ambrosia flume. xxvi. marauders.
in my heart and in my head-- tell me why this has to end. oh no, i can't save us. like ATLANTIS we fall. we built this town on shaky ground.
Freddie wasn’t quite sure what brought her to the shop today. It hasn’t been in her plan, but walking past it, the closed sign had caught her eye. She was certain it was late end enough in the day that the store should be open, and she could see movement inside.Her approaching the door could be blamed on her curiosity, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she was just attempting to make an excuse to see Ro. They hadn’t run in the same circles in years, and Freddie had been leery about having the other woman in her life for just as long, but yet, here she was, standing face to face with her once closest friend. “Can’t a girl try to buy some chocolates?” she drawled, not bothering to try and dull the sharp edge in her voice. “One would think a candy shop would be open by now, but clearly not.”
“we all know that’s not what you’re here for.” regardless of the words leaving ro’s mouth, she stepped to the side and let freddie through. the shop was, well cleaner than it had been. and more stocked too. she’d gotten around to opening it up at irregular hours rather than just having it sit abandoned, but she was still thinking that she should have taken her nap upstairs rather than at the front counter.
ro bit back a frustrated huff, not wanting to give the woman the satisfaction. freddie may have known why the shop was closed, or maybe not considering she hadn’t snooped around since it first opened. point being, she had no room to make any comments. “our hours are sporadic.” she said shortly. “not that it’s any of your business.”
“more of an afternoon, i think,” edgar smiled, walking in with a curt knock to the door. the shop was…surprisingly unkempt, and the owner seemed less than happy to see him in the shop, and he raised an eyebrow at the oddity that was honeydukes.
“just looking around. got a bit of a sweet tooth,” he said, nose scrunching as he smelled something just a bit…off. he didn’t say anything much, though his eyes did travel down to the glass she was holding. “whatever you’re drinking smells interesting. not for sale, i presume.”
“perhaps you’re right about that one,” she said, glancing over at the window. although the shop looked pretty barren, she knew for sure that she wasn’t letting it go completely under. she held up a finger a finger and took approximately two steps away from her spot at the counter. “the selection is usually a little bigger, but we’ve got some candied orange peels from early this morning-” which really meant two while the sun was still out. she often headed to the kitchen when there was any sign of stress. “and the taffy and fudge in the case are from yesterday. the panocha is my favorite.”
ambrosia raised a brow at the man’s forwardness. “why, of course not.” she said, placing her hands on the edge of the counter. “because that, of course, would be a crime. although i’d be welcome to help you to anything else you see.”
midday inside honeydukes, one of the rare occasions it is open
“good morning,” ambrosia found herself saying despite the time. once the old bell rang above the door and the light caught all the dust, she knew that she was falling behind on keeping this place cleaned up. she had finally found the motivation to flip the sign from closed to open, which was so inconsistent she couldn’t imagine having an actual customer.
she took a drink from her pop that she had poured in a glass only so she could mix it with some of the alcohol those trouble makers had left in the back room. “what can i interest you in today?” her eyes didn’t flit up from the page of the newspaper she was reading.
time: between time marauders are kidnapped and ro finds out
closed for @poisoned--lips
ambrosia was fine with the closed sign hanging in front of the window, even though it was noon. the blinds and a crooked prohibition poster still hung in the window, but she hadn’t had the motivation to tear it down. it just mocked her from her perch on the stool as she got half way through making some chocolate turtles. it was always half-way through, which was a shame.
a shadow loomed in front of the door, a small but sure one. ambrosia hopped off her stool and made her way around the counter, haphazardly brushing her fingers through her hair and trying to wipe the sleep away that seemed to be a staple in her appearance. turning the lock and peeking out the door, her droopy eyes squinted. “i’m sorry,” she said lazily. “but we’re clos- oh.” her rehearsed line came to a halt. “what could you possibly need?”
AMBROSIA FLUME is a twenty six year old widow who is the proud owner of honeydukes. even though she finds herself tangled in the happenings of the MARAUDERS, she still maintains her southern charm.
AND I FEEL IT ALL COMIN’ DOWN BECAUSE
one moment of ambrosia’s childhood stuck out like a sore thumb, sitting by the fireplace as the rest of the family bustled around their grand plantation home. “sometimes,” when her uncle spoke from his comfortable place in the armchair, fourth glass of whiskey in hand. “it’s just about playing poor hands well.” she didn’t understand poker or gambling, hell. she barely understood good and poor. but she could tell from the look on her poor uncle’s face that he had never taken his own advice.
her hands, unlike her uncle’s, were planned out from beginning to end by her mother. she spent a set amount of time practicing her piano, writing in latin, and reading her bible. when her mother told her to, she appeared in the salon and sat while all of the ladies drank tea. she was to be seen and not heard after all, so she didn’t make a peep.
old money came with plenty of rules that she was keen on following. she walked the straight and narrow path to please her parents and those around them, with a father who was profiting off of the tobacco industry and a mother who held more socials than family dinners? plenty of eyes were always watching in the south.
SHE SAID IN MY HEART AND IN MY HEAD
finishing school had always been in the plan, and she got through it. they didn’t send her too fa, just up north to new york (and her cousins had gone to paris! by comparison it was night and day). a few students happened to be a bad influence. it was one of her first encounters with people her own age. as soon as she found herself getting comfortable, having fun…she was ripped away from it, as all girls were. it was the next step she was expected to take in her life anyhow.
eighteen was not exactly when ambrosia thought she would be getting married, but one of her father’s coworkers had a son that was absolutely delightful according to her mother. there was barely even a second between her time at home and her marriage to the man, and she wasn’t even upset about it.
it wasn’t as if he was a complete stranger. he had been around the house when she was home for holidays. he was kind, pious, and didn’t condescend her. he was the happy medium between the constricting rules at home and the overwhelming freedom at school.
TELL ME WHY THIS HAS TO END, OH NO
this was even more true when he told her his true dream: running a confectionery store in new york. amrbosia had never been one for running, but only a year after their marriage did they run off to that city up north. back to where she felt most at home all those years in finishing school. it wasn’t the ideal place to build a family, but they did it. “things will get better,” she told her husband.
the little shop was nestled among plenty of others, and they lived happily. they proudly hung temperance movement posters in their window as their son toddled about the store. it was a small operation, but an operation nonetheless. ambrosia, even far from home, stuck to the values her family had taught her without them breathing down her neck.
after five years of marriage, ambrosia felt like she was living on top of the world. that was until her husband fell ill. no doctor they could afford was able to diagnose him, much less cure him.
months later, lying in bed, he held on to ambrosia’s hand. “remember when you told me things would get better?” he said hoarsely. their child was already tucked into bed, and the rest of the house was quiet. ambrosia wishes she would have said something at that moment, but instead she just hushed him as he fell asleep for the last time.
I CAN’T SAVE US, LIKE ATLANTIS WE FALL
she thought his family may have been a little more understanding or empathetic. she thought hers would be a little more supportive. ambrosia’s mother and father did not bother coming to visit, and his parents only came for a moment to attend his funeral and collect anything they deemed worth value. when they saw what an utter mess the place was, they only took her child.
it was for the best, although she didn’t know it at the time. ambrosia couldn’t run the shop by herself, nor did she have any desire to leave it. after months, she managed to attend church and her book club, but the doors to honeydukes stayed firmly shut.
it was only in the past year that she opened the back ones, letting the crime she once detested right into her own backyard.
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