Our day (plot crowd)

[Cleo Graas]

Cleo murmured quietly, as she turned over to rest on her stomach and wrinkled her nose. Laying on her stomach for a moment, Cleo rubbed sleep out of her eyes, before opening her eyes. A brilliant smile spread over her features at hundreds of tiny white blooms decorating the bed and the room around her. She loved small white flowers and Kris undoubtedly knew it. Cleo touched one of the blooms gently with her finger. She had made sure that Kris would see the dress she was planning to wear today, but these flowers would make a perfect accessory. Pushing the thin sheet off her body gently so as not to damage any of the blooms, Cleo stood and stretched languidly. Pattering across the room, Cleo took a long shower, enjoying the sensation of lukewarm water beating down on her body. It wasn’t every day it was her wedding anniversary, even though she thanked heavens high and above for Kris every day and night. She had never thought that you could love someone else so utterly, so forgivingly, so unconditionally. And then there had been Kris.

Stepping out of the shower, with a softer smile than usual curving her lips, Cleo went to get her clothes. It was a simple white dress. White as a reminiscent of her wedding day. She was far from the innocent shy bride she had been then – a fact she understood now, nearly two decades later. But Kris did make her feel young, despite them having six children, one of whom was engaged, whether he himself accepted it yet or not. Damon and Ashlyn would make a strong couple one day. But today was about her and Kris. Cleo picked the dress up and slipped it on, making sure it fell nicely with a couple of shakes of her hips. It was a delicate dress. This straps brought out the gentle curve of her shoulders and a tight bodice brought attention to her still slim waist. The bodice hugged her every curve, a net of hundreds of miniscule pearls catching one’s eyes with every breath she took and movement she did. The skirt gave a mere hint of her hip-line before falling to her knees, the fabric swirling almost dizzyingly along her legs. Leaning her feet on her make-up table one after another, Cleo slipped on white sandals. The shoes didn’t have heels – they were going to have a picnic, so heels would be impractical – but had straps wrapped up over her ankles and were decorated with the same pearls as the bodice of her dress.

Sitting down before her make-up table, Cleo peered at herself thoughtfully, noticing the door opening from the mirror. Cleo offered a small smile and a light nod to Leandra who poked her head in and watched how the three girls slipped into the room, her daughters having grabbed Layla along from somewhere. “Come in, girls. Layla, there’s a plate with some snacks here, if you haven’t had a chance of eating yet,” Cleo said absent-mindedly, reaching her own hand over and picking up a cheese-cubicle. Leandra brushed her hair while Morgana picked out those blooms that had longer stalks and then they braided the blooms into her hair, Cleo’s vibrant red hair being the perfect background for it. “It’s fairy-stone. According to a legend, it’s supposed to catch good thoughts and words, store them, and shine all the brighter, the more good thoughts there are. If there isn’t any goodness, the stone grows dull. Not sure how true it is, but the stone does glow very softly in the dark,” Cleo explained, noticing Layla peering at a trinket hanging from the corner of a mirror, “The metal bit at the bottom and right side is steel. A protector for the fairy and knight of goodness, in a way I suppose.” Standing, Cleo picked up the trinket tangling on a silver chain and handed it to Layla, a firm nod assuring the girl that she could keep it. “Leandra, you’re too young for that bold tone,” Cleo said, taking her lipstick away from her older daughter.

Applying the red – exact same tone as her hair – to her own lips, Cleo added a silvery white eye-shadow and left her make-up at that. Two pearl studs for earrings and a silver chain that left one pure pearl tangling at the hollow of her neck. Standing, Cleo twirled for a moment with a light smile to the girls: “How do I look?” Even though she knew the answer herself. The flowers and pearls and white made her seem younger, sweeter, more innocent in a way, the pearls served as a reminder hat he was a grown woman and a mother, her hair showed her flame as Kris called it. And when usually she looked good, then today she looked breath-taking. Her hands resting lightly on her daughter’s shoulders, Cleo sent a merry smile at Layla to include her to the group, as she herded the girls out of the rooms and down the hallways. As they reached the entrance hall, Cleo could sense that Kris was there, even before she actually saw her husband. “Excuse me,” Cleo murmured as she stepped around the girls and laid her left hand on the railing. Raising her wand, Cleo hesitated for a moment, mentally looking for a appropriate spell, before sending a powerful searing hex on its way. Only to feel as if the hex had hit herself, as Kris swiftly turned and their eyes met as he blocked the hex.

[Leandra Graas R3]

Leandra stared at her wardrobe with a deep frown. Balancing herself on one leg, she wondered mentally what to wear. She didn’t like skirts. They always got in the way and she wanted to discover a bit at the island. But it was mom’s and dad’s wedding anniversary and there would be other people there as well, so she should look good as well. But then again, there were all sorts of shorts too. A merry grin appeared on Leandra’s face as she grabbed the outfit she had noticed. An costume suit of sorts almost – grey pants and a jacket with subdued white stripes. A wide white leather belt riding low on her hips and a white top with the simplest cut. Placing a hat with a wide white ribbon around the brim on top of her head, and then pushed it slightly forward, so that it tilted playfully over her left eye. Silvery sandals that fit securely, so that she could be sure she wouldn’t loose them even when she ran and Leandra decided she looked suitable enough. Her-ish enough and yet fancy enough for the occasion.

Skipping out of her room Leandra nearly ran into Morgana. “Shall we wake Layla and go see mom?” Leandra suggested merrily as they continued towards Layla’s room together. They didn’t entirely even doubt whether they would be waking Layla or not. Leandra had discovered soon enough that Layla liked to sleep in the mornings as well. But there wasn’t going to be none of that today. It was far too important day for sleeping, even if mom and dad didn’t really advertise the fact it was their wedding anniversary. They always said that it was a private celebration and Leandra found that romantic. Maybe one day she would find someone who would care for her as much as dad cared for mom. “Layla, up with the larks!” Leandra chirped merrily, shoving the door open and hopping in, heading straight to the windows, listening with only half an ear what Morgana and Layla, who had sat up at the intrusion to the room, talked about clothes. Fashion had always been Morgana’s specialty more than her. So Leandra could fully well acquaintance herself to the tray of breakfast old Siry brought to the room.

But soon enough Layla had washed and gotten dressed and Leandra dragged her and Morgana further towards mom and dad’s bedroom. Dad was bound to have gone by now and she wanted to see what mom looked like. Pouncing down the hallways before Layla and Morgana, Leandra was humming to herself with some trouble, as her skipping messed up the tune. Not that it mattered. Pushing an appropriate door open, Leandra peeked in. Catching the nod mom sent her through the mirror; she grabbed someone’s hand from behind her and slipped into the room. “Ohh, cheese,” Leandra grabbed a piece, even though she had snacked in Layla’s room, before picking up mom’s silver-handled brush and slipped it through moms hair, making sure not to pull too hard on any strands of hair. And Morgana was smart, Leandra decided quietly, as she accepted some flowers from her sister. Placing the brush back on the make-up table, Leandra started braiding some of the tin blooms in mom’s head. Once it was almost done, she took a step back and let Morgana take over, so that the flower-net would be the same all over mom’s head.

Putting the tube of lipstick down, Leandra didn’t pout. Mom had said no, so she perhaps was a bit too young. Even though she wanted to be more like her. Dress like her, look like her, act like her. She was the only redhead in the family besides mom. But make-up could come later. Leandra clapped and giggled as mom twirled around: “You look prettier than an Arabian princess in Thousand and one Nights!” Not hugging mom – to make sure the dress would stay as pretty as it was now – Leandra simply beamed up at mom, as she touched her shoulder and walked along the hallways with them. Now that mom was with them, she didn’t even skip anymore. And when mom sent a hex flying towards mom, Leandra simply giggled and hopped from one foot to another merrily as she watched the make-shift duel.

[Morgana Graas S2]

Morgana woke with a snap, even though she didn’t move nor open her eyes. It was still early, she knew that. She always seemed to sense the time better than others. Maybe because the werewolf transformation made her more aware of what her body and senses told her, even if she didn’t have any heightened sense unlike dad. A thing to be thankful for at times she supposed. Twisting around in her bed Morgana squinted her eyes, even though she knew she wouldn’t be seeing anything in the pitch-black of her room. Mom and Leandra liked their rooms light, Rister didn’t want direct sunlight, Gabriel could sleep anyplace anywhere, and Damon and Jared wanted dark-ish rooms. But Morgana needed it to be pitch black, so that you couldn’t see your own fingers if you lifted your hand before your face. A murmured spell awoke the magic and the heavy drapes lifted themselves from before the windows, allowing Morgana to see the face of the clock. She was most likely one of the earliest people up, but most likely not earliest. One of the earliest awakenings probably though. Slipping out of her bed, Morgana slipped into a light summer dress and with her toes curling on the floor, pattered down the hallways towards the breakfast hall. Though she probably shouldn’t have been surprised to see dad and Rister already dining there, even if it was barely 15 minutes after five.

Smiling at his father and oldest brother, Morgana slipped into a seat and absently picked on her breakfast, not bothering to join the conversation. She would have plenty of time to talk later on during the party. Taking a piece of toast and cheese with her, Morgana wandered lazily back towards her room, giggling at an house-elf throwing a tantrum as she went. The house-elves weren’t happy at all over the fact that only humans would be serving the guests at the party. But it was a muggle island. And they had enough humans on the payroll as well and some more would be joining the party on the island as waitresses. All would be well paid for their services certainly. Morgana curled up on a deep armchair under the window with a book for the next coming hours until it was time to get ready, alternating between reading and gazing out of her windows to Rister helping to prepare the horses and the decorated courtyard. She had already decided previously what she would wear so getting dressed wasn’t hard at all.

She donned a gypsy-style skirt. It bared her ankles and the thin silver anklet she placed around her left foot. The background of the dress was black, but the hundreds and thousands of colourful little blossom made the skirt present an interesting and merry whirl around her legs. It was accompanied by a simple pale red corset-type top that bared her shoulders and the sides of her waste. Dangling earrings and a handful of silly summery bracelets on her wrist and she was ready. Walking towards Leandra’s room, Morgana added a couple of red clips to her hair to make sure it wouldn’t stay in her face during the day and that’s why she nearly collided with Leandra. A quick discrete glance assured her that Leandra also looked the part of the family daughter before the two of them continued towards Layla’s room in an unspoken agreement. Leandra hollered at Layla to wake up and as Morgana requested for an house-elf to bring breakfast, it wasn’t hard to coax Layla into waking up. Lazily briefing Layla of the people who would surely be there – the previous Ministry of Magic of Italy, some old aurors, a book-collector, a horse trainer, Dana, numerous others – Morgana absent-mindedly tossed a small colourful scarf at Layla she had been toying with.

Layla seemed more hesitant about stepping into mom and dad’s room than she had seemed about waking up. Not that she had much choice as Morgana prodded her back slightly to be able to enter the room after the younger girl. “Gorgeous,” Morgana muttered, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the flowers. Lowering her nose to a clump she caught a fragrant. It was there, but it was far too delicate for you to capture it if you focused on it. Would someone ever care enough for her, despite the beast in her, to even bring her flowers that showed the message from the heart? Choosing the flowers with the longest stems, Morgana walked over to mom as well, swiftly starting to braid the delicate flowers into the firey mane of hair. “You do look great mom,” Morgana said in a bit more subdued way than Leandra, but with no less feeling in it, letting themselves be ushered out of the room and down towards the main door. Giggling quietly, Morgana touched Layla’s shoulder as she explained in a quiet whisper: “According to aunt Dana, mom and dad always fought after they first met. Both are stubborn so it’s a re-enact of their first meeting in a way I think. Though I doubt they ended in a kiss then.”

[Damon Graas R5]

Damon downed the last remains of the cup of coffee and then stared morosely at the empty cup. He didn’t entirely feel satisfied. But perhaps he should limit himself with 6 cups right now. Or was it 7? Didn’t matter. The yawn that overtook him still threatened to break his jaw. Rubbing the back of his head sleepily, Damon pulled on simple clothes. A pair of black slacks. Pale blue shirt that faintly remembered him of Ashlyn’s eyes, would he care to be poetic. It was far too early to be up and annoyingly chirpy, Damon grumbled moodily under his breath as he exited his room and sauntered to the room right next to it. “It’s morning!” Damon complained loudly, carelessly slamming the door open as he sauntered into Ashlyn’s room, “Mornings should start some 4-5 hours later, then I would bother to deal with them. Sary! Breakfast for Ashlyn. And Coffee!” The house-elf appeared instantly, but only to stare at Damon with unwavering eyes: “I’m sorry, Damon, but mistress Cleo reinstalled the firm rules not to let you have more than 8 cups of coffee in the morning.” Oh. The cup had been number 8. “Ashlyn will drink the coffee,” Damon snapped, sending a moody glare at the house-elf who disappeared after a hesitant glance at Ashlyn.

“I’m being bullied by the house-elves. Pathetic,” Damon grumbled, yawning again as he drew the curtains, “Does the bond make it seem like I’m awake yet? No. I need coffee.” Meeting Ashlyn’s eyes peering at him over the edge of the blanket with some surprise, Damon grumbled at the surprise he could read in Ashlyn’s eyes: “I can get up if needed. I just prefer not to usually.” The breakfast tray reappeared and moving faster than expected Damon snatched up the cup of coffee cup and took a long draining sip, almost burning his tongue and lips in the process. But it was well worth it to feel the dark liquidy gold flow down his throat. Closing his eyes in pure bliss, Damon let out a content sigh, a smile appearing on his face. Only to be replaced with a scowl as the cup was wrenched away from his grasp. “Not you too!” Damon muttered sulkily, shoving his hands in his pockets and growling quietly at Ashlyn as she took a sip of coffee. Ashlyn seemed merely amused and not at all willing to share the coffee, so Damon sighed and watched for a moment how she shuffled across the room towards the bathroom. With the blissful coffee.

Letting the girl – who had at least been efficiently been woken up – scoot to hide behind the closed door, Damon stretched lazily. Lowering himself to sit on the bed, Damon yawned and let himself drop backwards, stretching again on the bed. His eyes closing lazily, Damon smiled lightly as the smell, so unique to Ashlyn, wafted around him. His chest rose and fell slowly and Damon wondered if he should get back up before he slipped off to sleep again so he wasn’t entirely ready for the smack landing on his ribcage. “Ow,” Damon muttered but didn’t bother to open his eyes until an other smack landed. “Violent aren’t you,” Damon grumbled as he cracked his eyes open and peered up at Ashlyn, “Pretty sight though.” Catching Ashlyn’s hand, Damon lifted it to his lips before rising to his feet again and smiling at Ashlyn. Even though he had the sense enough not to ask if he’d see her in bikinis today. Tilting his head, Damon sent an insolent grin to Ashlyn, arching his eye-brows playfully: “You weren’t sleeping anymore so that you would be lost to the world… so I just put your bed to good use.”

But despite his playful words, Damon pulled himself to sit up and rolled gracefully to his feet. “Ready to go?” Damon questioned softly, holding his hand out for Ashlyn to take, leading her through the hallways towards the main doors, knowing that they would be mounting and leaving from the courtyard. Not that it was a calm sight right now. Wrapping his arm around Ashlyn’s waist, Damon grinned at his parents, watching how they locked themselves in an embrace and a kiss as dad ran up the stairs, deftly blocking the quite serious hexes sent toward him on the way. “They look good,” Damon murmured to himself as much as Ashlyn as he steered him down the other side of the staircase, grinning quite boyishly at the display of affection put forth by his parents.

[Kris Graas]

Kris kissed Cleo’s brows – settled in a light frown at whatever she was dreaming of – and retreat swiftly, letting his wife wake in her own time. He would have plenty of opportunities to kiss her yet today. And it would be a memorable day. All days were, when he had her by his side. He dressed quickly and quietly, having done so dozens of times before. Pair of black silk pants, his signature black shirt with iron chains keeping the cuffs together and a detailed wolf’s head adorning and gathering the collar. Slipping out of the room, Kris nodded at the house-elf waiting there patiently. The house-elf kept pace with him, quietly informing Kris of how the preparations for the party were going and other small details that had to be handled daily while Kris simply pointed out orders when needed. Not that there was much for him to tell. Everything had been sorted and everything worked smoothly. Even if the house-elves were holding their breaths in hopes that he would say some of them at least could come and serve at the island.

“Flowers. In Cleo’s room,” was the only order he actually gave the house-elf, handing the elf an example bloom of the flowers he meant. He saw the old carekeeper next, who assured him that the servants for the party had already left and everything was set. The stable hands were also doing their work, the horses being groomed and brushed and cleaned, the 4 Ashlyn and Ellisons would take had saddles waiting before their stalls. “Nothing for you to do, old man?” the tone of voice was teasing and Kris tilted his head lightly to smile at his oldest son who leaned on the fence next to him. “Who are you calling old, punk?” Kris questioned mockingly, shoving his son lightly with one arm. Rister laughed and at both straightened up and in companionable silence walked around the castle and the nearest grounds before retreating back to the castle and breakfast where Morgana joined them.

Kris and Rister simply loitered in the breakfast hall, laughing as Damon stumbled in with prayers for coffee on his lips, laughing at Gabriel complaining about a bad hair day, laughing because life was good. There wasn’t much to be done today. Too late to get start with some bigger plan, too early to start going yet. So they spend the time talking and grinning. And when the time came they headed to the entrance hall to wait for the girls. He sensed Cleo before he saw her. Knew her intention before he saw the slight widening of Rister’s eyes. His wand was out and he worded the spell in the middle of turning around, blocking the strong hex flying his way, sparks flashing to the ceiling of the hall as the hex hit the protective barrier he had raised. His wrist flicked, his wand drawing out complex patterns in the air as he blocked the curses flying his way, even as he walked forward, hurrying up the stair-case with two steps at a time, Cleo slowly walking down the stairs to meet him. And when he reached her, one of his arms gripping her waist, the other supporting her neck as his lips met hers in a passionate kiss, he was home.

[Gabriel Graas S4]

Gabriel tugged on his hair as he gazed into his wardrobe. Such a wide choice of clothes, wasn’t it? There was black and then there was black and a bit more black. Should he wear black or black today? Or perhaps, maybe he should try for a change? Smirking at himself – he actually didn’t even mind wearing black. It looked good on him – Gabriel reached a hand into the wardrobe and pulled out a pair of black jeans with black embroidery hiding the seams at the sides. Choosing a shirt to wear was a bit trickier, but in the end he decided to just take it easy and grabbed a sleeveless T-shirt. Shoving his feet in black shoes, Gabriel spent the next 5 minutes having a battle with his hair, before giving it up as mission impossible. Stepping out of the room Gabriel headed off towards the rooms of the Ellison twins, passing a sleep and coffee intoxicated Damon on the way, as his odler brother was heading towards Damon’s room. His knuckles skimmed the door to Keegan’s room before he stepped in without awaiting a girl. He discovered both of the twins in the room, sleepy but awake. “Breakfast. Order here or come to the breakfast hall. We’re off in about 30 minutes,” Gabriel told the pair for the door, before turning on his heel and heading his own advice – breakfast.

Finding his father and Rister in the breakfast hall, Gabriel complained good-naturedly about his bad hair day, knowing it would prompt laughter as it did. Gabriel left the hall after having eaten quickly, recalling he had left the camera in his room. It was miniature, small enough to fit in his pocket without drawing attention. But it was a professional camera and Gabriel knew for a fact that he would be the only one who would take any pictures at the party. Leaving his room again with the camera securely in his pocket, Gabriel reached the entrance hall just in time to see mom and dad enter a kiss. A wolf-whistle wafted up to them from where Rister stood, even as Gabriel smirked, sauntering past his parents: “Easy, you two. You’re embarrassing Keegan here.” Having anticipated it, Gabriel managed to avoid the backhanded swat dad sent his way as he continued down the stairs, a smirk appearing on his lips as an accord sounded behind him before it turned into a full-blown rock song. The King himself – suitable occasion for the situation, Gabriel supposed.

Jumping down the remaining 5 steps he still had before him, Gabriel threw his arms up, shaking his heaps in accordance to the beat Jared was drumming out on his guitar. His sisters were busy with Layla, Ashlyn was glued to Damon’s side and vice versa, he doubted the twins were up to dancing. So Gabriel laughed, shimmying his way to meet Rister and clasping hands with him for a moment in a make-shift dance. A quiet exchange of nods and he and Rister turned at the same moment so that they were back-to-back and with a slightly off-key timing they shimmied down to near-crouch together. Bowing in response to the laughter and applause from the rest, Gabriel turned and stepped out into the courtyard. Absently offering his arm as a leverage to Morgana as she clambered up to her hose, Gabriel seated himself on his own snowy mare and reined himself to follow mom and dad out of the courtyard and towards the party.

[Jared Graas R4]

Jared cracked an eye open and peered hazily at a clock hanging on the wall next to the door at the opposite end of the room. Time to get up most likely. He wasn’t that overly sleepy anymore really, but he was still feeling lazy. But today was for mom and dad, so Jared sat and then stood. Wandering over to the bathroom, he showered and brushed his teeth, mentally going over some music he could sign today. He had no doubt he would be singing. But for now, he pulled on a pair of white jeans and a light-grey short-sleeved button-up shirt and simple sneakers. Slipping the leathery band of his guitar over his head – taking the case too would be too hard – Jared slipped his harmonica in his pocket and stepped out of the room. He dropped by the breakfast hall and had a swift breakfast. Sauntering to the entrance hall as well when the time was right, Jared enjoyed the sight of his parents duelling and kissing. One day, he’d find someone like that for himself as well. But for now, Jared shifted the guitar to his front and started drumming out a beat belonging to Elvis Presley. Fast-paced rock with a hint of romance was suitable enough for now. Singing along to the tune, Jared snickered at the sight Rister and Gabriel presented, as he seated himself on the railing and glided down.

Stepping out of the hall, Jared squinted his eyes slightly towards the sun for a moment before moving swiftly to his horse. Patting the animal’s nose in a greeting, Jared hoisted himself up and followed the rest out of the courtyard. Shifting his guitar to rest on his back again, Jared switched lightly between random songs from Presley and Beatles and Rolling Stones and anything else similar that seemed to fit, his siblings occasionally joining in when they came upon a song they were more familiar with. The riding trip wasn’t overly long. Took just a bit over an hour to come down to the shore where a boat was already waiting along with some of the servants. Jared dismounted, throwing the reins to the stable-hands present as he peered around. Well, the weather was nice, the place look good, and mom and dad were bound to have made sure the night was going to be a success. “Boat for you,” dad informed Jared gruffly with a light smack at the back of his head, “And keep that guitar of yours busy. You can sit at the nose, wouldn’t put the ladies there anyway.” Jared made a slight grimace towards dad, finished unbuttoning the buttons of his shirt and waded over to the boat to seat himself where he had been directed to, tossing Leandra’s hat on top of his own head as Leandra was already stripping into swimming-wear as well.

Everyone that were planning to swim to the island positioned their shoes and shirts in the boat, the seats of the boat were filled. Dad and Rister hooked their hands on the edge of the boat, pulling it swiftly into the water for the first time. Catching Layla’s eyes widening slightly at the pattern of scars crossing over dad’s back, Jared smiled at the young girl. He could guess what caught her attention – the four deep slashes that started on dad’s stomach and circled around his left side over nearly half of his back. Deep, straight gashes that still looked dangerous as while the skin had covered the wounds, they had never grown any scar tissue. “Dragon-claws,” Jared told Layla lightly, watching her eyes widen eyen more, “Dad was slightly suicidal in his first years in Hogwarts. The rest of the scars have appeared over years and he can probably tell you the origin best. Well, competing with mom.” Turning his head slightly, Jared caught Ashlyn’s eye and grinned widely at her: “You’ll be delighted to know dad’s far crazier than Damon, even though Damon makes a good impression as well.” Jared only snickered as he was soaked with a couple of splashes form the swimmers at that, “Easy dad. Guitar, remember? You’re the one who sent me to the comforts of the boat.” Jared grinned wickedly, even if dad’s smirk promised retaliation at the later moment.

[Rister Graas S6]

Rister woke early as always. There were a number of people who grumbled and wondered how he did it, but Rister always smiled mystically in response. He wasn’t even sure himself. But he was used to getting up before dawn – usually at 4 AM – ever since he was a child. It certainly had it’s effect on him too. He was generally the first of the older Slytherins to be in bed, even though he could easily stay up during nights as well. And sometimes he caught up on sleep with naps during classes he skipped. Besides, there ere mornings he slept in well enough, sometimes until midday. Never while he was at home, though. This was home and the place he would one day have to rule. Duty rested here. Rister slipped out of the bed soundlessly and headed off for a quick shower. No specific dress code had been set, but Rister knew his obligations. He was the heir and he would have to be presentable, so he took care to look casual but classy. Black silk pants and a dark green shirt. And for the occasion, Rister opened the heavily enchanted jewel-box and slipped his signet ring on his finger. Tying his hair into a low pony-tail at the nape of his neck with a ribbon in the same shade of dark green as his blouse, Rister deemed himself ready. A glance out of his windows assured Rister that despite the early hour, dad was still up. His feet carried him down the hallways swiftly but soundlessly, as Rister exited and went to join his father.

It had became a bit of a tradition. Every morning when they were home in Italy, they would walk. A circle around the castle and stables. They walked alone when the other wasn’t there, but if he was in Italy, he walked the circle. Perhaps it was a tradition based on magic as old as time. Since people gained feelings. A sort of spell. A circle of protection. Their domain they looked over every morning to fix, look over, praise or admonish, to protect. With dad’s hand resting on his shoulder as if Rister were still 4 year old and dad guided his first steps around the castle and in the near forests. Were he anyone else, Rister would have turned and smiled at his father, perhaps hugged him even, maybe even asked in a childish tone if he had done good. But as he was him, he just glanced at his father, who glanced back with the faintest hint of a content smile on his face. And it was enough for Rister to straighten up by one more fraction with pride. He joined dad to the breakfast hall, both having a healthy breakfast, even as the rest entered and left. And then Rister accompanied his father to the entrance hall when the time came. His eyes widened by just a fraction when mom appeared at the balustrade the floor up with a wand in his hand. And Rister cautiously took a step back when sparks from the collision of his parent’s spells showered down dangerously near him. Even if it felt good to see dad nearly run up the stairs and her parents locking in a tight embrace. One day, he would have his own wife to care for that much. But for now he let out a loud wolf-whistle that wafted towards his parents almost insolently.

And then the rest were there as well. Damon with his hand resting on Ashlyn’s back, his sisters with Layla, the Ellison twins trailing down behind Gabriel and Jared sliding down the banister with the wild calls of his guitar. He didn’t entirely adore dancing perhaps to enjoy it as much as Gabriel did, but he could pick up on his brother’s motives easily enough. And it would make mom laugh. His arms raising just like Gabriel’s, Rister shook his hips and rear, dancing for a moment with Gabriel, before they shimmied down to the floor with their backs against each other. Gabriel bowed for the laughing ovation, Rister fixed the cuff of his shirt and smirked before slipping into the court-yard. Jared helped Morgana on the horse, Gabriel kept an eye on the twins, and Damon was assisting Ashlyn. Curving his palsm into a step Rister stepped to Layla: “Step on my hands and from there to the saddle.” As Layla followed the instruction, Rister absently brushed his palms clean and mounted his own horse, keeping pace with the rest very easily as they headed to the shore. Leandra was the first one to the sea. Dad sent Jared to the boat to play, the rest of his brothers and Rister himself shrugged off their shirts and shoes and slipped into the water as well. The boat was enchanted so the pull to get it to the sea wasn’t hard, even with Jared, mom, Morgana, and those Ellisons who had decided against swimming sitting in it. Rister snorted at Jared’s mock, even as Jared picked up his guitar again: “I’ll order a marching band that plays differently off-key for your funeral after that, brother-of-mine.” Only for Rister himself to be suddenly dunked under the water as dad flashed his way and submerged him under his weight.