the first frost of winter [gabriella]

There was pleasure in her face as he smiled, resting her head against his chest as he gently caressed her back. This was indeed the best surprise, and she was so glad that she had agreed to accompany---

Gabriella let out a sudden shriek, clinging to him tightly as the jarring feeling of apparition took hold, angrilly smacking his chest with her fist and looking up at him incredulously. “That was… that was mean! You know i don’t like that…. You…. you…. Incorrigible git...” he was laughing at her, and she crossed her arms, trying to stay angry as he just acted as though nothing at all was wrong. She huffed, refusing to look at him, knowing that if she did she’d probably start laughing, or smile, or feel bad for calling him names. And she wasn’t about to give him the pleasure.  She instead focused on the fountain, and the delicate ornate leaves carved into its base, looking like petrified ivy had wound its way up the entire base, where water would have flowed over them had it been flowing this time of year.  Of course some other incorrigible git calling himself Gazz had decided to mar this lovely place with his marking. “I should very much like to find this Gazz and make him scrub this place clean with only his toothbrush.” she grumbled, a little saddened by the fact that this place seemed more worn, more run down then when they’d last been here.

She let out a soft sigh as he still smuggly continued, before choosing a direction different then the one they had came from the last time. At least she was hoping it was a different one. It was kind of hard to tell, since the evergreen hedges were unchanged and the benches were relatively different. Her only clues were the patternings on the floor, but she stopped, letting out an amused little gasp. “Dermod look! It's actually a mosaic...” her anger with him was forgotten for the time being, marveling over the floor. “Is it six different mazes that each lead somewhere else? This one looks like a rose, and i think the rose garden should be that way...” she looked around at each of the others. “A Rose, A pond, A bird, A tree, A Gazebo, and….” she stared at the last one for a while, but couldn't quite make it out, as it was rather worn. “You would think that they would take better care of such a place...”

Gabriella roused was truly adorable, not to mention terrifying. If one found an irked six-week old kitten terrifying, anyway. Dermod bit the inside of his lower lip hard and raised an eyebrow in mock outrage, just managing not to laugh at her outburst at the same time rejoicing in her reaction. Her spirit, so long buried under the burden she'd carried following the fire at the Rose apartments, was returning a little more each day. When she turned away, arms folded, he suspected she was also trying not to laugh or at least smile. They were entirely alone; the temptation to sweep her into his arms and suggest something that would involve a very strong heating charm indeed being cast upon the fountain was great indeed.

There would be time for that later, once they were home.

“Toothbrush? I'd rather make him lick it clean. In January. At midnight.” the Irishman responded. Actually, given that it was undoubtedly a muggle had caused the damage he was thinking of several far more amusing and creative punishments, but none of them were appropriate to mention in front of a lady. The exchange had at least distracted Gabriella from her anger at being apparated without warning. Dermod recalled suddenly that he'd done something similar the last time they were here, as well. As he tried to remember the exact circumstances, his wife was examining the various directions they might take. Last time they had got quite impressively lost, their excursion cut short by the rain. This time there were less clouds in the sky, and the mist was starting to burn off as the morning progressed. It looked set to be a perfect late autumn day. His musings were cut short by Gabriella's excited gasp, and he crossed to where she was standing, staring down at the paved ground.

Really, this was far more interesting than he had expected. Unable to comprehend that muggles could think beyond their most basic needs. the writer was beginning to wonder if this had been created by someone with magical ancestry. Perhaps a squib had worked here and designed the maze? “Yes...and if each one leads to a different destination...or rather, if each one begins at a different place and leads here...” he examined each of the flagstones and their raised patterns in turn, some more worn than others. Yes, here was the rose, and this one would be the bird - he wondered if that was where they had started from - and here...“A key. The last one is a key” he finished for her.

“I wouldn't think any such thing. How would they know the value of such a place when they only visit in the summer. Transient interests, superficial desires... “ he trailed off, not wanting to spoil their time here. A moment later he asked “So. Which way shall we choose?” Dermod favoured the key, thinking it might lead to some sort of undiscovered building, but he suspected he already knew which way they would go.

There was a faint laugh from his wife as dermod suggested more cruel punishments for the muggle who had defaced this beautiful place, nodding in agreement. “I’m quite certain that any punishment i could come up with would pale in comparison to the delights in your mind that you’re not voicing my dear...” she smiled at him, almost flirtatiously. “I have read your novels after all...”   She fingered the hilt of her wand, wondering if she could clear up the grafiti without any notice from the muggles who managed this place; but it wouldn’t do any good. If not Gazz, some other lowlife would find his way in here and just deface it again, most likely. “What i wouldn’t give to see the gardens at the castle like this...” she half whispered. But of course since she did most of the maintenance there herself… granted with the aid of magic, but still… it was a tall order for one woman. Still, it was giving her ideas.

“Of course. A key. That makes sense now...” she mused, looking at the design in the ground, then down the various paths as if she’d be able to see where they lead to. She returned to his side, sliding her arm around his waist and smiling sweetly, her head resting against his side as they stood together. “I suspect… hm...” there were so many good options, and it would take them some time to explore them all. They could probably come back here several more times, just to finish the maze and the other parts of the gardens.

“Well we’ve already seen the Rose Garden...” she murmured, watching him in the hopes of getting a hint of where he might like to go, even if she already had a destination in mind. “I’m torn between the Key and the Gazebo...” she finally answered. “One promises mystery, and the other a lovely vista for viewing...” she looked between the two paths. “Of course they’re all interconnected, as we discovered last time...” without further pondering, Gabriella took his hand in her own, and headed towards the path with the key. “With my sense of direction… we’ll end up back at the front gates in no time!” she teased cheerily.

It was faintly disturbing how Gabriella seemed able to read his thoughts on occasion. Perhaps she wouldn't have been shocked by his thoughts at the vandalized seating, but it seemed he didn't need to say anything further anyway. What he did notice was the way she was holding her new wand, still gazing at the damage. Perhaps he knew what she was thinking, too. “Nobody will notice. They'll assume someone else cleaned it, and lack the wit to ever ask.” It wouldn't make a difference, of course. A month, six months, a year...muggles always destroyed their most beautiful places without even stopping to question the reasons for the destruction, if indeed they had the faculties to think in such a way. But if the Welshwoman wanted to clean it for now, they would have time.

“The rose gardens at Schull already look better than they have for many years...and I would be interested to hear your ideas for the rest of the estate” he told her, once the sullied bench was no longer occupying their attention. Hiring a gardener or a team of gardeners was unlikely, but the elves would help with any projects she had in mind. He supposed Cliona might assist as well, given her fondness for Gabriella, but it was as likely she would accidentally transfigure a tree into a troll as actually do anything useful.

As she returned to his side, he raised an arm, slid it around her waist. The action was automatic, done without thinking. Where once his every action was carefully considered for maximum effect, now he responded to the young woman because it was as natural as breathing. He was surprised at her choice, though, having assumed she would have chosen the path of the rose. Actually, he'd hoped for that, because he had a further surprise in store for her - but there would be time for that later. And, he thought with a smirk she couldn't see, he could always just apparate her again to where he wanted to go. With that thought in mind, he allowed her to lead the way along the path he'd wanted to take.

“The front gates? You're certain we won't still be wandering around in here at nightfall..?” he responded, but there was warmth in his voice as he followed, letting her choose the route through the tall hedges. Some were less well kept than others, and they had to press close together to pass through. Theoretically Gabriella could have gone first, or vice versa, but neither of them seemed to think of that possibility...or just didn't want to. Reaching a fork in the maze, she made her choice, and then a second time a little further on. Then they reached another crossroads; this one with four possible routes. Again there were the designs on the flagstones, smaller this time and less obvious. A branch, a feather, a water droplet, and..?

Dermod’s quiet words were all the permission gabriella needed, murmuring a ‘Scourgify’ as she  aimed her wand, clearing up the graffiti so the fountain and benches looked crisp and clean, if not still worn and a bit run down. She smiled softly, feeling pleased with herself. Perhaps it wouldn’t make a difference in the long run, but this was her and Dermod’s little secret sanctuary, and she wasn’t about to let it be marred horrifically by muggles and ruin the view for the two of them. She hadn’t paid attention to the flagstones before. Granted the last time they were in the maze they’d been having a bit of a tiff. She couldn’t remember what about, but it had been the first time she’d found one of those dangerous subjects. Of course they’d finally cleared that all up…. And then the fire had happened. She quickly focused her attention elsewhere, and thankfully Dermod was speaking again.

“Well I should certainly hope to not still be lost come nightfall. We’d have missed two perfectly good meals by that point.” she replied, fully confident that Dermod had no intention of letting her skip meals ever again. She was perfectly aware of what he was doing lately, making sure that she ate as obsessively as he was, to the point of changing the menu to include things that would help her put on weight. The bagginess of the coat he’d had custom made for her implied that it was for the best at least. And Gabriella had no problems with him taking charge, in that or other matters. It was reassuring, and made her feel taken care of. She continued leaning on him as they walked, only parting from him slightly when they came to another crosswalk.

“And now suddenly I hate the person who designed this.” she grumbled. The designs here were all different from the previous ones. She couldn’t even follow the same pattern to get to the right place. “Savages.”  again they had four options, with the water droplet pointing back towards the fountain. But the flagstones were so worn here, she couldn’t make out what the fourth one was. If the feather connected up with the bird path from before, that really only left the branch, and the mystery. “Well. Mystery it is.” she smiled sweetly, hoping she was making the right choice.

Dermod had thought he was being discreet in his efforts to persuade Gabriella to gain back some of the weight she had lost. For the past few weeks, ever since the night they had rediscovered each other on the storm-soaked clifftop he'd been directing the elves in the castle menus far more than he ever had before. He'd even considered the idea of bringing food along today, but the effort of transfiguring everything small enough to be concealed with in his cloak, coupled with the possibility of poor weather had persuaded him otherwise. Still, he'd thought his efforts had gone unnoticed, but evidently not. There was nothing in her voice to suggest she minded, though, and he let that one pass with no further comment.

Again he wondered who had designed this place, and how often anyone managed to solve the mystery, if indeed mystery there was. Perhaps it was designed this way so the gardeners didn't have to get lost for hours while tending the hedges. Because of course, they didn't have the option of simply blasting a hole through the tightly-packed bushes when they lost their way. “So you don't want to build a maze on the estate grounds?” he queried with some amusement at her frustration “It could be an ideal plan - if the Fidelius charm ever failed, it would be our back-up. We would only allow entry to those who managed to solve it...and could explain how!”  There was humour in his tone, but at the back of his mind was the concern that the charm may not be forever. He was the eighth - or was it ninth - secret keeper of the castle, but he genuinely didn't know who, if anyone, the modified charm would pass to when...

Better not to consider that for now. They'd reached another crossroads and without needing to consult were both examining the flagstones. Dermod bent down on one knee to look at one that was partially overgrown by moss. A tiny, ornate scroll. The water droplet, the feather and some sort of geometric design could be seen without such close examination. Either the first or the last could have been the one that had been too worn to read earlier. “The scroll?” he suggested, with just the smallest hint of doubt in his tone “I don't see how the other one could have anything to do with a key”  Or perhaps the design referred to what was revealed by the key. He had assumed it was the key to a building or ornate room, but what if it was something more esoteric? “Solving this maze is a lot like plotting a story” he mused as they continued on their chosen path “Both start with an idea, but often one ends up travelling in a quite different direction to what was originally intended...”

Soft laughter echoed through the maze as Gabriella continued holding onto his arm, resting her head against his shoulder as they walked. “You would hate it. Nothing would ever get done in the gardens, and you’d have to come find me every single night before dinner because i’d be so horribly lost that i’d never find my way out. Not to mention if it started storming...” but she was amused, though she really hadn’t asked him how the Fidelius charm worked. The Moriarty estate did not have one, though she was quite certain that Iago would have set one up if he knew how. After all, she knew how much he loved if there, and would have prefered to be raising his children there. Had he resigned to living in italy forever? Or was he planning on coming back; she wondered. If there was a way… he would.  But Gabriella had not heard from her brother in years, and was still uncertain about writing to him. Perhaps Rose could help.

They reached the next crossroads, and the welsh witch finally released his arm, separating so they could both examine the different paths. “I don’t see why they couldn’t have just stuck with the key.” she mused, a little frustrated. The designs on the cobbles were a complication she’d not been counting on, expecting to simply wander around and hopefully find a way out. “Lara told me after our last trip here, that if you always take every left turn in a maze you will eventually find your way… or was it right turn.” despite her efforts, her thoughts as of late had continually drifted back to her sister. Lara had been very cruel as children, and distant as adults, but when Gabriella had needed her, and they’d been in private, her sister had been kind; supportive even. Although she had insisted repeatedly that Gabriella stop seeing Kevan, but Gabriella understood that too, after what she now knew. 

“I say we take the scroll path. It sounds the most interesting. Though I’m curious about the water droplet. But it could lead to the center… and if not, if its fountains the water will be turned off so that won’t be very fun. I’m sure we could spell them into closing for a day at some point during the late spring… I’d love to visit when everything is in full bloom.” naturally by we, she meant him. Gabriella was in no way confident enough in her abilities to do such a thing on her own. She tilted her head as they walked, listening to him talk. “I had always assumed that you plotted everything out before writing a story...” she mused, as the two of them had never really discussed the process of his writing. “When i write poetry, i sit down with a blank page and no real sense of direction, and just write. Sometimes it good.. Other times it makes little sense. And sometimes it makes no sense until i’ve a clear head and a few days have passed.”

The two of them reached another circle with benches now, though thankfully it was a different one, with five paths leading off of it, and a large archway. She let out a happy little gasp when she looked out the arch. “Dermod I think we actually did it!” but her attention was drawn more to the statue in the center of the circle, not a fountain this time, but a statue of a horse reared back, wild and free. And full size. The smile on her face as she looked up at it was one of longing and nostalgia, and perhaps a bit of sorrow as well.

“Alternatively, once you can apparate again with your new wand I can just leave you out there and enjoy dinner myself, secure in the knowledge that you've simply lost track of time...” he suggested, raising an eyebrow. Dermod knew full well he would do nothing of the kind, and actually preferred that Gabriella wasn't currently able to apparate herself. He enjoyed the way she was reliant on him. In the past few years there had been far less occasions when he'd actually felt needed and appreciated, and while he may not admit it to himself, he liked the fact that she made him feel like the most important person in the world. Even now her mental state was clearly improving he still felt that way, indeed was glad that she was starting to mention her family again.

“Your sister could well be correct. Though logically, taking every left turn could also land you right back where you started” he said thoughtfully as they paused at the latest crossways and decided on the route to take “but scroll it shall be” they started anew along the narrow pathway, this one seeming to twist and turn and going for quite some distance without offering any alternative choices. He pondered her other request, which of course hadn't been phrased as a request at all, because that wasn't Gabriella's way. But he understood it as such anyway. “We can do that. It should be...amusing to arrange” he added, a slight smirk the only indication of precisely how amusing he would find it to manipulate a group of unknown muggles into believing that the place was closed. “We could convince them that there's an escaped tiger in the maze, perhaps...” he chuckled, already plotting how he could discover the right people to curse so they spread the rumour as effectively as possible...

The thought naturally led on to talk about writing as they walked. Aside from interviews with journalists who didn't understand the first thing of the work involved in producing a novel, much less a trilogy as two of his works had been, Dermod spoke surprisingly little of his career much of the time. “Oh yes, I always start with a plan. My first two or three novels stuck rigidly to the plan, but since then, it's become more fluid - though I rarely start to write without at least a few pages of notes first. Unfortunately, often the characters have other ideas and take on a life of their own. Several times I've found myself writing things that i was certain they wouldn't do or say, and then it opens up a world of new possibilities I would never have otherwise considered. It is a strange process, some might say akin to magic in its complexity...” his voice trailed off as they rounded another corner and were confronted with an impressive statue.

“I take it back. This maze is more akin to your writing, started without a plan but growing into something beautiful” The Irishman failed to see what a rearing horse had to do with either a key or a scroll. Unless all the symbols were interconnected in some way... “If this is another centre to the maze, does that mean there are six in total?” he wondered out loud, their previous discussion temporarily abandoned. Then Gabriella's satisfied expression as she noticed the arch, similar to ones they'd seen elsewhere in the gardens, told him she had evidently succeeded in finding the exit. A thought struck him, and he backtracked a few steps and checked the ground. Yes, there was the waterdrop symbol on the route they had come from. Despite himself, the Irishman was impressed. It had clearly taken a great deal of planning to create a maze such as this.

When he turned back, he saw the way Gabriella was looking at the horse, and was surprised. There was a look in her eyes that suggested it was triggering a memory, but she'd never mentioned horses before. Cats, certainly - he'd lost count of how many of the furry little fiends now roamed the castle and surrounding estate, other than knowing it was well into double figures. Even Rhiannon had one of her own now. He looked uncertainly at the statue as he walked back to stand behind the young woman. It was well-carved, certainly, but for Dermod the only memory it triggered was “It reminds me...no” he wasn't about to bring up something else from his past. Not now, anyway. He took Gabriella's hand and led her over to sit on the closest of the stone benches, facing the front view of the statue. Mainly to distract his wife from asking what he had almost said he asked, virtually at random  “Did you ever ride?”

It was hard to believe that Dermod would have really left her out there, though the subject did remind her of something else, fingering her new wand. She was so much more comfortable with this one; and it was so much easier to work with then any of her previous wands had been. They’d all been alright of course, but she was a woman who had gone through so much in the past seven years, that it didn’t surprise her the new wand would be so different from the others. It had at first of course, but she’d warmed to it, and it just felt…. Right. “We should… start practicing actually. I really want to… I need to. I love going everywhere with you, but i feel..” like a burden. “Trapped. Especially when you go away...” she didn’t want to make him feel bad by talking about unpleasant things like her own insecurities. Today was a fun and plesant day. They could talk about those some other time.

“This reminds me of the rose garden entrance, with the statue of the three girls playing. Perhaps the different entrances are all little courtyards like this one?” she mused, watching him look around at the markings on the ground. “So perhaps the water droplet means the fountain...” she said, following where his gaze had gone, before she went back to the horse statue. It looked more like Iago’s, she decided, remembering his Gelding fondly. Though that brought up more sad memories. And the sadness of having left her horse behind at her father’s estate. She looked up when Dermod spoke, before letting him lead her to one of the benches and asking her about her own experiences with horses.

She let out a soft laugh at the absurdity of his question, not that he had any way of knowing. “I did, a little I suppose. At least three or four times a week when I wasn’t at school, and sometimes every day weather permitting. I even had my own horse, this pretty little mare. I suppose she’s still at my father’s estate… though I wouldn’t know. I’m sure she’s being well cared for however… our Caretaker loved those horses like they were his own children.” she sighed nostalgically, resting her head against him. “I hadn’t realized how long it had been since i’d been riding until I saw the statue… poor Diantha must think i’ve forgotten her… even when my father was at his worst I’d suffer his presence just to go to the estate to go riding.”

The thought of Gabriella practising apparation made him feel uncomfortable, and the writer wished he hadn't raised the subject. She could practise on the estate easily enough, just trying short distances to begin with as beginner students did, but what if she splinched herself? Dermod wasn't sure when he had become so concerned for her welfare, whether it was a recent phenomenon or if it had crept up on his years ago and he hadn't noticed until recently. “You're never a burden” was what he said though, and he could well understand her feeling trapped. It had been several months before he'd been able to apparate while he healed from his injuries following the battle, and he'd hated not being able to travel any distance, even though he hadn't been well enough to go anywhere. To hear she struggled when he went away, though, was something he had never considered and didn't want to think about now. An arm around her shoulders, he kissed the top of her head in a manner that could be considered reassuring.

Her analysis of the maze made sense, too. If all the entrances resembled courtyards, each with a statue. “Perhaps...though I don't know what a horse has to do with keys” he mused, though right now the news that Gabriella had not only ridden but also owned horses commanded his attention. Three or four times a week was hardly a passing fancy, particularly given what he knew of Gabriella's relationship with her father. Dermod could ride, or at least he supposed he still could, though it had been years since he'd even been near a horse. He thought back - the riding itself had been pleasant, in some ways moreso than riding a broom, something which was apt to become quickly uncomfortable, despite the convenience that meant it couldn't be traced like most other transportation methods. It was the actual caring for the animals afterwards that he had completely lacked interest in. “Would you like to pay a visit there sometime? See if your horse is...well?” he finished, with only the slightest pause. Originally he had intended to ask if your horse is still there, but thankfully had changed the words just in time.

To cover the moment, he decided to share what he had thought moments earlier. “For a moment when we first rounded this corner, the statue reminded me of something far less pleasant. At the end of my first year, when we got off the train I found myself face to face with a rearing thestral. Being surprised by a skeletal winged horse is one thing, but being surprised by a skeletal winged horse hardly anyone else can see is, as you can imagine, very unpleasant. I'd read about them, but hadn't realised I could see them until that moment.” he chuckled at the memory, but at the time it had been horribly startling for a twelve year old boy, and naturally his sister had thoughtfully fallen about laughing. “I went to see old Kettleburn once I was back at school - do you remember him? He still had both arms and half a leg back then , and he took me out to see them, petted one to show how safe they were and it bit his hand. Which...was not terribly reassuring, and explains why I immediately crossed his subject off my list of ones I might want to pursue!” Not that he had ever been the slightest bit interested in clearing up after creatures of any kind, anyway. Rising from the bench, Dermod crossed to look through the archway at where they had come out of the maze...and turned back quickly, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Yes, we've definitely found the way out this time” he said, swallowing hard in order to be able to continue “Very impressive. Very...convenient.”  What Gabriella had not yet seen was that, while there may once have been an exit here, it was now overgrown and all but impassable. However, a Victorian toilet block stood proudly off to one side, the heavy door decorated with... a large embossed key.

There was a faint sigh as she leaned her head against his shoulder with a soft smile. “Are you sure you're not a Legilimens?” she teased softly. “You seem to always know what I’m not saying.” of course he’d always been good at reading her, especially early on in there relationship he had learned that what came out of Gabriella’s lips and what was on the witch’s mind were often two different things entirely. As she grew less shy around him, she got better at expressing herself and speaking her mind, but there was still a great deal she held back on. Of course  that had been her contribution to the silence of the last four years… something they were finally getting past and she didn't want to think about. Fortunately they were talking about Horses now.  And she couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Kettleburn terrified me my first three years. He was always so Boisterous… and Intense. Iago took his classes though. My father took the three of us to a friend’s who owned Thestrals. He’d expected Iago to see them, but that I could was a surprise to him. After all, I was only just out of my first year… He thought I’d just found the stablemaster’s wife at the bottom of the stairs and hadn’t realized i’d seen her fall...” Gabriella seemed unusually well adjusted talking about such a thing, as though it didn’t bother her at all anymore. Sure the woman had been near and dear to the little girl, but Gabriella had a hundred pleasant memories of the woman, and her husband had spent time with gabriella to talk about how everything died eventually after they’d had to put her first pony down. The most important thing, he’d said, was to focus on all the good times you had with them, and not dwell on how they left the world. “I do wonder how he’s doing… at that big manor, with only the horses and the house elves.” she looked up at him, and smiled. “I should certainly love to go visit… I just wish we had somewhere I could keep Diantha at Schull… though the poor man would be beside himself if i took his favorite horse away...”

She watched as he got up, before picking herself up off the bench and following him, only to see him turn around, choking on his own laughter. “What.” she muttered, an annoyed tone to his voice. “What is it now---” she walked closer to the exit and then saw it, letting out a cry of frustration. “Stupid muggle imbeciles using a scroll as an allegory for toilet paper!” she kicked at the dirt with her shoe. “Stop laughing. It's not funny.” she grumbled and walked away from the entrance, looking at the other symbols on the floor.

He laughed softly at her comment, reaching up to stroke her hair. There was an art to knowing what she was thinking but choosing not to share, one that had been refined over decades and with many other women. But was that true, though?  He knew when people were hiding something, he knew how to manipulate them into doing what he wanted, but that wasn't the same thing. Not truly, because it mattered what she thought, whether she was happy...and with Gabriella, it had always been that way, no matter how often he tried to tell himself otherwise. That didn't mean he wasn't going to tease, or dominate, or try to get his own way in just about everything, for Dermod would never be able to change his ways. But not to the point of her ever feeling uncomfortable.

Which is what their next topic of conversation could have been under other circumstances. Horses and death; not an odd subject at all but actually rather interesting. After more than five years he was still learning new things about his wife. Not only that she rode, but she owned a horse that she hadn't seen for several years...though there was something odd about what Gabriella was saying. The Irishman couldn't imagine a pureblood wanting to make a career out of caring for horses, and yet it seemed unthinkable that the Moriarty patriarch would have employed anything less. “Would the stablemaster not have moved on to alternative employment after so long?” he enquired thoughtfully, curiosity evident in his tone. Perhaps by now the Moriarty estate lay abandoned to all but occasional visitors, the house elves taking care of the horses - if they were even still there.

How did one transport a horse, though? If one of Gabriella's siblings or other family members had decided to take them to Italy, Dermod supposed apparation wouldn't work, nor a portkey... Though if the creature was indeed still in Wales and she really wanted it brought back to Schull, that wouldn't be impossible. “There used to be a stable block on the estate,” he said “set back behind the Pine trees. I don't believe anyone has used it in my lifetime, but it was well built...it could be renovated. If that's what you want...” Though perhaps to transport a horse it would need to be ridden, and a boat chartered from the North coast of Wales across to Ireland...he shuddered at the thought. That was one thing he would not want to assist with! Thankfully his discovery quickly erased any unpleasant thoughts of deep water.

Dermod had just about managed to hold his mirth within when he'd discovered what was beyond the archway. But once Gabriella discovered the secret, and expressed her displeasure, he couldn't contain it any longer and ended up doubled over, hands on his knees as she raged about stupid muggles and what the key and the scroll had really meant. The more annoyed she was, the funnier it seemed and even when she said it wasn't funny that just served to redouble the amusement he felt. “I could always...apparate us out again...” he offered...

When he asked about the caretaker, Gabriella just smiled brightly. “Oh Joseph would never have left!” she replied, rather sure of herself, before hesitating. “Joseph is a Squib, but he didn’t want to leave the magical world. My father was quite happy to give him a job, and he loves those horses more than anything in the world. His family used to live in the carriage house, but his children would be grown now… they were five or six years younger then me. They’re a good family.” she smiled at the pleasant memories, although she hadn’t been much for playing with others, preferring as a child to play by herself. She looked very happy that he was even considering bringing her horse to the estate however.

That conversation was left by the wayside in the wake of their discovery, gabriella crossing her arms angrily. “I am going to find us a way out of here if I DIE TRYING.” she snarled at him, finishing her examination of the symbols on the ground. The water droplet was where they had come from, which left a geometric design, a feather, a tree, and the Gazebo. “Git...” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. But it was impossible to stay mad at Dermod for very long, and it was still kind of funny, if he’d not been laughing at her excitement in thinking she’d solved the puzzle.

But she wasn’t about to declare defeat just yet and let him apparate them out of here. She started to head down the path with the Tree on it, before turning around. “Well are you coming, or will I need to call in a healer to help you back to your feet?” she teased, her eyes glittering. With that, Gabriella started off down the path, knowing he’d catch up to her. Served him right for laughing at her. She actually thought her sense of direction was doing well this time.

The stablemaster was a squib? That was interesting, not to mention unexpected - and also potentially useful. A man from a pureblood family who worked with the animals. Dermod began to calculate. Gabriella wanted to do more with the gardens, but she didn't have the time nor the strength to do it all herself. If there was someone they could employ, someone who was discreet and a proven worker, pureblood background, who could be absolutely guaranteed not to apparate away or discuss his employers with anyone else... Until this moment he hadn't considered the possibility, but if the man had been living effectively alone for several years, he might be willing to consider another offer of employment. Particularly if it involved caring for the same horse, or even...

This thought remained at the back of the writer's mind even as he struggled to stop laughing. Which was difficult, because while he knew he shouldn't laugh when Gabriella became angry, the Welshwoman was just too adorable when she resembled a furious, spitting kitten. Right now, the spitting kitten had a massively fluffed up tail and was about to stalk away in disgust, and the mental image of that wasn't helping him to regain control. He already knew she wouldn't accept the indignity of simply apparating away, and he suspected that even if a torrential downpour, complete with thunder and lightning, were to strike the maze in the next few minutes she would still insist on remaining to solve it until they have tried every single pathway. Already she had stalked ahead down one of the paths they hadn't yet selected.

Gabriella was almost out of sight when he stood upright once more and, with a mental shrug, followed her. It was a truly unusual turn of events that had allowed the young woman to be in the lead, and he decided to allow her to continue for a while, just out of curiosity. He matched his footfalls closely to her own, keeping just far enough behind that he could see her. She reached another crossroads, checked the ground, and continued. Dermod quickened pace slightly to be sure he didn't unwittingly take a wrong turn; having realised he had failed to check the ground when he had followed her a little while earlier. Now he was not far behind; the idea of her turning and not immediately seeing him abandoned. But he still was in the mood for a little amusement, so he raised his wand and silently conjured Avis, sending a flock of small, bright green birds fluttering from the section of hedge she was just about to pass.

She couldn’t hear him at first, but every now and then caught a sound behind her. Gabriella was certain that he was following her, but she was being stubborn now, and didn’t want to give in to her concern and look back to make sure he was. That was of course exactly what her husband would be waiting for. She wasn’t going to fall for it. Not this time. She smiled a little to herself, thinking back on their previous conversation with a light heart. Her horse. At Schull. There was so much more room to roam there, although much of it was overgrown gardens. But to have her horse back, to be able to ride again. And they could get Rhiannon a horse as well! She would love to teach the girl to ride… of course they’d have to find someone to come care for them… didn’t Joseph have a son? And perhaps if Iago was going to stay in Italy, she could just bring Joseph back home with her. But that meant she’d have to talk to her brother… all of this meant she’d have to at least write him… and she was dreading that conversation.

Finally reaching the next crossroads, Gabriella looked at each of the symbols carefully, finding the tree and looking down that path. Why hadn’t dermod caught up with her yet? She was convinced he should have by now. Perhaps he was waiting for her to continue. Or come back for him. Damn that infuriating man sometimes. She wasn’t giving into his childish games. Gabriella was going to find an exit to the maze. Either that or it would be lunch time, and since they didn’t bring any food with them, Dermod would be forced to come find her, so he could take her back to the estate and stuff her full of more food. She grinned. It was foolproof. And there was the next crossroads. She could already make out what path had the tree from here---

Gabriella let out a terrified shriek as she was suddenly surrounded by frantically flying bright green birds, her arms flying up to protect and shield her face as she nearly fell into the hedges, scrambling to get away from them. Birds. After the frost. And she was pretty sure these birds didn’t exist, or if they did, it was somewhere tropical. It took a moment for her mind to stop panicking and catch up with what had just happened. “DERMOD” she let out a breath; “LARKIN MORFESSA THAT WAS NOT FUNNY! NOT AT ALL! STOP BEING A PETULANT CHILD!” she had no idea how far away he was from her as she picked herself up off the ground in the circle she was in, brushing herself off almost aggressively.