Carrow Hall

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Goia

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Goia sat on the top step of the staircase with his head in his hands. He loved his mistress very much but he worried she wasn't going off her rocker sometimes. These thoughts made him deeply ashamed and all he wanted to do after thinking them was to bash his cranium off of something hard but she had made him swear that he would not do anything like this ever again as he might frighten Christian by his behaviour. Goia would never in his wildest dreams hurt that boy, he adored him. There were traits of his great-grandfather in him already and Goia had high hopes for him when he grew up.

No, Goia was very worried and it all had to do with Tristan Drage and how he affected his mistresses mind set. He was not good for her and never had been, she was completely different when he was around and Goia did not like this. He knew he had helped in getting the recipe and ingredients for the potion but now that he was administering the concoction every morning to the man, Goia felt awful about it. More so because Christian was fast becoming attached to him and that would never do. Goia was no fool and knew that someday Thorine would want to stop the potion altogether in the hopes that Tristan would stay with them of his own accord but he had the feeling that Tristan would be out of here as fast as he possibly could. If he were to be truthful he was more worried that the insufferable man would take Christian and there was no way Goia would let that happen ever.

He sighed, his charge was fast asleep in his bed. Not a sound from him. He was a remarkable boy even now.
 
Tristan felt as if someone had popped off the top of his head and grabbed hold of his brain, squeezing and squishing it until it was more like a pile of spaghetti noodles. It was a wonder that he had been able to apparate back to Carrow Hall at all. If he was lucky, Thorine wouldn't be home yet. By some miracle he managed to find himself in the cellar, where there was a nice stash of different types of alcohol. If he was ever held under the potion again, he would hopefully be able to remember the one small detail that alcohol was good, very good.

Wrapping his fingers around the neck of a bottle of something potent, he found himself looking for a place to stash the alcohol. Josh's advice was the only scrap of sanity he had left. When he placed it somewhere he thought that Thorine or the house elves would never look, he trudged to the second place he could think of.

He was quiet as he slipped into Christian's room, knowing that his young son would probably be sound asleep. He was oblivious to the presence of the house elf as he stepped to the toddler's crib. Tristan's large hands gripped the bars, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. The man hated what he would inevitably have to do- leave Christian. The thought was too much for him to bear. Picking up his son in one fell swoop, he brought the boy to his chest gently.

Tristan knew that his love for his son was genuine, the same affection he harbored towards his other children. In another world, he had left Julie with a baby on the way, not to mention Erik and Eliza. Here, he had Christian. Two completely different lives were laid at his feet, and he would have to make a decision all too soon. He would be able to properly choose only if the potion hadn't put him into a laudanum-like stupor.

As he trailed a finger across Christian's soft cheek, a tear fell from Tristan's good eye. A single tear soon developed into an army. He wept silently, not wanting to wake his son. He couldn't remember the last time he had cried, well, really cried. His face was soon sodden with moisture. Taking a seat in the chair next to Christian's crib, he sat in the dark with his son. Thorine would be home soon. Everything was coming too soon.
 
Goia heard the movement inside Christian's room and knew the man was back. Why he had returned without Mistress Dolohov was beyond him, perhaps he was getting on her nerves at last. She was certainly fed up with the 'yes love' 'no love' routine. Goia entered the room and bristled. The smell of alcohol was strong, Drage had so obviously been drinking and now he was blubbering like a baby over the young master. Goia walked over very carefully and put his hands out.
"I will put the master back into his crib. I think you need to go to your room sir" he spoke with the voice of a servant with years, centuries of training yet Goia felt anything but that right now. He was first and foremost Christian's protector, his mistress had made him promise her this and he would be so until his very last breath.

"It is not fair on the young master to be woken like this" he stepped closer straining his arms more to take Christian, "Why are you crying sir?"

Goia had yet to call Drage 'master' and knew he never would. Potion or not.
 
Tristan was startled when Thorine's house elf appeared out of nowhere with his arms outstretched. The flow of tears did not cease, simply lessened. He stared down at Goia with eyes that his son also had, except they were filled with much more complex feelings. How nice it would be to be an infant again, without a care in the world and needing only the simplest of things. His gaze was filled with both remorse and frustration, for what he had done to Julie, Thorine, and sweet, sweet Christian. Through the muddled mess of his mind he managed to hand Christian to Goia. As difficult as it was to have his son removed from his arms, he knew that the house elf adhered to real sense.

Bringing a hand to his face, Tristan tried to wipe away as much of his tears as he could. His face was still a wet mess, but he no longer wept. "Why am I crying? I don't know. In fact, I don't know a lot of things." His eyes narrowed a bit as he looked to the house elf. "I don't know what month it is. I don't know what I've done- in a decent stretch of time. I don't know if tomorrow morning, I'll be nothing better than a dog once more."
 
Goia took Christian very carefully and walking on his short stubby legs made his way over to the crib and gently placed his charge inside. He turned to the blubbering buffoon who began moaning about his lack of memory and Goia knew instantly that the effects of the alcohol had lessened the effects of the potion. He walked steadily to the door.
"Follow me sir" he held the door open and waited for Drage to step through, he would not risk disturbing Christian any further and if his mistress got it into her head to apparate into her sons bedroom to check on him, Goia did not want her catching him doing what he knew had to be done.
"Dogs have it a bit better than that Mr. Drage. We must hurry now".
 
Tristan's good eye followed his son as the small creature placed his son back in his crib. It was a marvel how long and hard young children slept. Christian hadn't stirred a bit during this whole episode. Quite dazed, he stared down at Goia for a moment, until he managed to come to his own two feet. Lead blocks seemed to have been tied to his toes as he followed the house elf, his desperation evaporated and replaced with curiosity.

It was obvious just how much the house elf adored him. Tristan had grown up with respect for house elves, but when it came right down to it, they were still servants. He followed Goia with uncertainty- the short being was Thorine's lapdog after all. The last thing Tristan should probably have done was trust him, but taking the house elf's advice was really his only option.

The large man managed to pick up his pace, and took some care to make sure that his footsteps were softer. "Where are you taking me?" he murmured, more of a question to himself than to the house elf. He was viewing everything in Carrow Hall with new eyes, despite the fact that he had spent a great deal of time within it.
 
"You will see" was all the house elf muttered, he knew he had to act fast now before his mistress returned. Though since the Drage man had gone deeper and deeper into the potion she had returned home later and later, as if she was angry with herself for the puppet she had created and could not face him.
"I am sorry but I must do this" Goia hobbled over and holding the man's arm apparated down to the kitchens.
"We have little time. My mistress is my life. My master is only Christian Dolohov. You are not but you are his father. This is true. You crushed my mistress when you left her, she was never the same person. She kills with more abandon now than ever before" this should have cheered Goia up no end but it did not, Thorine was beginning to relish each kill and thirst for the next. She no longer bothered to even torture any more.
"Christian is a great influence on her, he keeps her more darker nature at bay. But it is only because of your son that she considered finding you again. She knows of your muggle wife and could easily have destroyed the woman but instead, she opted for having you by any means necessary. Every morning you are given a glass of pumpkin juice by myself. She has brewed a batch of Aphrodite potion and administers it herself before giving me the juice to give to you. From now on I will switch the juice on my way to you"
he turned as if he had heard a noise but on being reassured otherwise looked back at Drage.

"When you're mind returns to what it should be you will leave us and not harm her. She thought she loved you. It hurts her every day to see you become a bigger fool because of the potion. She does not like seeing you like this and has expressed her desire time and again to take you off the potion but she is afraid that you will go straight back to your wife. Now, I think she won't mind so much. Providing you do not take Christian" Goia stared hard and heavy at the man now, this was Goia's only reason for helping him.
"Christian stays where he is meant to stay here, the heir to the Dolohov and Carrow estates. You in time I am sure will be allowed to visit with him again. My mistress will be sending for you daughter Estrella to visit Christian this summer if she cares to. She is not completely cruel. She is also going to invite his grandfather here to see him."

Goia stood completely still waiting now for the Drage man to speak.
 
Tristan didn't resist the house elf as he grabbed hold of his arm. For having sticklike limbs, Goia sure had some strength. He wondered if the house elf was always like that, or if the power behind his hold was intentional. Normally apparating wouldn't be a problem for the large man, but the mix of alcohol and potion made him nauseous. As he was popped down to the kitchen he keeled over, feeling as if he were going to lose all the contents of his dinner. After a few moments he regained his composure and managed to keep everything down. His stomach protested him with discontent.

He was quiet as he listened to what the house elf had to tell him. Tristan had never stuck with any one woman for more than one night, except in a few circumstances. Thorine had not been different from most of his relationships. It was her fault for keeping her expectations too high, right? Tristan was starting to disbelieve this, especially after what he had been through with Morgase and Julie. His mouth was dry as he tried to speak.

"I am sorry for what I did to her," he finally managed to say. "And I hold love for Christian, there is no doubt about it. If the situation had been any different, things may have worked differently." Could work differently. But could he have such a blight as abandoning his wife, kids and unborn child on his already bloated conscience? If he really wanted to, he could drop his new life entirely and start a new one.

Shifting uncomfortably, he said, "I- do not know how to thank you." Tristan was well aware that the house elf was doing this for Thorine, not for him, but he had to be grateful for any help he could get. "I need the ability to think for myself. To decide what I want to do."

He listened as the house elf told him that arrangements had been made. Well, Valcan would be delighted to have another pureblood grandson. He wasn't so sure what he thought about Estrella being in close proximity with Thorine, but it would probably be a good thing for Christian to at least have some sort of relationship with his sister. Keeping Goia's gaze, he stated firmly, "I would not take any child from their mother."
 
Goia bristled the truth was he did not want Christian taken from him, as much as he worshipped his mistress the house elf completely and utterly adored the young master. Seeing in him the likeness of his infamous great-grandfather Antonin Dolohov. Goia nodded his head impatiently with the man.
"Think for yourself how novel" he muttered under his breath before speaking louder for Drage to hear, "I'll not be needing your thanks. What I do goes against every principle and ethical reasoning of a house elf. My old master would be disgusted with me, I have no choice but to inflict severe punishment on myself later but I know in time she will understand what I had to do and why. It will be my own fault if she sets me free, even after all this time.Do not fool yourself either. It would never have worked out between you and my mistress".

Goia knew this as the sun rose in the morning and the moon at night. The pair of them were too alike when in their Death Eater 'mode' it had been like having Salazare and Alecto under the one roof again. Deadly, dangerous and disgustingly lustful at every turn. Thorine was no more good at playing at being in love than they had been. They had mattered to one another but love had never really factored into it. It had been the coming together of two great families and nothing more. At least Christian was a pureblood, anything else would have been nothing short of a disgrace.
"The kitchen and Christian's room are the only place where there is no family portraits hung so we should be alright for now. They can't tell on us just yet so you should have time to play this out. As you have reduced the effects greatly already with alchohol" Goia clicked his fingers and a glass of chilled milk appeared in his hands. A devilish look appeared on his face.
"The anti-dote is sometimes simpler than we realise. Drink it and by morning you will be perfectly fine. I will switch as I have said biding you time tomorrow. She goes to the Leaky always early, so say your goodbyes to Christian and leave. Do not return unless she actually sends for you or ... I come to you to let you know it is alright to see him".

Goia did not care for the man's feelings towards the young master, Drage was nothing to him but he mattered to Christian.
 
Tristan's eyes narrowed as Goia rejected his words of gratitude. Well, he wouldn't attempt to go over the required politeness anymore. The mutual dislike between the two of them was almost overbearing. He listened to what the house elf had to say, knowing that Thorine would likely set Goia free or worse, kill him. Tristan had heard of some families killing their house elves and putting their heads on plaques. The thought revolted him, though with Thorine's bloodlines it probably wouldn't be below them.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Tristan did not reach out for the glass of milk. "We cannot do it that way," he said bluntly, "She will know and have both of our heads as trophies." In truth, he did not care much what happened to the house elf, but doing things so rashly would prove disastrous. Tristan needed time to plan his escape. "If we wait a while she will think that I have become resistant to the potion." He also wanted to spend at least some more time with Christian before the boy was out of his life forever. Thorine would probably be none the wiser, he spent the great majority of his time at home anyways. Tristan stood tall, unwilling to back down. There was no way he was just going to take off tomorrow morning.
 
Goia would have liked nothing more than to push his case further and if the Drage man was still even half way under the influence he might have had a chance but clearly it was wearing vastly thin.
"Fine if this is what you wish" he did not know himself if he would be able to play along with this new charade though, "How long do you think you will need to do this for? a few days, a week, a few weeks? A time frame is necessary."
Goia did not want his young master getting more attached than he already was to his father, it would serve him no good and he would most certainly be deeply hurt when the wretched man finally did leave to return to his filthy muggle wife. Goia wanted nothing more than to throw up just thinking about the woman. How any man could choose a disgusting muggle over his beautiful pureblood mistress was quite frankly beyond him.

"It is best if we have a date to work towards".
 
Tristan bit his lip. After a moment he murmured, "A few weeks. Three at the most. That will give her enough time to see that the potion is failing." This would also give him ample time to say goodbye to Christian. The little boy would not have any memories of him. It was both a good and bad thing, he supposed.

The house elf would have to do a great amount of acting on his part, Tristan mused, though he would have to do much of that on his own too. He turned away from Goia for a moment, focusing on nothing in particular. It would not do for him to start crying again. He felt as if his heart had simply refused to keep working, the little cogs and pieces that kept it together had broken and crumpled and leaving the machine a useless mess. He didn't believe all of what Goia had said- he was a miserable old thing anyways- and thought that in another situation and life, he and Thorine may have worked. But this was just not to be.

Twisting his body back around, he stated clearly, "I suppose I should drink that milk now."
 
Goia considered for a moment and concurred that three weeks was indeed alright. It would be more than enough time for Thorine to suspect nothing hopefully unless of course she decided to use her powers on either of them, he knew she would at the drop of a hat if she suspected any foul play at all.
"We must be very careful, she is very sharp. We must give her no cause to suspect us or neither of us might get out of this alive" he didn't doubt that for a moment. He had seen how remarkably austere and terrifying she was, as beautiful as she appeared he knew the more she trekked down the path that her family had marked out for her she was would slowly begin to lose those looks, just like her mother had. She would become sordid and ugly from the joy of killing and torturing. As much as he feared her, he admired her and wanted his charge to be exactly like her. What was the death of a few muggles or mudbloods anyhow, she was cleansing the world of the filth.

Goia turned back to the glass on the table and pushed it to Tristan Drage.
"Yes drink it but remember if she suspects you for even a second she will wade through your mind to see if you are still her willing puppet. Remember to always say love after every sentence. It is what you have been doing practically since you got here. Try and have a vague expression on you as well and play often with Christian this will help to distract her from you. Be loving and attentive but always submissive as if you are her loyal servant and not a real man. Do you understand all of this?"
 
A door slammed shut up stairs and footsteps sounded down the main stairwell. Thorine had finally returned home and was not pleased to find her son on his own. She had looked in her bedroom and there had been no sign of Tristan. Surely he would have returned by now. She was annoyed after such a stupid night.
"Tristan, Goia" she called out, not caring if her voice woke the entire household up. Christian's room was sound proof charmed, so he would sleep like a log.
She pinched the bridge of her nose finding the absence of the two rather annoying to say the least.
 
Tristan was glad that Goia did not argue with him. The large man hoped that he wasn't wrong after all. He would be no good to his family or Christian, for that matter, if he was dead. It would be the same predicament for Goia, whom he suspected had been working for Thorine's family for ages. Tristan nodded in agreement. He did not say anything however, his blue gaze (well, the better half of it) falling to the table.

He reached for the glass, his large fingers wrapping around the slippery surface. This was it, his ticket to freedom. Yet it also meant he would have to be more careful. He would have to act like the perfect, loyal idiot, which was almost as bad as being one in the first place. But it was better than ending up dead, right? If he died there would be no one to protect his family. He had a feeling that Thorine would have no qualms about hunting them down.

Swirling around the white substance, he raised it in a sort of toast to Goia before throwing it back. He had to swallow it as quickly as he could. Milk was not a taste that he liked, though he was usually never picky about what he put into his body. He wiped off his lips with the back of his hand and refrained from belching. It would be most unbecoming.

After making sure that everything was going to stay down, he pushed the glass back to the house elf. "I understand," he said, already able to feel a film building at the back of his throat. "And every room besides this one and Christian's has a portrait, you said?" He would have to be extra careful then. He had never really liked portraits, they were nosy, bragged most of the time and could not keep secrets. They would probably watch Tristan like a hawk. Any change they saw in him he was sure would get back to Thorine.

He attempted a confused expression, although it was difficult to morph from the stoic features of his bloodline. Now that he had his mind back, he did not want to lose it again. The only comfort was that he would be able to spend the next few weeks with Christian. "I will do as you say. A servant? What was my voice like?" He grimaced, knowing this was going to be a rather distasteful task. He hoped that he didn't have to put on a whiny voice or something as equally as bad.

He froze as Thorine's voice echoed down the halls and reached his ears. "sh1t. I should head upstairs," he whispered, knowing that it would be best to jump right into bed so that Thorine would think he had been sleeping soundly.
 
Goia wanted to roll his eyes and kick the silly man in the shins but as Goia practically only reached there he decided against this move. Instead he merely nodded his head and repeated as before that yes the portraits were hung everywhere but the kitchen and Christians room.
"But also the bathrooms. What maniac would want family pictures in their bathroom?" what kind of household did the man think he was staying in? The Dolohov's were a decent formidable pureblood race of near-do-wells, he was lucky to have had a child with one of them at all.

He considered a moment what way the Drage man had talked before he continued.
"Very droll, all the time. Even when you were embracing and kissing my mistress you still spoke very mono tonal, almost deadpan. You spoke a bit like I do" he smiled waiting for the man's reaction to this particular bit of insight. A door slamming and his mistress calling out set him into motion immediately.

"You will not go anywhere. She will have gone to the chambers she shares with you after looking in on Christian. Why else is she calling out for you? Stay still, put your head in your hands and feign a headache from the alcohol. I will do the rest. Hurry she comes".

Goia clicked his fingers and instantly the glass of milk disappeared and a glass of water appeared in its stead. He held it up to the Drage man with a sardonic look on his face, falling neatly into his roll of despising the man perfectly. The fact that he didn't have to do much acting helped greatly.
 
Tristan chuckled a bit as Goia commented that no portraits inhabited the bathrooms. "Touche," he laughed, the first true smile in ages slipping onto his face. He listened with an air of good humor- he would go crazy if he didn't allow himself a few laughs before the second part of this ordeal after all- as Goia explained what his voice was supposed to be like.

"So I speak like Professor Binns. Got it," he said with a good natured smile before he heard Thorine. His immediate reaction was to flee to the bedroom, but he did know that the house elf was talking sense. Quick to jam his head into his hands, he bent over the table, a groan escaping his lips. He'd had a good headache many a time throughout his life, mostly resulting from a volatile substance.

Thorine knew that the effects of the alcohol had lessened those of the potion significantly. He at least he had one more night before acting like a brainless idiot again.
 
Goia eyed him with growing exasperation and would not mind have telling him to shut up. Professor Binns indeed, hadn't Goia just said like himself and not some stupid dwarf. Rolling his eyes he listened as the footsteps got ever closer. He settled himself into the role that he now had to play and hoped that the long term benefits of these actions would not come back to haunt him.
 
Thorine was growing more and more annoyed as she walked towards the kitchen, it was unusual for Tristan not to be either in their bed or sitting in a chair in Christian's room. So to discover both empty of his presence left her extremely vexed. She opened the door of the kitchen only to be met by the sight of Tristan with his head in his hands and groaning pathetically and Goia looking as if he wanted to kill him.

Thorine smiled indulgently at her house elf, he had to bear so much lately. She walked over and patted his head.
"What is going on here then? a headache my dear?" considering how much he had been drinking she was not surprised at all.
 
Tristan groaned for good measure as Thorine slipped into the kitchen. "Yes- a headache," he muttered simply, "I believe I had too much firewhiskey." He did not say anymore, knowing that Goia would have to take it from here. People with headaches never liked to chatter at all.
 
Goia turned and bowed a fraction to his mistress before darting a disgusted look at the Drage man.
"I have given him something for the pain though perhaps he should be allowed to feel it for his folly. Imbibing in alcohol when he clearly can't handle it" he began muttering under his breath as he usually did whenever he was around the man and though his mistress allowed him the odd indulgence of speaking his mind, he knew she would most likely chastise him on this score.

Goia went to stand near her and pointed to his head in the lowest whisper so that she could hear him plainly enough he muttered;
"alcohol could affect other things too we should be more careful how much he takes" he wiped his hands on the awful looking toga he wore before turning to look back at the fool groaning.
"He was in with the baby and being a nuisance. Christian needs his sleep".
 
Thorine walked around the table to where Tristan was and put her hand to his head before moving away again, almost as if being near him now annoyed her greatly. Why did he have to change so drastically on the potion? Or was he really always like this and she had never known as ... well quite frankly they had never spent that much time together. He was not half the man she had thought he would be, handsome perhaps but his Death Eater days were long over and what had appealed to her once before left her cold now. He was just becoming a nuisance now. She heard what Goia said and for now let his insolence ride, he hated Tristan and had never made any qualms about showing it either. She smiled and merely patted the elves head as he came to stand beside her. What he said next made her look directly at Tristan before looking down at Goia. She was not so worried about him being with Christian, he positively adored his son but she did not like Tristan being drunk and around him. She was well aware also what Goia had been hinting at.
"That'll be all Goia, go to Christian make sure all is well" she turned her attention back to the groaning fool and sighed with exasperation. Perhaps he was just as pathetic with the muggle woman. The thought that perhaps it wasn't the potion that was causing him to be so sanguine but the effects of being around muggle scum had occured to her often. But now it would seem alcohol had lessened the effects a tad, she had noticed he had not added on the infernal 'love' at the end or beginning of his sentence and she had been relieved. She walked slowly and quietly over to him. Her hand caressed his shoulder.

"Tristan, you must not disturb our son when you are in this condition do you understand me?" she would kill him herself if he even accidentally hurt her child.
 
Tristan feigned ignorance as he leaned over the table, his expression pallid. He ran his finger over the wood grain. His stomach dropped as Thorine brought a hand to his head, fearing an intrusion, but she pulled away just as quickly. He was less tense as she placed her hand on his shoulder. The large man wanted to burst out laughing over what she said next. Did she think him stupid? If she did, it was her fault for putting him into this infernal stupor. He started to feel angry towards the woman, but his rage disappeared in an instant. He couldn't let his guard down.

"I understand," he said simply. He would never harm one of his kids intentionally, even if drunk. Hell, he hadn't even woken up Christian. At this moment, he severely wanted to apparate to Christian's room and spirit him away. He let this feeling of swelled confidence dissipate and went back to counting down how much more of this charade he had to endure. Playing a lovesick idiot was going to be a daunting task.
 
Thorine smiled at him as if he were a silly little boy she needed to scold, her cold hand brushed the side of his face tenderly.
"Perhaps you should get some sleep, you look exhausted" she took a step closer, fuming at how her body always responded to close proximity to him no matter how much her mind screamed otherwise.

"I shall be up shortly, I just need to leave some instructions for the morning" she leaned closer and kissed him. She had gone to so much trouble getting him back, dosing him with potions even acquiring the Aphrodite potion had been difficult and now she wished frequently that she had done none of it. The memory of the man was far greater than what she had become accustomed to over the past few weeks. The muggles had a saying for it 'be careful what you wish for' - Thorine hated agreeing with anything muggle like but this time she had to concur.
 
Tristan fought all of his nerves to shudder as Thorine ran a hand along his face. It was colder than the walls of the Herrogard in the wintertime. His ice blue gaze settling on her slowly, he nodded. "I agree. Sleep would be good." He was looking for any excuse to get away from the woman. He would have all of tomorrow and the next three weeks to play with Christian- even if it was under Goia's watch.

Three weeks is not a long time. No matter what could have been between them, Tristan was not going to miss Thorine. His son was a completely different story however. Tristan's heart had never been so utterly shattered before. He detested himself for what he was going to have to do to yet another child.

He forced a smile for the woman who had held him in captivity, kissing her softly back on the lips. The man couldn't bring himself to hate her as much as he tried. He simply hated what she had done to him. "Do what you have to, darling. I will probably be asleep by the time you get there."
 
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