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Post by Évariste&Marie Skipit on Nov 1, 2007 11:42:43 GMT -5
Marie took care of her grandson in the night, waking in the morning smiling at the thought of taking care of a child again after so many years. If she had been able, but in the end she only had her son. She walked out of her bedroom and through her sitting room to begin breakfast. As she and the house elf made breakfast, her monitoring charm went off.
"Finish the rest of this please." she said as she removed her apron, she left leaving magically flying dishes and pans in the the house elf's capable hands.
she climbed the stairs to Voltaire's room and heard the baby's cry. She smiled, maybe at her age, it wasn't such an unpleasant sound.
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Post by Conor Ethan on Nov 1, 2007 11:48:13 GMT -5
Conor was not pleased, he was wet and hungry, but at last he felt he was near his mommy and another really nice lady! Not to mention the man that reminded him of the stinky man he met before, but the voice was familar. He was scooped up and taken care of and left very happy. He gurgled and did a smile, pleased that he heard happy coos from the the nice lady.
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Post by Évariste&Marie Skipit on Nov 6, 2007 18:30:26 GMT -5
Marie smiled and cooed at her grandson as she lifted him from his blankets. "Oh what a brave little boy we have here!" she said as she laid him down again and changed his nappy and gave his clothing a good cleaning with her wand. She was sure the cotton clothing felt much better clean than soiled from the previous nights escape, and not adding that it was a confusing night as well. "Ah my Brave little man! What else can we do for you and your mummy?" she asked checking if Isabella was alright and still sleeping or awake, which might be the case.
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Post by Isabella Rothschild on Nov 6, 2007 18:42:08 GMT -5
Isabella slept fitfully. She ached all over and couldn't seem to get comfortable, yet it still hurt to move. She kept dreaming horrible dreams, of Voldemort turning Voltaire against her and torturing Conor, and sometimes just standing over her and laughing. "Voltaire," she whispered in her sleep, and reached out to the empty space above her.
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Post by Évariste&Marie Skipit on Nov 6, 2007 18:55:37 GMT -5
Marie sighed and laid her grandson down, which he did not like, and shook Isabella awake. "Isabella! Come on dear." she said as she placed a hand on her daughter in law's furrowed brow.
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Post by Isabella Rothschild on Nov 6, 2007 19:06:49 GMT -5
Isabella stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Everything was blurry. "Voltaire?" she croaked. As her eyes began to focus, she recognized Marie and managed a weak smile. "Hi," she said.
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Post by Évariste&Marie Skipit on Nov 6, 2007 20:17:01 GMT -5
"It's alright dear." Marie said as she scooped up her now wailing grandson. "Would you like Breakfast here? or down stairs? I'm sure it should be done by now." she rocked her grandson in an attempt at soothing him. He didn't seem to be liking anything he was eating, far fussier than he was a moment ago.
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Post by Isabella Rothschild on Nov 9, 2007 23:22:50 GMT -5
Isabella tried to sit up, but found she was still weak. "I... I'd better stay here," she said tiredly. She reached out her hand toward the baby. "How is he? He sounds like he's fussy. Can I hold him for a bit?" Her arms positively ached to hold her son again.
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Post by Évariste&Marie Skipit on Nov 13, 2007 18:03:29 GMT -5
Marie smiled at Isabella and said "I see no harm in holding him, but you tell me as soon as you can't bare his weight anymore." she said as she placed her fussy grandson in his mother's arms. "I'll get some breakfast sent up soon too." she said as she went to the door. "I'll wake the boys."
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Post by Isabella Rothschild on Nov 17, 2007 0:11:24 GMT -5
Isabella cradled her son against her chest, bracing her elbows against the pillow for stability. "Oh, my baby," she whispered. "Conor... I'm so sorry about what happened to you. I wish I could have protected you from those bad people. And I know your daddy wishes the same thing. I blamed him for what happened, but the truth is, it wasn't his fault. They were going to take you away, no matter what, and if they hadn't done it then, they would have found some other time. And it could have happened to me just the same." She pressed a kiss against his soft forehead. "None of that matters now... it just matters that you're safe, and that your daddy and I are here for you. And we love you so much..." A tear streamed down her cheek. "Just like I love your daddy. I just hope I can find a way to make him believe that."
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Post by Évariste&Marie Skipit on Nov 18, 2007 18:28:52 GMT -5
Marie went on her way to wake her husband and son. It wasn't long before they both were up and washing their puffed sleepy faces from the last visages of sleep, although Voltaire still looked exhausted. With a tray balancing on the tip of her wand, she made her way back to the bedroom where Isabella and Connor were. "Here you are dear." she said as she set down the tray on a near by nightstand. She saw the tears on her daughter's face and said "There there, it will work out dearest." patting her consolingly.
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Post by Isabella Rothschild on Nov 19, 2007 23:11:59 GMT -5
"I... I wish I could be so sure," Isabella said, frowning. "I'm afraid I might have ruined everything." Tears streamed down her face and she was too tired to brush them away. "I don't know if he can forgive me for what I said... or if I can forgive myself."
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Post by Évariste&Marie Skipit on Dec 20, 2007 12:03:02 GMT -5
Marie shook her head. No matter how much she assured Voltaire would see reason, she seemed mired in thoughts of despair. "Forgiveness is the only thing we can offer ourselves child. Let your heart be lifted, be there no sorrow." she said reaching out a hand and placing it on her grandson's head. "He feels you, as you feel. After all, he's directly on your heart." she said reaching over to wipe the tears away."
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Post by Isabella Rothschild on Dec 24, 2007 1:22:54 GMT -5
Isabella cuddled her son closer to her. Somehow she felt stronger with the baby in her arms, like a piece of her had been broken and was now mended. It would have been better if Voltaire had also been by her side, holding her hand. "Have you talked to him yet today?" she asked softly. "I can't stand not knowing what he's thinking or feeling."
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Post by Évariste&Marie Skipit on Feb 12, 2008 17:26:28 GMT -5
Marie nodded, "Only briefly while I woke him up, He looks exhausted still. A few more days of rest for the both of you, while you both mend and you should be fine to go back to the school." She made to take her grandson out of Isabella's arms "Only while you eat darling. the stronger you are the longer you could hold him." she soothed. " Voltaire loves you Isabella." she said floating the tray over her lap so she could eat.
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Post by Isabella Rothschild on Feb 12, 2008 19:19:05 GMT -5
Isabella nodded slowly and, with great effort, sat up. She picked up the tray and started to eat slowly. "I know he loves me... if only he can remember it." She didn't want to tell her mother-in-law that Voltaire had gone back to Tai Lee, so she said nothing. More than anything, she wanted to talk to Voltaire, to find that part of him that was connected with her. Without that connection, she felt terribly alone.
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Post by Évariste&Marie Skipit on Feb 12, 2008 20:54:15 GMT -5
Marie sighed softly, there was a worry in Isabella's brow that bothered her, She'd find out eventually what it was . She made a note to make an extra fortifying meal for lunch and supper. She wondered if she hadn't been lucky after all, not being blessed with a large flock of children, but rather just one that acted he was a large flock of children, along with any and all problems that could of been contained within them.
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Post by Isabella Rothschild on Feb 12, 2008 23:25:02 GMT -5
Isabella was silent for a while as she slowly ate her breakfast. She kept thinking about Voltaire and the horrible things she had said to him that day when she's learned that Conor had been taken. It brought to mind some of the horrible fights her parents had when she was a child. Her mother would shriek and yell and say nasty, vile things to her father, using words that Isa hadn't even understood at the time. Her father would fight back, but with his cool, menacing tone, that showed he wasn't shaken by her words. In the end, there would be broken glass, slamming doors, and weeks of silent treatment between them. It seemed not unlike what had happened between her and Voltaire. Only difference was that Voltaire didn't fight back... he was hurt. He crawled away like a wounded animal. But the accusations, the shrieking, and the silence... they were the same. Isabella sighed and put down her fork, her meal only half-finished.
"Marie," she said at last, "do you fight with Evariste very often? What is it like, and how do you make up again?"
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Post by Évariste&Marie Skipit on Feb 14, 2008 16:04:34 GMT -5
Marie adjusted the blankets around Conor, she considered the question and said "It was normally about money, how to spend it, what's really needed, that sort of thing. The few times we fought over things like how to raise Voltaire, or what we needed to do to correct his behavior, we made sure not to do that in front of him, we had that agreed upon. I wanted to shelter him from everything, I accused Evariste of exposing him to everything vile and evil on a daily basis. Now that I think on it, we fought much like children, name calling or tantrums." she smiled as she thought of herself the dark haired twenty-seven year old she had been stamping her feet in anger like a twelve year old girl. "Oh he would pout spectacularly when I would put my foot down. I believe it's genetic on his side of the family." she laughed. "We made up usually when he would start to laugh, he had the tendency to find me beautiful when angry, or at least funny. The worst fights we had we'd make up because I think we missed each other, even if we didn't agree or drove each other mad."
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Post by Isabella Rothschild on Feb 14, 2008 22:56:57 GMT -5
Isabella smiled softly and closed her eyes. "Sometimes, I envy Voltaire for having you as his parents," she said. My parents, when they fought, it was an epic affair. Their shouts could be heard in every room of the house. My mother would throw glasses and vases and even furniture, and they'd just shatter. It was all so... ugly. I learned to run and hide outside with the house elves whenever they started. And after it was over, they wouldn't speak. One time they didn't speak to each other for a whole month. They didn't care what I heard or saw.... they didn't care about me at all." She sighed and brushed away a single tear. "Voltaire doesn't even realize how lucky he is to have had you. I only hope that I can find a way to fix what I broke. I don't want to become like... her..." She shuddered. "I love him so much it hurts."
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