Who: Tom Riddle (aka TDL, aka Lord Voldemort), Rodolphus Lestrange (aka Toast) What: A duel that's been a long time coming. When: Evening, August 20 Where: Their home. Status: Complete! YAR! *pirate waggle*
Into the night Desperate and broken The sound of a fight Father has spoken
Rodolphus would have never picked a fight with his Master, a man who he, despite the jealousy he felt over the seeming fascination the man had with his wife, respected above most others and had at one time willingly given up his life for. And would very likely do again, if the need arose. But today was not the day to question Rodolphus about his wife. The row they'd had the night before had left him with a bad, nay foul taste in his mouth and he could no longer tell precisely who he was angry at anymore. Last night he was certain it had been her for arguing with and blaming him when he'd only been trying to be kind, to spare her some pain for as long as he possibly could. He'd been angry that his carrying that burden alone for as long as he had wasn't appreciated, not even a little bit. But now he wasn't so sure that he wasn't deserving of the blame despite what he'd said last night, and that, more than anything he could think of right then, pissed him off beyond words.
He was infuriated that his Lord had questioned him repeatedly about what was wrong with Bella, and irrationally, his mind immediately offered him the notion that perhaps Bella had told him what they had argued about before or after their exercise, that perhaps his questioning of Rodolphus was his Lord's way of rubbing in the fact that he was privy to something he shouldn't have been. Or that he knew her well enough to read her moods, and was braying to Rodolphus that he hadn't read her well today. Whatever it was, it was irrational, and it pissed him off even more than the Death Eaters discussing amongst themselves a few months ago the idea that their Master's concern for Bella was more than just that. And he was going to step outside of their home and meet his Master, and with some luck, quell the jealousy that burned through him when two names were mentioned in connection with one another.
Rodolphus didn't change his clothes, or do anything special aside from removing a necklace made of pasta shells that Lyra had made him earlier in the day and leaving it on a table next to the front door. Wand tucked in his pocket, he rolled up his sleeves as he found his way outside and as far away from their home as he could get, brushing off his brother when he tried to speak to him and ignoring the watchful eyes of his father as he appeared out of nowhere to stand next to Rabastan. He wasn't completely sure why they were there, or how they had known to come, but their presence did nothing but irritate him that much more.