REFUGE

[Voltaire Rothschild]

"I can't!" he blurted out before he could really think of what to say, what really he thought offended him about the woman in his bed. He turned and left the room. This line of conversation hurt him, He didn't want to think about what had happened, or why he couldn't let it go.

[Isabella Rothschild]

Isabella heard him walk out. It sounded now as if he remembered what had happened between them, but she wasn't sure. All she knew was that she hated herself for the things that she had said to him. She needed him here with her. Though she still couldn't move, she felt a tiny tear trickle down her cheek.

[Évariste&Marie Skipit]

Marie sighed aggravated that her son was being so stubborn. She placed a hand on her husband to keep him with her in the room with his daughter in law. Marie walked over to the bed and placed her fretting grandson, noticing the tears that tracked down her face.

she sat down at the edge of the bed, Évariste stood at the foot of the bed. They looked at her sadly and Marie asked gently, "Isabella, what exactly is going on? Please tell me, I thought I'd never have to see Voltaire act this way again." her voice wavered a little.

[Isabella Rothschild]

Isabella looked at her son, feeling the tears slide down her face. With great effort, she reached out her hand and touched her son's tiny foot. It felt so good just to see him and know that he was safe, but she longed to hold him. She knew it would be a while before she would be strong enough to do that.

She turned her head slightly and looked at Marie. "When Conor... was taken..." she whispered, "I said... horrible things to Voltaire... I didn't mean them... but I hurt him. So he... forgot me..."

[Évariste&Marie Skipit]

Évariste's brows came together " He forgot you? over as something as simple as a few angry words?" disappointment and disgust rose in Evariste, first his son became a dualist, then a deatheater, and now a husband. All of these things it seemed to him, as his son became disenchanted by the action of them or the ideals of them, he either left or gave up. In Isabella's case, he gave up on her over the matter of a few words. "I have never been so disappointed in him, This is low, even for him." he sneered, turning away from his daughter in law.

Marie looked at her husband and said "Evariste! you know Voltaire has always cared for how other's speak of him! It must of hurt him terribly!" she turned back to Isabella and said "Voltaire, when he was younger, couldn't stand to be made fun of, or even scolded by Evariste." she paused, looking at her husbands' apparent stoicism, looking back at Isabella she continued, "As he got older, he let it show less and less, maybe he thought he didn't have to hide from you." she said taking up Isabella's hands. "I'll get you a spot of warm tea." she said standing. She went to her husbands side and put a hand on his elbow, her eyes saying everything to him, then she left the room to go to the kitchen.

Evariste looked down for a moment, ashamed he judged his son so harshly and so quickly. He blinked away some moisture in his eyes and asked "Do you love him?" voice thicker with his French accent due to his emotion.

[Isabella Rothschild]

Isabella sniffled. "Yes," she said. "I love him very much. Please... I need him to know that. What I said... it was wrong and cruel, and I'd take it back if I could..."

[Évariste&Marie Skipit]

Evariste cleared his throat and turned to look at his miserable daughter in law. "I believe I tried to hard to make him a strong man, Instead of making him stronger, it seems I gave him a weakness." he put his hands behind his back, and brought one forward again with a silk handkerchief. He bent over the bed and dried his daughter in law's eyes. "I don't know many words of comfort, but I have faith that you'll make him understand that, Voltaire will tell you, this is as warm as I get." he said with the ghost of a smile much like his son's on his face. "Rest, I'll fetch Marie." he said escaping momentarily.

[Isabella Rothschild]

Isabella almost smiled. Evariste was a good man, she felt, and despite his proclaimed coldness, she still thought him warmer and more caring than her own father had ever been. It was strange, really, how Voltaire would learn to be sensitive to the words of others from his father, who sought to teach him to be strong. Meanwhile, her own father had somehow managed to teach her not to care what others thought of her, and in fact, to treat others with coldness.

But she didn't want to be like her father. She remembered how miserable she had been, how lonely and unloved. She would not do that, not to her husband or to her son. She supposed both she and Voltaire were going to have to learn to change a little if they were to make their marriage work. And she wanted it to work, more than anything in the world.

Tiredly, Isabella closed her eyes and tried to think about what to say to Voltaire.

[Évariste&Marie Skipit]

Marie climbed up the steps, huffing about what cowards she had for men in her home. "never would of thought I'd ever deal with two not just one emotionally blocked knuckle head! for heaven's sake!" she said as she bustled into the room with a tray of tea and honey cakes. She spotted Isabella's tried look and clucked "oh come now sweety, it'll work out! here, have a warm cake and tea." she said as she sat down next to her, setting the tea and cakes on a table she winked into existence.

[Isabella Rothschild]

Isabella smiled weakly. "Thank the gods for you, Marie," she sighed. "I'm so glad I wound up here when I touched the locket." She tried to move and let out a groan of pain. Looking at the tea and cakes hungrily, she said, "Could you help me sit up? It still hurts to move." She frowned worriedly. She hoped that Voldemort's spell had been quick enough that she would not suffer the memory problems that Voltaire was struggling with.

[Évariste&Marie Skipit]

Marie smiled and waved more pillows behind her Daughter. She stood up and adjusted them so she could be comfortable. "What happened Isabella? Tonight? I know the Dark Lord was involved, but to what extent was it? what purpose did he have to take your son? to wound you like that?" she said pouring cups of tea for Isabella and herself.

[Isabella Rothschild]

Isabella sighed. "I guess he wanted to hurt us for betraying him... by taking our son and raising him as his own. Maybe even turn him against us. I don't know." She lifted the tea cup to her lips and took a small sip. Her hand was shaking, so she set it down quickly. "I asked a friend of mine--Charles, the one whose corpse I brought back--to help me find Conor. He was still working for the Death Eaters, and he was able to gain the Dark Lord's trust and find out where Conor was being kept. He brought me to him tonight. Voltaire found out from someone else, and we ran into each other here. We broke in and took the baby, Voldemort found out and fired a killing curse at me." She felt suddenly breathless, and began to cough heavily. "Charles stepped in front of me and took the curse. I fought with Voldemort, and I was injured... I used the necklace to get here. Only Voltaire can tell you what happened next."

[Évariste&Marie Skipit]

Marie nodded. "I'll ask him in the morning, after such a fight, you both must be exhausted...Even my Grandson seems to be sleeping it off." she said gazing at his little body and his small chest rose and fell with his breath. "That man, must of loved you Isabella." she said as she set a small cake on a plate for Isabella and herself. "We covered and composed him." she added as she set the cake to float next to Isabella.

[Isabella Rothschild]

Isabella looked over at her son. "He looks well... better than I was expecting. I guess Voldemort didn't mistreat him, at least. Oh, I ached without my son, and my husband..." She closed her eyes for a minute, then took the cake from the air and took a small bite. "Charles... he loved me since we were children. But I never loved him back. And yet, he still was willing to die for me..." Tears filled her eyes.

[Évariste&Marie Skipit]

Marie patted Isabella kindly. " We don't get to choose with whom we fall in love it that , I believe, is an illusion." she took a sip of tea " What we do get to choose, is what we do with our lives. He chose, in the end, to protect you. That makes him a good man." she looked at her grandson and smiled "Very lucky, He was born under a good star." she said serenely.

[Isabella Rothschild]

Isabell ate a little more of her cake. "I love Voltaire very much, no matter what I said to him. I wish I could take it all back... I was just so scared..."

[Évariste&Marie Skipit]

"You'll both grow from the experience, Don't let Evariste and I fool you any dear, but Marriage means arguing a great deal, sometimes at great length and sometimes even to great extremes." she closed her eyes and smiled at a memory. "Once Evariste came home late from an evening with his friends, Voltaire was barely a week old and I hexed him into the next week, Oh he felt justified that he cloud come and go and he pleased, but eventually he and I came to an accord, He never missed his curfew after that week." she opened her eyes and took a bite of cake. "When you're as old as I am, even this, will become just another funny story. At the time, I thought everything was ending." she said with a laugh. "I believe it will, because you love him."

[Isabella Rothschild]

Isabella sniffled. "It's all so hard... I didn't grow up in a loving family... I never got to see two people who loved each other and were committed to each other. My parents most played mind games with each other and used me as a pawn." She shook her head. "Sometimes, I fear that I may turn into them... I don''t want to be like that... to put Voltaire or Conor through the things I went thrugh..."

[Évariste&Marie Skipit]

Marie smiled sadly, "Now now, there isn't a need to cry, You won't do what your parents did, You are against that sort of behavior aren't you? Don't fret about how hard it can be. Think of only how easy it is." Marie said taking another bite of cake. "You are safe here...and you know it, or else you wouldn't of picked here to escape too," she smiled and put a hand on the necklace that hung around Isabella's neck "He loves you, or else he wouldn't of risked my wrath at taking that without permission."

[Isabella Rothschild]

Isabella ate a little more of her cake. "But this is a sign of how things could be... something goes wrong and I say horrible things to him and blame him for everything.... it's the kind of thing my mother would do..." she shuddered in revulsion. "And how could he forget me?"