WHO: The Averys! WHAT: An awkward family dinner where Val confronts Dante about something he neglected to tell her & Keats WHEN: 27 February WHERE: the Avery estate! WARNINGS: no, they are very wholesome!!!
It was a typical Avery family dinner: the family gathered around the dining table, engaged in various conversations, while devouring their carefully-prepared dinner. The youngest of the lot, however, had decided to forgo whatever conversation she had been an unwilling participant in (with Freja, naturally) and kept glancing at her oldest brother, whenever she could. Her conversation with Sinistra kept haunting her over the day, but she kept shrugging it off.
But she couldn't keep it in any longer, no. So without much thought to it, Valkyrie spoke out loud. "When's the wedding, Dante? It seems I should be blocking that day out on my calendar." She shot her brother a sweet smile, though her eyes didn't reflect the happiness that her lips did.
Gerald, whose wine glass had been halfway to his lips when Valkyrie spoke, lowered it and cast a glance round the table. Freja, silent. Valkyrie baleful. Keats? He narrowed his eyes in the direction of both his sons.
“Hmmm,” he intoned. “Your mother knows a very good wedding planner. Of course, nothing compared to your sister. But we would want her to be in the wedding party and not lashed to the to-do list.”
His sister’s voice sent a chill down his spine. Dante knew he’d been forgetting about something. Between his responsibilities to the Dark Lord, his job, and Violet, he’d neglected to fill his siblings in on his life.
At least they weren’t that behind, he thought, not that it would make much of a difference to Val, with the way she was glaring daggers at him.
Dante looked from his sister to his father and back. He really wanted to look at Keats for back-up, but he should probably not be a coward. “Dad’s right, you should get to enjoy it, not be tied up in making sure everything’s perfect,” he deflected. Okay, so he was a coward.
Keats, however, was unable to contain his surprise. He dropped his fork; it clattered against the fine china. “Pardon me? When was this decided?” he asked, wondering if he was the only member of the family that had been left out of this particular discussion.
Val smiled at Keats this time and gestured towards Dante. "Apparently it's going to be a destination wedding, as well, Keats! Isn't that exciting?" Her attention flickered towards their father momentarily before it shifted to Dante. "Will it be in the Italian countryside? They have the most beautiful vineyards, though," she paused, giggling as she reached for her wine. "I suppose Violet can't enjoy it much right now."
"Valkyrie, that's enough," Freja warned, in a simple yet hushed tone. Her daughter, however, merely settled for rolling her eyes.
Gerald merely arched a brow and turned to his eldest. “Explain.”
“Right, because wine is the most important thing,” Dante snapped, narrowing his eyes.
Merlin, would he ever get any part of this right? He sighed. “She wants --” But then he cut himself off. Keats and Val deserved an explanation -- an apology -- before he went head-to-head with their father. If he could get them on his side, maybe facing their father wouldn’t be so daunting. “She’s agreed to marry me,” he explained, trying to look suitably contrite. “We just hadn’t settled on when. But it’s only been in the last two weeks we’ve been talking about this, so neither of you have been out of the loop for long. It’s --” Dante laughed, dryly. “Hardly romantic. And it’s not like she wanted to go public yet and take all the attention off your party, Val. And then all that happened…” He was floundering, a little. “It’s been a lot.” He looked at their father then. “She suggested going abroad so the Order wouldn’t attack it. I think it’s smart. They’ll jump at the first chance they get to sabotage this, so we’ll have to do it quietly without making a big scene of it, anyway.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Keats said, though it was hard for him not to look a little hurt that he was only finding out about this now. Still, he understood Dante’s reasoning, and he hesitated for a moment before trying to diffuse some of the tension at the table. He raised his glass. “Congratulations!” he said. “I do love weddings.”
Val threw her immediate-older brother a look of pure exasperation, but she couldn't fault him for being so … well, Keats. She mimicked his raising of his wine glass and turned to Dante, "Might want to tell Violet that she doesn't want to go public. Because she wasn't the one that told me about this. But hey! Congratulations!"
“ … Dante can do what he likes with his young bride,” Gerald contemplated, sitting back and saluting his eldest son with his glass of wine. “Though I do not think you should count your immediate family on both sides from your destination wedding or announcing your intentions to society. You can throw off the nasty vigilante element by going one place and saying you are going to another.” He paused, eyes darkening.
“However, I will not have the name of Avery bandied about negatively. Fix this. All of you.”
“Merlin, honestly, this is the most --”
Dante waved a hand desperately, struggling to figure out how he kept on managing to make a mess out of this. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. (Of course it wasn’t, a nagging voice inside him said.) “I don’t know what any of you want from me,” he muttered, “besides Keats, who can at least manage to keep his disappointment to himself. I’m sorry, okay? I forgot, I’ve been busy, and we’re still sorting out what exactly we want to do, and if that’s not good enough, then… then I don’t know, Val. Father, may I be excused? I have some property to buy, and I’d like to get on that sooner rather than later.” That was mostly just an excuse to flee, and he assumed everyone at the table would be able to figure it out, but he didn’t care.
“No, you may not be excused. We are going to sit and discuss this honestly.” Freja, however, buried her face in her hands while Gerald steepled his fingers.
“Should we all say how we feel? Dante, I don’t care what you do with your little bride but I care what society thinks about our family. We should be revered and feared. If we cannot be feared, we may as well be respected. I am not angry or disappointed. But I would like to get ahead of the fem …” he coughed. “ … gossip machine.”
"I don't think I'm being a particular nuisance by asking to be informed of major decisions in the family, Dante," Val hissed at her brother, and she finally lowered her wine glass, setting it carefully on the table. "I'm not even sure who Violet informed, of this…," horrible decision, she finished the thought in her head. "But it is a bit embarrassing to be thrown off the loop and be asked about it when I genuinely didn't have an idea."
She paused for a moment, before downing the rest of her drink in one gulp. "But by all means," she waved her free hand. "Go buy properties." She ignored her mother's sharp glare.
Keats, looking highly uncomfortable and more than slightly upset, interjected, his smile weak, “This is a lovely dinner. Is this a new recipe?”
A House Elf piped up from the corner. “Master Keats is so kind to notice little Mopsy! Mopsy has been working on it …” Freja silenced the elf with snapped fingers and went back to glaring at her daughter.
Dante wanted to say he thought Violet would have told Val herself, but he bit his tongue and focused on finishing the rest of his glass instead, looking at anything but the members of his immediate family. Maybe Val prefered it when he was locked up in Azkaban.
That, too, he kept to himself.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he finally admitted, shoulders sagging. It was unusual for him to own up to that in front of their father. “I’m trying to make her happy, but beyond that…” He shook his head. “No idea. So I’d appreciate some help instead of whatever this was.” Valkyrie flinched, frowning just a bit.
Gerald’s voice was gentle -- “This is your family trying to help you. We’re not very good at it.” Well, Keats was doing quite all right. He spared a glance for Val. “But we do love you and, honestly, we’re all very proud of you.”
After a pause, he sat up and gave them all a cavalier smile.
“Let’s have Violet over to make a plan. In the meantime, Valkyrie darling. I know you can use your considerable talents to ensure that nothing untoward is said about your brother or his bride to be.”
"Of course I won't," Valkyrie said, her tone resigned. "I would never."
She turned to Dante again, this time a little less aggressive, and genuinely smiled. "I'm sorry, okay? I probably shouldn't have made a scene…," she trailed off, hiding her smirk. "But I'll help with whatever you want me to."
Finally, her attention focused on her other brother. "Both Keats and I will. Yeah?"
Keats nodded immediately. “I’ll help in whichever way would be best.” he agreed, before turning again to his brother. “I really am happy for you.”
For some reason, none of this felt a whole lot like pride or love, and maybe that was because their father was forcing them to mind him and each other. He didn’t know. But Dante shoved that down and tried to smile, reaching out to put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Yeah, I know you are.”
Their father had a good idea about inviting Violet over. “I’ll ask her over. It’s getting to be time, anyway. To plan it.” It was a bit daunting, truthfully. Actually planning it out, actually deciding on a date, that was all going to make it real in a way that it hadn’t been yet. “We’ve been talking about names?” he continued, hoping to swing the conversation back to something happier, even if that terrified him too. “But those I’m definitely keeping to myself for now. Of course, suggestions are welcome. But I want some things to be a surprise, at least.”
Gerald had a thousand suggestions, most of which revolved in some way around Mary Shelley. But instead of intoning Wollstonecraft as a name for a baby, he merely smiled. His children were working together and making their way in the world. All would be well.
Names.
That felt all the more real but Val forced herself to keep smiling, because she didn't need to freak out further and cause a second scene on the same night. Instead, she looked at her plate, grabbed her fork and continued to eat, as though she didn't have anything else to add to the conversation.