The lingering phantoms of his mind hung between them like frosted breath in a field of darkness, and Amycus savored the moment, when all that was before him was his sister, her dark eyes reflecting the wonder which shone from his own — the wonder which was not only for the cries of war which were resounding within the recesses of his memory, but for the knowledge that he had come back alive despite all the dangers and risks. That death had nearly touched him, and yet by all odds, he had escaped it. It was an exhilarating feeling, to wear the souls of a dozen murdered men upon his arm, branded into his skin. A trophy which lasted forevermore, if he wished it.
His gaze is fixed upon her, taking in every detail, drinking in every curve — the smoothness of her porcelain cheeks, her perfect nose, the soft lips. Features which he had grown so accustomed to, and yet had never truly treasured until they had been tossed into these throes of war like wooden figurines. Flawless. That is what they are, and what they would remain. Untouchable. He is mesmerized, not for the first time, with the being which constructs the other half of him, the soul which houses the other pieces of his cold-beating heart.
”I knew that beneath all your guises, you cared.” There is a smirk which surfaces, teeth which flash white against the shadows of this corner of their dusty abode.
"I would have struck down a thousand more if you
had been there, Alecto. Next time, remind me.
Remind me that we share a name, that we
shared a womb. That my victory is yours.”
It was true. It was all true. There had never been an achievement that he had taken for himself. It was for both of them, the Carrows, Alecto and Amycus. One wasn’t quite complete with the other, and he knew that these moments of hallowed glory were meant not only for his eyes, his ears, his recollection; but also for hers. He loved these moments of storytelling, when he could relay wonders to her and know that she felt the rush through his words.
“They know nothing of our power. Every time we set foot in that blasted school, we could be murdering that bloody old fool. Imagine it, sis — one life of our own sacrificed in the struggle, and we could claim victory.”
A pause, and he leans away, suddenly aware of how close he has gotten, how close they have gotten. ”I’d do it in a heartbeat. If not for you.”
Despite all attempts at aloofness, of a straight face with lies that rolled off the tongue, the truth was always revealed itself around Amycus. Mostly due to a deeply hidden weakness, for keeping a secret from your other half was nearly impossible.
& despite their talents, weapons, power, it was dangerous. Every word he spoke was of danger - and the rush it gave him only increased it. For to walk into battle with a smile was akin to walking in unarmed. And without her there, that was often how it felt.
[ she was the armour, and he the sword ]
❝I never took you as the sort who had to be reminded of
such a thing. As if leaving me here alone should ever
be an option. Let alone a final decision.❞
Though Alecto was uncharacteristically happy on the inside at his return, the sting of being left behind was overpowering.
Even if they were assigned different missions,
they made it work out somehow. Besides, they were
the Carrows, and everyone knew that they worked better together.
After all, they had grown up fighting one anothers battles. Cleaning up the mess of the other after certain altercations got carries away, scrounging the depths of the forbidden section in the library to improve their skills, lying through their teeth to protect the other. That's what they did. She p r o t e c t e d him. And she damn well couldn't do that if they were in separate parts of the country.
But most days it felt like he didn't quite care about that. Things were different now. Alecto didn't go to him when there was a storm, or look at him for that nod of approval before taking matters into her own hands. She weathered her own storms; she need not permission from any man. & he was walking into battles without her. Killing without her.
❝Oh, if I could love anything, I'd love to see the light leave
that old croak's eyes. Trying to contain us for all those
years, then crucifying us when he so pleased. Some
people never learn.❞
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