kingsley shacklebolt believes in truth and justice (shackleandbolt) wrote in may02, @ 2010-10-07 23:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | !!complete, !october 1998, benedict mulciber, kingsley shacklebolt, mary (macdonald) shacklebolt |
Characters: Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mary (Macdonald) Shacklebolt, Benedict Mulciber
Setting: Thursday, very late at night. An old semi-abandoned country home.
Ratings: R for certain imagery.
Summary: Kingsley's going to find his wife. The end.
Mary had lost track of what day it was anymore. It was dark and it was light, and sometimes Mulciber was kind and sometimes he was cruel, and that was all she really had to hold on to anymore. There was a numbness to it that made it hard to think about much of anything. Then again it wasn't really her anymore. He'd placed her under the Imperius Curse that first night when she'd been unconscious, and his hold had been too strong for her to fight it again. She followed his orders when he gave them obediently, and when he cursed her or tortured her she curled up on the floor and let him. Surely, the little part of her that was still trying to hold on somewhere inside would think, he would kill her eventually. It was night now, and he was asleep. She was laying awake, eyes on the darkness of the room as she lay on the floor beside the bed. Steadily, since first waking up in St. Mungo's after the attack, Kingsley had started to lose whatever bit of rational thought he had left when it came to the task of finding Mary. The Order had been looking at all times, and yet still, there had been no sign of either of them. And if that had not been enough, there had been the thought of just what he was doing with her, making her do. His mind had come up with more than enough scenarios, and he didn't like not one of them because they all ended with him hurting her. In the past week, though, it had given him the chance to go back to his Auror days. He was going to find Mulciber, and he was going down. Whether he as alive or not at the end was certainly what most questionably, but Kingsley didn't care this once. He'd searched, and he'd found something of a lead. Something he neglected to tell the rest of the Order about. There was a country house, on his mother's side, that rarely was in use. Which hadn't yet made the Order's list of places to check, and for the first time since losing her, there was a spark of hope. And, there was this chance that just maybe he should have told Hestia what he was up to. But he rationalised that he couldn't afford the time it would take if he waited. Mary couldn't, either. So it was with a quick pop that he Apparated a bit away from the location, looking it over from afar, his wand out in case there was any danger to come his way. Mary stirred slightly in her spot. She wasn't sure what was making her more restless than usual. By now the bruises didn't make any difference or the muscle aches from the Cruciatus curse. It was all part of the same thing really. Perhaps it was that part of her was still aware underneath all of this and that part strengthened when she was away from him or when he was sleeping. She moved, just a little, stretching out one calf, then, with a look back up at the bed, she slowly stood up and went to the window to look out. He hadn't ordered her to stay, and it seemed like tonight she had unusual control over her own movements. Curious, her eyes looked out over the grounds, pausing for a moment as she thought she saw something, then looking back over her shoulder at the sleeping man in the bed. Kingsley didn't noticed Mary's figure in the window, immediately, as he'd been much more concerned with the possibility of an outdoor threat, but when he did, he stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing just a bit as he attempted to make out who the form was and if he had to be ready to fire off hexes. And then he recognised her form. From this distance, he couldn't accurately tell if he was hurt, or how badly, and a part of him was just too happy to see her there, obviously alive to care. He was moving again then, his pace quicker, though still just as alert. He wasn't letting Mulciber one up him, not this time. In his bed, Mulciber remained asleep, not yet feeling the instinct of an oncoming threat. He didn't so much as shift in bed. Mary's eyes left Mulciber and went back to track the progress of whoever was coming across the lawn. She recognized Kingsley and part of her wanted to just climb out the window then and there. Mulciber had never told her to warn him if anyone came though, so instead she just watched out the window before finally going to the corner of the room and just standing there, not wanting to attract attention to the window but not wanting to wake Mulciber up by being too terribly close to the bed. His presence alone was just enough lingering control that she didn't leave and go to open the door for Kingsley, but still she could feel herself scrabbling for a hold, the thought that he was alive and he had come from her making the real her wake up from her long sleep. Kingsley saw Mary disappear from the window, and then continued on, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Mulciber was sleeping and would continue to be asleep long enough for him to have her in his arms, and able to protect him. There were only two ways this could end - with his death or his arrest. Kingsley would accept nothing less. Reaching the front door, he cast a quick and quiet Alohomora, pushing the door the rest of the way open and slowly stepping in, wand before him. As he took his time closing the door behind him, he looked around himself to make sure the Death Eater was not lying in wait; he'd fallen for it the first time, but not this one. Finding a staircase, he took them quickly but softly, and it slowly started to sink in with each step that he was just that much closer to having his wife back. It was brilliant. Mary stood quietly, her eyes on the unmoving figure on the bed, practically holding her breath to avoid making a sound. Beside her was a good sized candlestick, and she wrapped her fingers around it, holding it tightly in her hand for lack of a better weapon, but feeling she needed something. Perhaps it was because Mulciber had been slowly letting his control go of her, but it was easier than she would have thought to pick up the heavy brass item and hold it in her hand. Eyes still closed and half-asleep, Benedict shifted on the bed, a sixth sense giving him the feeling that something was off tonight. He didn't open his eyes, however. Not yet. If tonight was going to be the night, he only had one advantage, and that was in the fact that whoever would clearly think he was asleep and not a threat to be taken seriously. Reaching the top of the landing, Kingsley took the time out to check each door in the long hallway until, halfway through, he found the right one. Mulciber lay on the bed, sleeping from what Kingsley could see, as his eyes caught the image of Mary standing in the corner. He was sure she must have been under Imperius, looking her over. It was almost consuming for him, enjoying the fact that he was seeing his wife again, alive before him. Kingsley's name was on Mary's lips and she just looked at him for a long moment before she slowly started inching towards him, her hand held out for his. She wasn't sure what Mulciber would do, but she knew if there was a fight again she wanted to be well out of it so as not to interfere with Kingsley again. Kingsley kept his eyes on the bed and the still figure in it, even as he made his way to meet her halfway. Grabbing a hold of her hand he held her tightly, just as Benedict sat up, reaching for his wand underneath his pillow and held out his wand in response, the slight hint of a grin curving his mouth upwards. "Now, why am I not surprised." He pretended to actually think. "I know. Because I was hoping you'd make it so I can make sure you die this time." Kingsley didn't reply to that, the stony look on his face saying anything he could possibly say. He didn't know how exactly that it was that Mary was standing beside him of her own free will, but he was just grateful for that fact as he glared. He wasn't going to die, he was pretty adamant about that fact. He was going to take Mulciber down, and then he was going to leave with his wife. And that was the end of it. Mary squeezed Kingsley's hand tightly. For the first time she felt like she was completely in control of herself, and she didn't really understand it. Surely Mulciber should have been trying to pull her back, but it was almost as if he had severed the power of the spell completely. "The only one who should die here is you." She barely recognized her own voice, but just saying the words made her feel stronger. The fog that had surrounded her seemed to be lifting, her treatment under Mulciber's hands hazy and half remembered. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Unfortunately, I have no plans on obliging." The words said, Mulciber easily threw off on of his more favored dark hexes, aimed directly at the couple, and then took it as his opportunity to duck out of the room. The house was plenty big enough, and he'd spent enough days calling it home, that he surely had the advantage. Mary had spent too much of that time under Imperius to be of much help to Shacklebolt. Kingsley ducked the hex in enough time, keeping the grip on Mary's hand to pull her out of harm's way as well. Noticing that Mulciber had taken the opportunity to run, he gave her a look. Much as he'd have loved to have a reunion right then, he couldn't let the Death Eater get away. If they didn't catch him now, they'd be looking over their shoulders for the rest of their lives. As Mulciber ducked and started to run, Mary held onto Kingsley's hand tightly, unsure what was going on or why Mulciber seemed willing to let her go now, but not willing to argue it. "Be careful," she told him, not wanting to let him go but also afraid she'd be in his way. "I thought you were dead." "Sorry about that," Kingsley replied, the slightest upward lift curving his lips for the first time in what felt like months to him. It was almost odd just how foreign the idea of actually smiling felt to him right then and there, but the start of it was still appearing, even in the midst of the very present danger of a Death Eater on the loose somewhere in the house. "Hestia's likely to be mad at me for this later, you know." Of course the thing was that underneath his calm exterior, Kingsley was still very much a Gryffindor, and there was nothing planned in advanced about what he was doing right now. He had no backup but Mary and quick thinking. Unable to help it, he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, taking in the fact that he was actually seeing his wife, alive and hopefully mostly well. "I'll be careful." He had to be. He wasn't leaving her to be stuck with Mulciber. Not this time. Mulciber, upon entering the hallway, headed quickly for the stairs to the next floor up. His grandparents had kept a Potions room of the sort that might have been expected, and he'd long ago decided that there was a bottle with Shacklebolt's name on it in that room. And then he and Mary could go back to their peaceful coexistence. As they headed out into the hallway, Mary, strangely alert for sounds of Mulciber in the house, paused, waiting a moment until she heard the slightest creak of a floor board. "Upstairs," she said softly. She hadn't been up there, having only been familiar with this bedroom, the bathroom, and the rooms on the ground floor such as the kitchen and the library. Part of her screamed they should just run while they could, but if Mulciber wasn't stopped there would be no peace for them as long as he was alive. She wished she had her wand, feeling helpless, and strange as well not having his control on her mind anymore. Somehow it made her own wits sharper, having been gone so long, and she wondered again why he had chosen now to let her go or if he had known that with Kingsley here she had a better chance of fighting. Kingsley had heard the sound as well, and moved towards the stairs, still keeping a look out. He was more than aware that Mary didn't have a wand as it was still in their bedroom where it had been left before all of this. He was decidedly focused however, because there was only one solution to their problem. Take Mulciber down. He made sure that Mary stayed behind him as he slowly climbed the stairs, still keeping a look out for a sign of movement, or a sound. It had been a bit too long since he'd been caught in something like this; sitting behind a desk for months hadn't done anything for his skills. Reaching the top landing, the hallway went two different ways. If he was lucky, they'd have to split up to look for him, and Kingsley would come his way. Mulciber assumed that he had a matter of seconds, though, hexing the door to the room open and then closed. He didn't waste time looking behind him, instead crossing to the shelf on the other side of the room. Looking over the various and different coloured liquids, he finally found the one he was looking for, ominously black in colour. If he got this in the Minister's system, he'd have... what? Minutes, hours, days? Mulciber imagined he'd keep him around, so Mary could watch him suffer out the last bit of life he'd have left. The image amused him. As they walked up the stairs, Mary instinctively stayed close to Kingsley, eyes adjusted to the darkness for signs of Mulciber. At the top of the stairs she couldn't hear or see which way he had gone, and being unarmed, she considered what they should do next. "Revealing charm?" she whispered softly, so only Kingsley could hear. She would be damned if Mulciber ambushed them again. She would rather die first. Kingsley only gave a nod of confirmation, not wanting to give Mulciber any heads up by speaking. He was thinking the same as Mary as he gave another look around the darkness of the hallway. Using his hand he cast the charm as Mary had suggested, the words, "Homenum Revelio," said as nothing more than a whisper. There wasn't much but a blue spark from his hand that went down the hallway to their right. The last door, it looked like. Looking back at Mary for a moment, he started on, leading the way down. Mulciber was about to tuck the vial of dark liquid into his trouser pocket and was considering the idea of sitting behind the desk and waiting for their arrival when he felt the urge to duck though he was alone in the room. He should have figured, honestly. Aurors. Of course, that didn't mean it had to end here. Quickly, before they arrived, he cast a disillusionment charm on himself, and went to hide behind the door, his wand in one hand, the potion in the other. Mary followed closely behind Kingsley, wary as they went down the hallway and stood outside the door. She wasn't sure how best to do this, but figured Kingsley would know, however she didn't imagine Mulciber was waiting patiently inside for them. If this had been one of the Muggle police procedurals her Great Grandmother had used to watch, likely they would have kicked the door in, however here they were, her in nothing but one of Mulciber's shirts, her feet bare, and no wand. She drew back a little, waiting for Kingsley to go first. Kingsley looked back at Mary and held up a hand, indicating for her to stay. If Mulciber was waiting for them behind that door, there was no need for them both to walk in. There was also that ever present though on his mind about the fact that Mary was certainly unarmed. He didn't want her to come in at all, to be honest, but he knew better than to expect that she would ever agree to a plan such as that. "I'll be right back." He whispered as low as possible. It might've been a bit of a lie, actually, because if Mulciber really was there, he wouldn't be right back. He'd finish this. Mary hung back, arms folded around her, not sure what she ought to do, but knowing she didn't want to be in the way of the fight this time. The thought occurred to her that if something happened to Kingsley, she'd be helpless again, and she was damned if she was going to let that happen. "Be careful," she said so softly she could be barely heard. Come back she thought silently to herself. Kingsley only gave Mary a nod of agreement, certainly planning to come back in the end of all of this. That was a promise. Giving Mary one more look, he slowly pushed open the door to enter the room, his wand out before him as he took a look around him carefully. His brow furrowed as he frowned the slightest bit in confusion as he couldn't actually see Mulciber. Must be another charm. Likely of disillusionment. With that thought, Kingsley raised his wand to cast another revealing spell. Mulciber noticed this however, from his hiding place behind the door, and as Kingsley's back was turn took two quick steps forward, tackling the other man to the floor from behind. "Did you ever think, quite possibly, that maybe I have a plan?" "I did," Kingsley retorted, tossing an elbow back to his Mulciber in the ribs and then rolling over so that he had the upperhand. His wand had flown out of his hand in surprise of the attack, but he was just as content taking Mulciber down with fists as he was with a hex. "I just assumed that with your lack of intelligence it wasn't very well thought out." As the men started to fight, Mary slowly inched inside the door, staying out of their way but keeping an eye on them in case Kingsley needed her help. Her hand clenched quietly behind her as she entered the room, looking for a weapon, and closed on a candlestick near the door. Kingsley followed the insult with a fist to Mulciber's face, and then another. The fact that this man had taken his wife from him work weeks did not sit well with him. It didn't sit well with him at all. And he had no idea just what had happened in all these weeks exactly, but he did have an idea. Enough of an idea that he aimed another fist at the man's face. Mulciber wasn't much of a physical fighter. He got much more pleasure out of winning through the use of magic. That, however, didn't mean that he couldn't descend into the world of punches and the like in this situation. There was only on acceptable solution to this fight -- that he won. He don't accept anything less than that. And so, even though his nose had started the trickle of blood and it would hurt him as well, though hopefully less, he grabbed the collar of Kingsley's shirt and head butted him twice. He didn't pay much attention to anything else to have noticed Mary's presence in the background, and as such, smirked when the Minister was dazed enough to be shoved onto his back. At which point, he looked at the vial in his hand and then sat up, his back to Mary "In which case, you underestimate me yet again, Shacklebolt. It's almost sad how you just... keep doing that." Uncapping the vial, he continued, "but don't worry. I'll be sure that you don't make that mistake ever again." Mary wasn't sure what was in the bottle Mulciber held in his hand, but with Kingsley looking stunned on the floor, she wasn't taking any chances. "You're the one making the mistake," she said, lunging across the room and smashing the vial out of his hand with the candlestick, then bringing it up again and hitting him across the back of the head with it. It was heavy and old, and somehow the act of hitting him did something inside of her, it burst a dam that had been near to overflowing. As his body jerked she hit him again. And again in the head, the second hit sending blood spattering up and over the floorboards. As a mediwitch she usually saved lives, but she didn't care about that now, she only cared about him not hurting her anymore. Not hurting either of them. "You won't!" She could hear her voice strange and unrecognizable, even as she half pushed his body to the ground she didn't stop hitting him, first with the candlestick and then with her fists, curse words and words of anger and rage that had been held back in her captivity and subsequent torture spilling out and spreading like bitter gall. The time that passed in between the first hit from Mulciber, and the scene playing out from him had seemed like less than a second. There was still that pain in his head that made it difficult, but he did manage to somewhat push himself to his feet, grabbing Mary by the wrist and pulling him away from the body. The body. Which, looking at the unmoving form of Benedict Mulciber, it surely was. He didn't know if he could be glad that it had been Mary to deal the killing blow, but he wasn't going to think on that now. "It's all right now," he whispered in her ear as he pulled her into his arms, not wanting to let go. Mary was still fighting with Mulciber in her head, and it took her a moment to stop, her body stiffening before she held on tight, her face buried in his shoulder. It wasn't all right, she wasn't sure it would ever be all right, but if Mulciber was dead, that was a start. She took a breath and then another one, deep and half gasp, knowing she was crying but not able to stop. "Kingsley. Oh God. I -" She had to stop, instead just hold on and focus on him being here, that this was at an end. There were absolutely no words in any dictionary that could explain or convey just what this moment meant to him. To have Mary back in his arms and safe. Safe from Mulciber. Closing his eyes, he held onto her, his hold tightening just that bit more as he couldn't imagine doing anything else at this moment. He didn't know what she was thinking about, and he didn't know what had happened, but he was going to do his best to help her. "Ssh, it's okay. We're going to be okay." He didn't know how true that was, but it was something he had to believe. He was taking a page out of his mother's book now. |