September 30th, 1888 — Connolly House, County Galway, Ireland

Home had never looked quite so imposing before, and yet it loomed over the couple like a…daunting…looming…thing. After yesterday’s blissful solitude, Maeve knew that it was time to face the music and break the news to her family. Part of her dreaded the teasing she would receive—particularly from the cousins—for getting married at all, and part of her was loath to share Barney with anyone. After all, he was hers now—why should anyone else get the pleasure of his acquaintance?

But she owed this to him, just as she owed it to her family. This did not, however, stop the redhead from ushering her new husband stealthily in via the servants’ door. Predictably, her mother was found in the parlour. She was mercifully alone: the men (and Brighid and Dublin) spent little time in here, and Niamh and the aunts were nowhere to be seen. This was right, Maeve thought, for bar her father’s absence, this was the way one should announce their nuptials.

“Mother,” Maeve spoke from the doorway, Barney’s presence behind her giving her the courage she needed, “I’ve gotten married.”

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

There were, Cait thought instantly, a number of things wrong with her eldest daughter’s statement.

To begin with it was inconceivable that any of her children should follow in the footsteps of their frankly ridiculous cousin and get married without informing the family. After Lorcan’s lapse in judgement they were all quite aware that that level of stupidity would draw the ire of everybody in the house and that was especially true of Cait. She had not spent thirty years curbing the more unsavoury behaviour of some just to see the whole family bypass eccentricity and fall straight into being pariahs.

Then of course there was the fact that it was Maeve. Ten years of suitable gentlemen being paraded in front of her has done nothing; and the last few years Cait had even begun to entertain the notion of those men for whom total respectability was more of a familial achievement rather than a personal one. Still, none of it had stuck.

Cait didn’t look up from her needlepoint as she replied fondly: “Don’t be silly dear.”

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   Maeve Connolly, Prudence Browne

Barnabas was not overly concerned for his wife's family's reaction to their unexpected nuptials. He didn't know much about the Connollys, but what he did know was that Maeve had come from there and they were an eccentric, yet tradition driven family. Sure, they'd gone against tradition with their elopement, but so had Maeve's cousin and they were doing alright, so far as he understood it. In fact, it seemed that Maeve had been the reason that the others had suffered so much. With her being the hypocrite now, she was likely to get some light teasing rather than howlers. His wife could be ferocious when angered, which he both loved and also was admittedly intimated by.

Besides, they were in love and surely, the Connolly's would be happy for her.

Her mother's flippant reaction hadn't been what he had expected. His beautiful Maeve was well into spinsterhood - Mrs. Connolly ought to have been very pleased that she'd managed to find her happiness in her later years! It wasn't too late for grandbabies, surely! That would make any mother happy; his own mother included.

Thinking it best that he intervene from the start, he pressed a reassuring hand against the small of Maeve's back and ushered her to step into the room so that he could stand beside her, rather than hover behind the doorway. Mustering his charm and wits to aid him in his wife's defense, he dipped his head politely to his new mother-in-law, "She is not silly at all, Mrs. Connolly. She's incredibly bright, in fact - and as of yesterday is my legal, lawfully wedded wife. Barnabas Skeeter, madam, at your service. I'm the Head of the Dueling Commission Office at the Ministry." There. A defense, an introduction and a reassuring 'I have money your daughter will be taken care of' all in one go. He mentally gave himself a clap on the back. Good work, Barnabas.

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   Maeve Connolly

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set by MJ | Kindly tag Prudence Browne in replies

Maeve frowned. Could her mother not even be bothered to look up from her stitching at such news?

From a rational perspective, the auror had to acknowledge that matrimony had long been anything but likely for her. Had she, however, ever shown a penchant for joking about such a—okay, yes, she probably had. But still! The depth of her love for her new husband was such that her mother's ambivalence towards her statement was firmly in camp insulting, and Maeve screwed up her place to tell the woman just that when Barney himself spoke up.

All anger in her expression evaporated at the sound of his voice, and her glare at her mother turned to a look of adoration at the man whom she had married as she moved to entwine her fingers with his own.

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

The words, initially, did not make Cait look up from her work but the voice did: of the plethora of male tones that she would expect to hear in the house this did not belong to any of the Connolly men and thus was actually intriguing. One look at the man in question made her frown. She had seen his face before – she was sure of it – but it took her a moment, and being given his name, to place him.

Barnabas Skeeter. Who was egregiously unpleasant to all around him – at least so she was told, mostly by Maeve – had opposed women duelling competitively – which she didn’t entirely disagree with him about – and was making the most extraordinary claims that she briefly entertained the idea that perhaps he was simple.

She looked from his face to Maeve’s, trying to discern what manner of joke this was.

“Well if that’s so Mr Skeeter,” she replied wryly, poking her needle into an empty space of cotton with deliberate precision. “I would have thought you’d have more pressing matters to attend to rather than taking part in whatever jest my daughter is trying to make me believe.” Shaking her head gently she raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Honestly Maeve."

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   Herbert Fudge

Well, so much for a happy celebration!

He did his best to stuff down the flare of anger that he felt. She did not think they were serious! Did she truly have no respect for her daughter's decisions? Barnabas clenched his jaw and his grip involuntarily tightened on the one that grasped his cane. Having his new mother-in-law angry at him was no way he wanted to conduct his first familial act as a married couple.

"You doubt her?" He asked incredulously, meeting her skeptic gaze with a fiercely protective one of his own, "Maeve and I are in love and we were wed at Gretna Green just 72 hours ago. Show her your ring, darling." He directed the last at Maeve, releasing her left hand so that she might present the heirloom ring to her mother. He'd had it in his nightstand for over a year - having once presented it to another girl that Maeve still didn't know about - but it was beautiful and had once belonged to his grandmother. He continued coolly, "If you need further proof Mrs. Connolly, we'll have the marriage contract sent over forthwith."

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   Elladora Black

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set by MJ | Kindly tag Prudence Browne in replies

"It is honest, Mother," the redhead retorted sharply and defiantly. She and her mother had not always seen eye to eye, but surely her mother wouldn't expect her to jest about such a subject—not when Caitriona had made it clear time and time again how important it was to her that her daughters "married well" and did other normal things. Maeve was harldy likely to be considered "normal" any time soon, but at least she had ticked one item off of her mother's ridiculous list!

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

Did she have a headache? Cait couldn’t decide, but her temples felt tighter than they had a moment before and, not being the sort of woman who was often felled by her family’s idea of a jest, she could not for the life of her think why that might be other than the terrible possibility that her heart knew something her brain refused to believe. Or why her chest felt distinctly as though something were tightening inexorably inside her, familiar only as a prelude to abject panic.

She glanced between the two entirely earnest faces, searching in vain for some hint of a smile, and when she saw nothing other than determined defiance Cait felt the beginnings of what was sure to become a mighty hysterical reaction once she was alone.

“Gretna Green?” She choked out with a distinct warble to her usually steady voice. “But…you can’t be. Your father-“

Oh dear Merlin this might actually kill him.

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   Abraxas Crabbe

Barnabas could understand that this was a bit of a shock for Mrs. Connolly. Still, you would think that she would be happy for her daughter's obvious happiness? Instead, she seemed rather... uncertain. Maeve - his darling, fiesty redheaded wife - stood her ground and he loved her even more. He'd hardly found it possible, but here he was, his heart bursting with absolute pride. He stood in supportive silence, allowing his wife to take control of the situation now that she'd steadied herself.

  

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set by MJ | Kindly tag Prudence Browne in replies

Rolling her eyes, Maeve held up her left hand so that her mother could see the ring that now encircled her finger. Merlin, after all these years of nagging, the redhead would have expected the woman to be pleased, overjoyed even! While Maeve had been prepared for a lack of enthusiasm from some of her relations—her father, in particular—her mother had never graced that particular list.

“I am happy, Mother, and Barnabas is happy—” they had not discussed a great many things, but he had expressed that he was less than enthusiastic about being called “Barney” “—and now you’ve no need to worry about me anymore, or fret that I’ll die a spinster! Really, you ought to be weeping with joy!”

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   Constance Sykes

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

Had Maeve received a blow to the head? Had she? Surely even her most stubborn child could not be so ardently avoiding the very obvious fact that this union was utterly unsanctioned and would make the whole family notorious? Worse it might well make Maeve a laughing-stock - what kind of woman married somebody she had so publically lambasted? People would think she was no more than the hysterical woman they painted them all as and Cait felt a true sense of disappointment.

Or she would, once the heart attack had stopped.

"Joy?!" She spat, rising to her feet and advancing on Maeve, her entirely unintimidating height useful against only her daughter and children below school-age. "You truly expect me to be pleased by this?"

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   Aldous Crouch

Barnabas' confidence quickly turned into alarm as his wife's mother advanced on her. What was one supposed to do in this situation? Did he step in front of his wife and insult her by thinking she couldn't handle her own, or did he let her mother assault her? Had Barnabas not been on love potion, he likely would have just bowed out of the situation and closed the door quietly behind him. Amortentia-Barnabas was much more chivalrous and hobbled forward so that he was just slightly in front of Maeve. Their shoulders brushed as he said firmly, "Mrs. Connolly, there's no need to resort to hysterics."

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   Benevolence Crouch

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set by MJ | Kindly tag Prudence Browne in replies

Maeve had not often had occasion to see her mother angry, and it was in those moments that the petite woman became formidable and that the similarities between mother and daughter became truly clear. The redhead did her best not to show any signs of intimidation, focusing her attetnions instead on the blond locks and soft, grey eyes of her newfound soulmate. That is, until he opened his mouth.

Though she loved her husband with all her heart, and though she was not overly fond of her mother’s response to the whole scenario, she could not help but shoot the wizard a look that quite plainly said Watch yourself or I will cut you. Part of her new husband’s charm was the fact that he had one or two qualities for her to repair, and his assumption that women showing emotion was merely “hysterics” was one of them.

“What Barnabas is trying to say,” the witch attempted to remedy, “is that there is no reason to let this news cause you any distress. We are married, we are, indeed, indescribably happy, and so once the shock has worn away, I have no doubt at all that you shall agree that this was the best thing that might possibly have happened to me.”

True, it was hurried and true, Maeve could—if she squinted a bit—see her mother’s points, but the deal was long since done. The time to critique it had passed, and the time was instead ripe for finding silver linings.

She offered her mother an encouraging smile.

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   Benevolence Crouch, Caitríona Connolly, Prudence Browne

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

Of all the things in the world Cait detested having her judgement called into question was high amongst them – truly Mr Skeeter could not have used a worse word that hysterics to make his point. Cait’s eyes bore into him, advancing a step as she considered whether it would be appropriate to have this…this man removed from her household by force. She had enough men in this house to do it, though she suspected one of them alone could manage it.

But of course she wouldn’t do that. Maeve would never forgive her and if this utter madness was real then her best bet was to desperately try to make her daughter see sense. Seventy-two hours…that was no time at all, it was quite possible word had not even gotten out yet and if she could only make Maeve see sense then there might yet be a way through the woods.

Which meant nobody would be defenestrated from her parlour window today, as much as she was imagining it.

“And I have no doubt that this will be one of the many, many things we are destined not to agree upon my dear.”

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   Maeve Connolly

"Destined is a strong word," He frowned, entirely oblivious to his previously poor choice of words - despite the murderous looks both women had given him. He hadn't quite known what to expect with her mother's reaction. Most mothers would be overjoyed that their spinster daughter had finally wed - and wed well, with all things considered.

He looked at his wife with the realization that this was going to be a very, very awkward living arrangement if he were to be unwelcomed by the matriarch. They hadn't discussed this as a possibility. Perhaps Maeve had suspected... she was the most clever person he'd ever met... but surely she knew what to say to turn her mother around.

  

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set by MJ | Kindly tag Prudence Browne in replies

For as long as Maeve could remember, her mother had wanted her to be a typical lady, to find a typical road in life and marry. Now she had finally done that—at least in part—and her mother was singing a different tune. Could she not win? Was it, instead, the case that her mother simply did not wish to see her ever happy?

Her smile faltered, but Maeve was stronger than her emotions and kept it firmly, almost aggressively, in place.

“Perhaps we might announce to the family at dinner,” she suggested. It was meant to be helpful, but Maeve was not foolish enough to think it would actually ease the situation. “It would surely be simpler than tracking them all down individually, and would ease any hurt if some were to find out through the grapevine.”

  

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— #PrettiesByMJ —