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Charming has a number of lonely plots looking for love. Why not take a gander and see what hijinks your character can get up to? — Kayte ( Submit your own)
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Clare Victoria Basiltree for Christopher Basiltree.
Meddlesome mother, but make her a squib <3
The thought of marrying Cecily Gallivan had occurred to Fitz in the way that the thought of marrying any attractive young lady did: a firm maybe and a hasty step away to more pleasurable topics, like sport or brandy.Fitzroy Prewett in Well. That took a turn.
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May 16th, 1891 - Kirke Flat
@Tybalt Kirke

The last couple days had been a whirlwind of emotions and Elsie still felt like she was in some catastrophic free fall— until she had been able to curl up with Tyb last night, in the same bed, with the same last name, the first night of the rest of their lives heading to bed together. As soon as she was under the covers and curled up into him, everything seemed to have melted away. The stress of the last few days completely dissolving as she drifted off to sleep.

It had been a good night's sleep too, almost too good, the kind you dream through and wake up still dreaming. Of course, Elsie was not so lucky, she woke up nauseous more days that not. Today was no exception. She'd been able to fight it off for a little while, breathing through the waves, but before long there was no avoiding it any longer.

Carefully, but quickly, she tried to sneak out of bed, hair loose and wild, tiptoeing across the room before the urgency rose to a level she couldn't quite stop. She bolted from the room toward the washroom, closing the door a little too loudly behind her as little more than the remnants of last night's dinner threatened to reappear into the wash basin.

This was definitely the worst part.

At least it was Sunday.

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   Tybalt Kirke


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They might not have had a big wedding party or the luxury of a honeymoon (never mind having no time to plan it or Elsie’s recent brush with the shipwreck, Tyb clearly wasn’t going anywhere because they really couldn’t afford to take time off work, especially not now) but at least they were actually married, and at least they had this.

A place all to themselves; the luxury of falling asleep in the same bed; waking up to her warm body right next to him in the morn -

Er. Half-awake, he shifted in place, positive that she had been closer than that. Eventually he heard the click of the door and fully opened an eye, suspecting that it was still early and knowing that it was Sunday and sure that the plan (unspoken as it had been, but one which Tyb had presumed was obvious) was for a lazy morning nestled in bed... together.

He grumbled into the pillow, because if Elsie was getting up to do things then he couldn’t just leave her to it without feeling a little guilty, but he had only just raised his head when he heard the distinct sound of retching. Shit, what? Tyb scrambled up much faster than he’d planned to and stumbled towards the door she’d closed after her, bleary-eyed and a little bit afraid. “Els -?” he started, knocking uncertainly. What was this, all the stress of the move or the last few days or -? “Are you alright?”
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Elsie wished she had thought to grab her wand from the nightstand, but in her haste to be quick and quiet, it hadn't crossed her mind until now.

Slumping down to the floor, sitting with her back against the door, head tilted up as if gravity would help in this situation, she hoped this would pass quickly. The last thing she wanted to do was spend all day feeling like this when she should be curled up in bed with her husband. She wanted to enjoy this lazy morning for Merlin's sake!

Breathing through another wave, she froze when Tyb's hesitant knock came at the door. A blush graced her cheeks instantly— how embarrassing! Not only that, but she felt guilty for waking him up. "I'm sorry, I tried to be quiet." She sighed softly; there really was no way to vomit quietly, but she had tried to sneak out as softly as she could. "I'll be alright, it passes after a little while." Usually.



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He leant sideways against the door, wondering whether he was better off giving Elsie her privacy or going in to check on her. This was... weirdly new, for them. The last time they’d lived together semi-permanently had been Hogwarts, and this was a far cry from anything that had happened in the Gryffindor Common Room.

“Don’t worry,” he protested, at her apology, trying to wave it off as best he could without her able to see him. “It’s fine.” Tybalt was chewing on his bottom lip, though, because although he didn’t mind being woken up it still wasn’t fine if she wasn’t well, and although he’d spent an odd morning like this after drinking too much the night before, he wasn’t - a healer, didn’t know what this could be, wasn’t sure how to help.

Elsie seemed to have expected it, though - it passes after a little while, she’d just said - so, what, this was a regular occurrence? Her every day? Tybalt pulled a grimacing face to himself, though it would do no one any good. “So this has happened... before?” Okay, well, that would be less than ideal, but at least hopefully that meant she wasn’t - dying, or anything.
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Elsie whimpered as another bout of dry heaves overcame her, but nothing came up. Ugh, she needed something to settle her stomach, but she needed to clean up this mess and try not to worry Tyb too much.

Hunched over, she ran her hands over her face and brushed her hair out of the way, weaving it into a quick plait so that it was out of her face. Fortunately she'd left as ribbon on here last night to tie it off with. It was so very strange having this space to themselves, but she really enjoyed it. Even though it was temporary, Elsie felt at home wherever it was Tyb happened to be, so at least she had that going for her.

After another few deep breaths, Elsie was able to focus again on what it was Tyb said. She chuckled weakly. "Has been for a few weeks now," He was blissfully unaware of the symptoms of pregnancy and though she thought he'd be better off in the dark, she explained anyway. "It's common until about halfway through, according to everything I've read." Merlin she hoped it went away soon, this was brutal. Not to mention the bone-deep exhaustion and weird food aversions.

"Would you mind getting my wand from the nightstand?" She asked quietly, once was was sure she wasn't going to dry heave again.



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“You’re joking,” he breathed, wincing; but clearly she was not. In any other circumstance, he might have grinned at according to everything I’d read, because of course she had done her research; she’d probably gone through the library with a fine-tooth comb to feel prepared. But - well, Tybalt wasn’t certain either of them felt anything close to prepared yet, and besides, it was difficult to muster a smile when apparently dry heaving in the morning was just a common side effect.

(Christ, what else usually happened during a pregnancy? Tyb had been worried about how soon the baby was coming, a few days ago; suddenly now he found himself a little apprehensive of how long the pregnancy part was going to be.)

But the enormity of things he didn’t know was too vast a subject to deal with not-two-minutes out of bed in the morning, so Tyb was almost grateful for her request. “‘Course,” he said quickly, darting back to get her wand for her. Once he had, he nudged the door open tentatively to pass it to her, though did not much want to retreat and leave her alone either. He felt like that would... set a bad precedent, somehow. And he didn’t want to fail at marriage (and especially not less than twenty-four hours into it). “Can I get anything else that’ll help?”
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Elsie wished she was kidding, but there wasn't much to be done about it. She was getting a handle on what helped, so at least she could get it to pass soon. She'd made it to her feet and had gotten a cloth to wash her face with when he nudged open the door. Elsie realized she probably looked frightful and tried to smooth down some of her fly-away hairs. It was instinct, though she knew on some level he didn't care.

Gently, she took her wand and peeked at him through the gap with a soft smile. "Thank you," She could take care of this mess and now that her stomach was woefully empty, she could go make some tea and maybe some toast to really settle everything down. "Oh—" She considered asking him to put the kettle on briefly, but dismissed it quickly. "No, I'm okay, I'll clean up in here and then I'll make some tea. It usually helps. You go back to bed," Elsie was well aware he was not naturally an early bird like she was. "I don't want to be a pest." She added quietly, more to herself.

Their marriage was unfortunately already off to a rocky start simply due to the nature of their rushed nuptials; she would hate to be too much of a nuisance less than twenty-four hours in.

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He was a little relieved the moment he actually saw her, and Elsie was on her feet, at the very least. He surveyed her with a tinge of worry, mostly satisfied that she was not going to keel over if she closed the door again. And she might not look her best, but he had known her far too long to care about that and she still looked awfully cute with her wispy morning hair and there was that happy burst of novelty in seeing her here at all (- and if anyone had bedhead problems, it was probably him).

So Tyb leant on the doorframe for a moment and hummed his agreement at her plan, glad she had one, but he rolled his eyes expressly for her benefit at don’t want to be a pest. “Elsie Kirke,” he said, mock sternly - and nearly tripped himself up on his tongue, so used as he was to saying Elsie Beauregard - “you’re my wife.” She was probably too preoccupied to feel the dramatic heft of this, Tybalt considered, but he was alive to it, even half-awake and bleary-eyed this early in the morning. “I think I can make you tea. Meet you in the kitchen, then?” His intonation might have gone up at the end in expectation, but he wasn’t really asking. By the time she’d cleaned up he’d have had time to put the kettle on, whether she liked it or not.

Besides, there was no way he could go back to bed or relax knowing she felt this terrible. And he was up now, so he might as well eat breakfast too.
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Elsie smiled sheepishly as Tyb rolled his eyes at her, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't thoroughly enjoy the sound of what he had to say next. It was still a little bit of a shock, a surname half the length of her maiden name, and barely hers at that, but still, she liked the way it sounded when he said it. Not to mention the word wife still gave her a little warm fuzzy feeling.

"Alright," She conceded softly, blushing a little and still smiling. He hadn't really given her a choice, but she was thankful nevertheless. "I'll just be a few minutes." Elsie assured him as she turned to take her wand to clean everything up. It didn't take long, magic was a wonderful thing, but she took a moment to fix a few flyaway hairs in the looking glass and splash a little cold water on her face.

With that settled, Elsie pulled her a new dressing gown in a pretty blue from the wardrobe. Where Adella had managed to get it on such short notice Elsie would never know, but her sister had insisted it was something she needed, among a few more personal articles of clothing Elsie was decidedly not brave enough to wear just yet. It was funny to see her dresses in there next to Tyb's clothes, but she enjoyed it immensely. Gently she ran her fingers along the fabrics before closing it up and putting on the dressing gown.

Quietly she padded down the hall, past the sitting room where most of her books were currently still in boxes. Once in the kitchen, she snuck up behind Tyb and wrapped her arms around his middle. "Thank you."



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