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isolde greengrass

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December 19 Fawley Castle

It was the beginning of her third full day at Lady Fawley’s home and Isolde was beginning to feel the familiar pangs of frustration. She’d needed to put on the mask with little reprieve, as she’d yet to spend time with Alecto, and had been in her sister’s vicinity for a great deal of time. As such, she’d needed to hold her tongue much more than she preferred, which always led to an outburst, usually on an unsuspecting soul who knew little of her. 

Currently, she was breaking her fast in a small parlor with windows from ceiling to floor, having asked an elf to bring her tea and a pastry for a moment of solitude. As she ate, Isolde gazed out the windows. The colors outside were intriguing, blues and purples darkening into the black of night, and each time she looked at the kaleidoscope of colors, Isolde saw something different. Her own darkness, was similar to the phantasmagoria outside, never completely black, but not so much that she would say she was filled with light either. She let out a breath as she took a long sip from her tea, placing the cup back on its saucer with a practiced ease.

Her lips thinned considerably, however, when she heard footsteps approaching her momentary retreat. Isolde turned toward the door.

“Was there something you needed?” she asked, her tone brittle as a false smile rose on her face, Isolde hoping whoever it was would realize she did not need company.

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rhoslyngreengrass:

Rubbing her eyes, Rhoslyn nodded mutely, barely understanding what her sister was saying. Invitation. Mother. Isolde is displeased. That’s pretty much all she got. Leaning forwards, she grabs the invitation and lazily begins to read it. 

Her tiredness is soon forgotten as she understands what this invitation is. “Oh! This is incredible!” she beams, blonde tresses bouncing around her face. “This woman is a legend! Oh, the stories I have heard of her parties and of her fashion sense! She is supposed to be one of the most beautiful women in the world!”  

Since there is no one watching her besides her sister, Rhoslyn doesn’t try hiding her enthusiasm and glee under a mask of calmness and serenity. Her face is glowing under the soft sun-rays that pass through her curtains and her smile is almost child-like in its excitement. “The parties! The people! How will I be able to come back to the real world after this? No party will ever compare!”

“Oh! It will be so much fun, Isolde! She apparently lives in this enormous castle so you can tuck yourself away in a library when it gets too much. I am sure she will have the most amazing book collection, but we can go shopping tomorrow for new volumes if you would like!” she adds grabbing her sister’s hand.

“But the dresses! Oh! I have some new ones, but I need to make sure they will be up to Lady Fawley’s standard!” laughing merrily, Rhoslyn smiles dreamily as she lays back into her pillows, imagining how the next couple of weeks are going to play out. “It will be so much fun! I know it!”

Isolde’s hands fell to her lap, her fingers twisting together as she looked at her sister, preparing herself for the onslaught of enthusiasm she was certain was to come. Rhoslyn loved things like this. She was not disappointed in her assumption as she turned toward her sister. Try as she might, Isolde could not help the twitch of her lips at her sister’s excitement, endeared by her sister’s enthusiasm. Rhoslyn’s smile was like the sun and when in her presence, it was difficult for even the most sour of individuals to turn up their noses.

“I suppose someone of her caliber will have a great many experiences to share and we will be accommodated in the luxury we’re used to.” Isolde had heard of Lady Fawley before – who hadn’t? Personally, she could admit she was impressed by the fact that a woman of her age still commanded such respect even after years of silence.  

With Rhoslyn this excited, any hope Isolde had of being allowed to stay home slipped away. She thought it likely that Rhoslyn’s good nature would be taken advantage of during such a holiday and that wouldn’t do. Her sister was ever-so-kind and while it might grate on Isolde, she did not tolerate others taking advantage of her sister’s kindness.

Isolde knew she would need a couple new gowns as well, if only so she would not be seen wearing the same thing before. In her everyday life, Isolde did not mind, but when it came to events, she would rather not give the vultures a reason to speak. “I think we will both need some,” she said with a wry smile on her face, genuine as she only was around a select few. “Much as I am loathe to admit it.”

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narcissa-br:

There was some business that was only suitable for a boardroom, but Narcissa preferred to take her meetings in more casual settings when the occasion permitted for it. Meeting with one of her favourite donors to a beloved charity was something that she usually preferred to do over a civilised dinner and drinks. However, this close to the Holidays, her schedule was tights, and so a meeting at a cafe had sufficed in a pinch.

Her companion had since left, though she still had some documents to read. The weather being somewhat unpleasant outside, she decided she might as well read them where she was and enjoy the warmth a little longer.

The cafe was busy, and she knew that there were others waiting on a table, but she wasn’t about to be hurried along as though she wasn’t a good patron of the establishment. And besides, her tea was not finished, and it was not yet cool. The others would wait, or they would not, but it was no concern of her’s if they went elsewhere.

She didn’t bother to look up from the document she was reading when she said to the person that seemed to be hovering nearby: “You cannot have the table. I am not done yet.”

Isolde was tired of smiling, her cheeks nearly sore from hours of the upturn of her lips that had been practiced so as not to look like a grimace. With the holidays approaching, her family’s philanthropic gestures and commitments had grown and so she had been shuffled off to be the Greengrass representative at the Magical Library’s Christmas luncheon. It would have been easy to apparate back home, but she’d already been in London and thought tea or coffee – perhaps the only good thing about Americans was that they liked coffee – might do in a quick pinch.

After receiving a small cup of coffee, Isolde moved toward the tables, desiring to sit down and perhaps read a bit of the book that was currently hiding in her handbag. She was lost in thought for a moment, considering the invitation received that morning, when she heard a voice – somewhat familiar – and turned her head.

It was on the tip of her tongue for Isolde to declare that she had no desire of anything that was Narcissa Malfoy’s, least of all the table, but she knew there were some people it was best not to upset. Narcissa Malfoy, née Black, was one of those individuals. The practiced smile came back onto her face. “I have no need of your table. I was just lost in thought for a moment.” Not that she really felt the need to give excuses or explanations to anyone else.

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December 12 Greengrass Residence Closed for @rhoslyngreengrass

The letter had come early in the day. An early riser, Isolde had been drinking her morning tea with her mother when the owl had come in with the invitation, and a rather ornate one it was. Her eyes, quick to notice, quick to hold onto detail, realized that the embossing was in actual silver and her eyebrows rose even higher as her mother read the details out loud, an excitement piercing her tone as she spoke, for once having a distraction from criticizing her youngest.

An invitation such as this one could not be ignored, much as Isolde loathed the thought of spending weeks at a time with the same large group, of being forced into the presence of those she’d rather ignore, of being under Rhoslyn’s watchful eye, of biting her tongue. When she had finished breaking her fast, she held the invitation. “I’ll go show Rhoslyn,” she said with a brief glance to her mother. “I’m sure she’ll want to begin planning.” A wave of her mother’s hand shooed her away and as she moved through the manor to Rhoslyn’s room, she idly wondered if there would be any respite for the holidays ahead.

Isolde did not bother to knock as she entered her sister’s room and sat down on the side of the bed, her gaze moving to her sister. “We’ve received an invitation,” she said with a raised brow. “And Mother, of course, is insistent that we attend.” She laid the heavy envelope on the bed.