Because, really, a brothel is a man's best friend.

There was something Athena had noticed the closer she’d gotten to the patio. The wand had begun to flutter, the magic within it humming that degree stronger as she grew closer. It knew where its true master was. Athena’s lips curved upwards at the sides, inwardly pleased about how responsive it was. It had been juddering over the last few days, as if it was anticipating Kendall’s arrival. She took a bite of the peach, purposely delaying the need to reply. She carefully chewed the segment she’d bitten off from the fruit. She swallowed the fruit, the juices her chewing had produce, slipping down after it. She inhaled a careful breath through her mouth a moment or two later and stared blankly at Kendall as he began to lose his temper a smidgen. She merely raised an eyebrow at him in response to his little tantrum.

Athena sent the peach over to one of the tables with a flick of her fingers and stepped across the patio to where Kendall was stood, his facial expressions contorting with the ugly curve of his mouth as he spat his dismay at a floundering Eli. Athena moved Fauve away with a slight press of her hands against the girl’s shoulders and she hurried, the bracelet tight in her fist, to her father who lead her back inside, knowing as well as Athena did that they would need time to talk, or for Kendall to complain. Kendall, of course, brought himself ever closer to punctuate his point. Athena shot him a puzzled look. Then it dawned on her and her eyebrows rose, her eyes widened and her mouth formed a large ‘o’ shape as a grin struck them.

“Missed me, then?” Athena asked him slowly, her words deliberate, measured. She brought herself a tad closer and skirted her hands down his arms, her fingers mingling with his before pulling away, her mind reminding her that she had yet to have a right to do that. Athena heard the French doors close, the shutting due to the wind rather than Eli who had retreated into the house rather than sitting there, trying to prove his point. He wanted to leave that to Athena which was more than fair. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Mr. Rookwood.” Athena told him indulgently, a small smile lighting her face a fraction. She reached down and pulled at his wrist, inspecting the bracelets just as Fauve had done before taking one of them; Athena didn’t have the same manners as Fauve did.

Athena looked about herself, her eyes taking in the sight before her of the woodland, of the large expanse of grass beyond the raised patio. It was beautiful; and so very, very free. She returned her gaze to Kendall a moment or two later and met his hard stare. “Don’t be a baby, Kendall.” She scolded him, though there was no real malice behind her words. Athena laughed a little despite herself and shook her head. “I missed you too.” She told him, deciding to stroke his ego a little in order to make him feel better. “There’s nothing between Elijah and I. He was helping me because Mira asked it of him. He’s a friend, alright?”

This time she brought her hands to his shoulders and let them stray upwards to his neck. It was easy to forget that he was quite a bit taller than her; she was doomed to be tiny forever. Athena tugged him a little, bringing him closer to her, and rose up to meet him half way. She brushed her lips against his, the gentlest of touches, almost a whisper, before lowering herself back down to her normal height. Athena peeked up at Kendall hesitantly before stepping away, a grin lighting up her entire face. She removed the wand from behind her ear and began to back away, her eyes alight with mirth and playfulness.

“You shall not have it back!” She declared with a triumphant laugh. “For, it is mine! You shall have to catch me if you want it!” And with a laugh left in her wake, she took off down the patio stairs towards the grass.

It was, indisputably, an embarrassment. Kendall would live to regret the semi-outburst. For awhile, at least. And in that moment, he hated Athena, stoked by the flames of surrender to what he recognised as an emotional failing that was displayed openly, even in the presence of Eli. The boy began to exercise slow and steady breaths, attempting to regain his composure and hopefully the bit of dignity that he believed still remained for him to take. Still, he maintained a hateful stare directed at the same girl that he could possibly confess to love. It was possibly made worse by the smile that was plastered on Athena's face, briefly. For a girl who hardly smiled, this one came at a rather inappropriate time, in his opinion at least. As Fauve began to shuffle her feet, and then move along to her father, Kendall paid close to no attention to the other two. At this point, he could do without the presence of a troublesome child (they all are to him anyway), and the presence of a man who had kept Athena in his house for Merlin knows how long already (and without his knowledge too!).

At Athena's touch, his breaths began to ease. Still, Kendall continued to scowl, even as he fought to put on his usual cool/cheeky mask, in vain. And then, with eyes wide open and with great force, he began to protest. "I'm NOT jealous!" It was not dignified by the girl. Despite the sustenance of the look on his face, Kendall headed towards calm again as Athena continued to speak, allowing himself to be subjected to the excitable emotions that she was embarrassingly leading him on. The boy looked away, unwilling to concede even when Athena offered reasons that he found suitably justifiable. It was not for long though; not even for more than a millisecond. At the presence of her hands on him, Kendall turned to find himself meeting the girl for an anticipated kiss that simply turned out to be a tease. Once again, his eyes went wide, narrow, and then complemented the scowl that his face resumed to. This time, he didn't have long to sulk about. He felt the bit of power from his hand that almost felt like he could call for his wand with his bare hands. But no, of course not. Wandless Magic was far, far from his current abilities.

When Athena took off, it left Kendall in a state that was more surprise than shock. She was in a far more jovial mood than he would have expected her to be in, even typically. With not even time to raise an eyebrow, Kendall had a moment's hesitation as he contemplated using his wand to force it out of Athena's grasp. But of course, it wouldn't really work. Besides, the invitation she had called out with was far more intriguing. Kendall took off after Athena. While he would not have won her in a game of the speed of minds, the boy could easily win any speed of ... well, basically, he was physically fast. It was the cause of a secured place in the Slytherin Quidditch team, where he did more than decently well. It was one of his pride and joy - his agility. This he put to good use. Kendall neared Athena before grabbing her by the waist, paying no mind to any sort of courtesy, and lifted her up. He managed to lift her above his head for a brief second until her weight disallowed the move to persist. He was agile. He was, regrettably, not strong. Well, not as strong as one would be required to be if he wanted to hold her up and run along.

Instead, Kendall pulled her down as he himself fell on his back towards the ground. Swiftly, he flipped her to make sure that he was on top of her instead. Triumphant, the boy propped himself up, shifted his weight slightly off her, kept her firmly under her, and reached out a hand. "Did Daddy not teach little Thea to keep her hands away from other people's wands? Or was it part of the training for world domination?" Kendall grinned, not realising the sensitivities of his references.

The grass was tall and soft to the touch, brushing against her legs as it bowed to her speed of leg. She tore across the green, her bubbling laughter slowing her down, and continued to laugh, her hair falling from the band she’d momentarily placed it in on the stairs, releasing the curls in all their glory into the air to dance behind her, leaving the sweet scent of rosewater in its wake. She gripped the wand tightly in her grasp, flicking it in places at the grass, uttering a spell long banned to make it grow ever taller. In one patch, a tree began to sprout, growing tall from a little seedling into a proud structure of bark and leaf. Athena did not pay much attention to it, promising to admire her work later, as she tried to get away from Kendall who she could hear pacing towards her at a speed far greater than that that was carrying her away.

The arm that wound around her waist so abruptly provoked a scream to sprout from her chest, followed by another bout of girlish laughter. She didn’t know what it was. Perhaps it was seeing him again, seeing him in such a rural setting. It was the air, the smell of nature and fragrances long replaced by urban sprawl. The nearest place of residence for more than a handful of people was fifteen miles away; and even that was a small hamlet with a dirt track leading in an out winding through the village, entering and exiting at north and south entrances. Athena felt the meals had something to do with it, also. The freedom, the lack of chains, the ability to do magic, the ability to close her eyes without fear of the nightmares that would occur if she did; it was all so important and though the nightmares still came, they weren’t nearly as destructive.

As he lifted her above him, Athena’s giggles came quicker, her breaths faster. She gave a cry, a mixture of fear and delight, as he seemed to buckle. The cry became more of a squeal as he fell back, landing in the soft cushioning blades of grass. Athena thudded against his chest and was not even allowed to regain the breath that had been shocked from her lungs before she was tossed beneath him, his weight not completely uncomfortable but still a shock to her. Her hands found his shoulders and she prodded the wand against his head, her smile teasing. His heat radiated from his body, through the thin layers of clothing between them and began to warm her own, her skin more than happy to be pampered with the heat of his frame.

Athena looked at Kendall with an odd look of contentment on her face. For, you see, the expression was bizarre for such a scene. With her hair splayed out behind her in the flattened grass, her skin pinked with exertion and her eyes alight with wonder and mischief. He, ever Kendall Rookwood, composed and cheeky as ever, as if the outburst had never happened. But then the tide turned, the tone was lowered and his words shattered the delight in her mood. Athena’s expression faltered and her lips came together, her jaw tightening so it was hard and defiant. His body, acting as a cage, prevented her escape and so she turned her head away from him, her breathing growing shallower as anger swelled within her.

Athena didn’t dare dignify his words with a response, for fear of saying something she could not take back. She merely stared ahead, her head turned away from him, her eyes fixed on a ladybird a meter or so away, crawling up the length of one of the blades of grass. Her eyes watered a little and she brought her hand up to wipe away the tears, determined to blame it on hay fever if he were to ask what the matter was. Athena gave a shaky sigh, the sound more like a sob than anything else, and she turned as much as she could below him so that she was curled away from him, finding the simplicity of the ladybird soothing, but no help in finding a diplomatic way of answering him. It still hurt. Naturally. She had a feeling it would but she didn’t think it would cut as deeply as it had done. Her father wasn’t waiting for her at home anymore. He’d never embrace her as he’d done when she was a child. He’d never be there again; not even for a second.

The relationship that was shared between Athena Goyle and Kendall Rookwood had always been a strange one. There was an underlying stability that was never sufficiently tangible, but always subtly hiding beneath the covers of their relationship. Nothing of substantial weight was ever made or said about their union, nor was it constantly acknowledged by either parties. If anything, Kendall had always been far more interested in denying the presence of whatever there was, a presence that seemed to hit them both in waves now. Perhaps it was the comfort and privacy of the environment, or even the absence or distance that had been allowed away from each other; but in that moment, with the sound of rare giggles that had escaped from the throat of the girl, Kendall was happy. The happiness that welled up in him was a foreign subject that he was curious and keen to accept. At least for now, he would allow himself to indulge in what had always been there for him with Athena.

That is, until he had opened his mouth. In typical Kendall fashion, the words that tumbled out of his mouth never went without an effect. In times like this, however, the words would not assist him. His chuckle died as quickly as it surfaced. The beauty of the moment, reflected in her face a second ago, was gone. While it was not in true Kendall fashion to regret the words from his lips, even when they failed to serve him well, he did. The rush of the moment stalled, and Kendall paused in his wild searching look to rest on the girl's face, alarmed with what he had said. And then, as expected, he saw anger. He blinked, once again thrown into the sort of uncertainty he would rarely find himself in. He hated it. He hated Athena for setting up the place of vulnerability for him. He blamed her. And yet, he couldn't gather himself sufficiently to do the cruel and wiser thing. No, Kendall couldn't simply stand up and walk away. The sound from her throat that he was sure she let out unintentionally was enough to convince him to stay. Now what, though?

Unsure of himself, and even more of the words that should fall from his lips again, Kendall made a decision in what must have been merely a split second. Without much of a warning, the boy leaned back down, closer towards Athena. Even with her head directed away from him, he forced his way, or his face, rather, to hers. And in that sudden motion, he lunged for a kiss. When he did, his intention was to smother the look from her face, to tackle the dismay, to chase the anger, and to shove back the contentment that he didn't know how to make now for her. What else was he expected to do? He was a boy. No, correction. He was Kendall Rookwood. How could he apologise to anyone, or really, how could he show any kind of remorse to anyone? That was supposed to be unheard of, let alone be seen by someone whose opinion really mattered to him. With the strength from his shoulders, Kendall pressed his body's weight against Athena's, ensuring that she stayed, but hardly doing it in a gracious way. When his lips found hers, it had no regard for her opinion. It was there to impose whatever he assumed would fix the circumstances. Besides, he missed her. He missed her so very much. He was going to pour the weight of all of that into the force of his kiss.

As the couple squandered their most precious moments together, replacing their weightless happiness with loaded, negative emotions, life continued on. Through the perimeter of trees, a stag and his doe wandered side by side, silence having lapsed between them as they walked the familiar beaten track to the pool of crystal waters within the very heart of the copse where all manner of woodland animals descended to drink. A handful of rabbits that appeared to be entirely composed of fluff were already bounding ahead of the deer having hopped and skipped from the south entrance of their warren below their feet. Birds dipped and dived below the canopy of trees above that let only the thinnest of shards of light through the floor that still defiantly brimmed with life despite its hardship. The procession made it to the waters in a timely enough manner, all lowering their heads to the still in a similarly measured fashion. The deer bowed to the waters, their frames opposing one another across the sumptuous blue of the pool. Her eyes lifted as she lapped gently at the water’s edge, a gaze he met with a doubled intensity.

Further downstream, the wind picked and rose up into the still, unwavering atmosphere. The proud firs that had flanked the delicately flowing stream for centuries longer than the human mind would deign to imagine rustled as the breeze blew through their coarse outer shell of photosynthesised vert. The chill that danced through the vibrant copse invoked a shudder in the mammals above ground that declared their home within the trees. The gust blew north, passing through the blush-coloured curls of the vegetation that lined the very outskirts of the woodland, breaking the repetitive shades of viridian. The draft took with it the locks of fuchsia that had in vain clung so desperately to the climbing, brittle branches of the trees. It brushed over the expanse of grass that lay out in a fan before the imposing structure that was the newest house of Krum. It combed like a lover’s fingers through the head of leafy hair that crowned the tree that had burst so tremendously from seed, aided by a wayward spell that had glided so elegantly, though regrettably directionless, from the expertly carved wand that was mastered by Kendall Rookwood.

The breeze brushed over the couple lain within the soft cushion of nature that spread out so vibrantly, achingly free, before the eyes of those cast their gaze through the open windows above or from the patio, their conversation having momentarily lapsed into silence, their attention stolen by the beauty of the scene. The woman laid below her lover wore and expression of a creature cut deeper than any superficial laceration to the skin. Her eyes were moist with tears unshed, her lips coloured rouge left over from their kiss. Her fingers drifted through the blades of grass, gliding down the leaf and stem, walking the tips gently, hesitantly across the dark earth below the nigh-impenetrable layer of jade. His kiss had been bruising, an insensitive action to run parallel with his words. It was not a show of affection, more an attempt in vain to turn her mood once more to something palatable. Her position below his heavier frame did not lend for movements of rejection but her actions alone were enough to communicate her displeasure, the cutting of her teeth against his lips hardly a motion of acquiescence to him.

The bright, albeit dulled gaze turned hesitantly to sienna stare of the man above her. Her lips parted in the hope an apology would pass between them but no such thing spread between them into the air. Her expression betrayed her hurt more than it did her regret and she brought her lips back to a close, her eyes searching his expression, imploring with him to understand. Her fingers found the solidity of his jaw, the angular bone structure set defiantly in his dismay. Her touch was tender despite the flare of her hatred of him in the earlier moments that had passed between them. Her other hand found his arm and her fingers curled around as much of his forearm as their length would allow and she applied the slightest of pressure, a squeeze, in what she hoped was reassurance; in what she hoped could be communicated as a ‘sorry’, as her gaze attempted to tell him that it was a word that he owed her just as she owed it to him.

As his glare faded to assume a sustained scowl, the tight grip that he had on the sides of Athena's shoulders began to loosen. Kendall refused to check for whatever injury he might have picked up from the bite in response to his brash move. The yelp he had let out in response was sufficiently embarrassing. He could do without checking for the place of pain in an act that would acknowledge the very presence of it. Besides, in a sudden turn of mood, out of sheer pleasure at the fight in the girl, Kendall began to smirk in amusement. Why was he so angry in the first place anyway?

In a strange turn of that mood, his anger now seemed completely ridiculous, and certainly uncalled for. Perhaps it was the bite that had cleared his head, but what was sure was that he had actually relished the move against himself. Of course, with a yelp, he had stopped forcefully attempting to have his way with her. He was jolted out of stupidity. He was Kendall Rookwood. He didn't have to resort to that. No, not until perhaps when he turns ... ninety. That, he was sure about for himself. Of course, it was a very subjective and personal opinion.

Kendall parted his lips to speak, but stopped just as he felt Athena's touch. While nothing was being said, the touch sufficiently stopped him in his figurative tracks. A blink, then another. The emotions, whatever they were, Kendall knew, were exchanged in that long pregnant pause through the look in their eyes. He was hardly sure if it pleased him at all. Wasn't it all a bit too early to have? Of course, he was fooling himself. Whatever there was between the two had been there since ... Merlin knows when. Did he really have to face it now though? As emotions stared him in the face, Kendall shook his head.

He leaned back down towards the girl again. This time, Kendall made for her left ear. "Nice bite," a tone of challenge directed, before a nibble on her earlobe that was far more affectionate than intended. Overwhelmed by the smell of Athena from where he had positioned his face to explore, Kendall trailed back to the girl's lips and took them to dance with his. The hands that were harsh before relented as one allowed him to rest his weight on an elbow, and the other held a side of her face as he prolonged the kiss that he had been looking for even during his visit to Azkaban.

"Is this it?" A question that was intended to challenge Athena to more. He had come to expect so much from the girl. It was as if he could not understand why she did not put up more of a fight with him. Kendall smirked in mock triumph. "Athena Marianne Goyle ..." He pronounced her name slowly and deliberately, rolling the sounds off his tongue with relish. "You fascinate me." A rare confession that he couldn't keep from falling from his lips. With his thumb, Kendall began to draw circles on the girl's right cheek, even as the rest of his fingers enjoyed what was left of the cheek that Azkaban had dealt a dent to.

"Using an Unforgivable Curse, thrown into Azkaban, stole my wand, escaped from Azkaban ... You were dead ... well, supposed to be. And here you are, alive from the dead." The verbal expression of the list of things that had earned her his respect merely masked the swelling of pride and affection that Kendall felt towards Athena. It was a tender moment that was rare between the two. Perhaps the last time he was ever even tender with the girl was after the now seemingly juvenile disaster that took place after the party. He had promised, then, to take care of her. And then, in what was later a deep fear of attachment to someone who wasn't family, and someone he compelled himself to label as a stranger, he had turned his back on her. The distance that was forcefully enacted between the two was unbearable because of the feelings that were sealed that night, and yet, bearable because Kendall felt safe from falling. In an attempt to dispel the intent look he had given Athena, the boy blinked, then smirked in typical Kendall fashion, as if the act itself would assert the composure of indifference he desired for.

The breeze continued to disrupt and puncture the stillness of the air, carrying with it the fragrances of the woods and the perfumes of the flowers that grew there, the more pleasant trim of an outwardly threatening forest. The magic in the air seemed to crackle and whip on the breeze, random growth of the grass, of flowers whose seeds had never really made themselves known to the world. The grass seemed to grow ever longer around the couple, concealing them from private eyes but allowing the heat of the sun above to still shine down upon their bodies, warming their skin. Their skin seemed to grow healthier, the pigment taking the rays with little complain, turning beneath the surface to stain their skin a healthy, sun-kissed glow. Athena’s skin seemed to glow with the health that being with Elijah in the highlands had given her. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the exertion before and her dismay moments ago but as the sun warmed them she began to feel lighter, happier, even.

Athena’s stubbornness refused to budge and though she wanted to, she did not turn her head to face him. Instead she stared ahead, into the thick jungle of viridian that stretched out before her, seemingly never ending. Her breathing hitched when his breath skimmed her ear. Her eyes flicked across in a manner both accusing of Kendall but not altogether asking him to stop in his ministrations. Athena couldn’t quite stop herself from squirming though and she felt her lips curve upwards; she was ticklish. Athena managed to just about stifle her laughter but that did not prevent a stray giggle from skipping from between her lips. She brought her hand to her face and covered her mouth, her cheeks flushing with colour. Athena blinked up at Kendall questioningly when he edged closer to her and she found her hand slip from over her mouth, her long, spindly fingers replaced by his almost womanly-soft lips. Her return of the kiss was hesitant and though she was reluctant she slowly began to warm to him, her anger dissolving into the air, forgotten and out of mind.

Her eyes widened a little when he pulled away from her, her lips coming together in a soft pout. Her eyebrows rose a little and she leaned up a little, meeting his gaze with a challenging glint in her blue orbs. “Do I really?” She whispered huskily, a smirk curling at her lips. Athena laughed a little as he listed off what had happened over the last four months or so. “Impressed?” She inquired jovially, bringing her hands to his face. She rubbed her thumbs across his cheek bones and tipped her head to the side as she observed him curiously. “I missed you.” She admitted to him quietly. “Who’d have thought it, eh, that your annoyingness would become endearing?” She smiled widely at him and brought her head up to meet his, brushing her lips gently against his cheek. “We have a new chapter to write, Kendall Rookwood. What is the first order of business?”

(Bleargh. Merr. Rubbish)

There was certainly no doubt about one of the major decisions that was to be made in his life. That is, there was hardly a doubt in the boy's mind, now. It was only a matter of time. Still, the matter of time was what became of extreme importance to him. He feared the drawing near of the day that he would cease to be just his own man. No, Kendall was determined to delay the deadline when he would become his own man with a woman by his side, permanently. While he was convinced that Athena was hardly the sort of woman who was going to literally stay by his side substantially, the thought of marriage still brought sentiments of dread.

At this moment and time, however, he was beginning to warm to it. While Augustus had previously been approving of the suggested union, especially after exasperation from his own ones, the older man would withdraw his enthusiasm for the match now. That is, if he even knew that Athena was still alive. Kendall, however, gave no consideration to the stain that was now proven about the girl's background. This was no place for the politics of the Pureblood families. Not yet, at least. Kendall was to learn, soon enough, that there was a limit to his father's affections.

Kendall began to shrink away from Athena's admission. He missed her. Merlin knows how much he had missed her. But he didn't want to have to admit it, even as she was pushing him close to do so with hers. He was more interested in another sort of intimacy, really. The other one was easy and familiar. But, then, the compliment. Kendall halted himself before he could move away from where he was, very near to the girl's face. A smirk, then a grin, as he couldn't contain the delight he felt from what she had said. The boy lowered his face obligingly as he felt Athena's lips press gently against his cheek.

"The order of business," He began with a glint of mischief back in his eyes. "Would best begin in reminding you of all the things that would make me endearing to you, my lady." Kendall chuckled. With his left elbow still supporting his weight, the boy lowered his body so that it was firmly rested against Athena's. He ran a hand through his hair and smirked. Soon, the same hand began to explore the girl's neck with its fingertips. After a wider smirk, Kendall leaned forward and started from Athena's ear again. By the time his lips had replaced his fingers at her neck, the latter had found their way to the small of her back, after a slow and teasing journey through the wonders of her chest.

Kendall had no trouble feeling the first stirrings of his excitement. He had waited long enough for this. The aching months of indifference after the night after the party would, it seems, culminate in this. The boy had attempted to replace memories and yearnings for Athena, with the cheap gratifications of passion supplied by the random girls that merely held value for that very purpose. Still, he didn't complain. He was Kendall Rookwood. And everytime that name was used as reason enough to justify his actions and supposed greatness. So he was just being himself, and he never failed to still enjoy the serial romps of diminishing value.

As the boy began to get carried away by the promise of his desire, he pulled Athena up and closer towards him. With his hand at the girl's derrière, Kendall pulled her closer as he pressed himself against the pleasure that would be provided by the space between her thighs. Unable to contain his excitement, Kendall immediately launched for an attack at Athena's lips, devouring them far more hungrily than he had earlier, breaking the tease that he had intended to prolong, giving in to headiness of her being so close to him. A hand began to creep its way under the smooth fabric of the girl's dress. Then, it stopped at where it was abruptly. Kendall released Athena's lips from his as he made no effort to mask his surprise. A chuckle escaped his lips. A smirk followed, before a cheeky lick of his own lips. And then he returned his lips to hers, as he allowed his hand to move at liberty from under the fabric, enjoying the heat that Athena was beginning to emanate.