|War Romance (Evan/Wilkes)
||[Jul. 21st, 2013|04:09 am]
Title: War Romance
Pairing: Evan Rosier/Alena Wilkes
Warnings: language, mature themes
Word Count: 3,405
Summary: Fighting a war together can bring people closer than they initially thought possible.
Notes: Written for the deatheaterfest for a fem!Wilkes prompt.
Angelus Wilkes presented Evan with his sister in such a formal fashion as though the two had never met rather than being classmates at Hogwarts for the past five years. It was at her coming out ball and Evan, who was more interested at the moment in discussing battle strategies with Avery and Snape than dancing and flirting, wasn’t sure how to best tell Angelus to screw off without offending the star of the evening.
Not that Alena Wilkes wasn’t a beautiful girl. She was, with her fire-tinged blonde hair and fair complexion, soft grey eyes and gently sloping shoulder, quite lovely. At school, Evan had considered her something of a friend. They studied for exams together sometimes and she helped him with charms while he slipped her lists of books on Old Magic with which they had all been instructed to familiarize themselves while in training for the Lord. But Evan preferred the champaign and strategy talk of his friends to a quadrille.
As it was, Angelus managed to bully him into a dance with all the polite determination of someone accustomed to getting his way. Those heirs had a manner like that. Evan had an older brother, so his manner from childhood had been that of a secondary sort, as was proper for a younger son.
“At school you are very fond of me. Here you would do anything to get away from me it seems,” Alena teased him as he led her out to dance.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re my friend, why would I avoid you?”
“You only offered to dance out of propriety. And I can name at least one good reason.”
He waited for her to turn the corner and face him again before asking, somewhere between amused and annoyed, “Like what?”
“Like that I am now of marriageable age and your parents, now that your brother is married, will certainly start demanding a name from you.”
Evan could tell that he was blushing. Really, he was no good with girls. It had never been in his area of interest, aside from the occasional inappropriate night-time fantasies of any pubescent male. He really wished she hadn’t brought that up. Now, all Evan could see was Alena in a white dress, being shuffled down the aisle in a hastily thrown together war wedding. “You’re not the only Pureblood girl of marriageable age,” Evan protested, feeling more than disconcerted.
“Oh, luckily for me, I’m sure. I have no intention of getting married.”
“She is what?”
“Joining the Dark Lord’s ranks.” Angelus did not look pleased. “I was rather hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but Alena is seventeen now and Mr. Greengrass and Mr. Dolohov have said it would not be of issue. I was rather hoping it wouldn’t come to this.”
So was this why, for the past seven months, Angelus had been pushing Alena into the arms of every Pureblood man of marriageable age? Evan had just been his first. Was this what Alena had meant back in April when she had said she had not intention of getting married? “As what is she joining? A mediwitch? A brewer?”
Angelus scoffed. “I want to fight!” he mimicked in a strained, high pitched voice. “It’s a disaster.”
Evan shrugged. He should have been appalled, but all he could think of was Alena on a broom playing quidditch with them into the late afternoon. She could fly circles around everyone except for, perhaps, Regulus. “We need good flyers,” Evan mumbled for no reason.
“I heard Mr. Dolohov say so: we need good flyers. Alena’s good.” Angelus gave him a frustrated look and Evan felt how off what he had said was. “Bellatrix Lestrange is a woman and she fights,” Evan blurted out but instantly regretted that sentiment.
“Bellatrix Lestrange is also rumored to be a whore,” Angelus sneered. “It’s a disgrace.”
Evan bit his lip. “Yes, yes, of course. I didn’t mean to imply…” The fact still stood that they were in need of good flyers.
In a standard issue, black mission cloak, with her hair pulled up into a tight bun and no make up, Alena looked a lot like her brother. She had a firm grip on her broom with one hand and an even tighter one on her wand in the other. As Evan passed her, he tried to smile his encouragement but she only scowled at him.
“Is she still upset about not being in the Young Guard?” he asked Angelus.
“They’ve put her in the rear. She says we’re discriminating because she’s a woman. Damn right we are. It’s bad enough that she’s here in the first place.”
Evan didn’t know if he really agreed with that sentiment. It seemed petty to waist manpower like that. He had watched her practice the flying drills, fascinated by how exquisite she looked up on a broom. It was different than at the parties where she blended in with all the other girls in their frilly dresses and bows or at school where boys and girls were mostly divided by unspoken social conventions and separate friendship groups and when they did something together it was always of a boring, sexless sort, like homework.
But on the training polygons, up in the air, after training, with her hair falling out of its bun and her cheeks flushed a pretty, fresh pink, Evan saw something he had never seen before in Alena Wilkes. She was so familiar and strangely exciting in all those moments that he held his breath and thought that maybe, just maybe, he should be ashamed of what he was feeling. Or scared of it.
I have no intention of getting married. Alena’s words kept running through Evan’s head but he didn’t know why. He wasn’t planning on getting married either. Certainly not to her. Certainly not…
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Evan hissed, trying to see through the fog and rain as he and Alena crouched behind what was left of a cottage wall. It used to belong to a branch of the Brown family, but now all that was left of both was ruins. Of course, the bloody Order had somehow been informed in time to come and stage an interference. They were too late to save anyone or anything, but not late enough to split their raid group in half. Most of the group had managed to apparate but the other half got trapped behind the anti-appirition field. The Young Guard had a portkey per pair but Evan was the only Young Guard member left among the five of them. They were split three to two and Evan had managed to toss his portkey to Sawyer so he could get the larger group away, thus leaving him and Alena to hide behind the ward-enforced remains of the cabin. The wards were skimpy, hastily made when they realized they were trapped. There were six Order members at least and they would soon make short work of their wards. Aurors were probably on the way at that very moment and Evan did not know if and when their side would send reinforcements.
“Do you have a better idea? We need to get out of here. If the Aurors get here before they send a group for us, we’re finished.” She looked over at him and held his gaze.
“You’re not marked. You can still lie and say you were forced.”
“But you are.” The wind blew through her damp hair, making some of the thinner wisps flip onto her face and plaster themselves to her cheeks. She looked amazingly beautiful in that moment and Evan did not know if that was concern for him in her eyes, but he did not dare to dream. Not when they were in such dire danger.
“Alright. I still think this is crazy but…”
Alena began to undo the buttons on her cloak. “Transfigure something into a dagger while I do this.”
Evan scanned the ground for something that would lend itself to the transformation easily. He found a large splinter of wood and cast the spell. It took a couple of tries to produce a sharp-looking blade. When he turned back, Alena was out of her clock, blouse, and trousers. When she reached to unbuckle her bra, Evan instinctively looked away. “Is that…do you have to do that?”
She glared at him, even as her cheeks flushed red. “Yes.”
A moment later, Evan burst out of their barricade holding a completely naked Alena in front of him as a shield with the transformed dagger against her throat, his wand clutched in his free hand even as he pressed it against her abdomen. Her wand was hidden up his sleeve within easy reach. Their sudden appearance, Alena’s nudity and their strange position gave the Order rats enough pause for Evan to shout out, “Hold your fire! Unless you want to kill one of your whores.”
“She’s not one of us!” someone called back, but someone in charge must have given the sign to hold fire. Evan surveyed their line. In his line of vision he could make out one of the Prewett brats on one side, Longbotton directly in front of him and that little wife of his on the other side. The other three must be at their back. Alena was shaking in his arms but Evan could not tell if she was simply shivering from the cold, from fear or acting. “She’s Wilkes’ sister. She was here with you!”
“Please, help me!” Alena cried out in a pitiful voice. “Please!”
“Do you want to hear her pitiful story?” Evan sneered.
“Kill them!” came a shout from the back.
“No, let the girl talk,” Longbotton said loudly. So he was in charge here. Good. Longbotton was an oaf and a bleeding heart. “What’s going on?”
“Tell them, bitch,” Evan said, loud enough for the Order members to hear.
“I…my family wanted to marry me off to this old…to this man. I didn’t want to so they threatened me. I…loved someone else…a…a muggle boy. They wanted to disown me but the Dark Lord found out and…and…” Alena started crying and Evan marveled at how real her tears seemed. “He said I had to pay for my shame.”
“You love a muggle? Where would you even meet one!” the Prewett boy asked, sounding suspicious.
“She snuck out to do a little dirty muggle dancing, didn’t you, bitch?” Evan said, giving her a little shake.
Alena continued to cry. “They made me serve as a…a battlefield wife for the men. They put a slavery blood spell on me so I couldn’t run away…and…oh, Merlin, please help me!” Alena had to shout to be heard at the distance and her voice kept breaking pitifully. Longbotton looked uncomfortable but Evan could just feel Prewett devouring Alena with his eyes and he wanted to curse the bastard right there on the spot.
“What’s a battlefield wife?” Longbottom’s wife piped up.
“A whore,” Evan answered, putting on the nastiest smirk he could. “She had to lie under every man who would have her after missions. It was her punishment for the Wilkes’ shame. She was already a whore, nothing changed.”
Prewett still seemed doubtful but Longbottom’s wife just looked appalled. Longbottom himself seemed uncertain of what to do. Finally, he asked. “Why are you handing her over now?”
“We’ve run out of use for her. No one wants the same whore more than once. We’d kill her ourselves but, well, I can give her to you if you let me go. You can chose to attack me, but I’ll have time to slit her throat. Trust me.”
Longbotten chewed on his lip. “We have to save her Frank,” his wife piped up even as Alena continued to shake and whimper. To make them decide faster, Evan reached up and pinched her breast. Alena cried louder. He would have to apologize to her for that later, but it did seem to help.
“Fine. Give us the girl, we’ll let you go.”
“Shut up, Fabian. You have my word, Rosier. The word of a Pureblood.”
“Does that still mean something to you?” Evan mocked.
“You’re just gonna have to trust me,” Longbottom said glumly.
“Make your team put their wands on the ground. You can keep yours up.”
Longbottom looked nervous about this – and rightfully so – but finally gave the order and Evan saw Prewett and Mrs. Longbottom put their wands on the ground. He had to assume the rest did the same. With a cocky sneer but feeling his heart beat faster and faster, Evan came forward with Alena, the dagger still at her throat.
The rest happened in a blur. Longbottom was determinately looking at Alena’s face, embarrassed by her nudity, so he didn’t see Evan slip Alena her wand. Someone else must have seen because there was a cry of warning. Alena cast a stunner at Longbottom and Evan pivoted to throw a curse at Prewett, who was closest and already half-way to his wand. Then they ran as fast as they could, ducking behind trees as the Order members shot curses after them. “We’re out of range!” Evan yelled when he felt the air lighten. He grabbed Alena’s hand and they apparated.
Evan landed on both feet, stumbling a single step forward as Alena’s weight descended beside him. They were a few feet away from the Headquarters perimeter. He looked over at her and licked his lips, trying to not rake his eyes over her body. She was still shaking, wiping the fake tears away from her face. Evan took her hand and led her behind some large bushes so they would be out of immediate sight of the patrol. “Alright?”
“We need to make our report and say we’re alright.” He slipped off his clock and put it over her shoulders. She grabbed at it frantically and bundled herself up so that as little skin was showing as possible. It wasn’t raining here but the clouds hung low and the air was damp. “It’ll have to do for now,” Evan muttered, stating the obvious.
She nodded and looked up at him. “Thanks, Ev.” He hugged her instinctively and she pressed her face into his neck for a moment before looking up into his face.
“I guess that ruined any chance of me ever being a spy.”
Evan laughed hoarsely, feeling the adrenaline slowly leaving his body. He cupped her face and she allowed her lips to part. He watched her, studied her eyes, the lines of her cheekbones…
“Just do it, Rosier.”
Alena tasted like smoke and salty rainwater when he kissed her, a tangy, almost-bitter taste but Evan knew he would never get enough of it.
Theirs wasn’t a courtship. That would have been too boring and average for both of them. It was a wild, frantic affair, hidden away so that their parents wouldn’t try to force marriage on them. Evan thought that might be the endgame anyway, the honorable thing to do. But not now. After the war was over, after they’d won and everything went back to the way it was supposed to be, then they would worry about marriage.
It was half the fun, the stolen kisses and midnight escapades. Evan had always loved Alena’s freedom and there was nothing freer than moonlight broom flights and secret, frantic kisses among the rose hedges in the dark.
As the days got darker, that love was the one thing that felt bright and alive and real. After all, it was easier to live for a meeting just a few hours away than a victory that could take years to capture.
“He’s not coming.” Alena paced, wringing her hands, counting steps from one pine tree to the next and back again. “Something’s wrong, Evan.”
Evan almost laughed at that. Everything was wrong. The Lord had fallen, the Organization had slowly unraveled. The Aurors were suddenly fearless, informants turned spies, unmarked supporters turned traitors, arrests and torture and chaos. When Severus had said he was going in to give himself up, Evan had told him he was mad, that he’s marked, that they would never believe him unless he gave them names. Severus said he had a plan and to trust him. “I’m only doing what Lucius and Avery have done,” he had said. “We have a plan, remember?” There always had been a backup of sorts in case one of them was taken. Legitimate names of places which would be evacuated of any sensitive information and abandoned if one of their own were taken. A few days ago a signal had gone out, a list of names of traitors and anyone else known to have been captured, killed or known to already be on the Order’s list. Evan knew this was a safety – if anyone wanted a way out, they would have a list of names to give to seem legitimate without putting anyone in unnecessary danger. Lucius and Jack Avery were making use of this. Evan had fought with Jack about the matter, but fear was too powerful a force to be so easily swayed. Avery had gone to turn himself in and now Severus was doing the same.
They had set up this rendezvous before Severus had gone. He’d promised to find out what he could about Angelus, to give them all the heads up he could. But Snape was late and Snape was almost never late. “Maybe they decided to question him more? It’s been the standard five days, but…”
“No, I saw it in the papers this morning, they’re done with him. He got a full pardon. Dumbledore’s amnesty, something like that.” Alena was still pacing but Evan felt his heart skip a beat. Dumbledore’s amnesty? None of the others had gotten that…
Evan grabbed her hand, a frantic, spastic gesture. “We have to go.”
“Now! We have to go! Allie, it’s a trap.” Evan could feel his heart pounding in his head, frantic, every beat stinging and slicing away at everything inside him. Evan’s fingers closed over her wrist but even as he tried to apparate, realized that the air was thick, too thick. Evan scrambled for the portkey, already knowing that either they would be going straight into an ambush or…The portkey was dead, just a peace of metal in his hand, without its usual magic pulsing. They’d put up an anti-portkey field. It could have been a precaution, but Evan knew better.
“Evan, what’s going on?” Alena hissed, fear slipping into her tone even as she, instinctively, began to shift into a back-to-back position with him. Evan let go of her wrist and turned to look at her even as the faint rustle of grass and underbrush began to echo around them as the Aurors closed in within range.
“Listen to me,” Evan said, not bothering to turn around and face their enemies. Not until he said this. “Severus has betrayed us.” Her eyes widened as realization finally sunk in but Evan kept talking, not letting her get a word in. “I don’t want to be taken alive—“
“I don’t either—“
“Do something for me? If they stun me or somehow knock me out but don’t kill me, throw an Avada my way? I don’t care to be subjected to their indecencies. But I do mean to go down fighting and take as many of them with me as I can.”
She nodded, mouth pressed in a tight, concentrated line. “Only if you do the same for me.”
“I love you.” It was the first time he’d said that to her, but at least he got the chance.
“I love you,” she echoed, the edges of the words fraying.
Evan turned, feeling Alena’s back lightly pressing against his. He raised his wand to a ready position. Moody’s lined face came looming out of the shadows of the trees. “Evan Rosier, Alena Wilkes, you are under arrest for Death Eater activities.”
“One,” Evan murmured under his breath, just loud enough for his partner to hear, just like on missions. “Two…”
“I suggest you come quietly.”
The world had never been so bright or so loud and Evan had never felt so alive, so right. Never, except for the first time he had kissed Alena. Nothing had ever come close to that.