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Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1894. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.

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Did you know? Jewelry of jet was the haute jewelry of the Victorian era. — Fallin
What she got was the opposite of what she wanted, also known as the subtitle to her marriage.
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Private
Broken Promises
#1
April 6th, 1892 - Winnie's Room
Dorian Fisk

This birthday had been one for the record books; in the worst way possible. Winnie was pretty sure she was going to swear off men completely and find herself a nice lady lover from here on out. She had a headache for more than one reason, and the letters from Dorian were not helping. Of course the more immediate reason was the blossoming black eye and split lip she was currently sporting from a man she had never intention of castrating if he ever came near her again.

Everything had been fine up until tonight. She hadn't bothered to mention her birthday, what was there to celebrate anyway? Win had been invited over for a little fun and that was all she'd wanted. That was most unfortunately not what she walked into and she should have trusted her first instinct to bolt, but she had been understandably nervous. She had never seen him drunk and now she knew why. Her former lover had clearly started without her and in a right state before she'd gotten there, but he continued and she hadn't known how to safely back out. In hindsight she should have just disapparated as soon as she caught wind of his issues, but it hadn't been immediately apparent.

Well, he would no longer be putting hands on anyone again as she hex she'd fired off before leaving would certainly be a painful reminder and if he didn't get it treated immediately, he would certainly be losing some use of that dominant hand. He'd made a mark though, evident in the bruising on her neck and the damage to her face, but she would be alright; she had learned her lesson.

Washing up in the basin, she dabbed gently at the cut on her lip and eyebrow, hoping the latter wouldn't need stitches. When the fireplace lit up green she reacted without thinking, grabbed her wand and pointed it at the fireplace, heart racing. "Merlin's beard Fisk, you scared the daylights out of me." She shouldn't have anticipated anyone else, Dory was the only one who used her floo and her former paramour did not know where she lived, but fuck if that hadn't terrified her.

In an uncharacteristic reaction, tears prickled at the corners of her eyes as she lowered her wand, casting it aside again she stared at Dory uncertainly.




[Image: Winnie-Sig.png]
#2
Dory hadn't intended to write to Winnie on her birthday — not when their relationship was now nonexistent with far too much baggage to ever fully address. However, he'd spent the majority of that night drinking to suppress the memories of their previous birthdays spent together and the letter was sent before he could think better of it. It was a mistake, just as revealing some of his baggage in a subsequent letter had been.

Now, there was simply too much to discuss to do so via letter. It wasn't as though he could pen a letter explaining that he had, in fact, thought of marrying her before the pregnancy was even an issue and expect her to react well to it. No. She would likely sent him a howler with a jinx attached or show up at his flat shouting. Unfortunately for him not discussing everything through post meant doing so in person, which was mildly terrifying.

It took him all of two seconds to register the wand aimed at him and the fear in Winnie's voice. It took another few seconds still before the extent of her injuries made sense to his brain. Someone had violently attacked her, likely tried to murder her from the look of her neck. "Winnie." He greeted cautiously, taking two steps forward so that she was now in arms reach. Dory thought to embrace her, to show her whatever had happened would never happen again, but was unsure if his touch would comfort her.

"Who - what?" He hadn't the slightest idea of where to start. "How did this happen? Who did this?"


#3
Oh that look on his face; Winnie was fairly certain she had never seen it before and she would like to never see it again.

"I'm fine, it's fine. It's been... handled." Unusually flustered, Winnie wasn't sure what to do with her hands, or him, or whatever it was that was happening. Maybe it was a delayed reaction to the attack, now that she was home and safe, but she did not like the feeling settling over her. Winnie had never felt this sort of powerless in her entire life, even when Kit had been missing, and she hated it. She hated even more that Dory was still looking at her like that.

She turned away, because she couldn't quite meet his eye and grabbed the cloth she had been using to stem the flow from her eyebrow. In the dim light of her room, she hoped things didn't look as bad as they felt, but she was sure he was inspecting every inch of her and she had no idea how to cope with it.




[Image: Winnie-Sig.png]
#4
Gently, as though she was a baby bird capable of being squished in his grasp, Dory reached for her upper arm to turn her back around. He knew she was capable of defending herself and that the man who'd done this was likely suffering as much as she presently was, but such knowledge didn't satisfy his growing impulse to squeeze the life out of the perpetrator. This was his best friend, his long time lover, his confidante. That someone harmed her would never sit well with Dory.

One look at her still bleeding forehead had him frowning. It was a wide gash that would leave a visible scar if not tended to. "May I help? Please?" After spending so much time with Maple these last few months Dory had picked up on a few simple healing spells. "You'll scar if it's not mended." He explained gently. "I know a mediwitch if you'd prefer. It doesn't have to be me."



[Image: VgXU69.jpeg]
beautiful set by lady
#5
Winnie visibly recoiled at his touch and it took all of her willpower not to wrench herself from his grasp. That visceral reaction ignited something in her that equated to panic and Winnie tried to push it down with a deep, rattling sigh. "Fine," She breathed, unable to say much of anything else without betraying to myriad of emotions bubbling under the surface. She didn't have the energy or the bite in her to fight with him at the moment.

Still unsure was to what to do with her hands, Winnie, fidgeted with the towel in her hands. She was familiar with blood and all sorts of other bodily fluids, but somehow it felt different when it was her own. "Just stop looking at me like that." Alright, maybe she had a little of her usual bite. She desperately needed some sort of familiarity to get through this. She would circle back around to the mediwitch later.




[Image: Winnie-Sig.png]
#6
Despite knowing there was no chance of him looking at her with anything but concern, Dory nodded once as he released her arm and gestured for her to sit on the bed. The only other emotion he felt towards the situation was pure rage, and that clearly was something she wasn't ready to speak of yet. Soon, he hoped, for he knew he wouldn't rest until the situation was fully handled.

Once she was sitting, Dory knelt before her and reached for the discarded rag to wipe some blood from her wound. "Are there any other open cuts?" He asked whilst praying the bastard hadn't done this to Winnie while she was undressed.


#7
Following directions without complaint, Winnie lowered herself to the bed, hands at a loss as he took the rag from her. Instead she curled them into the fabric of her chemise, bunching the fabric around her knees in a tight grip. She stared at them, still avoiding his eyes. "Just my lip." She assured him quietly, afraid to move while he dabbed at her eyebrow. At least the split lip had stopped bleeding. It was sore as fuck though.

Wincing at the pressure on the wound, she hissed in protest, but did not move away. All of her energy was gone after everything that had happened over the last few hours and frankly she wanted to take a tonic and go to sleep, which Dory had promptly interrupted... only she couldn't find it within herself to be angry with him. In fact she was relieved he was here, even if he was keeping her from passing out.




[Image: Winnie-Sig.png]
#8
"I should be able to heal that too." Dory told her softly as he drew his wand. He was silently grateful that the assault hadn't been worse than what was obviously visible. Short of her obliviating him there was nothing that could be done to stop him from going after the bastard in that case.

Placing the rag back on the bed besides her, Dory then murmured, "The spell might sting more. I'm sorry if it does, it'll be over quick." Merlin, did he wish he knew numbing spells. Anything to prevent her from feeling more pain. Once she acknowledged that she was ready, Dory cast the stitching spell and immediately returned his wand to his pocket once it had healed.


#9
Winnie nearly spat at him to quit babying her and just do the damn thing, but he was already lowering his wand and she tenderly pressed her fingers to her temple in wary test of the space. His spell did the trick, with a minor sting, but she was less apt to let him anywhere near the cut on her lip. Win rather thought she deserved that as the reminder for being so stupid. At least she was no longer actively bleeding.

"Leave it, I just wish to get some sleep." She pressed her hand to her other temple and waved him off. His hovering was both endearing and suffocating. Her head ached, as did her body and she just wanted the blissful refuge that sleep offered from the torments of both her body and mind. "Stop fussing, I cannot handle it right now." She added, eyes still on her lap. A simple request, one without authority or sass, in hopes he would heed her for once without argument.




[Image: Winnie-Sig.png]
#10
"Alright." None of this was alright, but she was obviously near her breaking point and he had little right to push her right now. Reaching for one of her hands, Dory squeezed it as reassuringly as he could before releasing her altogether and sitting back on his haunches.

Frowning now, Dory looked back towards the floo before turning his attention back to her. How was he supposed to leave her like this? Merlin knew he wouldn't sleep a wink back at his place. "Do you want me to stay? Or you could come back to mine? I'll sleep on the sofa." At least whoever hurt her wouldn't know to look for her at his place. "Or I can summon someone for you. It doesn't have to be me."


#11
Truthfully, Winnie had thought about thrusting her company upon Emelia tonight, her sister-in-law would ask no questions, would not even bat an eyelash at the hour or the current condition of her face, but that would mean sleeping somewhere other than her own bed, and still alone.

"Would you stay?" For the first time since his arrival, she turned her eyes toward his, afraid of his reaction to the bruising that darkened her pale skin. Their estrangement left her unsure of how to act around him, which she hated almost as much as the mistakes she'd made last night. Nevertheless, she needed his company, his steadiness and someone she trusted to be near her for what was undoubtedly going to be a long night.





[Image: Winnie-Sig.png]
#12
"Of course." A short breath of relief escaped him when she asked. Without knowing anything of the man who harmed her, Dory wouldn't have been willing to leave her completely on her own. What if he returned? What if he finished the task this time? Dory would almost certainly suffocate under the weight of that guilt.

He didn't comment on the bruise, nor did he allow any grimace to show on his face as he realized the force of the hit required for it. She was lucky to be conscious after that, especially if he then considered the bruising on her neck.

After pressing a brief kiss to her hand, Dory stood and shrugged off his coat. "I can sit over here and keep watch if you'd prefer." He wasn't about to climb into bed with her without explicit permission, even if all he wanted to do was hold her to him.


#13
Relief came out in a slow sigh. She passed him a small half-smile. Standing as he did, she swayed a little out of dizziness, steadying herself on his arm briefly before she crossed to her dresser to get the headache tonic from her carpet bag.

She downed it in one sip, like a shot of whiskey, and followed it with a long drink of water to wash away the taste. "No reason to keep watch, nobody uses the floo but us." She assured him. "He doesn't know where I live." She added a bit more quietly. Win didn't want to talk about what happened, about him, so she took a deep breath and instead choose to pull at the ribbon holding her braid together.

Loose brown waves fell over her shoulders as she ran her fingers through the tangled tresses. For the first time since coming home this morning, Winnie felt at home, at ease. She'd spent hours too long crying and panicking and wondering what to do before she had mustered the courage to take a look at herself in the mirror, shortly before Dory had arrived. At least she'd managed to clean herself up and change before he'd come. If he'd seen her at that low point, she was sure his reaction would have been much worse.

Gingerly she crawled into her bed, sinking into the softness gratefully. Once comfortable, she patted his side gently, still afraid to say much in fear that the mess of emotions still simmering would explode and she lost it yet again.




[Image: Winnie-Sig.png]
#14
He placed his free hand on the small of her back to help steady her as she stood. Perhaps in the morning he could convince her to allow a healer to attend her. Ms. Skovgaard would be discreet, he was sure, or even Maple if she refused a full healer. Truthfully, he would've felt better if she was examined that night but knew it was a futile fight.

"I'm going to lock it for tonight anyway, okay?" It wasn't a question for he was already giving her space to ready herself for sleep and swiftly closing off the floo. Just because the man didn't know where she lived when they last parted didn't mean he was incapable of finding out. A ministry friend or a chatty neighbor could easily rid her of that safety measure. To that, Dory quickly cast every protective ward he knew. It was overkill, he knew, but if it helped her at all it was worth the effort.

He watched her get into bed with a hint of unease. Typically, he slept shirtless at the bare minimum or, preferably, in the buff. Obviously, he couldn't do that tonight, but would she be offended if he remained fully clothed? Deciding on a half measure, Dory focused his gaze on her for any signs of having made the wrong choice as he unbuttoned and removed his shirt. The undershirt kept him covered enough (more than he'd ever been whilst in her bed) and was light enough that he might be able to doze.

With the invitation fully extended, Dory climbed in next to her and wasted no time in pulling her into his chest. "I got you, Win. You're safe." He promised in a near whisper. "I'm not going anwhere."


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#15
Whatever it was he was doing to ward her room was nothing compared to simply having him there with her. She needed the comfort of a familiar body in bed with her and nobody was more familiar to her than Dory. She sighed once more, relieved to feel him against her, the feeling of the safety of his arms around her was all she needed.

Of course he then went and completely undid her with only a few words. The flood gates opened as the pent up up emotions spilled out in unrestrained sobs against his shirt. She clung to him, fingers curled into his shirt like he was the only thing keeping her afloat in a sea of uncertainty and helplessness.




[Image: Winnie-Sig.png]
#16
Any hesitations he had over whether or not his embrace was too tight vanished at the first of her sobs. Instead, he pulled her in further, burying his face on her hair and throwing one of his legs over hers in the process. There wasn't an inch left of space left between them and it still didn't feel as though she was close enough.

"You're safe, Win. I promise." He repeated into her hair as she cried. "He won't find you here."



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