A/N: So as the folk who follow me on tumblr might have seen, once Half the World Away (my AU of Little by Little) is done, I'm calling it a day as far as my writing Draco and Marilyn goes. I'm currently in the process of mapping out how to end this little collection in a satisfying way, including what there is still left to cover in their lives that is WORTH covering, so there will be more chapters of this, but other than that, the end is in sight. Flufftober is also on the horizon, so I'll do what I can to write a few fills of these two for that. I will warn you in the run up to the final part – and, at the moment, I'm thinking of having that final part be scenes from their actual wedding. Just seems like a nice place to end it.
I just feel like I've said everything that needs to be said with these two, and continuing to churn out more for the sake of it is just a waste of my time and especially yours – because I don't want to write something I'm not proud of solely because it's been a while since the last update. I'm sorry if this is disappointing! It's been a good few years, and a good few hundred thousand words, and it's just time.
I do have a Lord of the Rings story currently underway (Boromir/OC) for anybody who might be interested in that, and there's a link on my tumblr page where I discuss fandoms I plan to enter into in the future. I'm currently debating whether I'm going to continue my Sirius Black story or not…but, I have to admit, I'm leaning on the side of not, because I'm quickly learning that every time I try to write a Sirius story, I end up unhappy with it – some things just aren't meant to be. I also have a very lengthy Pirates of the Caribbean series that I never shut up about, and that I'm very proud of. It ended up accidentally following the same model as this – with a stupidly long first story, an AU second story, and a oneshot collection.
If none of my other stuff strikes your fancy, then it's all good, and I'm very grateful that you came along for this particular journey anyway. This pairing will always have a lot of sentimental value to me, and I'm so touched that you guys have been so lovely about it every step of the way x
Marilyn was certain that Draco was going to propose. Was certain. As in the past tense. She'd been back on the stage – a proper stage, on which proper ballet was performed, rather than for the Phantom. A fortnight ago, just over a week into January, she'd wrapped up a season of The Nutcracker, something that brought back all of the press attention that had only just really died down into something more manageable after her brush with those "fireworks" on her first performance back. It was understandable, really, given her reprisal of a role that had once ended her career. A nice full circle moment – one that offered closure. Especially now that she'd gotten through it without arsing the whole thing up, nor having a hysterical breakdown in the run up to executing the same move that robbed her of her knee last time.
No, she managed it all – and she managed it well. The reviews raved, the fans loved it, the articles covering the whole ordeal were just a bit too syrupy for her liking, and her 'husband' had been achingly supportive every single step of the way.
If she was being honest, she'd always idly thought to herself that so long as she was dancing, she never would be able to sustain a long-term relationship. Others did, but it wasn't easy, and she'd seen enough horror stories of partners resenting the dancer in the equation, and how much their career demanded of them. Maybe it was because they'd already scaled far more perilous mountains in their stubborn insistence on being together, or maybe it was because Draco also had that obsessive workaholic streak in him, but it never really ended up being a problem.
Not a real one.
Sure, there were nights where they were both exhausted from burning the candle at both ends and ended up being snippy with one another, but that was all it ever was. It never had roots in anything more real and sinister – like jealousy, or resentment. Neither of them would ever be able to cope with having a partner whose entire existence revolved around the other, languishing on the sofa as they waited for the other to have the time for a five minute chat. If anything, she felt like seeing the way the other was committed to strongly to their career fostered yet another element of respect.
And it certainly didn't help that Draco, more often than not, could decide upon his own schedule – within reason. He had no boss demanding that he do this thing or that, at this time or another. They made it work…and it did work. More than she'd ever dared hope. But what was a packed schedule after they'd managed to defeat bloodthirsty lunatics and the hackwork of Tallula Foxx?
It didn't hurt that she suspected he took a great deal of smug pleasure in making the other husbands and boyfriends look bad with the lavish gifts he turned up with on opening and closing nights…but she let him have his fun, and pretended not to preen when her colleagues grumbled their jealousy.
He leapt in front of fireworks for you, is it not time he tones it down a bit? One particularly disgruntled lad had muttered.
If only he'd known the truth. Still, much to her disbelief, it seemed Draco really hadn't decided he'd done enough – because when the Nutcracker season ended and she found herself with a schedule that was wide open, he began what could only be described as a magical mystery tour of surprising and wonderful dates, travelling via a combination of Apparating, port-keys, and even going about things the plain ol' Muggle way when there was a scenic route available, so as to avoid the risk of splinching. The sheer number of port-keys stashed away in Draco's bag, all carefully wrapped to avoid accidental touching, and labelled in a code only he knew the meaning of in order to keep her in the dark as to what lay ahead, betrayed exactly how much planning had gone into this. And that was what first stoked Marilyn's suspicions.
Their plans for date nights, which they made an effort to make time for as a hard rule, not wanting to simply become housemates who sometimes fell asleep on the sofa together, naturally tended to be rather equal in terms of who planned what. And yeah, sometimes there were nights where they were just too utterly knackered to go anywhere and it did end up taking place from their living room, but even then they made a night of it. They spent time with one another, rather than just happening to hang out in the same room at the same time, doing their own separate thing. But with this? With this, Draco insisted he had it all planned out, and that she didn't need to worry about reciprocating by finding something to fill little corners of time here and there.
And he did. Every hour of every day seemed accounted for, but cleverly accounted for. There wasn't time to grow bored or listless, but nor did she feel like she was being herded through a series of events on a list by a harried teacher who'd been put in charge of an overpacked school trip.
It began, in a very understated manor, with a private tour of the Palace of Versailles. During which Draco sniffed at the interior design, and declared that Malfoy Manor had more history behind it. Marilyn didn't doubt that, but she also suspected that Versailles' own history of beheadings and poisonings and god only knew what else was likely a great deal cheerier.
They stayed the night in Paris, and moved onto Italy afterwards – Venice first, where they had dinner in the same little restaurant they'd eaten in on their first official date, and then to Rome, where they saw an opera, and ate gelato by the Trevi Fountain as though it wasn't winter.
Things continued in that manner – places from their past interspersed with places they'd never been before. The spot in the woods near Hogsmeade with the view of Hogwarts castle where he'd asked her to be his girlfriend, where they drank hot chocolate and reminisced on that night, followed by Belgian waffles in Bruges. A broom ride around the islands where they'd taken their 'honeymoon' (this time with less swearing, threats, and general terror on Marilyn's part), and then a night in a German Wizarding bed and breakfast that happened to operate from a medieval castle.
There was a wander through salt flats in Bolivia which, at night, reflected the sky at their feet until it looked like they were walking through stars rather than on land. If she was being honest, she really thought he was going to propose then. Throughout this – all of this, over the days and days that he'd so meticulously planned out, and in secret no less, because she'd known nothing of it until they were quite literally leaving – he'd been his usual snarky self. It wasn't like he'd been fidgety or nervous, or blushing and stammering his way through the days and the evenings.
The only notable thing about his demeanour was that he'd been in an exceptionally good mood the entire time…and he just kept looking at her in a way that seemed to have very little to do with whatever look she'd chosen for each occasion. For the first couple of days, he only did it when her back was turned – and she therefore only knew, because she'd turn to him mid-sentence and find her mind wiped clean of whatever it was she'd intended to say, washed away by the sheer adoration she saw on his face.
Draco Malfoy was nothing if not in control of himself – of what he said, what he did, and what his face gave away. So either his feelings were so strong that he could not do that, or he had no wish to do that. Marilyn couldn't decide which possibility knocked the wind from her lungs more. The more the days went on, the more activities they wandered their way through, laughing and flirting and unable to stop touching one another all the way through – a hand at her hip, her head resting against his shoulder, her fingertips toying with his – the more he stopped hiding that look for when she wasn't gazing at him. She'd make a joke, even a very stupid one that she barely found funny herself, and it would be there. By the end, she didn't even need to speak for it to appear.
And that night on the salt flats, surrounded by stars every which way they looked, the look didn't seem to leave his face once. Not even as he leaned in close, kissed her, and then remained close afterwards. She'd been sure, she'd been so sure, that he was about to follow up by getting down on one knee – even going as far as to worry about how the saltwater at their feet might make his trousers uncomfortable for the rest of the night. But her worrying was for naught. He remained standing, and he murmured to her that they'd best be going to where it was they were staying for the night.
That destination ended up being London – a fact that had her laughing at first, because she'd just finished up her season there. The laughter didn't last when he brought her to the exact same suite they'd stayed in on their first trip away together, in which they'd slept together for the first time. Something they very faithfully recreated…albeit without the awkwardness and the fumbling that was always fated to go into any couple's first time together.
And after that? After that, he brought them home. Marilyn was surprised, but she wasn't disappointed. She refused to be disappointed. She wasn't going to be the girl who crapped all over an amazing series of dates just because they didn't culminate in bit of arbitrary jewellery. She meant it, too. They were already married as far as the law was concerned, and they already lived like they were married now. What would it change?
It was just a bit confusing. The new places, combined with the walk down memory lane of all of the old places they'd already been over the course of their relationship and the milestones that relationship contained. It had all felt like it was building up to something, and then it simply…had not. And that didn't feel much like Draco. It felt too clumsy, too un-deliberate. Unless she'd been misreading the whole thing in her own mind? She didn't know. Maybe.
But she was glad to be home, and she was even gladder to have been treated to the amazing holiday he'd so painstakingly orchestrated. How she'd ever make it up to him she had no idea, but she'd surely think of something.
Although, on their first night back, she did question whether she'd even want to when he woke her up at two in the morning, fully dressed, and demanded that she put her clothes on and follow him.
"What's wrong?" she mumbled, too attached to her duvet and her pillow to even consider removing herself from either.
Had he even gone to bed? He was dressed differently than he'd been before she passed out – in one of his smart black suits that he wore on his off-days more than he accepted anything actually comfortable or, god forbid, something with an elastic waistband. His hair was neatly combed, he appeared perfectly wide awake, with nothing about him suggesting he'd slept, or even wished to sleep.
"Nothing – come on, get dressed. I want to show you something."
If it wasn't for everything he'd done before this, she probably would have given him an earful. Then again, the look on his face also had her holding her tongue, even in her half-asleep tiredness. It wasn't that soft, loving look anymore – no, it was one of smug determination. And she knew better by now than to argue with him when he got that look about him.
All of their travels had come with a multitude of different climates, some colder than York, and others much warmer. Because of the constant change, her hometown didn't have that typical post-holiday feeling of being much too cold to bear. The chill bit at her hands and her neck through her clothing – simple jeans, a jumper, and her winter coat – but that could be chalked up to her half-asleep haze more than anything else as she followed Draco through the snow-clad streets that led towards the perfectly picturesque town centre.
Plenty of the streets reminded her of Diagon Alley now that she'd seen it. Draco had even confided in her that he'd thought the same thing when he first came here – that was what had him lingering, that very first night all those years ago. It was familiar enough to be comforting, without all of the distrustful stares that came with his being in Wizarding spaces, especially back then. The stares still happened now, but they weren't quite so furious now that he'd redeemed himself by flinging himself in front of the Killing Curse for a Muggle. Well, not unless it was blood purists offering the stares. In those cases, he returned them. And if Marilyn was in the right (or perhaps the wrong) mood, she'd openly call it out.
Finally, they came to a stop in the open space before the York Minster. The streets were utterly empty thanks to the time of night, and their footprints were the only ones in the freshly fallen snow that blanketed everything, making it look new and different, while muting all ambient noise until she felt like she was standing in a snapshot, still and frozen in time.
"I don't think they're open for tours at this hour," she whispered conspiratorially to him as they stared up at the cathedral.
Draco slowed to a stop at her back, his arms wrapping around her from behind.
With the snow everywhere, against the starry backdrop, it looked like it belonged in a snow globe.
"I don't want to go inside," he said quietly, leaning down to murmur into her ear. "I wanted to come here. Right here. The final stop on this little historical tour we've been on."
"Where we first met," she commented softly.
"Mm. Not quite Versailles, or Rome, or Bavaria…nor a tropical paradise…but I think I prefer it to all the places we've been this last week or two."
Turning, she went to make a joke – to ask if he'd invited her would-be stalker along for a reunion, just to really bring back the memories. But when she did, she found him kneeling, an ornate diamond ring offered up in a box far newer than what it contained. It was the Malfoy ring. He'd described it to her once, after their fake wedding, hand-waving it away that any of his old lot that saw the ring she wore wasn't the ring would chalk it up to his parents' disapproval rather than their marriage being for show.
What he'd done to get it from them, she had no idea. Although it did explain the warming between he and his mother, even if his father had not spoken to him since…well. Since nothing she wanted to think about now.
Draco knelt there, on one knee, holding the ring out, and Marilyn stared at him wide-eyed, feeling very much like she wasn't in her own body. It was difficult to say how long passed, but certainly long enough for his knee to either get very cold or very sore, for he raised one pale eyebrow.
"Well?" he asked – the smile on his face taking any bite from his tone.
"You…" she had to pause to find her voice again before she continued. "You have to ask it."
"I think it's perfectly clear what I'm asking, Baxter. I'm kneeling on the ground in front of you. It's a rather distinctive position for a man to be in."
"I don't know, you might be asking to tie my shoelaces."
"You're wearing boots, and they have zips."
"That's why I'm confused by the offer."
How she was joking when her heart was in her throat and her hands were shaking, she didn't know. And it was daft, because hadn't she just been thinking about how their getting married would change nothing, technically speaking? How they already lived like a married couple, and how she already knew damn well that she wanted to spend the rest of her life, and then some, with him and that he felt the same way about her? Still, all of it seemed to fade away into the background as he now made a point of saying that.
His gaze lowered for a moment as he breathed a laugh, the first sign of his nerves as he shook his head and then looked at her ruefully…despite the smile that was lighting up his face.
"Marilyn Malfoy," she laughed at the use of the surname, and at how he loved her wearing it too much to part with it even as he asked her this – although the laugh was choked by a sob, "will you marry me? Again?"
She gave her answer before he was even done asking.
A/N: If there's anything from Draco and Marilyn's life together that you have an absolute burning desire to see, and that you think I haven't really touched upon yet, before I call time on this series, please feel free to let me know.
I did have a list of requests but I think it was lost to my extensive Google Docs clear out a couple of months ago, so I'm very sorry about that!
IG – miotasach
Tumblr – esta-elavaris