what a good woman does

She could hear her father’s booming voice on the other side of the door, the smell of chalk and sweat in the air despite the charms that were meant to cover the scents. So many nights spent in anger; so many times she’d retreated to the room alone. 

But more often than that, the days spent sparring with her brother. They made each other stronger, never once fearing that they might injure on another. They never held back -- ferocious eyes and hungry minds, aching for a victory in some area of their life. 

He was stronger, but she was faster. She was brash and fearless, knowing his next move before he made it, and he was calculating, watching her patterns for a time before striking. Rarely did their spats end with an obvious champion. The oak floor held an even count of their blood; no victor could be decided. 

They were equals in this room.

She realized now that she ached for some semblance of normalcy, something that could remind her of the days when the worst pain she felt was physical. 

Eilwen pulled her hair back tight with an elastic, shedding her sweater leaving her only with the camisole. She slid on the gloves wordlessly, situating herself across from Evan. “Have you grown stiff in your old age?” she taunted, her bare feet cemented onto the old floor as the faintest ghost of a smile crept to the corner of her mouth. “Let’s see it, then.” 

She enjoyed gazing out into the garden on days like today. The spring blooms had long since faded, leaving longer, warmer days in their wake. The summer lilies were bright in their beds, tilting their faces toward the sun. 

The balcony of the drawing room had always held a charm for her, even in her haunted youth. The tall windows on the south wall opened out into the garden, long puddling curtains blowing in the breeze that filtered in. The heather scented air of the English countryside made her feel, for a moment, that she could even be happy here. 

“Blow to blow, they were identical. After thousands of hours in sparring, they knew each other better than siblings, more intimately than lovers; they were complementary halves of a single warrior. 

This was not Death Eater against Free Agent. This was not light against dark or good against evil; it had nothing to do with duty or philosophy, religion or morals.

It was Evan against Eilwen. 

Personally. 

Just the two of them, and the damage they had done to each other.”

The Rosier Manor rested on a large estate. Evan didn’t know the exact size off the top of his head, but he knew it was not an understatement to call it expansive. Evan suspected magic was involved; it certainly felt bigger than it looked.  

Evan guided Eilwen and Ernie through the small village. It was the nearest village to the Manor, but they didn’t technically border each other. At least, Evan didn’t think they bordered each other. He could have sworn there was a buffer zone of some sort between the two. There was a possibility that they owned the land in the buffer zone despite it being somewhat separated from the Manor’s grounds. On that note, Evan wasn’t exactly sure what the precise border of the grounds were, either. He really ought to have been sure on both accounts, but Eilwen had always been better than him at physical geography. The subject of Geography, however, was a toss up. They were fairly evenly skilled when it came to human geography. The social sciences had served both of them well in adulthood.

The village streets were relatively quiet. The quietness suited Evan just fine.  While the charms on the passage’s entrance rendered it impossible for muggle to see it, Evan wasn’t in the mood to carefully time their entrance into the entrance.

A leafy tree grew in small patch of manicured dirt in front of a stone church. The stone was warm in color, tan rather than cool khaki. Vines grew along the side of the church behind the tree. All one had to do to enter the passage was walk through the vines. As long as no one tripped on the small step up into the passage, there was really nothing to it.

The passage was dark and, like most old things in England, a bit damp. Evan warned Ernie as much before they entered. Luckily, light from inside the passage couldn’t travel outside the passage, which allowed for lumos to be cast without attracting unwanted attention.

“It might be easier to carry Ernie,” Evan said.

The passage took them below the village and into the anor grounds. Evan always knew when they were crossing over because the border was marked in the passage by a rather grotesque statue. Evan always flicked its nose as he passed. It was a habit he had picked up as a teenager. Back then, he had used this passage when sneaking friends into the manor. Evidence of his teenage adventures were hidden behind loose stones at the foot of the staircase in the passage. The stairs lead up to the manor. Wooden boxes hidden within hollowed out stones contained all sorts of paraphernalia from Evan’s youth.

While entering the passage was easy, getting out was hard. It required something just about as ‘Rosier’ as the very stones upon which they stood. Using his free hand to flip open his pocket knife, Evan pricked the index finger of his wand hand and pressed it up against the stone, wand still being held in that hand by his other four fingers. His free hand still held the knife. Wands were less dangerous to clutch haphazardly than knives, after all. He didn’t dare put the pocket knife away until his hand fell through the stones. The amount of blood needed to unlock the barrier varied.

Fortunately, the barrier decided to cooperate. Not wanting to push his luck, he told Eilwen and Ernie to go through first.

“You have to go one at a time, but send Ernie through first.”

Eilwen followed along the familiar trek, silent but for the occasional reassuring comment to the wide eyed boy clutching her hand. When they arrived at the end of the darkened passage,she waited patiently as her brother secured their entry. She nodded at his request, kneeling down beside her son to speak with him eye to eye. 

“Just step right through there, all right? And wait for me on the other side,” she said, brushing his hair back from his face. It had been a long day for him and he was tired from the walk. Ernie nodded, turning to look at the wall. He didn’t move, looking back to Eilwen. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Mumma will be right behind you, promise.” It was enough to convince him, blonde hair disappearing through the wall. She rose, glancing toward Evan before following suit.

On the other side of the wall, one of the dozens of unnecessary rooms of the manor opened before her. Ernie was glued to his place, but his eyes wandered quickly, taking it all in. “Do you remember it, love?” she asked, scooping him up into her arms as Evan crossed into the room behind her. She met his eyes before looking back to Ernie. “You stayed here with Grandmother when you were a baby.” 

Ernie was unusually quiet today, but she couldn’t bring herself to press further. She turned to Evan, running her hand down Ernie’s back as he nestled closer to her. He was getting so big, now; it was growing more difficult for her to carry him for very long. 

“I’m taking him to the blue room across the courtyard,” she said, surprising even herself that she could remember her brother’s wing of the estate well enough to recall such a thing. “I’ll meet you in the parlor.” 

Eilwen took Ernie straight to the bath, and then to bed. He hadn’t put up much of a fight, and fell asleep quickly. She watched him for a moment, running her fingers through the sandy blond hair he’d stolen from his father. 

Duke had always been a selfish man, and for that she could never fault him. She didn’t blame him, couldn’t bring herself to be angry. She’d asked for it, after all. She’d opened the door. She knew that she did not have the right to be surprised that he’d walked through it. 

She knew these things to be true, but it did little to fill the cavern his departure had created.  

By the time Eilwen returned, her armor was faltering. She knew she looked like hell, and now, standing before her brother, she couldn’t bring herself to care.