Breaking the Girl

Twisting and turning

Your feelings are burning

You're breaking the girl

She meant no harm

"Time sure flies by," Grant commented, crossing his arms. He leaned against the short marble wall outside of the hall. A few feet down, Fae sat against it, lighting a cigarette.

She inhaled. Finally, "Sure does."

"Before we know it Vala will be up to her knees with babies and a sixth one on the way."

"Somehow I doubt that."

Grant looked at her. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, think about it, Grant…" she shifted. "How many siblings does Ares have?"

He thought for a moment. "Just he and Lucius if I'm correct."

"You are. What about Lucius? How many children does he have?"

"It's hard to say… Just the one, I think. Drakea or something… An odd name, that."

"I believe its Draco," she said slowly. "Do you know how many kids Ares has?"

"Only Saxon as far as I know. I've never heard mention of anyone else; the Malfoys don't usually keep that kind of information to themselves. Maybe they had a daughter or two, you can never be sure. Why?"

"Well," she continued patiently. "The Malfoy men don't have many children."

"Are you saying-"

"All I'm saying is that the Malfoy men might not be well equipped; it'd sure explain a lot. And those women they marry don't help any with their boy scout hips." She sucked on her cigarette for a bit.

"Oh."

"Yes, 'oh' is quite the expression, but now we have a wedding to catch." She flicked her cigarette, and grabbed Grant's hand.

~+~+~+~

"Excuse me, do you know who my partner might be?"

"Weren't you at the Rehearsal Dinner?"

"Ma'am, I was drunk at the Rehearsal Dinner."

"What?"

Grant sighed. "Do you know my partner or not?"

"No!"

"Then why are you wasting my time, you pug-nosed wench?" he asked mildly, irritation biting the words a bit.

The woman inhaled sharply. "How dare you! Where is your respect?"

His eyes flashed; much like a true Irish man's eyes do before he throws nice pitch of sarcasm into the game. "How about I sh-"

"Grant?" Remus interrupted meekly. "May I have a word with you?"

"Yeah sure," Grant muttered, watching the woman huff and storm off. "Bloody wench," he breathed

"Watch who you're talking to, it wouldn't be in your best interest to insult the wrong people."

"Yeah, whatever," he said distractedly, still staring at the woman.

Remus sighed. "Watch yourself, Grant."

Grant's eyes followed him as he left, they drifted, and he spotted a beautiful girl.

Casually walking towards her, she failed to notice him. "Evening, gorgeous," he greeted.

Fae's eyes flickered to him, but then back again. "Hi, Grant."

"What are you looking at?"

Slowly, she rose a hand and pointed at a man. "My partner," she replied.

"Oh?" He turned to look. "He doesn't look so bad. What's up?"

"Wait," she whispered.

The man, spotting Fae again, slicked his hair back and winked.

"He's so absorbed in himself," she hissed. "And that's only half of it… If only you could hear his thoughts."

Grant stiffened. "What's he thinking about?"

Fae turned away, and patted him on the chest. "You really don't want to know, believe me." She walked away, but Grant continued to narrow his eyes at the man. He didn't know him at all, but he already hated him.

~+~+~+~

"Vala?"

She swung around, hiding the picture behind her. "Yes?" she asked innocently.

Remus stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "It's nearly time. Are you ready?"

"Oh, I um…" she looked around, then up again. "Yes, I should be out in a minute."

"Good."

Awkwardly, they glanced around the room.

Finally, "So how do I look?"

Remus stepped forward. "You look… nice."

They both dropped their gaze, a small smile on their faces.

"Absolutely gorgeous," he added in a whisper.

"You're quite the gentleman," she replied softly.

They locked eyes, a faint smile apparent on their lips.

Trying to avoid an awkward silence, "Hurry up then." He turned for the door.

"I will," she assured, watching him leave. She waited a moment, then she took the picture out from behind her. A young face with innocent eyes looked up at her. With a slight curve to his lips, he waved. She didn't know why she still carried it around. A few months back she'd found it in a small box of pictures, and figuring Remus wouldn't notice, she took it.

"I'm marrying Saxon, you know," she said. "I just thought you should know."

She sighed, and hid the picture away. And here I am on my wedding day and more unsure than ever.

Vala inhaled deeply and reached for the door. Here goes everything, with all the loss and nothing to gain.

Grant stood restlessly next to a woman, at least what Vala suspected to be a woman. She was a whopping 6'4" with muscles bulging down her arms, and her blue bride's maid dress stretched uncomfortably across her broad shoulders. In deep green, Grant was the algae of the maid's ocean. She clutched his arm, and marched down the aisle.

Now that Vala thought of it, she had seen the woman before. If memory served, she was called Caillou. An odd name, Caillou. She wondered what it meant, and if it were the woman's real name.

Saxon would already be at the altar; all she had to do was take Remus' shaking hand. He was a brother, but like all fathers he worried about his little girl. Was the man smart? Careful? Good? So many questions and the fear that enough time would not be provided for answers.

Remus was a peaceful man who sat quietly unless problems arose. If Saxon proved to live up to his father's image, problems would rise. He could bite his tongue until it bled, but sometimes not even that could hold him back. And where Vala was concerned, he could only bite his tongue so hard.

The music hinted for them, and slowly, they walked forward. Vala took glimpses from the crowd, and occasionally caught a cheerful face in the sea of somber ones; such as those of Bill Weasley and Geneva Hutchins. She shifted her hand on Remus' arm; it was uncomfortable being under those heavy eyes. She had a reputation to live up to; a reputation of all Malfoy women, one she could not create, but easily break. And broken reputations made broken women, thus making them live shorter lives. The Malfoy women were expected to be passive and silent, taking orders from their husbands and snubbing those below them. She was to kick House Elves and judge wizards by their dress robes. It was a hard life, being married to a Malfoy.

To the untrained eye, Remus seemed to have let go of Vala, but to those who had examined his steps and his movements, would notice Vala nearly had to pull herself from him.

Softly, she patted his hand, and leaning towards his ear, she whispered so only he could hear, "I love you." And faintly, she wondered if she could ever say those words again. She thought she heard a sniff, and gracefully, he pulled himself away. A second longer, and he wouldn't have let her go.

Vala briefly locked eyes with her Maid of Honor, Fae Mortel, then rose her defeated eyes to Saxon Malfoy. It's a horrible thing, she reflected, doing what you have to do and not what you want.

She took Saxon's hand. It was unnecessary to bid farewell to a life of freedom because at age seventeen you're not granted much freedom. Give her a few more years single, and she might have known what she was losing.

~+~+~+~

The short hours lengthened enormously, and Vala found herself sitting silently at the head table. She'd finished dinner, though she hadn't eaten enough for it to truly be a dinner.

"We'd like the couple's dance now," a man behind her said. "First the bride and groom, and then the rest of the party--preferably in order. Meaning, the best man and maid of honor next."

Vala thought she saw Fae cringe to her left. Regardless, she nodded. Again, Saxon took her hand and they rose. It must be odd, she thought, to never see a bride smile. Though, I suspect the Malfoy weddings are all alike.

She had tried to be happy, but failed greatly. The wedding was better called a funeral. Dark, somber faces stared at her with hollow eyes. Like dead faces in the dark they stared with glassy eyes and sallow skin.

Saxon took her in his arms and held her possessively. Thoughtlessly, she danced. Dancing had come as a natural to her, but it had no passion anymore. Now it was steps. Just steps. One step following another in a strategic pattern.

Over Saxon's shoulder, she saw Fae take her partner to the floor. Fae didn't seem to enjoy it, but she did well with bearing burdens and didn't seem to hate it either. Vala had met her partner before. Saccade was his name, if she remembered correctly. She'd met him before, if only for a moment, but the impression had left a lasting effect. She didn't like many people, but she hated even fewer, and Saccade had ranked in her top five.

Unnoticed, the other partners took the floor. In pairs, they all made it; even Saxon and Caillou took up the steps.

Vala observed as Saccade slowly ran his hands down Fae's back, and rested at the small of her back. Fae's steps seemed stiffer, and Vala thought Saccade would get the message. Apparently not. Slick as a snake, he moved his hands further down, and squeezed ever so slightly. Fae was not impressed.

Reaching back, she slapped him hard across the cheek and pulled away. Enraged, Grant tore from Caillou, stormed towards the two, and punched Saccade squarely in the jaw. Saccade was knocked unbalanced, but he did not fall. Grant's fist shook.

"How dare you touch her!" he growled.

Saccade felt his jaw, slowly moving it from side to side, and with the smoothness of water, landed his fist against Grant's cheek.

Grant sprung. Before long he was rolling around on the ground with Saccade. Sometimes Saccade had the advantage of top, but Grant, being in several bar fights, was the more experienced fighter.

Grant was a dirty fighter too, and once he was on top, he grabbed Saccade's shoulders and jerked him forward and back, banging the man's head several times against the marble floor.

When blood began to trickle across the floor, a woman screamed, and a man lifted Grant from Saccade's limp body. He'd had a concussion. The nameless wizard conjured a stretcher and took Saccade from the hall. Grant breathed deeply.

Fae stared at him.

Turning to her, "I'm sor-" but before he could finish, Fae grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him into a feverish kiss.

~+~+~+~

"I worry about her," Grant whispered.

"Yes, I know."

Fae and Grant watched Vala's empty dance and weightless stares. A short while ago, they retreated to a far table. Grant needed to be far away from the crowds, and frankly, the crowds needed to be far away from Grant.

"But she'll be alright," Fae said confidently. "She's strong."

"She's broken," he breathed.

"Yes, but in time even a broken clock can tick again."

"Not on its own," he pointed out.

"Hmm… Perhaps it was a bad analogy. How about this one--Even a sick sparrow can sing again?"

"I like that one more."

"I thought you might."

They sat in silence. At length, "Fae?"

"Yes?"

"I love you, you know."

"Yes, I know."