For once, I have written something out of my free will.
For Em. Thank you for letting me be your rock during your bouts of insanity (and vice versa).
Word Count: 4,025
She's the daughter of the richest noble in the town, but she never expected to fall for a commoner.
He's the baker's son, crafting cakes and pastries with his own bare hands in order to earn money to pay taxes. The bakery is one of the best in town; even nobility deigns to pay a visit every once in a while.
She was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and has never lifted a finger to do anything in her entire life. She is clothed, fed, and sheltered; she cannot go anywhere without someone bowing and worshiping the ground she walks on. She will marry by her seventeenth birthday and become a lady of the king's court.
In other words, her life is dictated by others and she has no freedom to do or be whatever she wishes.
She longs for once to make her own decisions based on her free will and escape from her home, ruled by restrictions.
Finally, on one pleasant, summery evening in the autumn, when the leaves were parting from their roots and crackling underfoot, Ted Tonks had a serendipitous encounter with Andromeda Black.
He was carrying a heavy picnic basket with a blank sheet lying over it, hiding the contents from view. She was taking an evening stroll after assuring her parents it was perfectly safe and there were no miscreants about.
A man bumps into Ted, snapping coarsely, "Out of my way, you peasant."
Ted doesn't retort, knowing he doesn't have the authority to. He is of a lower social class, therefore limiting his comebacks.
However, Andromeda is of a class equal to the man's, so she is allowed to retaliate. And that's exactly what she does. It is in her best interests to keep her indignation at bay if she wants to force a proper apology from him.
"Lucius," she says smoothly, sidling up the blonde-haired man. A flash of surprise flits across face before returning to its stoic expression.
"Andromeda," he replies briskly. Andromeda purses her lips together.
"I saw what happened with that man back there," she delves experimentally.
Lucius's thin and unnaturally pale lips curl into a disdainful sneer. "Those lowly peasants," he growls, "who do they think they are, disrespecting those in a ranking above their own? They have no right to strut around like the own the land."
Andromeda stifles a cynical snort. If anyone was strutting, it was him. Still, she held her silence as per proper etiquette. It was not, according to an unwritten rule of society, acceptable for a woman to lose her temper, especially in public.
Lucius was ranting on, unaware to Andromeda's rapidly deteriorating interest. She occasionally bobbed her head, not knowing what she was agreeing to. Her thoughts drift to the brunette man with the picnic basket.
Lucius's scornful voice intermittently enters her thoughts before she tunes out his unjustified complaints.
And suddenly, she finds herself unknowingly consenting to a plan to teach the lower classes a lesson.
"So," Lucius says, evidently proud that he is spearheading a supposedly ingenious mission, "you will going to the peasant man's business and humoring him for some time, before you prove his deviousness to the village and discredit his reputation. That will teach them to not be impudent to their superiors."
Andromeda withholds her laughter. If he wants her to cooperate with him, he needs her to be willing, which is something she does not even entertain. He has forgotten that she is a Black and she doesn't follow the others.
Maybe it's time to concoct a plan of her own.
:o:
The bell jingles cheerfully as Ted wipes down the counter. He pauses and glances up, angels singing as he admires the poised and seemingly flawless woman, most likely of nobility, standing at the entrance.
Her wide, soft brown eyes absorb the numerous treats lined up on the shelves and inside the glass display cases.
Ted smiles genially at the woman, his hand idly abandoning the cleaning cloth in favor of hanging uselessly at his side. His throat is dry. In the presence of such a regal and beautiful woman, he cannot deny the trustworthy aura this woman emanates.
Thankfully, the woman does not notice his discomfort. She inspects the cupcakes before finally selecting a standard chocolate crème. He packs it in a paper bag as she fishes through her purse for some pounds. She ends up withdrawing a bank note that would make his mother faint.
"I'm sorry," she says apologetically, "this is the closest note that I have. Do you have any change?"
He scrounges through the register's cash box, but there is none to be found. "Sorry, but we have none," he apologizes.
She smiles radiantly. "That's not a problem! Just keep the change."
Ted feels a blush rise to his cheeks. "Oh no, ma'am, I couldn't-"
"Andromeda," she interrupts, "you can call me Andromeda or just Andi. I don't have a preference."
Ted hesitates before sticking out his own hand. "I'm Edward, but no one calls me that. I go by Ted."
Andromeda doesn't wrinkle her nose or refuse the handshake. Instead, she clasps his hand in her own and shakes it politely.
"Nice to meet you, Ted," she says, her voice bright. "Now, as I was saying, you can keep the change. I don't need it."
Ted was reluctant to accept the money, but his family did need it. And if this girl was nobility, she wouldn't need it, right?
"Thank you, that's extremely generous of you." He stows the money away in the cash box, not taking his eyes off of her. She smiles back and he swears he hears angels sing.
He barely hears her goodbye and the bell jingles as the door swings shut. He curses, realizing he should've probably asked her to come back.
God, she is so beautiful. He wants to marry her someday, but she is out of his reach.
"What's the fuss, Ted?" asks Ted's mother as she comes out from the kitchen, her hands dusted in flour. "Who was that?"
Ted was still seeing stars as he replied dreamily, "My future wife."
Mrs. Tonks, to say the least, was very alarmed.
:o:
Ted looks up eagerly as the door opens again, but it is not her. A blonde-haired, well-dressed man stands in the entrance, staring around haughtily.
Ted instantly labels him as a rich noble. The air of superiority he totes around with him is palpable. It's as clear as the glass cases he's scrutinizing.
Ted waits patiently as his customer looks around before he marches to the register and demands, "Where are the baguettes?"
"I'm sorry sir, but we're out. My mother is baking new ones right now. If you could wait for just a few minutes, she'll have them out of them oven hot and fresh."
The man mutters something under his breath, but retreats to the corner of the bakery, sniffing condescendingly. He looks awfully familiar, but Ted doesn't linger too long over that.
The baguettes are ready in five minutes and Ted himself fetches one for his customer.
The man stares at the baguette before saying loudly, "How much?"
He deliberately opens his wallet as slowly as possible and flashes it smugly at Ted, who resists the urge to smother him. He takes the high road instead, smiling graciously as he names the price, making it slightly higher than it should be.
The man doesn't know any the wiser and pays the extra money, believing it to be full pric , upturning his nose in the process. Ted just continues smiling in a good-natured manner, secretly thrilled at his little victory. Sure, it is immoral, but sometimes there was pleasure in taking a little revenge.
The man seems to be put out by his inexplicably amiable attitude and practically stomps out, slamming the door and rattling the display of macaroons beside it.
Ted grins to no one.
Grandpa would be proud.
:o:
"That imbecile," Andromeda mutters spitefully, "thinking the world revolves around him. I can't believe Mother has such poor taste. Takes one to know one, I suppose."
She had just met with a prospective husband. The man was twice her age and widowed and he was self-absorbed. Andromeda had done her best to endure the one meal they had shared with him, but as soon as it was over, she'd literally bolted out with a hasty excuse of needing to walk off her heavy supper. No doubt they would berate her inelegance, but she could bear it.
Andromeda walks quickly past the flashing lights of a pub. A group of intoxicated men were catcalling and hooting raucously at her as she kept her head down, wanting nothing more than for a sinkhole to open under her feet.
"Oi, sweetheart!" one man shouts drunkenly, "Whatcha looking uptight for? Come here and have a drink with us. We don't bite."
They dissolve into laughter. Andromeda looks around wildly for some refuge.
Aha! The bakery was right next to her. She ducks inside, the men's voices ringing in her ears.
"Hey," says a friendly, familiar voice, "how are you?"
Andromeda whirls around and her eyes lock with the affable ones of Ted.
"Hey," she says breathlessly, relaxing as the welcomed heat began to thaw out her icy skin, "working late?"
"No, I'm just cleaning up," he replies. "What brings you here?"
She couldn't just say oh, I just came because it was conveniently my only escape from drunk men, so she twisted the truth slightly. "I was taking a brisk stroll and I happened to see you."
"Oh." Ted's already rosy cheeks warm. She had come just to see him.
She presses a finger to her lips."And I also wanted to see your world-famous selection of croissants, because I'm starving."
Okay, maybe that wasn't the truth, but it was only a small sidetrack. Besides, she was hungry, since she'd had to listen to the old man's prattling all evening and had only eaten one small serving of ravioli.
"Right over here." Ted leads her over to a shelf lined with all kinds of croissants. Buttered croissants, chocolate-filled croissants; you name it, they had it.
Andromeda is overwhelmed by the wide variety of croissants.
"I'll have one with hazelnut filling," she says, pointing one perfectly manicured finger at the chosen croissant.
Ted is already at her side, and with a pair of tongs, he lifts the croissant with great caution and drops it into the paper bag.
"How much?" she asks, digging around in her purse.
He gently pushes the bag towards her, a kind smile on his face. "Free of charge."
"What?! I can't do that; it's really no trouble—"
He silences her with a finger to her painted lips. "Don't worry; consider it as repayment for your benevolence with the cupcake."
She gazes into his warm cocoa eyes and she feels something in her heart change.
Lucius is wrong in his assumptions about lower-class bakers.
Her eyes flit down to his finger and she is aware that this an intimate moment and he could just lean in and—
And the moment is abruptly halted as Ted snaps to the present, removing his finger, a bit of red lipstick smeared on the side.
"Right," he says to no one in particular. "Well, I have an early start tomorrow so it'd be best if I headed to bed now."
"Of course," she says, forcing a smile for the umpteenth time that night. "I s'pose I'll drop by tomorrow."
She holds his steady gaze, dreading what was lying in front of her. She didn't want to face the world; she was perfectly content here with in the bakery with Ted.
"Wait," she says thickly, catching Ted's wrist as he makes to leave, "please walk me out, will you?"
He nods right away, even though it's such a short distance between here and the pavement outside. But she doesn't want to deal with those drunk men on her own; as long as Ted is with her she'll feel safer.
Ted links his arm through hers in true gentlemanly fashion and guides her out, where the inebriated men are still hollering indistinctly at another girl. Both flinch as one yells a gender slur and the poor girl runs straight into Andromeda, just as Ted's arms tense.
Andromeda tries to console the terrified girl, kneeling down as to meet the girl's watery eyes.
Ted watches fondly as Andromeda embraces the girl in a motherly way after calming her down. She wipes away her tears with the cloth of her onyx cloak, indifferent to the fact she was dirtying it.
"There, there," she reassures soothingly, "it's going to be all right. Here, why don't you have my croissant?"
And Ted looks on in awe as she selflessly gives her free croissant to a girl who's having a breakdown, completely ignoring her own hunger.
The girl's face relaxes visibly as she bites into the flaky croissant, moaning with delight.
"That's better now, isn't it?" says Andromeda encouragingly, casting a knowing look at Ted. "Do you like it?"
"It's amazing!"
Ted beams, about to take credit for it, but Andromeda beats him to it.
"He made it." Andromeda gestures to her friend, who grins.
The girl gulps down another bite and says, "You did?" while staring at Ted, awestruck.
Ted puffs out his chest. "Yup. One hundred percent baked by me."
The girl chews, looking at Ted and Andromeda with utmost reverence. "Are you two married?"
Ted chokes on his saliva, so Andromeda takes the initiative. "We're not," she confirms, sparing one concerned glance at Ted.
The girl looks confused. "Then why were you two walking out of the bakery arm-in-arm?"
Ted finally regains control of himself. "We're friends," he explains, "and I was being a dutiful friend and walking her out."
"Oh." Her round face clears up with a lingering doubt, which goes unnoticed by both adults.
"Do you think you'll be able to go home by yourself?" Andromeda asks, keen to return to the impending subject.
"Y-Yes," the girl replies, a sudden tremor in her voice, "but could you walk me to the end of the street?"
Andromeda suddenly understood the girl's predicament. She was fearing the same things Andromeda herself had been worrying over not five minutes ago.
"Sure," she agrees tenderly. She glances at Ted. "Coming?"
He knows it's long past his self-scheduled bedtime, but he doesn't want to leave these two vulnerable girls alone (although Andromeda is probably capable of defending herself).
"Yes," he consents. Andromeda gives him a look of adoration and Ted nearly faints.
Andromeda is at the head of their little brigade, with Ted assuming the title of caboose. The girl, much more placated, resides in the protection of the middle.
They walk in silence, the girl occasionally whimpering as the men's taunting laughter floats over to them. Ted grinds his teeth but does not react for the sake of the two females accompanying him.
Ted feels his fists clench, his blood boils, and he struggles to keep his anger at bay as a man yells at Andromeda, "You're married, eh? Leave the peasan' and come wit' us; you'll have more fun."
Andromeda is sorely tempted to give him a piece of her mind and she can tell Ted is just itching to strangle the lot of them. But what stops them is the girl, who whispers, "Don't."
And they don't.
They walk to the end of the street and pause there as they offer their farewells.
"Stay safe," murmurs Andromeda. Ted inserts his own goodbye and they watch as the girl walks away, her brown hair swinging.
It's only when a streetlight flickers out that they realize how close they are to each other. Ted's hand is centimeters from hers, if only she'd let him—
As if she could read his thoughts, she laces her slender fingers through her own. Ted gazes at her wonder, thinking she looks so beautiful under the dim lights.
She blushes as she catches his intense gaze and they lock eyes for one short moment, words passing unspoken through their eyes.
Then Andromeda tears her eyes and looks back at the forlorn street the girl has just disappeared down. "I hop no one accosts her along the way," she says anxiously, chewing on her lip. "Poor girl has been through enough tonight."
"She'll be fine," Ted assures, though he is a bit nervous himself.
She doesn't respond, looking at their interlocked fingers. She feels her heart flutter in her chest. She has never willingly held hands with a man before.
Maybe Ted is a contender.
:o:
Andromeda flops onto her bed, giddy with joy. She loved Ted. She loved him so much it constricted her throats with emotion.
His kind smile. His twinkling eyes. His unselfishness. His purity. And most of all, just him.
He was no Prince Charming, he was not a worthy suitor in her parents' eyes, but she could care less.
Okay, maybe she had to care. After all, she had to devise a way to tell her parents that she intended to marry a man from a lower-class and somehow avoid insulting their taste in men.
She couldn't just declare oh Mum and Dad, I love a baker's son. By the way, what's for supper?
That would not bode well with them. Her parents appreciated honesty and straightforwardness, but they did not like disobeying the rules of a high-class society.
In this type of society, the women were expected to be mannerly, well-dressed, and impeccable. They were supposed to be wed to a wealthy man and respect his commands.
Andromeda wasn't like those prim and proper ladies. She sought freedom whenever she could and relished those few times, which were few and far between.
She finally settles on telling them the conventional way: face-to-face.
No more holding back.
She schedules a family meeting the next afternoon, right before they are due to meet another pre-approved candidate for her hand in marriage.
Everyone is there precisely on time; a Black wouldn't be caught dead being tardy. Everybody is there except for Walburga's boys, who are too young to attend the gathering.
She pours everyone a glass of Chardonnay before standing at the head of the table. Normally, that's where the eldest person in the family sits and conducts the meetings, but today it has been reserved for her since she is the one with an announcement.
The gazes of her family pierce coldly through her and she shivers, not daring to imagine their reactions when she informs them she wants to court a baker's son.
"Everyone, young and old, of the noble Black family, I have a declaration to make."
Her eyes connect with the steel ones of her mother's.
"I have fallen in love with a baker."
Deafening silence roars in her ears. Everyone in the room has frozen except for her with accusation in their eyes. She trembles but doesn't crack.
"A-A baker?"
Her mother is the one who shatters the silence with her hurtful words. Her father is sitting rigidly next to her mother, but his rage is betrayed on his face.
"A baker?!"
It is Aunt Walburga who picks up where her mother left off, contempt lacing her biting words. Andromeda recalls her bitterness and enmity is due to her late husband abandoning her with their two sons for a seamstress.
"Yes, Aunt Walburga, a baker. But he is not as outrageously greedy and selfish as you think. He's actually extremely sweet—"
"Sweet!" Walburgabellows. "You need a respectable man with a reputable business, not a baker."
Her aunt's derision makes her regret telling her entire family. Why couldn't she have told just her parents and not create a scene about it? Now her whole family knew about her scandalous affiliation.
"He is," she says desperately, "his family owns the bakery and it is a popular—"
"Enough!" screeches Walburga. "I forbid you to marry this man! As long you have blood in your veins, you will not wed anyone below us. Your parents have chosen good men for you; why refute them?"
Andromeda feels tears well up, but Walburga is anything but sympathetic. She glares at Andromeda one last time before storming out, leaving another ear-splitting silence in her wake.
Andromeda stares hopelessly around the room. No one comes to her defense, so, with tears threatening to burst, she flees the room.
That had been agonizing and disastrous.
Now that she was out of the sight of judgmental family members, she ran all the way to her room. The paisley wallpaper she had so lovingly picked out with her mother now seemed to glare menacingly at her, as if it too were chastising her insubordination.
She needed comfort. She needed Ted.
:o:
Ted looks up cheerfully from behind the counter as the bell jingles, expecting Andromeda. It is the love of his life (yes, he is madly and irrevocably in love with her after that display of kindness the other night), but he sees her tearstained cheeks and immediately becomes concerned.
He hurries to her side, extracts his handkerchief, and wipes away her tears. She looks up at him, her gorgeous eyes heartbroken.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
"M-My family," she blubbers, "they don't like the man I love. They won't even try to be open-minded; they just criticized me heavily and called me errant. They won't accept that I love someone not in our class."
Ted feels a heart-wrenching pang as she utters the words "the man I love" (they're dreadful words), but he pushes it aside. If he were to sulk now, that would be insensitive.
Andromeda continues to weep as Ted pulls her into his arms, securely enfolding her. "I'm scared, Ted; what if they disown me or worse, cut ties with me completely? They're prejudiced, but they're my family?"
"Then they don't deserve to have you," Ted states firmly, "if they can't trust you. You're amazing, Andi, any person would be lucky to have you."
Except for me; you are out of my reach.
She smiles brilliantly at him. "Really?"
"Really," he says, his fingers threading through her soft chestnut locks. Her skin burns pleasantly where his fingers brush.
She looks up at him with undisguised longing and need. She needs him to touch her, reassure her, hold her and tell her everything is okay. His presence provides welcomed solace; his warm and heartfelt hug expresses everything she needs to know.
He's going to be there for her.
That's why she loves him.
It's like a fire ignites in her heart with the same passion that's smoldering in Ted's eyes. He needs her too, purely out of love.
And the rejuvenating revelation strikes her like lightning.
He loves her back.
Her tears evaporate as she steps out of Ted's arms. He looks momentarily bewildered before she drags his face towards her own, meeting his lips in a sweet, heart-melting kiss.
It's nor fast or hot, but it spreads through Andromeda, toasting her body.
Ted's lips gradually move in sync with hers, matching her steady rhythm. Her heart thrums at a moderately fast pace.
Slowly, she builds up the will to pull away. A crestfallen expression forms on his face, but it morphs quickly into dumbfounded.
On the inside, Ted was hyperventilating. Andromeda had just kissed him; how could he not be ecstatic?
Andromeda is blushing furiously, her face redder than the décor of the bakery. Ted's completely stunned, but he manages to query, "I thought you loved someone else?"
"No." Andromeda shakes her head, ignoring his bluntness. "It was always you, Ted. I think I fell in love with you that night when we met that girl. When she thought we were a couple, I had a brief vision of us together."
"No way!" he says disbelievingly. "That's the same night I fell in love you!"
"It certainly seems like we were meant to be together." Andromeda smiles gratefully. "I'm glad fate put me with you. I wouldn't have chosen anyone else."
Ted's grin could power a hundred suns. "Me too."
:o:
Three days later, and this story is finally complete. Before I exit, however, I have to address a few questions there may be.
Lucius's sudden disappearance was deliberate; I needed a conflicting character and once his role was fulfilled, I eased him out. I almost wrote Rabastan instead, but we don't know a whole lot about him and Lucius seemed more fitting.
The time period is unknown; even I am unsure. All I can tell you is that this is not the modern-era setting; this takes place around the 1970s or whenever Ted married Andromeda.
Lastly, this is a slight Royalty-ish AU. I'm not sure which AU to classify it as, so if you have any suggestions, please include it in your review!
Have a wonderful rest of August!