The Lady in the Portrait

Gibbs turned and smiled upon seeing his sister-in-law. He walked over to where she was stood and kissed her cheek. “That little... thing is the cause of me being here. Unfortunately I found him when he was going through one of the stages of art-withdrawal and he decided that we get in some ‘bonding’ or whatever. Don’t let me ever, in the event I have children, encourage my son to turn to the world of art as an outlet. I have never seen someone smoke as much as he does. I have no idea where he gets them from but he has this bizarre belief that in the event that he has a near-death experience with said cigarettes the fact that your father is an exceptionally powerful wizard.... I’m trailing off. He thinks that your dad will bail him out basically.”

He turned once more at the sound of another voice and smiled at the woman. He walked to her and took her hand, kissing the back of it in a gentlemanly manner. “Leroy Jethro Gibbs, ma’am.” He introduced. “Call me Gibbs though. It’s much preferred.” He rose to his full height and noticed the six foot imbecile staring at some of the pottery work and jewellery that was on sale. He scowled a little and shook his head, wondering how he had become France’s hottest and richest artist. He knew Eli had billions tucked away somewhere but where was an entirely different question. He doubted that the kid knew himself. It was probably all in Euros in a bank somewhere in Paris.

“I am not an imbecile!” Eli exclaimed, walking over as he typed random things into a phone that he seemed to have pulled from thin air. “I am actually fairly intelligent when it suits. Khaat where’s your mum? She owns this place doesn’t she? I’d like a word.”

"She's here," Khaat said. She went over to where her mother was stocking shelves and brought her back. "Eli," she said, "This is my mother, Katherine Lupin. Mom, this is Elijah Krum. He and his daughter live with me. And he is an extremely talented artist."

Khaat watched as Katherine reached out and shook Eli's hand, "I am so glad to meet you. You are a marvelously talented young man, Mr. Krum. I've seen some of your work in Paris. Khaat's father and I go there every so often, and we often look at paintings in particular."

"My mother paints too," Khaat said.

"Oh, honey, I dabble," Katherine laughed. "Mr. Krum is a remarkable talent. My efforts do not compare,"

"I don't know. I like this woman you did. I just wish I knew who she was," Khaat said softly.

“I’m alright.” Eli said a little bashfully. He was worried, half of the time in Paris his dealers were as sleazy as the women he painted and most of them were far too drunk to tell what they were putting on display. They usually got loads for the paintings though which was probably why Eli kept going back. He bit his lip and laughed uneasily. “Which ones have you seen? Anne Marie’s were the uh ... most popular.” He said, thinking back to the relationship he’d had with the model for a while during his year in Paris towards the end before he’d met Fauve. They were the best sale but mostly because she was shameless and didn’t care what part of her you painted. It did embarrass Eli sometimes, especially when he was talking to honest people who liked the art. Unless she meant the landscapes then he was screwed because he’d have to explain Anne Marie’s.

The ones he did of Camille were also very popular. He loved the contrast of her chestnut hair, the red sheet he draped over her and the smear of the same crimson lipstick across her lips. She was very, very beautiful and was probably his favourite model. She was self-respecting unlike the rest and he was dutiful when courting her. She was, and still is very beautiful. But then there was Claire during the stage he only used black and white. Those sold but were also more like photographs which was what made them so unique. His favourite was where she was sat in the window of his studio smoking with the Eiffel Tower there for her to look out at. It was a beautiful photograph, one he still had, and an even more beautiful painting even if he said so himself. He went through more phases that year than most artists did in a lifetime.

“What ones have you seen?” he asked seriously with a hint of humour. “Save me the embarrassment. Some of them are quite..... um, well not exactly your normal paintings.” Well, they were normal for Paris but some of them, during the summer, had turned from paintings of women to sex on canvas. The reception from the buyers was insane and that was when Eli’s fame had really soared. He just expected that the dealer’s trophy wives weren’t putting out so they had to resort to raunchy paintings done by a minor that had done some serious ‘research’ before completing the project.

Eli walked over to the counter and took the painting off of the stand and looked at it with a keen artist’s eye. He would have loved to paint her; just her face would have been enough. She was flawless, even to the tendrils that had fallen out of the hair tie. Eli smiled and put the portrait back on the stand and he heard a sharp intake of breath. He looked up to see Gibbs blinking stupidly. Eli smirked and pushed his chin up, effectively closing the man’s jaw. “I-I know her.” Gibbs mumbled.
“Nah, she’s too good for you.” Eli scoffed playfully. “Look at the bone structure. Wow, you’d make good kids. Don’t look at me like that you would. Where is she? I’d love to draw her!”
“I haven’t seen her in years.” Gibbs said thoughtfully. “Weird how she comes back into my life as a painting, really.”

"I wish I knew where she was, Eli," Khaat said softly. "I keep seeing her in my sleep. Nightmares. Night after night after night. I don't know who she is or where she is. But the nightmares are hideous. If you know her at all, Gibbs, tell me so I can find her. I'm hoping they're just dreams, but...I think she's really in trouble. Deep trouble. I think they're visions. Not just nightmares. Who is she, Gibbs?"

Khaat thought about her nightmares of the woman--held in magically escape-proof shackles, bruised, beaten, tortured. Sometimes she had seen the beatings in her dreams. She was being held in a dark, damp, cellar type of space. Sometimes she had seen the woman shiver in the cold. She'd never heard her cry out, no matter what was done to her. She was a strong woman, with a beautiful face, and a warrior's heart. But if Khaat couldn't get to her soon, this beautiful woman, Khaat believed, would die.

"So she does exist after all," Katherine said. "I wonder why I couldn't find her in my pensieve. Gibbs, Khaat is a talented seer. If she thinks this woman is in trouble, more than likely, she's right."

“Khaat,” Gibbs laughed uneasily. “There’s this guy, I haven’t known him long but I met him at his wedding. Married a nice lass who reminds me oddly enough of Dorothy from that book but I also remember that this man is stupidly over-protective. Rob would kill me and then you if I let you go. I don’t think I could forgive myself if I let you go either.” Gibbs knew that Ziva’s father had to have had something to do with her obvious imprisonment. He sighed and took the portrait off of the stand to look at it closely. “No, clearly she’s being smarter about her predicament than I would have thought. She is learning.” He smirked and put the painting back on the stand. “I’ll retrieve her. You’re not going anywhere Khaat.”

"Then we'd better talk. You're going to need everything I have if you're going to find her," Khaat said. "You're right. Rob would never let me go. Ever. But I'll tell you what I know. Maybe it will help."

Katherine, however, was much more fascinated with Eli. "I have seen a variety of pieces of your work, Mr. Krum. A number of different paintings of women, and a number of landscapes. I have seen several of Anne Marie, some of Claire and Camille. Personally, I thought they were all brilliant. Don't let yourself ever be ashamed of your work. Remember, no one is going to see your work through your eyes. They will all have their own interpretation of it, and that is how it should be. It speaks to every person individually. And, personally, I think you're judging yourself too harshly. Even some of Anne Marie's that are a bit, unconventional, shall we say?--I thought they were brilliantly done. Myself-- I bought one of the lights of Paris at night, looking down towards the Eiffel Tower. I loved your observations and interpretation of the lights and how they reflect on the city. You don't charge nearly enough for them, you know. Or at least that one was not priced nearly well enough. I hope you have a better agent now. You could have gotten double for that one.

"Oh, and Robert, my husband, has a huge seascape of yours in his study. It is enormous and has a gorgeous beach with some seashells. It gives him a lot of peace when his mind is troubled. I don't think it had been in the gallery even a day when Robert saw it and bought it on the spot. I would really love to see more of your work sometime. Robert and I love to collect fine art. I'm quite sure he would be equally as interested in anything you could show us."

“Oh right.” He laughed uneasily and shook his head. “I’m not ashamed it’s just I mean some of it is pretty weird. My paintings....in Paris it feels as if I’m in an entirely different world so I don’t really imagine people having any here. I would never have suggested even thinking about buying one of Anne Marie.” He smirked. “My mum is pretty vocal about that. She’s still annoyed that I’m not going to work at the Ministry or be a Quidditch player. I don’t think my dad can wrap his head around the fact that his son knows the ins and outs of a woman better than he does. Kind of ironic really.” He shrugged. “I didn’t particularly like that one so I let my dealer sell it for whatever. I didn’t like that set at all. The photos were a lot better in my opinion. My agent loves money so he just goes by what I want for them. He’ll sometimes get quite a bit more but I don’t usually want as much as he thinks they’re worth.”

Eli brightened up a little at the mention of the seascape. That was towards the very end that was painted over a series of days. He finished it a couple of days before he found Fauve if he remembered rightly but he couldn’t be sure for certain. “Oh yeah, I mean my studio in Paris is still filled with stuff that never went on show. Sketches and stuff I have by the truck load so you can’t ever say I haven’t got anything to sell.” He smirked. “But yeah, I’d love to show you some stuff.”

"That would be wonderful," Katherine smiled. "We would surely enjoy that. I have an enormous studio at the farm. If you ever decide you want a very large open space to work in, you're welcome to use the studio or the farm anytime you like. The studio actually occupies one whole wing of our house, and its is set up for many different kinds of art. Painting, all kinds of sculpture, metal work, jewelry making, glass making, pretty much anything. And it has windows on almost every side, and in the ceiling, so the light is always excellent, even on a bad weather day. And I'm sure there are plenty of things for your daughter to do on the farm. I have all kinds of magical creatures. Including a whole litter of pygmy puffs that somehow came out rainbow colored. Poor little misfits. She might enjoy seeing them."

Katherine noticed Khaat and Gibbs deep in a talk about the painting. "Khaat, why don't you take him to the back and get some of your father's blackberry tea? There's a fresh pot on. That way you can talk more privately."

"Excellent idea," Khaat said, "Gibbs? Shall we?"

Jessica took nicaluse from Kathrine and placed him in the pram next to his sister . she had stood silant all this time as she didn't know what to say but now she really thought she was the thrid wheel here. Strapping each baby in she wrapped a blanket over each then stood up to hear Khaat say she would take tea and talk to Gibbs and Eli in the back room , now she really did feel not apart of things "Khaat Im taking these two home , not really much point in me staying, guess I'll see you next time you want to talk. " she pushed the pram to the door, opening it, she stopped feeling a bit lost in the whole situation. She hoped things would pan out. But for her it was back to her home, once more to sit, cook or clean. She pushed her pram out into the alley and walked slowly up the path. "why is it your mom never gets dragged into an adventure like Khaat , humm or if she dose shes the first to be never asked to help" she sighed as she stopped as Nicaus kiked off his blanket yet again. It was then she noticed one of the bottles was missing and she turned back to the store "sorry did you see a baby bottle around" she spotted it on the counter but decided she would saty abit longer , home was empty right now and she really needed company not the emptyness of her house.

Khaat had noticed that Jess had gone, but she also knew Jess had been a little moody at times lately. Khaat put it to her hormones adjusting. She just was not able to go running down the alley after her to go chase her. It had to be her choice about coming or going, because Khaat was almost 5 months pregnant, and the running had had to stop awhile back now.

"Glad you came back," she said quietly, not sure what to make of her right now. "We're going to go back and try some of Daddy's tea in a moment. You know you're welcome to come. I need to tell Gibbs what I know so he can go and rescue this lady. Gibbs is right. This is one adventure I can't go on. I can't even go with him. I'd only hinder him and slow him down. He needs to do this by himself. " She led the way to the back room, motioning for whoever wanted to follow to come along.