Arthur sighed. He didn't think he'd been stupid about it, but he also hadn't been adhering to the usual cautions he did to try to avoid the twinges in his knee — which meant there could, he knew, be injuries to the fragile joint. He didn't think Emrys would like hearing that thought, so he swallowed it down.

"Mm — not long," Art said, "Yesterday morning."

  

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Not long at all. That was a stroke of luck. If it had been a gradual buildup over days or weeks or months then it would have been possible that whatever had happened to cause it had gone unnoticed enough that Art had since forgotten about it. If it had happened suddenly two days ago, he almost certainly remembered it. He just hadn't recognized it yet for what it was.

"Alright. Then two days ago, before this happened. Walk me through everything." Two days ago had been New Year's Eve, hadn't it? The timing was a little suspect, but it was possible it was just a coincidence. At any rate nothing had happened to Emrys, or his staff, or anyone else in wizarding Britain that he knew of yet, so it couldn't have just been the date. There had to be some other catalyst.

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Lou made this! <3

Art tilted his head back, exposing his throat to the ceiling, and considered the question. "Breakfast at home," he said, "No work, either — I took my daughter to Diagon Alley because she needed new measurements." Measurements for a child were a funny thing, but Gwen was growing fast, and her grandmother wanted to take the older clothes she had made her back for mending and adjustments. Talking about Gwenog with Emrys was strange; looking at the ceiling made it easier. "We went to Fortescue's, and — a new booth. Changes."

He looked back at Emrys, awareness on his face. Changes implied something.

  

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set by MJ <3

The look on Arthur's face indicated he'd had the same thought Emrys had. Anything new was suspect, and a name like changes was doubly ominous. "Well, don't stop there," Emrys said. He wouldn't be surprised if Arthur's mind was racing ahead without him, but that wasn't especially helpful if Art still wanted his insight on trying to solve this.

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Lou made this! <3

"Gwen wanted to check it out, because it was new," Art explained, thinking it important to demonstrate that the booth was not his idea. Gwenog could be like her father, in ways that likely would not be good for her as she got older — they were lucky that she had her mother's diligence, and so far seemed less impulsive than her father. "And the witch inside — she asked what I would change about myself. Obviously I couldn't say anything real," Art said. Fuck, imagine if he'd asked to change something fundamental, something in his personality?

"So I said something flippant, about my knee. And handed her a few knuts." Gwenog had thought it was fun. But he couldn't blame her for it — she was a child. Eating the bonbon had been entirely Art's choice.

  

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set by MJ <3

The story was starting to come together. Whether the woman at the booth had intended to cause chaos or had thought she was doing real good, it seemed clear that magic had been involved there. Arthur had professed to want his knee better, or something like it; in a twisted way this seemed to accomplish that. The next steps were probably obvious, then. Find the woman and see what she'd done, and either get her to reverse it or get a healer to reverse it.

But something had snagged him in Arthur's retelling, and although he knew it wasn't the point Emrys didn't seem capable of just letting the remark go. He hesitated, then asked gently, "What would you have said if... it had been something real?"

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Lou made this! <3

The words not you got stuck in Arthur's mouth, even though they were true. He looked at Emrys' hands. "I'm going to gamble again, someday," he said, because Art knew that like he knew the shape of Emrys' mouth. "And I don't want that to be true."

  

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set by MJ <3

Emrys didn't respond right away. He held Arthur's answer on his tongue for a moment the way one did with tasting wine, dissecting the flavor. Arthur liked the act of gambling, Emrys was certain. He had said as much once, and even if he'd been lying then it didn't make sense for him to have the very-public history he did with it if he didn't find the activity enjoyable. It wasn't as though he'd needed to gamble in order to try and make his fortune, back when he'd first started; he'd inherited a healthy sum from his family, as Emrys understood it. So he wasn't running from the thing itself, but the consequences that followed it. Emrys had seen him in the fallout of a gambling spree before, when they'd first met. Ironically, if Art hadn't fallen back into his gambling habit it was unlikely they would have ended up together like this at all; Emrys wouldn't have thought to invite him to the party where they'd slept together if he hadn't first seen him spiraled-out at Ester's.

At the time there had been an article alleging that Pettigrew was purposefully running up debts to get his wife to leave him. Given that Emrys had found him at Ester's and seduced him a few weeks later, he had to assume that the Pettigrews had not been on excellent terms. So that was what he was really saying, Emrys thought, beneath the words: someday he was going to blow up his life, ruin all his relationships, and he felt that this outcome was inevitable. Only a matter of time. Emrys couldn't relate, not really. He had always been cautious, planning his moves meticulously. He had ruined things, certainly — most recently his relationship with Angelica — but he didn't do it impulsively. He thought he understood the itch that drove Arthur to gamble, but when he felt that itch in himself it usually drove him into hiding, not into action.

It would have been simpler if it was just about money. Emrys had money; he could give Art money. He could make gambling debts disappear. He could pay for a solicitor. He could make up the difference in a family's budget for several months while Art got back on his feet. But he suspected it wasn't about money.

"If that happens," he said delicately, "you're still welcome here."

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   Arthur Pettigrew

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Lou made this! <3

Oh, Art would be welcome at Emrys'. He knew that, even though it was nice to hear it be said — he had always been good at finding places to crash at, and this would be much softer than some of the other places he'd landed. He would be welcome at Emrys', and Emrys would love him, and Arthur's shame about gambling and his compulsions around it would rule him until he was no longer welcome at Emrys' and until Emrys loved him a little less. He knew this, although he was not sure that Emrys would believe him now — because even if Emrys had seen him in the middle of it, he had not lived it, had not experienced Arthur in the throes of active addiction. He could not even explain it — he'd tried, with Desdemona and Ben and his mother, but he'd never succeeded. He needed it; he did not know why; it was like he was born to lose at gambling and to ruin everything it touched.

Arthur reached for Emrys' hand and squeezed it; through his less-feeling skin, he could still feel the warmth of Emrys' hand. "I love you," he said, explicit for the first time.

  

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set by MJ <3