middaeg | [Open] I was a heavy heart to carry

Entry tags:

[Open] I was a heavy heart to carry

Who: Newt Scamander(

newtralize) and You!
When: Throughout the month of August
Where: Various Locations
What: Quests, Magic, Canon Update, and a heavy dose of sad.
Warnings: Canon Update to end of CoG and will include mentions/talk of death.

I. Arwel's Favors
[One of the upside of having his niffler was for the array of items that the small creature brought back to the house to outfit the new burrow it was making for itself. Of course, a lot of these items weren't well suited for the creature's burrow and eventually abandoned. Either way, there were an assortment of items that he could drop off. Scales and baubles and bells collected from Harry, who isn't too pleased to have some of his treasures taken.

Newt leaves the establishment with the scarf tucked around his neck before taking a walk around the town, not aware of the effects the scarf might have.]

II. Lunasa Ceremonies
[Newt was fond of dancing, but he was far less willing to dance this time around after his rather mortifying display before with the love potions and all.

He had only meant to watch the merriment (he enjoys people watching), but he finds himself suddenly being dragged into the middle and pushed into another person.] Ah wait- [Too late. It seems you're stuck dancing with the man who awkwardly is staring down at your feet and not your face.] I, oh Merlin, I'm quite sorry. I-

[At least he isn't drunk on some potion this time, but this is really not his element.]

III. Lunasa Catwalk
Oh, absolutely not. No.

[He'll dance with strangers and get pulled into their ceremonies. What he isn't going to do? Be a model for someone and walk some catwalk where everyone can stare at him. That is possibly...the last thing he would ever do willingly. Which is to say, it seems like he isn't getting much of a choice. The young fashion designers are just shoving clothes into his arms to change into.]

I- No- I didn't sign up for this.

[Help...]

IV. Mirror, Mirror (August 10th)
[It's early morning when he finds himself pulled towards the Looking-Glass House. He never had a strong care of going to it. Even with new people arriving, he wandered to the Coven moreso than the place filled with mirrors.

Yet, he found himself drawn to it and wanders into the same room where he had found himself arriving months ago. He places a hand on the mirror he had walked through out of; curious as to why he felt pulled towards it. It happens in a flash that he almost wouldn't have believed what had shown in the mirror. He would, if it didn't weigh so heavy on him immediately.

The return to England to Paris to Hogwarts.

He backs away from the mirror as though it had burned him. He felt lightheaded. Breathless. Newt stares at the mirror before looking at the room before looking back at the mirror.

Eventually he leaves though and wanders through the town listlessly for a bit. Newt can be found throughout the city. His usual haunts, but there's a certain sluggishness in his step. A faraway look in his gaze as though he's not really focusing ahead of him and completely lost in a turmoil of thoughts.]

V. Pile's Plea (August 10th and beyond)
[Note: Newt is canon updated at this point]

[The loose pygmy jacks are a good distraction for Newt. He's a common face at Pile's Petagorium, unsurprising no one.

He's got an armful of the small creatures as he's running down a street following another one of the small rabbit-like beasts. Chasing slippery little creatures is somewhat of a normalcy for Newt. He had chased after his niffler countless times that chasing these little guys is almost refreshing. Though, the quantity of them is probably the most tiring part. With the nifflers, he had only five at most to chase after. With the pygmy jacks, he isn't sure if it'll ever end.]

Oh, come on now. [Weaving through people with furry animals in tow is also a little troublesome.] They weren't kidding when they said they weren't familiar with the city. I think I've found them in every corner of the city. [The ones already in Newt's possession look up at Newt innocently enough.]

VI. Wilde Quests
A
[He lets out a bit of a yawn before rubbing his eyes. Surveillance wasn't usually an issue for him. He had done plenty enough stakeouts in the past, but sleep had been fairly difficult as of late.

There was action here and there, which was enough for him to keep going, but enough downtime that it let him to his thoughts too long. He held his wand loosely in his right hand as he watched the witches work on their teleportation spells before glancing around him.

While Newt was usually a quiet man, he seemed quieter than usual.]

B
[Supply runs was better to keep him busy and being quiet, quick and undetectable was definitely a skill Newt had honed over his travels.] This way.

[He speaks in a hushed, quiet tone as he gestures his partner to follow him. He's equipped well enough to fight if they had to fight, but Newt would prefer getting through this without any fighting. He really had enough fighting for a little while.]

VII. Wildcard
[If none of these work, feel free to PM me or message me via plurk

rakuranger. Drop me a separate starter or I'm more than happy to write a starter that works for you!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He jolts out of his daze when the other yells, pulled out of his stupor. He glances at the other; rather shocked at the sudden exclamation. Perhaps...he had overdone it a bit, but he didn't expect the other to panic.

Newt lets out a shaky breath. "I- I'm fine. Really," Newt says softly. "Sorry, I- I'm not sure what happened." No, he knows what happened. That was a lie. Newt knew that he had overdone it, but he wasn't about to admit that to the other yet. His intention was to just keep himself busy and give the other space before perhaps breaching a difficult topic. Funny. His intention was to not worry Theseus, but he's pretty sure that he had just done the opposite of his intentions because now Theseus was hovering over him. If he wasn't mistaken, the other looked much like he was expecting the worst even.

"I'll be fine. Just- I need a moment," Newt says as he tries to offer the other a comforting smile. Even Newt's smiles have been more brittle as of late. "You don't have to worry, Theese."

Newt was good at deflecting. He wasn't very good at lying.

Theseus' face relaxes only marginally, but it's clear by the worry in his eyes and the fact he's not letting Newt go, that he's going to remain by his side for a while longer. If Newt was fine, he wouldn't just suddenly collapse onto the ground. He may play it off as no big deal, but Theseus isn't going to allow himself to be fooled by a few smiles and 'assurances' that his brother's really fine.

In fact, his grip on Newt's back only tightens when he realizes that Newt is trying to brush his well-being off in order to get Theseus to stop worrying.

"If you wanted me to stop worrying, you shouldn't have collapsed in the first place." Maybe he just let it slip a little that Theseus hasn't stopped worrying ever since their encounter with the moles, but he's not ashamed to let Newt know that he's concerned about his health.

"You can tell me if your injury is bothering you, Newt." He swallows audibly, the memory of Newt protecting him and his blood spraying all over the ground-- the infection taking root, still fresh in his mind. But Theseus forcefully shoves that memory back and he's glad that his hand is gripped into a fist behind Newt's back, just so that the other won't notice his hand shaking from the memory.

"...Or is it something else?"

He doesn't know how to respond at first. Theseus had got him there. He shouldn't have collapsed in the first place and he can't fault the other for worrying. While everything after being injured was a haze, he can remember bits. In particular, the look in Theseus' eyes and the way his brother's voice quivered while being brought back to recover.

"No, it- I've had worse." Wait. That...that is probably the wrong thing to say. Also, he can't actually think of an injury that was as terrible as what he had felt. "Well, maybe I haven't, but it isn't bothering me." That, that was more of something honest. Newt's pain tolerance was fairly good, so it was a mild discomfort. Nothing that was worth telling the other it bothered him.

"Something else? What- What else could it be? There's nothing else." Was that convincing? Please tell him that was convincing.

Theseus isn't entirely sure if Newt's speaking the truth about his injury and maybe it's worth double checking again, even though he's certain that the infection is gone. The healers made sure about that part and he's spent days hovering over his injured brother's bedside... so maybe Newt has just been putting to much strain on it? It's possible. In that case, he needs to be in bed, resting. Leave the overworking to Theseus.

At least hearing Newt talk has relieved some of the panic taking root in Theseus' heart, enough for the Auror to take a few deep breaths, and think slightly more clearly about this.

"Please don't lie to me." His voice is a little testy, but still mostly filled with concern for him. It's obvious to Theseus that Newt's lying and while his brother is many things, a good liar is not one of them. Even if it's not his injury that's the source of Newt's pain, it's evident that something has been hurting him and Theseus wants to know. It's still important enough for him to know.

He keeps his head down and won't look at the other. Theseus was right, of course. If there was someone who could easily tell that he was lying, it would be his brother. Newt wasn't great at it to begin with, but Theseus had always been able to tell when things were on his mind ever since he was young.

It isn't hard to tell anyways. Even with his injuries and overexerting himself, the magizoologist looked wearier than some pain. A certain sadness, perhaps, that was unmistakable. If Theseus can see the look in his eyes, it would be much like the look in Theseus own.

He doesn't have to look though because Newt speaks again after a few minutes. A few minutes was a long time not to say anything. He just wasn't sure what to say, but he guesses there was no use beating around the bush.

"I-" Its all a bit of a mess in his head. The events jumbled together of his time in Aefenglom and what had come to pass back home. "I miss Leta." He looks at the other. "You miss her too, don't you?" Well, perhaps that was a big vague, but he was sure that Theseus would understand what he meant.

That neither wanted to say she was truly gone out loud, but understanding this feeling of loss that won't ever leave them.

The minutes seem to last forever, the silence almost feeling never ending, but Theseus still keeps quiet, waiting for Newt to respond to him. He's willing to wait as long as Newt needs it, because that's what he's here for. He has no doubt that he's failed to be a good brother to him in the past, not being there when he probably needed support because he was off doing work or some other bloody reason.

But after Paris, and the fact they're together in this city, Theseus wants to be here for Newt whenever he needs him. It's not about making up for the past; he just wants Newt to know that he's not alone-- that his family is with him at the very least to help burden the weight on his shoulders.

He can be strong for Newt when everything just becomes overwhelming. Theseus is fine, he can handle--

Except.

Leta.

"I-I..." He meets Newt's eyes for a moment, the grief that Theseus has been burying since her death suddenly pulled up, aided by the look his brother is now giving him. He thought he'd have more time... when did Newt find out? How did he find out? But Theseus is unable to articulate any of that as tears build up in his eyes and he hastily looks away, his voice too choked for him to say anything. After the rally, he was able to keep some composure because of the adrenaline running through him, but now that it's gone and days have passed, knowing that Leta is really gone, it's become near impossible to keep that posture.

His hand drops from behind Newt, and Theseus keeps his eyes directed to the ground, but he doesn't move from him otherwise. Newt can probably tell that he's shaking lightly, like he's trying to keep himself from outright falling apart in front of him.

The magizoologist didn't have particularly healthy ways of coping. While he certainly didn't wallow in self pity or sorrow, he also didn't take the time to let himself grieve proper over it. He kept them close to his heart like a wound that wouldn't heal and focused on moving forward, without actually being able to do so.

Seeing Theseus' anguish is gut wrenching. It's a reminder that his brother had lost potentially someone who he had considered the love of his life. That he wouldn't get to see Leta walk down the aisle and he wouldn't get to make vows to her. To kiss her again.

He could ignore the empty feeling he held himself for the moment. His brother had deserved better than the lot he had been given.

Newt turns his body towards the other before wrapping his arms around Theseus. It's awkward and stiff and very much a hug one would expect from the awkward man. Still, there's warmth and care in it. That Newt's love for his brother was worth his fumbling to try and comfort the other physically. "It's okay, Theese. We won't very much have the time back at home to mourn. We can take our time here," Newt says softly. "You don't have to be strong."

As much as Theseus did enjoy the weddings that took place earlier in the month, each and every ceremony was a pained reminder of the love that he lost. It was truly difficult to keep up his normal persona during that time, but he mostly managed. The idea of letting strangers see him break down was something he didn't want at all, although he allowed himself to quietly mourn Leta whenever no one was around, including Newt.

But evidently, it hasn't been enough. Because he can still feel himself shaking, his breathing becoming more labored as he thinks about the day that will never come for Leta and him. They had their wedding and date all planned, the cake, the guests, everything. She would've been the most beautiful bride and....

Theseus tightly shuts his eyes and wraps his arms around Newt, not caring in the slightest how awkward the hug might be. He grips his brother tightly, taking in a few deep breaths, as if he's trying his best to keep his last remaining composure, but--

'you don't have to be strong'

A choked sound comes from Theseus, unable to hold anything back anymore, before he finally begins to quietly cry against Newt.

Seeing the other fall apart in front of him was something he thought he'd never see. Something he didn't want to see. For as long as he remembered, Theseus had been a pillar of strength. A man who stood tall. Someone he had looked up to growing up. While their relationship has changed since he was a child, that didn't change the fact that Theseus was his brother and he wanted the other to be happy.

And it makes him feel more foolish for being so bitter. All the times that he had been invited to dinner and made up an excuse or declined. Everytime he had a chance to spend time with them and he never took it.

He tightly hugs the other and lets Theseus cry on him. He had to be strong for his brother. The other had always tried to be this strong pillar of support, so it was time for someone else to be strong for him. He pats Theseus' back a bit. He isn't sure what to say to the other. What was there to say? Leta was gone. What words could he possibly offer to his brother?

It hasn't been too long since Theseus let himself cry against Newt, but the recent events in Paris has really been the only time he let himself be comforted by his brother like this. Not even during the war or after it did he let himself fall apart, needing to either be strong for the other soldiers or wizards participating or just finding himself alone in his home with a bottle of firewhiskey. That always worked, until he threw himself at his job as an Auror, until the sounds of bombs finally stopped ringing in his ears.

But this has really been the first time he lost someone that he deeply loved. Someone that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And now such a dream is impossible. Falling in love with another person seems far too much right now.

While Theseus doesn't say anything to Newt, he lets himself shake and bury his face against his shoulder, knowing that he's getting his brother's shoulder soaked with his tears. But right now, he simply doesn't know what else to do. He can't just get up and chase Grindelwald, so the finality of Leta's death is fully crashing down on him.

He can't even bury her body back home.

"...She deserved far better, Newt." Theseus finally begins to say, although he's not quite sure where he's going with this.

The younger Scamander kind of awkwardly rubs Theseus' back in what he hopes is a comforting manner. This really wasn't his expertise at all. He didn't know how to physically comfort another. Hell, he isn't sure he knows how to emotionally comfort another when the other is his brother and because his brother had watched his wife-to-be die by the hands of a cruel and merciless dark wizard.

He's trying though, he really is. He hated to see his brother like this. Wished that more could be done, but what really could be done? Leta was gone and you can't bring back the dead.

"Yes. She did." Newt can agree to that. Leta's life had always been plagued with a certain unfairness since she was young. He feels like she never truly got to a point where things became better for her. It was on its way there, certainly, but it never got to that point. "We'll make sure her death wasn't in vain, Theseus. We will," Newt promises. He won't say how important it was for himself to make sure those words rang true. How important she had been to him too.

It's enough just to have Newt with him, well, it's the most anyone can do for Theseus at the current time. He's not going to be over Leta's death anytime soon, perhaps never, wanting to cling to her memory as much as possible. Some part of him knows that's probably not the most healthy way of dealing with loss, but Theseus may never forgive himself for failing to protect her, failing to get her in time before Grindelwald was able to kill her. He wants to remember Leta when she was full of life, teasing him, and not her last moments during the rally.

Sometimes it's easy, most of the time it's difficult.

Eventually, however, Theseus pulls away from Newt, looking at his brother with a tear stained face and red eyes. He nods mutely to his conviction to bring Grindelwald to justice, and Theseus rubs his eyes a little as he tries to control his breathing. He's not exactly better, but there's some weight off his shoulders.

There's a few moments of silence before he decides to bring up something that he's been meaning to say to Newt.

"...I'm sorry. For not telling you this sooner." At first, he doesn't meet the other's eyes, but eventually Theseus looks at Newt with a grieving, but genuine expression. While he's still unaware how close Leta and Newt were in the past, he knows that the two were at least friends in Hogwarts.

Newt offers the other the smallest of smiles before digging into his pockets for a handkerchief for the other. He holds out the soft piece of cloth to the other.

"Sorry for what? It isn't as though telling me would have done anything, really. I'm not upset about that. I would have known eventually, which I have. Telling me, I think, wouldn't really prepare me anymore or any less," Newt replies softly. "There's no need to apologize."

He doesn't think it would matter. The way that he had witnessed it and how it settled on him. The heavy feeling would feel no less heavy. He wouldn't regret his actions of not spending more time with her when he had the chance any less.

"I'm sorry if anything. This has been weighing on you heavily since you've arrived here, hasn't it?" He's more concerned about his brother, who had held this secret close to his heart.

He gratefully takes the handkerchief and lightly wipes his face, trying to get his feelings in order and relay what he wants to say to Newt-- why he's apologizing. Even if Newt isn't hurt or upset by this secret, Theseus still feels the need to explain himself... and maybe just talk about Leta in a way that the both of them would want to remember her by.

"Because Leta was important to you too. You were close friends. ...She cared a lot about you, Newt."

Theseus remembers Leta being just as disappointed as him when Newt declined any offers to join them for dinner, but he doesn't bring that up. There's no need. Why anguish for time that cannot be changed? It'll only hurt them both.

But Theseus shakes his head at Newt's apology, feeling that there's definitely nothing his brother needs to apologize for. "It has, but... I didn't want you to worry about me. At least, that's what I told myself. Think part of it was just my inability to acknowledge that she's really gone."

If he didn't talk about Leta's death, he doesn't have to recall her disintegrating-- remembering her final words to him.

Newt feels a pang of guilt. Regret. Yes, he knew Leta cared deeply of him. What Theseus didn't know was the complexity of their relationship. How Newt had fancied her for so long and that they weren't quite just friends through school. It was a right mess and he wasn't sure what to call it, but it wasn't merely just a friendship.

A detail that he didn't think he should bring up at the moment. The last thing that he needed to do was tell his brother that he had once fancied his fiance. "Yes. I know," Newt says softly. "I-" He really should have spent time with her when he had the chance. Be less bitter about how things had fallen apart.

Even if he knew that she had hurt him quite a bit back then. Something he hadn't told anyone. Something maybe only Queenie knew merely because she had been able to get into his head without even trying. The problems with natural Legilimens.

"Well, it's hard. To accept someone is gone," Newt says. They had experienced loss, but not like this. "I think it's understandable. To need time for this. We can get through it. Together."

At the very least. He wanted Theseus to know he would be there for him. To mend their relationship.

Newt tries to offer the other a small smile. "I imagine she would tease us for taking this long, really. Took us long enough," he says with the softest of laughs.

For a long time, Theseus thought he was rather familiar with death, both from being involved with the great war and chasing down dark wizards with other Aurors. From the countless soldiers that were gunned down, to the wizards that were killed by deadly curses, Theseus is definitely no stranger to it. Sure, it never got easier to see someone die, and even now, it hurts to think about the people that he couldn't save or protect, but seeing Leta murdered... it crushed him in ways he didn't expect.

He hides his eyes with the handkerchief and nods to Newt's support, taking a few more breaths to regather himself once more.

"Call us a couple of gits. Wholly right on that-- but she's never been wrong."

"Well, you're definitely a git. I suppose she finds it charming though. Gits."

His mouth quirks in a crooked smile. "I think maybe that's enough for today though." He's sure that they both have a lot to talk about, but Newt was tired and Newt needed time with these things. Even with Theseus, Newt was very private about his woes. Had been since Hogwarts when he started being more distant towards others.

"You wouldn't be opposed to getting a pot started." Not that Newt has to ask. Seeing as he had collapsed; he imagines that he would have to fight the other for Theseus to let him actually help with anything at this point. And Newt has to admit he had really pushed himself a tad more than he meant to. Or should have.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Open] I was a heavy heart to carry

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject