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Graeme Dorny ([info]graeme_cracker) wrote in [info]valesco,
@ 2010-08-30 14:17:00


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Entry tags:giada dorny, graeme dorny

Giada
For Graeme Dorny, the last couple of weeks – no, the past month felt like an eternity. He had lost track of time, mainly because he had been kept locked away like some animal, unable to keep track of when it was night or day because there were no windows where he was. The only light he ever saw came from under the door, and that wasn’t even sunlight. No, it was light from the tip of a Death Eater’s wand, whenever one would approach where he was being kept. There were others, where he was…but no one he knew. All he knew was that they were scared, and that the monsters who were holding them captive were not fond of overhearing them talking to one another. They learned the hard way, and their numbers dwindled down to nearly nothing over time. 6 people, at least, had been crammed in such a small area, but only 2 had been lucky enough, if you could even call it lucky, to be rescued.

Graeme still didn’t know the woman’s name…all he knew was that her husband had been literally ripped out of her hands and taken somewhere the very first night they had been brought to wherever it was they were. The sound of her sobbing and the threats that were sent in her direction by cowards in masks stayed with him…probably always would. He just kept imaging the unbearable pain that would have come along with having that happen to Giada. Every time he heard the woman sob, he heard her…he saw her face, even in the darkness, and it was the hope of seeing her again that probably kept him stable – or, as stable as one could be while being chained up in a dungeon. He was completely useless, without a wand…and while he wanted to play the part of hero, and do something, he couldn’t. He could barely move, let alone try to do anything more. He couldn’t be reckless…he had Giada to think about. He had his unborn child to think about.

Still…he felt like a coward. He felt like he should have at least tried to do something. All he did was sit there, and pray to whatever God was listening that he would get out of there alive – that he’d be able to see his wife, and would be there when their baby was born. The day that door opened, and he saw someone other than a Death Eater standing there, the young man thought he was hallucinating. He watched as the magical bounds that held him where he was were undone, and cooperated completely with this stranger who had come to his rescue. He was weak – malnourished, pale, and tired - but adrenaline is the most powerful thing in the world, and he did what he needed to so that he could get to safety. Of course, once there was nothing more for him to do, the poor man collapsed.

When he woke up, he was in a hospital bed. He was bleary eyed, and the simple task of lifting his hand to rub at his forehead made his entire body ache. He leaned his head back onto the pillow, his eyes still closed as he let out a nasal sigh. The blinds were closer next to his bed, but he could tell, for the first time in a month, that it was daytime. He didn’t even know it had been a month, yet. All he knew was that he was out of there.

The only thing that stole his attention completely was when he lowered his hand to feel someone else’s catch it on the way down to the mattress. Blue eyes blinked against the brightness of the room and traveled over to see the beautiful woman sitting beside him…his wife. He wondered how long she had been sitting there…probably since he had been brought in, however long that was. Even though he was still weak, his hand gripped tighter around hers, and he swallowed roughly around the dryness of his throat, wincing slightly because of how much discomfort the smallest of actions brought him.

“Giada…” He managed to get out her name, but his voice raspy and hardly audible.



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[info]shelovesyou
2010-08-31 01:21 am UTC (link)
She was pregnant, she needed to stay calm, she was carrying their baby, she needed to relax. The mantra had been going through Giada's head since she'd realized that Graeme wasn't just lost in the madness, that he wasn't stuck some place, that he wasn't just---late. When Graeme hadn't returned home that first night of the blackout, Giada had---it was such a blur, she had been in the crowds trying to get to the Ministry to give his name, a picture, anything that they could do, stuck in the hoard of people trying to help their loved ones and...it was only by unfortunate luck (an oxymoron if you'd ever heard one) that her brother had been doing the same thing, for his wife.

Patrick had gotten her home. Well, to his home. Even though he was as distraught as she was, somehow he'd managed to keep her calm and stop her from completely panicking. Maybe Graeme just got lost in the hustle, maybe he was at St. Mungo's, unidentified. Those logical, Ravenclaw-like thoughts kept Giada calm for the first few days. She was an eternal optimist, it was in her nature to think of the best. But...when they days continued to pass, when the papers were putting Graeme's face and name onto their pages, she grew unable to keep her positive outlook. Blame it on the hormones or blame it simply on how the war had affected nearly everyone in her life, but Giada had begun to lose hope of ever seeing her husband again.

She felt terrible for it. As she grabbed onto Graeme's hand, she felt so, so bad for losing faith. How could she have given up so easily, when---if she'd honestly believed that Graeme was never coming back, why hadn't she done anything but be sad and cry? If she really believed that her husband was dead and gone, Giada would have hoped that she would have been able to conjure more energy than that, that she would've---fought back and---

"You don't--have to talk," she said, her voice wavering. Giada hadn't cried since they contacted her about Graeme, Friday night. She had just been so overwhelmed with relief and worry--would he be okay? Would he ever be the same? Crying didn't seem very important, right now. Giada stood and moved closer, grabbing his hand with both of hers, bringing his fist to her lips to press a light kiss to his knuckles, "You need to rest."

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[info]graeme_cracker
2010-09-01 01:35 pm UTC (link)
Graeme couldn’t even explain the feeling of overwhelming relief that flooded over him when he heard her voice again. Even though it was a sound he would never forget, and a sound that had kept him grounded for however long he had been gone, actually being able to hear it and not just imagine it was just…it made it real.

He didn’t want to let go of her just yet – he didn’t want to let go of her until it was absolutely necessary, and even then he’d probably try to hold on longer - his eyes only shutting again when he felt her lips against the back of his fingers, re-opening them in order to focus down on their hands, letting out a long breath before those crystalline blues - surrounded by tones of purples, and hints of sickening green that made up the bruises that were there – met hers. He could tell something wasn’t right. Obviously things weren’t going to be right with her, but something told him that she had been through her own hell while he had been gone. He knew how many people she had lost, over the years…so he could only imagine what she must have been thinking, let alone feeling when she didn’t have any idea where he was.

"I have plenty of time to rest..."

There was a pause, where he just looked at her. He had memorized every single one of her features in his mind, making it exceptionally easy for him to see her clearly even in the darkness of wherever he had been being kept...but yet, she looked so much more beautiful every time he saw her. Especially now. When he spoke, his words were barely above a whisper.

"I've missed you, Gia..."

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[info]shelovesyou
2010-09-01 02:47 pm UTC (link)
She had to force a smile down at her husband. Giada never dreamed that she would have to fake being happy for Graeme; even with all the stress they'd gone through this first year and a half of their marriage (not even--), she'd never had to fake how happy she was to be with him. She wasn't mad at him, she'd never have a good enough to be mad at Graeme...right now, though, she was angry with herself. It was her fault that he was being beaten to a pulp, kidnapped and held hostage--they wouldn't have cared about him if he hadn't been married to a pureblood, if he hadn't gotten her pregnant and ruined a perfectly pure bloodline. The guilt inside of her--it would never go away. No matter what Graeme, or Ally, or Patrick or the authorities told her---Giada knew that the sole reason he'd been taken and tortured was because she hadn't been able to push away her feelings and just---deal.

"I've missed you too," she choked out, her thoughts getting the best of her. Giada sat on the edge of the bed and moved her free hand to gently touch Graeme's face. Merlin---this was unbearable. She would go back in time and change everything if Graeme could live a happy, pain-free life. How many more times were they going to get lucky? The war was going through all kind of violent levels, it wasn't going to get better. They couldn't just go back to how they were, they'd---his name had been in all the papers, and he'd escaped? The death eaters probably wanted Graeme dead for sure now, for embarrassing them, for---Giada dropped her chin as she tried to breath, her mantra failing her at the moment. "It's---I'm---so, so--sorry, Graeme!"

Giada's shoulder began to shake as she started to cry. This was never going to end. He was a target because of her. How selfish was she? How selfish. If she'd listened to her parents, Graeme would be fine and healthy, not fearing for his life because of some stupid girl like her!

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