Three Blind Mice

Y

Ylva Kvalheim

Well-Known Member
 
Messages
525
Business as usual. Ylva was heading towards the location that she had tracked James Dalton down to, and by the look of his approaching house he was doing quite well for himself. She had no idea whether he had a wife or any other children, and nor did she care. It was time to deliver Araxfell to his doorstep. Ylva had been in hopes of having a girl and therefore eliminate the need to have any more children. However, fate had dealt her an irritating hand that she had to contend with. There was no question of her keeping Araxfell alive, though. To terminate her own son simply because of his gender was a medieval practice and counterproductive. After all the effort she had gone through to produce the useless lump, only to discard him like yesterday's newspaper? No; the boy was a pureblood and shared half of her own blood. It was a waste of life. If there was one thing that Ylva detested, it was wastefulness. Who knew; Araxfell might prove himself worthy in the future and more useful than he was now. She may as well leave him somewhere where he might be cared for. Then again, the Dalton man seemed quite deranged. So as Ylva waved the door open calmly, her aim remained to inspect the living circumstances of the man she had shared intimacy with and hopefully unload the child into his no-doubt unwilling hands.

It seemed that she was anticipated by someone, though. A small, thin boy in a wheelchair greeted her at the open door which Ylva had opened unannounced, and stared up at her with clear blue eyes and a nervous look. He was rather sweet-faced and frail, and she wondered whose child it was. The boy looked nothing like the Dalton man. It was the sandy hair and the wide, innocent eyes that made the difference in features so pronounced. "Who are you, boy?" she asked coldly, displeased at being hindered.
 
Pippin had just been nodding off in front of the fireplace that afternoon when something disturbed him from his doze. Thinking back, he couldn't recall what had caused him to wake up, but looking out of the window he spotted an unfamiliar person walking up the drive of their new house. Pippin squinted and pressed his hand against the pane of glass separating them. It was a woman, he realised, if the long sweeping black dress was any indication. Pip was not familiar with wizard robes. However he still did not recognise her and immediately turned himself around to wheel all the way to the front door. Moments later he arrived just as the door opened; the woman had not knocked. What he had first thought was a package was actually a tiny newborn baby with a shock of black hair, sleeping peacefully. He was thoroughly unnerved by her entrance and further frightened by the woman's next demand. 'Who are you, boy?'. Pippin did not answer so much as squeak. The stranger was very tall, very beautiful and very frightening to the pale fourteen year old.

"I ... I'm Pippin, ma'am," he said in the tiniest voice imaginable, so small that it was barely audible. "Are you here to see Mr James Sir, or Miss Antoinette, ma'am?". The look she was giving him made him shrink back into the seat of his wheelchair. It was as if she was scrutinising a worm that she was about to dissect. "Shall I call them?" he whispered.
 
Antoinette had been writing a letter to her cousin - no, niece, Violet, asking her how sixth year was going and asking if she wanted to be her bridesmaid at the wedding, which was to happen over the holidays. Antoinette wasn't sure if she was keen on getting married while being so...big, but it simply couldn't be helped. She loved James and wanted to marry him, and she supposed it would be better for their baby girl to be born in to a proper family. Neither of them had, and as for Pippin...no. Antoinette wanted to make up for all their demons of the past and give their child the best possible life she could. She would have Pippin to help, of course - she was so looking forward to Pippin having a little sister to look after and play with. Antoinette smiled to herself. Life seemed to be alright, right now.

She noticed Pippin going to the door out of the corner of her eye, but didn't think too much of it, because she had very nearly finished her letter. Signing it off, she stood up - standing up wasn't as easy as it used to be, for she was five months gone now and the baby bump was quite noticable. Antoinette very quickly noticed Pippin wasn't alone, which Antoinette found strange. Who would be calling on them? She hadn't even heard a knock on the door. "Are you alright, Pippin? What's going on?" she asked, as she reached the door and saw a very imposing woman standing there, a child in her arms. Standing next to Pippin, she gave the woman a confused look, but thought it best to be polite. "May I help you, ma'am?"
 
James was in the room he hoped to convert into a nursery for his and Antoinette's baby. He was so excited about being a father to this baby. He waved his wand across the room, a paint roller lifting from a palette and scrolling across the wall, spreading a beautiful lavender color about the room.
James had not heard the front door open or Pippin speak but when he heard Antoinette's voice, he stood up straight, cleaning the flecks of paint from his clothes but some still remained on his face. James was working hard to make this family life work; he had been bad in the past and was determined to make up for his mistakes.

However, once James reached the front door, standing behind Pippin and Antoinette, he had a rather nasty surprise. It was her.
It was Ylva. And there she was, looking at Pippin, a small baby in her arms. James was thankful his bladder wasn't full.
"You" he said, a shocked expression on his face, his worst nightmare coming true. It was bad enough he'd just found out that he had got a werewolf pregnant. His eyes passed over Pippin and then looked to Antoinette. But he could only look her full in the face for a second before looking back to Ylva, ridden with guilt.
 
Ylva was intrigued by the wheelchair-bound boy, but her analysis of him was interrupted by the arrival of another person. The urge to smirk assaulted her as she saw a young pregnant woman of around James' age approach and ask her business. The urge to then throw back her head and laugh cruelly at the look on James Dalton's face as he recognised her was even stronger, but she quelled both and simply looked at them all, her eyes all but welcoming. She would have preferred a private audience with Dalton but found this to be too amusing a situation to pass up. Ylva would torment James for a bit before destroying his world utterly. His horror at seeing her seemed total enough, but when he found out that the child in her arms was to be his responsibility, he'd likely cry. She would then return home and it would bring a smile to her face whenever she'd recall it.

She could see the relationship between James and the other woman straight away, but the little boy was harder to pick. What relation was he to them, if a relation at all? By the way he addressed the older two, it would seem he was some kind of servant or ward of the family. I will have you, then. she decided. "I have a delivery of sorts, Mr. Dalton." said Ylva, not announcing herself in any way. The manner in which she spoke his name was made more ominous by the accent she put on it, a short and low 'Daaahlton.' She spoke his name but her cold eyes were fixed on the small boy, who looked quite ready to wither into a pile of ash.
 
Who is this woman? thought Antoinette, thoroughly confused - though her confusion cleared up when James appeared. Oh no. Don't tell me. Antoinette was by no means stupid, but she was unwilling to believe the obvious truth. He had slept with other women, but this woman? Sure, she was extremely beautiful. But she looked to be at least twice his age! Never before had Antoinette felt more inadequate than she did at that moment. Antoinette could barely meet James's eyes, half furious, half disappointed - both in him and in herself. "James..." she began softly, before shaking her head and looking away, focusing on Pippin. She wasn't sure she wanted Pippin to see this, but she couldn't bring herself to do anything.

Eyes welling up, Antoinette wrung her hands, wanting nothing more than to kick James's hide from here to next week, then to beat this woman to a bloody pulp, before bashing her own head against the wall. But violence was so unbecoming for a lady, particuarly one like Antoinette. "James, did you..." She refused to look at the woman. Right now, Antoinette felt nothing but utter loathing (with a twinge of jealousy) for her.
 
James said nothing to Antoinette, instead he glared at Ylva, his eyes black and deadly. He wanted nothing more than to hurt Ylva, right now. "What do you want?" He demanded of Ylva, pushing past Antoinette and Pippin to stand before her. He needed to protect his family from this woman even if he was about to lose any chance he had left with Antoinette.

James turned to Pippin. "Go.. Go to your room, Pippin." He was becoming like a son, slowly but surely. Perhaps that was why he couldn't stand him witnessing this. It may well have been the end of James and Antoinette's relationship. James would not get to see his child.
His eyes became coated with glossy water. All he wanted was to undo all of his mistakes.
And then he found himself looking back at Antoinette. He was truly sorry for his actions. "Ylva, you are not welcome here," he said, staring into her eyes. Never had James looked so threatening. He had his wand at his side, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
 
Pippin looked warily between the three adults, very aware of the tall lady's eyes on him. There was something going on that he did not understand, and at James' word her moved back behind Antoinette but did not leave the room. It was obvious that no one wanted him to witness what he was apparently going to witness, but the woman's deep brown eyes kept him rooted to the spot and he dared not move any further for fear that she might incinerate him or suchlike. It was like ... she did not even care what Mr James or Miss Antoinette was saying. Her eyes were on him and his eyes were on the child sleeping in her arms. If only one person cared whether Pippin was in the room, no one seemed to care about the little baby, which to Pip seemed to be the root of the problem. Who was the child and where had it come from? Was the baby boy what everyone was fighting about? Pippin stared at the child and longed to take it away from the adults to another room with him. Children, even ones so young, should not be forced to listen to such serious talk. But he stayed stock still and peeked out from behind Antoinette only once or twice.

Pip flinched as he looked up at James. Never since coming to live with him had he seen him so livid, and Pippin whimpered silently to see her hand curled around his wand. Was there going to be a fight?
 
Dalton's insolent look caused irritation to bubble in the pit of her stomach. Knowing that if she allowed it to come forth there would be bloodshed, Ylva simply narrowed her eyes at him. "Your welcoming me here or not is of no consequence, James Dalton. If I wanted welcome I would have knocked." Her dark eyes did not miss his wand hand gripping the weapon and holding it close to his side. Ylva did not even move to take out her own wand, or even to hold the child in her arms closer. The young Death Eater was untrained and of little threat to her at all. However if he was foolish enough to attack, her eyes were still centered on the sandy-haired boy and she knew who to strike. He would risk himself, but Ylva knew he would not risk the safety of those he loved. Her eyes flashed back to James and speared into him like a poisoned dart. "I do not want anything. Here is a child, yes it is yours. If you do not comply with my wishes, all the Quietus spells in the world could not blocks the screams of your dying family from your ears." One moment she was standing rigidly in the doorway and the next she was face to face with James with only a soft rush of wind in her wake.

Without hesitation, Ylva slammed her hand into his throat in a claw-like grip so that the thunk of skin on wood reverberated throughout the house as his head hit the wall. She heard a gasp as the frightened boy behind the woman was shocked out of silence. "Drop your wand," she said softly, her nails digging into his skin. "You are in the presence of children." Ylva looked down at the sleeping boy who remained undisturbed by the events unfolding around him. "Do you see this infant?" Araxfell shifted and gave a soft wail, tiny fists bunching and waving in the air. "It is your son. I have come to return him to you." She smiled emotionlessly at James, her grip on his skin loosening. "So do you want to lose your head and have the death of three people on your conscience? Or will you take the child silently and do your duty as a father." Ylva lowered her voice. "He was born of your sin and now you will pay recompense for it for the rest of your days," she whispered, abruptly releasing his throat and taking a single step back.
 
James was not even a fully trained Death Eater yet and he knew that Ylva would have the upper hand. It wasn't that he would not kill her which was stopping him from attacking, but her threat to harm his family. He could not bare the idea of anything happening to them even if the end result was Antoinette never wanting to see him again. But still, whatever James had expected, he had not expected to find himself thrown against a wall, Ylva holding him there.

His face went from red, struggling and furious, to a pale one as he dropped his wand at his feet and stood on it so as not to give Ylva a chance to take it from him. James looked down at the small child, his child. He did not want this to happen, he had not thought about his actions again until a few days before when he had met up with Hazel again.
James reluctantly held out his hands, taking the baby into his arms, unable to look at it. He wanted this all to go away, to have never happened. He had told Antoinette there had been more than one woman he had slept with but he had never said how many. He couldn't even remember how many. And only now did James realize how bad he had been. Only now did he feel truly sorry for his actions.
"There," James said, face still pale but now facing Ylva, "You got what you wanted, so leave."
 
Antoinette clenched her fists, furious. Who the hell was this woman to waltz in and dump her kid on them? Sure, he might have been the father - Antoinette was trying to ignore that part of the problem for the moment. Couldn't she look after her own damn kid? She looked old enough. In a way, this woman reminded her of her own mother - although all that she knew about her mother was that she was only about twenty or so when she had her, and dumped her on her father before running off. She immediately felt sorry for the baby boy. Even if he was with a parent...to be abandoned by one's own mother! Antoinette couldn't bring herself to look at the woman. And she certainly couldn't look at James, the treacherous snake. She didn't know how she could protect this baby, or her own baby, or most of all, Pippin. Because at the moment, she felt as though she could slit James's throat.

"And..." she began quietly, her voice trembling with rage. "You would, as the mother of the child, dump him here, of all places? I blame James as much as you do, but...why would you leave your own son?" she asked, only now getting the courage to lift her head to the woman. "Who are you, anyway?" she asked, not so much defiant as curious. Taking Pippin's hand in hers - she needed him to keep herself calm - she then turned to James. "How could you." Her voice was as cold as ice, hatred was evident in her eyes. "I give you my heart and you repeatedly trample it like this. Couldn't you bloody well learn to cast a simple charm, if you insist upon betraying me in this way? I...I..." she trailed off, now unable to even look at the child in his arms. What had she done to deserve this?
 
Finally, the Dalton man understood. Ylva wanted to bring her hand up and massage her temple; she had hoped that she wouldn't have to get physically demanding, but some people never learned. Glancing down briefly at her son, she watched as Araxfell wriggled in James' arms for a moment before falling asleep again. She folded her arms calmly. That was the end of her business here. But another grating voice cut through the tranquility of her thoughts and caused her irritation to double within seconds. The hormonal woman behind her began to speak in a pathetically furious tone to her.Ylva turned her head and regarded her with distant eyes masking her annoyance. "I am none of your concern whatsoever." she said coldly, her dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly which was a very bad sign. Her mouth twitched in amusement as she took a step towards Antoinette. "I hardly think you're one to speak. Are you not betrothed to this pathetic, pointless lump of a man who I daresay will have more children with others to come?" Ylva went for maximum impact. "While you sit here growing fat with his child, so too did I wait for the moment I was rid of his useless spawn. But you have chosen a life with him, and this will not be the first baby to land on your doorstep." Ylva drew her eyes over to Pippin. "So I suggest you get used to strange women appearing on your doorstep."

Now there was only the woman's incessant raging against her lover. All the while Ylva looked at the little boy in the wheelchair, saying nothing and simply regarding him with her deep chocolate eyes that revealed nothing.
 
James was about to snap at Ylva when Antoinette spoke up. He felt as though a dagger had been driven into his heart as he saw the hurt on Antoinette's face. But then Ylva spoke again. She was purposely causing more trouble, trouble James could do without. He stared at her, his heart ripped to pieces. But then he found himself distracted as the child in his arms moved. And he looked down.
James couldn't help it. He saw those dark eyes looking back at him. But they weren't filled with venom like his mother's. No, they were sort of.. loving. Dependent on him. And James did what he had hoped not to do; he felt himself melt as a fatherly emotion absorbed him.

James looked up quickly. "Ylva," James said, suddenly his voice was cold, "You're finished here. Get out." He was not at all tolerating.
He was suddenly much more commanding. He especially found his blood boiling as he caught her eyes on Pippin. James wanted to hit her, to push her away. So much hidden, bottled up anger inside. "Get out before I throw you out." with that, James stamped down onto one end of his wand. It flicked up and he caught it in one hand.
Had he not been in such an emotionally charged situation, James would have been running about, celebrating the amazing trick he had just performed. His wand was on Ylva. His eyes fixed on her, unblinking. Of course he would have many more problems to deal with once she was gone but James could not attempt to heal the family until this woman had left them in peace.
 
Oh, Antoinette hated that women. Loathed her. Now Antoinette was determined to look after the kid, just so he could become everything his mother wasn't. She just wanted the vile woman away from them. The woman had her eyes on Pippin, and that made Antoinette awfully uncomfortable. There was no way she was laying even a finger on Pippin, no way in hell. She could hurt her all she wanted if she had to, but she would rather die than let that woman hurt him. Pippin had already dealt with more than enough. He needed to be safe and protected and loved. And that wicked, vile woman was someone Antoinette was going to protect him from.

She had slight admiration for James, for wanting to kick the woman out, but she was still mad at him. How he could've stooped so low as to sleep with this foul woman. "At least I don't have to go around screwing young men to feel good about myself," Antoinette muttered darkly, but would say no more on the topic. She folded her arms and looked defiantly at the older woman, nodding towards the door.
 
It was horrible, so horrible. When James was slammed against the wall, Pippin gasped and smothered his mouth with his hands. The lady was a very dangerous woman, and he had just opened the door and not even barred her way! Oh, all of this was his fault. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry Miss Antoinette!" he mumbled over and over, shaking his head and saying nothing else. "I shouldn't have let her in, I'm so sorry!". Now Pippin was sure that she was going to do horrible things to all of them, especially him. He was starkly aware of her eyes on him at all times, and he cursed himself for somehow attracting her attention. The tall lady didn't even seem to care about her newborn son and only looked at him when he squirmed and cried. Somehow Pippin was very relieved was James was handed the tiny child, though he would have been even more relieved if he had the baby instead. Antoinette and James looked so angry, and it didn't do to be holding a baby when you were that livid. Pip didn't want to get closer to the action, but he had to protect the little baby. He was sure that it was going to be his brother.

He flinched when someone touched him, but it was only Antoinette taking his hand. Pippin held it tightly and tried to calm his adoptive mother as best he could, but it was hard when he himself was becoming more frightened by the minute. The tall woman continued to looked at him, and now she walked closer till Pip was shrouded in her shadow. A terrified tear rolled down his cheek, then another. Pippin's hand shrunk away from Antoinette and he literally shrunk as if trying to make himself as small as possible. "M...m..." he said. M-Miss Antoinette, Mr James!
 
There was an angry buzzing in Ylva's ears that was the voices of James and Antoinette that she ignored pointedly. Yes, it was time to leave for she had nothing else to do here, but perhaps she might take the Little Sandy-Haired Boy with her. He seemed like some kind of trophy or novelty to her, a collectible. Yes he was spoiled and damaged, but that could be remedied easily enough. The Boy was spineless and would do her bidding. Ylva kept no house elves and thought the Boy to be a very good substitute for an ugly elf, not to mention far better company. Sweeping around towards the wheelchair where the Boy cowered in his seat, Ylva reached out and swept his tears away with one long finger. She did not crouch to speak to him, finding it beneath herself, but simply lowered her head slightly and towered over the child who seemed to become smaller still in response. "Well, boy." said Ylva softly, rubbing the tears away she had swept away between her fingers. "What is your name, then?"

No doubt the Dalton man and his irritating partner would kick up quite a stink if she took him. In fact, they were kicking up a stink right now, simply because she hadn't left when they asked and was ignoring every word they spoke. Did they honestly expect her to care about their threats and insults? Ylva ran a hand through the boy's hair impassively and watched him shiver with terror at her touch. She smiled to herself. Yes, he would do quite well.
 
She'd really done it now. If that woman thought she was getting anywhere near Pippin, who was practically her son, she had another think coming. If Antoinette had thought she was mad before...well now, she was absolutely livid. She didn't trust this woman one bit and wasn't going to let her do anything to Pippin. Pippin was under her care, and she'd be damned if she let anyone undermine that. "Pippin, honey, it's not your fault. You did the right thing for this little boy," she said, squeezing his hand affectionately.

Drawing herself up to her full height - which, unfortunately, wasn't as tall as she wished - Antoinette tilted her head back slightly in a defiant manner, her free hand resting on her hip. She was not giving the woman the benefit of a breakdown. "His name is Pippin, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't touch my son," Antoinette hissed. Her voice was laced with spite and loathing, but her expression was stony. She hated that Pippin had to see this, but Antoinette wasn't going to let herself be walked over here. No way in hell.
 
James felt rage bubble as Ylva turned on Pippin. He didn't know what she was intending to do with him but James would not allow it.
And then James heard Antoinette, angry too. It was at this point, James snapped. "Get your filthy hands off of him!" The wand in James's hand was still pointed at Ylva. He was ready to strike and as the anger built at what destruction this woman had caused, his wand shot a few sparks in her direction. They were burning like his insides.

"Enough! I will not have you abusing my family any longer- Alright, I may not be perfect myself. Far from it. But at least I will never abandon my children. Family is the most important thing and if you think that you can walk in here and ruin our lives then think again." He had shouted this with such emotion. Passion he had never felt before. The baby in his arms was silent, watching James fight. "You have tried and you have failed. Go. Leave us be. This is my family and though we may argue and fight among ourselves, we will always be united against those who try to break us." He was fuming, his eyes were dark. "And I will raise this child." He said this and he knew Antoinette may not agree. "I am going to raise him so that he will never become a monster like you."
 
At this, Ylva was almost overcome. The simmering irritation in her stomach abated and she threw back her head and laughed; a terrible sound. The sound of chains dragging across the floor and the swish of the Reaper's scythe could have accompanied her laugh well, for it was a sound that made the hair on one's arms raise. She heard the whimpering of the Little Sandy-Haired Boy and the urge to laugh harder again was an attractive prospect; but the horrible sound died just as soon as it had come. Ylva smiled at James, shaking her head. "Just who is a monster, James Dalton," she said softly, rhetorically. As she spoke, she fixed her eyes on Antoinette; or rather her pregnant stomach. Then she returned her eyes to the babe sleeping in James' arms and finally back to James. "I? I have simply come to return what is yours. You, the breaker of homes and of hearts." Ylva sneered at him. Once again her movement was almost imperceptible but she was in front of him again and sweeping the child out of his arms. Before he could protest, there she placed the infant in Pippin's arms. "You do not hold a babe whilst in a rage, Dalton." she said softly, touching her thumb to the baby's head before straightening once more. "His name is Araxfell Rorik Kvalheim. You will keep to that name."

Abruptly Ylva was cold once more, though that wasn't to say that she had been tender in the moments earlier. Looking at Pippin for the last time, she turned and exited as though she had only dropped in for tea and apparated at the edge of the garden path. As if she hadn't wanted to take Pippin home at all. As if she hadn't upended James' entire life over his head.
 
It took all of Antoinette's strength not to sink to the floor and cry. No. I'm not letting this woman get the better of me. I must be strong for my own pride, and for Pippin and the baby - Araxfell, and my little girl. Her eyes stung, but Antoinette knew better than to cry in front of so many people. Besides, the crazy lady would probably revel in such a display of emotion. It was obvious she found her anger merely amusing. If only there was more Veela in me. I doubt she'd find it so amusing then. Thankfully, finally, the woman disappeared. Antoinette's lip quivered, and she dropped to her knees, wrapping her arms around Pippin - and consequently, little Araxfell - in despair.

"P-pippin, are you alright?" she stammered, trying to hold back the tears. You're making me all emotional, baby, she silently told her unborn child, not as though she could hear her, but so Antoinette could find a reason for her display of emotions. Of course, the reason was her own weakness, but still. "James..." she whispered, dejected and heartbroken. "James, why?" She refused to look at her future husband. She'd only cry if she did. How could someone love a person so much, even though they broke their heart again and again? Antoinette couldn't believe herself. "A-araxfell. You...I'm sorry." Antoinette was sorry - sorry that he had such screwups for parents. How could she cope now, looking after four? She was only eighteen. I'm too young for this s**t.
 
The tiny babe in Pippin's arms knew its mother and, somehow, knew its father. But the absence of both caused its tiny mouth to open and wail in the silence left in Ylva's wake in such a way that the boy now holding it burst into tears, passed it to Antoinette and exited the room as swiftly as the wheels on his chair would allow. The baby, Araxfell, continued to wail rhythmically, burying his head into the shoulder of the woman holding him and making as much mess as possible. The sound of weeping filled the house and the halls of their new home had not been so noisy since the day they moved in. Pippin was crying, the baby was crying, and if anyone else was crying it could only get worse from there on out. But the little boy paid no attention to anyone but the stranger holding him; he cried and cried though he was neither hungry, tired, nor ill.

Araxfell had not formed much of an attachment to Ylva Kvalheim, simply because she rarely saw him at all. After birthing her son she had hired a temporary carer while she tracked down James Dalton to this very spot; it had only been a few weeks. During that time, she might come in to the 'nursery' to look at him, or perhaps to hold him when she was feeling bored. But Araxfell did not recognise his mother's love, for there simply was none. Ylva held no regard for the failed endeavour that was her son. She would simply try, and perhaps try again until she got a baby girl. Who knew where her other sons might end up if she had more in an attempt to birth a daughter; probably just as Araxfell was, sobbing in a frail voice against the shoulder of an adoptive mother.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 1 (members: 0, guests: 1)
Back
Top