from the ashes.

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned."

[violetwilkes]

@richieroyce

Violet had chosen the nightgown from her collection rather easily after her evening bath. The neckline was low, the hem was high, and she expected it would not remain on her body for much longer after Richard returned home. She heard the crack of apparition from her place on the bed and waited, knowing it would not take Richard long to leave the study and come to bed, come to her. She set the book she’d been reading to the side, but nothing prepared her for the sight that awaited her when he entered the room.

Richard was covered in blood, much more than could feasibly have been his own, and she started, eyes widening as she took in the sight. Violet opened her mouth to ask a question when she heard the pop of an elf.

“Mister Runcorn is here to see Master. Mipsy left him in the east drawing room.”

The name was a familiar one; he was in the Ministry of Magic’s Department of Transportation and she thought that Richard had mentioned him being quite helpful with some of the contracts for the new train lines he’d been working on. Her eyes widened even more and she stepped out of the bed, nightgown skimming the tops of her thighs.

Richard could not meet a Ministry official with blood on his hands and drenching his clothing.

It would have to fall to her.

Stepping into slippers that had never seen the outside of their rooms and grasping her wand from where it lay on the bedside table, Violet removed the glamour covering the marks Richard had left on her neck two nights before. She then moved to the en suite and reached for her dressing gown. Upon second thought, however, she returned hers to the hook and reached instead for his. As she tied the belt around her small waist, she was struck again with the realization that Richard dwarfed her.

“Thank you, Mipsy,” she told the elf. “You may return to the kitchens.” It was an order phrased as a request and the elf complied. Without looking back, Violet began the sojourn from the family wing of the house to the drawing room. She tousled her hair and tugged her lips through her teeth.

[ She was well aware of the appearance she gave; it is not one proper young ladies were often proud of. ]

Holding her head high, she entered the drawing room with a somewhat embarrassed expression on her face. She offered the man her hand and when she spoke, she smiled up at him through long lashes. “I apologize Mister Runcorn.” She watched as he noted her appearance, taking in the marks on her neck and the wild strands of hair that were not nearly as kempt as usual. She hid her smile as he took two and two, coming up with four, and told her to please call him Albert.

“Richard is already in bed and I’m sure you are aware of how hard he has been working on his expansion project. Is it necessary that I wake him?” Violet injected a tinge of discomfort into her tone and there was victory in her throat when he inclined his head, promising to instead call upon Richard at the office tomorrow. He apologized for disturbing her and she waved him off with a smile that was false and a laugh that felt too real.

“I appreciate that, Albert,” she stated, tightening the dressing gown over her front. Biting back the urge to thank him for his discretion, she instead swallowed, heavily, as he left through the floo.

When she was sure he was gone, Violet exhaled, heavy and relieved. And then another emotion took over.

Violet was not ashamed. But she was angry.

By the time she reached the staircase and began gliding back up, she was seething, fingernails digging into her palms and her jaw clenched. When she arrived back into her bedroom – their bedroom – her lips thinned even more. Her tone was glacial and her brow rose.

“Should I let you clean the blood off of yourself or shall I follow you into the shower until you provide me with answers?” Either way, she had no intention of listening to him explain when there were still bits of red underneath his fingernails.

[violetwilkes]

Date: February 25, 1979 Location: Siobhan’s Bridal Salon

Though Violet certainly had no intention of wearing anything ready-to-wear for her own wedding, she could admit to having an oblique interest in what Siobhan had come up with. Besides, it was an event that many young women would be at and Violet did not desire to be talked about as if she had no prospects or plans for marriage. In her opinion, there had been more than enough discussion of her life in recent months.

She held a glass of champagne in her hand as she perused the mannequins set up throughout the store and as she appraised a bridal gown, Violet was surprised to find that these ready-to-wear dresses were not as tacky as she’d originally thought they would be.

“It’s a shame it’s not white,” she mused to herself, not realizing that she was overheard by another attendee.

[violetwilkes]

reunions | briar & violet

[violetwilkes]

missbriaravery‌:

Briar was running out of patients. Violet was treating her like a distant acquaintance instead of a long-time friend. It sounded like she didn’t even actually care about anything Briar did over the holiday, she was just talking to fill the silence because silence is awkward. It was as if all the yearas of their friendships had been washed away by the blank face staring at her across the table. Briar had never felt so lonely in her life.

“It was fine.” She said finally, trying not to acknowledge the long pause. “You know, Charles came home and we had lovely meals and mum hired a violinist for me for new years and I got to see all my family which was nice…” she trailed off, unable to think of any other mundane reasons to fill the growing silence stretching between them. “Speaking of family,” she said quickly, throwing caution to the wind, “Why are we at Richard Selwyn’s house anyway, do you not live with your relations anymore?

Perhaps if she had paid more attention to Briar, Violet might have realized that she was not endearing her friend to her. But Violet had never been the most empathetic of women and she lifted her teacup to her lips, taking a sip, before she set it back down in front of her plate.

She was not completely unaware of how strange this date was and not for the first time Violet wished Cora was here, for she had always been a better bridge than Violet could hope to be.

She nodded. “That sounds nice,” she agreed. “Richard came to my parents’ and it was one of the better holidays in recent memory.”

Violet inclined her head at the question, considering how she should answer. “Well I have not lived with my parents for two years, though I suppose living on their property counts somewhat.” She had lived in a carriage house, the upper portion having been turned into a flat after that nasty Lucius business, as her mother had taken to calling it. “It has been difficult, being without Richard for so long.” She took another sip of her tea. “And so when he asked me to move in, I said yes.”

[violetwilkes]

vodka shots & valisblot | h & v

Date: February 14, 1979 Location: Il Tavolo @thedamsel-ts

As she heard the glass breaking out in the street, Violet had known that her idyllic evening was over. Though they’d been and gone from the feast at the Ministry, she had been rather excited to spend the evening out with Richard, people-watching and commenting on what they noticed the most. But when he went to investigate, she found herself left alone and sighed as she gazed around the room. Lifting her wine glass, Violet finished it, before gesturing for the check. When the waitstaff came over, her lips quirked. “I’ll take care of it up at the bar,” she murmured, realizing it was silly to hold a table any longer. Standing, the young woman began walking toward the bar for another drink and as she did, she began looking for a familiar face to distract her.

When she spotted Hazel Fawley, Violet’s smile grew a bit warmer. “Hazel,” she said in greeting, her eyes alight. “Richard’s gone to investigate the noises outside and I am afraid I find myself alone.” She made a bit of a face at that. “Would you care to join me at the bar while I wait?”

Privately she hoped the woman would take her up on her offer as the thought of waiting alone was not exactly pleasant.

[wnq-anonymous]

I’ve never met a strong person with an easy past.

Unknown (via wnq-anonymous)

[violetwilkes]

reunions | briar & violet

[violetwilkes]

missbriaravery‌:

Briar hadn’t even heard the rumours about Percival but felt like this was the wrong time to ask about them. Had Violet always been this touchy about gossip? She felt like she could remember gossiping with Vi late at night a hundred times, but now she wasn’t so sure. It felt like the straight-backed woman sitting in front of her, nearly with a smirk of disbelief on her face, was no longer the friend she knew.

So instead of responding to either statement, she just nodded, and took another sip of her tea, seething quietly. If this silence stretches out much longer, Briar thought she should come up with an excuse and leave. This isn’t the reunion she’d hope it would be.

Much as she hated to admit it, Violet could acknowledge that her life was now split into three different periods. Before Richard’s incarceration, living without him, and his return. While she was pleased to be on the other side of his troubles, that did not mean she wanted to speak of them at length. Percival Prewett’s death had been shocking - no man deserved to die in such a manner - but all it had done for Violet was send her into a tailspin as the man she’d loved had languished. It made sense that the Weasleys - cousins by marriage, she thought - would want to avenge what they thought was a slight against them, innocent through Richard may be.

She noted Briar’s nod and took another sip of her tea. To be frank, this was not what Violet had intended when she’d invited the other woman over for tea. She wanted things to be put behind them, for their lives to return to what they’d been before. Even as she knew it was impossible. Violet cleared her throat. “Did you do anything lovely at the holiday?”

[violetwilkes]

knockturnburke‌:

“So I have heard” he murmured, raising an eyebrow. His client has been the one to get him into the event, as a thank you for the service Octavius had provided, which had needed to be above and beyond those that he usually performed. The items procured had simply been a nightmare from start to finish, and he had been glad to see the back of it, and in truth had wanted nothing more than to be rid of it but the wizard had insisted. Since he was a regular, Octavius had not felt in a position to decline and he knew the invitation would make Ava happy. “I have been told that this would be a good place to conduct certain business” he shrugged, vaguely. “I have not seen much of the view beyond that on the other side of the windows in this room. Perhaps I should look around”.

“I hope you are right. I want to be able to read her, so as not to upset her. I feel like I’m… walking on eggshells” he admitted reluctantly, having not wanted to admit to anything of the sort, especially to a woman whom he regarded as a sister and did not want to think badly of him. He had made a few mistakes that he had been attempting to make up for and though he and Ava had grown closer despite the set back, he still struggled. He had never been in a relationship and had never fancied himself being involved in one. When his father had died, he had expected the wedding to be called off, but it had not been. “I do not mind, so long as Ava is happy with it. I am very much a man about this particular topic”.

“Women are vicious, worse than men at times. I do not mean you of course, but I shudder at the thought of some of the things I have seen and heard about women, when they get together or wish to put one of them down” he said, unable to hide his slight repulsion. he had never seen Violet act in a catty way, nor Ava or his mother, but he knew of women who were quite capable of being so and prayed to deities he did not believe in that the women in his life were not capable of such behavior. “No, you cannot” he winked, “come, let’s find a proper drink for me and perhaps a better view”.

She took another sip of her drink as they spoke, keeping an eye around the room but not enough to be considered rude. Violet nodded at Octavius’ comment. She had stayed up here a few times before, though rarely alone, and she thought it might be a nice getaway for Richard. Perhaps after the holidays, she thought. “They’ve thought of nearly everything,” she told her friend with a small smile on her face. “The only view that I believe is better is at the dragon preserve.” Though both Phoenix House and the preserve were near the same mountain, one could not get closer to the mountain than to the dragons, she supposed.

Though Violet was pleased that Octavius wanted a better relationship with his fiancée, she had to admit that she was surprised. She had previously though Octavius rather indifferent to Ava though Violet could also acknowledge that she had been rather preoccupied with her own relationship in recent months to the point that she’d ignored some of her loved ones more than she’d have liked. “Eggshells?” she asked with a raised brow. “She does not seem the type to nearly explode on you, though I’ll admit I certainly don’t know her well.” She was certain that the wedding would be lovely, especially as she expected the Notts to spare little expense. “If you wish to be able to read her more, I would suggest spending more time together, for I do not believe there is a better way to learn someone’s moods than that.”

He was correct, of course, in his assessment of women. They could be rather vicious and Violet knew firsthand just how much. She was similarly cutthroat, though had always been better about hiding it, believing that it was easier to slide a knife in one’s back while smiling. Her lips merely thinned lightly at Octavius’ comment, for she found it rather naïve of him to assume that she was unlike them – she was merely better, but she said nothing. Inclining her head, she agreed. “Yes, that sounds nice,” she said as she began to move toward the bar.

[end]

[violetwilkes]

peaceful in the deep | r & v

[violetwilkes]

richieroyce‌:

Daphne met him at the door, like always.

His female dog had always been the more protective of the two, though most people he knew feared Apollo more. It was understandable, considering he was the larger dog, but when it came to protecting Richard, Apollo was more bark than bite. He’d never thought much of the fact, never wondered why it was, until he returned from his imprisonment to find both dogs in Violet’s home. At first it was annoying, how Apollo had begun to position himself between Richard and Violet, but then Richard realized his dog was only experiencing what Richard had been dealing with for a long time. Love.

By the time he made it into the bedroom, Apollo was waiting for him, standing just out of the bathroom door and wagging his tail, though he didn’t come greet his father as he usually would. No, the traitor turned and made his way back into the bathroom where Richard assumed Violet was bathing. Richard removed his coat, laid it across the bed, then followed Apollo in suit. 

“It is,” he said, stopping in to lean against the door frame. He crossed one ankle over the other and began undoing his cuffs as his gaze trailed the length of the tub. “Were it anyone else, I fear they would be long since maimed,” he commented, eyes dropping to where Apollo was curled on the floor. Gaze returning to Violet, he now began undoing his shirt from the top.

“He loves you more than me, now,” Richard said, now taking a step forward and sliding out of his shirt. He paused to remove the tray from across the tub, then the glass from her hand. He promptly drained the flute and settled it on the marble vanity near. “I would be annoyed about it, except I don’t know if I can blame him.” His hands were fiddling with his belt and button of his pants now. “And he has to lay on the floor while I can do this.”

His pants dropped to the floor and without pause Richard stepped into the fragrant bath. His less than graceful descent spilled water and bubbles alike cascading onto the floor, and when he pulled Violet to him, more followed behind. He pulled her so her back was to his front, then peppered kisses along the curve of her neck. “Is this what you did all day while I was miserable selling trains?”

She wondered, sometimes, how she had become so bloody besotted by something so simple as a man. The Violet of a year beforehand would have held onto her emotions with an iron grip, would have balked at moving anywhere without a set of rings on one finger, and certainly would not have been pleased to be interrupted in her bath. But now, it seemed that she had become accustomed to a great many things, though only one thing had truly changed – the realization that life without Richard was one she did not wish to partake in.

“It’s likely,” she agreed with a smile, her head tilted to the side as she watched him undo his shirt, feeling any stress, any residual worry, falling from her mind at the sight of him. “He actually growled at one of the gardeners last week for handing me some cuttings of the amaryllis I’d requested.” Perhaps if Violet were a more empathetic person, she’d have cared, but as it was, she had simply patted the dog’s head and given him an extra treat later. She liked the feeling of safety the dog gave her. Which was strange, if she was to think about it, for Violet had not been a dog person before Richard. Then again, she’d been a great many things before Richard and since his return had not looked back.

Violet’s brow arched as he began removing more clothing and her cheeks pinked. For all that had happened, for all that they’d done, the sight of Richard without clothing was one she was still growing used to. “So long as you love me the most, I see little reason to argue,” she teased.

She might have been annoyed about the champagne glass if it had not become clear Richard intended to join her. Violet’s lips curved and she let out a soft laugh as the water began to splash over the side. Her head fell back against his shoulder and her smile, genuine and uninhibited, remained as he kissed her neck. One hand fell to his thigh while the other reached up to card through his hair.

A laugh bubbled up at the question and Violet turned to press a kiss to his jawline. “Hardly,” she responded, her voice light. “I took the dogs for a walk through the gardens, had brunch with Mother, oversaw the hanging of the artwork in our sitting room, worked on setting the menu for the charity event, and went through the stack of invitations in your study.” Her eyes were teasing, and she raked her fingernails over his leg. “You have been invited to at least twice as many events as I have for the next fortnight. I might be jealous if I cared about what half of those families thought.” She had come to realize that Richard, since his return, was a novelty to many of their social set, a realization that did not sit well. And when had she felt the need to protect him so thoroughly? “Needless to say, you’ve declined a large portion of them. I hope you aren’t too disappointed, darling.”

Violet hummed lightly, closing her eyes for a brief second. “Perhaps you should follow the Spaniards and take siesta each day,” she mused. “Though I cannot promise you would get much rest coming home to me.”

[violetwilkes]

reunions | briar & violet

[violetwilkes]

missbriaravery‌:

Briar could feel the ice thickening between them and she hated it. Why couldn’t things be just the way they used to be? Nothing had been difficult before Violet had made this whole ridiculous scheme of defaming Narcissa. When she’d ended that Briar had been eager to repair their relationship. But when Richard was gone Briar was taken aback to see Violet in such a state, and didn’t know what to say. She thought things would be easier now he was back, but Violet was treating her like a particularly nosy reporter. Briar could hardly believe it. She was secretly fuming but directed it at the Weasley’s instead as she said, “How dare the Weasley’s try and pull something like that? I mean really? What exactly did they think they could accomplish? He’s a Selwyn for Merlin’s sake.”

Bringing up Thistledown made Briar smile, it was a very protective project of hers, even if it didn’t start out as her idea. She couldn’t quite tell what Violet had meant by what she’d said, so Briar opted for a neutral response. “Yes well, we had a few fashion-related emergencies but nothing my boutique couldn’t take.”

Violet had not yet realized just how protective she’d become of Richard, though she guessed it was rather natural given how he’d been treated by the government, by the Prophet, by their peers. Her lips curved slightly, though they remained pressed together, at Briar’s outrage. It seemed somewhat hollow, at least to Violet, but she could not find a way to say so without seeming rude. “I doubt they acted alone,” she began lightly. “But I imagine they believed the tabloid fodder about Percival Prewett.” It had been an awful way to die, of course, though she’d known Richard had not done so. “And it is not as if the government cared about his name when they carted him away.” One day, Violet knew, she would make the Ministry burn.

She had been speaking of them, of all that had changed in the past year, but Violet let it go, merely nodding along as Briar spoke of her boutique. It was rather nice, Violet could admit, but she had never been one for fashion in everyday situations. The majority of Violet’s clothing was similar, dark trousers or a skirt with a black blouse or jumper; perhaps a dress or two. She varied it when in public, of course, and often wore elegant creations to events, but for everyday, she had always tended to be rather uniform. “Of course not,” she responded, taking another long sip of her tea.

[violetwilkes]

reunions | briar & violet

[violetwilkes]

missbriaravery‌:

Briar was taken aback by Violet’s formal tone when talking about Richard. She couldn’t tell if the other girl was looking to guard him or herself. Just the chance that it was the latter, made Briar feel very uncomfortable. This meeting was supposed to be a way to a rebirth of their mutual trust. A renaissance and revival of their friendship… a friend-issance! The thought almost made her smile but she bit it back at the last second. Briar wasn’t sure if this new, guarded Violet would laugh with her the way she used to.

Her suddenly stopped smile might have looked like a grimace though, so Briar quickly pulled her face into a smile, “Oh good! I was so worried about him after he disappeared.” She nodded in thanks for the tea Violet and began adding sugar to her cup. “Where was he found again? I heard hundreds of rumours, some had him beaten and bloody, but he couldn’t be that bad if he could leave the house, right?”

She swallowed in the awkward silence, hating how two people that always used to be comfortable, couldn’t get through five minutes of conversation without a struggle. “My new year is pretty similar to last year, just doing the same kinds of things. Thistledown is doing well, Charles likes his little cottage. The usual.” Her voice felt hollow as it faded away and she took a sip of tea quickly to mask it, burning her tongue slightly.

Violet had never been an open book in her interactions with most people. Try as they might, many of her acquaintances saw what she wanted them to see and nothing else. Since childhood, Briar and Cora had been the ones who saw beyond the veneer she presented to the public, the ones who had known her wants and her goals, who had seen the truest part of herself. Richard had cracked at it, chipping away until he had seen flashes of what she’d kept hidden, but it was only after his return that she’d allowed him to see everything. And now she could not imagine putting the walls back up.

As she looked at Briar now, however, she had begun to realize that one of her best friends since infancy was now on the other side of the walls Violet often erected around her innermost self. It was a strange realization, however, and at Briar’s comment about Richard, Violet felt her smile freezing on her face. Her brow rose and her lips thinned as she set her teacup back in the saucer on the table, remembering the awful weeks she’d spent alone, praying that Richard would be returned to her. “It is a miracle,” she stated primly. “That he is back, healthy and whole after all of that awful business with the Ministry.”

Her nostrils flared at the thought of these rumors and Violet clenched the hand that was in her lap into a fist, her fingernails digging into her palms as she considered her next words. “One should not take much stock in rumors,” she merely said, her voice slightly frosty. “They are for lesser people who have so little to discuss they must turn to others’ misfortunes. I do not wish to hear of the awful lies people feel the need to create.” She sniffed. “And the Prophet was correct, for once. He was found at the Weasley home in Devon.”

She mightn’t say it, but Violet was somewhat offended that Briar had so much as brought up the rumors to her face. Still, she straightened her back and lifted her teacup back to her lips, nodding as Briar explained her new year so far. “I am pleased to hear Thistledown is doing well,” she agreed with a quirk of her lips. “Though I certainly hope that it’s much better than last year, with all that’s changed.” Last year they had been apart and yet, even then the world had seemed simpler.

[thewinedarksea]

the seven deadly sins | greed

an inordinate or insatiable longing for unneeded excess

[violetwilkes]

best laid plans | violet & narcissa

[violetwilkes]

narcissistxblack‌:

Narcissa eyed the champagne for a moment and wondered if Violet expected that the might cheers. She made no move towards the glass.

“Belfast,” she said with a raised brow. She had to admit that the idea had merit and, much as she might like to deny it, she knew that both Violet and Richard had good taste. “I am sure that is fine. A fusion of French and German cuisine in Belfast shall be novel, if nothing else.”

And then Violet threw down the gauntlet.

It was easy to be the one asking the questions and something else entirely to be the one answering them. The one asking was clever and a forward thinking. The one answering was open to criticism. At the same time she could not evade the question and thus appear incompetent.

“Sit down fundraisers are so dated,” she drawled with a vague roll of her eyes, as though she couldn’t imagine she even had to answer such a question. “We must be able to come up with something a little more  avant-garde than that. Though I suppose it depends upon the guest list. The old biddies will be unable to stand for long though we could circumvent that issue entirely by only inviting a younger crowd.”

Violet’s lips twitched as she saw Narcissa eye the champagne, though she said nothing and instead lifted her own to her lips. She saw no need to look at the menu, having already decided on a salad niçoise and a slice of the daily quiche.

“The city itself seems to be trying for a renaissance of sorts,” Violet mused, careful to keep her back straight and her legs neatly crossed at the ankles. “Of course the desserts will need to be on the higher end and will likely require much supervision when it comes to planning the menu. I am not certain he is trained in patisserie.”

She was curious, she could admit, to hear what Narcissa would say about the type of fundraiser this should be. Personally, Violet agreed with most of what the other woman said, though she could acknowledge that those with the purse strings were usually the ones that preferred the same type of thing. “I would hate,” she began with a slight twist of her lips. “To cause an incident but not inviting some of the more influential matriarchs. Perhaps we could have a theme of some sorts that would allow us to keep from a sit-down meal. A version of tapas, for example, with drink pairings for each?”

[violetwilkes]

reunions | briar & violet

[violetwilkes]

missbriaravery‌:

Briar was justifiably uneasy about the upcoming tea with Violet. It had been a tense few months since the drama between Narcissa and Lucius and Briar was getting tired of the cautious way Coraline was tiptoeing around each of them, like they might explode at any moment. Truth be told, Briar missed her friend, after all, they knew each other before either of them knew how to walk. That kind of bond cannot easily be broken. But it can be tested, and Briar was hopeful that the test today would help them regain some of their lost ground over the past year.

It still felt weird, however, when they’d decided on a specific date and time for tea. It felt much more business-like than they used to be. Before, showing up at each other’s door was almost to be expected. Now it feels like she’s been scheduled in… strange… Briar had not been thinking about where she was going until she had arrived. And now, looking at the imposing facade of the Selwyn Estate, she realised something she should have questioned a lot sooner. This wasn’t Violet’s house. Yet, this was the address Violet had given her.

Nervously she crossed the manicured garden and approached the front door, preparing hundreds of different excuses for when Richard inevitably answered. But when the door was opened, out popped her old friend. “Ah yes! Uh no problem,” Briar said in a hurry, trying to change mental gears quickly in response to Violet’s greeting, “I just- uh- how is Richard?” She finished lamely, unable to cobble together a more coherent answer on such short notice.

Violet might not have the Selwyn name, but she was rather certain that a proposal would be forthcoming; as such, she’d been careful not to overextend herself just yet. She sat down in the parlor, pleased that the fog had lifted so they could see the gardens, and poured them each a cup of tea, her brow rising somewhat at the question that had been asked of her. “Richard is quite well, thank you for asking,” she said, the words sounding more formal coming from her lips than she would have liked. When had Richard become the only person she was able to be herself around? The one person who she allowed behind every wall? She had always thought he would share that space with her friends, but as she looked at Briar across the table, Violet was aware that certain walls were already up.

She would have had no qualms, for example, telling Cora about the changes in her life, about moving in with Richard or about how their relationship had changed. She would not have worried about confiding in Cora her concerns about doing too much too quickly. But with Briar, things had changed. On paper, of course, Violet knew her fears were unfounded, ridiculous even. Briar had sacrificed so much – for her – and it was unfair to hold it against her that things had shifted somewhat in her disappearance from their lives. Her lips curved upwards as she straightened the napkin in her lap and poured some milk and a lump of sugar into her tea.

“How have you been enjoying the new year?”

[violetwilkes]

reunions | briar & violet

Date: January 8, 1979 Location: Selwyn Manor @missbriaravery

The first week of January had taken some getting used to, as Violet had wanted little more than to simply escape with Richard and shut out much of the world. Eventually, however, he’d needed to return to his work and Violet had realized just how much she’d neglected some of her closest friends. While they had been there for her during Richard’s disappearance, Violet had paid them little attention since his return three weeks beforehand, save from societal events. Today she had invited Briar to tea, having arranged for a lovely spread in the parlor overlooking the gardens she had claimed for her own.

Sometimes, it was still strange for Violet to remember that she could publicly claim Briar as one of her closest friends. While she adored the other woman, they had spent time apart that they would never be able to reclaim. At the time, Violet had thought the sacrifice worth it, but as weeks and months passed by, as she’d realized Lucius was no longer worth it, she had begun to regret her decisions, had regretted making Briar feel as if she was expendable. And yet, Violet was not the best at apologizing, so she had put it behind her, hoping Briar had done the same, as she’d focused on facing a life without Richard. It was only after Richard had returned, as she’d returned to a life that was more what she was used to, that Violet realized she still needed to make amends with those closest to her.

When her friend arrived, Violet rose and greeted her, pressing a kiss to Briar’s cheek as she gestured to the space at the small table across from her. “I’m pleased you could make it on such short notice,” she said with a smile. “I’m afraid with Richard’s return, my mind has been rather jumbled of late.”

[minyiards]

[violetwilkes]

@richieroyce

[sidneyxpierce]

[violetwilkes]

magenta | r & v drabble

@richieroyce or, alternatively, a somewhat strange insight into the missing months.

The first time Violet Wilkes visits Richard Selwyn in Azkaban, she is relieved. Relieved that he is in a wing supposedly separate from the dementors, relieved that they aren’t sucking out his soul.

Relieved, not enraged.

Later, the thought makes her so sick she vomits outside the entrance.

“They won’t get away with this,” Violet tells him, her eyes belying her true meaning. We will make them burn. She wants to kiss him goodbye, wants to wrap him in her arms, wants to be the strong one so he does not have to be. But the rules have been set.

Violet has always liked rules for they’ve always favored her.

Now, they don’t. And the ire that rolls through her veins nearly blows her over in its intensity.

She breaks them, of course, in subtle ways the guards ignore as they sneer at her, as they make provocative, off-color remarks when they think she can’t hear them. Azkaban guards are not known for their manners and Violet quickly learns why. A hand brushing against his own as she sits, an ankle hooking around his calf under the table.

He is deprived of so much. And so she does the best she can to keep from depriving him of her.

Violet visits the prison daily, though she is turned away for not having an appointment on each of them. The next week, she makes appointments, only to be given the runaround. It is a vicious cycle and the only thing that stops Violet from singlehandedly burning the Ministry to the ground is the knowledge that Richard is still in custody.

It does not stop her from complaining, though. Vocally, publicly, to the point that her parents wonder if she’s ruined any other chance she has at happiness.

In the end, they allow her to see him precisely three times before it ends, before each trip to Azkaban results in a floo back to London.

Though she does not know it at the time, when she last visits Richard, or the last time they allow her to see him, it is early October and the leaves have just begun to change color. Her hair is down, blonde curls rolling over her shoulders, and she has dressed for him. But everything seems bland, even the dark magenta lipstick she’d brushed over her lips that morning. It matches the dullness in his eyes, for even the light at seeing her appears dim. Her heart aches so heavily she swears it is real. She wonders, idly, if they would allow her to stay here with him. It is a foolish thought, of course, but for a very real moment, Violet wonders.

They speak of little; too much time has passed for Violet’s vehemence and Richard’s anger to take center stage. Instead, she tells him news of home, of how hard she’s been working for his release. She tells him nothing of the men who visit her father’s home, nothing of the arguments about moving on, for to do so would be to take what little light is left in his eyes and snuff it out.

She has never been one to outright lie to those she loves, but still she makes promises she knows she may not be able to keep. He nods, perhaps not quite believing her, for he’s seen streets run red with blood and has no illusions that his own will not coat the steps of Azkaban before this is all said and done.

She feels lost without him every moment of every day. But here, now, she must be the anchor that tethers him to life.

There is a moment, a brief flash, where he appears so bereft, when the spark behind his eyes seems so lost, that Violet can hardly stand it. Impulsiveness has never been her strongest trait and yet.

She grasps his fingers from across the table and tightens her grip, as if she can pass along her love through hand squeezes, before she lifts them to her lips. She is able to press a kiss to each of his palms before the guards catch her, leaving behind an imprint of her lips in the magenta that had seemed so vivid before.

His eyes seem brighter, even as the guards separate them, or at least that’s the lie she will tell herself until he returns.

And as she is escorted out, Violet hopes that the magenta stains on his hands remain until she sees him next.