Drage Herrogard 3

Valcan Drage

Valcan Drage

Dark Arts practitioner | Avid reader
 
Messages
723
OOC First Name
Amanda
Wand
Olivewood 17 3/4'', core of Runespoor Fang
Age
95
Valcan sat back in the giant library, pacing around and looking at the giant family tree that decorated the far wall. Tristan had been gone for almost two weeks, and he was with his child, he was sure of it. Nothing got past Valcan; he was the Master of this House, and he knew what was happening with his family.

Etched magically into the giant piece of parchment was his own name, down towards the bottom of the massive tree. Under his name were his children's, Tristan's the first and foremost, branched off from Valcan's first wife, Heidi.

Under Tristan's name was etched Estrella's, a line snaking down with a union from a certain Lorelai Bennett, whose name was marked down as dead with an x before her name. But now another name was added, under Lissandra Zabini. It glowed lightly, recent and new. It would take a while to fade to the same color as the rest of the names.

Erik Valcan Drage, was what it said. His grandchild had been born, and Tristan was hiding away. He would have to explain himself when he got back, of course, and he was getting slightly irritated. He was delighted at the prospect of having a child named after him, and having another male descendant, that could properly be raised in Drage Herrogard. Tristan could not deny him that.
 
Sammael entered the library and strode over to Valcan, stopping to stand beside him and began gazing at the family tree. "Erik Valcan Drage. Where do you suppose Tristan has taken him?"<i></i>
 
"I have no idea," Valcan said, his expression dark and his voice a dangerous rumble. His hands were clenched into fists. "But I am more than a little irritated with him and his secrecy."
 
"Indeed," Valcan sighed quietly. "I am quite eager to see my grandson, and by Merlin he better get here quick. Although, I have not seen Lief lately either."

He turned to Sammael. "I've reopened the training room, if you so wish to use it. Once Tristan gets here, the dumbass can use it too."

Valcan did not normally swear, but vodka loosened his tongue considerably, and it was present on his breath. "Did you hear that Lucius Malfoy is going to have a trial?" He continued quietly.
 
Brunhilde entered the library swiftly and quietly, looking for something to read after a long day at work. Without saying anything, she wandered behind the two men, trying to find out what they were looking at.

"Å, mitt. Det er derfor Tristan ha blitt dradd," she sighed as she saw the lightly glowing name in the parchment, seemingly threatening to burn it. "Well, father, I think it would do to look for baby stuff. Providing that Tristan is going to be home soon?" She smirked, but was rather excited.
 
"I suppose," Valcan sighed. "Demetri," he snapped, and a house elf apparated to his side.

"Yes, Master?"

"Commission the other house elves to find baby necessities for my grandson," he commanded boldly, "It might be a long search. There hasn't been an infant at Drage Herrogard for twenty years, I would say."

"Certainly, Master Drage," Demetri said with a bow of his head, and disapparated.

He turned to Brunhilde. "Have you seen Loki, by the way?" He had a pet frost dragon, one that he had raised from birth. "I have not seen him for a while."
 
"I was under the impression that he was off hunting bears," Brunhilde replied with a smirk. "He gets hungry, you know." Brunhilde was close to the dragon, as she had helped raise him.

Loki was more or less a mascot, illegal or not, for Drage Herrogard, representing the family name, which literally meant "Dragon."
 
Tristan apparated to the entrance of Drage Herrogard, avoiding the snow as he ripped the giant door open, sheltering his son from the snowy, harsh elements that constantly surrounded his home.

He started as a growling noise erupted from behind him, and he whipped around to see a dragon, 4 feet in height and as long as a school bus. Even at twenty years old, he was still small. The animal's teeth were bared, his massive form barely visible in the snow.

"It's just me, Loki," Tristan said darkly. "Just Tristan." He had never liked the dragon, and the dragon not him.

He walked in through the door and the dragon followed him, stalking him. He ignored it and strolled into the library, seeing Sammael, Brunhilde and his father staring back at him, Erik in his arms. Loki slid past him fluidly and to Valcan's side, a smug look on the animal's face.
 
Valcan looked at Tristan darkly, crossing his arms, and then walked forward without saying anything, taking the child in his arms. His expression was grim and after looking at his grandson for a moment, he turned to Tristan with an angry demeanor. "Where the hell have you been?" He inclined his head toward the giant family tree. "I hope that you were not planning on trying to put this past me. I have my sources, Tristan." His tone was harsh and angry.
 
"You have your grandson, you should be happy," Tristan snapped darkly. "It's only been a week, and I have been on run from the Ministry. And, for another thing, Lissandra ran off with some Valencio guy and left the kid to me."
 
Sammael stared at Tristan, not really giving much notice to the child. "Lissandra left the child in your care? I feel sorry for the poor bastard." he said with disgust.
 
"Now, now, Sammael," Valcan said boldly, "In the care of Drage Herrogard, Erik here will be just fine." He held the child in his strong arms. "I am simply reminding you, Tristan, that you can't hide things from me. I am your father, and you have never been able to, in any case. I am just appalled that you wouldn't allow me the courtesy of seeing my one grandson."

He smirked at Tristan's last comment. "Italians..." he murmured, shaking his head, but didn't complete the sentence out loud.

His eyes flashed darkly as he observed the cut marks on Tristan's arms and face. "Where in the world did you get those?" he snapped.
 
"Did I not say it clear enough?" Tristan snapped. "I'm on run from the Ministry. Someone-" he cast a dark look around the room, "Tipped them off that I was going to be there. Lucius just happened to be there, and as far as I know, ended up killing a man."
 
Valcan's face was a mask of fury. "I for one, am absolutely offended, Tristan, that you would think any of us tipped off the Ministry. And, just to add, we had no idea where you were going to be. Do you not trust your family?" he snapped angrily, his gaze darkening dangerously. He passed off Erik to Brunhilde, in fear of hurting him on accident.
 
Tristan's gaze narrowed, and the tension in the room was apparent. You could always tell when there was anger at Drage Herrogard; when it happened, the air was heavy and forbidding.

"Well, excuse me," Tristan said darkly, "If I am not welcome here, I will take my son and leave."
 
"You will do no such thing," Valcan said quietly. "I will check on Demetri; he should be getting the things for Erik ready." With a smirk he turned heel and left the room, leaving Tristan in his wake.
 
Brunhilde looked down at Erik with a weak smile, her eyes amused. "Well, at least he has the good looks of your side of the family." She laughed. "Not an ugly baby, either; he's absolutely adorable. And you at least had the decency to give him a Norwegian name. Quite unlike dear Estrella." She smirked. "I actually think that father's pleased; he just has a tough way of showing it."
 
Sammael walked over to Brunhilde so as to get a closer look at Erik. In doing so, he was moved closer to Tristan and a familiar scent filled his nose. He turned to his cousin with an icy glare. "So, Tristan, where have you been?" Sammael knew the correct answer to the question, and was quite sure it was not the answer he would be hearing.<i></i>
 
Tristan's gaze was blank and drawn, and he couldn't afford to let Sammael know anything. "I've been around," he replied strongly, so as not to show weakness nor arouse suspicion, "Just like always. Although, you've never really cared, so why now?"
 
"Perhaps because you reek of women's perfume," Sammael spat at Tristan as he walked around his back, coming to stop on the other side of his cousin. "I know you dislike me Tristan, but I never thought you would stoop so low."<i></i>
 
"I don't know what you're inferring, Sammael," Tristan snarled, his eyes flaring as his fists clenched at his sides, "But my personal life is really none of your business. Woman or not." He was wary of Sammael at his side, and he was too close for his comfort.
 
"Well, you see Tristan, it is my business. Considering it is not just any woman you reek of, it is my wife!" Sammael drew his wand as he was speaking and had it up against Tristan's neck. "Did you really think I would not notice?" he asked, absolutely fuming. His golden eyes were beginning to glow as he stared at his cousin.
 
Tristan glared back at Sammael, his face still blank. Might as well put up the act while he still could. He remained motionless, and growled, "I don't know what you're talking about, Sammael, but I suggest that you remove your wand this instant."

He shook violently in anger, and the chandelier ahead began to shake.
 
Sammael narrowed his eyes, golden and glowing. He noticed the chandelier shaking and was prepared to fight back. "You know exactly what I am talking about Tristan. You have been eyeing Morgase for years now, it was only a matter of time."<i></i>
 
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