You've got some nerve to come back here. You're not the only one who can smell fear.

[motherspider.livejournal.com]

*There are few things that Esmerelda is better at than accepting shipments of delicate goods, and this, she thinks, is simply that. Two Vanishing cabinets and one daughter with incumbent family are being formally negotiated for today, and if she thinks of it as a business transaction, it is possible to even ignore the monstrous headache the whole affair is giving her and the insufferable grin her idiot son seems to be wearing at all times now.

The small fleet of musclebound squib servants has been sent to meet the wand-wielding Patil servants to bring the cabinets around the back, as if to shield the fact that this is more mercenary extortion than delighted meeting of families. Still, that fact remains, and Evan is at her side and even less inclined to like them than Esmerelda herself. They have had a frank discussion regarding what this family is and what they want, and for the first time in months, Esmerlda and Evan finally agree on something. They are vile social climbers and must be made aware of their place while simultaneously being forced to keep their silence regarding the subject of Evan’s public fetish for bestiality. Oh, certainly Evan thinks about it differently, but to Esmerelda’s way of thinking--and, more importantly, the way of thinking of all respectable wizards in the country, if not the world--he might as well have proposed marraige to a horse. A horse might have been better, actually; horses generally come only with pedigrees done up in delightfully taciturn parchment rather than greedy and loathsome families who come to call in person.

It is Lauren who has set the table and the tea and the array of petit-fours in the solarium,where Esmerelda sits in a huge carved chair, surrounded by her not-entirely-tame garden. The cabinets have been tucked away beneath some harmless, if overactive, vining foliage, as if they have grown there themselves rather than been brought in so recently. Similar chairs surround the clear glass table, though none of them are quite so high or resplendent as her own. Evan is at her left hand, staring off into the distance dreamily like a lovestruck thirteen-year-old girl. If Dearborn could see it, he’d be throwing chairs and hurling invective against Evan’s sexuality in an instant. It’s a blessing, then, that Dearborn is off and about at some gentleman’s club, and will return late and, most likely, drunk and ready for sleep. Still, it won’t do for her son to keep looking like a fool. She snaps her fingers in front of his face once Lauren is visible through the foliage again, leading the family up the winding garden path.*

Stop daydreaming. They’re here.

Comments

[dapperdeath.livejournal.com]

*He’s latched onto it, though, and he’s not quite as willing to let this prior contact go as his mother is.*

How interesting, the two of us might have met before. Did Amrita come along to the party, or--?

*The unspoken question, of course, is or was she locked in the attic, but even Evan isn’t about to say it just yet.*

[pricklypatils.livejournal.com]

I assume these have passed your inspection.

*Baldev smoothly cuts off Aarshati’s nervous of course I don’t recall and her so very long ago, looking evenly at Esmerelda and indicating the Cabinets with a swift gesture. They are beautiful things, massive and eldritch, intricately carved out of teak with symbols and figures inlaid in brass and semiprecious stones. There’s no use bothering with the usual questions for such a meeting, the usual polite grilling about livelihood and virtue and her lovely singing voice and his assured future or any of it. It’s all irrelevant: the marriage will take place, and may the Rosiers have good luck with the thing--if they are fortunate, it won’t tear up the carpets. The two of them are only here to protect themselves and their name on the far side of that union, to ensure that in the society pages they will appear as loving parents and not mysteriously absent ones--or worse.

And for that, the cost is clear. But unwelcome nonetheless. He speaks stiffly, peering over his spectacles at the two of them.*

A touch extravagant, for a dowry.

[motherspider.livejournal.com]

*There’s some fight in them still. How lovely.*

I don’t believe I’m the one who asked for them. Evan, do remind me, I think the very first owl must have gone to your flat.

[dapperdeath.livejournal.com]

It was Amrita herself who responded to the letter and requested the Cabinets. She must have gotten overexcited, after having been out of touch for so long.

*His smile is almost conspiratorial, affectionate, despite the barb.*

You know how she can be.

[pricklypatils.livejournal.com]

Of course.

*Evan’s insufferable smile grates on him. He knows too well; had it been at fifteen that she’d cut his head open with a thrown lamp, or at sixteen? One could never remember.

So there’s to be no negotiation on that front. Baldev had hoped at least to try: he’d sent out feelers already to purchase replacements--but Cabinets capable of cross-Continental trips, approved by both Ministries--well. They might even have to have them built, a lengthy process comprising visits to artisans and wand-quality-wood procurement and an endless parade of bribes, and in the meantime they were begging a favor and using the insufferable Chembarkars’, for this trip and all others. It’s a blow, there’s no doubt about that, and Amrita knows it, and so do these people, and that sets his teeth on edge. But there’s nothing for it. Not for the first time, he wishes his disappeared daughter had had the decency to stay disappeared.*

Which brings me to my next. It’s really not at all proper for her to be living with you before you are married. Surely you understand how that must appear.

[motherspider.livejournal.com]

*She looks to Evan, and then back to the father--Baldorf or whatever his name is--and raises an eyebrow.*

My son always has been a bit untraditional.

*Her expression adds, what of it?*

[pricklypatils.livejournal.com]

*Not that the cat wasn't amongst the pixies--whispers had reached their ears of her working in a bar, and one certainly knew that that meant, but still. Aarshati hastily goes on.*

Of course we will be happy to rent her a substantial flat in London, until the wedding. We can make arrangements for a female relative to stay with her as a chaperone--one of my widowed sisters, perhaps?

[dapperdeath.livejournal.com]

*It is extremely rude to laugh, but he doesn’t bother restraining himself, though it comes out more like snake’s rattle than a sign of good cheer.*

Excuse me?

[pricklypatils.livejournal.com]

*She rushes on, now, as if desperate to take it back.*

Perhaps not a chaperone, then--

[dapperdeath.livejournal.com]

And allow the pair of you to stuff her back into the attic, out of sight? Lock her up again for another four years? Absolutely not. She’ll remain living with me, in my flat.

[pricklypatils.livejournal.com]

It wasn’t an attic--we gave her a perfectly lovely home considering the--the circumstances--

*But that’ll cause more damage than whatever she’s rapidly trying to smooth over, and, again, Baldev talks over his wife, looking pointedly at Esmerelda.*

Mrs Rosier, if your son can’t control himself--

[motherspider.livejournal.com]

*All eyes are on her, and she savors it, makes them wait. The teacup rises and she takes a perfectly dainty, ladylike sip and sets it back upon its saucer before steepling her fingers and fixing the Patils with a wan smile.*

I believe the circumstances are just the point, are they not?

[pricklypatils.livejournal.com]

*As his wife sputters decorously and his teacup sits forgotten on the glass table, he folds his arms, feeling a deep spike of irritation. Out with it, then.*

The point of which?

[motherspider.livejournal.com]

*She spreads her hands.*

The point of this entire meeting. Surely you can’t have thought this is a negotiation.

[pricklypatils.livejournal.com]

What is it, then?

*He makes no attempt to hide his anger, now. This woman is insufferable and she has him over a barrel and he knows it. It comes out harsher than it really should be--Baldev is used to nothing if not getting his way--but he ignores his wife’s warning look.*

[motherspider.livejournal.com]

*They so clearly want her to lay it out, and--well, Esmerelda does like to think herself generous of spirit.*

Your daughter was unmarriageable before my son found her. Now she will become part of the Rosier empire. She will move in all the circles your family so clearly longs to move in. Her children will inherit the Rosier business and fortune and marry into the highest class of wizards and witches in the world. We have made her into something useful. Is that not gift enough for you? Would you prefer, perhaps, to take the beast back into your home, if you find yourself wanting to call this whole affair off?

[dapperdeath.livejournal.com]

*A little frown appears on his face at the insult, but he knows better than to interrupt when Esmerelda is actively engaged in sucking the guts out of someone. And, if he’s honest with himself, the whole scene rather pleases him, just as all violence does.*

[pricklypatils.livejournal.com]

*There is a short silence, broken only by distant birdsong and the rustling of the solarium’s grumpier flora. After a moment, Aarshati covers her husband’s hand with her own and offers the two of them a smile--a handsome one, but it looks like it hurts the muscles of her face.*

Of course we trust you to make the arrangements. You have such lovely taste.

*As for the rest--her husband is too stubborn, too angry, to bring it up, but it must be said. She manages it tightly.*

As for the children--we can only hope they will be brought up in accordance with our shared heritage. They will of course be welcome at our haveli outside Pune over the summers, or whenever they like.

[dapperdeath.livejournal.com]

A slight snag, there.

*The toothy grin is back in full force, and pointed right at them like a weapon.*

Amrita has been quite clear on that topic. We will most likely obtain some kind of estate in India, but--you must understand how she feels.

I doubt very much that you’ll be permitted to see the children. That would be her right, as their mother.

[pricklypatils.livejournal.com]

I would hear this from her, not from you.

*It’s a small hope, of course, that in person their daughter could be guilted or browbeaten into obedience, but it’s the last one he has left, and that in and of itself is infuriating. Not that he had any great desire to see the little monsters in the first place, but that this boy presumes to speak for her, to say nothing of the idea of his own daughter dismissing him as smugly as Evan is now--

And that smile is so maddening, a final humiliating reminder of how much they’re being forced to give up for no return whatsoever, that it's the last straw. Baldev can't stop himself raising his voice, and it comes out before his wife can rein him in.*

Why the beast, anyway? What did she do? Don’t tell me it wasn’t on her back--

[dapperdeath.livejournal.com]

*His smile goes flat and becomes a snarl in an instant, and he’s standing, and his hand has gone for his knife. It comes out smoothly, silently, with speed, as it always does, but this time with new import: it’s not just his knife anymore. It’s hers as well. Evan can see Baldev’s heartbeat fluttering in his throat like a pinned bird and oh, how easy it would be to cut it free--just one smooth, forceful motion--and the desire is plain on his face, almost identical to Amrita’s teenaged wrath. In its own way, it’s the answer to Baldev’s question.*

You will not speak of her that way.

[pricklypatils.livejournal.com]

*As her husband, too, leaps to his feet, she gapes at the two of them, utterly horrified.*

Baldev--!

[motherspider.livejournal.com]

*Years of living with Dearborn and raising Evan have inured Esmerelda to displays of violence and anger. Her expression stays mild, even indulgent, and she waves to Evan.*

Sit down, Evan, there’s no need for that.

[pricklypatils.livejournal.com]

*Impotent anger gives way instantly to horror, and he takes a step back, sputtering furiously.*

You’re beasts, the both of you--utterly mad--take her and the Cabinets--we’re done here--

[dapperdeath.livejournal.com]

*Evan hasn't budged.*

You must apologize for impugning my fiancée's honor.

[motherspider.livejournal.com]

I said sit down. Both of you. We will not discard our manners.

[pricklypatils.livejournal.com]

Aarshati.

*He doesn’t even look at Esmerelda. There is a loud and indecorous crack, and he’s gone, leaving behind the Cabinets--to say nothing of his wife, who has ignored him and remains seated, her hands white-knuckled on the table.*

[dapperdeath.livejournal.com]

*With Baldev gone, Evan lets out an offended little hmmph, but all his anger disappeared with the man. His knife goes back into its sheath. He takes his seat again and takes a sip of tea.*

[pricklypatils.livejournal.com]

*She only sits there, ignoring both her husband’s departure and the boy’s apparent insanity, and looks into Esmerelda’s exasperated face. It’s a desperate plea, if a nakedly insincere one: a last-ditch attempt to plaster some normalcy, some nicety, over any of this.*

--most sincere apologies--I’m sure he didn’t mean--

[motherspider.livejournal.com]

I’m sure.

*Her tone leaves no room for further apologies without actually completely accepting the one that is offered.*

You will receive an invitation by owl. If you have any other concerns, please address them to myself, as I am handling the entire wedding personally.

It’s been lovely meeting you, but I’m sure you must be going along with your husband.

[pricklypatils.livejournal.com]

--of course--I--

*There’s a bit more sputtering, some casting about for the appropriate good-bye, but after a bit of it she gives it up for a bad job and simply Disapparates as well.*

[dapperdeath.livejournal.com]

*In the sudden silence, Evan dabs at his mouth with a napkin, and then looks to his mother.*

Well. That was productive, wouldn’t you say?

Though you shouldn’t have called her a beast. It made him rude.

[motherspider.livejournal.com]

Oh, hush, Evan. I’ve done what you wanted, haven’t I? They've been dealt with.

*She relaxes, slightly, now that the pair of them are gone, and Lauren begins to clean the table with a faint smile on her face that matches that of her mistress.*

I daresay I even enjoyed myself.