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almostrealdudes · 5 years

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Pale Blue Glimpses

A/N: finally, there it is, the thing no one asked for, a long-ass piece for Nathan Prescott. Yes, this has an original female character, I’m kind of over people ignoring any writing that does not address them in the second person. A character with a name and some backstory feels more wholesome, so please, don’t scroll down just because it’s not a reader insert. Pairing: Nathan Prescott x Sophia Hughes(OC) Warnings: Mentions of anorexia, mentions of bruises and scratches, mentions of blood Word count: 7,6k (strap the f in)

Sophia could sense Victoria’s predatory look even from across the classroom, right after stepping inside. Chase was chatting with Nathan, leaning against one of the desks but stopped herself mid-sentence, seeing the girl approach them.

“Oh, look, it’s the dancing queen, I’m quaking. The fuck you want, Spandex?”

Sophie rolled her eyes and ignored the vile comment, only gripping onto the strip of her bag a little tighter.

“I need to talk to Nathan,” she said firmly, looking at him, trying her best to avoid Victoria’s glare.

“Tough shit. Can’t you see I’m talking to him? If you have something to say, do so now or stay silent forever.”

“Nate?” Sophia didn’t move her gaze off the boy, who was remaining silent this entire conversation, his arms crossed and his gaze somewhere on the floor. Hearing a call of his name made him finally raise his head and look at Sophia’s face. She stared at him with hope, her eyes begging him to be the better person and step outside. Just for a moment.

“What is it, Hughes,” he said, his voice small, as he immediately looked away. Sophia frowned. Is that how it was? Last name basis?

“Okay. I just wanted to say—I got accepted.” She reached into her back pocket and fetched a white envelope with a swan print on it. “To Somerset. I leave at the end of the month.”

Just as Sophia saw Nathan’s face change, she looked down at the charms hanging from her bag, biting on her lower lip. Making the last effort, she looked up, seeing Nathan’s pained expression he was trying to disguise with indifference.

“Oh my god, Hughes,” Victoria was first to break the silence, rolling her eyes, “what the fuck ever, no one cares, you can scram to whatever shithole you got accepted into, just stop wasting any more of my time.”

“Bye, Nathan,” said Sophia quietly, making wobbly steps back and leaving the classroom. She heard him call out her name, but his voice was quickly cut off by the shutting door. She didn’t want to listen to him anymore. To hear him. What was supposed to be a tough decision turned into a binary question with an obvious answer. She would leave the abomination that was Arcadia Bay. Nothing was holding her back. Not anymore.

***

Sophia met Nathan for the first time near the Blackwell fountain. Right at it, to be specific. Not that she hasn’t seen him before, but before the fountain, they never really talked to each other. He was sitting on its edge, looking at his severely scratched palm. She was about to leave school when she heard him whimper quietly. He was shivering, his posture shrunken and small. Sophia immediately stopped and made a 180 turn and quickly approached Nathan.

“Fucking jocks,” she assumed, putting her bag down and sitting next to him. By the way he shrugged his shoulders Sophia found herself to be correct. She softly reached for his palm and tried to take a closer look, but Nathan yanked his hand out and pressed it to his chest protectively.

“I don’t need your help,” he hissed, tensing up.

“You don’t need an infection either.” Sophia reached into her bag and took out bandages and rubbing alcohol. “Please, may I?”

He watched her for a few seconds, doubt and hurt in his eyes. His wounded hand was clenched into a fist, probably hurting him even more, but his self-preserving instincts took control over his body, making him try and move away from Sophia as much as possible. She had to be patient: he was like a wounded animal, aggressive out fear to be hurt again.

“Please,” she repeated.

Slowly, but with caution, Nathan unclenched his fist, revealing his palm, covered in blood and scratches. Sophia nodded in gratitude and opened the alcohol bottle.

“This will burn,” she warned him, holding his hand softly by the wrist. “What did they do?” As she asked him the question, she spilled some of the liquid onto the grazes.

“They—ah,” Nathan winced, his arm stiffening again, “they pushed me.”

“Assholes,” Sophia whispered, beginning to wrap his hand in bandages. Poor guy. The amount of pressure he was under was a lot to handle already, but the bullying too? She couldn’t imagine how Nathan felt every day, going to Blackwell, constantly being a target, never safe. “Why?”

“Cause I’m Nathan Prescott?”

Sophia looked up in distress, examining Nathan, who was looking down at his palm, hiding his gaze. She bit her lips, desperately wanting to say something but not finding the right words to express her feelings. She didn’t want to pity him. Nathan hated being in this situation already, showing weakness and getting help, Sophia didn’t want to make him feel worse. That way, the conversation died down, and the girl finished her treatment in silence. When she was done, she gently patted the boy’s palm, wrapping the excessive bandages back into a roll.

“You’re good. Don’t mention it,” she smirked.

“Why do you carry a first aid kit anyway?”

“It’s for my feet,” she explained. Seeing Nathan’s confused expression, her smile grew in size. “I do ballet. There’s always a scratch to treat.”

“I didn’t know there were ballet classes in Blackwell.”

“There aren’t. I’m doing private lessons, with my mom. After class.”

“Aren’t you late then?”

Sophia gasped and looked at her phone screen.

“Fuck, I gotta run!”

She zipped her bag shut and jumped up, getting back onto her way to the exit gate. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“You don’t have to,” he said, lowering his gaze.

“I want to,” she said determinedly. “Besides, I’ll need to check how your hand is healing. And Nathan?”

The sound of his name made the boy raise his head again and look at Sophia with uncertainty.

“There’s nothing wrong in being you.”

He sighed through his nose, pursing the corners of his lips not in a smile, but in an appreciative motion.

“Thank you,” he raised his bandaged hand lightly, “uh—”

“Sophia. Sophia Hughes.”

“Thank you, Sophia.”

She smiled brightly, showing off her tooth gap. “Call me Soph.”

***

Sophia stormed into her dorm room, smashing the door behind her. Her breath was heavy and unsteady, she was trying to calm herself, but every attempt only stimulated her inner turmoil. She threw her bag on the floor and looked at the now creased envelope she was clutching on her way from the school building. Glancing over the swan print, Sophia rolled her eyes and tossed onto her bed. Taking her shoes off, she then joined the envelope, propping her head on the pillow, which felt so heavy she thought she would never be able to lift it again. She told herself in the morning, it was a bad idea. Sophia wasn’t even sure now why she argued with her mom to postpone her departure. I need to say goodbye to my friends. Right. As if she had any. She could’ve left tomorrow and be done with this shitty school. This shitty town that brought her nothing but heartbreak. Her mom was right, you shouldn’t make friends. If you open up to somebody, you just give them a chance to manipulate and abuse you when they need it. When they’re done with you.

Sophia’s eyes shifted to her wall, decorated with pictures and photographs. In the center, there was a photo of them; she told him not to come to her performance, said she would do poorly and didn’t want him to see her fail. He came anyway and brought flowers. They were standing close to each other: Sophia’s hand was holding out her phone to capture both their faces. You’re a treasure, Nathan Prescott. She was so stupid. She should’ve gotten rid of this photo ages ago. But she didn’t. Why? Because she hasn’t moved on. Because every day she woke up and hoped for things to return to how they were. Every time she walked past Nathan, she looked at him, hoping for him to look back. But even when he did, it was never what she wanted it to be. There was no warmth in his gaze, only cold and regret.

Fucking sentiments.

Sophia reached for the photo and ripped it off the wall. She stared at it closely, contemplating. Then, crumpling it, she threw it into the trash bin across the room and rolled over in the bed, resting her head against the wall. There. No big deal. It’s just a photo. She’s moved on, it’s about time.

It’s just a photo.

“Fuck,” Sophia mumbled getting up and rushing to the bin, getting the wrinkled picture out and smoothing it out. “You’re such a little bitch. What would your mother say?”

She knew exactly what. That she was weak, vulnerable. And weakness meant failure. Winners don’t hold on to old photographs. Winners aren’t petty.

She lied back on the bed and covered her face with her hands. It’s incredible how tired can you become from just being anxious. And about what? Stuff that doesn’t matter anymore. That shouldn’t matter. Sophia looked at the photo for the last time before her eyelids closed shut. She wasn’t sure sleeping would solve her problems, but at least it would stop her from thinking about them.

***

When Nathan told her he would be in the school’s production of the Tempest, Sophia was beyond excited. She kept jumping around him, all bubbly and giddy, saying over and over how proud she was, and how great he would do, and how she wanted to join the production too somehow now that Nathan was in it. And she did, as a makeup artist. She couldn’t contain herself. Before, she didn’t participate in school life much, not having friends to do it with, or the time to spend. Her mom used every free moment she had to get her training. So now, being a part of a performance, doing it together with Nathan filled Sophia with joy.

On the performance’s night, Sophia told Nathan to come for makeup first, since his face required the most effort.

“Don’t move,” she muttered, gently brushing over the boy’s face with paint.

“I’m not,” he mumbled, looking at his knees.

“Just did,” she giggled softly. Nathan huffed but remained silent. His breath was warm on her skin every time she moved her hand past his nose. He was nervous before the performance, as Sophia assumed.

“There,” the girl said, setting the brush aside. “Look at me.”

She raised her hands and lightly caressed Nathan’s face with her fingers, setting his face straight. Moving closer, she looked him over, checking for missed spots. Nathan’s breath hitched and he quickly looked away. His cheeks were burning, and he was forever grateful for makeup covering it. Not finding any significant mistakes, Sophia moved back, grinning.

“Look-look,” she jumped in her chair enthusiastically. Nathan turned his torso to the mirror and smiled widely, seeing the final look.

“Soph, this is amazing. Where did you learn to do all that?”

“My mom made sure I learned to do my own makeup for performances. To hide those hideous freckles of yours,” she mimicked her mother, shaking her head side to side, her voice bitter.

“Your freckles are beautiful,” he uttered. Sophia’s eyes widened. She blinked rapidly, moving a strand of hair behind her ear awkwardly. Nathan, realizing what he just said, felt his cheeks growing hotter. “I—I mean—”

“Thanks, Dimples,” the girl suddenly said, smiling warmly. “It means a lot.”

Deciding against saying anything possibly embarrassing again, Nathan just smiled shyly, fiddling with his fingers.

After that, Sophia was occupied for quite some time, doing the rest of the cast’s makeup. Nathan wasn’t there, so after being finished, she was determined to find him before the show and help him with his lines. Although he was trying to play it cool, Sophia knew Nathan was extremely anxious, and she didn’t want him to be alone with his thoughts at a time like this.

Looking for him, she heard a low voice coming from around a corner. Coming closer, she saw Mr. Prescott hanging over Nathan while hissing in his ear.

“Keep your voice down!”

Air got significantly thicker, and Sophia felt her mouth going dry. Nathan looked even smaller, his dad’s figure was almost pressing him into the ground, making his shoulders shrink. The boy’s gaze was glued to his shoes, he felt cornered and helpless. She couldn’t let this continue. Sophia knew enough about Sean Prescott to see just how much harm was he causing Nathan every day and right now.

“Nate,” she called loudly, making sure to interrupt Mr. Prescott’s speech, “come, I need to fix your makeup.”

She hurriedly approached him and grabbed his hand, dragging him away.

“We’re in the middle of something,” said Mr. Prescott lowly. Sophia stopped and turned back to face him, still squeezing Nathan’s hand in hers. Her narrowed, cold eyes pierced Mr. Prescott’s face.

“The show is about to begin. I have to make sure everyone is looking their best. You are free to visit Nathan in the dressing room and wish him good luck before the show.”

Not waiting for an answer, Sophia turned on her heels and pulled Nathan away, quickly walking towards the tent she came from. Only after entering did the she let go of his hand, leaving him standing in the middle of the dressing room. Sophia walked to the makeup table, grabbed a random brush, and started toying with it. Nathan watched her for a moment, not knowing what to do with himself. His hand went to the back of his neck awkwardly, as he thought of something to say.

“Hey—”

“He’s such an asshole,” she interrupted him, throwing the brush back, “I—Sorry, but—what he’s doing—It’s not okay!” Sophia was rambling, firing herself up the more she thought about what happened. Her hands fell to her sides and clenched into fists. A small smile spread across Nathan’s face.

“I should be the frustrated one, you know.”

Sophia turned around and Nathan’s eyes widened in surprise. Tears were sparkling in her eyes. The expression on her face was so pained, so frustrated as if she was the one to receive the talk from Mr. Prescott. She ached for him. She gave a fuck. Lots of them, actually. Hell, she just dragged him away from his dad. Nathan couldn’t process that. Never in his life did someone care enough about him. Or at all. People were closing their eyes on what was going on in the Prescott family. What was going on with him. They tried to detach themselves, looking away, pretending not to see anything they didn’t want to be a part of. But she didn’t.

Nathan slowly approached her and cautiously took her hand in his, afraid of her reaction but still wanting to try. To his relief, she squeezed it back.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, just above a whisper, “it means a lot. But—don’t cry. Please. Especially because of him.”

“It’s not him, it’s you,” she said, sniffing.

“Well, that doesn’t make it better at all.”

Sophia chuckled, a bitter-sweet smile slowly spreading across her face. She sighed, quickly looking up and blinking rapidly to get rid of the tears.

“Okay, the performance is about to begin, and I’m standing here crying in front of you. Not exactly a good pep talk.”

“They’re going to laugh at me either way.” Nathan averted his gaze and the tension started taking over his body again. Sophia furiously shook her head.

“What? No! No-no-no, Nathan, I’ve seen the rehearsals, your acting is amazing, you’ll kill it!”

“They hate me, Soph. It doesn’t matter what I do or how I do it.”

“Fuck ‘em,” she said, throwing her hand to the side. “They’re just a bunch of jackasses who prey on others. Forget about them. Nathan,” Sophia took both of his hands into hers, “you love theatre. So why not do what you love?”

He looked at her, contemplating, still uncertain, yet grateful for her presence. She tilted her head, looking at him with begging eyes.

“Please, Nate. For me?”

He sighed and nodded.

“For you.”

Sophia squealed and, standing on her tiptoes, pecked Nathan’s cheek, leaving a burning mark. Nathan reflexively covered the kissed spot with his palm, feeling pleasant warmth spreading throughout his body.

“I’ll go find a seat. Break a leg, Dimples.”

***

Sophia woke up to a new message notification. She grumbled, slowly turning over to face the room. The sun has set, she could barely tell the furniture apart in the dark. A sigh left her lips.

“Great, here’s to a sleepless night.”

She brought the phone closer to read the message. The second her eyes went over the screen she jerked up, sitting straight, her body immediately tensing up.

Dimples meet me at the pool

Time seemed to freeze as Sophia sat there, propping herself on her hand, staring at the dialogue that remained dead for months and months until a minute ago. She was blinking rapidly, trying to make sure she was awake. Being the only light source in the room, the phone screen highlighted her face: furrowed brows, lips pressed into a thin line, narrowed eyes that went back and forth over the five words that looked so simple yet were so hard to comprehend. Her heart was pounding as she read the message over and over, trying to see something through the letters. The phone buzzed again, and Sophia jumped, almost dropping it.

Dimples we need to talk

What?

“Are you fucking serious,” she hissed, squeezing the phone harder. Gradually, worry in her chest started turning into anger as she got off the bed, walking to the center of the room and stopping there, eyes not leaving the screen. Oh, now he wants to talk? The moment she decided to screw it he wants to settle things? No thank you. Sophia started typing viciously, one sentence after another, asking what he was thinking she was going to say, did he really think this would work, how dare he do this to her after ignoring her for months in school corridors. Finishing up, Sophia read her answer over. Letting a sigh of frustration, she highlighted the entire thing and erased it.

“Fuck me,” she said under her breath, letting her hands helplessly fall to the sides. Reaching the nightstand, she flipped the lights on and looked over her room, not knowing what to do with herself. Honestly, what was she supposed to do? There was that chance to get clarification, to confront him, to demand answers for his actions. But the timing… she spent so much time forcing herself to move on, to stop caring about Nathan, about their relationship or what was left of it. Choosing to look back meant to waste all her efforts to move past the pain and to jump right back in.

Sophie walked to the wardrobe mirror, looking at her reflection, questioning herself. No matter how much she wanted to shift the responsibility on somebody, there was no one else but her and herself in this room. Her figure, emaciated, bony even through the clothes, stood in the mirror frame downcast, small. Her eyes, too tired for her liking, stared back returning all the questions where they came from. In the midnight silence of the dorm, a decision was to be made; and there was only one person capable.

***

Nathan knew where to find Sophia without her answering to his texts. As the summer approached, she gradually grew more and more frustrated, detaching from him and leaving school earlier each day. In the mornings, she looked exhausted, slowly walking from classroom to classroom, sometimes limping, holding onto her bag with both hands. She was smiling less and seemed constantly distracted.

Nathan knew parental abuse when he saw one. Sophia was strong, way stronger than him. He was sure she kept most of her pains to herself, swallowing them without sharing. But now and then even she vented to him about her mother, and it was enough for Nathan to know that this woman was nothing good for her daughter. Now, as he was walking towards the gym, he figured her feelings were about to spill over the edge. It broke his heart to know what she was going through but he understood it better than anyone else.

He found her sitting on the floor, defeated, hunching her back over her feet. She was still wearing her ballet attire, which meant she’s been training extra hours. Her legs were covered in bruises. Her mother was really out there to crush her in every possible way.

“Hey,” he called quietly, slowly entering the room.

“Go away, Nathan,” her response was sharp, yet he could hear the trembling in her voice she tried to mask by harshness.

“You know I won’t.”

Nathan closed the door behind him and slowly approached Sophia. Noticing his figure above her, she quickly got up and started walking to her bag.

“Then I will.”

“Sophia,” he called her loudly, making her stop in her tracks. He saw her fists clenching as she drew her shoulders in. “Talk to me.”

Nathan knew she’d hate this. Hell, he hated this phrase even more than Sophia did, but for this exact reason did he use it on her. Because he knew she would resonate with it. With him.

“She keeps calling me worthless. Every. Day.” Sophia turned around to face him, her eyes flooded with tears. “That I will never make it if I keep slacking off. But I’m not. I’m tearing my ass off twenty-four-seven, I don’t have a fucking life, Nathan!”

The end of her sentence came out as a sob, and she ran hands through her tied hair, making an effort to maintain a straight face as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“And it wasn’t even my fucking choice! She made it for me! And now she tries to take it away from me. The only thing she let me have, that fucking bitch!”

Hearing the queue, Nathan quickly approached her, pressing her body to his as she sobbed into his chest, her tears soaking through his cardigan. He held her as tight as he could, wanting to squeeze out all the pain she had bottled in for weeks.

“I have nothing else in my life, nothing,” she repeated, holding onto his arms with all her remaining strength. Nathan gently took her by the shoulders and moved Sophia away to look into her eyes. They were red, puffy, and devastatingly tired. She looked back at him in despair, waiting for him to say something.

“You have me.”

Nathan didn’t think anymore. Sophia’s tears made him say and do things without planning them first. He couldn’t bear seeing her upset and hastened to distract her, no matter what it took. So he acted on his instincts. Squeezing her shoulders slightly, taking one moment to gain the courage he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. Closing her eyes, Sophia relaxed into the kiss, not letting go of his arms. The setting sun laid its soft orange rays on their bodies, outlining them in the evening glow. Sounds of birds, leaves, and students were coming through an open window, yet all of them seemed to dissolve in the room’s air. Time moved lazily slow, almost stopping completely.

They didn’t want it to end.

***

Standing in front of the pool entrance, Sophia contemplated her decision for a hundredth time, constantly asking herself if this was a good idea and if she should leave before it wasn’t too late. The door was unlocked. The view of it made her scoff: of course, how else could it be. The school territory was empty, to no one’s surprise, it was past midnight. Sophia was sure some outlaws were up partying at someone’s dorm room. And some of them were standing outside the pool, doing nothing but thinking too much about a yes-no decision. Street lanterns shed their toxic orange light onto the ground, mixing with the moon’s subtle glow. Sophia shifted uncomfortably, hugging herself. The air was cold and cruel, sending goosebumps dancing on her skin.

“Whatever,” she whispered. “Get in, get out. No big deal.”

With this mentality, Sophia approached the door, pushing it and walking inside.

The smell of chlorine hit her nostrils. It was pitch-dark; Sophia fetched her phone to see where she was going. The sound of her steps resonated with the walls, sending an echo through the entire building. She wondered if Nathan could hear her coming. Passing through the girls’ changing room, she entered the pool itself. The turquoise water was still, its reflections played leisurely on the walls. Stopping, Sophia looked around, searching for the painfully familiar figure. It wasn’t long until she saw him: standing across the room, his hands in his pockets, his gaze somewhere down. She walked closer, hesitant to approach him. Her footsteps echoing made Nathan aware of her presence, and he snapped his head up, looking at her surprised. Silence thickened the air, as they stared at each other from the opposite sides of the pool.

“Hey,” Sophia’s voice came out too hoarse and quiet for her liking.

“You came,” Nathan stated, turning to get a better look at her.

“You’re surprised?” She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked suddenly. His speech was fast and abrupt.

“Excuse me?”

“Somerset. Why? You hate it. All of it. Why go there?”

“Do you care?”

“You know I do.” Nathan’s voice went lower as he looked away.

“Actually, no, I don’t think I do anymore!” Sophia felt frustration growing in her chest. “You act all nice around me, then high school starts and you just fucking ghost me! Start acting like you don’t know me, avoid me, talk shit about me?”

“I’ve never talked shit about you.” His eyes return to meet hers.

“Oh wow, thanks, Nathan, how fucking nice of you.”

“If you go, you’ll regret it.”

“Jesus fu—you know what? I knew coming here was a mistake. But at least now I won’t have any difficulty forgetting you. Have a good life, Prescott.” Turning on her heels, Sophia walked back into the changing room, rushing to the exit. Her loud footsteps spread across the building, disturbing the silence. Reaching the door, she aggressively pushed the opening beam. To her dismay, it caused nothing, and the lock remained shut.

“No,” she mumbled pressing onto the beam again, “no, no, no. Fuck!” Sophia slammed her hands on the door, helplessly pressing her forehead against it. She was locked in.

They were.

Instantly regretting the decision to exit her room at all, she looked down at her feet, trying to think of any possible solution. The only option available seemed to be coming back to the pool.

“Fuckin—” Sophia winced and squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. Deciding there was nothing to lose anymore she slowly made her way back. Nathan, seeing her figure yet again, looked at her questionably.

“We’re locked in.” She stated. “Can you open the door?”

“Shit. No, I can’t.” “What?” she threw her hands in the air, “you opened it in the first place!”

“Yeah. You were supposed to leave it open.”

“You were supposed to freaking tell me!”

“I thought you’d figure.”

Letting out a growl, Sophia walked to the pool’s wall and slid down, sitting on the floor and burying her gaze in her phone. Its sharp brightness illuminated her annoyed face as she opened Facebook and started scrolling down her feed, not looking at any of the posts. Nathan sighed.

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting,” she cut off.

“For what?”

“For the school guard to open the door.”

“We’ll be here till the morning.”

“Great, I haven’t checked my news feed since yesterday.”

Nathan looked up, frustrated. His eyes searched the ceiling for some hint, yet all he saw was jiggling water reflections.

“Talk to me Soph, please.”

“Funny, I was telling you the same thing a few months ago. Guess how that turned out?” “Stop acting like a bitch already.”

“Oh-ho-ho,” Sophia’s eyebrows flew up as she shifted attention from her phone, fury burning in her eyes. “Look who’s talking!” She shot up and finally closed the gap between them, approaching Nathan and staring him directly in the eye. “You have completely lost your shit if you think you can treat me like I’m some annoyance to you, after asking me to come here. Is this why you called me? To get another chance to be an asshole?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

“I wanted to ask you about Somerset.”

“Bullshit!” she pointed at his chest, putting Nathan under pressure, making him look away, “you could’ve used your phone for that, instead of luring me into the pool at midnight. Why do you suddenly give a shit? Why are you suddenly so invested in my life? Why, after months of neglecting me and ignoring my existence do you think it’s okay to—”

Nathan grabbed Sophia’s hand and yanked it off. His eyebrows knitted together in rage as his gaze locked with Sophia’s, making her take a step back.

“Because I don’t want you to leave!”

***

The entire school was gossiping about Sophia for the last week. It’s been a month since Nathan Prescott has officially “unfriended” her, and everyone was out for blood, ready to say anything for the littlest sense of entertainment.

“Oh em gee, have you seen Hughes lately? She looks like a fucking Victorian ghost.”

“Uh, don’t get me started, I don’t believe this shit for one second. Anorexia my ass.”

“Imagine faking a disease for attention? Can’t relate.”

“Shh!”

And that was the queue for Sophia to enter the classroom, per usual. She looked different from middle school. Her face was pale, exhausted. Her cheekbones were horridly sharp, sticking out unnaturally from her visage. Her eyes, hollow and fatigued, surrounded by dark circles, slowly looked around the room, before she approached her desk, sinking into the chair like a rag doll.

Quickly after her, Nathan entered the room, being immediately surrounded by people who were discussing Sophia mere seconds ago. He greeted them indifferently and glanced in Sophia’s direction, catching her eyeing him back. The space between them stiffened, unspoken words lingering in the air. Nathan was the first one to look away, rubbing his neck and sitting down. Sophia followed, burying her gaze in the surface of her desk. She always knew how these encounters would end, but the awareness never eased the pain. It was the first month since she last spoke with Nathan, and it was insufferably far from being the last.

***

“I don’t want you to leave, Sophia. You’re the only good thing this entire shithole has, the only good thing I have, without you… nothing will make sense.”

For the first time in months, Sophia saw softness in Nathan’s gaze. She crossed her arms protectively, feeling emotion already creeping on her. She examined his features she’d already forgotten after such a long pause.

“Then why did you abandon me?” Her question is quiet and not even angry, just sad and hurt. She looks at him with pain and expectation, finally granting him the benefit of the doubt.

“Because—” Nathan grabbed onto his head along with the last bits of composure, squeezing his eyes shut. His breath fastened as he started rocking his body back and forth. “Because I’m fucked up, Sophia! Okay? Everything about me is fucked up.”

“Is this your reason for shutting me off?” She interrupted him.

“You weren’t supposed to see any of it. I cut you off so I could figure my shit without getting you involved. But it got worse and worse, and I just—I couldn’t allow you near me. You don’t deserve this,” he pointed at himself, “any of this.”

“It’s not your call to make,” Sophia parried, loosening the grip on her shoulders, “the amount of time I spent questioning myself, trying to figure out what I did wrong—”

“You did nothing wrong.”

“Well, you weren’t there to tell me.”

Sorrow distorted Nathan’s expression. He narrowed his eyes, fighting back emotion, seeing Sophia’s lips shiver lightly.

“I know, I—shit—I blame myself every fucking day for this. For fucking this up and losing the only nice thing I had.”

Sophia remained silent, biting on her cheek. Nathan couldn’t tell what she was thinking, he felt exposed, put on the spot, which probably suited him right. It was a nerve-wracking feeling like the judge was about to voice the verdict, and he was the accused. He watched her face cautiously, afraid to catch any sign of distressing news.

“You still have it.”

Sophia’s voice was barely above a whisper as she said it, returning Nathan’s pained gaze. Maybe she was wrong for doing this. For giving him another chance so soon. Or at all. But this conversation, no matter how heartbreaking, was the best thing happening to Sophia in a long time. She couldn’t help but feel happy from just being able to talk to Nathan again. Yeah, she probably was stupid.

“Is there really nothing you can do to open the door?” She quickly followed up, changing the topic.

Nathan shifted in his place.

“I’m—I’ll see if someone’s up, maybe they can break us out of here.”

Sophia nodded, watching him reach for the phone into the pocket of his jacket. As he was pulling it out, she noticed something small falling to the ground and landing at her feet. Before Nathan could notice, she kneeled and picked it up. It was a photo of her.

She remembered that day clearly: she was training in the gym, and Nathan was watching her, taking pictures. He said he needed to snap some photos for his photography assignment, but something was telling Sophia he just wanted to spend time with her. Either way, she didn’t mind. She was already done dancing when she heard his camera click again.

What’re you doing? She asked him, sitting on the floor.

Sorry. You mind? He shyly lowered the camera.

You know I don’t. It’s just—I’m not exactly photogenic right now. She smiled, gesturing around her.

Wanna see?

She nodded. The photo was surreal. Sophia’s figure was seated on the floor, her upper body bent down, reaching forward over her lifted knees. Her feet, bare, with the dance shoes lying next to them, were bruised and calloused, framed by Sophia’s hands treating them. She remembered Nathan calling it The Cost. It was dark but wholesome. Very much Nathan’s style.

“Oh, um—" She heard Nathan stutter, making her digress from the photo.

“You still have it,” she stated softly, astounded.

“Of course I do,” he said hesitantly. He reached his hand forward, taking the picture back from her, their fingers lightly touching in the process. Sophia sighed, rubbing her face tiredly. To think she spent most of the day not doing anything yet felt more exhausted than from any of her ballet training. Lowering herself, she sat cross-legged at the pool’s edge, watching the water shift in the dark. Nathan did the same, placing himself next to her. His phone screen caught her attention, and she glanced to the side, catching a glimpse of his contacts. Among many names of the Blackwell academy, one of them said “Freckles.” This made her smile: guess she wasn’t the only one.

“Nope. None of the assholes are answering. Guess we’re stuck here. Sorry.” He looked at her, seeing her small smile.

“Freckles?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Oh. I—I forgot to change it, it’s—I can—”

“Whatever. I didn’t change you either.”

Silence fell on them again, leaving the pool to be the only source of background sounds. It wasn’t awkward anymore; if anything, it felt relaxing to finally sit there quietly in each other’s presence. Like the old times. Sophia would lie if she said she didn’t miss this. Without Nathan in her life, silences became insufferable, but in his company, they were calming. She could spend hours just sitting there, doing nothing if Nathan was beside her. Water reflections danced on their bodies, turning them and the entire room pale-blue. It almost felt like some otherworldly place, away from Earth.

She glanced at Nathan: he looked nervous; she could tell he wasn’t as relaxed as she was, but it was fair, considering he was the one at fault. She eyed him up and down, noticing that his leg was shaking lightly. He really got worse from middle school: his ticks severed, he became fidgety and snappy. Sophia could only imagine the amount of pressure he was under. His dad was probably giving him hell every day. Watching him tremble, she decided to fill the silence with talking.

“So,” she began, uncertain of how to phrase the sentence, “what’s going on with this, “she gestured between them, “us.”

“We’re friends,” he answered, although it sounded more like a question as if he was unsure of his own words. Sophia pursed her lips, looking at her reflection in the water. If they already were going through all the highs and lows of their relationship, she could as well add to the discussion. Not looking up, she muttered it out, quick enough not to change her mind:

“Aren’t we more than that?”

There was silence again, and Sophia wasn’t sure if Nathan was silent because he didn’t understand what she meant or because he did. She fought herself over stopping the thought now or proceeding and seeing where it would go. She ended up thinking she’s already said A, might as well say B.

“We kissed. Last year of middle school.”

She waited again and, receiving no answer still, proceeded.

“At the gym.”

“I remember,” Nathan interrupted her description.

“What was it?” She finally looked at him, gaining up the courage.

“A kiss,” he said shortly, still avoiding her gaze.

“Nathan, I swear to god,” Sophia rolled her eyes, “you know what I mean.”

“I don’t know, okay? It just—sort of happened.”

“You never mentioned it after that. Then summer came, and you disappeared.”

“I didn’t want to ruin what we had.” Sophia gazed at Nathan skeptically, quirking a brow, forcing a groan out of him. “Not in that way. I was afraid it would ruin our friendship.”

“First of all, ironic, second... why?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?” She furrowed her brows in confusion. Nathan closed his eyes and turned his head away completely, hiding his face.

“That I love you.”

Sophia froze in her place, starring at the back of Nathan’s head, his words echoing in her mind. He turned his head back, still looking at the pool.

“I don’t wanna say it.”

She looked at the pool too, as if there was something that grabbed their attention from each other. Seeing Nathan’s reflection, she looked at him, noticing he was looking back at her through the water.

“You just did.”

Perhaps it was easier, looking at each other’s reflections instead of facing reality because Sophia’s heart was pounding with merciless force. It was everything she could hear in her head: the thumps of her heart and Nathan’s confession, smashing together into a big mess that sent Sophia into a hazy trance.

“I can take it back,” Nathan rasped. His leg was shaking furiously now, sending his entire body in motion.

“Don’t.”

Sophia’s voice, like a triggering alarm, distracted them from the water surface and brought their gazes together. Their eyes shared terror, it intertwined somewhere in the middle, making their bodies tense, yet being the common ground for them to stand on. Sophia couldn’t tell if she was still breathing or not, her mind seemed to separate from her body, taking off and wandering around the room, merging with the water glimpses that kept dancing on the walls.

Their bodies, like magnets, slowly gravitated toward each other, shortening the distance until there was none. Nathan smelled of cologne and cigarettes, she smelled of lavender and sedatives. They balanced on an edge, not being able to move or breathe any longer, just rooted to their spots, insanely close, contemplating the last millimeter that held them apart. Then, like going down a slide, their lips pressed together, and the ball of tension exploded, returning the air into their lungs and the sense of control over their muscles. Sophia’s arms entwined around Nathan’s neck, she pressed her body to his, shifting the weight on him, willing to give herself to him entirely. Nathan’s arms accepted her with passion, locking behind her, pulling her in his direction. The motions of their bodies made them lose their balance and sent them into the pool. A loud splash emerged into the quiet air, disturbing the room’s silence. The gleaming reflections broke loose and began to shake vigorously, setting the entire place in motion.

All the noise around them turned into a vacuum as their bodies floated below the surface. Pushed back up, they gasped for air shortly before their lips collapsed again, with a bigger force. Nathan lifted Sophia up, resting her on top of him while her hands found his cheeks, grasping them to hold him close. Nathan held her body tightly against his, as if afraid of her moving away. Sophia lifted her lips from his ever so lightly, just to be able to whisper her pleads into them.

“I don’t want to leave,” she sobbed voicelessly, hiding her face in the crook of his neck, “I don’t want to leave, I don’t want to leave.”

“Stay,” he replied shakily, kissing her ear. She lifted her head and looked Nathan in the eyes, furiously shaking her head in agreement. Tears streamed down her cheeks, mixing with pool water.

“I love you, I love you,” she choked on her cries, kissing Nathan again, eager, desperate, forcing the entirety of her emotions down on Nathan’s shoulders. He accepted it gladly, happily, holding her close and swearing on the entire world to never leave her again. To never let go.

***

The aftermath wasn’t as fun after the heat of the moment passed. Seated on the floor in some towels they found in the changing rooms, their bodies shook from cold, as they leaned against each other seeking warmth.

“I don’t know what I will say to my mom,” Sophia said, chuckling, “she’ll probably beat the shit out of me.”

“I won’t let her,” Nathan replied, “I’ll call my lawyer and make her stay the fuck away from you.”

“Aw,” she cooed, “I wouldn’t normally find your rich talk adorable, but it’s very nice of you.”

Her smile then faded, which caught Nathan’s attention. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, distracting her from her thoughts.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just—” she played with the hem of her towel anxiously, “maybe it’s not her who needs to stay away. Maybe it’s us.”

“What do you mean?”

She turned to face him and grabbed his hands in hers, suddenly determined.

“Let’s run away.”

He looked at her startled as if trying to be sure he understood her correctly. “Huh?”

“Fuck this place. Fuck Arcadia Bay. Fuck Blackwell. Fuck Somerset. Fuck all these people, two-faced snobs, and dirty junkies. Fuck our parents. Fuck everything.”

She moved her hands away, looking at him hesitantly, afraid of his reaction. Would he disagree? Would he get angry with her for saying something so radical? Would he refuse her and her offer? Sophia felt the time drag painfully slow as she watched Nathan’s face for any sign of emotion, anything that would let her know what he thought.

Growing anxious, she averted her gaze.

“You know what—”

“Fuck everything.”

Her head jerked back, meeting with Nathan’s determined gaze. Staring back at her, he nodded, smiling devilishly. “Fuck everything!”

Seeing his reaction, Sophia started laughing, connecting their hands back together. The relief ran through her body, lifting the tension of her shoulders.

“Fuck everything,” she echoed after him.

Nathan leaned in, kissing Sophia, feeling her smiling against his lips. The smell of chlorine, usually irritating, brought him a sense of joy he’s grown so unfamiliar with. He could sit there forever, on the cold floor tiles, wearing damp clothes, freezing, yet feeling growing warmth starting from Sophia’s lips and transferring to his, spreading through his body.

Nathan’s phone rang, breaking the moment. Groaning in irritation, he pulled away from Sophia, checking the new messages.

“Victoria answered,” he said, typing, “she called the guys to break us out.”

Sophia smiled, pulling the towel off her shoulders. “Cool. Can’t wait to change.”

“Tell me about it,” Nathan chuckled, getting up and offering her a hand. She rolled her eyes, accepting it.

“Although,” not letting go of his hand after standing up she brought her face close to his, “I am glad we got locked up.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“What will Victoria say about—this?” she squeezed Nathan’s hand firmly.

“I don’t care. Why?”

“I kind of thought you were a thing. She was always around you.”

“What? No, we’re just friends. Wait,” he looked at her slyly, “you thought we were together and still kissed me?”

“You kissed me,” Sophia countered.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Their dialogue got interrupted by loud noises piercing the air.

“That’s our queue. Let’s get out of here,” Nathan said, walking in the exit’s direction. Sophia lingered in spot, looking at Nathan’s back. He suddenly stopped, looking back at her.

“Soph?”

She raised her eyebrows in question.

“Did you mean it? Running away?”

“I did, “she said firmly. “Did you?”

He nodded.

“Good,” she smiled.

Nathan smiled back at her. He looked calmer, steadier. Reassured.

“C’mon,” he said after staying silent for a moment, “or you want to spend the night in the pool?”

Sophia rolled her eyes, catching up to him.

“Maybe another time.”

#life is strange #nathan prescott #victoria chase #nathan prescott x reader #nathan prescott x oc #nathan prescott imagine #lis #lis before the storm #life is strange before the storm #before the storm

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endlessly-cursed · 1 year

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primrose gray's main women + name meanings

ft. victoria somerset, alina mikelova, nadia erbland ( @gcldensnitch ) niamh kelly ( @unfortunate-arrow ) cora hastings & georgia coventry ( @camillejeaneshphm ) roxanne haley ( @mjs-oc-corner ) & siobhan llewellyn ( @kc-and-co )

#hphl #hp victorian era #oc: primrose sabrina gray #victoria somerset #alina mikelova #nadia erbland #niamh kelly #cora hastings #georgia coventry #roxie haley #siobhan llewellyn #mygifset*#mine*

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endlessly-cursed · 1 year

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Primrose Gray’s Legacy, Act One, The Younger Years, Chapter Six: One Last Name

A/N: After a long block, I finally came around and finished this!! This chapter is as hilarious as it is angsty and cute. Enjoy!!

Summary: Primrose’s mother summons her on a weekend to Winbourne, and when she finds out the reasin why, she cannot just accept it. But she can get rid of it with womanly wits.

OCs featured: Henry of Alderly, Malcolm & Estelle Stolberg-Burke ( @gaygryffindorgal ) William Devlin ( @unfortunate-arrow )

OCs mentioned: William Devlin (more mentioned than featured tbh) Siobhan Llewellyn ( @kc-and-co ) (briefly)

Warnings: Angst, mentions of inbreeding and being part of the nobility

Word Count: 3.0k

Taglist: @gaygryffindorgal @nicos-oc-hell @camillejeaneshphm @hphmmatthewluther @catohphm @thatravenpuffwitch @magicallymalted

Easter had fallen upon the castle, and many spoke of how excited they were for seeing their families for two weeks before coming back for their exams. Primrose had been among them when she rose, but the moment her mother sent her the awaited letter, everything changed.

To my dearest daughter,

Easter is almost upon us, and having you back home is a joy that no words in any language could my heart express.

This Easter is special, for these holidays we have an important guest: your dear cousin, George Barton, who just turned ten and five and has been looking forward meeting you. He is the son of my beloved aunt and godmother, and a gentleman whose reputation is beyond reproach.

I have sent you a dress in which I want you to dress in during your journey back home. I expect you to be on your best behaviour, for impressing this man is capital for us. I’m afraid we’ll have to postpone your friends coming over for another time. This is family business.

I also advise that we hush about Hogwarts. During his stance here, you are studying in Switzerland and just came back.

Your most loving and affectionate,

Mother.

Primrose moaned as a complain of having to impress a toot. Henry noticed and looked at her, questioning what had happened. Not hungry anymore, they headed towards the gardens. Malcolm noticed them and waved them.

“Come join us, Prim!” Estelle cried.

They obliged and Primrose barely touched her toast. Estelle raised an eyebrow “You seem preoccupied.”

“Yeah,” Henry followed “what is it?”

“Your secret’s safe with us.” Malcolm assured.

Primrose sighed and handed them the letter. Malcolm read it aloud and Henry squeezed her hand. “That sounds suspicious. Why so keen on impressing a cousin?”

“Estelle,” Malcolm warned his sister.

“I’m with Estelle,” Henry concluded “your mother’s matchmaking campaign isn’t over.”

Primrose’s eyes widened and felt a lump on her throat “But… he is my cousin!” She cried, horrified by the idea.

“You wouldn’t be the first one to marry her cousin.”

“I’m afraid that’s true. For what I’ve seen in History of Magic, it is a common practise still.”

“Not only in history, but here. The Gaunts have inbreeding practises still. And they’re not the only ones.” Estelle added.

Primrose cringed at the idea and fanned herself, trying not to throw up out of disgust. Estelle and Henry quickly fanned her as well as Malcolm waved his wand and his cup of water was now cold enough. Primrose gulped it all rather unladylike and sighed “Thank you, Mal.”

“No problem. Cold water is good for cooling off disgust. You were starting to turn green.”

Henry and Estelle giggled and Primrose covered her face in her hands, moaning again in despair “Maybe I can say that I am bedridden because of Flying class?”

They all laughed as Primrose whined, knowing that this dinner had no escape.

Saturday had come, and Vincent Gray was on his way to pick up his daughter. If he wasn’t thrilled at all, he didn’t show it. Instead, he kissed his daughter’s forehead and smiled at her “Look on the positive side: if you get bored, you can fake food poisoning and retreat earlier.”

Primrose looked at her father curiously “And how does one do it?”

Vincent smirked “Get into the carriage and I’ll happily teach you.”

William was there to bid her goodbye, and he had to kiss her hand “I hope you have a pleasant holiday and that we can see each other soon,” he said, as it had been requested by the viscounts and rehearsed.

Primrose, with an equally rehearsed smile, inclined her head towards him in thank you and turned to get into the carriage with his help.

“Take care of yourself, William, and remember my advice.”

He only nodded before drifting off to his dorm. He’d be picked by the viscountess later.

As the carriage passed the magical barriers, Primrose, with her blue navy riding habit, looked at her father “I believe that you were about to tell me how I could fake food poisoning. I hope it does not require actual poison.”

Vincent smiled knowingly “Leave that to your dear father.”

As they arrived, Primrose had been asleep after a thorough class on food poisoning and was clueless of the receiving she was about to get. Vincent had an eagle’s eyes and soon woke up his daughter and applied the water spell to wash off the sleep off her face and straightened out her dress.

The door opened and all of her servants curtsied to her in line as her mother, the Dowager Duchess Olympia and a tall, blonde boy around her age stood there, arrogance in his eyes. Beatrice soon put an apron on the muddy floor as Vincent helped his daughter off the carriage and Beatrice cried out “Lady Primrose Sabrina Gray, Heiress of Winbourne!”

The boy in question didn’t wait for her to come to him and kissed her hand. He was around fifteen or seventeen and had a sneer on his face “My lady. Your generosity knows no bounds, though I expected you to be taller.”

Primrose, having been in her friend Siobhan’s influence, had to bite off a sarcastic comeback and simply smiled as she curtsied “My lord. You honour me with your presence.”

“Indeed.” Vincent said, a sarcastic tone on his face “We are much obliged to host you here.”

“Of course you are.” He smirked.

Primrose was not a violent woman, but a slap for his arrogance would’ve been gratifying. She simply greeted her mother and great-aunt. The old Olympia squeezed her cheek and smiled “What a handsome young girl you are! You shall be the bane of many men’s existences.”

“You honour me, Your Grace.”

“Oh, dearest, call me aunt!”

She nodded as they went to take tea and Primrose went to change her riding habit to a baby blue dress and her hair in semi-collected hairdo and applied eau de cologne with the smell of primroses. She went down the stairs and Beatrice mouthed good luck before she entered the room. There, Olympia smiled “My grandson George is just a jewel of a boy, is he not?”

“Indeed. A man of respectable wealth, looks, lands and reputation.”

“How do you like your tea, dear cousin?”

Primrose almost spilled out her cup of water “Pardon?”

Olympia cried “Hasn’t your mother told you? I was the sister of your late grandfather, and godmother of your mother! Oh, Vicky, you and your secrets…”

Primrose’s heartbeat dropped as she looked at her mother in despair. Her mother smiled “Surprise, dear!”

She stood up to leave and lock herself in a room, but the moment her feet touched the ground, she fainted. She could only hear her mother crying out for a doctor before she gave into the darkness.

Three hours later, she woke up, and Vincent covered her in kisses, trying to supress tears falling from his eyes. Beatrice started fanning her and Primrose thanked her before throwing a pillow to her father.

“Primrose! To what do I owe this behaviour?!” He cried, equally surprised and hurt by the hatred in his daughter’s eyes.

“Did you know?! That we are cousins?!”

“I’m afraid so, dearest.”

“And you’re alright with it?! Does Viscount Carlisle know that you’re trying to throw him under the train?!” She demanded, in a higher voice than it was proper.

“He does not, and neither did I till I came to fetch you at Hogwarts. Beatrice told me—,”

She turned around violently towards her lady’s maid and cried out “You knew?!”

Beatrice turned red in shame and bit her lip, nodding “Your mother’s maid told me via letter and I…”

“You what?! Kept quiet without telling me?!”

“Primrose—,”

“Get out! All of you!” She screamed, her cheeks burning hot, her heart going fast and breathing hard, trembling with rage. They all obliged and left, and Primrose hid her face in a pillow as she cried and screamed into it. She yelled many times that she would not go to the dinner, and stayed that way during all Friday night.

On Saturday morning, Primrose had woken up from the third time, and the day was about to begin. Putting on some petticoats and boots, she used the vines from her window to sneak out and ran towards the stables and soon picked her beloved horse, Ledger, and soon set off to the forest, riding for a long time. The wind in her hair, in the early morning, where the birds had woken with her and not even the milkman was to be heard with his cries, Primrose soon stopped her horse when she saw that she had reached the limits of her estate.

Spotting a tree with many fresh apples, she saddled her horse and climbed the tree, picking several apples. She bit into the red one and sighed, trying to get off her image the nightmares of waking up in a wedding dress and, when she went downstairs to fetch her mother, found herself in a church where everyone looked at her as George laughed at her. The third time she had that nightmare and woke up panting and barely breathing, she took off then.

Having eaten something, she closed her eyes as she enjoyed the early morning’s breeze and the chirping of the birds, the sound of being the first person to wake up in the morning.

She almost forgot about George and her mother’s attempts to replace poor William with her first cousin. Almost. When a baritone voice woke her from her inner peace “Excuse me, miss?”

She opened her eyes to find a man, about twenty, squinting his eyes as he asked “May I know why are you in my dominion? Are you lost? Where are your parents?”

She started stammering as she got down from the tree, some apples falling off her nightgown. She had never felt to bare and vulnerable. She started to clean off the crust and stepping back from the gentleman “I was—I was just leaving.”

“It’s alright, just tell me your name.”

“G-good day, sir!” She cried before mounting Ledger again and storming off the fields. She rode and rode as fast as she could, praying that she would not be followed. Suddenly, another neigh called her attention and she stopped in short, finding her own father in a full riding habit and with a worried expression. Primrose now felt truly doomed.

“Primrose Sabrina Gray!” He cried “Where on earth have you been! You left in the morning, no note, escaping from the window like a bandit, undressed and without an escort!” He had never raised his voice at her until now. Primrose’s eyes glassed, trying to collect herself “What if a bandit found you? He would’ve kidnapped you! He would’ve killed you, or—or… Godric, just why! What if I didn’t find you?! How could you be so—so reckless and stupid?!”

He finally his daughter’s silent weeping as she dismounted her horse, trembling of pure sadness and guilt, the hem of her nightgown full of detritus from trees and the horse grunting, feeling her owner’s pain. Vincent finally mellowed at such sight and dismounted his loyal horse as he dropped to his knees, hugging his daughter. She was quick to squeeze him in the hug and she muttered “I am sorry, Papa. I—I couldn’t sleep—and I had—I had nightmares and—and then—I rode off and—and and—,”

He covered the crown of her head in kisses “It’s alright, darling girl. You’re here, in my arms and safe, that’s all that matters.” He kissed her again and wiped her tears “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you—,”

“You were not. I deserved it.”

“Hey, hey! Look at me.” He cupped her small face into his hands “Never once think that you deserve to be disrespected or disregarded in any form by a man. Much less me. You’re a lady, and what’s more, you’re a human being, worthy of respect. Never tell me that you deserve to be yelled at or any sort of disrespect again. Alright? Now, come here, I’ll sneak you into the house and give you a bath before your mother realizes you’re not sleeping.”

“Will you ever forgive me?” She asked in a raspy voice.

He kissed her nose “I already had. The moment I saw you safe, I forgave you. And you? Do you forgive the poor sod of your father?

She hugged him tightly, and he allowed himself to be in his little girl’s arms for a while before going back to the estate.

After such a morning, Primrose dressed in beautiful violet tulle and brushed her hair, glad to have put all that behind. Of all the options she had been given, marrying someday William wasn’t as bad as her own cousin or a stuffy duke who’d be older than her. She was going to reject him in such a kind way, he couldn’t possibly be mad.

As lunch approached, the knock on her door let her know that the battle had begun, and she’d win it at any cost. She had learned from her aunt Alina that in the high society’s game, when you were a woman in power, it was either winning or winning. An example of it was the queen herself. She had won by being visible, quiet, patient and wise. And she would be no less. In these less bloodthirsty times, the cunning and intelligence was of great importance when it came to power, no matter how small it was.

Going down, she bowed to the respective guests and family members and sat down, wanting to look as innocent as ever, though, despite her tender age, she did catch up on some things quickly.

“Tell me, my little peony, do you enjoy poetry?” Dowager Duchess Olympia asked.

“Oh, very much! At my school, dearest Willie reads me some of it.”

George cleared his throat “Who?”

She looked at him with a clueless and innocent semblance “Why, my betrothed! Such a lovely boy, he is!”

Primrose didn’t care whether he was jealous or just pissed off that someone beat him at the game. He could choke on that feeling, whatever it was.

Vincent, catching up on what his daughter was doing, smiled “Oh, yes, little Will! Our little blossom just adores her future husband. William this, William that, he is just the perfect match for me, she says!”

Victoria’s eyes twitched with a fake smile “Ah, yes, a girl’s infatuation. Priceless feeling.”

“What infatuation, Mama? I already love him! You two picked the best man for me, honestly.”

Victoria hissed in her ear “Stop that now!”

She just smiled innocently at her guests. Olympia was uncomfortable, for she considered that a promise was a promise “And how long have you been promised to him?”

“Oh, a few months—,”

“Since she was but eight years old. She adored him already when they met, and he is very much charmed with her!” Vincent smiled proudly.

“That is rather a long time,” George observed. How Primrose wished she could photograph that moment.

“He is the love of my life, I can tell!” She smiled. Best to serve the cake now “How I wish to be Mrs. Devlin and give him dark-haired babies!”

Her father had to drink wine to hide his laughter “It shall pass, my girl.”

George was fuming, having got the hint that were he to propose, she’d say no, and Olympia was convinced that she loved that boy. Beatrice had to go to a servant’s hall to laugh in muffles.

It seemed like the Barton’s visit would be over in a few hours.

When saying goodbye to their visitors, she whispered to George when he wished her well “We may share one last name and family, but that will never be enough for me to ever become your wife.” She smirked and said in high voice “Thank you for your visit. You shall be missed!”

Some servants snickered and her father bit his lip. Victoria was displeased.

When they left, she said “To my office, Primrose. Now.”

With her head high, she followed her mother and sat with ladylike manner. She turned around “Since when do you have affections for that boy, hm?”

“He is a good boy and he treats me well.”

She scoffed “I am trying to rid you off a loveless engagement and you just hijack it!”

“And trapping me in another will make me happy by marrying my cousin?” She asked.

Victoria massaged her temple “I am buying you time. Engagements can be broken!”

“I am quite satisfied with my own.”

“That,” Victoria cried “is a farce! Everybody whispers how the Carlisle’s have tricked us into his little bastard marrying into the family!”

“Let them whisper. I’d rather be engaged to a good man than my blood cousin who happens to be a git.”

“Primrose,” Victoria warned.

“You talk of love, of how I will love the husband you choose for me. What about me? Can you not trust my decision? Or my criteria, just because I am young? Have you ever thought whether I want to begin my adult life married and carrying numerous children? No! You don’t, and never have. You just want me to follow your path, don’t you?”

Victoria raised her hand, but stopped in short when Primrose ducked in advance. A sepulchral silence haunted the room before Primrose left, not wanting to be in the same room as the woman who had wanted to slap her.

Hours later, she asked her father to take her back to Hogwarts. He agreed upon hearing why. And when she arrived in the dorm, she laid in her bed, trying not to cry before her classmates until it was very late. It’d be one of the few times Primrose ever stayed late.

#hp victorian era #hp fanfiction #primrose gray's legacy #pgl book one #the younger years #oc: primrose sabrina gray #henry of alderly #malcolm stolberg-burke #estelle stolberg-burke #william devlin #george barton #olympia somerset #vincent somerset #victoria somerset #mywriting*

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endlessly-cursed · 2 years

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𝙑𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙖 𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙩

“𝘼 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙣. 𝘼 𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙤𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙣𝙩.”

BASICS

Name: Victoria Augusta Somerset

Birthday: 26th of March, 1858

Zodiac sign: Aries

Weight: 62kg

Height: 1.57m

Religion: Anglican

Eye colour: Blue

Hair colour: Black

Faceclaim: Emily Blunt (especially in The Young Victoria)

FAMILY

Mother: Helene Somerset, neé Greengrass

A squib from the pureblood family of Greengrass, Helene was named after Helen of Troy, for her beauty and wit was incomparable. Her family bashed her for her ‘shameful status’ and at 16, she changed her name to Catherine Donovan and started serving as a lady’s maid in the famous household of the Somersets at the service of Lady Olympia Somerset. They even eloped and married in secret with Olympia as their witness and the one to pay everybody involved to shut their mouths in December 1856. The new year was rocky, for William and Olympia’s parents tried to annull the marriage, but Olympia’s auspicious marriage made it possible for them remain married in exchange for an heir. That year, in 1857, George was born. In 1858, they’d have Victoria, named after the queen so they’d be back in favour. Helene quickly gained popularity and, with the help of Olympia, she became yet another fellow socialite of the era, the ton quickly moving on from that.

Father: William George Somerset, fouth of his name

The firstborn son, he was named after King William IV and was a sweet, but authoritarian man who always knew he’d be viscount. He was engaged to Evangeline Beaumont, the daughter of a broke earl. Three months into the engagement, he met his sister Olympia’s lady’s maid and fell in love with her intelligence and beauty and soon dumped Evangeline for her. They eloped and married in 1856 with the help of his sister and Helene conceived George during that time. His parents didn’t approve of their marriage and tried to send her away and marry him to Evangeline, but he revealed that she was pregnant with their son and heir and the parents gave them a chance, not wanting the family to be stained with a bastard situation. In 1858, they had Victoria.

In 1873, William died of gout and didn’t get to see the tragedy befalling his son and his daughter becoming the second viscountess in her own right.

Other relatives: Olympia Somerset, aunt & godmother

Olympia is Vcky’s idol and has always admired her beauty and wished to be more like her. She once aspired to be like her: to marry someone wealthy and with titles and was for a long time her protegé. Olympia was the one to defend her when her Hogwarts letter came and the one who made sure her parents stayed married. She was her rock for years, supporting her as the rightful heir of Winbourne over their own son.

Friends: Alina Mikelova (sister-in-law)

Alina came into Vicky’s life during her engagement and eventual marriage to her brother George, and became her rock and best friend after Olympia passed away, taking her under her wing, for she was a foreigner and didn’t know the customs of the time. They soon became best of friends apart from sisters and Alina, even in her grief, was happy to accept Victoria as her successor for viscountess. They loved one another dearly and their tombs, as well as their husbands’, are buried in the same crypt.

Significant Other: Vincent Joseph Gray

Victoria and Vincent met at Hogwarts. He had heard that an important lady of high society would be coming. By this time, it was a rare thing. She was sorted into Ravenclaw and he was in Slytherin. They hanged in different groups and didn’t see each other much... until fifth year, when Vincent bluffed that a woman like Victoria (who was present) wouldn’t match his duelling skills. She calmly smiled at him and stupefied him, slamming him against the wall and told him “A fool plays the game to win. A wise one plays their opponent.” She then whispered “Do not doubt my prowess or skill. I am match for any man like yourself, Mr. Gray.” Ever since, Vincent became smitten with such an intriguing and ardent woman, falling head over the heels. By that time, Victoria had remained in Hogwarts to escape an engagement to a much older man, and Vincent declared his love and went as far to ask permission to her parents to court her. Seeing an escape of a wealthy man who wouldn’t annex Winbourn to any land, they accepted, wanting her married before her 20th birthday.

They married in June 1877, and both had a close and loving relationship. Sadly, Victoria miscarried a child early into 1879. In 1881, they had their first and only child, Primrose. By law, she got his name, and wasn’t expected as the heir. They lost another four children of miscarriages and the doctor told off Victoria on getting pregnant no more, or else it’d kill her. Though he was afraid of getting her pregnant again and killing her, they got up to stuff and remained close until 1898. Victoria fell ill with cancer and wouldn’t survive for long. In August 1899, Victoria passed away, and Vincent was devastated. He went on a trip for a secret business he never revealed and found out too late that the Duke of Buckingham had seized Winbourne and Alina hostage and would marry her by any means unless Primrose, who was just 17, surrendered to him and marry him in Alina’s stead. She did neither, and after a night’s ride in a stolen Abraxan, got Winbourne back with the help of the village with a motivational speech in which she said “I am aware that I am young and feeble still, but my heart and will are a Viscount’s one, and most certainly of a Viscount of Winbourne. I’ll have you know I’ll happily die before I am submitted to a tyrant’s will.” She duelled him and won, which made him extremely proud of his little girl. This action would always be remembered by everybody for years to come. Vincent joined her in eternal peace in 1923 of old age.

PERSONALITY

Overall personality: Victoria is lady-like, well-read, polite, passionate and stubborn as they come. She also has a bravery and temper of a thousand fires, which was passed down to their daughter.

Positive traits: Kind, polite, well-read, lady-like and brave.

Negative traits: Stubborn, proud, haughty and a bit entitled.

Guilty pleasure: French goods

HOMETOWN

Winbourne Estate, Leeds, England (1858-1899)

Vicky grew up in the lap of luxury and with everything handled to her, dressing the best clothes and best tutors and education. At the age of eleven, she received a letter from Hogwarts and went there despite many of her family members’ oppositions, and she thrived there.

She lived her whole life there, and died there as well. Her bedchambers and goods were passed down to her daughter and heir. To this day, these chambers are used by Viscountess Diana, her greatx4granddaughter.

BACKSTORY:

Victoria Augusta Somerset was the daughter of William Somerset and Helene Greengrass. She grew up spoiled and as a Lady of the house, training to be the wife of a upstanding man of wealth and lands. All that changed when her Hogwarts letter came in her eleventh year and she went there against all opposition. In 1873, her father died whilst in negotiations to both his children’s marriage. Victoria was but fifteen at the time, while George was sixteen.

During that time, she courted fellow student Vincent Gray and fell in love with him. In 1876, George married Alina Mikelova, and they became close friends. Sadly, tragedy befell upon Winbourne in 1878 when George was killed in battle while Alina was pregnant. The baby was born dead and it was clear that, with no other Somerset males that could step up and marry Alina, Victoria became viscountess alongside her husband, Vincent, whom she had married the year before (1877). Sadly, the following year, she gave birth to a stillborn daughter. She was determined to have an heir, and in 1881, she gave birth to Primrose Sabrina Gray, whom, after many miscarriages throughout the decade of the 1880s, would become the heir. In 1890 she started her exquisite education before she entered Hogwarts as well, and she thrived there as she had done all those years ago.

She was a fair and loving viscountess, and it’d remain so until 1898, when she fell ill. In her last moments, she drew up a will where she allowed her daughter to retake her maiden’s name so the Somerset line still continued after her then 17 year-old daughter were to marry. She also begged for her engagement to be over by any means so she could marry for love. She passed away in August 1899, and her daughter would be the most powerful and rich viscountess of her time, and in the history of Winbourne.

MISC

Due to her upbringing, she knows how to read, recite poetry, modern and ancient languages, sew, play the piano, dance and sing.

During her stance in Hogwarts, she polished her skills with help and was able to develop some duelling skills, though she was more interested in history and charms

She was the one to uncover that her ancestor, Henriette of Wessex, had possessed magic but was erased from the history books by her successsors who had been born squibs

Challenging Victorian motherhood, which was cold and left to other people, Victoria raised Primrose herself, breastfed her and was close to her own child. If this hadn’t been the case, Primrose’s story would be different

She was some sort of mother fugure to Henry of Alderly ( @gaygryffindorgal ) and though often judged by them, she was well-liked by high society

She met the Queen in 1874 and again in 1880, and introduced Alina and Primrose to her when their time came, and was liked by the Princess of Wales, who was the future Queen Alexandra of Denmark. She didn’t live to see her crowned, or see her daughter become one of her favourites at her court.

She, like Henriette, challenged misogynstic views and hired a fencing tutor for Primrose. Little did she know that this skill would be critic for the history of Winbourne

She is the second most cried viscountess, after her daughter Primrose

#hp victorian era #side character #character profile #victoria somerset #hp legacy era #oc: primrose sabrina gray #vincent gray #victoria x vincent #somerset family

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19th century somerset brides portraits:

1875: viscountess alina's cheerful, handsome and charismatic self, alongside her gorgeous dress was just what winbourne needed after a tragic death.

1877: victoria's dress was one of the most ostentatious dresses, made by house of worth and showed the best years of the late victorian era.

1900: primrose showed herself as a traditional, modest bride with far less luxury but still oozing the power and influence she held throughout most of her years as the head of the house. hers, alongside the other two dresses were sold to the victoria & albert museum for more than 85k£ as well as a copy of how the brides looked. the original photos are proudly displayed in the main room of the estate.

#hphl #hogwarts legacy #oc: primrose sabrina gray #alina mikelova #victoria somerset #myedit*

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𝙊𝙡𝙮𝙢𝙥𝙞𝙖 𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙩

"𝙊𝙣𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙙𝙪𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙞𝙯𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙬𝙣."

BASICS

Name: Olympia Victoria Somerset

Birthday: 24th of December, 1838

Zodiac sign: Capricorn

Weight: 58kg

Height: 1.56m

Religion: Anglican

Eye colour: Hazel

Hair colour: Brown with red undertones

Faceclaim: Romy Schneider (especially in the Sissi Trilogy)

FAMILY

Mother: Augusta Sophia Somerset, neé Foredale

From a family of earls, she was beautiful and incredibly cunning, trained from a young age to be the perfect socialite and score the best husband possible, and my, many illustrious men courted her... Lord Somerset included.

She saw potential in him and the two swore to marry once the season was over, and they did, and fell in love along the way, especially after Olympia was born. The two of them share a special bond.

Father: Benedict George Somerset

Benedict is a quiet, shy but kind and warm man of few words and blushes easily. He always had a crush on the Lady Foredale, and when she started pursuing him, he was even more smitten now that the two of them actually interacted.

Though it was at first one-sided, Augusta grew to love him as well after their daughter Olympia was born. The two of them had a happy and loving marriage until 1868, when Benedict died of lung cancer, for he was a heavy smoker.

Other relatives: William George Somerset, older brother

Will and Olympia grew up close-knit, and he always regarded her opinion and help often since childhood. They were very close and rarely had secrets between them.

The moment Olympia knew that he was pursuing her lady’s maid, she hatched a plan for the lovebirds to be married and happy, for none of the ladies of the Season of 1856 were worthy of him: too arrogant and narrow-minded.

When her brother married Helene in secret, she was there as a witness and was a big help to convincing their mother to allow the marriage... for Helene was with child. She also promised to marry someone of rank in order to restore balance. And indeed, she succeeded.

Friends: TBD

Significant Other: Edward Josiah Barton, Duke of Burlingham

Olympia was very much Augusta’s daughter, and she proved her by successfully courting the duke of Burlingham, a handsome, tall, honest and incredibly wealthy man who was fourth cousin of the Prince of Wales and was descendant of George II. He fell head over the heels for her and she soon grew to love him in her own way, telling herself “one can fall for a duke like women in books fall for beggars.” and Edward proved to be a loving and warm husband. He never once mistreated her or even thought of having mistresses, having eyes only for his beloved Olympia. Together they had a son, Albert. Sadly, the birth had been so difficult, Olympia swore off having more children, and Edward was incredibly supportive. They lived a happy life until his death in 1885.

PERSONALITY

Overall personality: Cheerful, witty, smart and mishievous, Olympia loved a good time and is in love with life, and is truly optimistic, but has that haughtiness that many noble ladies possess, though she rarely has to show it.

Positive traits: Cheerful, witty, optimistic

Negative traits: Mischivieous, haughty and proud

Guilty pleasure: Spanish wine

HOMETOWN

Winbourne Estate, Leeds, England (1838-1857)

Olympia grew up lacking nothing and asking for nothing, and was close with her brother William, enough to be her witness on his secret wedding to Helene Greengrass. They remained tight-knit until his death in 1873

Duchy of Burlingham, York, England (1857-1904)

Her new home was full of rules and protocol, and though she didn’t like it much, she did her best to adapt and make of this enormous castle her house, and she succeeded.

BACKSTORY

Olympia Victoria Somerset was born on the 24th of December, 1838, of Benedict and Augusta Somerset. She had an older brother, William, whom she was close to and she even aided him in marrying her lady’s maid, Helene Greengrass. She was clueless of her background until her niece Victoria was born.

In 1857, after the marriage of William, in order to keep them married, Olympia promised her ambitious mother to marry someone of rank instead, and she met during that Season Edward Barton, Duke of Burlingham. The two hit it off and married that summer.

And the rest, is history

MISC

Olympia is one of the best educated ladies in Winbourne, with full knowledge of history, courtly manners, the ancient and modern languages, court dances, reciting poetry, horse-riding, fan language, embroidering, lettering and painting

She’s the godmother of Victoria, and she adored her daughter Primrose, always spoiling her rotten, as she had done with her niece

She liked to read Roman comedy and was soon aware of politics and activism, which scandalised the court

She lived to see Primrose’s victory against Buckingham and to stop her grandson George from stealing away the estate from Primrose, which caused estrangement between grandson and grandmother

She also loves singing and liked to sing to her relatives when they were sick

She was the one to commission a portrait of Victoria a year before she died with Primrose

She also taught Primrose the habit to keep a detailed diary

She even proposed for Primrose to marry George, and even set up a dinner when they were eight, but failed drastically, for George was a git

She liked to play the piano and the harp during gatherings, which made her popular among the court, and once played for the Prince of Wales

#hp victorian era #olympia somerset #victoria somerset #oc: primrose sabrina gray #edward barton #side characters #somerset family #oc profile

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my skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel

#hp victorian era #alina mikelova #victoria somerset #oc: primrose sabrina gray #mygifset*#mine*#mine

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𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬𝑻 𝑩𝑹𝑰𝑫𝑬𝑺 ⁎✦✯

Alina Mikelova, m. George Somerset IV, 1876

Victoria Somerset, m. Vincent Gray, 1877

Primrose Gray, m. Lord Stolberg-Burke, 1900

tagging @gaygryffindorgal who owns Mal

#hogwarts legacy #hphl #oc: primrose sabrina gray #harry potter: hogwarts legacy #victoria gray #victoria somerset #alina mikelova #vincent gray #george somerset #alina x george #victoria x vincent #primrose x malcolm #georlina #grayset #grayburke #mygifset*#mine

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𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 + 𝒇𝒂𝒗 𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒚𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒄𝒔

Victoria Somerset + Alina Mikelovna (sisters in law)

Alexandra Fersen (neé Somerset) + Vincent Somerset

Philip Somerset ( @camillejeaneshphm ) + Gia Somerset II

Charles Somerset + Taty Somerset

#the somerset family #hogwarts legacy #fbawtft #riddle era #marauder's era #golden era #victoria somerset #alina mikelovna #oc: vincent somerset #alexandra somerset #philip somerset #gia somerset ii #charles somerset #tatiana somerset

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viscountesses of winbourne + their successors

alina mikelova married george somerset on 1875, and the moment they were pronounced man and wife, they became the viscount and viscountess of winbourne. however, this didn't last long, for 1878 her husband died and she failed to birth an heir, making thus victoria, george's sister, her new successor.

victoria did have many pregnancies, but only one would give her her new successor: her daughter and only living child, primrose gray, the third woman in the family to become viscountess in her own right after her mother. in 1899, victoria died after twenty-one years as viscountess.

in 1900, primrose became viscountess after mourning her mother and soon became the most powerful and influential woman of winbourne and england itself. despite her successor coming into her life when she married her only son, she was influential and still treated as the true viscountess until her death in 1968.

despite having met in 1927, margaret did not become the viscountess fully until primrose stepped down in 1946, a year after wwii. margaret thus became the second most powerful woman in the estate and was educated by the viscountess herself.

in 1958, margaret's son lawrence married the beautiful but cunning and wise millicent abbott, from a small but wealthy sacred twenty-eight wizarding families. because primrose was still viscountess mother and margaret was the lady, she was known as mrs. somerset. ten years later she'd succeed as lady of winbourne as margaret and vincent became viscount and viscountess by law, though due to their age, millicent took often many exhausting activities from her mother-in-law's hands

in 1970, millie's only son fell for a turkish woman called ismene. millicent was reluctant and called to interrogate the girl, to discover a clueless girl who didn't know what she was getting into. she was, however, charmed by her kindness, cultured and erudited mind and gladly took her under her wing, teaching her the ways of winbourne.

in 1994, ismene convinced her husband to allow their only child, valentina, to take the reins and become a full viscountess. she dreamt of becoming like primrose, although she committed many mistakes and couldn't quite reach her power. she nevertheless was a good and generous viscountess and well-loved by the people.

and in 2018, valentina gave the reins of power to her eldest daughter diana, who gladly took them and has so far honoured her labour and those before her, being more like primrose unbeknownst to herself. she is the current viscountess and remains single and unmarried, and has no intention of marrying just yet, despite being 25 years-old...

tagging @camillejeaneshphm since margaret belongs to her

#hp victorian era #fbawtft #riddle era #marauder's era #hphm #magic awakened #oc: primrose sabrina gray #margaret taylor #millicent abbott #ismene fazilet #oc: valentina somerset #oc: diana somerset #alina mikelova #victoria somerset

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#hogwarts legacy #hphl #oc: primrose sabrina gray #victoria somerset #alina mikelova #oc: henriette of wessex #oc: vincent somerset #oc: lawrence somerset #oc: valentina somerset #oc: diana somerset

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Primrose Gray’s Legacy, Act One: The Younger Years, Chapter Four: The Arrangement

A/N: Finals are finally over and holidays are over the horizon, so this series will get my undivided attention. Expect more of this series after the long radio silence!

Summary: Primrose’s life takes a drastic change that will mark her youth

OCs featured: William Devlin ( @unfortunate-arrow ) Henry of Alderly ( @gaygryffindorgal ) and his family

OCs mentioned: The Stolberg-Burkes (also Gryff) the Coventries and the Hastings ( @camillejeaneshphm ) the Aldens ( @cursed-herbalist )

Warnings: A bit of classism of the era

Word Count: 2.2k

Taglist: @gaygryffindorgal @nicos-oc-hell @slytherindisaster @camillejeaneshphm @hphmmatthewluther @thatravenpuffwitch let me know if you want me to either add you or remove you!!

1889

Vincent Gray had been invited to a gentlemen-only soiree, and wanting to escape the women’s scheming, he was gladdened to accept. It seemed like finally he was being accepted in high society by his fellow male peers, a bit tired of ambitious mamas.

Especially he was escaping his wife’s machinations. He could still recall their argument later in the morrow.

“Why can’t you see how advantageous this match could be?!” She shouted “Our daughter would be protected and no one would doubt her claim! Maria Elisabeth married a duke herself.”

“Yes, and that duke ruled her and Winbourne! Just like Frederick was the one taken into account while Henriette remained in the shadows.”

Victoria looked at him “What do you have against the Alderlies, exactly?”

“They are Hanoverians, Vicky!” He cried out “You know what happens to their wives! Everybody does!”

“Are you implying that Henry is not enough husband for our girl?”

“Henry’s a good lad. I’m more worried about his parents and close peers. And the fact that they’d likely swallow the estate into theirs and centuries of work would go to the seven hells!”

Victoria raised her hands “What do you suggest, then? Anyone in mind?”

“Yes. Someone who doesn’t have ties or a title to tend. Someone who will not stand in the way of her claim. Perhaps in the Wizarding World.”

Victoria turned back at him and slowly came close to him “I am the viscountess here, and our daughter will marry whom I say, end of the discussion.”

Vincent sighed, rubbing his temples. Then, suddenly, a thump woke him from his trance and saw a rather tipsy Lord Carlisle greeting him “Ah, Lord Vincent, what a surprise!”

“My lord. What brings you here?”

“Well, I’ve heard that you are looking for a groom for your girl. I have a ward her age. Shy, likes drawing and quiet. His name is William.”

Vincent’s eyebrows shot up in amusement “Are you proposing your… ward for my girl?”

He nodded, gulping another drink “You see, I’ve heard, and correct me if I’m wrong, that you wish for your daughter to marry someone who won’t stand in the way of her claim. The boy has no noble ties, no title or a name to tend to. I’m happy to educate him to be her shadow and know his place as her future husband.”

“People will talk.” Vincent remarked.

“And will you listen to what they say, my lord? It could be an advantageous match…”

Vincent observed the man for a minute, taking in everything he said. The rumours were everywhere that he was the boy’s father, and it’d cause some trouble for Primrose, but perhaps, if they were engaged, the people wouldn’t doubt him as much.

“Lord Paul, how about if you come see me this Tuesday at four o’clock so we can discuss this properly?”

He smiled, shaking his hand “I’ll be there.”

“Let us hope you remember.” He joked.

For the next months, Paul and Vincent discussed back-and-forth how their engagement would work.

“…Of course, Primrose will be the head of the house.”

“…It’ll be wise that they have separate bank accounts.”

“…Won’t have any obligations until they’re introduced in society.”

“…Eighteen would be a good age for him to propose.”

“…Must learn in the meantime the history of the Somersets.”

“…In exchange for her hand I can give you…”

Right a few weeks before the boy’s ninth birthday, they had already settled a contract and would meet to sign it properly, everything planned and agreed. But secretly, he had been in the lookout for any other bachelor who’d pop up.

On Victoria’s point of view, not only the Alderlies had proposed their son, the Coventries and the Aldens had proposed their respective sons. Victoria had rejected the second, for he was a bit old for her tastes and had heard that he had already picked his future bride. When the scandal of the only Coventry boy and heir being homosexual came out, Victoria wrote to them rejecting their prospect.

Another families had stepped up, offering their sons that were her age. Vincent had investigated the Greek boy, Adonis, and Victoria had liked the di Napoli boy, Ernest, if she recalled correctly. But Ernest’s family was problematic and the Greek boy didn’t have the qualities he looked for a groom in his daughter, so they were rejected as well.

In the end, he was where he started: with the Devlin boy as the final prospect. Legitimacy controversies aside, they were a good match: he was just as intelligent, knowing French as well, a capital student and in the way of becoming a sportsman. It was definitely better this way, with someone unimportant in the eyes of society so he wouldn’t outshine his girl, the important piece in the chess.

Soon, Paul called proposing a dinner at his estate to see if they’d match after their speculations and also have a celebration for their ninth birthdays, since they were very close in age. He was quick to accept and told Victoria of his intrigues. The response was a Romanian vase being thrown to his head, which he hardly missed.

“YOU ENGAGED MY DAUGHTER TO A BASTARD?! WITHOUT CONSULTING ME?!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. He had never heard her scream like that ever since last year, when she had miscarried their last child.

“I know how it seems, but we must see the bigger picture here—,”

“Oh, and what would that be?!”

“He is a good boy! A good student, intelligent, with no ambition or ties to any sort of state or title, the perfect husband that won’t outshine the important person here: Prim!”

“I don’t see why she shouldn’t marry someone of rank! Or with an actual fortune! Last night the Stolberg-Burkes called. They consider their son a worthy groom of our daughter, and so do I! And it’s never too late for Henry!”

“Please, give the Devlin boy a chance.”

Victoria scoffed “You’ve made your decision. Go on, tell me what the hell have you plotted now.”

He looked down, ready for the shouting “We have signed a contract. We only need your signature.”

Silence. Then, ruffling movement of skirts. Then, another vase was thrown, and he had to duck this time “Victoria, enough!” He cried.

“YOU SIGNED A CONTRACT WITHOUT MY KNOWLEDGE?! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO DO ANYTHING WITH MY HEIR WITHOUT ME?!”

“YOUR HEIR?!”

“YES!” She yelled “MY HEIR, MY HOUSE, MY BLOODLINE.”

He nodded, anger and bitterness building up “And I am just the lucky sperm-man who gave you what you needed to continue it, am I not?”

Victoria realised what she had said, and started to try form a sentence. He didn’t give her a chance. He instead left, slamming the door close. He didn’t hear Victoria’s sobs, but could tell that he’d be sleeping in the guest room.

8th of July, 1889

Victoria had dressed in the Somerset blue and black, while Vincent had dressed the Slytherin green and both seemed distant to one another. Many children had been invited to their joint birthday party. Primrose, thankfully, was a good girl and was happy to share her birthday bash with someone else and make a new friend. They were now speaking to one another in French, and while weary of her presence, he seemed to like her well enough. Primrose, was, of course, intrigued by him and why the sudden interest on a minor noble family. Henry was quick to snatch her to play, and invited William along.

They ran off to the gardens, which weren’t as grand as the ones in Winbourne, but still nice to look at. Lord Paul was, of course, trying to win over Victoria, showering her with compliments and the sort of flattery, but Victoria was as cold as the Antarctica itself, offering cold and calculated smiles and dry ‘thank you’. She glared to her husband from time to time, muttering things about the decoration of choice and how one could tell that the place lacked a woman to take care of things properly.

“I’d be much obliged to tell you all about the bachelorettes who are in the lookout for a… humble husband like yourself, my lord.” She smiled, clearly trying to get a raise out of him, but it seemed that Vincent had warned him. He smiled tightly, raising his glass.

Louise leaned and whispered something about a portrait of the late viscount and Victoria laughed coldly. She looked back at the garden, where Georgia helped Primrose up and observed a quiet William drifting away. She wondered why wasn’t he following probable orders to impress the girl.

“Vicky, dear, have I ever told you about my nephew Caspian Hastings? He is available, a future marquess to the Hastings line and very much a bachelor…”

Primrose had decided to follow the Devlin boy into a hayloft and observed he was drawing something under his shirt, focused on it.

“What are you drawing?” She asked.

The boy looked up and cleared his throat, raising a bit his sketchbook “Nothing. Aimlessly drawing.”

Primrose showed her hands “I understand if you don’t want to show. I know we’ve been introduced, but with all that noise… I’m Lady Primrose Gray of Winbourne.” She extended her hand.

“William Devlin.” He shook her hand.

She sat in front of him, a respectful distance between them “It seems like our fathers wanted us to meet. Do you think he’s fishing for allies?”

“He is… that is, he is not my father, he is my guardian.”

“…Of course, my apologies. What are your theories on this whole soiree?”

1892

There had been several events, and Primrose had seen for herself some suitors from her mother, and had done her best to impress everyone with her piano and harp skills, which she had practised. According to Bea, men were inclined to women who had a good sense of music and who looked pristine and put-together, so she always chose sensible colours for her presentation. The Devlin boy had been invited, but he was not present. Probably sketching somewhere.

Someone went to fetch him. Her father was going to make an announcement. Primrose looked at Henry, and he looked at her too. Perhaps they’ve finally reached an agreement? Everyone looked at her father expectantly, a choking silence filling the room.

“As you know, my wife and I have been looking for a suitable groom for our little treasure, and we like to think we’ve found the perfect man for it. Hence, I have decided to announced the engagement of my daughter, the Lady Primrose… to William Devlin, Lord Carlisle’s ward.”

Her mother said nothing, perhaps bracing herself for something.

“I’m sorry?!” Duchess Louise cried.

“This is outrageous! Victoria, you told us that we were your first priority!” Duke Thomas argued. Henry just sank in his seat.

“Hah! I can think of better men here than that—,”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Primrose cried. William, who had been trying to withdraw, had been seized by Primrose’s hand, and she looked defiantly at the adults. She was playing a big gamble, but William did not deserve this “It was my choice,” she declared “my father presented me with all of the candidates and I chose Mr. Devlin. I chose him, not my parents. I understand your anger, but I will not allow you to insult my bridegroom.” She lifted her chin, and William looked at her, bewildered. Everyone sat down, and she swore the duke downed his glass. “From now on, you will speak to him with respect, for my sake and Winbourne’s.”

Henry stood up and lifted his glass “To Lady Primrose and Mr. Devlin, then.” The other candidates soon followed.

As they began whispering, William finally left, taking the chance that her grip had nearly vanished and Primrose followed. She chased him to the gardens. He noticed her and turned around “Why did you do it?”

“They were insulting you, sir. I couldn’t allow it. The choice is made. We will marry when we are older, and it is our duty to look out for the other.”

Something in his face flickered, and his shoulders softened “Thank you. I don’t think anybody has defended me that way before.”

Primrose smiled tightly, and nodded “I will leave you to your own thoughts. You know where to find me.”

Primrose walked to her room, already retiring to bed, when she found her mother there. She looked like she had aged a thousand years. She motioned her to sit with her “What you did today was brave. Not many would’ve defended a boy like him with such fierceness and bravery. But we can put an end to this if you wish. The Stolberg-Burke’s offer still stands…”

“No. I want it to leave it the way Papa has done. Besides, I think that I can finally do something good with my title. I think that his tie to me protects him from rumours.”

Victoria smiled widely and kissed her head soundly “When did my girl become so benevolent and wise?”

Primrose leaned on her mother and didn’t hear Victoria mutter “I will find a way out of this farce. You will marry for love, even if it’s the last thing I achieve, so help me God.”

#hp victorian era #hp fanfiction #primrose gray's legacy #pgl book one #the younger years #oc: primrose sabrina gray #vincent gray #victoria gray #william devlin #henry of alderly #mywriting*

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