[Isle of Mordred] Bite my tongue, bide my time [Christoph]

Over the past four months, Rosaline had found herself under the wing of Christoph Klein. Even with as long as they'd been in contact, she still was not quite sure what to make of him. It was obvious that he was unlike most of the others in their social circle. She still was not sure if it was wise or not to trust him, though she wanted to. He was an excellent dueling instructor, and while her form had never been poor, her dueling skills had definitely shown signs of improvement. He was useful.

Still, she had a lot more to lose now than she had before. Well, to be fair, she had always had a lot to lose. She had been born into a wealthy, influential family after all. She had money and status, and could theoretically lose it. Of course, she was doing all that she could to prevent that. She had to keep her old allies close while she forged new alliances. That was why she and her mother had decided to continue their work as Death Eaters, despite their ongoing betrayal of the cause. The cause had cost them too much to allow it to now cost them their lives. Rosaline was determined to protect herself and her family, specifically her new husband, by any means necessary. Improving her dueling skills was just one of those means. Others would come later. After all, it was often said among muggles and wizards alike that the best offense is a good defense.

Rosaline had instructed her house elf to provide light refreshments for the duration of the lesson. A long, rectangular wooden table with an ornate, dark green tablecloth over it stood against the far wall of their usual practice space in a sizable room just to the left of the entrance hall of the manor. Adjacent to that was another table with a tablecloth that matched the other. This table, however, was much smaller and round with two chairs for seating. The rest of the space was bare aside from the large area rug that covered the space as well as the large fireplace.

As soon as the dark-haired woman had heard a knock at the door, her house elf had hurried along to answer it and Rosaline stood behind Nim with a smile and her hands folded in front of her as she did. She was dressed in her usual garb: a black dress, though floor-length and long-sleeved. While the bodice of the dress hugged her curves, the skirt was much more roomy and featured a not-too-high slit up the side for more ease of movement while maintaining some modesty.

"Hello, Christoph. It's good to see you again." She greeted him, standing aside with her elf to allow him to enter. "There are tea and other refreshments in the practice room, as usual, if you'd like anything at all." She watched him, waiting to observe his response.

@Christoph Klein

Christoph was unsure about Rosaline Bane. On one hand, anything he did for “the cause” seemed contrary to his personal goals, but on the other it felt great to be able to help some young person learn skills he had once poured his heart and soul into. Rosaline was a good student, all things aside. She was intelligent and a quick learner. She wasn’t bad to start with, but there was some room for improvement and he was eager to help her despite himself. There was something odd about her when the topic came up of “the cause.” Some sort of strain, which interested him. Most young people involved were passionate about blood purity and fighting the “good fight.” They wanted glory, power, and acknowledgement. It seemed to Christoph that Rosaline mostly wanted to keep her head down, and that sent up green flags. Perhaps, if she didn’t want to be there, he could help her get out—but why on Earth would she be involved in this if it wasn’t what she wanted?
 
Also, as much as it pained him to admit it, Rosaline seemed friendly enough. She seemed like a nice girl. She was pretty, albeit a bit young for his personal tastes, but she was fierce and driven. He wished there were more girls like her in the world. In fact, there was something about her that reminded him of Leona. She didn’t seem quite as naïve and innocent as his girlfriend, she had some darkness to her that he could see plainly on her face, but he felt a desire to protect her all the same. He was growing soft, maybe. One girl under his protection was enough of a liability, let alone two.
 
He downed a potion before walking up to her door, grimacing at the bitter taste but needing the relief. He was always “on” around Death Eaters, always practicing occlumency. He never knew who could permeate his mind and when he might give up some important information. He could never truly relax, and as such, he needed to potions. They took the edge off a little bit. They weren’t necessarily drugs. They wouldn’t get him “high,” but they were more akin to headache relief. His temples were already throbbing, and it would only get worse. He noticed the difference immediately, then knocked on the door.
 
Her house-elf greeted him and he smiled. Nim was a sweet one, and it seemed Rosaline took care of her well. He had never seen her treat the elf with cruelty or distain. Soon, he saw Rosaline herself and grinned a bit. She always wore dresses. It was very impractical for training, but at least she would be ready regardless of her attire. He had planned a workout regimen for them as well, but had yet to really enforce it. Rose didn’t seem the running type, but endurance was one of the most important parts of dueling, and running was an easy way to improve it. He had felt as though he was slacking in his personal training, having to play the game of chess with Rosaline, Leona, and Luther all at once.
 
He nodded lightly at the offer of tea. “Two sugars.” He said with a light smile. She was used to his order by now, I’m sure. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Nim had already prepared his tea as he liked it. “How have you been since we last spoke, Rosaline? A bit sore after our last session, I’m sure.”

"We remembered." Rosaline offered him reassurance that his beverage would be to his liking. "I have been very well. Thank you. A little sore, yes." A quiet laugh escaped her lips. She had played quidditch when she had been a student at Hogwarts, but that had been the extent of her physical activity. Truly, before she had settled down with Michael, she had been a bit of a party girl. Now she had responsibilities and people who depended on her. That was why she needed to keep Christoph close and well-paid for his help. He was a Death Eater, too, and no matter how charming he seemed she nor Michael could not afford for her to let herself forget that.

Rosaline gestured toward the door to their usual practice space before opening her mouth to speak again. "How have you been?" She found herself genuinely interested in his response, which surprised even herself. "I thought that we could have our tea and catch up before we get started, if that's alright with you? I do so enjoy our conversations, Christoph." That was true, too. In a way, she supposed he reminded her of Iago. He had a similar way about him. They both seemed to carry a burden, though she wasn't sure what the German's might be. Perhaps he required further investigation?

"I trust that everything is to your liking?" She took a seat, her own tea which she now sipped upon prepared to her preference as well. She looked over at him, her green eyes studying his face briefly enough that she hoped that he wouldn't notice her analyzing him. He seemed to have good intentions. Then again, a lot of people could seem like a lot of things. She, herself, seemed harmless to most and yet she had killed nine men in her short life. In truth, all but one of them had been a direct threat to herself or someone she loved dearly. The other had been a muggle, though she had felt that his demise had also been justified given the circumstances of it all. Still, she maintained the image of a rich, influential pureblood woman who had just recently released her own line of beauty potions products in her mother's shop, and who had done PR campaigns on behalf of the Ministry of Magic. To those who didn't know better, she seemed soft and harmless.

For now, she thought it best that Christoph didn't know any better.

Christoph sipped at the tea and smiled. “Fantastic, Nim, as ever. Thank you.” He offered, and turned back to Rosaline. “If you think chatting me up will keep me from running you ragged, you’re sorely mistaken, but we can catch up for a moment if you’d like. I’d like to hear more about how you are doing after our last session.” He offered. “Where are you sore? That will help me know what we need to work on today, no point in working the same muscle groups two sessions in a row.” He sipped his tea a little more, catching her eyes and probing a little, unable to help himself. What was it about this girl that made him so curious? There was something there, some darkness, some sweetness, some… something else. He needed to know if she was friend or foe, and it was easier to do when her guard was down, as it seemed to be now.

“Perhaps you’d rather do wand-work today?” He offered. “I’ve written you an exercise regimen I would like you to follow for the next week, and trust me—I’ll know if you didn’t.” He grinned lightly. “I’ll be happy to do the first few sessions with you.” He offered, to soften the blow. He needed exercise as much as the next person, especially if he wanted to stay physically sharp. He was thickly-built, muscular. He had not come across this physique be accident but rather through hard work and perseverance. He was intimidating to look at, he knew, and was proud of his ability to fight with wands, words, weapons, and fists. Not many could say the same. Christoph was highly disciplined, though, very careful with what he allowed into his life.

Though lately, that had been slipping too. He found himself growing progressively closer to Leona, having gone so far as to indulge himself with her physically the previous month, and, even worse, several times thereafter. This was not discipline, and he felt guilty for it. He needed to keep a straight head. Perhaps working with Rose was the best thing he could do for now. She wanted a dueling instructor, he would be the world’s best. He thought seriously about looking for other clients and getting out of the mercenary business once and for all, but doubted even his outrageous prices could hold a candle to the money he made under the table.

Rosaline barely held back her smile behind her teacup as she took a sip, green peering over at her mentor and her nose crinkling in a way that plainly said that she'd been caught. "If it makes you feel better, it was not merely a ploy but also a genuine interest in your person well-being, Christoph. I like you." She smiled, and she meant it.

"It's all of my leg muscles that hurt, if I'm honest. I had a bath and soaking seemed to help a little." She set her tea down and folded her hands neatly in her lap. "But, I'm sure that it will be well worth it. I do truly appreciate all of your help." She didn't want him to think that his services weren't wanted. They were. Even if they weren't, she wanted to know more about him. She had to know if he had the potential to become a problem later.

"Wand work would be excellent." Ah, but of course he had written her an exercise regimen. She nodded to indicate that she was listening and that she would follow his instructions. "I think that it would make me feel better if you would, if you truly don't mind?" Though he was older, Christoph did appear to be in much better physical shape than she was. Hopefully that would change with his guidance.

She took another drink from her teacup before pressing on, "Do you like it here in Britain?" If Rosaline were completely honest, she'd rather live in France or Italy. Michael, however, hated France and so that option was completely out of the question. Perhaps she could talk him into viewing Italian homes with her? They could have their own vineyard. That could be useful. With that, she finished her cup.

She was ready.