Chapter One:
Rebel Yell.
Stomping could be heard throughout the Kal'Tahar house that fateful night. Providing the prominent percussion and staccato was none other than ten year old Tristan Kal'Tahar. His temper (rumored to be just as great as his father's) was sent far beyond the breaking point tonight. Once again young Tristan was forced to stay at home with a baby sitter while his parents got to enjoy themselves at yet another party. Tristan was outraged and he decided right then and there that he would no longer be made to suffer these obscenities.
"I want to come with!" He screamed as his carefully planned out rebuttal. He just came within shouting distance of his father. Fists went flying, whirling above his head in obvious frustration. "WHY CAN'T I COME WITH YOU?" He bawled stamping his feet madly like he was in pain.
"Because you'd be bored, so you'll spend the whole night trying to get into our way, now go to your room and get ready for bed," His father, Dalejin, said rather callously. He tried getting a glimpse of his sons emerald eyes but only caught the top of his head, as he was obviously trying to avoid eye contact.
"Dalejin!" Tristan's mother, Leona shouted. "Come here a moment wont you?" She asked in her usual melodic tone that quite contrasted Dalejin's gruff voice.
Dalejin gave what almost passed as a look of sympathy for his son, and reached out to brush his hair out of his eyes, "hey, don't be like that," he said with a mock frown, "we'll bring you something back we pro-"
"I DON'T WANT ANYTHING!" Tristan shouted violently, pushing his father's hand away storming past him. "I HATE you; you're the WORST father, EVER!" Was the last Dalejin heard from Tristan before he slammed his door and looked himself in his room.
Defeated, Dalejin gave a sigh as he walked into his room to see what his wife needed. His grief was temporarily forgotten as he looked at her. She had the most unusually natural pink hair he had ever seen on a woman, or man, for that matter. It attracted him to her instantly. He walked over to her slowly and played with the straps of her long green dress and nape of her neck playfully, relaxing in the therapeutic scent of her perfume.
Leona let a small smile creep from the corner or her lips and giggled.
"You needed me?" He asked softly as he rested his chin on her shoulder and stared into the mirror that Leona happened to be doing her make-up in. The tickling sensation from his stubble beard made her giggle more.
"Not any more," she smiled at him through the mirror. "You took so long getting over here, I figured it out myself," she said patting his dark brown curls that made up his hair. "Is everything alright with Tristan?" She asked worriedly through the mirror.
"He's fine, just threw a tantrum," He sighed staring at his shoes then looked back up at his wife. "And pity you can't handle more of your own problems, I'd rather not like to get my hands dirty, if I can help it," he smirked and moved from Leona to the bed and sat down on it. To pretend that he was doing something, Dalejin adjusted the cuff links on his sleeves. He had been dressed in his navy blue suit for a while now, and wished his wife would give up on the hair and make-up thing so they could go.
In fairness, he actually wasn't in that big a hurry to get to this 'party.' In fact, he rather wished he could stay home. It was to be a suit and tie banquet. The guest list would include several witch and wizards of great importance, several members of the wizengammot were rumored to be in attendance. Politics would most likely be discussed heatedly, and in great length. This made Dalejin rather envious of his son that was to stay home with the babysitter, Crys, Leona's best friend. He was reluctant to play witness to Leona making a fool of her self while trying to defend the rights of house elves. She thought and acted with her heart, Dalejin both loved and respected her for that, but she needed to learn that some house elves just didn't want to be freed. How hard of a concept was institutionalization anyway?
Bringing Dalejin from his thoughts, as if on cue, Leona spun around twirling her dress like a little girl. What do you think? He knew would be the next question to come from her lips.
"Well, do I look decent enough to be seen out in public?" Dalejin was so caught off guard by her sarcastic tone, and nonchalant attitude that he gave a chuckle.
"I don't know," he responded to her with a cocky grin. "You sure you have enough moisturizer to tackle that dragon's hide of yours?" He teased. Leona responded in her typical fashion of taking no prisoners and jumped on the bed, pinning him to it. She gave him a mean look in an attempt to be angry but failed miserably. This sudden burst of energy gave her a radiant glow, making it seem impossible that anyone would utter the previous accusation.
"You look marvelous," Dalejin noted quickly in defeat. "Now would you please get off me so we can get out of here, we're late enough as it is," he added as she slowly reversed directions guiding her heeled feet to the floor. She walked over to the mirror and fixed her appearance ever so slightly before leaving the room, with Dalejin following close behind.
As they walked down the hall Leona paused by Tristan's room. She raised her arm to the door and gave a pleading look to her husband obviously wanting to go in and tell her son good night. He shrugged his shoulders and motioned to the door silently.
Leona knocked.
"Tristan, honey, we're leaving. We'll be back by midnight, promise," she said sweetly to the door in the way that only a mother could. For her reward the door decided to respond with a loud thud - Tristan had thrown a shoe at it.
Dalejin was about to shout at him, locked door or not, but Leona cut him off by pressing her hand against his lips.
"Let's just leave him be," she whispered, "Let's let him think he won," She added. Dalejin gave her a confused look but acquiesced all the same.
"Let's go then," he said stoically after a short pause and brushed past her angrily as he marched down the steps that led to the foyer. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Dalejin shouted once he was he was out of sight. Leona, still standing next to Tristan's door was confused.
"Honey, I called Crys over, remember," she breathed in a hurried tone as she raced down the steps to greet her friend and to alleviate her husbands confusion.
Who she encountered next when she joined her husband left her speechless.