built your ceilings out of stained glass - Printable Version
+- Charming (https://charmingrp.com)
+-- Forum: OOC - The End (https://charmingrp.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=1)
+--- Forum: The Archives (https://charmingrp.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=52)
+---- Forum: 1891 (https://charmingrp.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=122)
+---- Thread: built your ceilings out of stained glass (/showthread.php?tid=8055)
+- Charming (https://charmingrp.com)
+-- Forum: OOC - The End (https://charmingrp.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=1)
+--- Forum: The Archives (https://charmingrp.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=52)
+---- Forum: 1891 (https://charmingrp.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=122)
+---- Thread: built your ceilings out of stained glass (/showthread.php?tid=8055)
Pages:
1
2
built your ceilings out of stained glass - Reuben Crouch - February 28, 2021
March 4th, 1891 — Fisk Home, Bartonburg
Ben was nervous, both about things that made sense to be nervous about and things that didn't. He was worried that something would happen at work and he'd have to stay late and he'd miss the meeting and Elliott's mother would think he didn't want to come at all (he had never, ever been asked to stay late at work, and the distillery wasn't the sort of work environment that was prone to emergencies of any sort, much less ones that Ben was qualified to handle). He was worried that Melody would ask him where he was going (she had not left her room, as far as he knew, for the past three days). He was worried that Elliott's mother would cancel at the last minute, or that she wouldn't cancel but something would happen on her end and he would end up flooing into her parlor and coming face to face with her husband and having to explain himself. He was worried that Elliott wouldn't like him. He was worried that Elliott's mother wouldn't like him. He was, generally, good with kids, but he had no experience with his kid and his chest felt tight at the prospect, so anything was possible. And as far as mothers, he had a decidedly mixed track record — what if he did the wrong thing or said the wrong thing and she decided this had all been a terrible idea, and he needed to leave?
Still, he climbed in to the floo at exactly the right time — he'd waited by the fireplace and watched the second hand on his pocket watch, not wanting to be even a minute early and accidentally surprise her before she was ready — and gave the Bartonburg address.
There he was, right there on the floor, ten feet away. Ben's breath caught in his chest for a minute. It took a beat for his field of vision to widen enough for him to notice her next to him.
"Hi," he said, suddenly unsure what to do with his hands or his feet or literally anything. Seeing her here she seemed like a perfect stranger, but he felt like he knew her at least a little, from their letters. It was a weird place to be — he didn't know how to interact with her.
"Thanks for setting this up," he said, shifting his weight. He should have gotten out of the way of the floo, but he didn't know where to go next. Sit, stand, kneel? Was it too much too fast if he sat down on the floor next to Elliott?
RE: built your ceilings out of stained glass - Dionisia Fisk - February 28, 2021
Despite being the one to arrange the meeting, Dionisia still had her reservations. For one, she didn't know much about Ben Crouch beyond his reputation, but his sincerity in their letters and his gentleness with Elliott during their meeting back in December had given a reason to suspect there was more to the man behind the accusations of rakish behavior. She was also worried about Ari. He would take no issue with her meeting in private with a gentleman—he'd practically encouraged her to—but she had a feeling that he'd be upset, or at least feel mildly threatened, if he learned the man was Elliott's biological father and that his purpose for meeting her was to get to know Elliott.
But Ari wasn't there right now, and no one was in the house besides her and the small handful of the people they employed in the household. It was just her and Elliott. Her son, now nearly twenty months old, was walking and talking, albeit in broken sentences. He was a smart baby, and although he was not biologically related to Ari she swore he'd taken to copying some of his mannerisms. In appearance, though, he looked like his mother, which was for the best. Ben Crouch and Ari did not look terribly different, but the Fisks tended to have a specific look and she'd always thought it would be obvious if Elliott neither looked like her nor fit the description.
His latest fascination was books, which Dionisia was eager to encourage. He'd settled on the carpet of the parlor surrounded by half a dozen children's books, and Dionisia sat next to him, point out the pictures and trying to teach him the words on the page. While Elliott still wore his sleep clothes (which she'd tried to change him out of, but was met with repeated No, Mama!s) Dionisia had tried to dress in a decent afternoon dress but left her hair down as she usually did when staying at home on her days off. Having her son at her side made it easier to avoid checking the clock every few minutes, and she was caught off guard by the sudden rising of green flames in the fireplace.
And there he was. Dionisia had never seen him in person dressed so casually—it was definitely a far cry from the Father Christmas costume he'd worn the last time she'd seen him. She flashed him a hesitant smile and rose from her spot on the ground, and for a moment Elliott did not even realize his arrival, his nose nearly touching the page of the book.
"Hello" she replied, her smile not breaking. She clasped her hands together in front of her and looked between Mr. Crouch and her son a few times. "I'm glad you could come. I've been..." worrying about this day for ages? No, that wasn't the right thing to say. "I've been eager for you to meet him—officially, this time." Elliott finally took notice and looked up from his book. Dionisia sunk back onto the ground and motioned for Ben to join them.
But Ari wasn't there right now, and no one was in the house besides her and the small handful of the people they employed in the household. It was just her and Elliott. Her son, now nearly twenty months old, was walking and talking, albeit in broken sentences. He was a smart baby, and although he was not biologically related to Ari she swore he'd taken to copying some of his mannerisms. In appearance, though, he looked like his mother, which was for the best. Ben Crouch and Ari did not look terribly different, but the Fisks tended to have a specific look and she'd always thought it would be obvious if Elliott neither looked like her nor fit the description.
His latest fascination was books, which Dionisia was eager to encourage. He'd settled on the carpet of the parlor surrounded by half a dozen children's books, and Dionisia sat next to him, point out the pictures and trying to teach him the words on the page. While Elliott still wore his sleep clothes (which she'd tried to change him out of, but was met with repeated No, Mama!s) Dionisia had tried to dress in a decent afternoon dress but left her hair down as she usually did when staying at home on her days off. Having her son at her side made it easier to avoid checking the clock every few minutes, and she was caught off guard by the sudden rising of green flames in the fireplace.
And there he was. Dionisia had never seen him in person dressed so casually—it was definitely a far cry from the Father Christmas costume he'd worn the last time she'd seen him. She flashed him a hesitant smile and rose from her spot on the ground, and for a moment Elliott did not even realize his arrival, his nose nearly touching the page of the book.
"Hello" she replied, her smile not breaking. She clasped her hands together in front of her and looked between Mr. Crouch and her son a few times. "I'm glad you could come. I've been..." worrying about this day for ages? No, that wasn't the right thing to say. "I've been eager for you to meet him—officially, this time." Elliott finally took notice and looked up from his book. Dionisia sunk back onto the ground and motioned for Ben to join them.
RE: built your ceilings out of stained glass - Reuben Crouch - February 28, 2021
When she motioned for him to join the pair of them on the floor, it was like a spell broke. The near paralyzing nervousness that he'd felt on arriving, which had prevented him from doing anything in response to her greeting except offering a mute nod, dissipated. He moved in and sat on the floor, Elliott stretched on in the space between him and the woman.
"Hi, buddy," he said, to Elliott. "I'm Ben." He glanced at Elliott's mother, briefly, for confirmation that this was alright. They hadn't talked about it explicitly, but obviously he wasn't going to introduce himself by using their relationship — Elliott already had a father. And it seemed strange to just not say anything at all, especially when she'd just said that she wanted them to meet each other. So: Ben seemed safest, and most natural. It was what he would have said if this were any other child; a child with no connection to him whatsoever.
"Whatcha reading?" he asked, turning his attention to Elliott's book with interest. Elliott answered, and the first four words or so were unintelligible to Ben, who didn't have any practice with his particular brand of toddler talk. At the end, though, he pointed at a picture of a cow, which he declared was 'the dog!' and Ben's heart melted.
"That's neat," he said, grinning so wide his face hurt. "Can I read it with you?"
RE: built your ceilings out of stained glass - Dionisia Fisk - March 1, 2021
Dionisia self-consciously arranged herself on the floor in a way that did not make her look explicitly unattractive, not because she wanted him to think she was attractive but because she'd invested too much emotional energy into dealing with him and she wanted to make a good impression. She was so afraid he would think of her as some fallen women who slept around with men on a whim (which she didn't think was a strange fear given that they'd slept together without her ever learning his name) but it seemed like such a silly fear now that he was here.
She watched him introduce himself to Elliott, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her palms as she pressed them against the carpet. He was a natural—smiley, soft-voiced, and friendly. He'd even introduced himself as Ben, which she'd hoped he would. It was also the name of one of their family friends, so if Elliott ever got around to blabbering about Ben Crouch it might be mistaken as blabbering about Benedict Sterling instead.
Elliott did not seem phased by the sudden introduction, and held up his book for Ben to examine without a peep. Dionisia stifled a chuckle. "Tell him what the snidget was doing," she said to her son, referring to the plot of the book. Elliott began to chatter about in broken sentences—"It's gone poof!" he said at first, then "Go through hoops and bye bye!" The blond tot held up the book for Ben to take it, and Dio could do nothing but stare with a smile on her face.
She watched him introduce himself to Elliott, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her palms as she pressed them against the carpet. He was a natural—smiley, soft-voiced, and friendly. He'd even introduced himself as Ben, which she'd hoped he would. It was also the name of one of their family friends, so if Elliott ever got around to blabbering about Ben Crouch it might be mistaken as blabbering about Benedict Sterling instead.
Elliott did not seem phased by the sudden introduction, and held up his book for Ben to examine without a peep. Dionisia stifled a chuckle. "Tell him what the snidget was doing," she said to her son, referring to the plot of the book. Elliott began to chatter about in broken sentences—"It's gone poof!" he said at first, then "Go through hoops and bye bye!" The blond tot held up the book for Ben to take it, and Dio could do nothing but stare with a smile on her face.
RE: built your ceilings out of stained glass - Reuben Crouch - March 1, 2021
Snidgets and hoops. Ben's son was reading a Quidditch book, and if he was not already smitten by now he would have fallen in love immediately. He took the book and turned the page, and Elliott leaned in to point at something else. He put his tiny hand against Ben's knee when he did, and he said something about what was on the page, but Ben was far too distracted by the tiny hand to take in what Elliott was saying.
He pulled his eyes away for a moment and looked at the woman with a wide grin, as if to say can you believe this? But she lived with this, so presumably she could. She got to see Elliott every day, and probably didn't think it was so unbelievably amazing that he could do things like tell stories and identify pictures in books and halfway climb onto stranger's laps.
Elliott was pointing at a broomstick, on the page. "Have you ever seen a broom in real life?" he asked the toddler eagerly. "Not in a book? I love brooms."
RE: built your ceilings out of stained glass - Dionisia Fisk - March 1, 2021
Of all the possible outcomes she'd imagined in the days leading up to the meeting, this had to be close to the best she could have envisioned. Ben Crouch was good with children, Elliott was not afraid of him, and they were - bonding? She mentally kicked herself for assuming the worst. Dionisia had never been a perfect mother, but she tried. She knew what kind of things Elliott liked, she kept tabs on his development, and she took him with her instead of leaving him at home with the nurse on her days off. She could be emotionally-detached sometimes, especially on days when her male colleagues made jokes about her leaving them again to expand her family; and sometimes she got in a mood where she blamed him for her problems, which made her feel guilty, but she never expressed it. If only bonding with child could be as effortless for her as it seemed to be for Ben Crouch, who had only met her son once before and yet had no difficulty just existing with him.
The smile Ben flashed her was so ecstatic, so genuine, that she shoved aside her insecurities and smiled back at him with a genuine sweetness. She glanced back down at her son, who was now fixated on the image of the broom. "A boom! Boom! Boom go whoooosh!" Elliott exclaimed, clearly repeating part of the story that had been read out loud to him on numerous occasions. He smiled up at Ben at an angle where Dio could see, and now it was more evident than ever: they shared a smile, and a strikingly similar side profile on top of that.
"He's not been to a quidditch match yet," she offered, feeling almost like she was invading the intimate moment between her son and his father. "But I was hoping to take him to see a Howler's game once the league's new safety measures were proven reliable. He likes to look at the brooms in the display window in Quality Quidditch Supplies." Elliott seemed to perk up at the mention of the familiar shop and moved to a standing position, looking back and forth between Dio and Ben expectantly.
The smile Ben flashed her was so ecstatic, so genuine, that she shoved aside her insecurities and smiled back at him with a genuine sweetness. She glanced back down at her son, who was now fixated on the image of the broom. "A boom! Boom! Boom go whoooosh!" Elliott exclaimed, clearly repeating part of the story that had been read out loud to him on numerous occasions. He smiled up at Ben at an angle where Dio could see, and now it was more evident than ever: they shared a smile, and a strikingly similar side profile on top of that.
"He's not been to a quidditch match yet," she offered, feeling almost like she was invading the intimate moment between her son and his father. "But I was hoping to take him to see a Howler's game once the league's new safety measures were proven reliable. He likes to look at the brooms in the display window in Quality Quidditch Supplies." Elliott seemed to perk up at the mention of the familiar shop and moved to a standing position, looking back and forth between Dio and Ben expectantly.
RE: built your ceilings out of stained glass - Reuben Crouch - March 1, 2021
No, of course he hadn't been to a Quidditch match yet. That made sense; he was too young to really understand what was going on, so there wasn't much of a point in bringing him before last summer. And, obviously, since the Quidditch World Cup there had only been one opportunity, and no one was going to be rushing to bring their toddlers to matches just yet.
She mentioned broomsticks at Quality Quidditch Supplies, and Ben sat up a little straighter almost at the same moment that Elliott reacted. He had a thought — less than an thought, really, because it wasn't as though he had to think of it at all, it just popped into his head as a fully formed little picture: teaching Elliott to fly. Going to Quality Quidditch Supplies, picking out a broom (they had little children's brooms, he'd seen them before, though maybe not quite that small), helping him climb on and keep his balance in a backyard, somewhere — or Hawthorne Hollow, it had more space — or hell, even the Howler's pitch, because he knew Art and knew when the practices were and he could swing it, he was sure...
... except, obviously, none of that was going to happen. It was one thing to floo in and have a chance to sit on the floor with Elliott and read picture books with him; it was something else to actually do things with him. Ben wasn't going to have a chance to do anything with Elliott, probably, that required leaving this room.
He bit the inside of his cheek, hard, and pulled himself back to the present moment. No use pining over things that wouldn't happen, when he was here and present and could have something in the meantime.
"You'll have your own broom someday, buddy, don't worry," he said, trying to let Elliott down easy from the suggestion that they might be headed to the Quidditch store. "When you're a little bigger, I'm sure. They go pretty fast, so you have to be really big," he said, with a grin. Then, to his mother, he asked a question even though he thought he probably didn't want to know the answer: "Does his dad fly?"
RE: built your ceilings out of stained glass - Dionisia Fisk - March 1, 2021
Dionisia smiled and smoothed Elliott's hair back over his head. It had been nearly white when he'd been born, just like Dio's had apparently been when she was a babe, but now it sandier and had little streaks of brown in it. She wondered whether it would darken as he got older, or if he would keep her coloring. With her other hand she picked up another book—All Aboard the Hogwarts Express, by some popular children's author—and gave it to Elliott, who immediately abandoned the thought of going shopping in favor of making train sounds.
"No, he doesn't," she said, shaking her head. Ari was he opposite of an athlete—not that he was out of shape, because he definitely was in shape, but he'd always been preferred the the excitement of a good book to the excitement of flying. "I think he's prone to broom-sickness, actually. I was never fond of brooms, either; I like to be able to feel my two feet on the ground," she said, an edge of teasing in her voice but she was too nervous to actually make a joke out of it.
She wondered if Ben liked to fly, but she couldn't decide whether that would come across as too... personal. She was not sure how invested he intended to be in Elliott's life, or how many meetings he'd like to have. If this was the only one, she didn't want to force him into a role he didn't want to have.
Elliott was still babbling away when she looked down on him, only now he'd opened the book was was pointing at the owl that was flying over the Hogwarts Express in one of the images. She rubbed his back and he smiled up at her before looking back at his book. "He's a sweet boy. Loves people, has lots of energy, always talking if he isn't sleeping. He's very perceptive, too—I didn't know toddlers could be like that," she admitted, turning her eyes back on Ben.
"No, he doesn't," she said, shaking her head. Ari was he opposite of an athlete—not that he was out of shape, because he definitely was in shape, but he'd always been preferred the the excitement of a good book to the excitement of flying. "I think he's prone to broom-sickness, actually. I was never fond of brooms, either; I like to be able to feel my two feet on the ground," she said, an edge of teasing in her voice but she was too nervous to actually make a joke out of it.
She wondered if Ben liked to fly, but she couldn't decide whether that would come across as too... personal. She was not sure how invested he intended to be in Elliott's life, or how many meetings he'd like to have. If this was the only one, she didn't want to force him into a role he didn't want to have.
Elliott was still babbling away when she looked down on him, only now he'd opened the book was was pointing at the owl that was flying over the Hogwarts Express in one of the images. She rubbed his back and he smiled up at her before looking back at his book. "He's a sweet boy. Loves people, has lots of energy, always talking if he isn't sleeping. He's very perceptive, too—I didn't know toddlers could be like that," she admitted, turning her eyes back on Ben.
RE: built your ceilings out of stained glass - Reuben Crouch - March 1, 2021
So he gets it from me, then, Ben thought but didn't say. It wasn't as though hobbies and interests were hereditary, so that was a stupid thought. Coordination and reflexes could have been, though, so if Elliott was good on a broom, he could have gotten that from Ben, right? Ben wasn't actually sure how that all worked. He thought about making a comment to Elliott's mother about flying and how he was sure Elliott would be a natural at it. He considered telling her that he loved to fly and that he'd briefly played professional Quidditch, but discounted the thought before the words left his mouth. Today wasn't really about him.
Or was it? Was that the sort of thing she'd been expecting to hear, or maybe even hoping to know, when she'd invited him over? They hadn't really gotten into the details of what they were both hoping for, from this meeting or from any future meetings. They hadn't really established if there would be future meetings, and it occurred to Ben now that it had been pretty stupid not to have hashed that all out, first. Was he supposed to be a sponge here, soaking up as much as he could about Elliott before returning home to only an occasional letter with some updates? Or was he supposed to be developing a relationship, either with his son or, it occurred to Ben, with his mother. Elliott didn't know who he was, after all, but she did — maybe she was curious to know him better, for her son's sake. They certainly hadn't gotten to know each other much, if at all, before sleeping together, but there were things she might want to know — things he would want to know, at any rate, if the situations were reversed and he was raising a baby without its mother in the picture.
He listened to her speak, and watched Elliott with his book. "He's a really neat kid," Ben said. He meant it; he was amazed by this tiny human and his stack of books and his excitement about brooms and the train noises he could make. The last thing she said, though, sort of caught in Ben's brain, because it pointed back to the conclusion he'd already made but hadn't really emotionally come around to, yet; they couldn't do this forever. If Elliott was as perceptive as she said, sooner or later he'd ask questions about who Ben was and why he came to hang out with him, sometimes, but never showed up to any family gatherings or met anyone other than Elliott's mother.
Of course, if this was going to be the only time, that was sort of a moot point.
"What's your, uh, endgame for this?" Ben asked her, gesturing vaguely between the both of them.
RE: built your ceilings out of stained glass - Dionisia Fisk - March 2, 2021
She smiled back at Ben, but there was an aching inside that she could not avoid acknowledging. The natural response to he's a neat kid, if she was just being conversational, might have been he was a blessing, but that felt odd to say to the man who'd had no say in fathering him. She was nearly certain that if given the chance to go back and avoid sleeping with her, he would have. He would not have wanted to be a father, not as a married man and with her now as a married woman. It was probably a complication—maybe even more so in his life, because presumably he and his wife had a far more loving relationship than she and Ari. Dio had been given no choice on whether to be a parent, either, and although she loved her son and would strive to protect him from the harsh world, she could not bring herself to call him a blessing. He simply was.
The aching in her chest only grew when he asked her about her plans. She had none; she'd expected him to set the boundaries, given that she'd been the one to thrust the knowledge of paternity on him without notice, but he was asking her and she could not find a lie. She picked Elliott off the floor, causing him to drop his book, but he didn't seem to care very much as he settled into his mother's lap, warm brown eyes watching Ben with curiosity. Dio held him like a comfort blanket, her arms wrapped around his tiny abdomen and his little socks poking up in the air.
"It may seem strange to hear, but I don't feel as though I have any right to keep him from you—and I don't want to." She smiled reassuringly, and even reached out to place her hand on his arm in the way she would a patient at the hospital. She realized how intimate a touch was and froze, but also knew pulling away suddenly might send the message that she was uncertain. But she wasn't. She knew her intentions, even if she did not know the best way to go about them. "He may have the Fisk name, but he is just as much yours as mine,," she explained, finally pulling her hand back in a way she thought felt natural. "But I also know you have a family of your own. I don't want to pressure you into a relationship you don't want. I don't want to hurt your marriage." He'd mentioned in his letters that he didn't want to hurt his wife with any of this, and she understood.
Her gaze dropped down to Elliott, who had taken to tugging on the toes of his socks in hopes of getting them off. She smoothed his hair back over his head. She knew in a few years he would be talking, shouting, saying things he ought not to. She didn't know how far this could go; of course, Ari had no issue with her seeing men, but she wondered if that would change if Elliott suddenly began to speak their name, even if Ari didn't know who they were to him.
"And if you don't... want him—" Her bottom lip trembled as she spoke the words, not because she was hurt by the idea that he wouldn't, but because there was a time in her life when she had not wanted Elliott at all and the guilt still haunted her. "—I would not be angry with you one bit."
The aching in her chest only grew when he asked her about her plans. She had none; she'd expected him to set the boundaries, given that she'd been the one to thrust the knowledge of paternity on him without notice, but he was asking her and she could not find a lie. She picked Elliott off the floor, causing him to drop his book, but he didn't seem to care very much as he settled into his mother's lap, warm brown eyes watching Ben with curiosity. Dio held him like a comfort blanket, her arms wrapped around his tiny abdomen and his little socks poking up in the air.
"It may seem strange to hear, but I don't feel as though I have any right to keep him from you—and I don't want to." She smiled reassuringly, and even reached out to place her hand on his arm in the way she would a patient at the hospital. She realized how intimate a touch was and froze, but also knew pulling away suddenly might send the message that she was uncertain. But she wasn't. She knew her intentions, even if she did not know the best way to go about them. "He may have the Fisk name, but he is just as much yours as mine,," she explained, finally pulling her hand back in a way she thought felt natural. "But I also know you have a family of your own. I don't want to pressure you into a relationship you don't want. I don't want to hurt your marriage." He'd mentioned in his letters that he didn't want to hurt his wife with any of this, and she understood.
Her gaze dropped down to Elliott, who had taken to tugging on the toes of his socks in hopes of getting them off. She smoothed his hair back over his head. She knew in a few years he would be talking, shouting, saying things he ought not to. She didn't know how far this could go; of course, Ari had no issue with her seeing men, but she wondered if that would change if Elliott suddenly began to speak their name, even if Ari didn't know who they were to him.
"And if you don't... want him—" Her bottom lip trembled as she spoke the words, not because she was hurt by the idea that he wouldn't, but because there was a time in her life when she had not wanted Elliott at all and the guilt still haunted her. "—I would not be angry with you one bit."
RE: built your ceilings out of stained glass - Reuben Crouch - March 2, 2021
Ben regretted asking for a minute, when she reached out and picked Elliott up off the floor. The gesture seemed protective to him, as though she had just been reminded that this was more complicated and felt she needed to physically reinforce some boundaries rather than just answering his question verbally. Maybe it was stupid of him to have expected even this much. Obviously he couldn't teach his son to ride a broomstick, or do anything with him that would increase the risk of being seen together, but maybe even this was too much. Maybe when Elliott had touched his knee just then, it had been the only time his son would ever touch him (aside from when he'd hugged him at the Christmas festival, but that had been different — he hadn't known then).
Only when she spoke, that wasn't what she was saying at all. Then she smiled, and then she touched his arm, which really drove home that she wasn't just saying that; she actually meant it. It took him a moment to process that, to let it sink in, because of the two of them, he thought that she had so much more to lose than he did. Maybe not from her perspective, he supposed, because she didn't know anything about him and Melody. He'd agonized over whether or not to tell her about this, true, but only because he was trying to be better, moving forward. If this had happened a month ago, he might not have fretted over it at all, and if something had happened that brought the matter to her attention — or to the attention of the general public, really — the worst that could happen was just another fight. They fought all the time, and seeing Elliott was well worth the risk. Ben had known that even before he'd met him, but having interacted with him for a few minutes now confirmed it in his mind. She, on the other hand, had a marriage that, if perhaps not entirely conventional, at least was built upon mutual trust. She was running a bigger risk than he was, inviting him here — so it was unexpected, to say the least, to hear that she wanted to put the ball back in his court.
"Of course I — of course I want that. Want him," Ben answered immediately. There was no scenario he could currently imagine where he could have a child out in the world and not be interested in knowing them, if he had the option. This was a change in him, certainly, because he had never expected he might want children, before. He hadn't even been sure whether or not he wanted them after his marriage, when Melody had taken the potion. It was seeing Art and Desdemona struggle through the aftermath of their miscarriage that had given him the first inkling that his feelings had changed, though he still hadn't been sure that he and Melody were capable of raising children together. The desire had been planted, though, and quietly growing. Hearing about Elliott's existence in January had woken it up, brought it to light, and now it was ferocious; he would have moved mountains for this kid.
She had taken her hand off of his arm, and he scooted a little nearer to her on the floor, trying to reestablish that sense of closeness without necessarily replicating the contact. "I only ask because — because I want what's best for him," he said, struggling slightly to find the words to phrase what was on his mind. "And I know that might not... That maybe it's not... well, eventually, this would have to stop," he said, looking not at her or at Elliott but at the blank space on the floor between them where the picture books were spread out. "It's — I want whatever you think you can give me. I do," he looked up at her just long enough to flash half a smile, to reassure her that he meant it. "But I don't want to confuse him, or anything. And you said he's perceptive, and — well — does your — does your husband know about this?"
He hadn't really wanted to ask — he was hardly one to throw stones regarding other peoples' marriages, and he already knew the answer since she'd picked the date and time around her husband's work schedule, so that she would be home and her husband would be out. He didn't want to sound like he was judging her for that, but — well, it was something they were going to have to talk about, if she was actually serious about giving him any sort of regular access to Elliott. They'd both be playing with fire, if neither of their spouses knew about this.
RE: built your ceilings out of stained glass - Dionisia Fisk - March 2, 2021
To say that she was pleased to hear that he wanted their son would have been an understatement. She had agonized over whether or not to contact him, what to say, and how much to say; it was common knowledge that many men wanted nothing to do with their bastards and much less the women who birthed them, so to hear that he wanted to be a part of Elliott's life was affirmation that she'd made the right choice.
But life was more complicated than simply wanting something, and Ben had a point. There was a finite time he could spend with Elliott, and as much as it pained her, Elliott would grow to a point where he suddenly noticed the absence of a familiar face—and if they bonded as Dio hoped, he would miss him. How would she be able explain the sudden disappearance of Ben in his life, knowing fully well that Ben was not just a family friend but his father? Elliott was barely able to form coherent sentences but she was already dreading the hypothetical conversation. And then there was Ben, who she didn't know much about at all, but watching his interaction with Elliott did not make it difficult to imagine the pain he'd go through.
Dionisia smiled back at him, but it did not meet her eyes. Ari. Ari might not have been the husband she imagined for herself, but he was the one she'd needed. He treated her well, loved Elliott despite their lack of biological relation, and he supported them in a way that she could never could have as an unwed mother. She did not want to hurt him, and she imagined if anything could hurt their marriage now it would involve Elliott. But at the same time... he'd hurt her, and she didn't want to be vengeful, and that wasn't her intention, but damn him if he vilified her for having her own secrets!
"This is none of his concern," she said sharply, but it was not directed at him. She wasn't even looking at him, nor Elliott; she was staring into blank space, images of an angry Ari filling her mind. And she was quick to push them away. Her gaze snapped up to him and her expression immediately softened. "I mean - my husband and aren't - we're not - I... don't think it's his place." But it was his place, and she knew that; Elliott were the one topic they always shared in the decision-making power. But this was different. This was not only about Elliott knowing Ben and Ben knowing Elliott—it was about her, too, and she knew that deep in her heart. She needed the closure that Ben Crouch was not a terrible person, that Ben Crouch would have wanted Elliott, that Ben Crouch did not think her a whore. She needed closure that none of the things she'd thought during her pregnancy were true, even if she didn't know Ben's name then, because they'd stopped her from accepting the role of mother. She'd felt like a fraud, even if she couldn't explain exactly why.
She reached out and touched his arm again, because he was closer and it did not feel as odd, but also because he had not looked shaken the first time she did it. "Ari is a good man, and a good father, but we have always been very - separate. He doesn't keep track of my doings. You don't need to worry about him." As where Elliott was concerned, she didn't think having another man in his life would be any more confusing considering he already had Julin, Konstantin, Dorian, Leonid, and Nemo. As long as they did not talk about the reality of Ben's role in his life, there shouldn't be any reason he wouldn't accept it... right?
Elliott began squirming in Dionisia's lap, and she released him. As if to prove her point, he walked over to Ben, grabbed another book, and plopped down in his lap.
But life was more complicated than simply wanting something, and Ben had a point. There was a finite time he could spend with Elliott, and as much as it pained her, Elliott would grow to a point where he suddenly noticed the absence of a familiar face—and if they bonded as Dio hoped, he would miss him. How would she be able explain the sudden disappearance of Ben in his life, knowing fully well that Ben was not just a family friend but his father? Elliott was barely able to form coherent sentences but she was already dreading the hypothetical conversation. And then there was Ben, who she didn't know much about at all, but watching his interaction with Elliott did not make it difficult to imagine the pain he'd go through.
Dionisia smiled back at him, but it did not meet her eyes. Ari. Ari might not have been the husband she imagined for herself, but he was the one she'd needed. He treated her well, loved Elliott despite their lack of biological relation, and he supported them in a way that she could never could have as an unwed mother. She did not want to hurt him, and she imagined if anything could hurt their marriage now it would involve Elliott. But at the same time... he'd hurt her, and she didn't want to be vengeful, and that wasn't her intention, but damn him if he vilified her for having her own secrets!
"This is none of his concern," she said sharply, but it was not directed at him. She wasn't even looking at him, nor Elliott; she was staring into blank space, images of an angry Ari filling her mind. And she was quick to push them away. Her gaze snapped up to him and her expression immediately softened. "I mean - my husband and aren't - we're not - I... don't think it's his place." But it was his place, and she knew that; Elliott were the one topic they always shared in the decision-making power. But this was different. This was not only about Elliott knowing Ben and Ben knowing Elliott—it was about her, too, and she knew that deep in her heart. She needed the closure that Ben Crouch was not a terrible person, that Ben Crouch would have wanted Elliott, that Ben Crouch did not think her a whore. She needed closure that none of the things she'd thought during her pregnancy were true, even if she didn't know Ben's name then, because they'd stopped her from accepting the role of mother. She'd felt like a fraud, even if she couldn't explain exactly why.
She reached out and touched his arm again, because he was closer and it did not feel as odd, but also because he had not looked shaken the first time she did it. "Ari is a good man, and a good father, but we have always been very - separate. He doesn't keep track of my doings. You don't need to worry about him." As where Elliott was concerned, she didn't think having another man in his life would be any more confusing considering he already had Julin, Konstantin, Dorian, Leonid, and Nemo. As long as they did not talk about the reality of Ben's role in his life, there shouldn't be any reason he wouldn't accept it... right?
Elliott began squirming in Dionisia's lap, and she released him. As if to prove her point, he walked over to Ben, grabbed another book, and plopped down in his lap.
RE: built your ceilings out of stained glass - Reuben Crouch - March 2, 2021
There was a dissonance between what she was saying and what she was doing — or at least in Ben's perception of what she was saying and doing. She had put her hand on his arm again, which was a comforting gesture, and then Elliott had crawled in to his lap, which made his chest tighten and his mind go fuzzy in a way that made it hard to hold on to anything else. But before Elliott had sat in his lap, he'd had plenty of reservations about what she was saying. This seemed wrong, and it didn't fit the picture he'd painted in his head of what their marriage was like. Granted, he didn't know much about it — he had never, to the best of his knowledge, met the man (Aaron? was that what she'd said his name was?) and he didn't really know her, either, aside from her letters. What he knew, though, was that she had told him the truth about her pregnancy before they married, and he had married her anyway. That was about as far removed from the circumstances under which Ben's marriage had started that he couldn't help but be stricken by it.
Sometimes he wondered what he would have done, if Melody had tried to get him to elope with her without having used the potion on him first. He had never thought marriage was a good idea, for him but especially for them, but if the circumstances had been such that it really was the only good option left available to them — if he had been as convinced of its necessity as she had been that night — would he have walked into it, with eyes wide open? He didn't know — and would never know, because he'd never gotten the chance to make that decision and it wasn't something she could give back to him. But a part of him thought maybe he would have, if he'd really thought it was the best way to make her happy (he still did not think being married to him was the best way to make her happy, but that was besides the point), and maybe if he had been forced to make that choice and reckon with himself on day one, instead of only after a year of dragging his feet, maybe they'd be okay by now. Having all the information laid out in front of you and still making the tough decision counted for a lot, in his book. The Fisks may not have been desperately in love — her answer said that much clearly, even if she had not said it explicitly — but at least they had that foundation.
Ben wasn't worth jeopardizing that foundation for. She didn't know that, maybe, which was why she was saying she wanted him involved and putting her hand on his arm like that, but he just wasn't. He might have charmed her by coming in and reading picture books with Elliott and talking about brooms with him, but Elliott already had a father, and just by being here without him knowing about it, Ben was putting Elliott's relationship with his father at risk. That was unacceptable, and he thought she must have seen that. If she was upset with her husband for whatever reason, though, maybe she was purposefully not seeing it. He'd done that more than his fair share, with Melody, so he knew what that could look like, and what it could do to a person.
He glanced at her for a moment, wanting to speak but unsure what to say. He wasn't worried about her husband, not directly. He didn't even know the man, so it wasn't a concern for his feelings that was keeping Ben from embracing this plan quite so enthusiastically as she might have hoped. He was concerned about Elliott, ultimately, and a little about her, too. Concerned that a secret like this could change the foundation they were built on, give a different atmosphere to the household, or maybe even change the relationship between either of them and Elliott. But he didn't know how to say any of that, so instead he flashed her a quick smile — a little superficial, though maybe she wouldn't notice — and reached across Elliott to gently squeeze her hand. The message: okay, it's alright, we don't have to get in to those things right now.
"Want to read this one?" he asked Elliott, turning his attention back to his son. "Let's go back and start at the beginning, hm? Can you turn this page over?"
RE: built your ceilings out of stained glass - Dionisia Fisk - March 3, 2021
He did not reply, at least with words; he'd communicated his meaning well enough with his gentle squeeze of her hand, and Dionisia was content to let the subject go—for now. She had gone too far, lied too much, in order to arrange this meeting. She had contact Ben without Ari's knowledge, told Zelda she'd wronged Ari and promised to tell him the truth, and then in a panic had created another lie. No, she could not walk backwards now; whether Ben chose to stay in Elliott's life for the long run or not, Dionisia had gone too far to change her own mind.
She smiled back at him and scooted over so she was sitting right next to Ben, her legs folded to the side. She leaned over so she could watch Elliott poke the book and babble incoherently. He flipped the pages at Ben's request, but the book slid right out of his hand and onto the floor as he did so. Dio reached out to steady it, passing a smile to Ben as Elliott adjusted his grip on the book.
"Did you grow up with a lot of babies in your home? It seems like it," she said. He was good with children—better than her, definitely. She'd learned how to handle Elliott, but holidays with all her Fisk nieces and nephews exposed her the least motherly figure of perhaps all the Fisk women and wives. She did not know how to deal with children who were not her own unless they were her patients.
She smiled back at him and scooted over so she was sitting right next to Ben, her legs folded to the side. She leaned over so she could watch Elliott poke the book and babble incoherently. He flipped the pages at Ben's request, but the book slid right out of his hand and onto the floor as he did so. Dio reached out to steady it, passing a smile to Ben as Elliott adjusted his grip on the book.
"Did you grow up with a lot of babies in your home? It seems like it," she said. He was good with children—better than her, definitely. She'd learned how to handle Elliott, but holidays with all her Fisk nieces and nephews exposed her the least motherly figure of perhaps all the Fisk women and wives. She did not know how to deal with children who were not her own unless they were her patients.
RE: built your ceilings out of stained glass - Reuben Crouch - March 3, 2021
This was nice, Ben thought, if he pushed all of the thoughts about everything else away for a minute. If he didn't think about the future of it, or the fact that he hadn't told Melody, or the vague idea that just by being here he might be damaging the relationship between Elliott's parents. If the only thing he thought about was sitting here on the floor, with Elliott in his lap and Elliott's mother sitting next to him, reading picture books... it was really nice.
He looked over at her when she spoke, and flashed a quick smile. "Just my little sister. And she's only four years younger, so not much of a baby," he admitted. The Crouches had extended family, but none they had been particularly close to — none that he would look back on and say ah yes, that's where I learned how to be around kids. He didn't really know where he'd picked it up, actually, because it wasn't as though anyone in his life had ever trusted him with a child — he didn't even see his nephews that often, just the bare minimum that was required of an uncle.
"I don't know," he said, with a shrug. "I feel like kids are just easy to talk to."
RE: built your ceilings out of stained glass - Dionisia Fisk - March 3, 2021
A sister four years his junior did not seem like much, but it was more experience than Dionisia had ever had. Her sister was two years her senior, and she had not seen her since... well, now that she considered it she hadn't seen her sister since the summer before she began Hogwarts. She would be twenty-four now, and was probably married to some muggle man with small children of her own. It was one of the reasons having a child had been so hard on her: she'd never had anyone until she married Ari. The Fisks had watched her during some summers, and the Beauregards other summers, but she had always been an individual. Now Elliott was hers—an extension of her, even—and it had not been easy to adapt to that reality.
"I wish it came as easy to me," she admitted, reaching out to run a stray finger down her son's arm. He was so engrossed in his book that he startled a little at the touch, but settled back against Ben's chest without so much as a word. "But I didn't have little siblings or siblings with children. I don't think I really had a conversation with a child until I became a mediwitch—and even then it's different than parenting." She could pass as a good mother now; her son was not old enough to want to have full-fledged conversations with his mother, and she was not yet required to give motherly advice. She would have to learn how to help him cope with mean children, how to treat others with respect, how to process his own emotions, all in just a few years' time. She wasn't ready.
She did not know why she asked the next question, nor did she know why it felt so weird. It was a generic one, one that did not necessarily relate to her or Elliott, but felt awkward nonetheless. "Did you always want to be a father?" Perhaps it would have been better phrased as do you want to be a father now?, because he was married and he hadn't said anything about having children, so there was nothing other than this brief interaction to suggest he'd actively wished for children at all. It was more than likely that he'd just accepted the circumstance and warmed up to the idea of having a bastard out in the world.
"I wish it came as easy to me," she admitted, reaching out to run a stray finger down her son's arm. He was so engrossed in his book that he startled a little at the touch, but settled back against Ben's chest without so much as a word. "But I didn't have little siblings or siblings with children. I don't think I really had a conversation with a child until I became a mediwitch—and even then it's different than parenting." She could pass as a good mother now; her son was not old enough to want to have full-fledged conversations with his mother, and she was not yet required to give motherly advice. She would have to learn how to help him cope with mean children, how to treat others with respect, how to process his own emotions, all in just a few years' time. She wasn't ready.
She did not know why she asked the next question, nor did she know why it felt so weird. It was a generic one, one that did not necessarily relate to her or Elliott, but felt awkward nonetheless. "Did you always want to be a father?" Perhaps it would have been better phrased as do you want to be a father now?, because he was married and he hadn't said anything about having children, so there was nothing other than this brief interaction to suggest he'd actively wished for children at all. It was more than likely that he'd just accepted the circumstance and warmed up to the idea of having a bastard out in the world.