he got out thickly, adjusting his hold on her so that she was better supported. "Please don't cry, liebling," was murmured as he gently touched his forehead to hers. "For my sake." His strength, his arms, his everything made her want to die. How could she live without him? There was just no possible way. She had been in love with him from the moment he kissed her hand in greeting at her debut, had been his from the moment he showed up at the theatre box in Paris and proposed, had known he was her entire life from the moment he looked at her and said, "I do." Living without him was like living without food, water, air. How could she not cry in this moment, when all she wanted was to die? "I am not strong enough," she said weakly, her voice barely able to get past the knot in her throat, "I am not strong enough without you." "Yes, you are." And she was, he knew she was, for she had survived the death of their firstborn, and she had risen and triumphed ever since. This was Chloris, born of the unyielding Lestranges, a strong woman in her own right. Though she would be battered and weary, though she would grow older, she would survive this -- and Hephaestus would not let them take him away until she promised that she would survive this. He needed it from her. "Promise me you will endure," he continued, voice made harsh from the desperation that lay behind the words. "Promise me." "Not unless you promise me we will see each other again. You have to survive all this as well, Hephaestus. If there is the remotest chance that when I see the other side of this you will not be there with me, then it is not worth it." She cupped his face, her eyes searching his for his promise. If they were both determined... maybe they could make it through this. Maybe they could start again, older and wiser. They wouldn't be that old, would they? "How can I endure without knowing you will endure as well?" He nodded once, briefly, feeling his jaw set under the cool touch of her palm. "I promise," he said, praying that he sounded as resolute as she wanted him to be. Ten years? He hadn't recognized himself after one month in that place -- but rather than voice this, he nodded, ready to repeat those two words to her. Then the door opened, followed by the sound of footsteps. His expression hardened, as did his grip on Chloris. "Then I promi-" she looked past him to the door, and tear sprang to her eyes again, "No. No, no, no," she looked to Hephaestus, her eyes pleading for him to do something, to change the next few moments, to make this outcome different. Her gaze flicked to the guard who stood impatiently in the door - a second guard over his shoulder. "P-please..." She looked back at Hephaestus and gripped his shirt in an almost vicelike grip. She leaned up and kissed him, needing this memory, needing his lips on hers. Maybe she would wake up from this nightmare. This wasn't actually happening; Chloris was tucked away at Burke Manor having a nightmare, and Hephaestus was kissing her awake. It had happened before... it could be happening again. "Time's up," the first of the guards was saying as Chloris held him closer. The growl that emerged from his throat was one of fury and hatred, because their time couldn't be over yet. Not yet, he wanted snarl back at the two waiting men with all the anger he had kept at bay until now. But then Chloris was kissing him, and all he could do was return the kiss with a hurried, forceful one of his own. Everything around them faded from thought, for there was only this, only her. And so when forceful hands wrenched Chloris back, a curse and a plea rumbled through him. "-- not yet." Strong arms that were not her husband's wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her away, "No!" she cried out, struggling against her captor's strong fingers that dug into her arms, "Please! Not-" The guard began to 'escort' Hephaestus out, while the second guard kept her restrained, "I love you, Hephaestus. Hephaestus!" They were going to have to lead him out like a dog, because Hephaestus would not turn his back on his wife. His arms, clasped before him and bound, were jerked to the side as the guard gave an insistent pull on the chains, forcing him back by one unsteady step. Then two, three -- but his eyes remained fixed on Chloris. "I love you," he said firmly. He wrenched his arms back down in order to buy a few more seconds. The guard stumbled, and the chain went slack; he took a step forward, saying: "Don't forget, Chloris," only to be halted again as the other man regained his balance and yanked him back with a gruff curse. "Wait, you bastard," Hephaestus bit out even as he was forced through another step, not once letting his gaze slide from the sight of Chloris. "-- Chloris. Chloris. I'm sorry I couldn't prevent this, I'm sorry I couldn't keep our family safe." They were at the door; his voice cracked with the effort it took not to succumb to the panic that twisted in his gut. "I --" "I'll never forget," she struggled and managed to get away from her guard - but was not quick enough and he jerked her back. The panic was suddenly real. This was no dream. This was real and Hephaestus was leaving her. Not of his own accord, no, but he was still leaving her. He was being pulled along, his uneven gait almost giving them a little bit more time. "It's not your fault, Heph-" but then he was pulled out of the room, and she began to scream for him, the guard holding her against his body so she could not escape. She screamed his name again and again, tears pouring down her cheeks, her voice quickly becoming raw from the sheer strength and distress of her cries. There was a distant slam of a door and no more sound in the hall, and Chloris collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, unable to even stand for the guard to lead her out. Anyone who had questioned if she truly had an unstable mind would no longer have any doubt; without Hephaestus, she was a hollow shell of a woman. |