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Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1895. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.

Where will you fall?

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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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#1
March 8th, 1891 — Crouch Home, Swallowbury

It had taken Ben a few days to emotionally recover from his foray into the Fisk house, after meeting Elliott. It had been exhilarating, but — well, confusing, to say the least. Elliott was an amazing child, honestly — and Ben thought that was genuinely true, not just something that he thought because he was being sentimental about it, but who was really to say. The fact that he seemed so incredible made it all the harder to realize how much he was going to miss, only being able to see him occasionally — and probably only for a little while, until it was no longer feasible to keep things a secret. He was taking some solace in the fact that Elliott didn't need him — he had two parents, both of whom apparently loved him very much and would be there to do all of the things that Ben wouldn't be able to.

He felt... good about that, or he was trying to. He was feeling conflicted, honestly, but generally positive. One thing he was not conflicted on was his desire to patch things up with Melody; seeing Elliott had made that so much clearer than it had been before. Sitting on the floor with Elliott and his mother, Ben kept having flashes of feeling — that this was what it would be like, to have a family.

He wasn't going to lose Melody. She was his family. She was carrying his child. They were going to make it through this, and someday, on the other side of it, the three of them would be sitting on the living room floor just like he'd been the other day, but without that shadow of things he'd never get to do lingering over him — they would be a real family, with everything that entailed.

She hadn't come down for dinner, but that wasn't news; she didn't, usually, these days. Rather than eating alone again, Ben had dished up two plates and carried them carefully up to her room, where he tentatively knocked on the door.

"Hey," he called, waiting for her to open it — only because he couldn't manage the handle with both plates, otherwise he would have just tried to come in. "Feeling okay?"

Melody Crouch



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#2
Pregnancy was, in short, awful. Most days, Melody was barely able to stomach even the blandest of broths, as the very thought of food was enough to set off another episode (as she'd come to refer to them as) that lasted all day. Her lack of nutrition was evident all across her body, from her gaunt cheeks to her bony wrists. Prominent dark circles seemed to stretch from her eyes down to her nose. (An exaggeration, of course, but were she as pale as society would prefer her to be Melody was convinced she'd better resemble a ghost than a living being.)

The anti-nausea potions procured a few days ago helped temporarily enough for her to be able to eat at least one meal a day. Throughout the past month of suffering her already small stomach had shrunken to that of a bird's, so she rarely had the appetite for more than a few bites anyway. She was hopeful the potions would ease some of her nausea enough that she would at least be able to sleep and have one solid meal a day, otherwise Melody didn't know if she could survive another seven months of this.

Her morning and afternoon went as they typically did, now, with her buried under her blankets unable to move without the nausea rising. And, although she likely could have made it downstairs for dinner with the potion's effects finally kicking in, she simply didn't have the energy to. Well, that and she was avoiding Ben as much as he was avoiding her.

(His love confession still haunted her, nearly six weeks later. And, since she had nothing but time to dwell on her regrets and misery, she grew more convinced by the day that he hadn't meant it. It was a strategic move designed to keep her from emotionally leaving their relationship. It was a manipulation, a farce. Otherwise, why was he not visiting her daily? Why was he not making true on his determination to prove it to her? Ben loved his family above all, she knew — his children included. Melody hadn't ever made it to that rank, nor did she believe she ever would. But, somehow or another, they'd find a way to manage a show for their child. A lifetime of pretending.

Just what neither of them wanted.)

She moved slowly to open the door, her hair a tangled mess, her robe tied but slipping from her bony shoulder. "Okay enough, I guess." Melody replied softly. Her appearance would be more telling than her words could ever be. "Sorry it's a mess in here..."

Pregnancy stamp: 11 weeks


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#3
Well, if she was pretending to be sick, she was certainly committed to it. Her room was a disaster. The air was stale and smelled like sweat and must. She had circles under her eyes. All of that, though, could just as easily have been a symptom of depression as of a physical illness. At the end of the day, he was worried about both — sometimes more about one than the other, depending on his mood, but neither was ever very far from his mind. (Either option had the potential to turn into something the baby wouldn't survive, though he tried not to think that way).

"Are you feeling up for dinner?" he asked, nodding towards the plates he was carrying. "I thought maybe we could eat together. Talk."



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#4
Her stomach lurched at the thought of consuming anything on (what she presumed to be) Ben's plate. The smell alone had her taking a step back from the door to try and save herself from succumbing to another episode. However, her plate had but a cup of broth and toast. The toast was something she was likely to regret (anything outside of a liquid hurt after weeks of this) but she had to at least try. If not for herself than for her child.

"Sure," she agreed with only the smallest hint of reluctance. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to Ben, but rather that she didn't want to inevitably be sick in front of him. There were certain lines and boundaries to be maintained still, regardless of how much she wished someone would just hold her. "Do you mind eating at the vanity? The roast ..." Melody didn't blame the cook for still cooking delicious meals for Ben, she just wished he hadn't brought it upstairs with him. Gently, she reached for her plate and placed it carefully on the side of her bed before sitting. A tray would've helped significantly, but oh well.


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beautiful set by mj
#5
"Uh — sure," Ben agreed, moving to the seat she'd indicated. This wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind, talking to her from across the room with two different plates of food set in front of them, but at this point he supposed he'd have to take what he could get. At least they were in the same room. She hadn't shut the door in his face. That was progress, however slight, from the day after he'd told her he'd loved her. He'd had to physically hold the door open during their next conversation to get across everything he wanted to say, before she shut him out.

"Are the, uhm — the potions helping any?" he asked. He didn't really know what to say. It would have been stupid to ask how her day had been, or anything like that, when he knew she hadn't left the room. What he wanted to say was I love you, and I want to try and make this work, I mean it, but she didn't want to hear that. He'd have to show it to her, first, before she'd be ready to hear it. So that was what this was about: being here, trying to show it, until she was ready to hear it.



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#6
She reached for the cup of broth and took a moment to appreciate holding something warm in her hands. A chill had crept into her room as of late, that or it was another sign of malnourishment, but Melody was nearly always cold.

"Some. They don't provide instantaneous relief though. If I take it in the morning I'm still ... it lasts throughout the afternoon." Melody answered honestly, if only so they didn't have to dwell on the uncomfortable subject. Also, he was less likely to ask a barrage of questions which meant they'd be able to part ways sooner. "It's better than no relief at all."


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beautiful set by mj
#7
Ben watched her with a frown. She was holding the broth between her hands, but she hadn't made any move to have some yet. No wonder she looked so awful, if she wasn't eating. Something had to be wrong with her, he thought... more wrong than just the casual nausea that the healer had said was common in the early stages of pregnancy. Whether that was something to do with her body or with him, though, he still wasn't sure. He didn't think she was doing this on purpose — not, anyway, now that he was actually up in her room and seeing her (the thought had crossed his mind a few times during the earlier days, when she had just been refusing to come downstairs and she still sort of looked okay). But even if this wasn't intentional, it might still be his fault. If she'd given up on him, given up on them, given up on — well, given up on everything, then maybe that was why she wasn't eating. And if she wasn't eating, that could be why she wasn't ever feeling up for anything.

"Are you sleeping okay?" he asked, a vein of concern running through his tone.



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#8
"It depends on the day." If it wasn't her sickness that kept her awake it was her anxiety that something would happen to the baby as a result. Lucy was in better health than she when her time came and although the baby lived he was impossibly small. Smaller than any baby ought to be. Should she be deprived of nutrients her entire pregnancy, then her baby would likely be even smaller. Even less likely to survive.

Her stomach churned.

Swallowing down a mouthful of bile, Melody discarded the broth onto her nightstand. Its provided warmth wasn't worth spilling it all across her already dirty carpet. "Was there something you wished to discuss?" She asked quietly.


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beautiful set by mj
#9
She wanted him to leave. That was what she was trying to get at, he was sure, with her question. Say what you want to say, hurry it up, and then get out. It was understandable, given everything that had happened between the two of them, but it was disheartening all the same. Ben's shoulders sagged slightly and his gaze sank to his knees.

"I'm just worried," he admitted. He didn't bother to specify — about her, about the baby, about their relationship, about the future — because they were all equally true.



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#10
"Me too," she admitted honestly. Never before had she been this sick, nor did she know of many others who were like this throughout pregnancy. "I'm scared, too."


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beautiful set by mj
#11
Her admission sent a surge of anxiety through him. He hadn't expected that. Melody was supposed to be the one who knew what was going on, with all of this. The healer had said nausea was normal, and Ben had just taken him at his word because he didn't know enough to argue. This was just... the mysterious process of pregnancy, he supposed, compounded by the fact that Melody hated him and didn't have the will to get out of bed in the morning. If she was scared, though, that was... something else. She was supposed to be the one who knew how to get through this, with some sort of maternal instinct or with her knowledge of her own body and her own health, and if she was scared, that meant it was up to him.

"It's — it's gonna be okay," he said, wishing the confidence he pushed into his voice was genuine. "We're gonna get through this. I'll get a sleeping potion somewhere, so you can get your strength back up. Then you'll be able to eat more," he said, as though he knew anything about this at all. It sounded like it would work, but Ben's knowledge of healing was restricted to basic first aid that he'd practiced years ago while in the field as a cursebreaker. He didn't know how to deal with illness. He didn't know how to get someone to eat if they couldn't, or what was more important — that or sleep.

"We'll be okay," he said again, willing them both to believe it.



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#12
Sleep wasn't her issue so much as the nausea was, but at this point Melody would accept any relief provided. "Okay," she agreed softly. Regardless of whether or not it made her eat more, Melody could use a decent night's rest regardless. "Being able to eat more would help." Sometimes, Melody felt as though she was starving only to stomach three bites before being sick again. It was a miserable existence.

His final declaration had her shifting on the bed to better look at him. "Did you mean it?" She asked after a minute of silence. Ben had to know what she meant by it, just as he had to realize a month of near silence between them didn't prove his claims.


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beautiful set by mj
#13
Her agreeing was good. It gave him a little bit more confidence in his plan, which was good. He'd been trying to look and sound confident already, but if Melody thought this would work he could actually hold himself up a little straighter as he went about it. His brain was already starting to figure out how he would manage it — most of his experience buying potion was under-the-table, from vendors who were a little off the beaten path, and that didn't sound like the right answer here, so he'd need to figure out where normal people went to get these things. Did the apothecary sell potions, or only ingredients? If they sold potions, were they any good? He wanted something that would actually work, obviously. He needed Melody to have faith in him, so he needed this to work.

He'd been too distracted thinking this through to register her question when she finally asked it. "Mean what?" he said, though of course as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew.



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#14
Melody looked sharply from him. Mean what? Was she to believe he shouldn't have said it at all, then? Was it a heat of the moment slip that he hadn't intended? Bile rose in her throat, the seventh time that day, and she forcibly swallowed it back down. He hadn't meant it then, and she shouldn't have asked.

"Nothing, it's fine." She answered.

#15
"No, no," Ben said quickly, but obviously not quickly enough to have headed this off. "I did. I meant it. I promise."

Not that she would believe that now; she was giving him a look like he'd just crawled up out of the sewage gutter, or something. If she'd been trying to get him to leave before, she was certainly done with him now.



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#16
She wasn't looking at him, refused to actually. Once again, his promise came too late, allowing the doubts and insecurities to overwhelm any comfort it might have provided. Her mother said she wasn't supposed to chase him, but Melody didn't know what else to do. It was all she had done for years, after all.

Frowning, she reached for her crumpled blanket and pulled it across her lap. If she wasn't meant to chase him then her next words should be a simple agreement. As though it didn't matter either way what his answer was. She tried to summon the words, too, tried to find an easy agreement to replace her frown.

She couldn't.

"Why ..." Why did you tell Arthur about the potions? Why haven't you made more of an effort this last month? Why don't I believe you? Melody's curls fell around her shoulders, effectively hiding her face from him. "Okay." She agreed again instead, unable to trust he would offer the truth with any of her asks.


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