Florian Leffoy (prince_florian) wrote in lightning_war, @ 2008-09-02 01:05:00 |
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Current mood: | numb |
Monday night, 14 September 1942, at Malfoy Manor in Tintagel...
“Alessio and Yvon haven’t come home yet?” Lucius Malfoy’s voice was very small—as small as he felt as he walked back into the room he’d begun to think of as the war room, where his mother and all the adults were sitting around the table discussing what had happened in the village and in the woods. He didn’t understand it all, but he wasn’t allowing that—or anything else, except trips to the loo—keep him out of the room. He needed to understand it. Who knew when something like this might happen again?
“No,” said Dracaena, and opened her arms to him, smiling awkwardly at his uncle Julian, his cousin St John, Santino and especially Keresek, who had been in the middle of saying something. “Come here, love. Unless you want to go to bed.”
Lucius shook his head. “I don’t,” he said, and looked warily at Nicodemo Zabini as he made his way past and into his mother’s lap.
“You did very, very well,” Julian Delgardie said quietly. “I couldn’t have done as well as you, at your age. We are all very sorry that this happened while you were in charge here. But we are all very proud of you, too.” He reached over and ruffled Lucius’ hair.
“Two of Santino’s men died,” Lucius said hollowly. “Mercutio is badly hurt. And Alessio and Yvon still haven’t come home.”
Nicodemo scowled at this reminder of his brother’s absence, and Lucius winced. “You’re going to hate me if I got your brother killed,” he told Nicodemo quietly.
Nicodemo stared at him. “No,” he said hoarsely. “No, Lucius, of course I won’t. If…if he’s dead, then it won’t be your fault!”
“I was in command,” said Lucius. “I told them to stay. Or rather, told Mamma to tell them to stay.”
“And your reasoning was sound, as much as I hate it,” said Nicodemo. “Nobody’s angry with you. You were in a hell of a situation, and I hated that. I know what it’s like. I had to make decisions like that at much too early an age, and I’d hoped I’d be able to save you from that, we all had. We’re sorry it happened like this. Believe me!”
“You said if they didn’t come back, there’d be hell to pay,” Lucius replied, his eyes still wide and shocked.
Nicodemo swore under his breath and sat down, so he could look the child directly in his eye. “I didn’t mean you’d be the one paying it,” he said firmly, and took Lucius’ hand in his own, squeezing it hard. “I mean it, Luce. I’ve been there. I was even a little older than you, and I didn’t do half so well.”
Dracaena hugged him hard. “It’s all right,” she told him. “We love Yvon and Alessio and we know that you love them too. If anything’s happened, no-one will blame you.” She kissed the top of his head.
Santino cleared his throat. “Nobody blames you for Mercutio, either. Mercutio was being stupid. This isn’t the first time, either. Blaming yourself for Mercutio’s stupidity—especially when it comes to Valeria! is like blaming yourself for the wetness of rain.”
Lucius winced. “That would have been funnier yesterday,” he observed, and then shrugged. “And your men?”
“I was leading them,” said Santino. “If it was anyone’s fault, it was mine. But things happen. We had no idea how bad it was going to be. Now we know what we have to worry about. I’m angry about it, and I’m not looking forward to facing their wives and children, but we know the lay of the land and the face of the enemy, and we won’t get caught with our pants down again. It would’ve been so much worse if you and your friends hadn’t recognised what you saw and known what to do, who to tell. If anything, I’m grateful to you. You did good.”
Lucius sighed. In his head, he knew that they were telling him the truth. It still seemed hollow praise.
“You did,” Nicodemo assured him.
“Do you want to sleep with me tonight?” Dracaena asked him softly. “Would that help?”
Lucius shook his head. He was a big boy now; he’d proven it; he could handle this. And if he couldn’t, he’d sleep in Bella’s room, because she had nightmares too, and they could comfort each other. Mamma needed Nico.
“You should know better than to ask him something like that in front of us all, Lady,” Santino said gruffly, but he was smiling.
“I’ll ask him again in private, then.” Dracaena sighed.
“The answer will be the same,” Lucius said softly. “I love Yvon so much…but even if I didn’t…”
“It’s good that you care,” said Julian, “but you can’t let it paralyse you. When you have to make a decision, you just have to make the best one you can, because if nobody’s leading, everything’s worse.”
“He’s right,” said Nicodemo.
“But I didn’t know about the lightning in Londinium…” Lucius sighed.
“You can’t know everything,” said Nicodemo. “Your mother can’t, I can’t, nobody here can know everything.”
Lucius nodded. “You’re telling me war is chaos.” He sighed. “I remember, from Clausewitz, the fog. But it isn’t the same as reading about it. The toy soldiers were different. They weren’t people I know. And even if they aren’t people I know, they’re all people somebody knows. I can’t ever forget that.”
“You shouldn’t,” said Julian. “That’s the reason you do your best. We’ll try to make sure that you don’t have to do this again for a very long time. But it’s good for us to know that you can. And for you, to know that you can.”
Lucius nodded again. Maybe when this was all over, he’d understand that more viscerally. Right now he just couldn’t stop thinking that it would be better if he’d never had to know it at all. This was what they’d been preparing him for his whole life long, with toy soldiers and Machiavelli and Caesar and Clausewitz and all of the rest. A part of him wanted to be angry that none of the people in the room had told him how awful it was; he knew they all knew. But he also understood, having been there, that no-one could have ever explained it. And he hadn’t even been out in the field.
“I’m sorry,” Dracaena said into his hair.
There had always been war. Lucius knew that; he remembered the tension in the atmosphere in Rome, the things that he and Bella had overheard but not understood, the seriousness with which Marco had sometimes approached their war games out in the atrium, the way that people had left the household, sometimes for days, and people had prayed for them. And then the household had come apart, and fragmented, and his mother had gone off to war in Spain and left him with Gabrielle for weeks and months at a time, Fiammetta his only companion. And Alessio and Yvon had come back, and quarrelled, and Nicodemo had married that woman and his Mamma had hidden her tears. And now this. “It’s all right,” he said. “It’s not your fault. Will there ever be peace?”
“God, I hope so,” said Nicodemo.
“Try not to worry so much about your brother,” said Julian. “The gating and communications network between here and Londinium is entirely disrupted. We got cut off from Londinium hours ago and they’ve not re-established contact yet, which means that your brother and Alessio probably can’t travel.”
“I wish you’d put in a telephone here,” St John said to Dracaena.
“I would,” said Dracaena, “if it were possible.” She frowned. “Juliana’s probably the only person in the household who can explain exactly why it isn’t, assuming she told us the truth. And I hope she’s gone to bed…”
“I wish you’d go to bed,” Nicodemo told Lucius.
“I started this and I’m seeing it through,” Lucius replied.
Dracaena stroked his hair. She wanted to order him to bed herself, but it was hard to order someone to bed when they’d been a commander hours ago.
“The shewstone,” said Santino. “It’s lighting up again. The gating matrices are functioning again?”
“We can only hope,” said Nicodemo. Lucius watched him walk across the room to it. “Londinium, do you read?”
“It’s me,” said Lavinia, who looked as tired as Lucius felt. “I’ve even still got a house. I’ve also got your boys. The public network is still reserved for emergency services, but I’ll send them home from here, if you’ll prepare the connection?”
Lucius got up and ran to the shewstone. “Yvon’s there? Really, Mrs Scalara?”
Yvon’s face appeared over her shoulder. “Lucius,” he said, “go to bed! Alessio and I are fine, you need your rest!”
“Vonnie!” Lucius exclaimed, forgetting that he was no longer five.
“Where the hell have you been?” Nicodemo demanded, leaning over the boy, his hands on Lucius’ shoulders.
Lavinia laughed. “Doing rescue work,” she said, “but since they’re not officially cleared to return to work at St Mungo’s, my wife-in-law told me to send them both home.”
“God damn it,” Nicodemo began, but he was all too conscious of the child watching him, so he just shook his head.
“Wife-in-law?” Dracaena cracked up. “Portia would probably poison my tea if I called her that. You’re hilarious. We’ll have the connection ready in about ten minutes.”
“Good,” said Yvon. “I mean it, Luce. If you’re not in bed when we get home, I’m not going to bring you a present,” he teased.
Lucius stuck his tongue out. “I’m not interested in souvenirs. I just want to see you home safe.”
artisson, avise_le_fin, delgardie, donnapericolosa, dracaena, myr_avallenau (Keresek), nicodemo, voci_umbrarum (Tommaso Santino) and luxserpentis