gawain robards (embattle) wrote in disorderic, @ 2018-01-02 13:54:00 |
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Dressed immaculately and looking the full part of the Wizengamot representative, Gawain arrived in the chambers early, but not too early. Suffice to say he was on edge, although he tried not to have that show. There was little doubt in his mind that his adversaries would try something, and he doubted it would stop at the notice he’d received that the physical location of his chair had been moved. Moved next to the seat he strongly assumed belonged to Dolores Umbridge. But it wasn’t Umbridge that Gawain was worried about as he made his way through the aisles to his assigned location, no. He presumed that Hugo Nott and the rest of his ilk would have something to say about it, and as such he kept one hand on his wand. He wouldn’t put it past them to try and assassinate him on his first day on the job in the middle of everyone even if he doubted that’d be their first plan. Inwardly, he sighed heavily when he approached his seat to see it occupied. It wasn’t by Nott, either. His lips formed a tight line indicating his displeasure. “Bellatrix,” he greeted tersely. “You’re in my seat.” Bellatrix had her feet kicked up on the seat in front of her and her arms folded across her chest. She didn’t move when Gawain approached her — wands would be on him in an instant if he tried anything untoward. “Yes, well,” she said, raising her eyebrows at him. “You’re in my Wizengamot.” “How juvenile,” Gawain answered flatly, eyes shifting ever so slightly to take in the continual movement of people walking through the chamber. “It’s not your Wizengamot, nor Ministry, nor anything, Bellatrix.” “I think you’ll find it is, actually,” she said, motioning to the room and the empty seats around them. “You’re the only one here who refuses to get with the picture. None of this is yours anymore.” Gawain didn’t follow her pointless gesture. In theory, yes, she was correct and he knew that, but he was also very aware that the ship merely needed to be righted once more. “Yes, I refuse to go along with your subterfuge and subversive actions.” He dropped his voice less he start a panic. “Thicknesse under Imperius was a bold move,” the Auror challenged. Bellatrix braced herself against the arms of his chair to sit up straighter. A smirk spread across her features. “That can be arranged for you, Gawain. I’m sure you’d enjoy it.” “Undoubtedly,” he deadpanned, refusing to give her the satisfaction. “Wouldn’t that be a touch boring for you?” “Would you rather I torture you?” She didn’t hide her eagerness at the idea. “Because that would certainly keep me entertained.” “I’d rather you get out of my seat and let me help govern Britain back to where it ought to be.” Gawain gave her a pointed look. “Your amusement got you nowhere last time. Did your master never tell you not to play with your food?” “No,” she said simply, unfazed by the taunting. She leaned forward in the seat and kept her voice low. “He likes to watch.” There was a beat as Gawain processed that comment in a direction he wasn’t sure was actually worse than the way the Death Eater had intended it. His mood soured further nonetheless, and his patience ebbed. “You’re truly depraved, and I will see you back in prison. You can sit here and laugh; you can ride your tide as high as you want to, but know in the end this will come crashing down.” He thought about simply banishing her from the chair, but removed that thought from his mind as soon as it came; starting a fight here would end with him being badly outnumbered. “Are you done?” “I have a message for you, actually. And you’re going to want to hear this,” she said, ignoring the rest of the hot air coming out of his mouth. She slipped her wand out of her pocket and rolled the shaft of it between her fingers. “I could kill you right here, right now. I could torture you and who would stop me? I could cast a single spell and you’d be pliant. You’d have no choice.” She leaned back in the chair and her grip on the wand loosened, letting it rest in the crook of her thumb, the tip of it pointed carelessly in Gawain’s direction. “Every day you show your face here, you’ll be in danger. Every time you open your mouth to protest, I’ll know where to find you. You’re making it awfully easy.” Gawain tensed when Bellatrix retrieved her wand, and as subtly as he could manage his fingers and palm tightened around the hand of his own buried in his pocket. His weight shifted to his right leg in case he needed to pivot and fight off an attack from another direction as the Death Eater before him made no move to actually start a fight. Taut lips parted as Robards forced a civil reaction. “My dear Bellatrix,” he began, eyeing her sharply. “You’ve known where to find me since you were broken out of Azkaban.” He let that sink in before adding, “Yet here we are. You sent a child to kill me instead.” Gawain wasn’t willing to back down. If he did here and now in these chambers how could he hope to change anything or fight the stranglehold of fears permeating the nation? “He wasn’t alone,” Bellatrix said, watching the shift in his demeanor and tightening her grip on her wand, lest he get any funny ideas about using his. “Next time, you won’t be so lucky, Gawain. You’re fighting a losing battle.” She motioned to the room. “You won’t convince anyone here to follow you.” The tension in the room grew palpable as both Gawain and Bellatrix steeled themselves for the other to throw spells. “I’m aware. It didn’t work out well for the others, either, for am I still breathing with a victory in the election.” Which was only the start of things. Bellatrix had a point, of course — convincing the rest of the Wizengamot to go along with his reforms was a whole different story. Gawain’s eyes swept over the room; everyone was watching them by this point. He forced himself to relax some, wand loosening in his grip less of course he push the Death Eater into an open fight. “We’ll have to see about that, on both points then.” “This is your last chance,” Bellatrix said, rising from her seat and standing at her full height in front of him. “The choice is yours. Play by our rules, or prepare to reunite with your sister.” She gave him a look of feigned sympathy that seemed more taunting than compassionate. “It’ll be touching, I’m sure.” Gawain didn’t shy away from the posturing of the Death Eater, and held his head high even as she stood up. “We already know I’m not going to play by Death Eater rules, Bellatrix, but thank you for the warning.” He looked disgusted at the very notion. His sister, he knew, wouldn’t have stood for this either. “Your compassion is inspiring.” Bellatrix was beginning to lose her patience, particularly as other Wizengamot members began filtering into the chamber. They stood on the floor, watching fearfully rather than taking their seats. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now.” “Why, you’d make me a martyr.” There were many things Gawain could have said, but that was the most true. His death in the middle of a Wizengamot session, with everyone watching, would propagate fear as much as inspire. “But, you’ll have to excuse me,” he said, glancing around to see the frightened members and pages unable to tear their gazes away from the confrontation. “Session is starting soon.” He made to push by her. But Bellatrix held her ground, refusing to move out of his way. “You’d inspire all these fools to get themselves killed?” She shook her head. “So much for being a man of the people.” “No, I’d inspire them to band together in the face of adversity, as Tinworth has done, because they’re stronger than you and your ilk when working together.” “I never took you for someone so naive,” Bellatrix sneered. “You’ll only inspire them to queue up for their deaths.” “Thank you for the compliment,” Gawain answered dryly. “Then I suppose for everyone’s sake I’d best stay alive, wouldn’t you say?” The words didn’t quite match the feeling that Bellatrix was likely correct; untrained witches and wizards wouldn’t stand too much of a chance if Death Eaters came calling. Bellatrix cause a glance at the crowd gathering across the room. “These people know I’d happily kill them if they stepped out of line,” she said and demonstrated her point by lifting her wand. Those standing closest to them flinched and moved to hide behind the others. She laughed. “You’re on your own.” Gawain inwardly swore as he saw the assembled crowd recoil from Bellatrix’s proclamation — entirely true and not simply a hollow boast as everyone was well aware — and he knew then that her change in tactics, a message for the masses and not for him, had done loads. One member even nodded at Bellatrix’s last statement. And what was worse is that the Auror couldn’t even refute her last words, and he couldn’t be everywhere at once. “You’ve proven yourself to be a psychopath, yes. We triumphed once, we’ll do it again. Everyone will see and remember that.” Hopefully. Bellatrix kept laughing. “Your campaign slogans won’t help you here.” Bristling at the laughter rather than the words, Gawain folded his arms across his chest looking as unimpressed as he felt. “You’re the only one campaigning right now.” “Are you saying you won’t try to talk any of these people into changing their votes?” Her expression remained one of amusement. “Because it won’t work. They’re smarter than you.” “That’s rather my job now, to be fair,” Gawain retorted, expression morphing into a full on scowl. “I’ll simply be doing it more civilly than waving my wand around issuing death threats.” Would they agree with him even remotely in the face of this? He wasn’t sure. “They’re certainly smart enough to know that living like this isn’t truly living no matter how much fear you throw at them.” He’d tensed again, grip tightening on his wand despite himself. Bellatrix Lestrange had a way of getting under anyone’s skin. “It’ll only get better with people like you out of the way,” she said. “All this conflict, all this tension. These people agree it’s unnecessary. They’re helping us keep the peace.” Gawain couldn’t hide his flash of irritation, “Please, no one is buying the fact that Death Eaters and their insipid ‘lord’ aren’t the cause of all the conflict, violence, and tension.” He ground his teeth. “You don’t believe that, either.” “We’re doing what’s best for everyone, growing pains aside,” Bellatrix said, smirking again. “I’d never encourage the sort of recklessness you’ve been supporting.” “This isn’t growing pains,” Gawain snapped, incensed in the face of all this. “If you’re truly not looking to cause any tension I suggest you leave, but we all know that’s a lie.” “I’m looking to remind you that tension won’t be tolerated.” Her tone took on a warning note again. “Do as you say, not as you do?” “Or both.” Bellatrix shrugged. “The Death Eaters are always recruiting, if you’re interested.” Affronted, Gawain looked incredulous. “I resolutely decline, naturally.” “That’s a shame,” she said, shaking her head as though she’d been holding out some hope of it happening. “But you still have some decisions to make.” She gave him an even stare. “The next move is yours.” “Yes, I’m sure you’re very disappointed,” Gawain retorted, heat ebbing away from his voice. For his part he stared right back at the Death Eater — his former classmate — unflinching. “For once we’re in agreement then. It certainly is my move.” “Choose it wisely,” she said, despite knowing he wouldn’t. But she’d said all she’d come to say, so she shoved past him, leaving him to his unoccupied seat. Over her shoulder, she added, “Oh, and I’ve made your chair a touch more comfortable for you. You’re welcome.” “I will,” he answered defiantly, and then pushed his way towards the seat as Bellatrix made to leave. He froze when he she mentioned doing something to the seat in front of him, and then his wand was up, weaving through the air with diagnostic spells. He sighed heavily, tried thrice to remove the butt-itching curse, and found that it was woven more deeply than he had time for. More to the point, representative Gawain Robards was not about to let Bellatrix Lestrange scare him from his physical seat after her display. Gawain sat down wearily regardless ready for his first Wizengamot session. Even as his rear-end itched. As Bellatrix swept toward the door, the Wizengamot staff scattered, some scrambling to get out of her way. She paused long enough to see the former Auror wave his wand over the chair, then with a laugh, she was gone. At least for now. |