Marco Malaspina (tactician_raven) wrote in lightning_war, @ 2008-09-09 17:05:00 |
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Current mood: | dirty |
Midday Tuesday 15 September 1942, at Malfoy Manor in Tintagel...
“Marco,” said Dracaena wryly as the eldest of the children she’d raised with Ercole approached her. They had only recently really reconciled, and she felt their relationship to be slightly tenuous; and she’d seen his expression when she’d brought up his sister Isabella’s engagement. She knew what this was about. “I know you’re upset with Mercutio, I know you don’t like Jamie Macmillan…I want to be your Mamma again and I want to hear what you have to say, but am I a terrible person if I hope this is at least a new take on something I’ve heard before?”
Marco shook his head. “Not terrible, just…efficient, I suppose.”
Dracaena reached for his hand. “Come on,” she said. “Sit down. I’m worried about Liane; she had to walk back in when they were talking about what they did to that boy of Rosen Toms’? And it’s not that I don’t feel bad. But he threatened Alastor’s friends. My guests. It was bound to happen eventually. At least he didn’t get eaten by some of the people who live out there.”
“It’s…a foreign experience,” Marco said, as diplomatically as he could. He let her take his hand and sit down. He still felt nervous around her.
“I know. She’s seventeen. Like Charis. Only Charis has at least lived here in Britannia a while.” Dracaena sighed heavily. “So what is it?”
Marco exhaled softly. “I don’t like this engagement of Bella’s going through. I don’t. And you’re going to assume it’s because Macmillan’s the bridegroom, but that’s not it, it’s honestly not.”
“Then convince me otherwise,” said Dracaena. “Dory,” she said, “please bring us tea and biscuits, and then leave the room. If you want, you can help Bella and Liane and Aelia in the parlour, but this conversation is not for your ears. Nor yours, Luce.”
Lucius hugged and kissed her. “I suppose I’ll go find Alastor and go outside,” he said, as Dory poured their tea.
“Good thinking,” said Dracaena. “But this time, stay in the Bois and don’t go down to the vicarage, promise?” She kissed his cheek.
“Promise,” said Lucius, and stole a biscuit from the tray before sauntering out of the room. Dory looked up at him, and then at Dracaena.
“It’s fine,” said Dracaena. “You can have one too, since it’s just us. Just don’t eat when you’re serving guests.” She patted the girl’s shoulder. “And remember: how guests treat you is good information for me, and you’re not here so much to serve tea as to pay attention to what goes on, but I do appreciate good service. Which you are providing.”
Dory smiled at her.
“Go on now,” said Dracaena. “Whatever you want to do, for at least a half-hour.”
“Thank you,” said Dory, and left the room.
“So,” said Dracaena. “If it’s not about Jamie, what is it about?”
“Right now, I don’t care who the bridegroom is. I care that my sister’s the bride. She’s not ready. I don’t think she even knows what she wants, what she’s ready for. When you consider everything that’s happened to her…” Marco trailed off and shook his head. He wasn’t ready to say the words, assault was too vague and rape was too damning and he should have stopped it, somehow… “How ready could she possibly be right now?”
“That’s why we aren’t letting her go and live with them until the war is over and he’s home for good,” said Dracaena in a gentle voice, crumbling the edge of a biscuit. “Believe me, I’ve thought about this. Did you hear what Liane said this morning at breakfast? There’s someone out there that girl would run off with in minutes, we just don’t know who—and I don’t have time to do the research, but she’s still got a thousand-mile stare when you catch her sometimes. Those girls have been through hell, and they think they know what they want. If we try to stop them we’re just going to be one more set of gaolers. And this…there’s political ramifications for years.”
“Politics. Always politics,” Marco said, shaking his head again. He was never a Christian, but he had understood how Yvon was feeling that morning. “She’s too fragile. She is. She’ll only get hurt again and she’s been hurt enough.”
“You don’t know that,” said Dracaena, and swallowed, because she didn’t like talking about it, and especially not to her children, but: “Look, you have to have some idea what happened to me over there, and your father didn’t know how to deal with all that, but Nico does. I think we have to impress upon Jamie that if he does hurt her, he’ll wish he had never been born, and no, that’s not your job…but she wants this, and she’s going to have it.”
“Does she even know what she really wants?” Marco asked, then frowned. “She’d say she does, I suppose.”
“Let me draw you a picture,” Dracaena said, a little more gently. “Let’s say that I say no to the Macmillans. Jamie, from everything that I’ve been told, will come here anyway, and she will leave with him, somehow. He’s a veteran. He’s handsome and young and he really does love her. It’s a good match, and it’s good for the country too. So I say no, and she runs off with him anyway. Now it’s in the papers, I’m the villain, our approval and public morale are in the crapper—oh God, I am starting to talk like Nico—and she’s still with him. Only she’s not under our roof, she’s there, and we have no control over anything. We lose the good opinion of the public, we lose what little control we have, we lose everything we could possibly win in this scenario.”
Marco sighed. He didn’t like it, but it all made sense. And she did sound like Nicodemo, which was uncomfortable. She and his father had never had that kind of rapport and he knew it. “I suppose so. I just…worry about her. Terribly,” he admitted. “I don’t want her to go away with him, that would be an unmitigated disaster.”
“I agree,” said Dracaena, nodding. “She’s very fragile. I don’t know if she can do what she thinks she can do. Maybe she can’t. At least this way I’m here, and if she seems to be flinching whenever he touches her I can make him sleep in his own room for a while.”
Marco bristled. “He should understand that on his own.”
“I agree. He should,” said Dracaena, and sighed again. “I’m…this is a worst-case scenario. I don’t expect that to happen.” She frowned. “If that’s not what you meant, then what did you mean?”
For a moment, Marco went quiet, then shrugged a little. “If she can’t do this, if she can’t handle it and it all falls apart, what then?” he asked, entirely sidestepping the question.
“Then the Macmillans have to wait until she can,” said Dracaena flatly. “He loves her. If he treats her respectfully, if he gives her some distance, she should recover. Men think women break. Irreparably. Maybe sometimes we do but not usually. Usually things get better.”
Marco nodded. He supposed it made sense. He’d been brought up to think of women as their honour, and once that was gone, there was nothing, but clearly, that wasn’t true. He didn’t care what Melina had done; he knew she wouldn’t have done it, if they hadn’t been separated. And he certainly couldn’t blame Dracaena or his sister for the things that had befallen them against their will. “That’s…the best we can hope for, I suppose.”
“Why do you think she’s not going to get better?” Dracaena asked in a soft voice. “You think this is your fault, don’t you?”
“I…” Marco started, then he trailed off, not sure what to say, and he found himself looking around the room, at anything that could hold his interest for a few moments as long as it wasn’t her, because she saw right into him and sometimes he really hated it.
“I was always really bad at this with your father,” said Dracaena reflectively. “Marco, I can’t tell you that things wouldn’t be different if you’d made different choices. That’s a given. But we don’t know for sure that they would be better. I can only tell you that the choices you could make in that situation were very limited, that you were completely out of your depth and that there are things that have been going on with the Garcias for generations that we simply won’t ever know. You were under very strong compulsions. Yes, there are people who can resist compulsions like that, but I really don’t think it’s a matter of character. What I do know is that none of this could have happened to either of you if Fernando hadn’t decided to do these things and Carmela hadn’t decided to give it her blessing. And I killed them. My bees. They’re dead. Vengeance was ours. But the healing takes time.”
Marco was very quiet for a long moment, digesting everything, then he said, softly, “It’s so very foolish of me. I know it is. And yet…she’s my sister. And I keep thinking that if I can protect her now, it might make up for everything else I’ve failed to do, which I know is even more foolish still, you don’t have to tell me.”
“How do you think I feel?” Dracaena asked him frankly. “I keep wondering if maybe if Nico and I had stood up to your father earlier, played our cards a little better and a little closer to our chest, not only would none of this shite have happened with Yvon and Alessio and Portia, it might not have happened to you and your sister, either.”
Marco nodded. “I know,” he said, still looking away. She was probably right, that was the curse of it; how could he blame her for continuing to respect his father longer than she ought to have done? “Well. That was all. And you’ve addressed my concerns.”
Dracaena took his hand. “Marco, we will get through this,” she promised him softly.
“It all just feels like a mess, some times. Most times, really,” said Marco, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
“That’s because it is a mess,” said Dracaena, who then finally ate the biscuit she’d crumbled.
Marco sighed, shaking his head. “Good to know my analysis of the situation’s bang on, then.”
“Marco,” said Dracaena, “so far as I can tell, life is one mess right after another. Maybe there are people out there who get it all figured out early on and do everything right, but not us.” She grinned at him, and wiped the crumbs off her mouth with a napkin.
That made Marco laugh a bit. “At least we’re getting some messes sorted out?”
Dracaena nodded. “I like to think so. Is there some reason you think this boy is too stupid to know what Bella has been through and figure out how to handle her properly? If so I’d like to know what it is.”
Marco shook his head. “No. But if the war changes him, then there’s no telling who he’ll be when he comes back from it.”
Dracaena frowned. “I know. I went off to war myself when I was his age. War changes everyone. And sometimes the subtle changes are worst.”
“I know. But it bears saying. Because Bella won’t have thought of it,” Marco replied sourly.
“I’ll talk to her,” said Dracaena. “And I’ll have Alessio talk to her, too. I know what Melina and Katya are saying, but you know most of what happened between Yvon and Alessio that wasn’t the Parkinsons’ fault was the war, and what that did to them. Alessio can examine her regularly, too, he’s good at spotting trouble when Yvon’s not half-dead.”
“I know,” Marco said. “I just…don’t want her to be hurt. That’s all. I was horrible at making sure of it before, but I’m doing my best now.”
“That’s all you can do,” said Dracaena. “But you’re going to have to regain her trust. I don’t mean because you didn’t protect her from Fernando. She doesn’t blame you for that. I mean about Jamie.”
Marco nodded. “I know,” he said miserably.
“Which means you’re going to have to actually try to pretend you want them to be happy.” Dracaena shrugged. “I know you want her to be happy, but there’s a part of you that isn’t prepared to accept it might happen with him. And it might. She might want him. You don’t know.”
“Then I’ll just…have to do my best,” Marco said, despite the reluctance in his voice.
“She might really want him. Do you remember what I was like when I came back?” Dracaena asked in a very soft voice.
That made Marco pause, and his eyes widened a touch. “Oh.”
“People are different. If something that belongs by right to you and you alone gets taken away from you, sometimes you want to lock it up and hide it away and hoard it. And sometimes you want to use it as much as you can, to prove that it really belongs to you.” Dracaena looked down at her tea. “It’s different for different people. And sometimes if something has been taken by someone who has no right to it, you want to give it right away to the person you do want to share it with.”
“Oh,” said Marco again, starting to feel his cheeks burn. Her behaviour—as much as his father had liked it—upon returning to Britannia had upset him, but her explanations made sense. Still, he didn’t want people to say the same things about Bella that they said about her. Bella wasn’t strong, like she was.
“I’m sorry,” said Dracaena, “but I want you to understand some of the places your sister’s mind may be in, right now. She could go all of those places before she’s herself again.”
“No, yes, I mean, it’s good to know, really,” Marco managed awkwardly.
“I’m sorry,” said Dracaena. “I know you didn’t like it when I was behaving like that. Nobody did except your father and that’s because he had his own problems.”
Marco shook his head. “Pappa…yes, that’s about the best way of putting it, I suppose.”
Dracaena smiled at him wryly. “Nico helped me realise that it was time to stop. He’s good at that.”
Marco nodded. “I think he is, yes.”
“Has Bella ever done anything like that before?” Dracaena glanced at him thoughtfully.
Marco shook his head. “She ran a little wild at times at school, but…I mean…” He made a face. He didn’t like thinking about it, all of the boys that his sister had been with.
Dracaena tapped the table. “Tell me. I’m her mother. I want to take care of her, not punish her.”
“She’s had her share of boys, but…I don’t…I don’t think it was the same thing. Gods, I hope it wasn’t the same thing,” Marco said, shaking his head again.
“I hope not, too.” Dracaena bit into another biscuit and chewed it. “I’ll talk to her. And I do want Alessio to talk to her, he draws people out.”
Marco nodded. “He’s good at that. He’s…comfortable.”
“He is. He’s good for Yvon,” said Dracaena. “Yvon gets so wound up and he takes it right out of him.”
That made Marco smile. “I just want him to be happy again, and now he is. It’s good for him.”
“Which him? Both of them? They’re both so happy together.” Dracaena grinned. “Maybe Bella can be happy like that. Maybe they really love each other and it’ll be fine. Hope for that, Marco.”
Marco nodded. “Maybe she can be. Maybe it will be,” he agreed. The notion would take some getting used to, but if it was for the best, then he’d work on getting used to it.
“Just remember,” Dracaena said quietly. “There are times in your life when you sincerely want to be wrong. This is one of them. You and I both know all the ways that this could go wrong. So we can set it up to give it the best chance of working.”
“Yes. Yes, I think I would like to be wrong this time,” Marco agreed.
“We’ll work on being wrong.” Dracaena squeezed his hand. “We’ll make a project of it. You and me and Alessio.”
Marco laughed. “Just one more thing to add to your to-do list. Plenty of room and all.”
“You think?” Dracaena shook her head. “I wish I knew who it was that Liane would run off with tomorrow. Just so I had some idea what to do if he does turn up, if I should lock her in her room and raise the mists, or kiss her on the cheek and pack her bags. She doesn’t trust us.”
“She’s only just arrived. Trust takes time,” Marco said. He didn’t understand the strange new girl at all, but then, how could he?
“She’s got a look about her that reminds me of Bella,” said Dracaena, frowning. “I can’t decide if it’s the cinematic glamour…or something more desperate and dangerous.”
“That I don’t know,” Marco said, shaking his head.
“Or if I’m just being fanciful.” Dracaena shrugged. “Pritchard wanted to talk to me about this. Were you and Pritchard ever friends?”
Marco shook his head. “No, not really.”
Dracaena frowned. “Did you get along? Because I like him, and I don’t think Magister-Sir would send me someone I couldn’t trust, but Tom and Bella don’t have much to say about him, and Yvon was a prefect when he was in school…which is really useful, if I wanted to know what he was like when he was thirteen.”
“We got on well enough,” Marco said. “I don’t think you would be sent anyone you couldn’t trust, no.”
“That wasn’t even really a question,” said Dracaena. “I just wondered if there was something untoward going on.” She shrugged. “Melina says he was chatting up Liane last night and he’s been fooling around with Valeria. Do I tell him to cut it out if he likes his job?”
Marco made a thoughtful little face. “Forgive me for saying so, but Valeria…has needed the distraction. And if getting up to things with Pritchard is her distraction, I suppose it’s a fairly harmless one. At least it gives her an outlet.”
Dracaena sighed. “All right. Melina also said Liane appears not to have noticed that Pritchard was chatting her up and that he might have done better to disguise himself as some sort of complex theoretical proof.” She shrugged. “Think we might get one in Ravenclaw after all?”
Marco laughed. “Maybe. Just maybe.” He hoped so—he had liked his House—but he knew how the Malfoys tended to Sort.
“I don’t know how it is that we always make Slytherin. I don’t think I was that grand of a Slytherin. Will thought I should have been in Hufflepuff.” Dracaena smiled.
Marco quirked his head and smiled. “I could see that.”
“I don’t want that girl in Slytherin, I suspect they’ll eat her alive. I’ve been listening all morning to her and Bella and Aelia—the girls at Beauxbatons treated her awfully, and Bella’s convinced she’s for Slytherin because she knows how to dress herself.” Dracaena chuckled. “What has your house been up to that that should be thought remarkable?”
“If Ravenclaw can manage to organize itself and keep the clutter to a point where one can walk through the commons without difficulty, that’s remarkable enough,” Marco said with a chuckle.
“But there were fashionable girls in Ravenclaw when I was in school,” said Dracaena. “Granted, not many…”
“By chance more than design, I’d wager,” Marco replied.
“I’ll take your word for it. She’s got Bella and Charis co-operating.” Dracaena shook her head. “At least I think she has. Charis keeps looking in on them anyway. Of course she might be bored because she hurt her arm, and Santino won’t let her do exercises.”
Marco’s eyebrows went up. “Well, I suppose peace in our time can’t be far behind.”
“Are you implying I may be wrong that Liane would do well in Slytherin?” Dracaena laughed.
Marco chuckled again. “I just think she might surprise us, no matter where she ends up.”
“She’s already done that. She produced a magister’s thesis at breakfast, which Nico thinks is probably going to be classified. I hope I hear from him soon; he’s at Mungo’s, you know. It must be nice to go to a school that doesn’t hold everyone back to the same pace.” Dracaena shrugged. “Lucius is so bored, but he wants to go back.”
“I wish we’d been allowed our own pace, but we have what we have,” Marco said with a shrug. “School’s important. I know not everyone agrees with me, but I think it is.”
“I don’t disagree,” Dracaena said gently. “I just don’t think we can have all the youth of Britannia in one place right now, in a building that even Will doesn’t quite understand. If we get the ones who can handle it into the work force, we can set up some other form of education for the younger ones.”
“It’s probably for the best. The younger ones just need to be taught something, it’s civilising,” Marco said, nodding. “Not everyone teaches their children as well as you did. And, no offence…you had more time to do it, then.”
“I agree,” said Dracaena. “It just disturbs me that Lucius wants to go back so badly, when Alessio’s had those nightmares. He keeps telling me he didn’t die in any of them, and that he thinks it means they need him there. Fortune wants me to send them all back tomorrow. I have to talk to Nico before I make a final decision. I want to know what you think, too. Do you believe it’s because he was frightened, yesterday?” She sighed. “You should have heard Nico, trying to convince him that no, if Alessio didn’t come back, it didn’t mean he would hate him forever.”
“I…don’t know,” Marco admitted. “I think he was afraid. But I also think he needs to feel useful in a way he can handle. School might be boring, but he’s not making adult decisions in a time of war there.”
“You know I’d not have left him here for all the world if I’d known,” said Dracaena. “But he did brilliantly, and you all advised him, didn’t you?”
“I did, and I’m not accusing you of anything, my Lady,” Marco said, bowing his head, then he frowned a little at himself. “Mamma. I just…think it was too much for him. Even if it was necessary and unavoidable…I’d want to get back to school, too, if I were eleven and in his position.”
Dracaena sighed. “There’s no guarantee that he won’t end up in command again there. Only without people who’ll follow him.”
Marco frowned. “True,” he admitted. “But at least there, the expectation of him having to command won’t be so explicit.”
“No,” said Dracaena. “It’ll fall right on his shoulders when all the incompetent adults lose their minds in the face of a crisis, and Will and Charis are somewhere else on campus, and he’s surrounded by terrified children his own age.” She frowned. “I can remember when Emily Chattox was one of my best friends. I don’t even understand her any more.”
Marco thought about it. “If he leads those children, if it’s required of him and he does it, his political career would be well begun, wouldn’t it? It’s a horrible way to think and I don’t want to do it to him, but if he wants to go back, and it could serve him somehow…I don’t know. It could be useful.”
“I know. But I’m thinking more like a mother than a Roman today, God forgive me,” Dracaena said, folding her hands in her lap.
“He needs a mother more than he needs a Caesar,” Marco said gently.
“Good, because that’s what he’s got,” Dracaena said firmly. “It would be brilliant for his career. But I hate the very idea of it.”
“I don’t know if anyone likes it. I should hope not,” said Marco.
“I’ll talk to Nico,” said Dracaena. “Maybe Lavinia and her wonder children will turn up some points of data in our favour. I’ll write to her.”
Marco nodded. “That would be good, yes.”
Dracaena nodded and peered over her desk, past the parlour and out toward the other entrance to the room. “All right then, there’s Pritchard…and Charis, again. And Domitian, what joy! You can go. Or stay, if you want, but I need to hear what they’ve all got to say.” Dracaena sighed heavily.
Marco rose and kissed her cheek. “I’ll send them in, Mamma.”
Dracaena smiled at him. “Thank you.”
Marco smiled back, bobbing his head in a sort of awkwardly pleased recognition before going to usher her visitors in, as he’d promised to do.
dracaena and tactician_raven
with domitian, doryatschool, luxserpentis and nat_pritchard