A/N: This is a rather old piece from the earliest years of when I wrote fanfiction. Thanks to FictionHunt I was able to find all of my terrible and old stories. Ugh, I regret seeing The Seer of Multitude and Second Time's the Charm, though. They be gross. Gross, I say! Anywho, most of this is the original writing from 2016, with just a few changes and a major update to early plot details.
Drowning in Black:
Chapter One
The send off for Jonah was nothing short of sad. And, as Esther Bird was quick to observe, rather annoying. Strangers - mostly the friends and family of Jonah - stole what they thought to be well-hidden glances. They expected something, and she would be glad to give it to them if it'd make them leave her alone, however she couldn't...just couldn't.
As the sleek, black coffin was lowed into the ground with magic and covered with dirt, there was nothing. Her cheeks remained dry, and her heart empty.
A gentle touch at her shoulder forced her to turn around. Nyssa, her eldest daughter, scowled and gently nodded her head back to their estate. Esther rose an elegant, thin eyebrow in the young girl's direction to which Nyssa simply ignored and looked away from. Scoffing under her breath, the older woman politely excused herself from the mourners. Taking her daughter's lead, she, too, ignored their curious glances directed at her back.
Only when the pair were far enough away from prying ears and close to the estate did Esther's only son appear from the front door, restricting the crying, kicking Ursa. "Mum," Altair started to say, but was swiftly silenced by a well placed uppercut from the ten year old who's wiggling grew fiercer once she caught sight of their mother.
Nyssa covered her mouth and turned away, her shoulders jerking from what could only be the beginnings of laughter.
"Nyssa," Esther warned, the corner of her pale lips twitching in amusement, "that's not lady like. Altair, be a dear and take your sister to the study. She obviously needs a refresher."
Altair froze, one hand pausing in the air from where he was defending himself from one of Ursa's attacks, his eyes shifting to his oldest sister. She, too, had paused where she stood, her mouth falling open. Esther cleared her throat and Nyssa quickly closed it. They paused before entering, sharing a glance between them before looking at their little sister. Esther, however, was staring at them, her arms crossed, wand out. As though the two were under the Imperius Curse by the look alone, they silently disappeared into the estate as instructed, both solidly ignoring the nausea they felt when leaving the delicate child to her fate.
This left Ursa to face their mother alone. The ten year old, still crying, started to make her way to the only other person around - her mother - when she suddenly toppled over. Her head made a sickening smack against the magically paved pathway.
Through the child's screeches, Esther leaned over, her wand dangling in her right hand, and whispered, "Go inside. Cry if you must, but by the heavens do it in private, girl." Her thin hand wrapped around Ursa's much smaller arm and pulled until she stood to her full height, softly whimpering. Contradictory to Esther's harsh words and actions, she gently pressed her daughter into her side, ignoring the tears as they soaked through her dress.
The door closed and locked behind them, the coffin finally fully covered and the people dispersed.
In another part of the estate the Bird family called home, Nyssa was pacing in large, lazy circles. Altair stood guarding the door to the study. Both were unnaturally pale, though Nyssa was a much better actor than her brother and better hid her nervousness and fear by playing casual.
"Roses," Nyssa started to the quiet room.
"Sunlight," Altair replied with a weak smile and even weaker voice.
"Logic," they finished together, voices stronger, their smiles a tad more genuine.
Both worked tirelessly to think of how their mother must have been before they were born. What they created instead was a fantasy land with a fictional mother they affectionally called mama in their youths behind their real mother's back. She smelt like roses. She wore nothing but light clothes. She taught them fairly. Unlike their real mother, who smelled of suffocatingly expensive perfume from Witch Ladies' Best; wore dark, stuffy clothes; and taught them by fear.
They knew their fantasy was just that - a fantasy. And, as they grew, they came to accept that things would never change, but they still spoke the qualities in times of stress. It was their security blanket. It was something only the two shared.
Altair worried his lips with his teeth and glanced down the hall.
"She's still not here?"
Altair shook his head wordlessly, and Nyssa, who came to stand with him, cursed under her breath. "Careful mum doesn't hear that. Your punishment would be worse."
"I know," Nyssa whispered back. "Why do you think I did it under my breath, hm?" She stared at her brother, eyebrow raised, smirk in place. He rolled his blue eyes skyward, and she, happy with the response, leaned out in the hallway to take another look. Eyes wide, she gasped, threw herself back, and closed the door. "Mum's coming." The hollow click clack of what sounded to be high heeled shoes creeped closer to the study door.
Both took long, quick strides to the seats strategically placed around the desk, and plotted themselves on their hard cushions just as the door opened.
"Grandpapa?" Altair blurted, his forehead furrowed in the confusion both siblings felt. Grandpa Bird, their late father's father, was a striking man the years had been only too kind to. The Bird family hadn't seen the man since Nyssa was ten. Seeing as she was now fifteen, five years had passed since he'd been seen or even heard from. The spur of questions left the two at the same time once the shock of seeing a man they had only assumed was dead.
Carmine Bird tapped his cane twice and the uproar the siblings started between them stopped. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Opening them once more, he smiled to ease the tension. "I'm sorry you two but I'm afraid I have to be the bearer of bad news." And, indeed, he shifted where he stood and kept glancing at the open door. Under his breath and below their hearing the elder man muttered, twisting his cane around in his finicky hands.
"You're dying?" Nyssa asked, her gaze swooping over the older man's face, searching for any sign of obvious illness.
"No." Nyssa and Altair breathed easier knowing the only family who actually cared was alright. "However ..." Nyssa reached out her hand and her brother clasped it in support. "Your mother is ill."
"What?"
"Your mother is-"
"No," Nyssa interrupted, "we're not hard on hearing. What do you mean she's sick?"
"I...I'm sorry. She was supposed to tell you after the funeral."
Altair scoffed. "Obviously not," he commented, snatching his hand away from Nyssa and folding them across his chest, his lips falling into a deep frown.
"Ah." Carmine cleared his throat, casting shifty glances at the temptingly open door. The study was becoming increasingly stiff.
"Why didn't she tell us?" Altair demanded.
"She-"
"And where have you been?" Nyssa suddenly cut in, pointing a finger at him, her teeth bared and jaw clenched.
"Listen I-"
"No letters, no visits. We thought you were dead!"
Finally, Carmine snapped. "Enough!" he shouted, bringing his cane down, and making a loud slap on the wood flooring. "I can answer your questions if you'd only give me a chance." Nyssa, staring wide eyed, backed up into one of the chairs. Altair did as well, head down like a scolded child, muttering a quick apology before he fell silent.
"Now, as I was trying to say before I was so rudely interr-"
"Grandpapa, I'm sorry. We didn't mean to be rude. It surprised us is all." Nyssa hung her head and played with her fingers, a red flush crossing her skin. She wasn't used to apologizing. Their mother really did hate it when they apologized - she thought of it as weakness, and, by Merlin, the Birds were not weak.
Carmine sighed and collapsed in a chair across from them. He stared blankly, silently waving a hand, waiting to see if they'd interrupt again. Nyssa pressed her lips shut when she realized what she'd done.
"As I was saying. Your mother didn't wish to frighten you, so she, as is typical, waited until the last minute. This meant I had to be the one to break the news because she knew I was already coming for a long overdue visit. I didn't know until I've arrived in England. You two know your mother - she's frighteningly good at deceit." Here the siblings shared a chuckle.
"Which leads to our last question. I've been in Africa researching my new book."
"And that takes five years?" Nyssa asked.
"Yes, it does. Once you two get into the type of research I do then you'll understand." Nyssa and Altair shared a look. They couldn't understand, but both decided to let it drop. Carmine had often said their mother was difficult and stubborn as a mule, but so was he, as they've found, when it came to his elusive research.
"Once we're living together, we can-"
"What?!" Nyssa stood abruptly, her eyes wild. Carmine's mouth twisted in annoyance.
"I thought we were done with that."
For a brief moment, she simply stared at him, wide-eyed, with mouth slightly parted. "No, no, and no! You can't just leave it at that and except us to be okay with it. What do you mean 'once we're living together'?"
"Are you moving in with us or..." Altair trailed off. The siblings already knew the likely truth; mother would have never given up her power in her own home, and grandpapa would threaten it.
"You will be moving with me. You," Carmine nodded to Altair, "and Nyssa."
"And Ursa? What of her?"
Their grandpapa sighed and sunk deeper into the chair. He looked older in that moment, ancient even. "Your sister," he paused, his jaw tightening, "will be staying with your mother for another year."
The room fell silent for the first time after Carmine walked through the door.
"She's grieving. She...Our mother will-"
"Break her," Nyssa finished.