Meeting the parents, Take One (Layla, Lita, Merry)

[Rister Graas S6]

“Home,” Rister murmured softly as the slender white towers of his home castle appeared before the stark jagged cliffs covered with fir trees so dark they seemed almost black from distance in the background. He had always loved his home, but even putting that aside the image of slender white towers of his home were a picture out of a fairy-tale, especially in its surroundings. The ancestor that had had the castle built had been a certified madman to build such a building here in the 15th century, but a madman with a good eye for beauty. Few were unmoved by the appearance of the Graas family home. The same fond smile was etched on Lita’s face as she leaned closer to the window of the charmed Ministry car Rister had weaselled for them in the Italian Ministry of Magic. There were some perks to having a relative as the Deputy Minister. Actually organising the transport to Italy had been rather easy. As he had guessed international portkey queues were too long, so they had sat onto a private plane as a relative was ferrying his business partners to Italy. The flight had been fast and smooth with the relative and his business partners dealing with their papers, Lita and Merry conversing quietly whereas Rister had stretched out his legs and taken up a boardgame with Layla, not having any problems keeping up the conversation where his only replies where slight nods and shakes of her head and an occasional smile. Once the plane had landed Rister sideapparated Merry to the Italian ministry – as she hadn’t been there before – and Lita took Layla and they had reached the car that was carrying them to his home in 20 minutes. The only quiet moment had came when Meredith had questioned why they couldn’t’ floo or apparate directly to Rister’s home. Lita had tossed a tortured look at Rister who had merely studied Meredith wordlessly for a moment. “The castle and its grounds are blocked from both floo network and apparitions about as well as Hogwarts,” Lita had explained after a moment of silence, “Gabriel’s a supermodel or as close to it is as possible, Jared’s a popular singer, Damon has his businesses and Rister is, well, Rister.” “Leandra was kidnapped from the grounds when she was eight. We got her back in 16 hours, but she was abused. She has whip-scars on her back,” Rister trailed his finger down Layla’s back to show Merry where, “She had a concussion, broken bones, dislocated joints. She doesn’t have any recollections of her life before the morning after we managed to get her back. Dad wasn’t going to take any chances after that.” Lita had blinked at Rister in surprise, as while not a secret this wasn’t something the family spread widely enough, but Rister had merely shrugged. This knowledge would give her some insight into Dad and their family and Meredith would need it today. But for now, Rister shook the thought from him as he leaned forward. “There was no convincing your sister I’m not a prince after she saw the castle, but her expression was rather uncannily similar to yours,” Rister informed Meredith, who was also leaning towards the car-window to peer at the castle, though with a somewhat dumbfounded expression rather than the fond smile on Lita’s and also Layla’s.

But after a few more turns the car rode through the gates into the large paved front-yard and stopped. Climbing out of the car, Rister wasn’t overly surprised to see their old butler already standing still in waiting with one of the house-elves behind him. “Welcome home, young master wolf!” the butler greeted him with a loud and clear tone, the severity of his posture somewhat ruined by the wide beaming smile. “Welcome home, young master,” the house-elf squeaked its greeting as well. Rister offered a light smile at them both feeling Layla slip out of the car as he turned to offer a hand to Lita and Merry to help them climb out of the car. “Miss Layla, we’re glad you came to visit. Miss Lita, it is a pleasure to see you again. Welcome to the Graas family home, young miss, do not hesitate to contact any of the servants or house-elves should you need assistance,” the butler offered the greetings to the girls as well, with Layla peering at the house still, Lita smiling happily in response and Merry looking somewhat bewildered. “To which rooms will I take the luggage?” the house-elf squeaked as it hopped forward to take the bag Merry was clutching only to have Lita urgently wave him back and send a glare at Rister. “Not now, Mirri,” Rister affirmed, acknowledging that Merry probably wouldn’t want to let go of the one familiar thing she had along with her, “Where’s mom?” “Master Wolf and Mistress are in the library. They were alerted of someone’s presence once you crossed the border of the grounds with the signet. Dinner will be served in half an hour. In which room do you wish to house your guest?” came the prompt reply from the butler. Rister grimaced at this information. “I had hoped to talk to mom before facing dad,” he grumbled moodily, knowing that mom would probably be somewhat calmer about the ordeal. Even so, he simply shrugged and stepped through the main-doors of the castle, as mom had always figured that if the door was there it was meant to be used. Holding out a hand to Layla, he heard Lita ushering Meredith after him, quietly explaining to the shell-shocked girl that Rister’s father was widely referred to as Master Wolf and his wife as Mistress at most circles. Rister merely ran up the grand staircase, smiling at Layla as she had to take two steps for his one, took the hallway to the right, a turn to the right, down the hallway, a turn to the left, up a smaller staircase and a turn left and down the hallway until they reached the massive dark doors of the library. Leaning his hands on the handles, Rister glanced at Meredith: “The conversation will probably start in Italian. Don’t worry about that and give us a moment to sort things out if you would. And don’t… run basically.”

Taking a deep breath, Rister shook his head wryly and shoved the doors open to step through, hearing Lita and Merry following him. His parents were in the library so Rister wrinkled his nose at them: “Shouldn’t you two retreat to your own room for Kamastura-like activities?” “Nonsense, it’s far more interesting when we do reach the bed,” mom responded without looking up from where she and dad were sharing a cheesecake. “Or maybe you should stay at school as you’re supposed to,” Dad offered with a sneer at Rister, a quick quirk of his mouth-corner to Layla and a swift nod to Lita and then his face slipping into a bleak mask as the black liquid pools of his eyes focused on Meredith. Ignoring that for a moment, Rister walked forward, watching as mom handed the plate with the cake to Dad, raised from her seat in his lap and walked forward to greet him. Picking her up, Rister smiled widely as he swung mom around in a circle once, her lips touching his forehead, before he gently deposited her back on her feet. Both Layla and Lita got a quick hug as well, before mom returned to stand half-way behind Dad, her arm resting on his shoulder in visible support and agreement of most anything. For a moment rister sent a wishing glance to where Layla had retreated to Dad’s two favourites – a husky and a malamute – laying before the unlit fireplace and we giving and receiving affections there. But that was not for here or now. “I’d like Meredith to watch the transformation, Dad,” he simply cut to the answer written in the raised eye-brows on Mom’s face, “She never really truly saw Morgana’s transformation and inside she’s terrified of her. It hurts Morgana, but she doesn’t understand enough to realise everything.” “Considering how nervous she is using me as a test-subject her idea?” Dad asked with a dangerously soft purr, his attention not wavering from Meredith who was starting to look distinctly uncomfortable. “How many people have you met who don’t grow nervous under your gaze?” Rister questioned back, even as he took a step forward to block Dad’s direct view to Meredith. After a long drawn-out moment Dad lifted his eyes to him and Rister allowed himself to relax a little bit. “It wasn’t her idea, no. But she wouldn’t know you enough to make such a suggestion. We figured that seeing what the transformation would help her understand the situation,” Rister countered, his shoulders squeared and head thrown back almost stubbornly, only to blink in surprise as mom suddenly snickered and bent over to whisper in Dad’s ear. He had no idea what mom just said, though Dad’s head whipping around as he practically snarled at Mom in reply was enough to have Meredith nearly jumping as Rister tossed a bewildered glance at Lita over his shoulder.

Dad responded curtly but too quietly for them to hear, but mom threw her head back and laughed loudly at whatever Dad had said. She bent to press a kiss to Dad’s still scowling lips before raising and switching into impeccable English: “Yes you did. You were merely blind and unable to see yourself in a mirror. And you can’t stand those talking things. Welcome to the Graas home, Meredith. I hope you don’t mind me calling you by your first name, but my rank and age really give me the right. It’s rare when we have visitors in the castle for the full moon, but you won’t have anything to fear. Rister, you’ll be fully charged with keeping your guest company.” “How long are you staying?” Dad questioned as he rose and placed the plate he had been holding on a small near-by table as he came closer to rest his hand on Rister’s shoulder. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning. I organised a portkey back at mid-day in the ministry,” Rister answered with a smile up to his Dad, fully relaxing now. Kris nodded simply, observing Rister wit ha hint of mischief in his expression as he slipped back into Italian for a sentence: “Would do you some good to calm the girl down, before introducing her as your bride to be to us.” Rister choked, truly startled, as Dad simply snickered at him, reverting back to English: “She looks even worse than Ashlyn did upon meeting us. I have a feeling she’d break into a spooked run if I barked at her.” The hand that had been resting on his shoulder moved so suddenly that Rister had no chance of ducking the swat Dad aimed at the back of his head so instead Rister snickered back at Dad. “Can we go riding again?” Layla questioned softly, standing up from where she had stayed with the dogs. “After dinner,” came the firm reply from mom, everyone taking the words at fact-value, “Rister will need to ride down to the village anyway to make sure they’re ready to tuck in firmly for night.” Dad glanced at her as did Rister, as usually Dad checked things himself and undoubtedly did so this time too. “I have a feeling I was just played,” Rister stated thoughtfully, only to receive a calm nod at mom: “You were. You’re just not sure how or when or why yet.” Dad swatted Rister somewhat fondly with a smirk on his face once again, even as he turned to walk out of the room, the two dogs at the fireplace and Layla rising to stand as he did so: “Come, Layla, we have a new golden Labrador puppy you might enjoy seeing before dinner.”

[Lita Hollows R6]

“I wish we were staying for longer than just one night,” Lita breathed out softly, her brown eyes filled with longing as they fixed unblinkingly on the white castle that was more her home than anywhere else. Her father still demanded her presence at his house for two weeks during the summer, which was more torture than a relaxing holiday, and Lita had her ranches in Scotland and Ireland to take care of as well as time with Gaenor but Lita loved her time with the Graas’. They were family, and this was home. At her side, Layla watched the surroundings pass by in peaceful silence. It had been easier than she had thought to separate Layla from her cousin. Ashlyn had been otherwise occupied, enough so to not really question Lita about why Layla’s presence was requested except to receive reassurance that Layla wasn’t in any trouble or danger, and her devious smile had hinted that the Gryffindors would soon be punished for their disrespect. Life was very rarely peaceful and quiet when Ashlyn had a vendetta against someone. At the very least Damon would never be bored. As she idly stared out of the window with a small, fond smile, Lita wondered precisely what Ashlyn had planned for her fellow Gryffindors this time. Whether it was successful or not, they would undoubtedly hear about it at some time or another.

Out of habit, Lita accepted Rister’s hand as she stepped out of the car. It was simply a polite, courteous gesture that wasn’t uncommon from her best friend so Lita didn’t bother to hide her slightly mocking smile when Merry looked hesitant, most likely battling with her pride, before murmuring her thanks and following in Lita’s footsteps as she also accepted Rister’s gesture. Out of Merry’s line of sight, Layla rolled her eyes in disgust and Lita allowed herself a quick smirk of amusement. She had guessed that Layla didn’t hold any more fondness for the Hufflepuff than Jared and Gabriel did. Merry didn’t look so much terrified as merely overwhelmed, Lita decided with contented satisfaction. That would make her job much easier. Merry tended to be so very nervous and on edge around any of the younger members of the Graas family. It would be interesting to see how she reacted to Kris and Cleo. Everything would go so much more smoothly if Merry wasn’t already terrified to begin with. When Mirri bounced forward to collect Merry’s bag, Lita sent a hastily assessing glance at the other girl before waving the house-elf away gently and shooting a pointed look at Rister. Merry wasn’t comfortable in the new surroundings; the least they could do was to let her cling onto the familiarity of her bag for a little bit longer if it would keep her calmer than she would be if they permitted Mirri to take it away.

Merry still looked confused so Lita gestured for Layla to join Rister in running ahead of them. “Kris is generally called ‘Master Wolf’ by quite a lot of people, really,” Lita explained patiently, guiding Merry through the hallways without needing to keep an eye on Rister to check where she was going. “So Cleo is called ‘Mistress’. Unless Rister’s talking to her, in which case she’s his mom. We’re not that formal here. Except for you. You’re a stranger.” Lita cast a doubtful look at Merry then tugged her to a stop, eyes serious as they rested on Meredith’s face. “You’re not just a stranger. You’re a stranger that caused hurt to their daughter and therefore the rest of their family. But not even you can be naive enough to expect a warm greeting. I might be on your side for now, but you’re not forgiven. Not by a long shot. Oh, and if you thought Rister could be scary? You haven’t met the Master Wolf yet.” Satisfied with her harsh warning and Meredith’s widened eyes, Lita continued walking without checking to see whether Merry would follow or not. If she didn’t follow quickly, she’d get lost and it seemed that even Merry realised that since she caught up with Lita after a few moments. Rister wasn’t oblivious or dense so he noticed the increased fear haunting Merry’s expression and Lita shrugged somewhat sheepishly, free of any regret for scaring the other girl. Merry deserved far worse for what she had done to Morgana and Lita didn’t have as much control as she needed to deal with Meredith.

With a hand placed firmly on Merry’s shoulder, Lita guided her into the library when Rister pushed the doors open. Now wasn’t when Merry would need the reassurance most so Lita moved away slightly. She had to prove that she could stand on her own and face Kris in his human form before Lita would support her through the night of the full moon. It would be hard for Merry, but Lita had warned her about that. She hadn’t been immune to Kris’ heavy gaze when she had first met him either. But he wasn’t a bad person. Kris’ statement as he slipped into Italian made Lita’s eyebrow shoot up questioningly as she glanced between Kris, Rister and Merry thoughtfully. Well, that was interesting. It certainly solved the problem of what possible reaction Morgana would have to face when Rister fell in love and his girlfriend needed to know the truth. “Oh, please don’t test that theory out, Kris,” Lita pleaded with a weary smile. “I’d be the one who has to run after her and I’d much rather not. My time can be better spent in writing a letter to Gaenor or tormenting your eldest son.”

[Layla Ellison]

To be utterly and bluntly truthful, even if only silently, Layla didn’t want to be in the Graas house. Not for the reason they were there anyway. Normally, she loved being in Italy with the Graas family and Ashlyn and Lita. She loved exploring the house and the surrounding grounds, and she adored the horses there. Layla felt comfortable around Cleo and Kris, comfortable enough to break her natural silence and chatter on for a few moments. Most people couldn’t even get a whole sentence from her. She loved Rister and Damon for being patient with her, for not pressing her into speaking when she was comfortable simply listening and observing. Gabriel was just fun to be around, plain and simple. He made her laugh and enjoy life and forget about what she had lost when her mum died. Jared was the one teaching her how to play the guitar, the one who comforted her after her nightmares. He could coax more words out of her than anyone else, except perhaps Ashlyn in her more patient moments. Layla adored Leandra and Morgana simply because of who they were. Leandra was so energetic and smart that Layla was in awe of her but she adored Morgana just a little bit more for her quieter personality. Because she adored Morgana and her family so much, Layla disliked Meredith Garwin all the more. Throughout the entire flight to Italy, Layla had been able to ignore Meredith without any trouble. Rister had pulled out a board game and successfully diverted her thoughts from the girl who had caused so much trouble for the people Layla adored most. Then they had moved into the car and the close quarters had made it so much harder to keep her eyes far away from Meredith’s direction. Her thoughtless question about apparating directly to Rister’s home had earned a quick, disbelieving glance from Layla before she rolled her eyes and returned to glancing out of the window. It was only logical that the castle should be covered in protective wards.

Eager to be free of the restrictive space and atmosphere in the car, Layla slipped through the door immediately after Rister. Perhaps it would have been wiser to decline Lita’s invitation to accompany them to Italy, Layla brooded silently. She could have wheedled more violin lessons out of Ashlyn or finished off her homework or searched out Leandra and Morgana for company if she started to feel lonely. Even another week of detention with McGonagall and Hawthorne was starting to look more appealing than this trip. Which did, in fact, remind her that she hadn’t yet informed Ashlyn of her five new detentions. Layla grimaced, not looking forward to Ashlyn’s scolding about getting into trouble in her first year. It wasn’t her fault that she wasn’t liked. Maybe she could ask Rister to annoy her cousin and distract Ashlyn from Layla’s disappearance during the detentions, Layla considered thoughtfully. Rister was always getting detentions. He couldn’t protest to her getting one, and he knew how Ashlyn reacted to Layla being put in detention. Smiling slightly, Layla grasped Rister’s hand willingly, laughing silently at the realisation that she had to take twice as many steps as Rister because of his longer strides. When the two of them had reached the library doors and neither Lita nor Meredith appeared after a moment, Layla tugged at Rister’s hand shyly and glanced up at him unhappily. “Rister,” she started quietly, her voice little more than a whisper, and then instantly shut her mouth firmly when the two older girls came into sight, her eyes darting away silently as if she had never been about to talk to him.

Layla offered a slight smile, just the smallest curve of her mouth, to Kris before hugging Cleo warmly. The greetings out of the way and Layla not wanting to spend any more time in close company with Meredith, she retreated with silent gratitude to the cold fireplace. Before she could even get settled comfortably on the floor, the husky nuzzled against her in search of affection that Layla happily shared between the two dogs. They were better company than Meredith Garwin, Layla grumbled in silent bad temper. And the dogs were most likely smarter than her too, because Layla was pretty sure that they would never turn away from someone who was as much of a wonderful person as Morgana was. Layla had cried the day after her first experience of Morgana’s pain during the full moon nights. Not because she was scared of Morgana or because her opinion of the older girl had suddenly changed, but because of the pain she had seen Morgana in when she didn’t deserve it for any reason. For some reason, Meredith just couldn’t see that part of the transformation. She couldn’t even see the animalistic beauty that Morgana held after her transformation into her wolf form. Meredith just seemed to be blind to everything wonderful about Morgana, and that didn’t endear her to Layla at all. It was, however, entirely probable that Layla might have been slightly more sympathetic to Meredith if she hadn’t been so aware that Jared, Gabriel, Damon and Ashlyn disliked her.

Layla watched the discussion without much interest, her attention mostly caught by her two companions on the floor. She didn’t particularly want to listen to Meredith stutter through an explanation of her cruelty to Morgana and Lita would tell her if anything interesting happened anyway. The sudden switch back to Italian caught her attention and Layla sighed in silent frustration. She knew a few words of Italian because she had asked for them to teach her but languages apparently weren’t her strong suit since Layla just couldn’t grasp the language at all. The reaction from both Rister and Lita implied that whatever Kris had said would be interesting though. Layla bounced to her feet cheerfully at Kris’ words, waiting until they had left the library to glance up at him curiously: “What’s the puppy’s name? And what did you say to Rister to make him look so shocked? Are we going to feed Meredith to a carnivorous duck?”

[Merry Garwin H6]

The castle was breathtaking. The cliffs and the darkened trees offered a beautiful contrast to the startling white of the castle itself. Rosa’s excited description simply hadn’t done it justice. Merry’s little sister had been right in one aspect though. The castle could have been an illustration taken straight from the pages of a fairytale. Merry couldn’t help but to stare in unabashed awe, even if her cheeks were still slightly pink from her earlier question about travelling directly to the castle. She’d hadn’t even been aware that private wards for homes were available and Lita’s frankly tortured expression hadn’t helped to make her feel like less of an uneducated idiot. Sometimes Merry thought that Lita just forgot that Merry hadn’t been brought up in the wizarding world and therefore obviously wouldn’t have as much knowledge as Lita or Rister themselves. Lita’s explanation had made sense though, as did most of the things Lita took the time to explain to her. The story about Leandra had made Merry inhale sharply though. The smart little redhead who had sat in the café with books that Merry struggled to comprehend the first time she had read them. That Leandra? No wonder the castle had such protections against intruders. She was getting such an insight into the Graas family, and Merry had to wonder why. Was it just to help her understand them more or was there a more subtle reason that she couldn’t guess at yet?

Merry flushed darkly at Rister’s comparison of her and Rosa, tearing her eyes away from the castle with some effort. “I won’t be calling you Prince Mordred, if it helps you to make the distinction between us,” Merry offered snappily, her tone sharpened by her embarrassment for acting so much like her youngest sister. Lita spared a moment from glancing out of the window to flash a sharply warning glare at Merry that was softened only by her comment about Rister already having a big enough ego without being called royalty. In comparison to the blatantly unfriendly glower from a continually silent Layla, Lita’s glare had been undoubtedly friendly. Merry recoiled from the blonde girl slightly, eyes widened with surprise. Apparently it wasn’t just Rister’s family that she had to worry about hostility from, Merry noted dryly. It was interesting though to ponder how devoted Layla would have to be to Morgana to dislike Merry so strongly without even talking to her. When Lita had suggested for Layla to accompany them, Merry had expected a weaker dislike from the girl than she would receive from Rister’s actual family. Merry couldn’t help but to swallow nervously as her imagination took over to help her think of how much more Rister’s siblings must hate her for hurting Morgana if Layla wasn’t even part of the family and she disliked Merry so strongly.

Not hiding her bewilderment, Merry trailed after Lita helplessly, still clutching at her bag like a lifeline. ‘Don’t run’. What kind of advice was that? Merry shot an honestly terrified glance over her shoulder at Lita, who shook her head slightly and shoved Merry into the room without any words of reassurance. The message was clear. She had to handle this herself if she wanted to survive the meeting with Rister’s parents. The implication that she might not survive didn’t really do anything to soothe Merry’s frazzled nerves, if she had to be honest. The family was a loving one, judging by Rister’s greeting to his mother, but Merry had known that already. From the warm embraces they received from Mrs Graas, Lita and Layla were favourites of the family; an idea which was only solidified by the way Layla silently crossed the room to flop down by the fireplace and offer her undivided attention to the two dogs lying there. Mr Graas’ dark stare was starting to become far too uncomfortable and Merry barely resisted the urge to shift from foot to foot nervously. Lita had made it perfectly clear that she wouldn’t be offering any semblance of support or assistance during the meeting so Merry didn’t even bother flicking her eyes in Lita’s direction. Rister stepping forward to block his father’s line of sight was a surprise and Merry blinked at his back with confused appreciation. Perhaps Lita had been right when she had told Merry that she could count on Rister to keep her safe during the full moon. For the first time since she had started avoiding him, Merry looked at Rister with a little less terror clouding her gaze.

“I don’t mind at all, ma’am,” Merry responded politely, her eyes moving from their fixed spot of safety on Rister’s back shyly. “I’ve been referred to as far worse things than my name.” Rister’s odd reaction to whatever his father had murmured to him in Italian made Merry raise an eyebrow warily and shoot a quick glance at Lita, whose deeply thoughtful expression didn’t comfort her in the slightest. Mr Graas’ idea of her running as quickly as she could from even the slightest scare probably wasn’t that inaccurate, Merry acknowledged with a silent feeling of sheepishness. She was very much aware that she probably wasn’t overly welcome here and she didn’t feel comfortable at all. Only a very small amount of tension left Merry when Rister’s father left the room, the two dogs and Layla quite happily walking at his side in search of the new puppy.

[Rister Graas S6]

His reactions were milder than what Rister had dreaded for. But he had no doubts over the fact that the words mom had whispered into dad’s ear were what did the trick. He had no idea what made mom make up her mind or what she had whispered to dad, but the effect of it couldn’t be mistaken. “How do you besotted fool still find time to torture me?” Rister tossed over his shoulder at Lita, though not without a certain extent of fondness. Along with Layla, Rister perked up considerably at the mention of a puppy as well. He didn’t have quite the same touch with animals that Dad did… but he was good with animals as well. Very good even and he did love them. So it was with no small amount of longing that Rister peered at the door after them, even as he dutifully stayed put in the library, although he stepped aside for Mom to see Meredith clearly. Her gaze wasn’t quite as unsettling as Dad’s black eyes, even though Mom’s was no less dangerous. She was just more subtle about it generally, whereas Dad had a better reign on his temper and a calmer character than Mom. It was odd actually. Everyone was always more afraid of Dad, whereas Dad was far more patient than Mom ever could be on her best days. And when Mom was mad, one word of hers would turn Dad against you, yet few seemed to realise how to dance the line between Mom’s likes and dislikes.

Meredith’s next words made Rister wince slightly, but he shrugged at Mom, who frowned openly. “And I’ve been referred to by few things that are worse than ma’am. I’m only 35, so I still have a decade or so to go until I’m a ma’am,” Mom arched an eye-brow at Meredith, “I got married a week after I turned 17 and had my first child before I turned 18. You’re probably the same age I was when I had already started my own family.” Mom’s eyes were cool, Rister noted, as she regarded Meredith, the green pools hiding the depths of any thoughts: “You may call me Mistress. My husband will be Mr. Graas or Master Wolf for you.” But then Mom’s eyes fell onto Rister and her lips quirked into a smirk: “Scram, boy, you’re dying to go and see the puppy anyway.” Riser gave a wide smirk, not arguing with the truth in the statement, but tossed a hesitant glanced at the two girls in the room. It took a second glance at Mom and her raised eye-brow for him to dart to the door the follow Layla and Dad, leaving the three… ladies… to do whatever they were up to. Luckily Layla and Dad hadn’t got too far yet, as Rister managed to catch up to them in three hallways, knowing where Dad usually kept his new strays. They were rather seriously discussing the option of reserving carnivorous ducks and debating the future prospects of possible carnivorous geese. With an expression as serious as if he was discussing the latest fiscal politics, Dad conversed to Layla about the possibility of actually training geese to eat meat, while he seemed somewhat doubtful about ducks ability to do the same.

Layla didn’t seem entirely convinced but let the matter drop as she petted the small golden puppy that had curled up in her lap and was contently chewing on a strip of meat, originating – no doubt – from Dad’s pocket. As that topic seemed to have been finished, Dad nodded absently at Rister, who went to crouch next to Layla to gentle stroke the back of the small puppy that couldn’t have been older than about six weeks. “You’re welcomed to name the pup. Haven’t decide on anything that suits him just yet. He won’t have the character to be one of the hunting hounds and I’m not sure how much of a favourite pet he’d be to my character. But he’s friendly and sweet so you’re welcomed to be his guardian angel and name him,” Dad told Layla, as all three of them knew that after an animal had been named It very rarely left the castle anymore, whereas unnamed animals might be sold or given away. Layle didn’t hurry to name the dog just yet though, instead peeking up at Rister: “Why did you look so shocked?” Recalling Dad’s words, Rister grimaced slightly, whereas Dad had no problems repeating himself: “I told him to calm Meredith down before introducing her as his bride-to-be. According to your mother, I had looked just as stubborn as you do when I had first met her. We weren’t quite as civilized as you are, but.” Well, at least it also shed some light into what Mom had whispered to Dad, Rister thought glumly, but there was no taming his parents really. Instead Rister peered up at Layla, remembering the way she had whispered her name earlier: “What did you want to tell me earlier?”

After a couple of more moments spent with the puppy, the dinner bell rang loud through the castle, the one tone clear. It was nearly instinctual for both Rister and Dad to reach a hand to Layla and once she had taken both of hem, Rister shared a quick glance with Dad and they raised their hands at the same time, leaving Layla tangling in mid-air between them. It was in this way that they stepped into the dining room and found the the two girls and Mom already there and seated. Rister settled in his regular seat, Layla slipping into a seat to his right, pointedly choosing a seat as far from Meredith as possible without sitting in Dad’s lap at the end of the table. Rister smirked and let his fingers slip to her ribcage in a merciless tickle, only to be hit on the head with the spoon Mom was about to reach some stewed carrots and cauliflower with. Pouting, Rister reached for the food himself as well, not being overly surprised to find steak being on today’s menu. They always had steak at full moon, probably due to the demands of Dad’s werewolf sides, as shown by the fact that Dad helped himself to only generous helpings of meat today, even as Mom and he quizzed Lita and Layla about school and life next to the food. It was with considerable shyness that Layla admitted to them that she had detention again. Quite evidently she was afraid of their reaction, for Dad to only shrug carelessly, while Mom smiled lightly even as her eyes were sharp on Layla. “The older professors at least enjoy their subjects, so with a couple of polite questions you can always charm them into talking about what you were learning and generally tell you all the things you need for writing an essay to them or catching up on schoolwork for a week or two. As long as your grades don’t suffer over detentions, what doe sit matter that you have them?” Mom’s eyes were curious as she observed Layla, so Rister carried on after Dad: “That’s why I’m doing quite so well in Transfiguration, much to Lita’s exasperation and why nearly all of my detentions are with Minnie. They rarely consist of anything more challenging that practicing some new spell for her or grading some younger years homework or just discussing Transfiguration with her. They’re far more educative than classes really. When in detention alone, the professor has time to explain things just at the pace and difficulty you need it. They’re private tutoring sessions of sort.” Layla smiled quietly, but Rister could detect some tension slipping away from her over the fact that neither Mom nor Dad seemed to mind detentions.

Which was also about the point when Dad’s eyes flashed over to Meredith, who had mainly kept to herself during the meal. The expression on Dad’s face was too neutrally pleasant for Rister to trust it. “Werewolves are rather closely related to regular non-magic predators in that sense that we like meat, Meredith. To an extent we even crave it near the full-moon, as with the exception of my youngest daughter werewolves don’t retain their human way of thinking during the transformation and we burn plenty of energy during transformation and the easiest way to regain that is eating meat,” Dad told her calmly, startling the girl, as she probably hadn’t expected someone to turn to her in quite this way and such words, “The transformation itself is more painful than the Cruciatus curse, which isn’t a walk in the park either. Every single bone, muscle, fibre and cell in your body are being broken and twisted and mended at the same time. At such a moment keeping the contents of your stomach isn’t really your priority and more often than not I have emptied my stomach on the dungeon floor during the transformation. Sometimes even before because your head feels like exploding and you don’t really feel well before it either. So that rises the question just why I’m eating right now, doesn’t it?” Dad made a pensive face, as he carefully cut a little piece of meat and lifted it to his mouth to chew slowly. Rister met Mom’s eyes, who smirked at him lightly before hiding her smile in her glass of red wine. Rister found himself doing the same, as he waited to see just how Dad would continue. “It’s rather simple really. If I feel hungry after the transformation, the animalistic instincts tell me to go hunting. Oh not humans, don’t look that scared, as regular game will work just as well. Which reminds me that I shouldn’t suggest running from me. That would give a kick-start to hunter instinct and while I wouldn’t necessarily harm you after bowling you over, I’m not quite sure you’d have the nerves to remain calm and quiet under a snarling werewolf. But we’re getting sidetracked here. So after I’ve caught my prey, ripped into it and shredded, slashed, torn, battered, chewed and gnawed…” “Eaten?” Lita interrupted with a bland suggestion and Dad sent her a wicked smirk. “Eaten,” Dad agreed with a tilt of his head before turning his gaze back to Meredith, “The problem really is the blood. While it doesn’t hinder me during the night, I’m not quite in the mind of washing my teeth after drinking some of it and it does tend to leave a rather unpleasant aftertaste in your mouth by the time you wake in the morning. I’ve always wondered if vampires have the same problem. Then again they can wash their teeth after having eaten.”

[Layla Ellison]

“I don’t know,” Layla disagreed seriously, her deep blue eyes solemn as she glanced up at Kris for a moment to check that he was neither laughing at her nor growing tired of the conversation. “I don’t think that it’s terribly outlandish to think that ducks could eat meat. It might not be their favourite food, if indeed they have one at all, but it’s entirely possible. The meat would have to be shredded since ducks don’t have teeth, but they could certainly digest it.” Her voice had started to show the strain of talking more in one minute than she had over the past few weeks and finally broke completely on the last word, sending Layla into a painful coughing fit. One hand automatically rose with well-bred courtesy to cover her mouth while the other grasped at her throat desperately as she nearly doubled over with the force of the coughs that rattled through her small body. It took just a few seconds short of a minute for Layla to force the cough back into submission and regain her breathing but her eyes held the sheen of unshed tears of pain and shame when she peeked up at Kris with forlorn misery, not trusting her voice for the moment.

Although grateful for the silence, Layla couldn’t muster up a smile for the adorable golden puppy that curled up in her lap contentedly as he gnawed at the piece of meat that Kris had given her. The puppy was going to stay? The news cheered Layla just the smallest amount and she petted the golden fur with more outward affection. She was too guarded to let herself love an animal that would just end up unnamed and released into the care of someone else but if he was staying then she would see him often. Sensing the change in her touch, the puppy butted his head against her stomach and emitted a low whine to demand more of her newly loving petting. Layla started to smile, leaning over to press a light kiss to the puppy’s head, but the expression abruptly vanished at Kris’ words. Rister and Meredith? A petulantly outraged scowl started to form at the very thought of it. After what Meredith had done to Morgana? She had never romanticised Rister as anything that he wasn’t but that would be a betrayal to his youngest sister that Layla had simply not thought him capable of. Did Ashlyn or Lita know about this? Of course Lita knew, Layla realised with dawning horror. Lita was far more fluent in Italian than Layla could ever dream of being. She had looked thoughtful at the prospect, Layla remembered sulkily. Was she the only one who disapproved of this? A terrible thought struck her and Layla paused in her loving attentions to the puppy on her lap. Did Jared approve of this match also? Were they all really so different to how she had thought them to be? Feeling unbearably unsure and isolated, Layla shook her head sharply in response to Rister’s question. She didn’t want to tell him anything anymore. Not until his sanity returned. Had Meredith cast some sort of outrageous spell over the castle to make everyone act so ridiculously? Layla pondered as she eyed Kris and Rister warily. They could not have forgotten her actions so easily. This had to be a joke.

Their grasp on reality might be faltering but Layla still loved both Kris and Rister so she accepted their hands without a second thought after carefully removing the puppy from her lap. Hopefully the dinner wouldn’t be filled with this sudden new approval of Meredith, Layla thought with a silently irritable huff. It might spoil her appetite. Her fierce dislike of Meredith sufficiently revived, Layla shot a clearly unfriendly look at both Lita and Meredith before choosing a seat as far away from the Hufflepuff as possible. Her appetite had vanished, Layla discovered with dismay. But at least Ashlyn wasn’t here to fuss over her. Actually, she reconsidered almost instantly, if Ashlyn was here then she would be too busy trying to force Meredith to disappear simply through willpower to notice Layla’s dwindling appetite. “I’ve got another week of detention with McGonagall and Hawthorne,” Layla admitted dismally, her indignation over receiving undeserved detentions only overshadowed by her fear of Cleo’s and Kris’ reactions. Kris’ dismissive shrug soothed Layla even as she returned Cleo’s sharp glance with a puzzled expression. Was Cleo more disappointed than she appeared to be? Ah. Sanity was returning! Layla’s expression lightened slightly when attention returned to Meredith. Kris’ opinion of her was obviously not favourable any longer. The description of the transformation wasn’t really pleasant to hear but Layla continued eating without showing any reaction. Hearing about it was nothing compared to seeing it with her own eyes. Besides, it was rather amusing to flick her eyes sideways just in time to catch the paling of Meredith’s face. Even Lita seemed to have regained her loyalty to Morgana since she spoke up with the hint of a mischievous smile twitching at the corner of her mouth. “A bowl of water could be provided for you tonight. Rister can throw it over you to wash your mouth,” Layla suggested with perfect innocence.

[Merry Garwin H6]

“I’ll always find time to torture you. That’s what sisters do,” Lita assured Rister with a cheerful smile. There was still tension in the room but Merry felt herself relax just the tiniest bit at the exchange between Rister and Lita. Then she immediately tensed again when Mrs Graas’ piercing gaze settled on her, suddenly on alert for reasons she didn’t particularly understand. Mrs Graas’ gaze had been the more unsettling but these pair of eyes seemed more dangerous. Every cell in her was alert and wary. Every muscle toned by years of martial arts and archery tensed with the simple, instinctive knowledge that there was danger and she was the prime target. Adrenaline danced in her veins and increasingly wary brown eyes lowered just enough to not meet Mrs Graas’ and mark her as insolent or challenging but not enough to impair her vision. Merry was a born fighter; those instincts had faded slightly in her avoidance of the Graas family but now sprung back without effort as she found herself trapped in yet another uncomfortable situation.

“I didn’t mean to cause any offence,” Merry answered softly, fighting hard to keep wariness out of her tone. Mrs Graas would most likely already have guessed that merry didn’t trust them and was therefore uncomfortable in their presence but there was no need to prove it to a greater extent than she already had. “I’ve been a waitress for years; it’s become simple habit to address women as ‘ma’am and men as ‘sir’. But I’ll not forget the preferences of ‘Mistress’ and ‘Master Wolf’ for yourself and Mr Graas.” Merry couldn’t help but to glance at Rister’s retreating back miserably for a quick moment before returning her attention to Mrs Graas and Lita. He wouldn’t have been a genuine ally anyway, Merry told herself firmly, so there was no use in wishing that he hadn’t left. Just like the rest of his family, Rister hated her for continually hurting Morgana. Lita would be of greater assistance and she was still in the library, albeit appearing to be slightly distracted by the books surrounding her.

The loud ringing of a bell nearly made Merry jump or instinctively crouch into a defensive position. The adrenaline humming through her wasn’t sure whether to put her on the defensive or simply permit her to be submissive and accepting of her fate. It was a bad omen, Merry acknowledged wryly, when her own instincts weren’t sure whether to just give up on her as a lost cause or not. The meal showed signs of passing by without incident though, so Merry relaxed slightly in her seat as she started to eat. The reminder of Layla’s evident hatred of her in the way of the glare the blonde girl gave to Merry, and also Lita, which was surprising, made Merry’s shoulders hunch over slightly. She was under continuous attack in this castle. Her nerves wouldn’t hold out for much longer before the impulses nurtured by years of being trained in fighting took over. She wasn’t used to such situations. She didn’t know how to handle them for the best and Lita seemed to have lost any inclination to help her even in the slightest. The description of the transformation into werewolf made it hard for her to swallow the piece of meat in her mouth and Merry could feel her face whitening. She didn’t want to hear this. She didn’t want to know. The Graas’ should have obliviated her when she had first discovered Morgana and an injured Rister because Merry was sure that she couldn’t handle this for much longer. Layla’s deceptively innocent seeming suggestion of providing water for Mr Graas to clean his mouth out with after tasting Merry’s blood seemed to signal a small reprieve in the discussion and Merry permitted herself a silent exhale of relief before immediately regretting it. Dinner wasn’t yet over; this was hardly likely to be the end of the topic of conversation.

[Rister Graas S6]

((Slow and long and boring and lame, but meh. Nothing really came to mind.))

Layla seemed angry at him and Rister wasn’t entirely sure why. But other than a questioning glance he let it be for now. If she didn’t want to talk about it, she wouldn’t, so why torture both of them with useless questions. Instead Rister focused on his meal, feeling an odd mixture of pity and joy as Meredith’s face grew increasingly pale. Pity because somehow that girl had gotten deep into him in a way Rister hadn’t expected or experienced before. And joy because she deserved to be scared after hurting Morgana. Layla’s suggestion about the bowl of water brought a bit of a pause to the conversation though as Rister at least contemplated it. Not that it took him long to imagine the scene in his mind and promptly decide against it. “I don’t really think I’d quite survive dunking Dad’s head in water,” he mused thoughtfully, “He’s more like a cat than a predator really should be and dislikes getting wet. Maybe Mom could get away with it but…” “I don’t think I’ll risk the sulking afterwards,” Mom responded calmly as Rister dropped off his sentence, “It’s going to be a harder night anyway than when her siblings were here.” Meredith looked up sharply at that as did Lita so Rister nodded mildly. “When Rosalind got caught in the portkey. She, Phillip and Charisse Garwin were here on full moon. Rosalind’s reaction was much like Layla’s had been, if it took her a bit longer to get that far, but Dad isn’t quite as friendly as Morgana. Phillip seemed utterly floored though. Think Dad’s his favourite hero or villain now, whatever the case might be.” Mom laughed, recalling the event herself as well, as she addressed Lita in describing it: “Not that I believed that, considering Rister’s introduction. The small weapon lounge. Kris and I stepped into the room from the balcony. Rister crouched down behind the boy, turned him around and asked if he could introduce his father. His exact words were ‘oh, did I forgot to mention he’s a werewolf?’ if I remember correctly.” Lita laughed, but any further conversation was stalled by the appearance of an house-elf bearing a simple, if a tad old-fashioned –goblet filled with a still smoking drink.

The house-elf wordlessly handed the goblet to Dad, whose mouth had tightened by just the tiniest bit. “Mirri, our guest would probably enjoy a taste of that. Bring her a couple of sips as well,” Mom’s voice was cool and collected, yet reminded Rister eerily of a whiplash. “But, Mistress, it’s…”the house-elf squeaked in horror. “My wife is right. Bring Meredith a taste,” Dad responded, his face dark as he looked at Meredith, “She wanted to understand, so let her.” The house-elf bowed deeply and reappeared a few moments later with a tiny vial holding enough liquid for just a sip in it as he handed it to Meredith. “Wolfsbane’s potion. It does not make a werewolf tame and it does not quell the pain, but it suffocates the instincts to kill. I do not think like a human during my transformations, but that potion along with years of mental training and testing had kept me one of the calmest werewolves,” Dad nodded bleakly towards the vial Meredith was holding. After a long moment Meredith hesitantly tilted the vial and emptied it. Rister handed his half-full glass of water to her wordlessly as she seemed about to choke on it. The potion smelled bad and tasted even worse. He had tasted it once himself and whenever he thought of the taste now it reminded him of rotten toad slime. Meredith seemed rather happy to attempt to douse the taste with his water as well, even as Dad raised his goblet and under Meredith’s somewhat disbelieving look drained it without as much of a grimace. Meredith would really need to learn to imagine the extent of self-control you could have over yourself, Rister mused lazily.. Placing the goblet carefully on the table, Dad touched a napkin to his lips, before nodding to everyone and standing. Offering the crook of his elbow to Mom, the two left the room.

“Time to swing by the village. Coming along and did Mom house Meredith somewhere already?” Rister asked the girls idly, receiving a different sort of nod from each of them. Layla coming for her love of horses, Meredith because she didn’t want to stay in the castle alone and Lita probably for both of those. Taking the most direct route, Rister led the way out of one of the back doors of the castle, as it was closer to the stables and made her way over to the stables. “Young wolf,” the old stable-hands face beamed upon sighting him, “There were words that you’re back home. Will you be staying?” “Just for the night, Roger. Going down to the village right now. Help Layla get a saddle for her horse would you?” Rister told the man, laying his hand on his shoulder in passing greeting. “Very well. What horse do you wish for me to prepare for your guest?” “I’ll go bareback and take her up behind me,” Rister answered simply, clicking his tongue at Mom’s Pyro as the stallion reared and beat the wooden door of his stall with his hooves as Rister passed him. Causing a young woman look up from the next stall and with a whoop of joy launch herself forward to hug Rister. “Phia,” Rister laughed, catching the girl and dropping a friendly kiss on the top of her head, “What are you doing here?” “Master Wolf was kind enough to let me carry through my work experience practice for the vet school at the stables. I was just looking at Madeline’s feet. She hurt her hind left leg a bit ago. I was about to start heading home in a few minutes.” “Saddle someone for you and come with us. I can bring the horse back up later,” Rister suggested, glancing around at the other girls. Layla and the stable boy went to prepare whichever horse Layla would pick for the trip and knowing Lita could pick and handle a horse herself, Rister headed straight for his own stallion, Meredith trailing after Sophia and him. The black horse with two white front legs whickered happily upon sighting Rister and he took a moment to greet his horse, as the horse gently butted his shoulder with his head, neighed and tried to nibble on his hair. Chuckling quietly, Rister petted his four-legged friend, whispering a few quiet endearments and words in the large velvety ears before picking up a brush, listening to Phia chattering away at him at the stall over the hallway, the main topic being her fiancée. Sophia was five years older than him, but Rister’s training as the Heir and his character had always been mature so they were fast friends.

His movements swift and firm, he brushed the horse quickly, using a sharp hook to bend and clean the all four hooves. The bridle was set into place with the ease of years of practice as the horse, already anticipating the run, opened its mouth eagerly. Holding the reins, Rister stroked the horse’s head with one of his hands as he led him out of the well-lit stables, motioning to Meredith to follow. They were the first to be ready, Phia coming out not soon afterwards. Layla and Lita come out of the stables with their horses a few minutes later as well. Rister offered his palm as a steppingstone for Layla to use as she hoisted herself up in the saddle, before turning to his own mount and Meredith. Swinging himself easily on the horse-back, he held out a hand to Meredith and with simple instructions pulled her on the horse-back behind himself. “Holding securely?” he asked with some amusement, feeling Meredith’s hands daintily resting on his shoulders as he knew full well that this hold wouldn’t be enough. Upon an affirmative response, Rister rolled his eyes heavenwards and with a sharp pull of reigns hade his stallion rearing before it took off at a slow-paced canter, even as he reached a hand behind himself to catch Meredith’s wrist at her yelp and pull her arm securely around his waist. Right now on top of a running horse she didn’t even seem to have much against wrapping both of her arms tightly around him either as Rister steered his mount to the shortest path leading down to the village. Slowing to a trot after a few minutes of running, Rister glanced up as Phia claimed a spot to his left again while Layla and Lita raced ahead them both. “Who’s the Chiquita? None of you boys tends to bring girl home,” Phia questioned with a curious glance to Meredith, who still clung to his waist. “Meredith Garwin. She goes to Hogwarts with us. She needs to see Dad’s transformation,” Rister responded neutrally, seeing from the corner of his eyes as Phia turned in saddle to observe the girl, before the name seemed to click in her head. “Garwin! The one who avoided Morgana! Tsch! And you let her…” Phia hissed, gesturing wildly at Meredith’s seat behind him and her arms around his waist. “Which is why she’s here to see Dad’s transformation and she needs to hold on to something,” Rister responded as he arched an eye-brow at Phia, who tossed her head back but under Rister’s level look didn’t say anything more, rather racing forward to join Lita and Layla who were swerving in an out of sight ahead of them.

Rister watched her go rather calmly, reining his own stallion in to carry on with a simple trot as the girls pulled ahead of them. “The village down there has all sworn fealty to us and yes, I’m aware it’s a medieval tradition and we can discuss just how tyrannical, egoistical and cruel it makes us some other time. Fact is that the people down there are somewhat like an extended family. We’ve played with the kids while growing up, worked with the youngsters, been babysat by the adults. They’re friends to us and they’re protective. None of them will appreciate anything less than awe and worship towards any of us – including Morgana and especially Mom and Dad – just so you’re warned before-hand,” Rister stated calmly, half-turning his head. He had no doubts Phia would let everyone know Meredith wasn’t very welcomed, but he was also sure everyone would be polite. Painfully so, perhaps, but polite. Without waiting for a reply, Rister clicked his tongue at the powerful stallion they were sitting astride of and with a delighted snort the beast burst forward. A genuine smile etched on his face, Rister urged his horse to chase the wind as they got out of the forest and could see the roofs of the houses ahead of them as well as the three girls steering their horses between the houses. Large hooves beat the ground merciless, raising dust and startling of f a couple of birds directly to their right, but the horse was far too sure-footed to be distracted by that. His horse would never have the urge to jump high as Mom’s nor the speed of Gabriel’s and Morgana’s horses, buthe was strong and surefooted and powerful. Rister could feel that power in the movement of tight muscles under skin, every snort and every toss of the powerful head as they cantered across the field. A stern jerk on the reins pulled the horse to a peaceful walk as they reached the first house as Rister bend over low to greet the kid standing there with a wide smile etched on his face, allowing the kid to pop an orange and rather out of shape-looking soft cookie into his mouth, as she confided in him that she had made them herself. Upon hearing Rister’s praise, the girl beamed up at him, before turning and scampering back to the house at her mother’s call, who waved at Rister before rushing her daughter in. Turning his head, still bend low towards the ground, Rister snickered as he managed to catch Meredith’s eyes. As he bent she had let out an almost inaudible yelp and her arms slipping away from Rister’s waist had rather unceremoniously grabbed hold of his pants. “Is this the time where I remind you that you can’t have my bottom without the rest of the package?” At least the words brought all the blood in her body back into her face, Rister decided as he straightened up and walked the horse forward. There was a small square with a stand for horses in the centre of the small village and by the commotion nearly all of 68 habitants of the village had gathered there.

Once they appearaed into view as well, Rister was showered with smiles and greetings as well. A pat and the horse lowered his head, allowing Rister to throw his leg over his neck and drop onto the ground. Figuring that not asking would make things quicker, Rister simply reached up, seized Meredith’s waist and lifted her down as well. Holding her for a moment to make sure she had her balance, Rister tossed the reins to one of the three teenaged boys vying for his attention with instructions to walk the horse, even as he darted forward to greet his friends. For him the next hour was pleasant and filled with hugs and laughter for him. Rodolpho with her far too large glasses and Hollywood-movie geek build had another huge blueprint to show him that he couldn’t’ make any sense of but agreed to just to see his friend’s face light up in a smile that made him… no less handsome. A ten minute game of football with the younger than 10 year olds in the middle of the street, a nicked blueberry muffin from a window-sill as the woman from inside the house laughed at him, obediently eyeing a Barbie doll a 6-year old demonstrated to him, giving a short ride to another and arguing with her grandfather about the most recent political turn in relations with Germany. After the months of school of them all being away, the villagers were happy to have him shake up their evening like this. So happy that a darling little five-year old stumbled and fell so hard on the ground that she scraped her knee to the bone. Rister was quite behind her mother in reaching her, as the girl sobed in pain. "Will you heal her?" wa the question from the mother, most eveyone looking up at him with complete trust in their faces. His face blank, as he kneeled nect to the girl and the mother, Rister slipped his signet ring on his finger and then turned his head to look at the spiral towers of the castle visible above the forest. For a long moment he gazed at it, before hsharply turning hsi head. He could not refer to Dad's power and the bloodbond to the castle tonight. Not on full moon. Laying her palms over the wounded knee, Rister closed his eyes and concentrated, calling for the magic that he knew flowed in his veins. For the magic laying dormant in the trees and land and air and his home and his people. He didn't really see the magic appearing in his eyes, but he could imagine the faing green slivers wisping themselves around his fingers and the girl's knee, having seen both his parents do it before. He could simply feel the pressure of magic on his temples, the ache in his body and somewhere deep down confidence that he would do, just ofr the trust in him. "The ruler's hands are healing hands," his old babysitter murmured somewhere in the background as the pressure in his body eased and his knee started throbbing. Without the support of the old castle and the magic in it's stone and the mental pressure on him, he would not have been able to use enough wandless magic to heal the wound, but he could transfer it. Receiving a tight hug and an innocent kiss on his lips for his work, Rister slowly rose to his feet, gratefully accepting the glass of juice someone had had the wisdom to fetch for him. Extracting himself from the commotion brought a quick twist of regret to his lips after a brief moment, even though farewells and promises to come back took a good 10 minutes, so by the time he was able to get back to his horse everyone else was already waiting for her. Meredith had even managed to mount his stallion somehow. Reminding the villagers again to lock up tight and making sure he wouldn't show his own hurting knee, Rister heaved himself onto the horse with some manoeuvring, as he could scarcely swing his leg over the horse’s back with Meredith already sitting there. “Your last chance to stay behind. If you’re truly and fully unable to face tonight, I’ll leave you in the village until tomorrow,” Rister offered to Meredith quietly. For a good minute no answer seemed to be forthcoming, before her arms slowly slipped around his waist again. Taking that as his clue, Rister turned his horse – and the one Phia had ridden here – to head back to the castle.

The ride went rather uneventfully, with the only difference being that Meredith seemed a bit more prepared to Rister swinging her onto the ground now than she had been at the village. Taking the two horses with him, Rister stepped back into the stable, Meredith once again trailing after him. Her hesitant questions if she could help made him pause and throw a curious look at her, before offering a curt nod. Carrying on between the stalls between he reached the ones he needed, he pushed his own stallion’s head in his stall and giving him a pat on the rump to make the horse enter. The horses would have to come first, Dad's lesson when he had gifted each of his children with a personal mount, and he had made a promise to handle Phia's horse as well. Stepping into the other one with the mare Sophia had ridden, Rister turned the horse around. Unsaddling the horse, Rister pulled the heavy saddle off and handed it to Roger, the stable-hand, to take away along with the bridle and reins, before motioning for Meredith to step in as he stepped out. Rummaging in the bag hanging next to he stall door – the upper part of which he had closed, while the lower part stayed open, Rister handed Meredith a suitable hard brush: “You saw me brushing my horse before. The same now.” Picking up a brush himself, he went to care for his own horse, giving him a thorough rub-down before cleaning his hooves, before the horse happily went to inspect his manure that Roger had evidently restocked on while they were out. Stepping out of his stall at the same time as Lita, Rister waved absently at her hesitant look: “Go.” He wasn’t entirely sure where Layla was, but she would know her way around well enough. Giving his stallion a carrot for farewell, Rister picked up one to feed to the mare Meredith was brushing as well, before ducking into the stall with her and the mare. She seemed to have managed only half of the horse while Rister took care of those, but that had been expected. Rister had cared for and groomed horses his entire life, she probably had rarely – if ever – had such a chance. Feeling sweaty, Rister absently unbuttoned his shirt, tugging it out of his pants, before crossing his arms over his chest and watching Meredith brush the mare. She was slow, but she got the job done, Rister decided critically, giving her a brief nod once she had finished. “The brush goes back into the bag and the hoof-hook is hanging next to the window,” he instructed and then waited until Meredith reappeared with the metal hook and a somewhat doubtful face, “Slide your hand down each leg, pick up the hoof and clean it.” It was a hard task for someone not used to it and Rister snickered quite liberally as Meredith attempted to get hold of a hoof, only to have the horse abruptly pull it away once she had managed to lift one off the floor. She really only managed a couple of scrapes of one hoof and even those far too light to even remove the soil. Finally deciding that he needed a shower more than a laugh, Rsiter stepped forward and took the hook from her. “They can tell when you’re nervous just like any other animal,” bending Rister slid his palm down the horse’s hoof, picked up the leg and with a few harsh scrapes cleaned away the soil, the horse standing perfectly still other than bending her neck to look at him, “And you can’t hurt them with this. They’ll feel a small stone if it gets between the hoof and the shoe, much like you’d feel gravel in your shoes, but they don’t feel pain at cleaning.” To demonstrate it, Rister smacked the bottom of the hoof he was holding with the pick a couple of times, before quickly cleaning the three other hooves as well. Giving the apple he had brought along to the mare, Rister stepped out of the stall, closed the bottom half of the floor and closed the higher and hung the hook back in its place. Layla was still nowhere in sight so they walked to the castle wordlessly and the luxuriously relaxed pace Rister allowed himself, feeling completely secure and comfortable in his homes. “There’s about an hour and a half left before we’ll head to the dungeons. I’m going to take a shower first in that time and I suggest you do the same. Beyond that you’ll be welcomed to explore the castle. Just call for Mirri to show you around, she’ll keep you away from everywhere you shouldn’t be. You can visit the library,” Rister suggested mildly, snapping his fingers to summon the house-elf, “Mirri, show Meredith to the room Mom decided to place her in and stay available.” The house-elf bobbed a bow but hovered before them uncertainly: "Young Wolf, you're hurt." Meredith threw a startled glance at him that Rister ignored. It would be easier in ways if he thought him to be an inconsiderate monster. "Just scraped my knee. Show Meredith to her room and then get me an ice-pack and osme healing draught." Mirri bowed again and hurried down the before them, Rister taking a different turn from them once they had reached the third floor to go and get his own shower.

[Layla Ellison]

Oh, the poor girl. Layla threw a scathing, utterly unsympathetic stare down the table to Meredith. How pale her face had turned! Were her hands actually shaking? Layla peered closer, smirking in open delight when she saw that Meredith was truly trembling in terror. She deserved every moment of fright and unhappiness. Morgana had had far worse. And, really, what was Meredith to them? She had no tie to the Graas family. Except for the fact that Kris could envisage her as Rister’s future wife. The thought alone made Layla’s declining hunger dissipate entirely. In the grand scheme of things, Meredith was nothing. She was nobody of great importance. Even Layla herself had a greater claim to Jared and his brothers than that. Ashlyn was eternally bonded to Damon whether they liked it or not, and Layla was her youngest cousin. So what made Meredith Garwin so very important? Sharp blue eyes, not distracted by eating or drinking or talking, caught every flick of Rister’s eyes to Meredith and mentally noted each time that Meredith glanced to Rister for reassurance or assistance or just for the reminder that he was still there. Did Meredith expect Rister to be her protector? Did Rister want to be her protector? A knight in shining armour? It wasn’t exactly Rister’s style. He wasn’t a brave, selfless and noble knight. None of them were. Not even Layla was childish and innocent enough to think that they could be.

She wanted Jared, Layla thought miserably as she watched Rister offer his glass of water to Merry with arguably tender consideration for the girl. It would perhaps be more expected for her to want Ashlyn by her side but she had known Ashlyn for only a few weeks longer than Jared and his brothers. That wasn’t a long time at all, and Ashlyn hadn’t been prepared to offer much more than the basic stability that Layla needed in her life after her parents had died. She had tried but Ashlyn hadn’t had an easy life; her heart was closed off and it was Damon who was slowly chipping away at her defences. As much as Ashlyn tried her hardest to look after Layla, it was in Jared and Morgana that Layla had found comfort and solace. Ashlyn didn’t need Layla; she needed Damon. In different ways, both blondes were just children trying too hard to be adults because they were, or had been, needed to act as such. Layla had been the perfect little blonde doll for her mother to pose and dress up and show off to her friends; the replacement for the impetuous and rash twins who had been born before her.

On the walk down to the stables, Lita dropped back from Rister’s side to put her arm around Layla’s shoulders in a half-hug that the smaller girl immediately shrugged off defensively. Lita was even worse than Meredith and Rister in some ways. Meredith was an idiot, true, but there was a lack of calculation and thought in her actions. There was little that Lita did without every moment being calculated and thought through in great depth. Layla normally admired that about Lita; there was little chance for error or disappointment in Lita’s life and Layla was thoroughly wary of unexpected events. Then Lita’s calculations had centred on Rister without much care for anyone else and Layla bristled at the ignoring of how Morgana might feel about her tormentor suddenly being welcomed as part of the family. It was careless and cruel, and it only made Layla feel worse to know that she understood Lita’s reasoning. Perhaps coming on the ride had been a bad idea but it was too late to change her mind now. She didn’t particularly want to anyway. She loved horses so Layla nodded at Rister in purely civil thanks as she stepped onto his palm to be boosted up into the saddle. She had chosen the pure white beauty of Beaulises once more though Layla had admittedly paused to offer a piece of sugar to Aithon also. Ashlyn hadn’t been overly fond of horseriding so Layla had taken it upon herself to adore Aithon as well as the horse she had chosen to ride for the first time.

They spent an hour in the village, during which Layla slipped away from Lita, Rister, Phia and Meredith to be in her own company. She didn’t wander far, even if she was fairly confident that no harm would come to her in the village under the protection of the Graas family. Layla had learnt to be cautious in life. After a while of wandering aimlessly, Layla settled herself on a wall, feet curled under her as she hummed a wordless tune that spilled from her lips without her even realising it. There was no crowd to mock or laugh at her, for which Layla was thankful, but there was also no Ashlyn to sigh and smile then gingerly pull Layla closer as if she were afraid the younger girl would snap at her hands like a feral animal. Out of the two of them, Layla thought wryly, the feral animal was undoubtedly Ashlyn. Ashlyn of the sharp tongue, cutting words and soft, deceptive beauty. Layla was little more than a frightened, injured mouse. She could run and cower but fighting back was beyond her capabilities. The minutes of the hour ticked by all too quickly and it was with a weary sigh as accompaniment that Layla pushed herself off the top of the wall and landed lightly on the balls of her feet. Rister and Lita would be waiting. Meredith would be hovering around them like the unwanted pest that she truly was. Except, it seemed, that Layla was the only one who didn’t want her since Rister seemed entirely unconcerned about welcoming her into his life without a second thought and Lita would never stop encouraging him to continue along that route.

“Come on now, Beaulises,” Layla coaxed persuasively, her voice quieter than the sound of hooves hitting the floor. The horse would be dealt with before Layla allowed herself to slip back to her room without being noticed. It was only considerate – Beaulises, after all, had carried Layla to the village and back without a complaint or protest so it was only right that Layla show consideration for the white mare in return. The saddle was heavy and Layla stumbled under the weight before deft hands plucked it from her grasp and out of her sight. Lita, her back already to Layla as she pulled the bridle from Beaulises’ head, shrugged defensively as if she could feel the weight of the younger Ravenclaw’s questioning gaze. “You can’t do everything yourself, kid. Just like I can’t either. Or Rister. Even Kris and Cleo rely on each other for help.” Yes, Layla silently commented bitterly, and if Lita had her way then Meredith would be at Rister’s side as his wife to offer that help to him, regardless of what she had done to Morgana and that she had yet to apologise to Morgana. There was the soft sound of a sigh then Lita’s hand pressing lightly against Layla’s shoulder before footsteps signalled that Lita had left without saying anything else or trying to further interfere in matters. Doubtlessly, Lita would be in Meredith’s allocated room until it was time to see Kris’ transformation into a majestic wolf.

Her intentions after brushing down Beaulises and leaving the stables were to have a shower and then return to the as of yet unnamed puppy and yet Layla found her feet directing her towards Rister’s room. It was time, she reluctantly concluded, to have that talk with Rister. Or to stare at him wordlessly until he let her simply sidle out of the room without telling him what she had wanted. She would much rather be with the warm, fluffy company of the puppy but Layla nevertheless perched nervously on the edge of Rister’s bed and watched him with muted unhappiness as he stepped into his bedroom and blinked at her in surprise. For a moment, the words rose up in her throat, indignant and biting and so very much like Ashlyn even to Layla’s own mind. Then she exhaled, her shoulders slumped subserviently and she scampered over to the door without saying a word. What would it matter anyway? She was only an eleven year old girl, only Ashlyn’s cousin. Layla Ellison was nothing in her own right; she knew that but she still wanted the comforting presence of Jared by her side because she had come to rely upon him to a pathetic extent.