December 27th, 1886 — Oakshire Hall

Tiberius knew that Antigone wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea of being placed under an Unbreakable Vow. In her shoes, he wouldn't have been thrilled, either. In his view, though, she had proven herself so untrustworthy that there simply weren't any good alternatives that ensured she didn't do anything else to impinge the honor of the Lestranges. They had enough problems on their own--Cassius and his disgusting secret, their cousin Arthur Pettigrew and his highly public failures, the disowned and disgraced Linaeve and the now deceased Noelle--without someone who had married in to the name adding any more. Tiberius had too much respect for his family to ever be the cause of any grief or misfortune for them, and he considered his wife more or less an extension of himself. She was his property, after all, and if he couldn't tame her in the usual ways, it was up to him to find some other way to get her under control.

That being said, he didn't relish the idea of putting her in a constant state of danger. That was why he'd taken such pains with the terms of the Vow; he could have insisted on some impossible thing, like making her promise to love him, but Tiberius had no illusions that she'd be able to keep breathing even five minutes later if he made her swear to something so unreasonable.

No, the terms of the Vow were not designed with him in mind--though he could easily have added something in to force her to be a little more compliant in the bedroom, for instance--but rather, for the sake of the family and their reputation. He didn't care what she said or did, as he'd always maintained, as long as everyone outside of the family viewed them as a normal, non-gossip-worthy couple. Besides, if he really wanted to change the way she acted around him, there was always the Imperius Curse.

Trying to strike a balance between what he thought Antigone was capable of and what the Lestranges deserved, Tiberius had drawn up a list of tenants for the Unbreakable Vow. He could have simply pressed forward with them, but after their... well, somewhat less than hostile meeting the other day, Tiberius felt as though perhaps it might be of some value to seek her input. With this intention, he sent a servant to fetch her down to his study, for their first conversation since she'd returned home on Christmas. When she had come in and the servant had closed the door behind her, Tiberius put a piece of parchment down on the desk across from him, which contained a list in neat, legible script:

1) Do not leave the country without prior approval.
2) Do not begin any extramarital romantic trysts.
3) Do not use any unladylike magic in a public setting, except in self-defense.
4) Inform me of any illegal activities or dark magic use.
5) Never publicly speak ill of a Lestrange or our close relations.

Keeping a steady eye on his wife, Tiberius asked dryly, "Does anything on that list seem unreasonable, or otherwise likely to result in your untimely death?"

  

Over the last two days, Tig hadn't done much of anything besides eat, sleep, catch up on the bombardment of mail she had received from - of all people - Ellory Pendergast, and mope. How long would she have until he brought up the Vow again? Was there anything left she could possibly do to change his mind? Besides begging and making promises she may or may not be able to stick to, she couldn't think of anything.

Just as she was starting to wonder if he'd changed his mind, she was summoned. For lack knowing any other reason why he might ask for her at present, she had to think it was to do with the Unbreakable Vow. Reluctantly, Tig made her way to his study, dreading what she was about to experience. She arrived and he shoved some parchment her way which she realized before she even sat down to read, proved she was right in her suspicions.

Tig frowned as she scrutinized the list intently, keeping in mind that her survival may depend on it. She supposed they weren't the horrific terms she was expecting from him, but she had done some quick snooping on Unbreakable Vows the day before and so she knew that a set of seemingly relaxed terms might very well be more deadly than they seemed. "'Unladylike' is rather subjective, don't you think? I might shrink something to fit in a pocket and drop dead. What if I take part in a dueling tournament? Does 'public' mean everywhere but this house, or does public count as everywhere but my own bedroom?" Perhaps if she could pick enough holes and make him doubt the safety of it, he'd change his mind or delay long enough to then change his mind. "And are you asking me to inform you before or after I do something illegal? What if I break a law without realizing? How long do I have to tell you about it before I die? What if someone abducts me? Does going to Hogsmeade count as going to another country as it's in Scotland?" She finally fell silent and pursed her lips to hide how pleased she was with herself.

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Tiberius had expected her to be combative, so her barrage of questions didn't surprise or really even phase him. She hadn't raised anything that was, in his mind, insurmountable. Her concerns weren't entirely irrational, however, so he knew he needed to address them.

"Public is anywhere that you might be seen or overheard by the sorts of people who would talk. I wouldn't care if you cast Unforgiveable Curses in the parlor, or out on the grounds, or even in my aunt's study, so long as no one was talking about it the next day," he clarified. Would the Vow sense his intention when it was made, or did they need to change the wording to make it more clear? Tiberius hadn't done enough research on the subject to be sure, but he didn't want Antigone dying on a technicality. "And the clause about law-breaking is for your own protection, really. I don't mind what you did on the train--but if something like that were to happen again, I would need to see to the situation myself to ensure it was properly cleaned up and covered," he said sternly. He certainly didn't trust Antigone to be thorough. With a slight smirk, he added, "I could have said don't do anything illegal, but what fun would that be? It's only a problem if you're caught. If you tell me what's happened, I can ensure you never will be."

Her point about the exact definition of unladylike was the most difficult to deal with, so Tiberius chose not to address it for the moment. "Scotland lives under the same Muggle queen, and Hogsmeade under the same Ministry, so I shouldn't think it would be considered a separate country. Though perhaps to be sure you'd do best to tell me where you're going," he said, his tone teasing. A dark smile lit his features for just a moment, then he grew somber again. "Do you have any suggestions for wording you'd like to change? If you're not fond of the subjectivity of the term ladylike, put something in there you prefer," he offered, nodding towards a quill and ink pot that were about in the center of the desk between them.

  

Tig couldn't say she felt entirely reassured. She exhaled loudly and reached for the quill, dipped it in ink and was about to put quill to paper when she stopped. "For all of your legally questionable research and your being an Unspeakable - whatever that really means - I'm surprised you haven't got a better way of doing this. After all, for someone who apparently doesn't want me to drop dead, I'd have thought you'd have tracked down something more suitable, rather than settling for something that will almost certainly kill me sooner or later." She looked back to the parchment, "I suppose since it's not your life on the line..." She crossed out the word 'unladylike' and then realized she had no idea what to replace it with.

Tig sighed. Again. "Can't you be satisfied with my word? So my death wouldn't be immediate, but at least I wouldn't drop dead for transfiguring a teapot into a vase!" Why she would want to do that, she didn't know but it had been the first thing to pop into her head. She suddenly felt as though she'd woken up in a strangely lucid nightmare, except she knew it was real and she couldn't just wake up to escape it.

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Tiberius frowned, musing over what she'd said. He clearly couldn't just be 'satisfied' with her word; he'd tried trusting her already, for their entire marriage, and she had seemingly jumped through hoops to disappoint him, first with the tea party rumors, then with her behavior at home, and finally with her little escapade around Europe. They'd been married over a year, and Tiberius was no closer to understanding his wife than he had been on the day they married, but if he had learned anything about her, it was that she was impulsive and could not be trusted.

But the definition of 'unladylike' was perhaps a bit too nebulous. He'd either have to refine that one, or get rid of it. He didn't relish the idea of doing the latter, because that seemed the clause that Antigone was most likely to slip up on, by cursing Ellory Pendergast or reacting in some ill-advised, rash manner when she perceived a slight. But perhaps that was something she would grow out of; she was still hardly more than a child, after all.

"Is that the only clause you've an objection to?" he asked pensively. He might be willing to rescind one clause--though if she was going to try and be greedy and bargain for two or three, he'd have to just go back to the drawing board and try and find some less inclusive synonym for unladylike.

  

She looked over the terms and considered them again. Not leaving the country without permission seemed an easy enough one to go along with, at present, the only reason she might want to leave the country unannounced again would be if she was trying to escape his wrath but then he might catch her anyway so it probably cancelled out. The second one was also fairly easy to go along with, though she found his wording amusing. Romantic trysts. She wasn't sure which part was funnier romantic, or trysts. Probably trysts. She figured the latter two were fairly easy to go along with and the wording was straightforward enough.

"Yes, I suppose it is." She felt as though she was agreeing to the whole thing by not objecting to all of them, not that voicing her discontent once more would suddenly result in him changing his mind.

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Tiberius nodded. "Then we'll get rid of that one. On a probationary basis--if you prove that you can't be trusted to use magic responsibly in public, we'll have to readdress the issue. Maybe by taking you wand," he mused. "I don't imagine you'd be so free with your spellcasting if you had to come and check your wand out from me every time you wanted to use it," he pointed out. He assumed Antigone would be horrified at the idea of surrendering her wand to someone else for any length of time, let alone on a semi-permanent basis, so perhaps this threat would be enough to keep her in line.

Holding out his hand for the piece of parchment, Tiberius said matter-of-factly, "My sister, Tatiana, will be the bonder. She'll be here this afternoon to perform the Vows."

  

Just like that he waived the clause. Tig was surprised, but also relieved. His back up threat hardly fazed her for she felt - at present - very confident that she wouldn't be hexing people all over the place. The one person she would particularly like to hex she had been threatened off of anyway.

"This afternoon?!" Worse still, Tatiana. It wasn't like she hadn't expected it to happen soon, but that was really really soon. And Tatiana. She probably knew about everything and would be judging her accordingly. She didn't want her approval, however, so she couldn't say why it bothered her so much.

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"Yes, this afternoon," Tiberius said, leaning over to take the parchment off of the desk where she'd laid it, since she didn't offer it to him. He took a spare quill out of his desk, dipped it in the ink pot, and crossed the offending clause out with one clean line. He'd rewrite them all before his sister arrived, he decided. He wasn't sure what would happen if one had a slight slip of the tongue during the performance of an Unbreakable Vow, but he was willing to bet that Antigone would appreciate if he didn't use her as an experiment to find out.

It was astounding to him that he'd never done one of these before--though really, the requirement to involve two people in order to perform one was enough of an obstacle to make his lack of research in this area make perfect sense. Tiberius didn't tend to involve others in what he was doing, because there were very few people that he trusted--and those he did trust, like his sister, were often busy being sheltered away in finishing schools or, before that, actual school.

Well, he'd have some first hand experience with it soon enough. Hopefully Antigone wouldn't die accidentally. Tiberius checked his watch. "She ought to be here in a few hours, actually. We ought to eat lunch before she arrives," he remarked absently. "Shall we?"

  

Tig had picked at her food, shuffling it around the plate idly while trying to imagine a dozen scenarios in which she might not find herself taking an Unbreakable Vow. Perhaps she wouldn't die prematurely, but would she ever escape the weight of it? Already she felt crushed by the restrictions that were soon to be in place, it wasn't so much what they were, just that they existed and would constantly be there, ready to rob her of her life. How could she ever feel free again?

The tension inside her was growing by the second now that she knew her sister-in-law would be arriving at any moment. Maybe she wouldn't show up. Tig highly doubted she'd be that lucky and it would only see to a delay of the enchantment, but it didn't stop her from ardently hoping.

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Every nerve in her body was abuzz as Tatiana Lestrange flooed into her brother’s home, a thin cloak shielding her dinner dress—for she had come straight from dinner—from the ashes below her feet. There was something so…scandalous about Unbreakable Vows, so illicit, and the young witch found herself almost giddy to be taking part.

It made matters even more exciting still that it was her sister-in-law who was to be bound; Tatiana had felt some measure of jealousy towards the other woman from the day the wedding band was placed upon her finger, and to see Antigone so cowed would be a small comfort.

Antigone Baudelaire may have married Tiberius, but Tatiana’s own presence at the swearing was testament to the sister’s value in his life.

“Tiberius!” she greeted jovially as she stepped from the hearth, the wide, pure smile reserved only for brother and aunt plastered unreservedly on her face. “I do hope I’ve not kept you waiting!”

To her sister-in-law she spared only a glance.

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Tiberius didn't smile often, but his sister's appearance brought one of those rare expressions to his face. "Tatiana," he replied, his tone about as warm as it really could be. "Not a bit, you're punctual as always," he said, moving forward and making a gesture to take her cloak. They were in the downstairs parlor, because this was where the Floo-connected fireplace was (well, here and in his bedroom, but he hardly expected his sister to Floo into his bedroom, no matter what her errand). The study wasn't Floo connected and never would be, at least not as long as Tiberius had some of his more... interesting fields of study and notes secured in there.

"Do you need anything?" he said, making a vague gesture towards the kitchen area, where he was sure at least one servant was lurking within earshot. "Or shall we head up to the study?"

  

Keeping her composure once Tatiana arrived proved immensely difficult for Tig, who was now acutely aware that she had a very limited amount of time left before the vow. As if a potentially fatal spell weren't bad enough, she was quite clearly being snubbed by her sister-in-law. If nothing else gave it away, the contrast in greetings made it abundantly clear, if brief eye contact could even be considered a greeting at all. Worse still was the chummy reception she got from Tiberius. Urgh. He might've been oddly tolerable company in the time they'd spent together since she'd returned, but that was easily forgotten now.

What she'd give to be able to excuse herself to go fume somewhere quietly. Or not so quietly.

What was she? Chopped liver? She could barely keep the sneer off her face. Tig fancied anyone lacking context would think some amicable tea party were about to take place, not a forced Unbreakable Vow. She wondered what their reaction would be if she tried to walk out of the room but didn't dare make a move to actually find out. "It's nice to see you too, Tatiana," she muttered coolly.

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"I see little need to delay the task at hand," she responded as if talking about a dress fitting rather than an Unbreakable Vow, "for there shall be plenty of time for other things once we are complete. I trust you're ready, Antigone?" Tatiana added, addressing the other witch for the first time, the smile the woman received a much less sincere version of the one she wore for her brother.

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Tig was growing more annoyed by th second. "Of course," she replied haughtily. She wasn't ready and she'd never be ready but what else could she say? Why couldn't she have gotten someone like Brynn for a sister-in-law? Tatiana was like Tiberius but female and possibly even more annoying. Tiberius had actually been tolerable ish lately, she had not improved unfortunately.

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Tiberius had started to move towards the stairs even before Antigone responded; he had never been much for small talk. Antigone knew she didn't really have a choice. Even if she'd come up with some excuse to delay, it would only have been for a few minutes, and what was a few minutes, compared to the rest of her life? There wasn't any option to undo the Unbreakable Vow--at least, not one that was more than theoretical, and if there was something that Tiberius knew from experience, it was that theoretical magic tended to have a rather high fatality rate.

The study was set up for them already, and Tiberius moved directly to one of the two armchairs that he'd positioned earlier, taking a seat and waiting for his wife to take the opposite one. Then, reaching out for her hand, Tiberius took it almost gently and held their clasped hands up, away from their lap, so that Tatiana would be able to take her position for the spell. Looking over at Antigone, he offered her a smile--not a smirk, for once, but a genuine smile. That would probably confused her.