Drabble for Elle
Title: Regrets
Rating: G
Possible spoilers/warnings: None
Summary: There were many things Stephen regretted, and watching her across the table brought them all swimming to the forefront of his thoughts.
Notes:
elle_blessing requested Stephen Cornfoot and Astoria Greengrass, two characters we play at pinksheep_wench. As both the Cornfoot and Greengrass familiy estates are located on the Isle of Wight (Carisbrooke and Willowcourt, respectively), this is my take on how these two characters might interact.
Stephen loathed coming back home for any reason, whether it be a holiday, family dinner, or answering his father's summons. His parents had never approved of him or the company he kept; Elena Cornfoot had, on one occasion, even remarked that she'd wished he'd never been born.
It was no secret why he stayed away as much as possible.
On an evening such as this, though, he felt called back to Carisbrooke , its sloping lawns perched high above the English Channel. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about the day, no special occasion to celebrate, except for one minor detail: it was the first time since he'd been 'summoned' home from Australia that the Greengrasses were over. Another old Pureblood family like the Cornfoots, they lived on the Isle and circulated through the same social groups. Lilian Greengrass (née Corner) had even sent her two children, Michael and Astoria to the same primary school as Stephen.
Michael had been mysteriously absent from dinner- a not altogether surprising fact given the quiet man's penchant for wanderings and other sorts of prowlings- and Astoria had been quiet, even more so than usual. Stephen's eyes had been drawn to her during dinner. The dark-haired little pixie had grown into a beautiful woman while he'd been away. He regretted that he'd not been there to see it for himself. A petite fourteen year-old school girl when he'd left, Astoria was now a grown woman, finished with Hogwarts and two months past her eighteenth birthday.
There were many things Stephen regretted, and watching her across the table brought them all swimming to the forefront of his thoughts.
After dinner had been adjourned and their parents had retired- the men to the study for cigars and brandy, the women to his mother's parlor- Astoria had quietly slipped from the house out one of the back entrances. She'd left her heels on the back terrace and strode, feet bare, across the plush grass to the edge of the gardens, which overlooked the waves crashing into the cliff.
Without another thought, Stephen followed her. There were things he wanted to say, things that needed to be said, but he had no idea where to start.
"What do you want, Stephen?" Astoria asked as soon as she head footsteps coming up behind her. She didn't need to turn around to verify who it was; call it instinct, but she knew that it was him who'd followed her.
"Well, Rory, if you must know, a trip to Bali," he answered, coming to stand beside her. Not that that particular wish would be forthcoming; his father had restricted him to the British Isles for the time being with the warning that his accounts would be frozen were he to leave. Until he got a job independent of his family, he was stuck.
"Why, so you can leave for another three years with nary an owl?" she remarked lightly, only the tiniest hint of hurt underlining her words. Stephen had been a childhood playmate, a close friend and even after he'd gone off to Hogwarts, they'd maintained a close friendship that had held strong despite her taking residence in the snake's den. It'd hurt to say goodbye to him when he'd left for Australia, but his silence upon arrival had hurt even worse.
"I owled," he protested lightly, turning his head to look down at her.
"Three times," she said. "One owl a year, on my birthday. Other than that, there was nothing but silence. You promised, Stephen."
He sighed, the look in her eyes cutting him through his heart like the sharpest of blades. "I know I did."
"Then why didn't you?" Astoria snapped, brown eyes blazing with pent up emotion. "Why did you go back on your word to keep in touch?"
"I don't really have a good answer for you," he said honestly. He'd meant to owl Rory, he really had, but he'd gotten so caught up in the glamorous life his cousins led that he'd kept putting it off until days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years.
Astoria pursed her lips and turned her gaze back to the sea so he couldn't see the tears pooling in her eyes. She knew why he hadn't owled: he'd been too caught up in the exciting world of drugs, alcohol and sex that he'd forgotten about her. The sight of her watery eyes hurt him more than the worst curse ever could.
"I'll go," he said, quietly.
"I think that's probably best," she answered, her voice soft so he wouldn't hear the fine tremble in it.
Nodding, he turned and began to make his way back towards the house. He'd only taken a few steps, though, before he paused and turned back. "For what it's worth," he said softly, just loud enough for her to hear, "I'm sorry for everything." Not waiting for a response- he knew she'd heard him- he turned back towards the gardens and walked away.
Rating: G
Possible spoilers/warnings: None
Summary: There were many things Stephen regretted, and watching her across the table brought them all swimming to the forefront of his thoughts.
Notes:
elle_blessing requested Stephen Cornfoot and Astoria Greengrass, two characters we play at pinksheep_wench. As both the Cornfoot and Greengrass familiy estates are located on the Isle of Wight (Carisbrooke and Willowcourt, respectively), this is my take on how these two characters might interact.
Stephen loathed coming back home for any reason, whether it be a holiday, family dinner, or answering his father's summons. His parents had never approved of him or the company he kept; Elena Cornfoot had, on one occasion, even remarked that she'd wished he'd never been born.
It was no secret why he stayed away as much as possible.
On an evening such as this, though, he felt called back to Carisbrooke , its sloping lawns perched high above the English Channel. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about the day, no special occasion to celebrate, except for one minor detail: it was the first time since he'd been 'summoned' home from Australia that the Greengrasses were over. Another old Pureblood family like the Cornfoots, they lived on the Isle and circulated through the same social groups. Lilian Greengrass (née Corner) had even sent her two children, Michael and Astoria to the same primary school as Stephen.
Michael had been mysteriously absent from dinner- a not altogether surprising fact given the quiet man's penchant for wanderings and other sorts of prowlings- and Astoria had been quiet, even more so than usual. Stephen's eyes had been drawn to her during dinner. The dark-haired little pixie had grown into a beautiful woman while he'd been away. He regretted that he'd not been there to see it for himself. A petite fourteen year-old school girl when he'd left, Astoria was now a grown woman, finished with Hogwarts and two months past her eighteenth birthday.
There were many things Stephen regretted, and watching her across the table brought them all swimming to the forefront of his thoughts.
After dinner had been adjourned and their parents had retired- the men to the study for cigars and brandy, the women to his mother's parlor- Astoria had quietly slipped from the house out one of the back entrances. She'd left her heels on the back terrace and strode, feet bare, across the plush grass to the edge of the gardens, which overlooked the waves crashing into the cliff.
Without another thought, Stephen followed her. There were things he wanted to say, things that needed to be said, but he had no idea where to start.
"What do you want, Stephen?" Astoria asked as soon as she head footsteps coming up behind her. She didn't need to turn around to verify who it was; call it instinct, but she knew that it was him who'd followed her.
"Well, Rory, if you must know, a trip to Bali," he answered, coming to stand beside her. Not that that particular wish would be forthcoming; his father had restricted him to the British Isles for the time being with the warning that his accounts would be frozen were he to leave. Until he got a job independent of his family, he was stuck.
"Why, so you can leave for another three years with nary an owl?" she remarked lightly, only the tiniest hint of hurt underlining her words. Stephen had been a childhood playmate, a close friend and even after he'd gone off to Hogwarts, they'd maintained a close friendship that had held strong despite her taking residence in the snake's den. It'd hurt to say goodbye to him when he'd left for Australia, but his silence upon arrival had hurt even worse.
"I owled," he protested lightly, turning his head to look down at her.
"Three times," she said. "One owl a year, on my birthday. Other than that, there was nothing but silence. You promised, Stephen."
He sighed, the look in her eyes cutting him through his heart like the sharpest of blades. "I know I did."
"Then why didn't you?" Astoria snapped, brown eyes blazing with pent up emotion. "Why did you go back on your word to keep in touch?"
"I don't really have a good answer for you," he said honestly. He'd meant to owl Rory, he really had, but he'd gotten so caught up in the glamorous life his cousins led that he'd kept putting it off until days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years.
Astoria pursed her lips and turned her gaze back to the sea so he couldn't see the tears pooling in her eyes. She knew why he hadn't owled: he'd been too caught up in the exciting world of drugs, alcohol and sex that he'd forgotten about her. The sight of her watery eyes hurt him more than the worst curse ever could.
"I'll go," he said, quietly.
"I think that's probably best," she answered, her voice soft so he wouldn't hear the fine tremble in it.
Nodding, he turned and began to make his way back towards the house. He'd only taken a few steps, though, before he paused and turned back. "For what it's worth," he said softly, just loud enough for her to hear, "I'm sorry for everything." Not waiting for a response- he knew she'd heard him- he turned back towards the gardens and walked away.