Davebeth's Cottage

[The Forgotten Weasley]

S H O I C H E T

"продолжать бороться."
"Keep fighting."

- Stone cottage dating back to the 17th century around the time of the signature of the International Statue of Wizarding Secrecy.

- Located in Tinworth in Cornwall, England, looking out to the sea from the slope of a hill just before the grass and shrubbery begins to turn to sand.

- The cottage is perfectly visible to muggles, though there are some charms and spells in place for protection. It is also connected to the Floo Network, and can be Apparated to.

- Originally purchased by Newlyn Vass as a home for her and her sisters, primarily during the summer, when they were home from Hogwarts. Currently rented and occupied by Newlyn's younger sister, Elsie, and her husband, Dave.

Sitting Room
Kitchen
Dining Room
Guest Bathroom
Guest Bedroom
Master Bedroom
Bathroom
Study
Cellar

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

L O C A T I O N S

- E L S B E T H -
Home

- D A V E -
Home

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

P E T S

- Rollo, Elsie's cat -

- Betsy, Dave's beagle -

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

I hear singing, I hear singing-
Singing to me, the damned girl!
And to the waxing moon...
I hear the birds singing;
To my beauty, my beauty...
And to the growing night.

M O R V E N
G R A I N N E
V A S S
SLYTHERIN │ FOURTH YEAR │ BLOOD TRAITOR

Morven had never been a morning person, even before she got... sick. It was the very beginning of summer, and she'd barely been home more than a few days, after all. She saw no need to go out of her way to get up early, and she tended to be late to breakfast, coming down just as her sisters were finishing up eating and Newlyn was leaving for work. She liked it that way. She'd never been fond of the whole 'eat meals as a family' thing, after all. When her father had still been around she'd hated meals, hated being stuck at that table for at least three quarters of an hour, no one talking, no one saying anything for fear of setting him off. Besides, he'd always gave her the evil eye because she picked at her food and sometimes outright refused to eat. Now she was far less picky about her meals, but she still felt uncomfortable sitting down at a table with other people. It was much harder to escape than at Hogwarts, where no one even cared if she slipped away halfway through the meal.

She also refused to come down to breakfast until she was fully dressed and prepared for the day. Her hair could get notoriously messy from sleep and she didn't need her sisters stifling laughter at her appearance from tossing and turning all night. Not that they knew about the tossing and turning part. Her dreams were her own, not theirs to fuss over. She only left the bathroom once she was done carefully brushing her hair and arranging her bangs. She made her way into the kitchen, hearing the familiar voices and clink of dishes... and one voice she did not immediately recognize. Morven growled softly under her breath and steeled herself for whoever it was that was probably going to ruin her morning.

It was Elsie's ratty little boyfriend, though she'd never bothered to actually find out if they were officially a thing or not. Like she had the time to keep up with that sort of thing. "What's he doing here?" she asked snidely, turning most of her glare on Elsie, whose new cropped hair she was still getting used to, though her gaze kept flickering over to Newlyn, who was supervising the dishes washing themselves in the sink. After all, Elsie would never have someone over without Newlyn's permission. Even Morven wouldn't. She had a lot more respect for her eldest sister than she'd ever had for any other authority figures in her life, and she suspected part of it was also because Newlyn was a woman. If her eldest sister had been a brother she doubted she'd be half as (for the most part) respectful of her.

"Good morning to you to, Morv," the ruiner of her morning said just as snidely. He was drinking their orange juice, sitting at their kitchen counter... That better not be her plate she was eating off of, or she'd really find a use for the antique china in the cabinets."David's spending some of his summer here," Newlyn said casually, getting out a plate and glass for her youngest sister. "You could have a friend over too, if you liked."

She could have sworn rat face muttered something about her having to have actual friends for that to happen, but she decided to ignore his slander for the time being. "You're letting him stay here?" she asked derisively, probably more derisively than she should have. "Have you locked up the valuables yet?"

"Yes, Morven," Newlyn replied calmly. "And no, I haven't. I trust Elsie and I trust her friends." Dave the Knave looked almost bashful and if Elsie could have preened she would have. Morven snorted as if the whole thing was terribly amusing when really it wasn't and begrudgingly accepted pancakes doused with a liberal amount of maple syrup from Newlyn. She suspected her tolerance was being bought with good food but couldn't herself to turn them down, them or the bacon she was offered as well.

She took a seat far away from her treacherous sister and her trashy boy toy, and proceeded to eat her breakfast so aggressively that small children might have cried for the food. "So he's sleeping on the sitting room sofa, then?" she asked hopefully. "Or maybe the floor? Or the cellar? I'm sure the spiders could use the company."

"I wouldn't want to intrude on your domain," Dave sneered, while Elsie choked back a laugh by washing it down with her tea. Morven prayed they had some chamomile left because she was going to need it. "He'll have the guest room," Elsie said defensively. "And leave off him, he's not going to bother you."

"Here," said 'not going to bother her', with a smirk. "Have some orange juice, kid."

"You probably poisoned it," she muttered, before glancing over at Newlyn, who was done with the dishes and seemed to be getting ready to leave for work, desperately. "You're not seriously going to leave them without any supervision, are you? They'll be eating each other's faces off before noon. I don't need to see that." Elsie interrupted shrilly, "We will not,", while Dave looked more amused than anything else.

Newlyn seemed as though she were beginning to get a headache. "I have to go to work. I'm sure you can all figure out things to do that don't involve spiders, poison, or 'face eating'. I'll be home in time for dinner." She hugged Elsie good bye and adjusted Morven's bow before hugging her as well and smiling warmly at Dave. "Have a good day, okay?"

"Yeah- tell Miles we said hello," Morven retorted sarcastically.

"Don't worry, I will," Newlyn called over her shoulder before she left the kitchen. The three teens sat in silence, waiting to hear the whip like crack that meant she had apparated away. When they had, Elsie jumped up, stuck her and Dave's dishes in the sink, and headed out, Dave trailing after her. "Where are you two going?" Morven asked suspiciously, finishing the last of her bacon and wiping her sticky hands and mouth on a napkin before following them to the doorway.

"The beach," Elsie shot back smartly. "Dave's going to learn how to swim."

"Yay." Dave didn't sound very enthused.

"A drowning rat? Are you selling tickets? This I have to see." Morven kicked off her flats and followed them into the bright morning sunlight, which made her wince and Elsie's hair look like it was glowing. Dave shoved his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans and kicked up sand as they started down to the shoreline.

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The dearly beloved daughter,
Is now a dead and buried girl!
Tell me my girl, who has damned you?
Over there on the moor and in the corn...
Take my body, my rings, and my dress-
Under the moon they have burned with me.

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

Stretched to the core of galaxies;
Distorted city grids-
By a black hole of vanity...
Blossoms the age of greed.
Beyond the laws of density,
Towers of glass and steel.
Temples and fragments of memories;
Drifting away from me.

D A V I D
" D A V E "
S H O I C H E T
Former Gryffindor │ Muggleborn │ Hit Wizard

Dave had been with Elsie long enough; since they were sixteen, which sounded like forever but really wasn't, seeing as they were only nineteen... The point was, three years in a relationship was long enough to know when you were about to fight even before it happened. The real issue, he supposed, was that for the first six months or so of the relationship they had not fought at all, besides the usual gentle bickering. That had been partly because they had looked at one another as godlike paragons of love and beauty who could do no wrong, or some shite like that, and partly because both had been too afraid to start genuine fights for the fear of their relationship coming to a very quick, messy end.

Of course they had eventually gotten comfortable enough to really lay into each other at times, but the fights had been more energizing than anything else, because the spats were short and the makeups were long and usually thrilling. It was like when you could feel the energy in the air before a storm; Dave had looked forward to each and every fight the way some people watched for bad weather. In the end Dave would always be far more comfortable with the actual fighting, because he had grown up around it, before his dad had took off, and Elsie would always look very relieved by the end of it, because she said Dave had a habit of shutting down and not telling her what was wrong, and if screaming it at her from across the room while she yelled back was what worked...

But at some point, when they had ceased to be kids chasing storms, the fights had been less fun and more tiring, and the makeups were not enthusiastic snogging but quiet voices and avoiding each other's eyes. This fight, Dave could already tell, was going to be like a load of dead weight on them both for the rest of the week. Tomorrow they would be short and tense with one another; the day after they'd tiptoe about and pretend it had never happened, and by the day after that a fragile truce would be upheld until the next fight. This would be their first and maybe only fight of September. They'd had a long, quiet summer where both had been too busy with work to argue much, but now the weather was cooling and Elsie's work was slowing, and his work seemed much harder.

Dave didn't want to think about what the winter would be like, honestly.

And it didn't help matters, he though viciously, that Tanya and Echo had just had to get engaged at the end of July. Tanya had proposed on Echo's birthday, after everyone had left, and it made Dave sick, because he and Elsie had annoyed each other right before bed and spent the night in separate rooms staring at the walls while she was probably down on one knee. Dave knew this was horrible of him to think; Tanya and Echo had accepted him as their friend when they didn't have to, because of Elsie. They didn't deserve his silent judgement or his misdirected ire, and they were happy. Let them be f**king happy, he told himself. Echo's parents won't get to see him get married. Let them be f**king happy.

He couldn't though, he couldn't, because they were the standard, they'd been together first, they were what Elsie was always going to hold him and herself up to in inspection, and what he held her and himself up to as well. Not because they wished they were more like Tanya and Echo respectively personality wise; Dave sure as hell didn't want to be dating Tanya, and seriously doubted Elsie could even imagine being interested in Echo, who was like a brother to her. But Tanya and Echo's relationship was solid. Like rock solid, and Dave didn't think he and Elsie had ever been standing on even ground. It was always an uphill or downhill struggle, and sometimes they met on flat ground, but eventually there was an earthquake of some sort. There always was.

Tanya and Echo rarely fought, Dave was sure of it. Tanya and Echo probably always supported one another, didn't criticize one another, were a team. Dave felt as if he and Elsie were on the same team, but certainly not playing the same position, and generally arguing over whose position was more important and/or better. Well if you're so miserable, he mockingly asked himself, if you're both so sick of each other, why don't you break up? But he wasn't miserable, not really. He wasn't sick of Elsie, he was sick of the stage they were stuck in, the 'everyone we know is getting married and we're still fighting over each other's jobs and who was supposed to wash the dishes and why did you say that and what did you mean and wait where are you going don't leave I'm sorry I didn't mean it (I meant it) come back I'm so tired'.

"You're home," Elsie said in surprise, coming into the living room. "I thought you'd be late again tonight." Her tone was light enough but she had her hands on her hips and Dave said, "Sorry to let you down," more sarcastically then he really meant to, and now she looked annoyed.

"Stop it, you're always in such a mood when you get home from work." Her voice was tightly laced with disapproval, and Dave felt like a rebellious preteen sitting in detention and snapped, "My work is stressful."

"How could I have forgotten, it's all you ever talk about-,"

"I'm just saying my job consists of more than standing behind a counter every day smiling at customers-,"

"For Merlin's sake, David, this again?! I thought we agreed-,"

"I didn't agree, you went on and on about-,"

In between working up to a proper shouting match, Dave summoned up the last of his good humor to think, And they're off, in the voice of one those announcers at horse races, but it wasn't as funny as he'd hoped it would have been.

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I'm ready to start the conquest of spaces;
Expanding between you and me.
Come with the night; the science of fighting-
The forces of gravity.
After the gates of prophecies...
A million light years away from me...
Straight for the eye of destiny;
Reaching the point of tears.

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

I found a little plot of land in the Garden of Eden,
It was dirt and dirt is all the same; I tilled it with my two hands.
And I called it my very own, there was no one to dispute my claim.
You'd be shocked at the state of things: the whole place had just cleared right out-
In my garden; start again; in my heart and into every heart but one...
Meet me in the Garden of Eden, and be sure to bring a friend!
We are gonna have ourselves a time; we are gonna have a garden party.

E L S B E T H
L Y N W E N
V A S S
FORMER HUFFLEPUFF │ BLOOD TRAITOR │ F & B CASHIER AND TUTOR

Elsie slipped in through the front door with a quiet sigh of relief. It had been a long, slow work day, and she'd spent most of her time in the backroom sorting new books. Not exactly hard work, she reminded herself ruefully, compared to what Dave did. But it got a bit mind numbing after a while. She'd started inventing stories in her head, which she'd done all the time as a child but now rarely did, just to keep herself from completely zoning out. Or did that still count as zoning out?

Dave's coat was on the back of the couch, so he was home. She was glad; his hours were odd sometimes, and he'd been working a lot more since the prison break. She kept hoping he wouldn't be assigned to go after any of the escapees, but it was hoping in vain, and Elsie had been trying not to do that as much. She slipped off her shoes and shoved them messily next to Dave's boots, and padded into the kitchen, murmuring 'food' under her breath. She sat on a stool and ate a pear thoughtfully, watching the waves crash on the beach out the window.

Elsie let her braid down in the bathroom and washed off her makeup, scrubbing at her eyes and mouth until they were red. Then she wandered into her room, where Dave lay on her bed. Dave, she thought, did not sleep the way she had always assumed boys slept; sprawled out, taking up most of the room on the bed, kicking covers around. Instead he slept curled up on his side, almost delicately, on the very edge of the bed, as if he might at any moment fall off. He was in a tee shirt and sweat pants, and his hair was over his eyes.

She kicked off her skinny jeans and riffled through a drawer for a pair of pajama shorts, too lazy to change out of her blouse, though she did remove her jewelry, scattering it across the night table. Then she climbed onto the bed and wavered before just lying with her back up against his, feeling the ridge of his spine meet her own.

"Beth?" he murmured, sounding as if he were still mostly asleep, and she hummed in assent. She expected him to drift out but instead she felt him stir and reach for his watch. "What time?"

"Not that late," she whispered. "Go back to sleep. I'll get up and make dinner soon. I just want to nap a little. Sorry. It was a long day."

"What're you apologizing for?" he asked sleepily, rolling over to look at her, but she was still facing away from him. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into a half embrace, his forehead pressed against the back of her neck.

"You sound exhausted," she whispered back. "I feel bad."

"S'not your fault."

They stayed like that for a moment, breathing in unison, and Elsie felt an ache in her chest for a moment and started to cry in spite of herself. She didn't make any noise, but he must have been able to tell, because he propped himself up on one elbow, holding her with the other arm, his voice more solid and less raspy with sleep. "Beth. What's wrong."

"Nothing," she whispered. "It was just a long day."

"Beth, look at me. C'mon."

She turned her head to look at him and his tense expression crumpled into one of overwhelming protectiveness. "What happened?" he asked, pulling her to him. "Did something happen at work?"

"No," she sobbed in a whisper just above silence. "No, I just- I'm sorry. I'm being silly, okay? I should get up."

He tangled his shorter legs with her own when she tried to rise and she let herself collapse against his chest. She imagined could hear his heartbeat, racing in her ear like a drum. "Sh*t," he whispered. "Sh*t." She heard him inhale and then exhale. "F**k, no, I'm sorry. I've been such a f**king arsehole to you for the past few weeks."

"No you haven't."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Yeah, I have. F**k!" he snapped in a slightly harsher tone, but she knew it wasn't directed at her. "I... It's just been work, and everything- f**k, no, that's not right. It's not- I shouldn't make excuses. I've been a d**k."

"I always want to help you," she whispered. "But sometimes you won't let me."

"I know. I know. I... I don't know how, I guess. I-,"

"I feel bad when I complain about work," Elsie admitted. "I know it's not... it's nothing compared to what you do."

"Beth!" He tried to sit up with her lying on him, then gave up. "No. No. Your work- whatever you choose to do is just as important as what I do. I only... I give you sh*te about your work because I've- because I'm so f**king insecure, and I feel like you could do so much better. Than me. Than everything."

She sobbed again, but it was one of relief. "I love you. How can you do better than someone you love? You can't. It's not all you. I shouldn't compare us. I always do. I'm sorry I've been pressuring you about getting married-,"

Now it was as if it were a race to see who could confess the most first.

"I'm sorry I didn't go to that wedding."

"I'm sorry I gave you the cold shoulder at New Year's."

"I'm sorry I got drunk."

"I'm sorry I threw out your f*gs."

At some point she had stopped crying and he had started and they stared at each other as if seeing one another for the first time, in a sort of hazy confusion and fascination, and pressed their lips together almost experimentally before breaking apart.

"We shouldn't," he stated. "Makeup sex," now he'd adopted an almost ministerial tone.

"Is problem avoidance sex," she giggled, and then said, "Good. I'm tired, anyways."

"Can we have midnight dinner?" he asked, getting into a more comfortable sleeping position, entwined with her, her braid tickling his face.

"Yes," she said, and pecked him on the nose. "But now sleep."

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We broke our hearts in the war between St. George and the dragon,
But both in equal parts are welcome; I'm inviting everyone.
Farewell to loves that I have known, even muddy as waters run...
Tell me, what is meant by sitting alone; the unending amends you made,
Are enough for one life; be done, I believe in innocence, little darlin'; start again.
I believe in everyone, I believe, regardless of what they've done.

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

Do I stress you out?
My sweater is on backwards and inside out!
And you say "how appropriate."
I don't want to dissect everything today...
I don't mean to pick you apart you see...
But I can't help it.

M O R V E N
G R A I N N E
V A S S
FORMER SLYTHERIN │ BLOOD TRAITOR │ WITCH WATCHER

Morven was already not in the best of moods, as it was a hot, dry summer morning, and it turned out she had far more things at the cottage than she had expected. It was Elsie's day off, and she had elected to help Morven organize and pack up her things, as she'd be moving out very soon, having just received noticed that she'd gotten a job. She was obviously thrilled about it, but she was less thrilled at the heat and her older sister, even though she had to admit she desperately needed the help. Neither of them were particularly neat, however, and in the past two hours they'd gotten little done.

Elsie sat on a box in the living room and groaned, readjusting her ponytail keeping her thick blonde hair off her back. All of the windows and doors were open and it was still very, very warm out, and what should have been a cool breeze from the sea was instead a dry wind. "How many clothes can you possibly have?" She looked over at Morven, who was still rooting through the trunk that had served as her main piece of luggage for the past seven years. The eighteen year old decided it was best to ignore the blonde's complaints for now, since otherwise she might scream, and she was close to getting out of Tinworth forever, too.

"We should have asked Newlyn," Elsie said when it was obvious Morven didn't plan on answering her mostly rhetorical but all the same incredulous question. "She's... organized."

"Yeah," Morven muttered, still bent over the trunk; so that was where her Herbology textbook had been, all this time... "I definitely should have asked her."

Elsie thought it best to just let that passive aggressive comment go; though she was obviously not that happy at the moment, Morven had been in a far better mood than usual all week, and she didn't want to ruin it now. Had this been three years ago they already would have been at each other's throats. Best to savor the fact that they had at least taken a few steps forward since then.

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Diamond Wales

There I go jumping before the gunshot has gone off;
Slap me with a splintered ruler!
And it would knock me to the floor if I wasn't there already.
If only I could hunt the hunter...
And all I really want is some patience;
A way to calm the angry voice.

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

I never thought that you would be the one to hold my heart-
But you came around and you knocked me off the ground from the start.
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go...
You put your arms around me and I'm home.
How many times will you let me change my mind and turn around?
I can't decide if I'll let you save my life or if I'll drown-
I hope that you see right through my walls.

N E W L Y N
T A R A
V A S S
FORMER HUFFLEPUFF │ BLOOD TRAITOR │ OWNER OF DOMINIC MAESTRO'S

Newlyn was trying and failing to reassure herself that she was not nervous at the prospect of telling her sisters that she was engaged. She was twenty four years old, and she was not going to let their potential reactions control her. Besides, she had raised them, and as much as she had tried to step out of the parental role, she privately admitted that part of her would always see them as children, and children didn't scold their parents. It wasn't that she was unhappy to engaged; on the contrary, she was thrilled. She knew she wasn't the most open with her emotions and bubbly person, but she genuinely very, very happy at the prospect of spending the rest of her life with Miles. Besides, she felt like she was ready to get married, which had most certainly not been the case when she was fresh out of Hogwarts, Miles being two years her junior anyways.

But now she felt like the divorced parent who had to tell their bratty children they were remarrying, and Miles was the unwitting soon to be stepdad. These were not assigned roles she was particularly happy about, but she was all her sisters really had by way of biological family, and they had always clung to her as such. She was dropping the Vass name as soon as she got married; she'd been disgusted with her surname for as long as she could remember, and the knowledge that she and her sisters were the last remaining Vasses, and the surname would die with them, did not bother her at all. Good. Some things needed to be put to rest. She was more than ready to move on with her life, and she didn't want her children to have that hanging over their heads like some dead weight.

Miles reached the door just before her, and Newlyn really hoped Morven was not the one to answer. Actually, she hoped Morven (because honestly they all knew who was going to react far more negatively, and it wasn't Elsie), directed all of her ire at her, and not her fiance. She highly doubted Morven even disliked Miles as much as she claimed to, and she knew the teenager didn't hate him, because she knew Morven and she knew what hate looked like, but that didn't mean she wanted him glowering at Miles for the next year or so... and all through the wedding... and at the birth of any future children... Just... no. One thing Morven could do was hold a grudge, but Newlyn knew her younger sister could never stay upset with her for long, so better she be angry with her and not as much with Miles.

...However, Newlyn also knew what wishful thinking sounded like. Even in her own head.

"It'll be fine," she said breezily, squeezing his hand laced with hers, and didn't believe herself at all. The door wasn't immediately answered, and Newlyn shrugged and tried the knob, knowing very well that Elsie rarely locked it. It opened and she shook her head a little, before stepping inside. "Els? Morv?" she called out, and suspected she had just interrupted the start of an argument at the sudden silence that greeted her before Elsie called back in greeting. Her and Morven were both far past the age of running up to greet Newlyn whenever she appeared, and she walked cautiously into the space that constituted the living room, marveling at what looked like the aftermath of a hurricane. Elsie was standing as if she had just jumped to her feet like a guilty child caught slacking off, and Morven was sitting on her knees on the floor next to her old school trunk. Maybe Newlyn had never been a Ravenclaw, but she could put two and two together.

"You're packing?" she asked, a little surprised at how quickly Morven was moving. It seemed like she had graduated just the other day, and now she had a job in the Ministry and was leaving what had been 'home' since she was around twelve or thirteen. Her baby sister was suddenly not a schoolgirl but a woman starting her career and it was a bit disconcerting to see the proof of it. ...Even if she still couldn't pack to save her life, and neither could Elsie.

"Trying to," Morven grumbled, but she looked shocked to see Miles with Newlyn, as if seeing an old teacher at the greengrocer's. It was as if she thought the two of them never left the shop, and that Miles didn't exist outside of Hogsmeade. Then her pale blue eyes narrowed in suspicion, and Newlyn internally groaned. "What're you two doing here? Swinging by for brunch?", she asked sarcastically, if a little uneasily, unceremoniously dropping a textbook on the floor beside her.

Newlyn willed herself not to look down at her own engagement ring, and Morven didn't wait for a response before demanding, "Why's he nervous? I can smell it."

Just what everyone wanted, a little sister with supersenses. Elsie was looking curiously between her, Miles, and Morven with slightly wide eyes, as if watching a never before seen Greek drama, and Newlyn decided ripping the band aid off was their best bet. "We came by because we have something we need to tell you. Both of you," she amended.

Elsie held her tongue but Morven got to her feet. "I swear to the gods, if you're pregnant-," she started irritably, and Newlyn thought then perhaps the ripping off of the band aid needed to go a little quicker.

"I'm not pregnant." She held up the hand with her engagement ring wordlessly, bracing herself. Elsie immediately shrieked in delight, at the exact same time that Morven said, "What," in a possibly dangerous tone.

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Diamond Wales

I hope that you catch me 'cause I'm already falling...
I'll never let another love get so close.
The world is coming down on me and I can't find a reason to be loved;
I never wanna leave you but I can't make you bleed if I'm alone.
I tried my best to never let you in to see the truth...
I've never truly loved 'til you put your arms around me.

 

[The Forgotten Weasley]

Do I stress you out?
My sweater is on backwards and inside out!
And you say "how appropriate."
I don't want to dissect everything today...
I don't mean to pick you apart you see...
But I can't help it.

M O R V E N
G R A I N N E
V A S S
FORMER SLYTHERIN │ BLOOD TRAITOR │ WITCH WATCHER

Morven had known something was up the moment she smelled Newlyn and Miles, together. The blending of their scents was always slightly disconcerting, especially since at times she could smell Newlyn on Miles and Miles on Newlyn. The same went for every couple she encountered, but it was especially annoying when it was your sister. And when they both smelled nervous? She could practically taste Newlyn's nerves in the air but Miles reeked of it. And he wasn't an especially nervous, anxious person, so Morven thought she could be excused for her hackles raising and jumping to some conclusions.

She almost growled when Miles laughed at her half threat about the possibility of Newlyn being pregnant. Sorry she didn't know what pregnant smelled like. And with him looking like he might piss himself at any moment, she thought it had been a pretty logical guess. She wanted to tell him where he could shove his own 'sniffer', but Newlyn would be annoyed with her for mouthing off to her boyfriend, so she settled for a sarcastic, "Congratulations on not knocking up my sister, Miles." Then she caught a flash of something shiny on Newlyn's hand, and her heart sank, followed by her ears ringing from Elsie's shriek. Miles was wincing himself and he was further away from the blonde. Morven nearly slapped her to get her to shut up.

But Elsie's shriek died away soon enough, and she was attacking first Newlyn, then Miles with a hug. "You two," she blurted out in delight. "You really are engaged?! That's amazing!" Newlyn blushed faintly while Elsie beamed, but the eldest Vass sister's attention was primarily focused on Morven, and for good reason. She was practically seething. Elsie quickly caught onto this and quieted a little, wary that the youngest Vass was about to blow up at all of them, but Morven managed to hold her tongue. For a few moments, anyways.

What, did they expect her to happily congratulate them? F**k no! Her own pack mate was stealing her sister, who would take on his ridiculous Irish surname (regardless of the fact that the Vasses were part Irish themselves), and have stupid pups with him (regardless of the fact that their children would be entirely human). Before Morven had been a monster and had a pack, all she'd had was Newlyn. There was no mum, no dad, just her older sister. Newlyn was the one who had read her bedtime stories and comforted her after nightmares. Newlyn was the one who had admired her scribbles and listened to her whine and told her she was loved, and clever, and brave, and that no one was going to get in her way because she wouldn't let them.

And now Newlyn was engaged to stupid Miles (though she knew it could have been far worse), and she was going to get married, and have her own happy little family, and she wouldn't bother with her sisters again. Morven felt she had some proof of this already. Newlyn had pulled back once Elsie had become an adult, as if to say, 'this is no longer in my hands'. She'd slipped out of the role she'd been in, been forced into, Morven admitted to herself, through necessity, and was obviously trying to cultivate more of a sisterly relationship with the younger Vasses and less of a parental one. And Morven knew sisters weren't supposed to react like this to each other's engagements.

But what could they say? 'Our family will never not be dysfunctional?' Boy oh boy, was Miles in for a fun time.

"Not in the mood to hear- I don't think there's a mood to be in to hear this," she snapped. "Deceased, possibly. That might be a good mood, as in, not a mood at all. This has nothing to do with me being busy, McLellan." He could earn back being called by his first name after he apologized for stealing her sister.

"Morven," Newlyn sighed under her breath, but didn't sound terribly shocked.

"And you! Isn't this cradle robbing- how old is he, like eighteen?" she demanded, knowing full well that Miles was not, in fact, eighteen.

"He's twenty two, Morv," Newlyn muttered. "And I'm twenty four. As I'm sure you're aware." She seemed to have taken a course of action that involved not trying to argue with her sister and instead shooting down her accusations as they appeared.

"Who gets married at twenty four?!"

"Our parents got married before-," Elsie just couldn't help herself.

Morven glowered at her, and the blonde rolled her eyes. "They're getting married, not leaving the country. You could at least pretend to be happy-,"

"Sorry I'm the only sane one in this family," she spat. "It's not like getting married even means anything; it's just an excuse for her to leave us."

Not much provoked Newlyn's ire. She was naturally patient and inclined to remain calm, which had served her very well over the years. It took a special kind to have handled both Elsie and Morven combined over the past eighteen years. But some things still stung enough to make her snap, and Morven's insinuation that she was just itching to get away from them and settled into her own life was one of them. "Morven," she said sharply, without even raising her voice, and a bit despairingly, because as hard as she tried it sounded like a parent rebuking a child, and not a sister snapping at a sister.

Morven was still enough of a child at eighteen to go quiet, and Newlyn took advantage of it now, because she doubted that would be the case five years from now. "You know that's not true at all. I love you. Both of you. But I love Miles too, and if him and I decide we want to get married- and we have- it doesn't mean I am leaving anyone. I'm not leaving either of you behind, okay? I'm not going to replace you with some new family. This," she said a bit shakily, nodding around the messy room and the four of them, "Is our family now."

Morven tore her gaze away from her sister and stared at the floor as if it had just said something interesting.

OOC:

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Diamond Wales

There I go jumping before the gunshot has gone off;
Slap me with a splintered ruler!
And it would knock me to the floor if I wasn't there already.
If only I could hunt the hunter...
And all I really want is some patience;
A way to calm the angry voice.