InsaneJournal

It had felt good, being back at the Hog's Head this week, though he didn't quite enjoy working opposite schedules from his lover. But he did enjoy Gideon's home cooked breakfasts. Bilius stared at the journal, sipping his morning coffee. He absently ate a piece of bacon before holding one out for Wendy. "James has called out Lady Noir. She's agreed to meet him."

He looked up then, eyes finding Gideon's. They hadn't talked about this in awhile, avoiding the topic as if that could make it go away. But now here it was, staring them in the face.

In place of a meal setting, Gideon had splayed out several accounting books, keeping meticulous track of his stores, harvests and losses. The latter category seemed to be especially high this year thanks to the renewed suspicions of the Ministry. It made him clench his teeth in frustration, but there was little else he could do except swallow that particular bitter pill and try to move on.

Only, it appeared moving on did not provide much relief as he looked up when Bilius broke the comfortable domestic quiet that had settled over their (a bit later than usual for him) morning. He still wished Bilius would not tell him these things, but the way Bilius kept looking at him, the way Gideon could practically see the wheel’s turning in the other man’s head.… “Don’t even think about it.”

Bilius gave Gideon his best wide eyed innocent look, which was probably not very convincing to a man who'd lived with him for the last few months. "I wasn't.. It's not a raid or anything like that. Just meeting her to see who she is. And James figures safety in numbers. He's not wrong there."

And more importantly, Bilius was curious about this Lady Noir. The flair for melodrama, the theatrical, it intrigued him.

“It sounds as if it has ‘trap’ written all over it.” Gideon’s eyes narrowed, setting down his quill and rubbing a patch of drying ink that had smudged his finger tips. “And you can’t pour a glass of butterbeer without wincing, still.”

"I can pour the first one fine, it's only towards the fifth or sixth that I start to feel it," Bilius protested, unaware he was proving Gideon's point. "You can't say you're not a tiny bit curious and that you wouldn't mind her being out of the picture. I can apparate away if things start to go south.."

“You’re not going to Apparate away, and we both know it.” Gryffindors did not run away from a fight willingly, and certainly not to save themselves. It was both an admirable trait and an exasperating one -- he was once familiar with that particular aspect himself. “Bilius, you told me yourself you didn’t possess strong duelling skills, even before you were hurt. I...I understand in the future, that may change and there will be situations I cannot stop you from partaking in...but not tonight. Please.”

"It's not a duel," Bilius protested, sounding like a deflated balloon and picking at the bandages on his wrist. He grabbed his cup and went to the counter, debating if he wanted more coffee or a some whiskey to dilute the coffee. "It's not fair," he said, weight leaning against the counter. "I didn't even do anything and that damned woman practically crippled me and I can't even fight back. Can't even write!"

“Welcome to the Order,” Gideon replied dryly, though he watched Bilius carefully, and not without knowing how Bilius felt. Though they had emerged victorious at the end of the war, it had been a pyrrhic victory -- he hadn’t even seen the end of it himself. With a sigh, he shut his books and stood, leaning a hip against the counter to mirror Bilius’s stance. “Let us hope this ends tonight without any further bloodshed.”

"I haven't even done anything with the Order yet. Alecto didn't attack me for being in the Order. She attacked me for being a blood traitor and a writer, not for anything I'd done with the Order. And this--" Bilius unbuttoned his shirt to reveal the bandages. "This I will have with me always because I was drunk and alone in an alley, not because I did anything noble or courageous. I'm still the same fucking coward I've always been!"

The unearthing of all Bilius’s war wounds (maybe it wasn’t widely known yet -- but there was always a war), drew his solemn silence as he took the time to study the stark white dressings. In truth, the injuries probably no longer needed to be covered anymore. “You don’t have to be in a battle to be courageous, just as being attacked in a vulnerable moment does not make you a coward,” Gideon said quietly.

Bilius didn't say anything, just drained the rest of the coffee and set the empty cup on the counter. "How can you be so bloody calm about this?" he asked. He supposed he should be glad Gideon hadn't mentioned the fact that Bilius still hadn't apparated further than various points on the farm and even that wasn't as easy as it should be. He knew he wasn't up for a duel, but what was the point of being in the Order if you were just an accessory, a liability who knew information but didn't participate.

Gideon’s smile was more grimace. “Because I cannot afford to be anything but.” Because while his quiet restraint and secrecy often painted him as cold, as somehow manipulative or deceitful, it was better than the alternative: losing that tight control. He reached out, resting his palms over Bilius’s shoulders, coaxing him to be drawn in. “I love you, you know. And your courage, though you may not think it’s the case, is one of the many things that I love about you. But I know it’s something you need to find and prove for yourself.”

The thought of that elusive courage, which seemed to be nothing more than empty posturing, caused Bilius to make a face. Rather than comment on it yet again, he let himself be drawn into Gideon's embrace, wrapping his arms around the other man and pressing his face against his chest. After a long moment, his breathing coming to match Gideon's, Bilius pulled back. "I should go shower and get dressed so we can get to the pub on time."

While matters never seemed to reach a satisfactory resolution, Gideon was more than willing to continue tabling them in favour of a return to normalcy, forced or not. “How many Weasleys to descend upon us today?”

"No idea. George was thinking of coming by early to talk to us, don't remember if I mentioned that." Bilius brushed his lips against Gideon's before managing a somewhat forced smile. "I know it's stupid to go. Because even if it's not supposed to be a duel, doesn't mean it won't turn into one. It's just…"

Bilius trailed off, going to refill his coffee cup and adding a splash of whiskey. "I'm tired of not doing anything. And every time I sit out, or I try to write and have to stop because of the pain, I feel like she wins."

“And you won’t be able to recover faster if you push yourself too hard,” Gideon reminded him, finally pushing off the counter and moving to tidy up the place a bit, seeing as how he was to spend the majority of the day at Hogsmeade with Bilius. The books were put away, the quill shut in the desk drawer, cups and plates to be washed and left upon the rack. “You’re a terrible patient, Bilius. And terrible at patience.”

"And I should've put you in a nurses outfit long ago," Bilius retorted with a playful smirk. "I just keep thinking when I'm better or when things get back to normal but I don't know if they ever will."

The last cup was hung up. Gideon shook out his wet hands before grabbing a dish rag to dry them. Something to do -- to give him a few moments to collect the grim tide of emotions Bilius’s words wrought. “What was normal anyway?” he finally said.

"I don't mean the war, I mean…" Bilius sucked on the corner of his lip in thought. He was improving, but he'd also managed to function fairly well. And the normal he wanted…. his hand skimmed the bandages on his chest. No, things would never be normal again. "You know, fully recovered. Full use of my wand hand back and all the rest."

“You do realise that there’ll be some physical therapy in order? Dreadful stuff, but necessary.” Gideon flexed his own left hand, remembering how he had thoroughly shattered his entire arm on a raid once. It hadn’t been his dominant hand, but he could still remember the sensation of the force traveling up through his arm, up through his bones, cracking and crumbling. “Then, those lessons you are asking everyone on the planet to help you with,” he teased.

"I know. And to think, you haven't even experienced the magic I work on your body with my good hand," Bilius teased. "And I haven't asked everyone. It's a short list." He snaked an arm around Gideon, resting his head against his back. "And I have been doing the exercises the healer told me to. It's the writing and wandwork that still need practice."

“She may be pleased to note we’ve followed at least some of her advice,” he smiled ruefully, his hand coming to rest over Bilius’s a moment before turning weaving his own arm around his shoulders. “Or not. It’ll get there, but, if it means I’ll have to find ways to keep you distracted until then...” then he was more than willing, as he leaned down to capture Bilius’s lips in an inviting kiss.