The Matter of Survival and of Family; Our Family.

Such domesticity had never been what Athena had envisioned for herself. She’d known even as a child that her blood would not yield any marriages that would hold great promise for her social position and so she had been forced to make plans in the place of that. As a dreamy forth year she had drawn pictures of herself scaling mountains and fighting dragons. She had imagined herself racing down rivers in rickety little boats as the rapids tossed her from side to side and she’d honed her skills in the dead of night in one of the dungeon classrooms in order to beat those that she believed would come to duel her when she grew up. Needless to say, her reality was much different to what she’d dreamed of as a teenager.

Her father had never put much effort into trying to gain her a betrothal, knowing how she would be received by the social life of his birthright should they be informed of her true origins. Athena was most assuredly pureblood but it was the integrity of her mother’s side that had worried those who Gregory had told, anxious to provide for his daughter’s future but unsure as to how he would manage to do so. In the end they all decided that the best course of action was to instruct the girl as best as possible and pray that she would make her own way with relative success. Athena believed she had at least found herself moderately successful; she certainly felt as though she’d made her father happy.

Kendall had never been Athena’s idea of Prince Charming and in many ways he’d been the opposite. She had found him positively detestable when they were younger and as they had grown into Hogwarts she hadn’t found him particularly palatable either though granted she was learning to tolerate him. It wasn’t until she’d taken it upon herself to have a rifle through the boy’s dormitory that they’d truly gelled – in more ways than one. From there, their relationship seemed only to escalate to the point where jealousy seemed to only do but bite at them. Then suddenly there was just this dependence that was unshakable between them until eventually they found themselves waking up to each other every morning. Athena, in hindsight, wouldn’t have had it any other way.

The woman also had never considered becoming a mother, either – and certainly not to Kendall’s children. But she had suffered the agony of her multiples only to be handed her sons, her innocent boys who needed her and Kendall more than anyone else in the world. She had fallen in love with her boys and was determined that she was going to do right by them. She ensured that they had the best of everything – refusing to hold back on any expense if it would help them alone. She already had in her mind’s eye what kind of education they’d get and she was determined that they would succeed their parents in much better stead than Athena and Kendall had ever been.

Athena gasped when her vision was blocked and she turned, finding Kendall behind her. She smiled and looked back at the boys. Her hands covered Kendall’s as they wound around her waist and she leaned her head back to press a kiss against his temple before returning her gaze to their sons. Athena leaned over a little bit to cover over the wriggling feet of Archibald and immediately the baby screwed up his face as if threatening to cry.

“Ah!” Athena warned him, gently. The boys returned his googly, curious eyes to his mother and a lopsided smile formed on his mouth, as if he knew she was aware of his little game. Athena tiucked the pair in a little more in order to brace them from the cold and looked up to see the girls dutifully carrying the picnic basket.

“Aren’t you clever?” Athena smiled brightly and left Kendall with the boys as she strode over to meet the girls. Athena took the basket from them and straightened out Aurelia’s jumper before asking, “Have you got everything? Hats? Scarves? Gloves? Face masks and skis?” The girls giggled – even they knew the last one was ridiculous – and Athena found herself laughing too.

Athena made sure the girls were all suited and booted before she herself slipped a cloak around her shoulders – though not before pressing a thick cloak around Kendall’s. She took the basket in her hands again and held onto Cecilia’s hand before allowing Aurelia to lead them out of the door from the other side of her sister.

“Off to the picnic!” Athena exclaimed, excited perhaps more than the children were.

Spoiler:

Before Rookwood Manor was the village of Rookwood. Was. In fact, it was a village with a name that had been lost, now. It was a name that spoke of life before, and the death that followed. Now, though, the land stood simply as the home of the Rookwoods. As the last of the winter chill lingered in the air, the land seemed to hark back to a time when there was more than just the Rookwoods. The trees whistled along to the wind, seemingly carrying the tune of people who once took shelter and pleasure, in the varied greens that towered over them. The river was quiet, flowing ever so slightly with a sombre reminiscence of the life that used to dance along to its course. Yet, the green that held them, the people then, was new and forgetful. It wasn’t a surprise, really. Grass was always going to be the strongest. It adapted, and it accepted. After all, as far back as the very first days of human acknowledgement of the land, it seems, the Rookwoods were inevitable and present. It was theirs to make or break, to celebrate or lament, and to welcome or to bar.

In the days of old, how old exactly is not the issue here, the Rookwoods were few. The people of this land lived as simple folk, contented with the company of nature and man, and at peace with all. In the middle of it stood the humble home of Rookwood, a family that was barely seen, but always talked about. While the community toiled and celebrated the land together, there was, it was said, something odd about the Rookwoods. At first, the only thing that could be said about the people and their ways of living was strange. Then, as the jokes and the talk wore on, the stories seemed to reflect the first sense of fear of the abject centre of the land. People began to fear, but most were accused of hallucinations. Things were seen, and spoken of, but put down as being ridiculous. The disbelief, or the denial, was undoubtedly driven by fear. Yet, nothing could quell it.

Fear grew, as fear does. Then, the witch-hunt began in lands all over the country. Encouraged but afraid, the village turned on itself. The people had no doubt that the Rookwoods were a sinister bunch. It wasn’t a secret anymore. Yet, for fear of confrontation with the very people they believed to have accommodated the devil for as long as they could remember, the villagers turned to the women as scapegoats, as examples. With passive aggression, the men hunted the women who were single, and promiscuous, or just a bit strange. The burnings were done not too far off the periphery of the house of the Rookwoods who, despite no evidence of toil, seemed to have the biggest house of all. It was big, alright; but nobody wanted it. All that the villagers desired was to storm through the property, to kill and burn and destroy what they feared. It wasn’t a secret. Yet, naïve as they were, they believed that there was safety in numbers.

When the killings began, no one wanted to believe it. The first victims became mere stories, before the next round of murder became warnings. The celebrations ceased. Fear, suspicions, and anger grew. The men now wanted to be heroes, where previously they turned on the women of the land they claimed to possess and protect. There was a plan. It was believed to be made in great secrecy. And it was a great plan, it was said. Yet, one by one, the men with the plan could never be found again. The women feared, but mostly for their children. Who was going to protect them? There was, by now, something clearly wrong about the house of the Rookwoods. One could not look at it and not be transfixed by fear. For that very same reason, people began to ignore its existence. The feat wasn’t simply. After all, the house did stand at the very centre of the village, near the river where life flowed. For many, many years, the villagers had to live with that.

Then, the murder happened. This time, it wasn’t one from the village. No. A plan had worked. And for a night, the villagers celebrated quietly. The oldest of the Rookwood boy, who surely was a young man then, was dead. Unlike the rest of the family, this man was a sight about the village. People actually saw him. He had no fear, even though his presence did nothing more than pave the roads for him as it inspired the same fear people held for the family. Then, that day, he was murdered. It was a warning, the villagers thought, and an act of revenge for some, for the loss of their men, years ago. Finally, the people thought, with the revenge, there could be a truce. Then, perhaps, they could stop living in fear. The first night, after the spilling of Rookwood blood, the people feasted quietly in their homes. The second night, no one made it out alive.

The sun shone, despite the remaining chill on the land. Kendall watched a flight of birds high up in the sky, before reverting his eyes back to the boys, the youngest of the descendants of the family of Rookwood. He watched them in their peace, and beamed with pride once more at the work that he credited to himself. And of course, to his wife. There had always been something sad about the land around him. As a boy, Kendall never took pleasure in roaming about the grounds alone. From the earliest of time in his life, Cordelia had been there, watching him as he trampled the grass of the grounds. He remembered her laughter when he did something to impress her. He remembered, too, her voice when she sang to him as he laid his head on her lap and watch the clouds move, before dozing off to the serenity of everything. Those were the days when Father was not around for his lessons. Augustus had insisted on Kendall starting young, and the older man far preferred to assume the role of tutor himself, much to the dismay of Raghnall. Yet, at times when Father was away, Kendall could always count on a visit to the grounds and the river, with Mother in tow.

Struck by the memory, Kendall turned and watched the barely moving water, frowning at the emotions that were still raw. Yet, it felt better than the stifling gloom of what was still waiting for him in the manor. There was movement in the wind, as if it reminded him of the indecisive nature of emotions, and the temporality of time. Turning back, he returned to his sons and brought them both out of the pram. One looked at the man with great curiosity, as if sensing the torrent of emotions that flooded through his father. The other, however, was more interested in the land, just as Kendall was in his earlier days. There was no reflection done, then. It was pure wonder and discovery. It was good. With one boy to each arm, Kendall brought the boys close to his chest and surveyed the area on his own. He began to stroll away from the river heading for the lake, and looking towards the trees. Then, as if he remembered who else he had for company, the man turned and spied on the girls. It wasn’t long before he watched Athena from a short distance, not realising how he must have looked. He watched as the wind took hold of some bits of her hair, and began to dance with them. And as the wind carried itself to him, it was as if he could catch whiffs of Athena that he knew without a doubt, and that he knew intimately. With that, he began to smile to himself.

There must have been something in the blood of Rookwoods for they all walked with a similar swagger to them, a confidence that would have been distasteful and unbecoming on any other wizard. Even the girls moved with a quiet confidence that betrayed them as Rookwoods and to Athena it was an amusing sight to see. Once out on the verdant green plains that stretched out like a fan around the manor house. The lands were scorched still with the buildings that had once reached for the skyline and despite the domination of nature over what was once made by man still owned the fields. The girls seemed to know themselves the familiar beaten track and so spread off from Athena who trudged behind them and skipped up the embankment in search of somewhere to sit.

Athena tucked her hands into the pockets of her cloak and followed the bouncy Aurelia who appeared to have discovered something in the tall grass. As Athena reached the girl, she held up a glint of red and gold in her small fist and emptied the contents into the waiting palms of Athena who turned over what appeared to be an ornate broach. Athena gasped and knelt down to show the girl. With a flick of her wand she cleaned off the broach that had been stained with mud and pinned it to Aurelia’s cloak. The girl’s smile broadened and she rushed off, leaving Athena’s side, to find her sister who would no doubt demand her own once jealousy set in but it was not something that Athena could promise. It seemed as if it had been discarded by accident, decades ago.

Stealing a look up at her husband, Athena was momentarily shocked to find that Kendall had discarded the pram but upon further inspection she realised that he had removed the boys from it and though she was relaxed at that notion, she could not help but wonder why on earth he’d want to take them out. They were a handful enough by their lonesome. Athena could never hold them together unless she was sat down and that only happened when one kicked up a fuss that the other got to eat while he didn’t. Clearly it was a dad thing, she thought.

Athena’s attention was taken by the girls once more with another shout and she rushed over to find that the pair had scavenged yet another piece of jewellery. Athena’s eyebrows furrowed this time. One was fine and dandy, a coincident, but another? The girls, once the broach had been pinned to Cecilia’s cloak, sped off again and Athena found a lone tree that had grown abundant with winter fruits. It’s fine leaves provided more than an enough shade from the sun but also kept the warmth of it and so Athena set down the picnic blanket before lowering herself to the ground, content to watch the girls as they roamed about, now suddenly treasure hunters.

Curling her legs under herself, Athena enjoyed the brush of the sunshine against her cheeks that had been so rare. She was glad to be out of the gloom of the house and she was infinitely grateful that she had avoided an exchange of wits and barbed words with Thaddeus that morning for she had not the patience for it and most likely would have bickered with Raghnall in the likely event that she cursed him instead of responding to his provocations.

The scream of Cecilia broke Athena’s momentary peace and she opened her eyes to see the little girl careering down the embankment as fast as her legs could carry her. The child launched herself into Athena’s arms and it was only then that Athena saw what Aurelia held: a toad. A single frown made the elder girl stop and it gave the toad time to escape. Aurelia came to Athena with a petulance that reminded the elder woman of her husband and Athena laughed, pressing a kiss to Aurelia’s forehead before poking at Cecilia’s side, assuring the girl that there were no toads anymore.

“Do you think Archie will like toads?” Aurelia asked, sitting herself down next to Athena who laughed in response.

“You’ll just have to wait and see when he gets a bit older, won’t you?” The woman indulged. “Now, how about some food? I’m sure your brother will be down in a minute.” Athena drew the basket towards her and opened it up. “Let’s see...what do we have here?” she inquired rhetorically with a smile as she and the girls peered into the basket.

He had a moment, or at least he tried. It lasted for a decent few minutes, too. And then, suddenly, as the wind continued to blow the last winter chill across the land, the boys began to struggle against his chest, and the crying began. Kendall felt his eyes grow wide, before turning them back quickly in the direction of his wife, who would have easily known what the cause was, and who would also know what to do next. Unfortunately, Athena was too far to see the pleading helplessness in his eyes. Once he realised this, Kendall made for the pram with as much speed as he could muster while still holding the twins. When the first one was placed into the warmth of the pram again, the man shifted him hastily to make way for the other. Yet, the cries grew louder. Kendall glared at the boys but attempt to hush the commotion with the promise of Athena’s touch in a minute. Still, none paid him the attention he would have liked. An audible sigh escaped the man’s lips before he gripped the handle of the pram, turned to the direction of the girls, and began to rush over to his wife.

Despite the mild glow of the sun, the promise of heat was but a façade. It wasn’t unbearably cold, thankfully; but Kendall was glad that Athena had thrown a coat on him when he was intent on going out and about on the grounds without it. She knew better, or rather, she actually knew how to take care of him. Kendall shook the thought off from his mind. No, he could do it on his own. He was a man, his own man. The rise in the cries of the boys shook the man from his thoughts. Once again, he turned to look helplessly at Athena, now that he was near enough to hand the crisis over to her. Times like these he knew that she was at the rein of things when it came to the boys, and he had no intentions to take them from her. Besides, he couldn’t. Once his hands left the pram, the man was soon nearer to the picnic basket than the babies. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with them. They were just such a force to be reckoned with at the moment that he could really do with tea and a sit-down. Or, even better, Kendall smirked to himself as he spied the contents of the basket, he could really do with some wine.

With a sheepish smile, he turned away from her and back to the basket again. This time, he reached for the bottle and twisted the cap that held back the very taste that he needed. Quickly, Kendall brought out two glasses, not knowing if the wine was brought for just how benefit or for the two, and really not checking for her response either. Then, after he had poured the dark liquid into two glasses, he looked to see the faces of his sisters. He eyed them with hesitation, before shrugging and bringing out two teacups, and filling them with just a little bit of wine. Grinning, he twisted the cap of the bottle back and gestured for the girls to have a taste. In response, the girls looked to the woman with uncertainty, as if requiring her approval before going ahead to do what their brother had offered. At that, Kendall frowned. Yet, he shrugged, settled down onto the mat that been laid out, extended his legs and his feet towards the grass, and brought his glass of wine to himself.

“Wine, Thea?”

There was something special about the relationship of a mother and her son and the strength of that was only increased when one considered that in Athena’s case, she had two, her twins. There was something particular about their relationship that saw her unable to truly settle without the knowledge they were safe and the little girls who were barely older than their nephews seemed to realise Athena’s habits. Aurelia didn’t linger to close for that reason or lean against Athena’s side, and Cecilia was quick to slip off onto the blanket beside her sister when she noticed the way Athena had tensed. The girls laughed quietly to themselves when Athena rose, as if they had known she would long before she herself did.

Athena padded over the grass to meet her husband to whom she gave a withering look as it was he who she blamed for their son’s tears. Athena reached the mouth of the pram and leaned over the handle. The boys continued to sniffle but their wails seemed to cease at the sight of her. She tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear and tickled Archie’s chin before reaching to cover up Gus a little bit more. The boy wriggled a little and pouted but continued to sniff. Athena pouted a little and dutifully, they mirrored as best they could the expression she held. Athena laughed a little and reached for their faces. She brushed her finger tip across the pursed lips of Augustus and his face slipped into one of dismay, knowing as well as his brother did that her fingers were no use to them.

“What, now?” She reproached them. Archibald’s face began to screw up again and Athena huffed. “I swear to Merlin...”

Athena reached for Gus first, just to spite his brother, and balanced the boy precariously against her shoulder. He squawked a little bit at that, hardly impressed but quietened, seemingly enjoying the view. Athena tickled his feet absent-mindedly, getting a kick to her chest for the trouble, and reached down to scoop up Archie who was less than impressed by being left last. Athena’s fingers danced one last time across the boy’s lips and he groped for them, only releasing them when he realised yet again that she was fooling him. Athena’s cheeks coloured red and was sure this was an elaborate scheme to embarrass her thoroughly. She returned, albeit slowly, never really very good at carrying both boys but managing despite the slightness of her frame, and sat down behind everyone else, nearer to the tree, glad that Kendall had the girls preoccupied.

She set Archie down in the crook of her crossed legs and the boy stretched happily. Athena cursed the audacity of the child before bringing his brother down from her shoulder. The logistics of feeding two impatient boys never went well and as Athena began to unbutton the top of her dress she wondered how on earth she’d manage it. She wrapped the cloak further around herself to at least protect some of her modesty, and lifted the pair as best she could against her chest. Archie, she noted, had no trouble finding his way and had clearly grown impatient. He nuzzled against her chest, glad both for the warmth there and the meal, but while he appeared the more resourceful of the two, Gus was having trouble negotiating the dress. Athena rolled her eyes, believing the boy to just be lazy, and blew at the dress. Her breath was mixed with a little bit of magic and it pulled the material back further so that Gus could get his fill.

Athena drew the cloak around herself fully, beginning to feel the chill herself, and watched Kendall idly as he indulged the interests of the girls. Athena stared back, not really on the same page, when the girls turned to look at her and it was only when Cecelia shuffled forward to show Athena her cup that the elder woman understood. Athena laughed and nodded; much to the delight of the pair and they set about negotiating the cups. Athena wondered whether they’d have a taste for wine yet, whether they’d want any of it at all. As it was, the elder one showed more hesitance and the younger more enthusiasm and Athena laughed when Cecelia shot her cup forward, looking at Kendall with the quiet demand for more.

“Wine? Yes!” Athena exclaimed with a grin before looking down to see her son lulled against her, mouth agog, dead to the world. Gus was still having his fill but Archie’s sudden slumber gave Athena a chance to gain a tiny bit more modesty so carefully she wrapped the boy back up and pulled her dress back round to cover that side of her chest. She then set him back against her torso and Athena leaned back a little, pleased to find the bark of the tree behind her. She crossed her legs at her ankles and smiled briefly at Kendall before beginning to feel herself the weariness that was inevitable in mid-morning after a night of bad dreams and two o’clock feedings.