[Dalemain] An Unexpected Reunion

June 30th 2002

A blustery wind hit Pyxis as he sat in a carriage, which was leading him to the ancestral home of his paternal line. The sun shone brightly above him, but the strong wind left a chill in the air. Pyxis had forgotten just how cold Britain could be, even in the summer months. Ordinarily, he would have apparated directly into the grand manor, his Abercrombie blood allowing him to easily bypass the ancient wards protecting the grand Estate, but after seven months in mainland Europe and beyond he was feeling unusually sentimental. Growing up, there had been nothing more awe inspiring than the majestic sight of Dalemain appearing in the distance during his visits to the ancient estate. Pyxis felt it was only fitting that his homecoming involved taking the long route. Besides, it gave him time to collect his thoughts before reuniting with Farren.

The Abercrombie heiress had become an unexpected source of turmoil for the Hartridge heir. Before his departure from Britain they’d managed to establish a cordial, one may even argue friendly rapport. They’d been forced to spend a lot of time together due to sharing the seemingly impossible goal of stopping the ministry from seizing all power yielded by the pureblood elite and promoting the preservation of pureblood values and culture. They’d both shared the belief that if the latter was allowed to go unchecked the wizarding world would fall into complete and utter chaos. Already a shocking number of their peers were casting aside traditional wizarding garments for jeans and heaven forbid those shirts with random muggle band names on the front. During their time together he’d gone from regarding Farren as a silly little girl who was prone to frivolous little cries for attention, her engagement to O’Dwyer sprung to mind, to respecting her keen wit and graceful displays of cunning.

However, due to the largely professional nature of their relationship, Pyxis hadn’t expected to feel much beyond a pang of guilt for leaving her to continue the task alone. Therefore, he had been quite surprised to find himself thinking of her often. During meetings with the Curse breakers assigned to help him end the Hartridge curse he’d find himself comparing the scent of their perfumes to the fragrance favoured by Farren, when he came across a particularly enthralling sight he’d find himself wishing the Abercrombie heiress was there to share it with him, and during discussions about the next step of their Curse Breaking enterprise he’d often wonder what Farren would have suggested had she been present. Pyxis had missed her more than his own parents, which was not that surprising, and his younger sister Cordelia, which had been a little more surprising. The former Deatheater had tried to maintain contact, but due to how long it took owls to fly internationally and their genuinely busy schedules it hadn’t amounted to more than a letter or two per month. Still that was more contact than anyone other than his grand father had received. Even then his letters to the Hartridge patriarch had been largely formal missives informing him of the latest attempts to break the curse.

Pyxis had grown up with what he considered fairly realistic expectations. He would attend Hogwarts and graduate with top grades along with the prestige that came with being head boy, he would best serve the family’s interests be it through gaining a respectable job in the ministry or working behind the scenes, and like his parents before him he would enter into a loveless but mutually beneficial marriage arranged by his parents. While circumstances had changed the path his life would follow he was only now considering something different for his marriage. Were these thoughts and feeling he’d been having what others called love? And if they were, did Farren even feel the same way about him? Sadly, even if she had he doubted this would still be the case. Pyxis had been gone seven months. He didn’t expect her to sit around waiting on his return especially since he had given no indication that his feelings extended beyond the respect due a powerful ally and the heir of his paternal line. Pyxis imagined she had moved on (even if she had felt anything in the first place) and he would respect that.

Nonetheless he wanted to make their reunion special. It was for that reason he’d summoned an Abercrombie elf early in the morning and relayed a strict set of instructions. They were to cook Lady Farren’s favourite dinner and they were to place a stunning bouquet of Dahlias at the centre of the table. He knew them to be Farren’s favourite flower. Most importantly they’d been ordered to leave the news of his return a secret. Pyxis knew that their loyalty to Farren came before their loyalty to him. Therefore, they’d be unable to lie if she directly enquired about his return, but Pyxis found the chances of that slim. He’d also commissioned a jeweller to create a beautiful emerald necklace and a matching pair of ear rings. Pyxis had instantly thought of Farren upon spotting the emerald while shopping a month previous.

It was then he was drawn out of his thoughts by the sudden halt of the carriage. The Hartridge stepped out of it gracefully and proceeded to enter Dalemain with purposeful strides. Pyxis offered nods of acknowledgement to the staff as they welcomed him back, but he did not stop to chat, as he did not want to risk Farren arriving at the dining hall before him. After some time he arrived at the mercifully empty hall. The thirty year old spent some time examining the flowers the house elves had procured before deciding they were acceptable. Moments after he took a seat the sound of someone entering the hall could be heard. “Farren, I’ve missed you” he offered in a sincere tone. “And can I just say you look beautiful?” The words were offered in a smooth tone, which hid how nervous he was about her reaction to his return.

@Farren Abercrombie

Sundays were always rather dull and relaxing for Farren. She had no tutoring, no meetings, and no agenda to be beholden to. She’d spent almost her whole day out on the estate riding her beloved gelding, Tybalt. It was clear and warm for the Lake District so she’d packed a saddle bag with a blanket, a lunch, and a novel and left after breakfast. In the late afternoon she’d returned and dropped the horse off with the stable boy before retiring to her rooms.

After a long hot bubble bath her maid had dried and styled her long brunette hair in her usual gentle loose curls. Miss Sedley carefully dressed her mistress in the ivory summer dress Farren had selected after her bath. As Farren applied some simple make up the maid put on her usual diamond stud earrings and set out a simple pair of low high heels. Once fully made up and suited up Farren stood in front of the gilded three way mirror in her room admiring herself as her maid cleaned up the vanity. “Is Grandfather coming to dinner tonight? I thought he was in Scotland all day?” Farren asked absently as she shifted to inspect herself from another angle.

“I’m not sure my Lady,” the maid said glancing up at her nervously, “But you should go down for dinner soon. I know the elves were cooking all afternoon while riding.”

Farren glanced at the small gold clock on her bedside table, almost 6:30PM already, she noted. “Yes, well I suppose I will head down now. I suspect Grandfather is already waiting. If you would go to the library and get the next novel on my list for tonight while we eat,” she instructed as she moved to the vanity and spritzed herself with perfume. The maid excused herself and Farren followed behind her out into the marble hallway heading towards the main stairs on the far end.

Dinner was always served in the family dinning room at the back of the first floor. It was considerably less pretentious than the formal dinning room and comfortably sat eight or uncomfortably ten, not that they ever needed that many seats. As usual a house elf stood at attention at the door of the room. All the Dalemain elves wore the same uniform, a grey cotton sack with arm holes and a hole for the head, the family crest embroidered in silver on the left breast. “Mistress Farren! Welcome to dinner!” the elf, Beemer, cried out with abnormal excitement. Pausing before the door Farren eyed the elf with suspicion, “Yes…well…open the door then,” she said confused by the elf’s excitement and their forgetfulness at why they were actually stationed here. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Of course!” Beemer chimed as he reached up and opened the door, bowing low as Farren passed him into the dinning room.

As soon as she passed through the door she stopped in her tracks. The room was sparkling with the sunset light through the window and the flicker of candles in the overhead chandelier. On the table was a huge arrangement of purple and white dahlias, her favorite flower. Sitting at the head of the table was perhaps one of the last people she’d expected to see, her cousin, Pyxis. It wasn’t as if someone who had disappeared with hardly a word for seven months frequently showed up for dinner without announcement. It was so odd seeing him there, he looked….abnormally healthy. She assumed as such that the blood curse he’d been plagued by had been broken and the time away on the continent had done him a great deal of good. He looked, well, very handsome sitting there next to the flowers smiling at her.

Behind her the house elf pushed the door shut, the loud click of the latch and bump of the door jolting her slightly. “Pyxis!” she managed still somewhat confused by the surprise. He’d missed her? Whatever did he mean? Miss her like he missed Cordie? Or was he insinuating something else? He immediately then told her she looked beautiful and her confusion rebounded on itself. Beautiful? Missed her? These weren’t things Pyxis said to her. Sure, they’d been spending more and more time together on little projects before he left. Yes, they always had fun together doing so but had it all meant something she didn’t  realize?

Then it dawned on her that despite this flattery he had just up and left without saying a proper good bye and in 7 months she’d hardly heard from him apart from no more than four letters. She’d been disappointed in him. He’d abandon her mid project. The weeks after he left she’d felt a gaping loneliness in her daily work. Her brow furrowed as she processed the confusion and confliction. “But what are you doing here?” she asked finally walking to the table to stand beside him. “Did you break the curse? Are you back for good?” She glanced at the flowers then back at him, “Did you plan all of this? Is something else going on?” Perhaps it wasn’t the warm welcome he’d been hoping for but as usual Farren not one for formalities with people in her inner circle. No, if Pyxis was going to suddenly reappear in her life as if everything was peachy he better fully explain himself.

It was good to hear the sound of her voice. Even if the words were spoken with more suspicion than excitement. The Hartridge heir allowed himself to soak in the sight of her, as he half listened to the questions posed. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. The diamond studs and the summer dress added to the Heiress’ regal air and highlighted her natural beauty. Pyxis had forgotten what it was like to be in the presence of a lady. The last seven months had been spent in the company of men, or women whose dress style and mannerisms made them practically indistinguishable from the men surrounding them. His nose wrinkled at the thought. The Abercrombie male briefly shook his head to empty his mind of such thoughts. Farren deserved his full attention. She did not deserve to be dealing with him leering like a common lout.

A warm smile suddenly graced the handsome male’s features. It was a rarely seen smile, which lit up his handsome features. It was a complete contrast to the cold smirk he usually bore when dealing with people. Pyxis had been trained from a young age to never show emotion to anyone he didn’t trust. “I broke it” he confirmed in a satisfied tone. It hadn’t been an easy seven months. Many a night had been spent sleeping in the mud of overgrown forests or the hard stone of ancient wizarding temples. He’d been forced to help deal with the nasty aftereffects of several powerful wards or stay awake until the point of physical exhaustion. If Pyxis had simply been the pampered weakling many saw the aristocracy as he’d have broken. However, both Azkaban and his time working for the Dark Lord had helped to ensure he was made of tougher stuff than that.

“I owe you an apology” the words were spoken in a soft, barely audible tone. It went against every instinct to make the admission. Hartridge men were trained to carry themselves with a surety that made the idea of admitting to mistakes laughable. However, Pyxis realised this was one of those rare occasions where admitting culpability was the wisest course of action. “When I learnt of the old blood curse I was forced to take decisive action to eradicate the threat to the Hartridge line” that he would offer no apologies for and he liked to think Farren wouldn’t expect one. As the Heiress of a bloodline herself she’d understand the importance of protecting ones bloodline better than anyone. In fact, she likely understood it better than he did since she’d been raised as the Abercrombie heir from birth, as opposed to Pyxis who had only become the Hartridge heir in recent years.

“However, this forced me to break a promise to you. I made a promise to work by your side as we fought against the Ministry’s unjust attempts to wrench power from the elite of our society and demolish our culture. Instead I left you to fight the battle alone with very little warning and for that I apologise.” The words were spoken calmly. The Hartridge heir stepped closer to the Abercrombie heiress as he spoke. “I know that arranging for the elves to serve your favourite meal…” It was then said meal appeared on the table before them. The elves, slippery little creatures that they were, had likely been listening to their conversation. “And getting a bouquet of your favourite flowers are tawdry offerings in light of my recent actions, but I wanted tonight to be special to you, to show that I am willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust once more.”

It was then, Pyxis, being the gentleman that he was held a chair for her, at the table. It was up to Farren what happened next. She could join him for a civilised discussion or banish him from the grand estate entirely. The Hartridge heir hoped she would opt for the former, but he would respect her decision if she chose the latter.