effie yaxley (euphemia) wrote in cultureic, @ 2016-11-23 21:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | elsie flint, euphemia yaxley |
WHO: Effie Yaxley & Elsie Flint
WHEN: November 23, late evening
WHERE: St Mungo's
SUMMARY: Elsie wakes up.
WARNINGS: Conversations about violence
Hospital rooms were stupid. And so were most of the reasons a person wound up in one. Elsie’s reason for being there, as far as Effie was concerned, was a stupid one. Effie was still sat at Elsie’s bedside anyway, pretending to be engrossed in her phone. But her stupid eyes kept drifting to the stupid bed while she waited for her stupid girlfriend to wake up and even the most subtle rustle of the sheet made her jump to attention. Effie was feeling a lot of things about what had happened, but she’d decided fixating on the stupidity of the whole situation was the best course of action. It wasn’t like she was going to cry when Josie could come in at any moment. Josie was spooked enough. (Effie was feeling spooked, too, but that was really just beside the point.) When one rustle turned into several, Effie watched Elsie’s face closely. She couldn’t quite manage to stifle her relief when Elsie’s eyes fluttered open and she looked a little lost for a moment. All at once, though, she remembered she was furious with Elsie and her eyes went flinty. “Hello,” she said petulantly. When Effie came into view, Elsie’s first reaction was to smile. Her throat was bandaged and she’d had enough blood replenishing potions in the last few hours to restore some of her strength, but pain potions and general disorientation meant it took her a moment to gain her bearings. She remembered where she was. She remembered how she’d gotten there. And then she saw the look on Effie’s face and her smile faded. “Hey,” she replied, her trepidation obvious. “Is it still Wednesday?” “Why?” Effie asked with a sniff that she pretended was disdainful, but wasn’t. “Do you have another murder scheduled for this evening?” “No, of course not. How many surprise murders do you think I can do in one day?” Elsie wrinkled her nose and lifted herself up onto her elbows to get a better look at the clock. “I just meant — how long have I been unconscious?” “It’s still Wednesday,” Effie answered finally. She sat up straighter in her chair, sweeping her eyes over Elsie while she tried to ignore her growing anguish. Her eyes caught on the bandage at Elsie’s throat and, reflexively, her hand went to her own throat. Her voice sounded tight when she added, “You know, you almost died. You should probably be laying down.” Elsie opened her mouth to protest — she felt fine, everything was fine — but she shut it again and laid back down instead. A beat passed before she answered, “I’m alive, though. So alive.” She grinned again in an attempt to be reassuring. “I’m fine!” But nothing about this was reassuring. Effie fixated on Elsie’s grin for the moment, too worked up to consider she was on pain potions. “You promised me, Elsie,” she said, her jaw clenched around the words. “You promised me wouldn’t die.” “I didn’t die,” Elsie said, knowing it wasn’t quite what Effie’d meant. “I’m right here.” “This time,” Effie snapped. There were few people who could make her feel as guilty as Effie. There were few people who could make her feel small — often when she needed the reality check. Elsie had nothing to say in her own defense. “Sorry,” she said finally, glancing down at her toes. “Whatever,” Effie said, like it barely mattered, even flapping a hand dismissively. And then, because it did matter, she quickly added, “I just wish you’d think about Accio. How do you think he’d feel if you got yourself killed? He’d be an orphan.” “He’d have you,” Elsie pointed out, as if that covered all the silver linings needed to address her point. “You’d take good care of him.” “But he wants you,” Effie insisted sharply. Elsie bit her lip, shrugging a shoulder. “He still has me!” “Well, he wishes you wouldn’t put yourself in danger,” Effie said, her eyes finally sliding away from Elsie to stare down at her own lap. She lowered her hand, which she hadn’t realized was still wrapped around her throat, and smoothed her skirt over her knees. “We’re talking about Beth Proudfoot, the actual opposite of a dangerous person,” Elsie said, barely containing a sneer. “She just got lucky this time.” And she’d been stupid. Effie’s head snapped up and she glared at Elsie’s throat. “Clearly Proudfoot is more dangerous than you thought she was,” she shot back, meeting Elsie’s eye now. “She’s Robin’s sister. Who’s to say Robin hasn’t been training her? And you killed her boyfriend. That would make anyone angry enough to do something rash. I feel like finding her and throttling her myself right now.” “She just got lucky,” Elsie insisted, shaking her hand dismissively at the suggestion that she’d been training with her sister. “If she’s been training with someone who knows what they’re doing, then she’s genuinely hopeless. It was so easy to get her right where I wanted her.” “Elsie! You’re in the hospital!” Effie hadn’t really been thinking about standing up, but after a beat she realized she was on her feet, standing over Elsie’s bed yelling at her. “Now isn’t the time to brag about getting Beth where you wanted her. You lost!” “I —” Elsie bit back her response, and shifted nervously on the mattress beneath her. She chanced a look at Effie before deciding she couldn’t handle seeing her girlfriend angry at her. She was barely ever angry with her, let alone angry enough to shout. She stared down at the foot of her bed and said, petulantly, “It won’t happen again.” Next time she wouldn’t lose. “I know what you actually mean when you say that,” Effie snapped, her fists going to her hips. “Well, it won’t!” Elsie tossed up her hands before she folded her arms across her chest and sunk down in her seat. “Next time I’ll just kill her the second I see her.” “I —” But what Effie had to say wasn’t something she could say standing there so she let her hands fall limply to her sides and then sank just as limply into her chair. Quietly, she finished, “I wish you wouldn’t.” “You wish I wouldn’t kill her?” Elsie’s brow creased with confusion as she turned her gaze back up at Effie. “Why not? She’s the enemy.” “The enemy,” Effie repeated skeptically. “Bethany Proudfoot, who probably shits rainbows and puppies, is the enemy. Do you even realize how — I think this whole thing is stupid.” “It’s not stupid!” Elsie sat up, her voice getting louder. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “How can you say that? I’m making the world a better place. You should be proud of me!” “It’s stupid,” Effie insisted, her voice getting louder, too. “I’m proud of you when you’re smart and clever. Not when you’re wearing a stupid mask and casting stupid dark marks and killing stupid people for stupid reasons.” She looked down, wringing her hands in her lap. “I just don’t see how the world is actually a better place if you’re not in it.” Elsie’s annoyance didn’t quite dissipate, but when Effie looked down, she stopped herself from shouting something else about how her work for the Dark Lord was anything but stupid. She sank back into her pillow and cast her eyes at the ceiling. After a long pause, she said, “It’s going to take a lot more than some stupid vigilante to kill me.” “Elsie, you’re in the hospital,” Effie said, sounding defeated. “You almost died today. You got lucky.” But she hadn’t just gotten lucky. Beth had almost killed her, had seemed ready to leave her to die. And then she hadn’t. She was the reason Elsie was still alive. Also the reason she’d nearly died. They cancelled each other out. Elsie owed her nothing. Except maybe the killing curse she hadn’t had the chance to cast. “I’m fine, though,” Elsie said finally, giving her best attempt at a smile. “See?” “What happens when your luck runs out, though?” Effie asked. “I’m not fine, Elsie. I don’t want to lose you. And I almost did today. I don’t know if you don’t get that or if you just don’t care, but I do care.” “I know, I know. I get it.” Elsie’s smile fell and she let out a heavy sigh before she pulled her covers over her head. From beneath them, she added a muffled, “I’m sorry.” Effie let Elsie’s apology hang in the air for a long moment, staring down at Elsie’s covers and willing herself not to cry in the stupid hospital. She took a deep breath and reached for where she thought Elsie’s hand might be. “I’m glad you’re okay, though,” she mumbled. Elsie snaked her hand out from beneath the covers to take Effie’s. Another moment passed and she peeked around the hem at her. “Hey, Eff?” “Yes, Winks?” She shifted in her bed to make room for her. Then turning down one corner of the covers, she gave her an expectant look. The minutest of smiles twitched at the corners of Effie’s lips and she slid her feet out of her shoes so she could climb into bed with Elsie. Once she was settled in under the covers, on her side facing Elsie, she murmured, “I love you.” Elsie grinned back at her, reaching for her hand again to lace their fingers together. “I love you too,” she said quietly, tilting her head closer. “You’re like, really pretty. Even when you're like, really wrong about the Death Eaters.” Effie sighed. “Elsie.” “But like, so pretty,” she said, a potion-induced drawl in her voice. “I’m going to learn how to paint so I can give you a portrait of yourself for Christmas.” “Oh yeah?” Effie asked, biting back another sigh. She was deciding to let it go for now. But this and everything else that had happened to the people she loved had left a bitter taste in her mouth where the Death Eaters were concerned. “Can it be a nude? I’ll pose for you.” “Um, yes,” Elsie said with a giggle that reminded her how hurt her throat had been. With a quiet cough, she recovered and grinned. “You can hang it in your living room.” “Maybe you should get some more rest,” Effie said, her brow furrowed with concern. She brought their hands up under her chin so she could swipe her thumb over Elsie’s jaw. “We can talk more about my portrait later.” “Okay,” Elsie answered, moving Effie’s hand close enough to press her lips to her knuckles. “You’ll still be here?” Effie leaned in to press a kiss to Elsie’s forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.” Elsie stifled a yawn before she answered, fading gradually. “Good, cause I still need to tell you about the look on Bethany’s face.” “I might pretend to find it funny,” Effie said, brushing Elsie’s hair away from her forehead. When Effie was sure Elsie was asleep, she took a deep shaky breath, the only concession to crying she was willing to make. And then, because no one was there who’d hear her, she whispered, “I think the Dark Lord is stupid.” |