[Isle of Mordred; Wales] The things we do (and don't) for family (Rosaline Bane)

Of all the places he made personal deliveries of stock to, there was one that was Iago’s favorite. Most of the time he charged a significant fee if they wanted a personal delivery, but they were usually incredibly rare, fragile, or expensive deliveries anyways, so people did not mind paying extra for a personal touch. There was only one client he didn’t mind making such deliveries for. They were also the one client who didn’t get charged extra. After all, Family deserved a discount, especially when that family was his ‘Aunt’ Persephone or his favorite Bane cousin. The fact that these deliveries occasionally contained restricted or slightly illegal ingredients was something easily overlooked, for them. Another thing that, were it anyone else, would have incurred a significant upcharge, assuming he took the job at all. Iago was, after all, trying to rebuild his family’s reputation, and getting arrested for smuggling wouldn’t be the best way to handle that. Better to keep his nose clear.

Iago appeared in the garden surrounding his friend’s mansion, shaking his head a little. He’d always thought it silly why people would live alone in a house this size. Then again, the moriarty manor was larger, and had, at its most in recent years, housed four people exempting support staff. But if rose wanted to live in a big old drafty house all by her lonesome, who was he to judge. Especially after the fire, he didn’t blame people for not wanting to live in an apartment, something he’d used to find preferable. It didn’t take long for him to catch sight of her just coming back from the forest, with a basket on her arm.

With a little grin, Iago took a slightly more winding path, though his stride was longer and she didn’t appear to be in all that great of a rush. He tucked the package under his arm. It was a little awkward, as that same hand was also holding onto a quaffle sized clay pot painted in strange patterns and bright colors, with a small, leafy plant tucked carefully into the soil. His children had insisted that this one was “For Rosa”. And of course Iago had to go the extra mile to find a plant she’d like to put in it.

She took a bend in the path, and his long shadow crossed in front of her by a good bit, as he’d been walking silently behind her, grateful for the soft moss in between the paving stones to deaden the sounds of his footsteps. “Miss me?” he grinned cockily.

Rosaline loved her little island. She had been spending far too much time in England, as of late, and while the bustling city had it's perks.. there was nothing quite like her quiet little fortress of solitude. She could do as she pleased, here, and never have to see anyone that she didn't want to. She was expecting Iago, and so she had taken down some of her wards as not to raise any unnecessary alarm. He hadn't specified a time, but had at least indicated what time of day he'd planned to be by. It was getting close. Rosaline gathered the last of the herbs that needed collecting from her forest. She loved this island. The sounds, the smells. She wasn't in any rush to get back inside, and took the small, winding trail at a leisurely pace.

That was, until she was startled by the sound of a voice right behind her. She whirled around, quickly grabbing her wand.  "Merlin's-bloody-beard, Iago!" She put her wand back in it's holster at her side before swatting playfully at her cousin. "You could have just gone up to the house and had Nim show you in like a normal, decent person." Rosaline was determined not to smile, and instead fixed a decidedly cross look upon her fair features as she gathered up the herbs that she had accidentally spilled out of her basket in her fright.

"I had missed you until just now." She finally broke into a small smile as she spotted the potted plant in his hand. "Is that for me?" It looked like the children had made it. Little darlings. She was still unsure as to whether or not she, herself, wanted children. However, she did enjoy spending time with the little ones in the family. It was easy, with them, though. If they started to get too whiny or rambunctious, she didn't have to keep them. That was the beauty of being childless.

Rose gave a nod toward the house. "Let's get indoors. I'll have Nim put on some tea."

The little start couldn’t have gone any better, watching her spill her herbs as she whirled around wildly, gripping her wand with almost fear before it turned to annoyance and amusement, despite her best efforts to hide it. At least he assumed amusement, from the way she swatted at him. “Well yes I could have just used the front door, but that wouldn’t have been anywhere near as fun.” the cocky grin never left his face, watching her clean up the herbs. “I’d help, but my hands are unfortunately full, and two sweet little angels would turn into diabolical murderers if I broke their pot before giving it to you.” he continued to tease her, though it was the truth. In the time it would have taken him to put down what was in his arms, she would have finished cleaning up.

Her final little comment and smile pleased him, reaching out with the hand that held the pot and wrapping it around her in the best hug he could manage. “And you’ll miss me again once I’m gone. It's only when I’m here that you seem to remember how much you hate me.” he continued to tease her. Rose may have been his some number removed cousin, though with Persephone’s closeness to their family, they felt so much closer at times. The Moriarty and Bane families had always been close, and that was one tradition of his family that he intended to keep with. “Yes. my lovely children wanted to make their Rosa a pretty pot for her plants.” he was grateful, really, that despite not having a mother, his two youngsters had many strong women to look up to. He’d wanted so desperately to give them what he’d never had, but fate took that away without giving him a say in the matter.

“Give it a few years and it won’t take a lengthy trip to Italy to come see them, either.” this was said softly, with some hope, though she would be able to tell that it worried him. At the suggestion of tea, the proud welshman smiled. “Absolutely. Lara insists I started our current business just to have a cheaper way to import decent tea.” he gladly followed her in, shifting things in his arms to allow the elf to take his coat. “So how have things been for you? Other than being easily startled by renegade men? Is your man doing well? Is he treating you well?” he asked, looking around for somewhere to put down the plant or the box, though he had one or two things to get out of it for her, before it was taken away to be gone through later.

"You're awful."  Rosaline declared before returning his hug. She smiled. "We shall see about that." His children really were such precious little people. It was almost hard to believe that they were actually his children. They were far too cute and well-behaved. And so creative! "I love it. Please tell them that I love it. It shall have a special spot on my desk."

She knew how badly Iago wished to return to Britain. It was a sad business, what he'd been forced to endure. They had both lost their fathers on the same night, though she did suppose that it was not much of a loss to either of them. It was terribly unfortunate, however, how he had been made out to be a villain and was driven from the country; his wife and neighbors slain by vigilantes. Without further ado, she led him into her home and directed Nim to start their tea after taking Iago's coat and putting it up.

"Things have been quite well, actually. Michael treats me exceptionally well. Better than my past suitors, I assure you." Rosaline, like many other Bane women, had never had the best taste in men. Michael was an exception to that rule. Except, of course, that he was a muggleborn. She and her family had gone to great lengths to conceal that fact, however. They had helped him to fabricate a whole new identity to appease their more conservative allies. For all the rest of the wizarding world knew, he was a lesser-known member of a well-to-do pureblood family and that was that.

She led him up the stairs to her study before taking the potted plant from him and setting it, as promised, on her writing desk. "And how have you been? How are the children? I do miss them a great deal." The box, she expected, contained the items that they had talked about: the reason for his visit.

"I trust that you brought everything?"

“And you love me for it.” he smirked, handing the potted plant off to her. “The plant is from me. I asked them if it should be something magic, or something pretty, or something you can eat. Three guesses as to which one they picked.” he was fairly certain she’d do a far better job of identifying the species of mint then he was, and in truth this was a bit of a test. Lara was quite familiar with plants, but Iago less so, and if this particular horticulturalist was trying to swindle him claiming that the mint was from some rare breed, and instead more common, then they would certainly be finding a new one. However this one’s prices had been most reasonable.

He followed her through the house up the winding staircase as they talked. It was amazing how easily he relaxed around certain people, like rose or Delaney, people he had no intention of sleeping with; at least in Rose’s case…. Again. Especially since she was head over heels for this Michael. “So if he’s so wonderful, when do i get to meet him?” the dark haired man asked, bringing the box with him up the stairs, knowing she’d want to go through it in detail. “I’m happy for you, you need someone like him in your life. Someone stable.” he said it teasingly, but he meant it. He had his concerns, considering what he knew about Sampson’s death. hopefully Michael would help temper the woman’s violent streak. He loved her, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t concerned.

“You mean other then the whole blizzard incident?” he asked, a grin on his face. “They’re doing so well. I have trouble believing that I’m raising them…” a look of pain crossed his face. Isabella should have been helping raise them, but she was in a crypt on the Moriarty estate. He hadn’t taken the children there, didn’t want to explain to them why she was there. He told them how amazing she was, how funny she was, how much she wished they could be here with them… “Their english is suffering though. They prefer to speak Italian. It worries me.” he had to do something to distract his mind. “They’re mostly good with their lessons, but Perdita would rather be climbing trees, and Phineas would rather be reading. I’m amazed that Lara did such a good job teaching them… of course its italian….” he grinned a little, finally reaching her upstairs study and setting the box down on the table between them.  “But I’m putting an add in the daily prophet looking for an English governess for them. I hope it will help. And it will free up Lara. they don’t quite understand why walking down the stairs is hard for her some days, especially when they want to play outside.” he hated the idea of having to resort to such a thing, but it was necessary. Their business was getting better, and he really needed her help more.

Speaking of business. “Why yes… I did. And….” he reached into the bottom of the box and pulled out the bottle of wine, aged in whiskey barrels. “I found the exact one you were looking for. And six more bottles, back at my home in italy… I believe you owe me.”

"I think that perhaps you may be confusing the word love with the word loathe." Nevertheless, Rosaline's lips turned up into a smile. "I love the plant. That's an interesting species of mint you've selected. It must have been difficult to come by." Her smile broadened. "How sweet."

Ah, yes. Iago had not yet met Michael. "Soon. I think that you might actually like him." At least she had hopes that the two men would get along. They were both incredibly important to her. If someone had told her, in school, that she would grow up and get engaged to Michael Evans, she'd have probably laughed at them. Or hexed them. Or perhaps both. Regardless, Iago was correct. She did need someone stable in her life, and Michael was just that. He had helped her to overcome her dependence on alcohol and potions, and she was forever thankful to him for that. Of course, she still indulged in a couple of glasses of wine at night, but... that was certainly nothing as bad as what she had been subjecting her body to.

"You're a better father than you think." Rose smiled, touching his arm gently. "Please, do not be so hard on yourself. You are doing your best, and that is all anyone can really ask." She hated to see him in pain. She knew that his wife's passing continued to haunt him, and it likely would until the moment that he took his last breath. Rosaline wished that there was something that she could do, but she knew that there was nothing.

Taking a small bag of coins out of her writing desk, Rosaline presented it to him. "It should all be there." She grinned. "You are more than welcome to check, however, if you do not trust me."

“I asked one of my suppliers to find me an interesting edible herb that my friend who was into herbology would enjoy.” he replied easily. Spending time with Rose was always a treat. She was more like a little sister then a second or third cousin. Granted one he’d also slept with, but he wasn’t about to dwell on that little detail. And it was highly unlikely to ever happen again. She was engaged, and he was no longer drowning his grief in bottles of champagne. It was also a highly inappropriate thing to think about while discussing said Fiance.

“You’ll have to tell me more about him sometime. But otherwise how have you been?” He really didn’t feel like continuing that kind of conversation. Not while his mind was on how good she looked when she smiled. He really needed to stop doing that. “You’re not the only one who needs someone stable… it's hard to date when starting a business and trying to raise two kids. Speaking of which, i can’t stay too long. But i can give you at least a half hour of my time.” he smiled at her, a grateful look crossing his face when she commented on his parenting, looking down and sighing. “I do the best i can… but… sometimes you just need to hear someone else say it, you know?”

He took the bag from her, hefting it in his hand before slipping it into his robes comfortably. “I trust you.” he smiled. Not many people got to hear those words from him. “I… Have you heard from Gabriella lately? I figure if she’s still talking to anyone, its you...”

"Awh. That was a very sweet thought." Rosaline smiled, reaching over and pretending to check his forehead with her hand. "Do you have a temperature?" She was only teasing, of course. It wasn't terribly out of character for Iago to do nice things for her, though he could also be a right prat. Still, she loved him regardless. He was family, technically. She had known him since she was an infant, and they had always gotten along. She loved both of his sisters too, though she favored Gabriella.

"I have been quite well." Her smile brightened a little. "Better than I've been in a very long time." It was true. Marrying Michael was something that, before, she had never thought possible. She wasn't sure what she would do without him. Michael Evans, a muggleborn, was the love of her life. It still seemed strange, after the way that she had been raised. Her mother had even grown to like Michael, though begrudgingly at first. Purism ran deep, though she ha found that it was curable. None of them were beyond redemption, it seemed, and she was glad to see her loved ones really pulling together for her.

Taking a moment more to admire her new plant, she then looked back up at Iago. "Tell the children that I really must have more of their work. They're very talented." She had no children of her own, not yet, but she had taken care of Lucia while her mother was teaching at Hogwarts. It was definitely stressful, but fulfilling in a way. Of course, she had the help of Lorcan, the house elves, and a nanny to boot. "If you ever need a break, I would be more than happy to watch them for you. They could play with Lucia."

Gabriella? "Actually, I was just writing to her. She seems to be doing well. Better, anyway. Have you not spoken with her?" How curious...

Iago  chuckled as she reached up to check his forehead, obligingly leaning down a little to make it easier for his dear cousin to do so. She was a weird one, Rose, but they all had their quirks. Even if hers worried him at times. This marriage would be good for her. He was sure of it. Everything he’d heard about the man from Persephone, and the little that rose had told him made him so happy to know that she was happy. “I’ll be sure to let them know that you would like more of their pottery. And Lara’s finally started letting them in her studio, perhaps you’ll get a painting or two some day.” His sister had of course been more worried that they’d eat the paint, but as they got older that was less of a concern. She’d always mixed them herself, but lately Silvano had been coming over to help with that, her hands shaking too much to really pull it off the way that she used to. At least on good days she could still paint, and had been even experimenting with letting the shaking work for her in a more abstract style, though she wasn’t too keen on the outcome so far.

He sighed when she asked him about Gabriella, leaning back on a table behind him. “Gabriella…. We haven’t spoken much since the fire… in fairness Lara and I were never the kindest people to her. We always made the excuse that by keeping our distance we were protecting her from our father, but I think that both of us are… less inclined to admit that we fell into his tendencies of treating her cruelly and used that as an excuse...” he looked away from Rose, out the window to her gardens below, where it had started to drizzle. “To be quite honest, it would not surprise me if she never wanted to speak with either of us ever again… If she does… she knows how to reach us. I send her birthday and christmas letters… but what i’ve gotten back is the bare minimum of formalities...”

"Oh, I would love that. They are such little darlings." Rosaline loved art of all kinds, but rarely actually created it herself. It was far easier just to buy it from someone else. She enjoyed feeling as though she were helping her more expressive friends earn a living that they enjoyed. Recently, she had befriended a French fashion designer. He had designed a custom wedding dress for her, and she had commissioned some other pieces since.

Rosaline's eyes searched Iago's face as he spoke. Obviously, he seemed bothered by the absence of his older sister. Guilt. That was the emotion that she was reading on his face. At least he had the heart to at least feel guilty. She had always taken an issue with the way that Ian treated Gabriella, and had found herself at odds with the man more often than not during his life. She saw Iago the most, but Gabriella had always had a special place in the former Slytherin's heart. They had quite a bit in common for two people who seemed so different. She loved Iago, but she knew how cruel he could be. He could probably have said the same about her.

"I think that it has just been hard for her. The changes, losing everything... She thinks that you hate her? Just keep trying, I suppose. That is the only real advice that I can offer to you, I am afraid." It was a sad situation that they were all in. More and more, she hated Voldemort. This was all his fault. Or at least that's what she wanted to believe. Their families had all made their choices. Now, they had finally begun to make their own.

Offering a small, sympathetic smile, Rosaline went on, "Would you like anything to eat with your tea? I could have Nim fetch you something."

“She… thinks I hate her?” Iago asked, seeming startled by this admission. He shook his head, not able to understand why Gabriella would think that. If anything, she should have hated him and Lara. he found it hard to believe, but Gabriella was always far more open with Rose then she had been with anyone in her own immediate family. He regretted that as well, but there wasn’t anything that could be done about the past. It was of course, in the past. But things could be different going forwards, if only she’d open up to them… but perhaps he and Lara should not have given up on her so easily. Sure they’d spent the better part of three years trying to keep in contact with her, but towards the end, it had been reduced to just formalities even on their end. Iago couldn’t remember the last time he’d sent her a letter was; and realized with some regret that it had in fact been nearly a year. They’d missed her birthday.

“I should write her… I would go, but where she lives… it's not exactly a location anyone can go.” Schull Estate was unplottable. And that meant he’d have to write to Dermod, someone Lara held a strong hatred for. She’d even told him why… after the war, when he’d learned what their father, and Kevan Tate had done to her. But that had been after the fire. A year after the war. With gabriella already gone from them. Worry filled his gut more, and he sipped at the tea. “I can’t stay too long, not for food anyways.” he had a lot of paperwork to do back home, but was reluctant to leave Rose.

“You don’t think…. You don’t think her husband is intentionally isolating her… do you?” he asked worriedly, afraid to voice his concerns to Rose. she was fiercely protective of her family, and especially Gabriella. He didn’t want to share with rose what Lara had told him, less she jump to conclusions and an innocent man face her wrath. Not that Dermod was innocent, but he might be innocent of what Lara was suspicious of.

Rosaline made a mental note of the startled expression on her companion's face. She, herself, hadn't been all that surprised when Gabriella had made the admission to her. Iago had not been for Gabriella the way that he should have been, in her mind. Of course, she couldn't quite say that out loud to him. Not right now, at least. He seemed more vulnerable than he had been before, and even she could be soft when the time came for it. She nodded in reply. "You know she's always had a low self-esteem. Psychologically, it makes perfect sense that she would blame herself and assume that you would as well. It's in her nature, I am afraid."

She, herself, was just the opposite. She could be kind and loving, but when crossed she became the embodiment of Wrath itself. She had already taken several lives within the span of her time on the Earth. Some Iago knew of, but not all. She appreciated that he felt that he could open up to her. It made her feel as though she wasn't the monster that she feared herself to be.

"You absolutely should write to her." She sipped her own tea, looking over at him as he spoke. "I had that worry myself. Thankfully, I am planning to pay her a visit soon. I shall let you know what I think once I've returned... Unless I asked if you could come along? Whatever it is that you decide and that she will allow, I suppose? Regardless, I'll keep in touch. Though he really had better hope that isn't what is happening." A look of anger flashed in her brown eyes. She would keep her cool during her visit, but she would be sure to pay close attention.

“Isabella… that's what she blames herself for. Isn’t it...” he spoke softly, with pain in his voice. Of course she would. Gabriella and Isabella had been together when the fire had started. Gabriella had survived, but his wife had not. Iago did not know the details of that; but he certainly did not blame Gabriella for it. Fire was unpredictable. For whatever reason, Dermod had been able to find Gabriella, or she would have died. If both women had succumbed to the smoke, and He hadn’t known the other woman was there… after all, Gabriella usually worked alone. He shook his head slowly. “Oh Gabriella...” he murmured softly, drinking his tea.

When Rose suggested bringing Iago with her, he immediately gave a more curt shake of his head, no. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. She reached out to you. She wants to see you because she’s comfortable with you. If you bring me along, that would only make things more strenuous for her. Especially if she thinks that I blame her.” and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to be cordial with Dermod, knowing what he did about the man. But he’d seen him with gabriella at his and Isabella’s wedding… and he’d seemed to have genuine feelings for her, regardless of what Lara had told him that the man had done in the past. So he was willing to reserve judgement.

“But definitely let me know how it goes? And I’ll make it a point to write to her.” he had no intention of letting her know of what he and rose had discussed, but he would write to her. Gabriella deserved that much. He was worried however, about Rose. “just… try to keep an open mind. You know how Lara is. She knows everyone’s dark secrets, and it's made her… Paranoid.”

Rosaline gave a nod. "It is, I am afraid..." She wished that Gabriella wouldn't feel that way, but human emotions were a funny thing. Iago had made a good point on it being in poor taste to bring him along. Perhaps she could just tell his sister that he wished that he could see her? It might make her feel better. Or at least it might make it seem more believable when he said it?

"I will give you a full report when I return home. Perhaps, then, you'll be able to stay longer?" She nodded again and gave an amused smile at what she knew to be Iago's attempt to calm her down. She wasn't always an easy read, but the pair of them had always had a special relationship despite their age difference. When she was a little girl, she had briefly had her mind set on marrying him. Of course, that was ridiculous and certainly not something that she had ever shared with anyone else on the planet for fear of the shame that it would have brought her. Of course, it wasn't as if she had never had him in her bed. That week in Paris. To her knowledge, however, nobody knew about that but the pair of them. It wasn't exactly something that she told people. Not even Lorin.

"Promise me, right now, that you will write to your sister?"

Iago let out a sigh at Rose’s confirmation. It was one thing to suspect, but another to know for certain. He wanted nothing more than to grab Gabriella into his arms and hold her tightly, like a child, and reassure her that wasn’t at all the case. That he was happy she had lived, and… but that would have been treating her like a child, would it not? And that in some ways would have been worse. Their father had constantly taunted gabriella with child-like insults, and any insinuation that she was childish, or needed to be treated as such was likely to have the opposite effect.

“I suppose I could arrange to come for lunch after your visit with gabriella...” he offered up. Not dinner, because he had made it a point to always eat dinner with his children, unless they were with their grandparents, and even then Iago was often along. It was something that he was immovable about. “There's so much I wish I knew… does she have a garden? Horses? I’m certain he must have a library, she’s mentioned reading with his daughter in it… But to have lost everything, and be a stranger in a new home, without anything of her own to make it hers...” Iago of course had no way of knowing that gabriella had already started moving some of her things there before the fire, or that Dermod had been able to save some of what was most precious to her.

“He was able to save some of her cats, you know...” he mused, pleased at least that the man cared enough about his sister to save those stupid creatures that his sister loved so much. He tolerated no animals in his home, and was annoyed that Gabriella insisted that the apartments allow residents to have them. But he didn’t have to see them, so at least there was that. When she made her demands, Iago couldn’t help but smile. “Yes Mother.” he teased. “I’ll write her. I promise.”