Tybalt wasn’t even halfway through the first note when his gaze caught on the puddle at her feet. Well, that... he didn’t even know what to say about that, but he was sure it meant that they didn’t have as much time as he’d hoped.
“I will,” Tyb said fervently, scribbling Sebastian’s name at the top of the note, hurtling back to the window to attach it to the post owl and practically tossing the owl out the window. He and Elsie’s cousin might have had their differences since the elopement, but they had since settled those; and besides, Tyb was so desperate not to be left alone with Elsie giving birth that even if he and Sebastian Beauregard had been eternal nemeses, he probably would have apparated there to bodily escort him back to their house one way or another.
But the owl would have to do, because although Tybalt wanted nothing more than to escape this room before anything else happened, he couldn’t leave Elsie alone. Of course he couldn’t. So. “Linens,” Tyb agreed, grateful beyond words for the simple instruction, but making sure to squeeze her arm as he passed her, because she couldn’t possibly be as calm as she was trying to sound.
She’d always been so steadily brave, though. Thank Merlin for that, Tyb thought, as he trudged back with a pile of folded linens and draped them over the bed without much being conscious of it, his mind spinning off in a hundred different directions at once but trying his hardest not to let himself think about how dangerously wrong this could go. Once he’d paused in place, his gaze found Elsie again, worried about how she was doing with the spasmodic bursts of pain. “What else do you need?”
“I will,” Tyb said fervently, scribbling Sebastian’s name at the top of the note, hurtling back to the window to attach it to the post owl and practically tossing the owl out the window. He and Elsie’s cousin might have had their differences since the elopement, but they had since settled those; and besides, Tyb was so desperate not to be left alone with Elsie giving birth that even if he and Sebastian Beauregard had been eternal nemeses, he probably would have apparated there to bodily escort him back to their house one way or another.
But the owl would have to do, because although Tybalt wanted nothing more than to escape this room before anything else happened, he couldn’t leave Elsie alone. Of course he couldn’t. So. “Linens,” Tyb agreed, grateful beyond words for the simple instruction, but making sure to squeeze her arm as he passed her, because she couldn’t possibly be as calm as she was trying to sound.
She’d always been so steadily brave, though. Thank Merlin for that, Tyb thought, as he trudged back with a pile of folded linens and draped them over the bed without much being conscious of it, his mind spinning off in a hundred different directions at once but trying his hardest not to let himself think about how dangerously wrong this could go. Once he’d paused in place, his gaze found Elsie again, worried about how she was doing with the spasmodic bursts of pain. “What else do you need?”
