December 24th, 1885; the wee hours — The Carmichael Home

The dog—no, it was a wolf, she realized—snarled at Virginia before lunging for her. Instead of its teeth sinking into the soft, white flesh of her neck, however, the overlarge beast soared right over her as she ducked. Shaking, Ginny straightened and turned round to see where it had gone, inexplicably able to flee. Lowered on its haunches, the canine turned now to face an entirely unaware George. Though she opened her mouth to call out to him, no sound would leave her desperate tongue. On the ground between woman and wolf lay the mangled body of the family's former maid.

Suddenly, the maid opened her eyes.

"You did this," she said dispassionately as the wolf launched itself at George.

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Virginia Carmichael sat up in bed with a start, chest heaving with the effort of her heavy panting. The hair around her face and the sheets beneath her back, on her pillow, were damp with the sweat that glistened in the light of the moon outside her unshuttered window. A night before, that same light had forced Ginny into the same skin as the beast from her dreams. Now, though, the waning orb was merely a ticking clock, one whose hands she knew would once again strike midnight in a month's time.

It had been some time since the witch had taken Divination, but even so, she knew dreams that vivid—dreams from which the reek of stale blood still clung in her nostrils, making her want to retch—meant something. Could mean something. Something dire.

Once her breath settled, she peeled back her sheets and swung her legs to the floor, padding softly to her clothes stand to retrieve the thin, silk robe she had received as an early holiday gift from Gwenda. Though the limited light present could not reveal them, sprigs of lavender were embroidered along the cuffs and hem, and the faint smell of the flower drifted into her nose as she put it on over her nightclothes, replacing the stench of her dream. Another deep breath to calm herself, and Virginia was in the hallway, closing her bedroom door softly behind her.

It was a journey she had made before, the forty-three steps of her childhood decreasing to a mere twenty-one as her legs lengthened with time. She past the familiar portrait of a great-great-grandfather—non-moving, for he had found magical portraits unsettling—and an antique Greek vase before arriving at her destination.

Gingerly, Ginny rapped at the door before opening it a crack, eyes closed for the sake of propriety, as she poked her head in.

"Elliot?"

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— bee is a goddamn wizard ❤ —

Sleep wasn't safe.

It hadn't been safe, since the incident with the maid, although Elliot's dreams had always been fitful and ominous.
He had woken up a few hours before with no distinct memories but no desire to go back to sleep, so instead he sat clad in a robe at the desk in his bedroom, tarot cards spread in front of them. He had cycled through a multitude of spreads, but it was always the same question:

will we get caught?

will we get caught?

will we get caught?

The answer eluded him as the cards turned up only incoherent responses. He had never been able to find answers when he asked about his family; a giant, glaring blind spot in his Sight. But he was about to do another spread, try for a fourth time, when the knock came at his door.

"Ginny? You can come in, I'm decent," he said, instead straightening the deck and returning it to the well-worn box.

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avs by Bee!

Not only was he decent, she saw when she came in but he was up. Ginny had been concerned about waking Elliot, but plainly those worries were unnecessary.

“You’re up,” she said, closing the door behind her as she stated the obvious. She did not move to sit down nor race to her elder brother as she wished to do, but instead lurked by the door, unable to fully commit and still very much on edge.

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— bee is a goddamn wizard ❤ —

"So are you," Elliot said. He closed the tarot box and swiveled in his desk chair to look at her. "Are you going to come in?" She seemed on edge, and unsure, and so he smiled his patented big-brother smile at her and hoped for the best.

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avs by Bee!

Another moment’s hesitation, and then the girl—for she felt, in this moment, very much like a little girl—moved to sit upon the vacant bed, her top teeth worrying her lower lip.

She was quiet for several minutes, and, fortunately, Elliot was the sort to allow her to simply be. At last, though Ginny confessed the reason for her visit.

“I don’t dare close my eyes anymore.”

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— bee is a goddamn wizard ❤ —

Elliot almost considered starting his spread again - if Ginny wanted to be left in silence, then he'd do that - when his sister spoke. He turned back to her and frowned softly.

"Are you having dreams?" Elliot asked. They both knew what she would dream about -- it was what he was afraid of, to.

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avs by Bee!

She nodded mutely, tears welling in her eyes but not spilling over, not yet.

"Even when I wake, they're there—in the back of my mind, in the shadows of my room, in my reflection in the mirror. Inescapable."

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— bee is a goddamn wizard ❤ —

Elliot knew what she meant. The difference was that many of Elliot's worst dreams and visions came true later - but that didn't make them feel any different. This time they were both haunted by the same act.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," Elliot said softly, "Do you want to talk about it - or?"

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avs by Bee!

She both did and did not. She wanted to discuss it with Elliot her brother, but Ginny worried she would not like what Elliot the Seer had to say on the matter—and the two were often difficult to distinguish from one another. It was no more his fault than her condition was her own, but like lycanthropy, it was still something of a curse (albeit to less of an extent).

"I just want to sleep," she said after a long moment, tears beginning to trail quietly down her cheeks like comets on a dark sky, except less glow-y. "Properly."

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— bee is a goddamn wizard ❤ —

Elliot left his box of tarot cards on the desk and went to sit next to his sister on the end of the bed. He draped one arm across her shoulders, hoping that physical proximity would offer that certain gravitas of consolation that he did not think he could manage with words.

"We'll go purchase a sleeping draught the day after Boxing Day," Elliot said, "And until then, well - you can always come here."

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avs by Bee!

Utterly exhausted, both physically and emotionally, Ginny allowed herself to slump against her brother. Though normally a comforting presence in his life, Elliot's best efforts were no longer getting the job done—leading the witch to wonder if she was, at last, truly beyond comfort. She had survived a great deal in her near quarter-century of life, but perhaps this sin would be the event that finally did her in.

"It's better than nothing, I suppose," she allowed reluctantly, voice soft and pensive. "Is this—is this to be my life from now on? I had thought, had prayed, I was already enduring the worst of it."

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— bee is a goddamn wizard ❤ —

Elliot tilted his head sideways towards hers, so that his temple gently bumped up against her hair. "Here's what I think," he said, mind turning over the options, "I think that it will ebb, as time goes forward. I think that it will get easier. But right now it's just too much, too soon."

He hoped he was right. He had to be right, because they could not abide this forever.

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avs by Bee!

Of course, Elliot must know how she was feeling—or if not precisely, close enough to the mark. He had not killed the maid, but had aided with the aftermath. Another secret of hers that she had to keep. Virginia sighed, knowing she had to at least try to believe him. The alternative was pain, and not the fleeting sort at all.

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— bee is a goddamn wizard ❤ —