March 3rd, 1890 — Outskirts of Paris

Ben could not claim to be happy, nor even truly comfortable, but things had settled into enough of a routine at this point that he at least felt slightly better about this whole mess. The accommodations he'd secured for them were meager, but sufficient for their needs. It was near enough to Paris that he could go in every day and try to schmooze his way into some big, impressive deal that would make his employer forgive his impromptu trip to France. It was secure enough that he could leave during the day and not fret about any of their belongings being stolen. It was small enough to be cheap, and big enough that he didn't have to interact with Melody too frequently.

He wouldn't have said, if pressed, that he was angry at her — reminiscing on how his own life might have been different had he not been fortunate enough to have had his supportive family had taken the wind out of his sails, really, leaving him without any real anger left. Besides, the events of February 14th had only been the final catalyst on what had already been a disastrous and destructive relationship, and they'd both played a role in forming and nurturing that. But he wasn't quite ready to just talk to her as though it all hadn't happened, and he didn't know when he would ever be ready to go back to the way things had been before, on the rooftop. Maybe they wouldn't ever go back to that — maybe it was just locked in the past now.

So he spent as much time as he could out of the little studio suite, focusing on creating some work here in Paris. When he did come back, he interacted with Melody only in passing, really. Yeses and nos, answers to questions, one-sentence comments about the day's events. He brought back food, or counted out money so that she could go and get some the next day. He ate. He slept — in the bed, now, due to her constant needling when he'd first set himself up on the small sofa instead — but sleep was all that ever happened in the bed. He told himself if she so much as tried to hold his hand, he'd move back to the sofa — mostly because he knew himself too well, and knew that if she tried to start something, he wasn't going to be able to stop her. If they started sleeping together, it would only be a matter of days before they were carrying on as though they were a real couple — and he wasn't going to let his dick force him into a situation his heart and mind weren't ready for. Not again, anyway.

Despite his hesitancy to force any emotional development before he was ready for it, he was becoming more aware by the day that they were going to have to go back to England eventually, and when they did, everything was going to jump to a whole different level. He'd sent his imitation of what happy people who had just eloped sounded like to Felix, but writing the letter had been one thing — living it, at least while in the public eye, would be something else.

"We're going to have to get a ring," Ben said aloud. It was his first comment to her in five minutes or more, not that he'd been counting. "If you don't have one when we get back, people will talk."

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   Melody Crouch

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Sharing space with Ben was shockingly simple, for the pair rarely had a conversation that lasted more than two minutes. Melody kept to herself when he was home, speaking only when spoken to and dancing around him on eggshells. She was still (and likely always would be) painfully aware of the circumstances that led them here. The mess of Valentine's Day had created a chasm between them wide enough to swallow the city of Paris. A chasm which she wasn't yet brazen enough to cross.

Her only bold action since arriving in France was to force him to sleep on the bed. It had taken a week of her pushing to have him agree on alternating nights, which swiftly led to them sleeping side by side. There wasn't any other time of day that Melody felt the rift between them as much as she whilst they slept. It was a tension so suffocatingly thick she often dreamt of moving to the sofa just to be away from it. However, she knew the instant she left the bed he would question her on it — or, worse, insist upon taking the couch again himself. But, Ben had to work and find a way to settle themselves back in England. Melody refused to allow him to do so with poor rest, even if she was certain the tension was bound to kill her.

Having ate well before he returned home, Melody didn't move from her cross legged position on the sofa as they exchanged their quick pleasantries. Tonight was to be no different from the past three weeks of existing in mutual silence until it was time to retire. Instead, Melody kept her focus on the ridiculous romantic tragedy Dorothy gifted her last year for Christmas, which, she supposed, was her sister's way of being ironic. The book wasn't even meant to be packed into her trunks — for when would she ever have the time to read such trash as a society wife — but she was now grateful for its presence. It was most likely the last gift Melody would ever receive from her sister. Ben's sudden comment snapped her drifting attention away from her family. That wasn't a topic she wanted to brood upon in his presence.

Melody hadn't given much thought to jewelry since furiously returning Samuel's ring. There was likely some pieces packed away in her trunks somewhere, though she wasn't sure if there were any rings. Besides, were she to run into her parents somewhere her mother would immediately notice a ring purchased by them. Best not to go down that route.

She earmarked her page and shut her book before looking over at Ben to respond. "I saw a shop not too far from here." Her explorations of their neighborhood (and increasingly of the closest streets of Paris) was the only time when she could breathe freely. It was liberating to travel without a constant companion. "It didn't look like they had much from the outside, but perhaps they have a simple band inside."

  

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beautiful set by mj

While Ben supposed he had to give her credit for trying to think economically, that wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind. He made an inarticulate noise of disagreement as he sat back in his chair. He knew that he wanted a better ring than just some pawn shop golden band, but it took him a minute to be able to succinctly articulate why.

"We need something nice," he said. "As nice as I can afford. There are basically two kinds of people who elope," he explained. "People who are stupid and madly in love, and girls who are pregnant. And we don't want to give anyone the impression that you're the second type." Merlin knew that her reputation would suffer enough from running off with him in the first place; no need to further damage it with speculations about premarital sex. Speculations, which, technically, would have been true — but since their little closet encounter had only beaten out the marriage certificate by a few hours, Ben hardly thought it even counted anymore. Certainly, she wouldn't be with child at a suspiciously early date, but they needed to stave off the rumors in the meantime.

(There was, he realized for possibly the first time, a chance that she was pregnant, despite the fact that they hadn't so much as touched each other since that night. Merlin help them both if that was the case. He was having a hard enough time adjusting to the idea of being a husband, and the last thing he wanted now was to try and cope with the possibility of being a father, too. Best to put that safely out of mind for the moment and hope it stayed there).

"Anyway, people who are stupid and in love buy stupid romantic things like nice rings," he said, focusing back on the subject at hand. "Do you have any, in your things? We could buy a stone and have it re-set and that would be a lot cheaper than buying a whole new ring."

  

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As a former debutante of perfect standing, Melody knew how to retain a hold on her emotions when faced with a troubling thought. The forced etiquette lessons emphasized how to maintain a neutral expression and keep her body language calm. She also learned the art of the redirect and the soft, polite smile. All of which Melody was silently grateful for as she distractedly listened to Ben's explanation.

Her course was late, and it was never — not once in the near decade since being blessed with it — late. It appeared every twenty-nine days like clockwork and was due a few days after her cancelled wedding. In fact, her menses were so dependable that Marianne Finch had taken it into consideration when negotiating the wedding date. For while a honeymoon baby would be delightful, the elder woman believed having an additional few weeks to adjust to becoming a wife would somehow aid Melody significantly. Eight days late. How had she not noticed it before now? Fuck.

Determined not to alarm him before she was certain of the news herself, Melody ensured the sudden panic she felt remained undetectable. After all, panic was what forced them into this mess in the first place. She couldn't allow it to dictate another course of action before she had the opportunity to think it out herself. A week (or month) without knowing wouldn't cause him harm. If anything, he would be better for it.

Which brought her back to the topic at hand. "I don't think I have any rings." She answered uneasily. "There's probably a brooch we can have a jeweler use the stones and gold from." Melody looked towards the corner of the room where her unpacked trunks (as she removed what was necessary but left the rest) resided before continuing, "is it worth the expense, though? The talk is going to exist regardless of how ornate my ring is. We're both aware that this wasn't because I'm pregnant, so shouldn't we save where we can?" And she wasn't pregnant. She refused to be.

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   Reuben Crouch

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beautiful set by mj

Her resistance to the idea surprised him, and it was hard to figure out exactly where it was coming from. Was this some sort of self-imposed punishment or martyr thing, after the elopement? It wasn't as though making her wear an ugly, cheap ring was going to change anything, so it seemed a little pointless in that avenue. Maybe she thought their financial situation was a little more dire than it was, since he'd chosen the cheapest accommodation he could find. Truthfully, if Ben kept his job (never truly a guarantee, with him), and they lived modestly enough, they weren't going to be bankrupt any time soon. The most difficult aspect was finding a place to live, but the money they were saving in Paris could help them out there.

"You're going to be wearing it the rest of your life," he pointed out. "Don't you want something nice? Not, like, elaborate, or anything," he clarified. "But nice-ish. I think with something to either use as the base or trade in, we can afford it."

He paused, looking down at his hands for a moment and considering. "It's not like your reputation is some all-or-nothing thing, you know," he eventually pointed out. "We want to salvage as much of it as we can, under the circumstances. It'll help things — uh —" Ben hesitated. He'd been about to say get back to normal sooner, but what the hell was normal, now? Did either of them know?

"It'll help," he concluded uncertainly.

  

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Elaborate jewelry was never one of Melody's passions, as the pieces were often a heavy burden (both literally and figuratively) to wear. The few times Melody wore some of the more intricate designs (Marianne Finch was in possession of.a ruby necklace that resembled the weight of a small child) she spent the night fretting over keeping them safe as opposed to enjoying showing them off. While a nice ring likely wouldn't overwhelm her with its weight, she still didn't agree that it was a necessity for their return home. The rumors were likely to follow them for years to come — what difference did a ring make?

She shrugged. "A ring isn't what will make a difference in my future." And it wasn't. Whether or not Ben would one day forgive her enough for them to have some measure of happiness was where her concern lie. An eternity of walking on eggshells around him as she waited for his acceptance was unimaginable. Truthfully, Melody was slowly coming to believe they both would've been better off if he divorced her. At least then they might have each had their own chance for happiness, however limited.

"I'll look in my trunks for something if you think it will help." She said after a minute. They were going to have to discuss more than a ring if he was that worried about their reputation. People would notice if they scarcely spoke to one another at events, especially if he was hoping to sell the wildly in love image.

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   Reuben Crouch

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beautiful set by mj

"Yeah," Ben answered immediately. He looked over at her, visibly frustrated that this conversation was taking so much more time and effort than he'd anticipated. Why was she still so reticent about a stupid ring? It was his money (or at least, he was the one currently going out each day to work for it), and his idea. He'd thought she'd be... well, happy was a strong term, but at least not openly resistant to having some nice token to return to England with. Something to show for her troubles besides the loser of a husband she was stuck with.

Another thing bothered him, too, about her reluctance, on a slightly more personal note. He was expecting to have to put up a grand act when they returned to Hogsmeade — an act that he'd have to devote himself to playing out most hours of the day — and she couldn't even allow him a prop?

"I want you to have a nice ring," he continued insistently. "Because if I'd run off with you, I would've bought you one. If you're not interested in shopping for it, I'll do it."

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   Melody Crouch

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That was just it though, wasn't it? Ben hadn't run off with her. They weren't in this situation due to any joy or love shared, but because she forced his hand. If Ben had his way, she would be Mrs. St.John-Black and he would be free to pursue some other doe eyed debutante. Melody gripped the book tightly, her fingers immobilized on its spine. A ring (plain, nice or beautiful) was only going to serve them — her — as a token of remembrance. A shining, sparkling, constant reminder of her greatest mistake.

"Merlin, Ben. It's a bloody ring." She snapped before she was able to think better of it. Having suffered through three weeks of thick tension, her own frustration was mounting. Melody flung her book beside her on the sofa and went to summon her jewelry chest from her trunks. Without opening it, she stalked over to the small table he was sitting at and dropped the small box unceremoniously. "You didn't run off with me, and we're not stupidly in love. A ring won't change what I did." She said with a huff.

Melody sat opposite him before continuing, "we have far greater problems than a ring if you're hoping to sell the idea that this wasn't what it was." Her frustration dissipated slightly as she spoke, though she was still obviously irritated.

  

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Ben was frustrated by her response, but ready to end the conversation there and just figure the whole thing out himself — since she apparently didn't care — until her last comment. What did she mean, if they were hoping to make people believe that this wasn't what it was? It wasn't like there was any other option. He realized suddenly that they'd never actually talked about it, and while he thought something like please don't get yourself sent to Azkaban without running it by me first would have been safely left unsaid, he would have thought the same about going home to her parents mere hours after eloping and having a whole fucking chat about it before he'd even figured out what he wanted to do.

"Wha — of course we're going to sell it," he sputtered, his mind whirling as he thought about what level of damage might have already been done if she had said anything to anyone. She hadn't been in contact with anyone from England that he knew of, but she'd been at the hotel room by herself all day, everyday. She certainly could have been sending letters, and saying whatever she wanted to in them. Merlin — why hadn't he thought to talk about this earlier? For someone who was objectively smarter than him on paper, Melody could be so stupid about some things.

"We have to do this," he stressed. "Put on the show, and everything. You know what would happen if anyone found out what really happened? It'd be bad for both of us." Ben wasn't sure exactly how illegal the potion he'd acquired was, on a scale of 'minor fee collection' to 'go directly to Azkaban,' but he wasn't willing to find out. And even if they did avoid criminal charges of any kind for possessing the thing in the first place, there was no chance that anyone would support the two of them if they knew the truth. Ben would have no choice but to divorce her, and she'd be out on the streets — and even now, after living in relative squalor on the outskirts of Paris for weeks, Ben wasn't sure she really appreciated the gravity of that possibility.

"The minute we get back to England, we're going to be lovesick fools whenever anyone's looking — and yeah, it's going to be fucking exhausting, but we're going to do it," he insisted. "Because that's the only thing we can do, at this point. That's the only way any of this ever ends up okay again. We're going to be okay," he added, slightly softer now. "We're going to have a place to live and food on the table, and eventually people are going to get tired of talking about this and we'll be able to live normal lives again. We're going to get there, but we're going to have to do our part and get through this, first."

He had a quick impulse to do something — reach out and take her hand, maybe, or offer some other gesture of vague comfort — but he wasn't sure how it would be received, so he ended up just fidgeting. After a beat, he asked tentatively, "Have you told anyone anything about... what really happened?"

  

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"Of course not." Melody answered somewhat defensively. The letter she'd written to Diana was penned during a rather melancholy moment, but there was nothing incriminating within its pages. She wasn't fool enough to believe every word shared with her dear friend would remain strictly confidential. One unintentionally loose lipped conversation (not that Diana was ever that careless in the past) and Melody and Ben would be exposed — she wasn't about to take that risk. "I exchanged a few letters with friends of mine...those that are still speaking to me anyway. Nothing I've said exposes anything other than regret for the scandal it caused. I'm not a complete fool." While Ben was well within his rights to distrust her, she still felt disappointed by how little faith he had. Though, perhaps that was only her lingering disappointment at his lack of love rather than his lack of trust.

She settled against her chair. Would a ring really help them sell the lovesick image? Melody doubted it, not when he hardly ever even looked at her while in the same room. Ben seemed to believe there would be a magical shift upon returning home where they would suddenly be able to function around one another without this awkwardness. He might be a beautiful actor, but short of her expected behaviors Melody was decidely not.

"I don't expect your forgiveness, nor do I deserve it. We are going to have to be able to hold a pleasant conversation, though. You're going to have to look at me without anger in your eyes." She began to explain cautiously, fearful of sparking an argument. "That's more of what I meant. Not whether or not we do it, but whether or not we're convincing..." The act would have to be maintained every time they left the house, and perhaps even at home if they had a servant(s). He was right — it was going to be bloody exhausting.

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   Reuben Crouch

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beautiful set by mj

Ben let out a sigh of relief as she explained that she hadn't confessed anything. That was something, at least. They weren't in any more trouble than they had been on February 15th, and for now, that was enough to cling to.

She had a point, but that didn't mean that Ben had any good response. He sighed. "I know," he admitted. "I'll get there. I'm just... not there yet."

  

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She nodded stiffly. It was wrong of her to have expected a better response, though she did anyway. At least he understood now that a ring was meaningless if they weren't on better terms before heading back to Scotland.

Certain that the conversation was over (as this was possibly the longest one they've held in weeks) Melody stood to return to her book. "The only piece I ask we don't trade in is the rose brooch. Maisie, my elder sister, gave it to me to wear on her wedding day. You can choose anything else." She said quietly. Maisie was likely to never say another word to her in their lives, and while Melody was slowly coming to terms with it she knew having a sentimental item would help cope with the loss in later years. "And...when you go to the jeweler I would like to go with you, if you don't mind." She added lastly.

  

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beautiful set by mj