September 8th, 1893 — An Art Gallery in Magical London

Merida stepped into the art gallery, Tim had picked a good location for his fundraiser - grand and yet suitably intellectual. She. The dress up theme was also a great deal of fun - and it hadnt taken her long to light on her inspiration - her vibrant red hair cascading down her shoulders like a waterfall of flames. The soft glow of chandeliers overhead illuminated the elegant blue dress she wore, a nod to the Pre-Raphaelite aesthetic that had captured her imagination. The intricate details of the gown were adorned with delicate embroidery, reminiscent of the intricate brushstrokes of a master painter. Sprigs of lavender nestled amidst her curls, around her throat and wrists, releasing a soothing fragrance as she moved.

The atmosphere was alive with the hum of conversations and the tinkling of glasses, the air heavy with anticipation. Merida's pale blue eyes sparkled as they swept across the room, taking in the mingling crowd of notable figures. It did seem as though the 'who's who' had come. Her gaze scanned the room, passing over Tim who was schmoozing effectively it seemed. She could appreciate his ambition, even if she occasionally teased him about it. The letters between them with respect to his ministerial run had provided her endless amusement, and she couldn't help but grin at the memory.

Adjusting a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Merida took a step forward, her dress swaying with her movement. Her heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she navigated her way through the art-adorned space. Murdock's skepticism about Leo's campaign was hardly a surprise, but Merida couldn't help but appreciate the audacity displayed in his bid for office.

Merida found a vantage point along the wall, where she could observe. She sipped on a glass of champagne, her eyes fixed on Leo as he eloquently presented his platform to come contributor or other. The soft curve of her lips hinted at a mix of amusement and curiosity, her mind already churning through the teasing comments she could make on his next visit to the reach. Tonight was going to be fun.


Estelle Malfoy
Merida's costume

  

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This gala may be more for voting men, but Estelle had been sure to bully her way into accompanying one of the Malfoy men for this. It was his event, after all, and she wanted to be able to distract or frustrate him or taunt him about it later.

So there were pearls in her hair and a medallion at her neck with her ivory dress, and she had mostly been surveying other people’s costumes from afar (she didn’t recognise many of the paintings, not that she cared). Until she had followed a spritely-looking redhead’s gaze, and saw it – kept seeing it – trained on him.

“Do you know him?” Estelle asked coolly, drifting over to Miss Greyback’s side and raising her eyebrows in his direction. She must be acquainted with him, for she was smiling at him across the room. Her question might have seemed idle, but beneath that veneer, she needed answers.

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Merida's eyes had been following Maxime as he moved through the crowd, speaking as he was now with Murdock. However, her contemplation was interrupted by the voice of a cool and confident woman who had approached her. It was clear that she had noticed Merida's attention on Timleon.

Merida turned her attention toward Estelle, her pale blue eyes meeting the woman's gaze. She allowed a small, knowing smile to play on her lips as she replied, her tone light and somewhat mischievous. "Oh, you mean Mister Maxime over there?" She nodded toward him but didn't immediately confirm their acquaintance. Instead, she decided to play along with Estelle's curiosity.

"He's quite a character, isn't he?" Merida continued, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Our families are rather close, like one of those cousins you can't help but find entertaining." she chuckled, her eyes twinkling with a hidden joke.

Merida's mention of "Mister Murdock Greyback is my brother" was deliberate, a subtle hint at their connection. She wondered if Estelle would catch it and make the connection between Leo and her brother. "Mister Maxime works for him," she added, inviting Estelle to draw her own conclusions.

  

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Estelle knew nothing about the Ministry, really – it was rather a dull topic, who worked in which department and with whom; and all of their jobs seemed tiresome, too, none worthy of the twenty-minute-long explanations gentlemen usually gave about them – but she was less than encouraged to hear Miss Greyback had both a professional and a family connection with him. It seemed just the sort of unfortunate convenience that might lead to an arrangement between the families – a harried brother throwing his sisters on his right hand man.

But Miss Greyback had said cousin, so Estelle’s shoulders were not all tension.

“You find him entertaining, then?” Estelle asked, as if only casually interested. (A character, Miss Greyback had said: she knew him well, then. Well enough to tease him.) “How so, exactly?”

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Merida couldn't help but notice the subtle change in Miss Malfoy's demeanor when she mentioned the professional and family connections between Leo and herself. The question that followed was not unexpected. The question seemed casual, but Merida sensed an underlying curiosity. Estelle was likely more familiar with Timleon than she initially let on.

Merida regarded Estelle with a playful glint in her pale blue eyes, realizing that this conversation was taking on a more intriguing turn. "Oh, he's quite the character, indeed," Merida replied with a teasing smile. "Entertaining, well, in a 'can't take your eyes off a train wreck' kind of way." She chuckled softly. "He's like one of those people who's always in some sort of misadventure, and he handles it with all the grace of a falling piano." she smirked, taking a sip of champagne - it was perhaps unfair to Timleon that most of her most notable encounters with him involved him being bitten by things of getting into calamities and having her rescue him.

  

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She didn’t like the redhead’s light, spritely tone – it was all rather mischievous and impish for her. Estelle disdained fun, and preferred a little solemn gravity.

And inside, she bristled to hear Mr. Maxime called a train wreck, however teasingly it had been offered. (This was bad news – perhaps Estelle should have done this sort of homework sooner, and stopped herself from becoming so... involved with him before it had such potential to blow up in her face.)

“What sort of misadventures have you witnessed him getting into, then?” Estelle continued, not going to argue about his gracelessness but not ready to stop probing yet, either.

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Merida turned her smiling face on the other lady and found it faltering under the severity of the other's expression. She didn't know Miss Malfoy well, indeed hardly at all beyond her name, and she had been expecting to see an amused smile on the other woman's face not the expression of intensity that was mirrored back to her. She cleared her throat 'Ohh nothing really' she said in a throwaway and not entirely convincing manner, 'mostly him getting bitten or attacked by things in the course of his work' she explained, that wasn't strictly true, but also not strictly a lie, a few of the biting incidents had nothing to do with werewolves - even if one had involved his boss almost ripping his throat out.

'I'm a healer' she clarified, 'Creature injuries', as though that explained everything of what there was between Maxime and the Greybacks. It didn't explain why she had seen him in all but his undergarments - he had been bleeding out at the time, but she wasn't sure that was a distinction Miss Malfoy would appreciate under the circumstances. 'How do you know Mister Maxime?' she added quickly, keen to change the focus from herself to the severe blonde.

  

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“We’ve played croquet,” Estelle said shortly, which was as much as she was ever going to explain to the likes of Miss Greyback. She did not like her free-spirited manners, her red hair, or her dirtying her hands with a profession. But this was a mildly interesting angle, creature-induced injuries, what sort of injuries did he get? Wasn’t he in Law Enforcement? Oughtn’t he have been a patient in Spell Damage, if anywhere?

“What kind of creatures has he been attacked by?” Estelle queried, as if this was remotely relevant to the question of should anyone vote for him.

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Merida nodded her acknowledgment, she almost couldn't imagine Maxime playing anything as dainty as croquet. Their interactions had had all the subtly of a sledge hammer - almost getting one's throat ripped out by your boss and then having his sister nurse you back to health tended to dispense with the need for any real subtlety. Seeing him partially clothed once a month for his medical examination and attention got rid of the remainder.

Of course, she couldn't tell Miss Malfoy anything about this or anything else. She wasn't his mother or his wife and Merida was sure she was being tested - or perhaps Mister Maxime was. 'He hasn't lost any fingers lets just say' She smiled, 'you'd be surprised at all the high jinks Murdock got himself into when he was in Mister Maxime's position' Merida laughed merrily.

  

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If Estelle were not a lady, she might have supposed he could have stood to lose a finger or two, just for good measure if he had not already lost them up his arse. She wrinkled her nose regardless, because she thought little of hijinks. Of any kind.

“I suppose I would be,” Estelle agreed, top lip curled. “You make it sound as though their Ministry work is all – antics and tomfoolery.” Surely Mr. Greyback and Mr. Maxime ought to be serious men in such positions, not overgrown boys?

Unless Miss Greyback’s own idea of fun adventures were just ridiculous near-death recklessness. She seemed that sort who had too much wayward humour and too little sense.

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Miss Malfoys severe expression could not be mistaken, and Merida tried to school her expression, it wasn't entirely effective, but her expression was more steady when she said 'Perhaps my view is coloured by the eyes of a sister' she said, she loved her brothers, but it was hard to take them seriously doing just about anything, even if she knew that Murdock was good at his job - and she had no real reason to believe that Maxime was any different - although his last criminal hunch had ended up with him getting his throat almost ripped out be a werewolf...so there was that.

'Are you and Mister Maxime close?' she asked, taking an innocent sip of her champagne, wondering if this was going to be something fun to tease Timleon about. Even if this interest was one-sided on Miss Malfoys part she would pass up no opportunity to make Timleon's life miserable.

  

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“Perhaps,” Estelle agreed, at Miss Greyback’s explanation for her own opinions on her brother and Mr. Maxime. She had no blindspots about her siblings’ characters or affectations about their activities, but she had to suppose that other people were simply not as coolly objective as she was.

And now she had to put up with Merida Greyback’s questioning in return, so maybe this had not been a wise conversation to have.

Were they close? “I find him rather intolerable,” Estelle said – which did not answer the question directly, but that depended on how one defined close. And she had no intention of letting Miss Greyback into her confidence there. “Do you think he’ll do well, in his campaign?” she asked, more in general – judgemental – musing than anything.

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'I find him intolerable' - that tracked. She had never been anything but nice to Maxime and yet had was always an ass. Murdock, as far as she knew had never been anything but companionly to him, and yet he had broken into their home - and gotten himself mauled for his trouble. She secretly wondered if it was possible for him to be pleasant to anyone, she had never actually seen it but she supposed it must be true if he had managed to get to his current position. She had thought, or at least suspected that her families 'status' - Maxime was pureblood after all was the source of his disdain, but if he was dismissive of Miss Malfoy, it couldn't just be that.

'I think he will' she mused, she was basing this on nothing other than the vaguest sense of loyalty, since he was the candidate with whom she was most familiar. She knew that there were concerns about him taking so public a position while still being so new to the being a werewolf - but Murdock had tried, and failed, to dissuade him. 'People seem to find him charming' she smirked, a puckish smile pulling at her lips. 'If he does he will become quite the catch' she took a sip of her champagne, suddenly very interested in the rim of her glass.

  

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That was decidedly not what Estelle had wanted to hear. (She and Mr. Maxime had their competition of sorts, after all – it was a point of pride to prove that she would marry before he found anyone to accept him. Or: that he would ruin himself, somehow, before he could ruin her.)

She suppressed a snort. Charming. Imagine that. (He was only charming in the least when his mouth was too occupied for talking.)

“You’re not looking to marry, are you?” Estelle queried, turning the conversation from Mr. Maxime to Miss Greyback herself. She was a healer, wasn’t she? That decision, as a girl from the upper classes (if not from a paragon of a family; the Greybacks were... odd), had always said to Estelle that she did not think much of herself on the marriage market, that she was out of place in society.

Merlin, if a working woman got married before Estelle did, what would that say?

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