December 3, 1892 - Paris, France

When Marie-Louise had turned eighteen she had know there would be no marriage for her, no family. It had been impractical to think of such a thing occuring. So she'd moved in Fallon, started her career, and attempted to hide her sorrow by learning her new life away from the comforts she had grown up with. She had thrown herself into learning how to survive, how to make do, how ignore a large part of her life she had always hoped to have. Even when she had dreamed of being a healer during her final years of school she had still hoped someone might want to marry her. But after the death of her parents, that pivital moment in her life when everything had changed, she'd had to accept that no one would marry a dowery-less working girl. She had resigned herself to that fate, contenting herself with her friendships and her career. It was enough, she had told herself, year after year, it was enough to have Fallon as family, to help people. But late at night a thought would creep through her mind, was it really enough?

Now, nine years later, Malou knew the answer. It wasn't enough. She also knew now, that her fate hadn't been written that summer day when her parents had died. Her fate had only been delayed until the Lord could lead her to someone who could look past all the flaws she brought with her and give her the family her heart longed for. For in the course of one morning not only had Marie married, she had also gained a family. A family more complete than she had ever hoped for. A husband, children, a mother, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, neices, nephews. Really it was almost obsurd how larger her family had grown in the course of one morning. But she wouldn't have changed any of that. Her patience had been rewarded with the richest gift imaginable - love and a family of her own.

Ever since they had said their vows before God Malou had felt a calm bliss steal over her soul,, calming her nerves, reminding her only of how very blessed she was. It had continued from the journey to the church to Mrs.Bagshot's home, through the portkey after the luncheon, and during the carriage journey to the hotel room where she would spend her wedding night. She had not expected such a calm after Fallon (and later Mrs. Bagshot's) discuss of what to expect the night of her wedding, indeed she'd come up with a plan to try and stay as calm as possible.

Indeed, Malou almost felt as if she were floating as she and Faustus were led through the halls of the manor he had rented on the outskirts of Paris. It was a small manor, but beautiful with lushous grounds surrounding it and the interior tasteful and very clearly expensive. She'd come to find in the next week that they stayed there that it was fully staffed as well. But for the moment she barely registered anything as they were led to the main suite. Indeed, her attention was fully focused on Faustus beside her. But then the servant left them in the room, light spilling from the open tall drapes, the door shut behind him and it was only Malou and Faustus. Alone most entirely for the first time in a year.

Just the memory of those kisses from a year ago made Malou feel heated, but they also spiked her nerves. She took a calming breathe and walked past a round dining table and two chairs set by the tea set on it, her feet hardly making noise against the blue carpet that covered most of the room, coming to a stop beside a settee to look outside the windows at the gardens below them. It was gorgeous and for a moment it distracted her. "Beautiful." She murmured in her native tongue. It was a beautiful place, far from the deary winter weather of Britian. Here there was sunshine and while it was still winter, there was something warming by simply seing the sun again.

Faustus Prewett

  

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The day had been - in a word - perfect. Faustus knew it would be, and had trusted the Bagshots to put together an absolutely beautiful wedding. It had been a tad bigger than Faustus knew both he and Marie had been expecting, but he was content in knowing they would be navigating it together after they left the altar. And something had changed when he was waiting for her at the altar; normally he'd be quite nervous, jittery almost, and thinking of the many times in society where grooms had gotten jilted. In his worst nightmares he'd seen Marie tell him he had always been to old for her, too established, but once he'd actually stood up front with his family by his side, all his worries had absolutely vanished. He knew without a doubt that she would be here, and that everything would go off without a hitch.

And before he knew it, she had been walking towards him. There was no doubt that she had taken his breath away; her hair was done up in the most beautiful way, and with the sun streaming through the windows Faustus swore she could have been an angel. He hadn't been able to stop smiling once she made it next to him, and he longed to reach out and grasp her hand. But he knew there would be time for that later. They would have all the time in the world.

From the alter to where they were now, walking through the halls of the French manor, had gone by in the blink of an eye. He should have been absolutely exhausted, and yet he felt as if he'd drank an entire bottle of Liquid Luck. After greeting their staff and re-acquainting himself with the place and with the butler, Faustus felt he might finally exhale as the oak doors closed behind him with a decided, muffled thud. And then it was blissfully quiet. It was as if up until this point, the noise had been constant, carrying them to this final moment of calm where it was just the two of them.

As he looked around the room, Faustus watched his wife take in their surroundings, taking the time to look at everything in front of her. Watching her, he felt as if he could stay there for days. There was such a gentle, steadfast air about her that he knew whenever she walked into the room, he would already know where she would be without having to glance up from his conversation.

Faustus followed her and stopped short of entering the room when he heard her murmur something in Dutch. If his learning had taught him anything, he thought she'd said something along the lines of how beautiful the grounds were. He frankly couldn't focus on much except for Marie, but he believed her nonetheless. "Yes, you are." He returned with a cheeky grin, hoping that he'd gotten that translation correct.

---

  

The first thing that registered when Faustus spoke was that Malou had spoken outloud. Her eyes widened at his words and she spun around to look at him, a blush on her cheeks. That was when she realized the second thing, he had understood her.

Fautus was standing there at the doorway his eyes glued to her, an impish smile on his lips. And she had absolutely no idea how to respond, how to accept that such turns of phrase were allowed now.

Instead addressing it she tilted her head to the side slightly and asked another question. "You know Dutch?" She was surprised how happy just the thought of Jim speaking her language made her.

  

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Little did she know he'd prepared for this exact moment. And he relished how she turned to look at him, mingled shock and delight written plain on her features. It made him laugh softly as he stood there. At least he'd gotten the translation right. His pronunciation was made slightly better by the fact that he was conversational in German, so the softer sounds of Dutch were easier to accomplish than had he not known any foreign languages.

"Gewoon een beetje," He replied, tripping over the words slightly and laughing in spite of himself. They felt, well...foreign on his tongue, but he knew with a wife fluent in a language he didn't know, he'd likely pick it up sooner rather than later. The children would certainly catch on faster than he would.

He walked towards her now, keeping the smile on his face; knowing that the first few minutes - first few days, even - would take some getting used to for the both of them. But he had nothing except excitement for the next few weeks where they would get to know each other better; better than he thought he knew her now. "I only know a few phrases here and there. Not nearly enough to string a cohesive sentence together." He laughed again, pausing in the middle of the room; he didn't want to make her feel cornered, so he contented himself with standing by the table, leaning slightly against it.

---

  

Her eyes widened at the sound of her language. It had been years since she had heard it uttered by another person and to hear it from Faustus's lips... she would never have guessed before that moment how much joy it would bring her.

Faustus was moving slowly in to the room as he explained, Malou hardly realized it but she stepped toward him, drawn to this man who made her so very happy. "Did you," Her curiosity had the words tumbling over her lips before she could consider how foolish they may be, "learn Dutch for me?" Disbelief coated her tone as she came to a stop in front of Faustus, her serious eyes looking up to meet his gaze.

  

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There. The expression of pure joy that graced her features was exactly what sent his heart soaring, and Faustus knew he would do anything to be able to see that every day for the rest of his life. He stood there, watching her approach him. The closer she got, the wider his grin became and it took all his strength not to reach out, wrap an arm around her waist and pull her into him.

Once she stopped in front of him, he first said nothing, letting the silence and the clear adoration across his face speak for themselves. But he reached down to take her gloved hand, savoring the feeling of their touch. He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss into the silk, his eyes flickering up to meet hers. "Of course I did." He murmured into her hand before lowering it slightly so he could smile at her again (really he had never stopped).

"Mind you I'm not very good at it. But luckily," He reached out his other hand to catch a lock of hair and brush it behind her ear. "I seem to have found an excellent teacher."

---

  

He had, hadn't he. Malou realized as she took in his face, the look in his eyes and the silence between them. But still her heart and time seemed to still as she waited for his answer. Slowly he captured her hand, the gentle movement and intensity in his look sent shivers through her. She could feel the heat of his hand through the silk of her glove, then his lips were pressed to it in a gesture so tender and intimate that Malou could feel heat seeping from her glove up her arm and throughout her.

He said it so simply, as if there had been nothing less obvious in the world, as if every husband (and it was here that it dawned on her that he was her husband) would learn their wife's native language. If Malou hadn't been certain of her love for Faustus she would have been in that moment. Her vision blurred with unshed tears that she blinked away and her lips pressed into a frown to keep the sentiment at bay. "Oh Faustus." She whispered into the space between them.

Her eyes fluttered closed as his fingers grazed her keep. "Luckily." She murmured in Dutch as she opened her eyes up to look at him. She reached her hand toward him, unsure of her purpose but knowing she had to find some way to show him the love that was blooming so strongly through her. The silk cupped his face as she leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, hoping it conveyed the feelings threading so strongly through her.

He was her husband, her love. He'd given her a family, a home, a love she had never expected. He'd learned her language. At every turn he had surprised her. Faustus was beyond anything seventeen year old Malou would have ever imagined when she resigned herself to the life she would be giving up - the life she had now found.

  

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Looking down at her, seeing her clear eyes shining with tears, her reached up to brush away the tears that threatened to fall. It was only that he knew they were tears of happiness that he didn't feel compelled to do much else, except keep his adoration focused on her. And who else would it have been focused on? There was absolutely no one else within their vicinity who was half as deserving as she was. There was no doubt in his mind about that. She murmured something back, in Dutch, but it was of no matter. It was such a soft, lilting language, Faustus knew he'd listen to her say anything if it meant she would be happy.

He met her in the space between them as she pressed a kiss to his lips. For a moment, that was all he needed, soft, gentle and loving, knowing that she knew how much he cared for her happiness. How much he loved her. He was taken back to last Christmas at his Aunt's party, hidden behind the Christmas tree; of stolen kisses and the residual sheer terror that seized him afterwards, of having pulled her into something she shouldn't have been in. Thinking that he was not enough for her, that she had her entire life ahead of her and he was the last person she should spend it with.

Of course now, there was no one else he would want beside him, and he would make sure until his dying breath that she knew how much she was adored; how much she was loved. The thought of last Christmas saw him move closer to her, and his arm snaked around her waist. Everything that he had the urge to do last year - to deepen the kiss but was marred by propriety - had vanished, and Faustus did exactly that. His free hand now came to lace through her hair. "Marie, He whispered against her lips.

---

  

Each step brought Faustus closer to her until she could feel his heart beating against her chest. His warmth encompassed her, held her close, surrounded her with his love. The soft kiss changed to something more, something that reminded her of last Christmas. Then it had been stolen and they had tried to ignore it, but now it was there between them, in the feeling of her name spoken against their lips. It was intense - and scary. Malou wanted more of it as her heart skittered against her chest, but at the same time she knew what came next and her mind pulled at her.

She didn't know what she wanted more, this feeling blooming through her, or the soft gentleness of the moments before. Almost without realizing it, her hand had snaked between their chests, settling against his heart and pushing ever so slightly to stop him. "Wait." She whispered against his lips, her cheeks feeling warm at her actions and those between them. This was all new to her.

  

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He nearly missed the feeling of her hand pressed against his chest. His name rushing from her lips was enough to give him pause though. Feeling the pressure of her hand now, he drew back, following her lead. Eyes searching her expression, he found hesitance in there; a touch of shyness, perhaps. It suddenly dawned on him how new this all must be to her, and he felt a slight shame rush through him. Faustus had been so eager, so exhilarated by the prospect of having a life with her that he’d let it surpass his own worry about her stepping into this world. “Yes?” It was less of a question than an agreement to her command, and he took care to make sure to smile softly at her.

---

  

Was he displeased by her request? Malou's eyes flitted up to his, looking for any sign that he was upset. Perhaps he was a bit confused, but there was a soft smile tilting his lips. Malou swallowed and did not move from her space in his arms. Instead she reached into the pocket of her gown (ever since the Sanditon disaster she had refused to wear a gown with no pocket for her wand) and drew out a small wrapped package for Faustus telling him as she did so, "I have something for you." There was a shy smile on her lips as she placed it in his free hand.

Faustus had beyond spoiled her gifts and as such Malou had been quite uncertain what to get him. But then she'd had a clockmaker in her ward. Innocuous enough, but the old man had wanted for someone to listen to him in the dark hours of early morning as he had waited for the potion to take affect. He'd told her about his latest project, an enchanted clock that told not the time, but the location of family members. Can it be made into a pocketwatch? Malou had found herself asking. It could. And so Faustus's watch held the names of himself, the children, and Malou. She'd felt sheepish about the addition of her name, but it was a bridegroom gift after all.

"I hope you like it." Malou murmured.

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   Faustus Prewett

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He could sense her searching his reaction for something, but wasn’t sure how to respond quite yet. Unsure of what her response might be, he tried to brace himself for all kinds of replies, but the last thing he’d expected was for her to pull out — a present? The grin on his face grew, and he accepted the small box from her. It was disproportionately heavy for its size, but not overly so. At her prompting, he withdrew his other hand and held it gently with both hands before untying the ribbon. The plain brown box didn’t do anything to reveal its contents, and Faustus cast her an inquiring look. Of course, he was sure to like anything she would give him, and he was momentarily caught between wanting to soothe any of her worries and wanting to open the package.

Settling on the latter, Faustus lifted the lid of the box and found inside an elegant pocket watch inside. “Oh, Marie it’s beautiful,” he murmured, handling it with care as he pulled it from its nesting place. Clicking it open though, he was met with another surprise in that it wasn’t a normal pocket watch, but most certainly an enchanted one. He found small miniatures of his loved ones staring back up at him, beaming as they sat in small golden frames. Instead of times, there was small elegant writing on the circumference of the watch. Upon further inspection, Faustus read: home, school, work, traveling, lost, hospital, prison, and mortal peril. The combination of the words with the fact that his and Marie’s dials were hovering over “traveling” whilst the childrens’ were at “school” and “home” told him all he needed to know about the function of the watch.

“Brilliant….” he said in awe, an amazed expression taking over his features as he looked from the present to his wife. How she’d managed to find such a unique and useful gift was beyond him — though a testament to her thoughtfulness — and he resisted the urge to scoop her into his arms once more. “Thank you, so much, I adore it Marie.” He leaned down to kiss her once more. “It’s perfect.”

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The look on when he saw the watch settled her nerves. He liked it. But then there was confusion followed by surprise as he realized the function of the watch. Malou bit back a smile of her own until his eye met hers, then her smiled softened with emotion. "You're welcome." Any further words were cut off with a kiss.

Malou looped her arms around his neck, lifting herself up on her toes to brush her lips against his cheek. "Don't worry, it is charmed so it shows me at work rather than the hospital all the time." Knowing Faustus he would have worried if she were always in the hospital. This way it would only show it if she were a patient rather than working. "I know how you worry." This way he could always be comforted about the children. She brushed another kiss against his lips, delighting that she could now show him how much she loved him in such a way.

  

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It'd been so long since he'd experienced the feeling of someone's arms around his neck in an embrace. As precious as the watch was to him already, Faustus had to focus on remembering it was in his hand and oh, so delicate so as to not drop it at once and take her by the waist again. He laughed softly at her additional explanation. Yes, looking down at his watch to see his wife constantly at ‘hospital’ would give him cause for some alarm during his regular day. “Thank you for sparing me the need to constantly check up on you.” He replied, only pulling away the slightest bit to peer down at her. “I’m sorry to say my present for you was not…the most practical to give you right here and now.” Faustus averted his gaze for a brief moment while a mischievous smile ghosted across his face. “So you must wait a bit more in suspense, I’m afraid.”

Even so, there would be plenty more gifts that he planned to buy for her whilst they were abroad.

---

  

Meeting his gaze she smiled, an unspoken welcome on her lips. She would always do what she could to keep Faustus from worry. To keep those worried furrows smoothed away from his brow as they were now.

At the mention of presents for her Malou blushed again. He had always been so generous with his gifts and attentions she could hardly claim she needed nor expected anything further. "I thought you were my gift?" She found herself teasing, surprised at the boldness of such a claim.

  

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Faustus would never grow tired of watching the soft pink of a blush splash itself across his wife’s features. And he would never get tired of calling her his wife. He was already grinning at her, but he burst out laughing at her cheekiness. Reaching out, he captured her chin and leaned forward to brush a kiss against her lips. “Too right, you are, my love. I am yours.” He responded, his voice low. “And as yours, I am entitled to spoil you however I may see fit.”

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