What Would Rhys Cadwallader Do? (cymru) wrote in disorderic, @ 2018-03-01 18:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | nora cadwallader, rhys cadwallader |
WHO: Nora & Rhys Cadwallader.
WHAT: A long and arduous process.
WHEN: Full moon to full moon - January 31st to March 1st.
WHERE: The Gentle Green.
WARNINGS: Kinda gross.
January 31 A super blue blood moon. It was an auspicious way to start, or an ominous one. Nora couldn't decide which. She stared at the mandrake leaves before them, freshly cut and thoroughly cleaned. The moonlight shone down on them, but cloud cover threatened to ruin their plans if they waited too long. It was now, or wait until the next full moon, and that already seemed ages away. Deep breaths. "Are you sure about this?" Rhys looked from the leaves to Nora, then gave her a determined nod. “I’m sure. Are you sure?” "I'm sure," she said. She slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze. "Here goes." February 2 Rhys stood in front of the bathroom mirror, wrinkling his nose as he awkwardly tried to brush around a two-day old mandrake leaf. “This tastes even worse with toothpaste,” he said, before carefully spitting and rinsing. "I arafgna—" Nora's careful turns with her own toothbrush muffled her words. She was getting very sick of the taste of mandrake leaf. No wonder there were so few Animagi. Once most of the toothpaste had made its way into the sink, she sighed and tried to rinse out her mouth without actually swallowing the thing. "Maybe we should have orange juice next, really ruin the whole taste altogether." He made a face. “That sounds delicious,” he teased, then leaned in for a kiss. She returned the kiss almost instinctively, but made a face of her own as realization struck. "Oh, no…" Rhys covered his mouth, looking sheepish. “And that’s with toothpaste,” he cringed. "Mine too," Nora said, mirroring him like she could protect him from her breath that way. "Oh, no, this is going to be the worst month…" February 6 At the end of the day, Nora insisted they both needed to get some sleep. The initial shock had dulled into an ache as the hours dragged on, filled with phone calls to funeral homes and friends, sifting through old photos and finding the right music. It was exhausting, dispiriting work and they needed to sleep. But neither of them was sleeping. Nora shifted herself to face her husband as Pea, down at her feet, hummed a little and padded around for a new place to sleep. "Hey," she said softly. “Hey,” Rhys replied, equally gentle. He rolled over to face her, careful to not disturb Carrot sleeping near the edge of the bed. He reached over to drape a comforting arm over her, massaging her back. “Are you okay?” he asked her, though he could already guess at the answer. Even Nora's shrug was half-hearted. She pushed the mandrake leaf against the inside of her cheek so she could say more (why wouldn't it just stay there?). "I'm okay," she said, unconvincingly. "Are you? I mean, are we going to be able to handle … everything?" “I think we’ll be fine,” Rhys said, also unconvinced. Who knew what would happen between now and the funeral? And if unwelcome guests showed up at the funeral, then what? He frowned, stopping himself. He didn’t want to start thinking about that again, so focused instead on tonguing the mandrake leaf in his own cheek, which had partially wedged itself between his teeth. He wrinkled his nose as he tried to get it out. “It will all be over before we know it,” he said finally. "It's that leaf, isn't it," Nora said, watching Rhys's face contort as he tried to deal with it. It was also an easier topic. "I've got the same … like when it gets in your teeth and you can't … are you sure you want to keep going? We could try it another month when we're not … when things have calmed down a little." “It’s disgusting, isn’t it?” Rhys grumbled, as he finally managed to wriggle the leaf into a better spot. “You can stop if you like. I’d understand. It was kind of a dumb idea to begin with, probably.” He gave her a reassuring smile, not wanting her to feel obligated to humour him, especially while tragedy and misfortune remained a constant. He paused for a moment, contemplative, before adding, a touch stubbornly, “I don’t know if there’ll ever be a good time, though. I might keep at it a little longer. It’s not like I have much else to do.” "It's not a dumb idea," Nora assured him. And he was right, there might never be a good time. Six days in, that was almost a quarter of the way done, after all. They could keep adjusting. And this was so important to Rhys. "We can keep going. We just have to make sure we're careful." “We’re very careful,” Rhys said, confident in that much, at least. “And if anything comes up, we stop. We can both stop. It’s okay.” But Nora wasn't going to be responsible for taking away another thing Rhys cared about, that he was so excited about. "Okay," she said, but she would find a way to make this work. February 12 Rhys gently tossed Pea to Nora with a chuckle. “I love that they love this. They’re so easy-going. Must be nice.” The puffskein let out a contented hum as it sailed the short distance to the other end of the couch. It was difficult to be unhappy around such adorable, cheerful creatures. "I hope we're both puffskeins," Nora said. She snuggled Pea for a moment while he squirmed and prodded for another chance to glide through the air. "Oh, okay fine, you spoiled thing." She tossed him back to Rhys. "I know I said I didn't want to get our hopes up about a specific creature and I mean it, but I really do. Life seems so easy for a puffskein." Rhys caught Pea and gave him a smooch on top of his adorable little head. “I hope so, too! These little guys have the best life—don’t you, you little munchkin?” Rhys cooed, before tossing him back. “We’d make the most adorable puffskeins. We could just hang out puffling all the time. It’d be well-worth it, I think.” "I don't think anybody would even notice a difference," Nora laughed. Rhys grinned. “Good, then no-one will suspect a thing!” Carrot plodded her way into the room and Pea jumped off Nora's lap to go chase his sister around. "Maybe if we think about it hard enough, it'll just happen." “Maybe!” Rhys said, unable to suppress a smile as the two puffballs frolicked around the room. “I mean, the Sorting Hat takes your preferences into consideration, so why not this, too? Also, I’ve heard of Patronuses matching, so who knows?” "Only what, seventeen more days and a lightning storm until we know!" Nora said. "I'm being optimistic about how soon until we get a lightning storm. There are plenty of storms in March, right?" “Of course! One of the many benefits of living in Wales,” Rhys joked. “When isn’t it raining? What if we turn into that sad, melted puffskein from that Wiztube video? Just a couple of puddles of puffskein.” "At least we'll be clean?" “True! It’ll be nice to feel clean after a month’s worth of bad breath,” Rhys said, just as Pea and Carrot clambered back into his lap, begging for another round of catch. February 19 Nora brushed her hair through again, then started on the braid she always used to wear on workdays. It was her first day starting back at St. Mungo's. She'd gotten up early, slipped out of bed and let Rhys sleep a little longer while her mind raced with excitement and nerves. She checked her hair in the mirror as she went through a mental checklist for the day. There wasn't any reason to be nervous; she was a responding mediwitch for a decade, and things couldn't have changed that much. Still. She continued through the list as she brushed her teeth, barely giving the action a second thought. She spat out the foamy toothpaste and rinsed out her mouth. Then stared at the little green shape plastered against the bowl of the sink. Almost three weeks in, the leaf had become second nature to Nora. She managed to eat and talk with it, had brushed her teeth dozens of times without incident. And now, there it was, stuck to white porcelain. Three weeks of work down the drain. So to speak. She and Rhys spent enough time researching what could go wrong and how to avoid issues; she knew this was unsalvageable. She wasn't going to risk a botched Animagus transfiguration by pretending nothing had gone wrong. A feeling washed over her. It took some moments to realize that it was relief. Becoming an Animagus was Rhys's dream, and she supported it, but maybe it wasn't something she wanted for herself. There was too much else to worry about. She didn't need to jump back into her old job splitting her concentration like that. She could always try again later. She wouldn't tell Rhys; not yet. It meant so much to him, and she didn't want him even to consider abandoning the project just because she'd had to. The idea of lying to him put a pit in her stomach, but, she reasoned, it was for the best. She picked up the leaf and crumbled it between her fingers, then washed the pulp it created down the drain. February 21 With only a week left before this leg of the process was complete, Rhys was both eager and apprehensive. After over a year of mostly being defined by what he no longer was, he was excited at the prospect of finding out what he could be. Perhaps he, like his Patronus, would be a bear—big, brave, and better able to protect his home and his family. Or a hawk: sharp-eyed and free, able to come and go as he pleased. Perhaps, if they were lucky, he and Nora would turn into something that would enable them to go on adventures together, or escape any precarious situations they found themselves in. There was, of course, the chance that his animal form would turn out to be useless, or something would cause his transformation to go awry, but Rhys chose to ignore that possibility. After all they’d suffered, he felt as though they were due for a win. For Rhys, the most exciting prospect of all was proving to himself that he still had the brains and talent—Auror or not—to accomplish something interesting. It wouldn’t change the world, but it could, at least, be the start of something new. For now, however, it was stacks of old books and parchment, and saliva-soaked leaves. At least he didn’t have to get through this slog alone. Nora would be home shortly. He tidied the office and cleared away his notes. He had dinner to finish and wanted to make sure she knew that all of her hard work and tireless support was appreciated. March 1 Nora's potions work was meticulous. She collected and purchased the best ingredients (which wasn’t easy—dew that had not seen the sun or been touched by human feet? Really?). She measured carefully and kept exact time. And, just in time for the next full moon, it was ready. Now, she just had to tell Rhys that he would be doing this alone. That prospect made Nora almost as nervous as the Animagus process itself. “It’s about fifteen minutes until the moon is at the best spot,” she said, studying a moon chart she’d found online. Rhys looked up at the moon, his face lit up with boyish glee. He shifted himself on the tree stump he was perched on in order to get a better view. “Brilliant! Are you excited? I think I had a dream about mouthwash last night.” Nora’s face screwed into something inscrutable. She couldn’t put this off any longer. “Rhys, I need to tell you something.” He looked at her, his expression grave. “If this is about your breath, I already know.” he teased. “I don’t have my leaf anymore,” she said, feeling ashamed. “I lost it when I was brushing my teeth the other day.” Rhys raised a confused eyebrow, unsure if she was joking or not. “Really?” he asked, though judging by her expression, she was telling the truth. His own expression turned slightly sheepish, and—because he didn’t want her to feel bad about it—he added, “So you’ve had mouthwash-fresh breath all this time and you didn’t even use it to gloat at me? That seems like a missed opportunity.” He cracked a smile to show he was only teasing and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Nora’s expression softened, but she couldn’t quite laugh. “I didn’t want you to feel like you should have to quit just because I screwed up.” “You didn’t screw up,” Rhys said automatically, his smile unfaltering. “You can always try again later. Or not. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do just because I want to. I’m sorry if I like, pressured you or anything.” "I definitely did screw up," Nora said. Relief finally set in, though, and at least she could smile about it. "But for now, let's just focus on getting this right for you. And then getting you some mouthwash. Like, immediately." Rhys laughed. “That’s completely fair,” he said, looking up again to check the position of the moon. “Hopefully, I become a puffskein so that I can help you eat more spiders around the house. Phial’s ready? At least, if nothing else, I can trust that your potions work is impeccable.” "Oh, babe, just because you're a puffskein doesn't mean you have to eat spiders! Plus, that's not going to help the me wanting to kiss problem!" “Hmmm, that’s also fair. No spiders,” Rhys grinned, then gave her a peck on the cheek anyway. “One last gross kiss for luck.” Nora squished up her face like she was grossed out, but really, she was excited for him. She kissed him back. "Good luck." |