#orion you sneaksy bugger

[carewyncromwell]

[Previous cliffhanger-esque part here! // Full tag here!]

Orion Amari stared at the tiny ginger-haired girl in the bed, stunned. Within seconds, she’d leapt out of bed, slipping a pair of slippers on and snatching a worn, embroidered handkerchief off her nightstand. She approached him quickly, the hankie in her left hand, and Orion subconsciously took a step back. Hook used one of those once, to cover one of the Lost Kids’ noses and to knock him out with chloroform -- was this girl with eyes like the pirate captain’s trying to drug him? 

Instead of trying to grab him and put it up to his nose, though, the girl called “Wyn” offered it to him. Orion stared down at it blankly. 

“To wipe your eyes,” Carewyn prompted him, holding the hankie out more insistently. “Please don’t cry anymore.” 

Orion straightened up noticeably. 

“I was not crying,” he said at once, his misty voice touched with only the faintest edge. “’Twas the mist of moonbeams clinging to my eyes.”

Carewyn blinked. “The mist of moonbeams?”

“Why yes,” said Orion, his face spreading into a cool, pleasant smile. “You would know the feeling too, if you ever danced with a moonbeam.”

In contrast to his owner, Shadow skipped over toward the girl, landing on the wall behind her so that he could rest his arms upon her shadow’s head, and then his head on top of his arms. Carewyn glanced over her shoulder at him and then back up at the strange boy before her, and her blue eyes sparkled with wry amusement. 

“Seems I was right, dear Shadow! Your owner is just as odd as you are!” 

She giggled behind her hand as she returned her handkerchief to her side table with the other. 

Orion cocked an eyebrow. “‘Dear Shadow?’”

He shot a glance at Merula, who was hiding behind the nearby teddy bear -- she’d ducked out of sight as soon as she and Orion had realized Carewyn was awake, and she looked even more distrustful of her than he’d initially felt. 

“Well, I had to call him something, while I looked after him today,” Carewyn said logically. “I might’ve called him by your name, had I known it, but since I didn’t, Shadow he became.”

She smiled up at Shadow still hovering over her in mid-air before shifting her smile over to the boy. 

“I’m Carewyn Cromwell,” she introduced herself politely. “What’s your name?”

“Orion Amari,” the boy replied.

Carewyn abruptly stuck out her hand -- Orion gave the slightest step back, not sure what she was doing.

“Oh, it’s all right!” said Carewyn quickly. “I want to give you a handshake, that’s all.”

Orion blinked slowly. “...All right, then.”

He extended his hand out as if to accept some sort of gift. Carewyn instead took hold of his hand and shook it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Orion Amari,” she said, her voice very firm and her smile very polite. 

She released his hand, leaving Orion to look down at it in a rather bemused way as she looked back up at Shadow. 

“And it’s very nice to meet you too, Orion Amari’s Shadow,” she added a bit more amiably. “I think I’ll just keep calling you ‘Shadow,’ though...since I can’t call you both ‘Orion’ at the same time.”

Shadow leaned his head sideways on top of his hands on top of Carewyn’s shadow’s head. Clearly he didn’t mind.

“My shadow seems to like you,” said Orion. His voice was very laid-back, but he considered her carefully. 

Carewyn smiled up at the shadow. 

“He is really a very sweet shadow,” she said kindly. “Though I reckon he’d be far happier, being with you again.”

Orion’s eyes darkened somewhat. “...Mm. Yes, it would restore balance to both of us, I should think.”

At this moment, Carewyn noticed the buttons and ribbons strewn across the floor. She looked back down at the soap in Orion’s hand, and her eyes gained a gleam of understanding. 

“Oh...” she whispered, her voice contorted with worry. “That’s why you were upset, isn’t it? You can’t get your shadow back on...”

She bent down to start picking the buttons and ribbons off the floor. Orion stood back and watched her gather them up and return them to the drawer in trips, rather than help her, his fingerless-gloved hands clasped in front of him. 

“Yes. My shadow feels like sheer fabric, to the touch, so one would think he could just be buttoned back on...but it seems these buttons don’t work properly.”

Carewyn blinked. Then she quickly suppressed a loud bout of giggling behind her hands. 

“What’s amusing?” asked Orion, confused. 

Carewyn fought to contain her amusement. “I’m sorry -- it’s just...you can’t button anything without sewing the buttons on first! Buttons need to be fastened on with a needle and some thread, in order to work!”

Orion frowned slightly, but not out of irritation -- instead he seemed almost curious. “Is that so?”

“Yes!” said Carewyn, biting her lip to try to hold in another giggle. “I have to sew buttons back on all the time -- Fred and George tend to lose them.”

“Really?”

Orion considered this, his unreadable black eyes darting from Carewyn to Merula, who was shaking her head and glaring in Carewyn’s direction from her spot in the pile of toys, and then finally at his shadow on the wall. Shadow was still resting his head and arms on top of Carewyn’s shadow in that oddly fond way. 

Then, looking like he came to a decision about something very quickly, he swept over to Carewyn -- but the movement wasn’t truly walking or running. Instead, within moments, he’d seemingly glided right over to her, though it was so fast Carewyn could’ve sworn she was seeing things. 

“Then you could sew my shadow back on for me,” he said, his face spread into a smile better suited to a mischievous cat. 

Carewyn gave a start. “Sew it on?”

“Yes,” Orion said plainly. “Sew it on like you do your buttons. Your buttons don’t come off your shirts, do they?”

“Well, no, not usually, but -- ”

“Well, then,” said Orion, as if that settled everything. 

He swept over to the bed and landed on top of it with his legs dangling off the edge. Once again Carewyn could’ve sworn his feet barely touched the floor -- she shook her head twice to make sure she was fully awake. 

“W-well, then nothing!” she objected, her voice becoming a bit higher in her throat despite herself. “Needles are very sharp! It would hurt an awful lot, if I tried to sew your shadow on you!”

“Pain is natural,” said Orion, nonplussed. “It does not frighten me.”

“Maybe, but you shouldn’t have to deal with pain if it isn’t necessary!”

“You don’t want Shadow to be stuck without an owner forever, do you?”

“No, but -- ”

“Then I would say it’s necessary.”

“But -- ” 

Carewyn looked incredibly hesitant. Her eyes fell away, drifting off into the far corner rather than looking at him. 

“ -- but I don’t want to hurt you,” she said at last, her voice very quiet but oddly forceful. 

“I won’t hold it against you,” Orion said patiently. 

Carewyn looked almost offended. “That doesn’t matter!”

“Why? It has to be done and I won’t be angry with you -- I’d be grateful, even. Why should you be upset?”

“Because I still hurt you!” she said hotly. “Yes, I might not know you at all, but you’re a person, aren’t you? You feel pain, and I don’t want to cause you pain! I don’t want to cause anybody else pain! Whether you or anyone else thinks it’s okay, I don’t think it’s okay...”

Still looking very reluctant, she crossed over to the table and fetched her sewing kit, bringing it back over to her bed where Orion sat waiting. She still couldn’t meet Orion’s eyes, her gaze somewhere on the armchair at the other end of the room. 

“And even if it is necessary, that doesn’t mean I won’t feel awful about it,” she mumbled. 

Despite herself, Carewyn couldn’t completely disguise the emotion in her voice. And how much emotion there was -- as if she were holding in an entire sea of it. Orion was used to high emotions in his Lost Kids -- goodness knows emotions ran high among children in general, and he as leader often had to give direction to it and put out fires -- but not quite like this. It made the girl’s pirate-like, almond-shaped blue eyes ripple like turbulent water, reflecting shame, guilt, pain, pity, sorrow, and kindness, all at once. It was like the thought of hurting another person was as painful to Carewyn as it would be, being injured herself.

Orion tilted his head slightly to the side, looking at her curiously as she brought the black thread into her mouth to wet it so she could thread the needle. 

He’d never seen a pirate’s eyes look like that before. 

“You have very odd standards, Carewyn Cromwell,” Orion said after a moment. 

Carewyn frowned. “‘Odd standards?’”

“Yes. I don’t reckon a bird could fly quite as high as them. I could, though, perhaps,” said Orion with a wry smile. 

Carewyn cocked her eyebrows as she picked up Orion’s foot in one hand, preparing to sew Shadow’s own shadowy foot to it. 

“My standards may be odd, but you are just odd, period,” she said very coolly. 

“Why, thank you,” said Orion, sounding just as cool in return. 

Sewing Orion’s shadow back on took some work, but Orion handled it like a champ. He didn’t cry and never complained, though he did have to close his eyes and try to meditate the majority of the time. Whenever he gave the slightest flinch, Carewyn would apologize several times over, no matter how much Orion tried to tell her it was okay. But at long last, after about twenty minutes, Orion and Shadow were reunited -- and Orion celebrated by soaring happily around the room. 

Needless to say, the sight of this boy actually flying around her, Charlie, and Bill’s share room took Carewyn completely aback. The sound of her surprised cry ended up waking both Charlie and Bill. The two boys probably would’ve immediately jumped the stranger who broke into their room and made Carewyn scream, but upon swarming around Carewyn protectively, both Weasley brothers instead found their mouths dropping open in amazement as they gawked up at the boy -- who could only be the bizarre shadow’s true owner -- floating up off the ground with apparent ease. 

“Whoa!” cried Charlie, delighted. “You -- you’re flying!”

Orion grinned from ear to ear, turning over in mid-air so that he was looking at Charlie upside down. “So I am.”

Bill’s eyes were very, very wide. “But -- but that’s -- ”

“Impossible?” finished Orion, his misty voice almost smug. “Oh, no. Not for me. Not where I’m from.”

Bill’s eyebrows knit together, faintly wary, but also intrigued despite himself. “...And where is that?”

Orion’s black eyes sparkled with wry amusement as they shifted over to Carewyn. “I think you already know the answer to that, Carewyn Cromwell.”

Carewyn’s eyes widened. They’d gained a bizarre light to them -- like a pair of awestruck stars.

“Neverland,” she breathed. 

Orion grinned. Carewyn covered her mouth with both hands, hardly daring to believe it. 

“Then...it’s real?” she whispered. 

“As real as I am,” said Orion. 

His grin grew that little bit broader, seeing how bright Carewyn’s eyes became, hearing this. It made her look so much younger -- so much like a child. He knew she wasn’t too old to fly. 

Once he’d turned back over, Orion lay down on his back in mid-air with one leg crossed over the other and his arms casually folded behind his head. 

“It’s not hard to do, you know,” he said mildly. “I could show you how, if you’d like.”

"Really!?” said Charlie eagerly. 

“You’d do that?” said Bill, sounding incredibly interested despite himself. 

"Certainly,” said Orion. 

He smiled over at the pile of stuffed animals where Merula had been hiding. The fairy, however, had buried herself under the animals and was now ringing like a tiny, irritable bell. 

“Merula,” Orion chided her lightly. 

“No!” jingled the fairy. “I won’t do it!”

“Come on, Merula, come on out.”

“No!”

“I need some of your dust, Merula.”

“That girl’s got eyes like Hook! And if those boys are with her, that makes them pirates too!”

“Merula.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!”

The three ginger-haired kids stared as Orion had a short debate with what sounded like a bell stuck in Charlie’s old teddy bear, perfectly dumbfounded. Charlie shot Carewyn a baffled expression. 

“Is he...’round the bend?” he muttered to her.

“No,” Carewyn said primly. “Just a little odd.”

Orion picked up the teddy bear as if to reach Merula, but the pixie stubbornly flew out of his reach. She zoomed toward the other side of the room, right over Bill’s shoulder, so small and fast she merely appeared like a flash of light. 

“What the -- ?” said the eldest Weasley, taken aback. 

Orion flew across the room after her, but Merula evaded him. The tiny pink-eyed fairy weaved around his hand, zipping around the bed posts --

And was snatched up instead by Charlie, who managed to grab her mid-flight when she darted past him. 

“Leggo! Leggo of me, you freckly bilge rat -- ”

“Now, that’s hardly polite,” said Orion dryly. 

Charlie stared down at the furiously jingling fairy, his eyes wide with amazement. “Whoa...it’s a real pixie!”

“Naturally,” said Orion.

Merula bit Charlie hard on the finger. The boy yelped and let go, but just barely managed to snatch her up again by the back of her dress with his other hand before she got too far. 

“Don’t hurt her!” said Carewyn anxiously. 

“Ow -- maybe you should tell her the same thing, not to hurt me!” Charlie said in a surly voice. 

Merula kicked and wailed angrily, but was unable to reach well enough to bite Charlie again. 

“I’m not giving any of my dust to her, she’s a PIRATE!” Merula snapped at Orion, pointing at Carewyn angrily. 

“Merula, don’t call her that,” Orion said patiently. “Now come on -- just a little dust will do.”

Carewyn frowned deeply. She couldn’t understand Merula’s bell-like voice and so hadn’t the foggiest what the fairy had called her, but she tried to be polite herself, all the same. 

“You don’t have to force her, Orion,” she said lowly. “If she really doesn’t want to give us her dust, she doesn’t have to -- I mean, it is hers...”

“Normally I would agree, but one can’t fly without being touched with fairy dust,” said Orion. “So once again, this pain is unavoidable.”

With this he took Merula from Charlie and floated over them, holding her up by the back of her dress over the three gingers’ heads and then gave her a very light shake. Golden dust came off of her, dripping like rain down onto Bill, Charlie’s, and Carewyn’s heads. 

Charlie shook his head, his short ponytail whapping back and forth like a horse’s tail as he laughed. “It kind of tingles...”

Bill found himself laughing too as he looked at Carewyn, his brown eyes very bright. 

“It’s just like in your mum’s songs, Carey,” he said softly. 

“Yeah!” agreed Charlie brightly. “An island on a star where children never grow up and fly like birds -- whoooooa!”

The second-eldest Weasley had been so happy by this thought that he found himself coming right up off the ground. 

“Charlie!”

Bill immediately reacted with concern, but he needn’t have. Charlie soared upwards, slapping the ceiling lightly, but within seconds he’d completely turned around in mid-air, hovering upside down and stomping on the ceiling with his feet. With a delighted cry, he kicked off from the ceiling and soared toward the ground, zipping around the three beds and over the dresser.

“Whoo! Look at me!”

He landed smoothly on top of the dresser, his face over-bright with excitement. 

“Come on, Bill! Come on, Carey, try it!”

However much he was the eldest and wanted to be the responsible one, Bill couldn’t hold back his own excitement. Locking his shoulders as he prepared himself, he tried to think of something happy. His mother’s cooking -- the new bike he couldn’t afford in the shop window in the East End -- traveling the world, and being able to go anywhere he wanted -- 

“Whooooa!”

Just like Charlie, he came up off the ground. He glided through the air, his feet swinging back and forth as he ran on nothing, holding his arms aloft on either side like wings as he crossed the room.

“This is incredible!” he cried. His brown eyes were alight as he flew down toward Carewyn, beckoning her with his hand. “Come on, Carey!”

Carewyn had been standing back with a broad, but silent smile watching Bill and Charlie fly. When it was her turn to fly, though, she hesitated. Her eyes had landed on Merula, who, now that Orion had released her, was hovering over his shoulder and glaring fiercely at her. Her gaze then fell away to the far corner again. 

“...Maybe I shouldn’t,” she said lowly. 

“Aw, come on, Carey!” Charlie egged her on. “It’s fun!”

Carewyn shook her head. “Merula didn’t want me to have her fairy dust. It doesn’t feel right to use it, if she didn’t want me to have it in the first place.”

Instead of being touched by this, Merula looked, if possible, even more suspicious. 

“It’s all right, Carewyn,” Orion said levelly as he floated on his stomach in mid-air, kicking his feet back and forth. “Merula just acts like a Venus Flytrap sometimes.”

Bill shot him a bewildered look, and Orion clarified, “She bites at things just because they’re there.”

“Well, it’s not nice to ignore someone’s feelings,” said Carewyn stubbornly. 

“You wouldn’t be ignoring her feelings, Carey,” Bill told her gently. “It sounds like Merula’s like this with everyone, a little bit, until she gets to know you. Like how Percy always tries to eat at the table like a grown-up until Mum brings out dessert,” he added with a grin. 

Carewyn crossed her arms and looked away. “I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, come off it, Carey!” he scolded her. “I know the fairy’s small, but she bites like a mad dog. I’m quite sure it’d take a bit more than you having some fun to hurt her...”

He then put on a bigger, more determined grin and held out both of his hands. “So stop beating yourself up! Come on...think of a wonderful thought...”

“Any merry little thought...” added Bill with a grin. 

The weird little melody, sung by two untrained, faintly off-key voices, nonetheless pricked at the edges of Orion’s memory. It was the song Carewyn had been singing, when he’d first heard her through the window...

Carewyn looked from Charlie to Bill, taking in their broad, happy smiles. The sight seemed to soften her own expression -- the little wrinkles around her lips were joined by some around the corners of her eyes, but they likewise didn’t make her look older, merely gentler and as well-loved as Charlie’s old teddy bear. Tentatively she took both of Charlie’s hands and shut her eyes tight. 

“Think of Christmas, think of snow...”

Her bird-like voice was much sweeter and more hushed than the Weasley boys’. A wide, bright smile bloomed over her face and she couldn’t stop it. 

“...think of sleigh bells...off you -- go!”

Her note came out as a squeak of delight as her feet came up off the ground. Charlie and Bill both began to laugh as her eyes shot open, gaping at the ground a good three feet below.

“Like reindeer in the sky!” her singing voice was shaking, both out of nerves and out of absolute, pure delight. 

Charlie pulled Carewyn along after him and the two zoomed around the room, Bill right behind them, the two boys laughing and whooping while the second sang the last line like a cheer of triumph. 

“You can fly! You can fly! You can fly!”

Orion watched the three zip around the room with a placid smile on his face, clasping his hands in his lap as he crossed his legs in mid-air. 

He knew she wasn’t too old. He knew she’d be able to fly. And a pirate...surely a pirate would never be able to fly like that. Orion couldn’t fathom what happy thoughts could possibly propel someone like Captain Hook into the air -- but whatever they’d be, they wouldn’t be something that would make this Carewyn smile. A little lady like this wouldn’t find any joy in the kind of fear and wickedness embraced by the likes of him. 

Jack had been right. Although this girl had the eyes of a pirate, she didn’t belong with the likes of Hook. Orion felt certain of this. And perhaps because of the intrigue of this contradiction, the Boy Who Never Grew Up decided -- this is what he would take in return, for doing as Jack asked. He would make sure Carewyn stayed safely out of Hook’s reach -- and he, in turn, would get her, as one of his Lost Kids. And well, as much as he hadn’t planned to bring them too, these boys with Carewyn wouldn’t make half-bad Lost Kids themselves. He didn’t see any harm in taking them too. 

His black eyes and white smile were alight as he addressed the three gingers. 

“Come with me.”

Bill, Charlie, and Carewyn all halted in mid-air. 

“Where?” asked Charlie. 

“To Neverland,” said Orion. “You all seem to have gotten the hang of flying, so it won’t take long for us to get there.”

Carewyn looked faintly troubled. Her gravity slowly returned to her and her feet touched the ground again.

“But what about Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?” she said concernedly. “They’d be horribly worried, if we just up and left without a word...”

Charlie and Bill slowly returned to the ground too. They both looked visibly disappointed -- Bill, looking like he was thinking hard, then brightened up with a thought and dashed over to grab some paper and a pencil. 

“...We could leave a note,” he offered. “Telling them where we’ve gone. Tomorrow’s Sunday, I won’t have to deliver any newspapers...”

“Yeah!” said Charlie, and his feet came back up off the ground again. “We could always fly back in time for supper...right?”

He looked at Orion, who shrugged noncommittedly. Bill started scrawling a note. 

“Come on, Carey,” said Charlie, unable to hold in his eagerness. “Don’t you want to see the pirates? The centaurs?”

“The mermaids?” prompted Bill.

“Well, yes,” said Carewyn, “but...”

She glanced hesitantly at Orion. He floated down to the ground, his black eyes locked on hers as he towered slightly over her. 

“Don’t you know what Neverland truly is, Carewyn?” he murmured. 

Carewyn’s eyes crinkled with slight confusion.

“Freedom,” he said. “Freedom from responsibilities, or worries, or cares. From all solemn things like death and sadness and pain. Freedom to do what you want when you want, with no rules or boundaries or stockings -- to be young and careless forever.”

Carewyn’s blue eyes fell down to the floor. 

“...Forever is an awfully long time,” she said very quietly. 

“And yet it can feel like nothing at all,” said Orion. 

Carewyn looked up at him hesitantly. “We won’t be able to stay that long.”

“Then stay as long as you wish to.”

Orion leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“There are many others like us there, Carewyn Cromwell. Children with no mother or father of our own, who found others to live with and look after instead...”

Carewyn straightened up sharply, her eyes filling up with empathy and pain as she looked at Orion. His black eyes were very unreadable, but very dark and penetrating.

“I'm sure they’d love your songs and stories, as this family has -- and they’d love any buttons or pockets you could sew for us. Not one of us has any pockets.”

Oh yes, this was underhanded. Orion knew it. But considering how strangely sensitive of a heart Carewyn had, it seemed like it might push her over the edge enough to at least say yes to coming. And sure enough, it did. Carewyn found herself smiling weakly as she glanced from Orion to Bill and Charlie. 

“Well...all right!” she said, her smile gaining a bit more determination behind it. 

“Yes!” cheered Charlie with a pump of his fist.

Bill beamed from ear to ear. He darted over to their tiny shared closet and put on both his newsboy hat and his old, worn boots -- apparently the twelve-year-old had determined those two things made him “dressed” enough for such a long journey. 

Merula crossed her arms and tinkled at Orion irritably. 

“‘Stay as long as you wish to’ -- honestly!” she grumbled. “You know they’ll forget this place completely, once they arrive in Neverland...”

Orion ignored her. He was too pleased with himself and the outcome. With a broad smile and sparkling black eyes, he flew back over to the windowsill.

“Come on, everyone!” he called. “Let’s be off!”

He leapt right out of it and into the night, Merula flitting after him irritably. Without hesitation, Charlie soared out through the open window after him with a loud “yahoo!” 

“Wait up, Charlie!” cried Bill. 

The older boy tossed down the quickly scrawled note to their parents on his and Charlie’s side table and flew right after him, his face consumed by a huge grin. Carewyn dashed over to the window and looked out, watching them go. Orion drifted outside the window, waiting patiently for her. 

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “It’s just...this all feels like a dream.”

Orion’s black eyes sparkled like stars. “Then let me give you a dream.”

He held out his hand, the way she had when she wanted to shake his hand. Carewyn smiled fully, her pirate-like blue eyes crinkling up and shining with pure joy -- and she took his hand, leaping right out of the window and into the air next to him. Squeezing her hand right, Orion then flew off with her into the night, Charlie and Bill soaring around them.

Off to the Second Star to the Right, and straight on ‘til morning...

#peter pan au #hphm #hogwarts mystery #orion amari #carewyn cromwell #merula snyde #charlie weasley #bill weasley #my art #my writing #FINALLY #okay now I need to run to work #but finally it's done grah #orion you sneaksy bugger #you know full well they're going to forget london and everything as soon as they arrive but hey it makes everything work out #you get some new interesting lost kiddos that can keep you company *and* you get to do that pirate that favor he wanted #and hey these kids don't have to grow up now so it's all good right? #right? #no #but hey #orion in the role of peter pan doesn't understand family that well as much as he does 'look after' his lost kids #and really this isn't anything malevolent it's misplaced innocence and fondness if anything #because orion is already taking a liking to this carewyn #she's interesting to him #and growing up and dealing with solemn things is something orion is very afraid of so there you go #gotta protect these kids from that

[carewyncromwell]

*sings* Cinderella...you’re as lovely as your name, Cinderella~...

Okay, some quick notes before we start. Despite the beauty of their work, painters’ palettes were actually rather limited on pigments during the Renaissance, only having three pigments more than artists did during the Middle Ages. The Moly is a magical plant that appears in Homer’s The Odyssey. Hermes gives it to Odysseus as a charm to protect him from Circe’s spells. It’s been most commonly compared to the snowdrop flower by scholars. It also is referenced in the canon Potterverse as a powerful herb that can counter enchantments.

The Willow Song appears as a motif at the end of William Shakespeare’s Othello, though it was written at least thirty years earlier. In Othello, Desdemona sings a few stanzas of it in response to her husband’s growing distance and madness -- to the audience watching the play in Shakespeare’s day, which would already know the song, its inclusion foreshadows Othello and Desdemona’s tragic ending. “No One is Alone” is from Stephen Sondheim’s well-regarded musical Into the Woods, which features Cinderella as a semi-major character -- the song is actually even partially sung by Cinderella in the show!

I edited the art for this section, as you can tell. Badeea’s painting is a modified photograph of the Chateau de Chambord in France, overlaid on top of my own drawing. (Thanks, Lunapic!) This is also my very first time drawing Badeea!! GOD, is she pretty!! I think her eyes are my favorite of all the HPHM cast.

Previous part is here -- whole tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you enjoy!

x~x~x~x

When Carewyn followed up with Andre the next morning, he was quite disappointed when he saw Carewyn wasn’t wearing the new shoes he’d made for her with her uniform. He honestly hadn’t even considered that they wouldn’t be comfortable for walking in -- and honestly, Carewyn could sort of understand why. Andre had never been able to leave the palace grounds, so there no doubt were a lot of practical things he’d just never considered...such as how very flashy royal fashion was, compared to that of the common man. He was pleased with the feedback Carewyn “passed along from her cousins” for him, though -- completely unaware of the fact that all three comments were really opinions that Carewyn herself had had about the dress.

“Hmm...that is a good point,” said Andre, his hand resting on his chin. “Red is a beautiful color...but a deep blue would not only bring out your eyes, but it would also perfectly contrast your ginger hair, since blue and orange are on opposite sides of the color wheel...”

His face burst into a bright white smile. “Your cousin Iris really has an eye for colors.”

Carewyn successfully fought back a groan, even as her eyes drifted up off toward the top corner of the room.

“...Well, she has taken up embroidery as a hobby. I suppose when one spends a lot of time doing samplers, one could develop an eye for colors.”

And also create a lot of initialed handkerchiefs to conveniently drop in front of noblemen so they pick it up and return it to you.

Andre, however, reacted with some interest. “Is that so? Hmm...well, maybe when I’m working on your new pair of shoes, I could invite her over for tea so she can give me her second opinion before I give them to you.”

Carewyn had never disliked a thought more in her life that Iris having a say in what she wore -- but knowing that she shouldn’t be the one to sabotage Iris, especially when her cousin would no doubt be able to do it well enough on her own, she put on her best smile.

“...I’m sure Iris would enjoy that very much.”

Sure enough, within a week, Iris had been invited to the palace for tea with the Prince. Carewyn could only imagine how thrilled Iris, her aunt Claire, and Charles were. As for Carewyn herself, she knew it was now time to do as Charles said and stay out of Iris’s way...and so when Iris arrived, she made sure to clean the rooms in her wing of the palace in a different order and not sing so that Andre wouldn’t be able to “check in” on her with Iris in tow. She didn’t think she could stand it if Iris got to look down at her polishing the palace floors.

Her lack of singing, however, did catch Badeea’s attention. When Carewyn collided with the court painter in the hallway, she expressed some concern.

“I missed your accompaniment, while I was painting,” she said. “Is everything all right?”

Carewyn felt guilty as she leaned her broom against the wall for a moment. “Oh...yes, Badeea, I’m fine. I merely...well, my cousin Iris is spending time with the Prince today, so I thought to...well, not draw focus.”

Badeea nodded in understanding. “Mm, yes...some things are meant to be background details, while others are meant to catch the eye straight away.”

Carewyn and Badeea caught the sound of Iris’s twittering, bird-like laughter echoing down the hall toward them. Not wanting to be seen when or if Iris and Andre came out into the hall themselves, Carewyn quickly picked up her broom and went around the corner -- Badeea adjusted her easel under her arm and followed.

“Say, Carewyn,” said the court painter thoughtfully, “why don’t you dress up in that nice yellow and green dress you have and come to the market with me?”

Carewyn blinked.

“I need to pick up some more carbon black and indigo for this painting I’m working on for Andre, but the man who sells those paints loves to price gauge. If you were dressed up all fancy and you slid in a reference to your family, though, he might be less likely to try to rip you off,” Badeea added with a tiny, coy smile.

Carewyn frowned, feeling a bit unsure. “I don’t know, Badeea -- I still have a lot of work to do...”

“You have the whole rest of the day to finish,” Badeea reminded her. “It would only take maybe an hour or two. And it would get you out of the palace while your cousin’s here.”

Carewyn considered the matter. Truthfully she’d been hoping to finish her work quickly so she could stow away back to the library and scan more troop deployment records...but she really did hate the thought of bumping into Andre and Iris, not just because of how much Iris would hate Carewyn getting any attention and therefore delight in tormenting her in front of the Prince in order to puff herself up, but because she didn’t want to provoke Charles’s ire unnecessarily.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll go change.”

Not long later, Carewyn had put on her mother’s old dress, pinned her hair up, and joined Badeea by the front gates, and the two headed into town on foot. The sky was still rather gray -- it had been raining and thundering for the last couple of days, and there was still a lot of mud in places. Carewyn was glad she was wearing her worn brown shoes under her gown rather than the pretty heels Andre had made for her -- particularly since nobody would likely be looking at her feet.

The shopkeeper in question was indeed a bit intimidated when Carewyn offhandedly referred to “her grandfather, Charles Cromwell” -- and soon enough, Badeea had been able to skip most of the haggling she would’ve normally had to make just to get her paints at a decent price. They left the shopkeeper’s stall, several jars of paint in hand.

As fate would have it, as they walked at the market, someone else was also shopping, and at the sight of the familiar dress and mane of ginger hair, he ran up to meet them.

“Carewyn!”

Carewyn and Badeea both looked up, to see Orion striding up to them. He once again wore his slightly-too-clean, but modest white shirt, olive breeches, and boots, and he was carried a basket full of henbane.

Carewyn’s red lips spread into a smile. “Orion...hello.”

Orion brought a hand up to his chest and offered her a short bow.

“It seems the stars favor us after all, my lady,” he said, the corners of his own lips kissed with traces of a wry smile.

Carewyn shot a quick glance at his basket and quirked an eyebrow.

“Purchasing some more incense?” she asked pointedly.

Orion’s black eyes sparkled. “I’m afraid we’ve already used up what I bought previously. Fortunately the gentleman from last time remembered my face and didn’t give me too much grief.”

“That’s fortunate.”

Carewyn glanced at Badeea to Orion and back.

“Orion, this is Badeea Ali -- she’s the Crown’s court painter. Badeea...this is Orion Freeman. He helped me retrieve my horse the other day.”

Badeea’s dark brown eyes were very bright. “Ah, yes -- KC had said that you were thrown off your horse. Thank you for helping Carewyn, sir,” she added to Orion.

“It was my pleasure,” said Orion. “What’s the subject of your next piece, if I may ask?”

“A foreboding sky and a distorted reflection,” Badeea replied.

Orion looked intrigued. “That would explain such dark shades. Who commissioned the piece?”

“The Prince,” said Badeea. “But his request was just of a view of the entire palace, from a distance -- I was simply inspired by the rainstorm that passed through a few days ago, and how the turrets of the palace looked reflected in the castle moat.” 

“I wonder how the castle of Royaume would see itself, if it had eyes,” said Orion levelly. “Would it see its beauty, or would it be the type to be critical of its flaws?”

“Hm...or would it see the beauty of its flaws?” asked Badeea.

“True,” granted Orion. “Flaws make us more human -- would that make something more beautiful, by serving as contrast to our strengths?”

“Flaws aren’t something you should simply have to accept,” said Carewyn demurely, her arms crossed. “One should strive to be better than one already is. Even if one is only human, that doesn’t mean they can’t work to be something better.”

Orion turned to her, interested. “And what would be better than being oneself, my lady?”

“Being a better version of oneself, of course,” Carewyn said, sounding matter-of-fact. “One can always be kinder, braver, stronger...more cunning, more passionate. One can always learn more, and do more, and be more.”

“Yes...but it seems like those could be crippling expectations to hold over yourself, to never be enough,” said Orion, and although his expression was very inscrutable, his lips twitched with something of a frown.

“Perfectionism is a disease that affects every artist sooner or later,” said Badeea sympathetically.

Her dark eyes flitted from Orion to Carewyn thoughtfully.

“I must be getting back to work on my painting...would you like to join us at the opposite bank, Mr. Freeman? I would be happy for some feedback on my work, before I present it to his Highness.”

Orion glanced at Carewyn for her approval -- she offered a small smile, and his lips turned up in a full smile of his own.

“I would be honored.”

So the three set about finding a less muddy spot by the castle moat, across from the palace. They found one right by a beautiful willow tree, where Carewyn very carefully lowered herself onto the grass. Badeea fetched her easel and chair, setting it up so that she had a good view of the castle. Orion looked over her incomplete work appreciatively.

“It looks like it could breathe, were it a living thing.”

“Thank you,” said Badeea. “Now then, I’ll need to concentrate while mapping out the sky, so no initiating conversation, please. These paints stay on fabric just as well as my canvas, so they won’t easily wash out. I would appreciate some accompaniment, though, Carewyn.”

Orion glanced at Carewyn curiously. Carewyn avoided his eye.

“Badeea, I don’t think -- ”

“Ah, ah,” said Badeea, holding up a gloved finger quickly, “no conversation. Accompaniment or nothing, please.”

She then set about mixing certain shades and color spotting sections of canvas.

Carewyn frowned. It was one thing to be singing while she was working herself, to pass the time, but Orion’s focus was still largely on her, and it felt weird. Still, she thought to herself, it wasn’t like she was bashful about singing in front of others, exactly -- she knew her voice was more than serviceable. There was really no harm in it. So, glancing up at the willow tree above her head, Carewyn rested her hands in the grass, leaned back, and sang.

“The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree --

Sing willow, willow, willow...willow...

Her hand in her bosom, her head on her knee --

Oh willow, willow, willow...willow...

She sighed in her singing and made a great moan --

Sing willow, willow, willow...willow...

‘I’m dead to all pleasure -- my true love is gone --

Oh willow, willow, willow...shall be my garland...’”

Carewyn felt Orion’s dark eyes on her at the start. Before long, though, his eyes had fluttered closed, and he sat in perfect silence. As he listened, his shoulders loosened and his expression seemed to clear of all tension or pretense, like a child peacefully falling off to sleep. Badeea painted and shaded to the sound of Carewyn’s low, melancholy singing, adding white highlights to the dark gray and black shadows to create a cloudy sky with sunlight poking through.

When Carewyn was finished with the song, Orion slowly opened his eyes, meeting her gaze again at last. His eyes were oddly hesitant, almost shy.

“Y -- ”

He hesitated. Then, his black eyes softening handsomely, he closed his mouth, and it slowly spread into a smile gentler and warmer than Carewyn had ever seen before. He clearly approved.

Carewyn smiled in return and inclined her head in a silent “thank you.”

Carewyn sang some more songs until Badeea had finally finished and Orion and the two women had to part ways so that Badeea and Carewyn could pack up the easel and finished painting and bring them inside.

The following morning, Carewyn was surprised by KC pulling her aside to hand her a packet of what looked like handwritten sheet music.

“Your friend Orion stopped by a little while ago to give this to you,” she explained.

Carewyn was taken aback.

“I reckon he must’ve hopped over the wall,” said KC, unable to fight back a laugh. “I caught him strolling through the southwest gardens. I told him I’d bring it up to you, so that he wouldn’t get himself in trouble.”

Stunned, Carewyn looked down at the sheet music, shifting the pages so she could scan each line. Her blue eyes softened, growing deeper and darker with emotion, as she read the words and notes.

“...This...this is beautiful,” she whispered. She looked up at KC, unable to fully keep the awe from her face. “...You don’t think he wrote this?”

KC shook her head. “No, he said it was a song he learned when he was young, and that he tracked down the sheet music for you since he didn’t think he’d be able to properly sing it for you. I’ve never heard it either, though.”

Carewyn spent her meal times and about an hour before bed that night perusing the sheet music so she could learn the song. The following day, she felt confident enough to sing some of it while she started about cleaning the Queen’s Chambers.

“Mother isn’t here now...who knows what she’d say?

Nothing’s quite so clear now...feel you’ve lost your way?

You decide alone...but no one is alone.

You move just a finger, say the slightest word --

Something’s bound to linger...be heard...

No one acts alone...careful -- no one is alone...

People make mistakes -- fathers, mothers --

People make mistakes,

Holding to their own...thinking they’re alone...

Honor the mistakes everybody makes, one another’s terrible mistakes...

They could still be right -- they could still be good.

You decide what’s right -- you decide what’s good.

Just remember...”

“Carewyn!”

Carewyn stopped sweeping and looked up, to see Andre striding through the opened door of the Queen’s Chambers toward her.

“An -- your Highness,” Carewyn corrected herself very quickly, after noting who’d accompanied Andre.

Just behind him in the door frame was her dark-haired cousin Iris, dressed in her best rose velvet and her own almond-shaped blue eyes narrowed with loathing at Carewyn over Andre’s shoulder.

Andre, perfectly oblivious to the silent tension between the two cousins, gave a laugh.

“Oh, Carewyn, we’re not back to that again, are we? It’s ‘Andre,’ ” he said with an indulgent smile. “I haven’t heard that song before -- did you learn it recently?”

“Ah...yes,” said Carewyn. She could feel Iris’s fierce glare burning a hole in her face over Andre’s shoulder even without looking at either of them.

“It’s really quite lovely,” said Andre. “Please, do sing the rest of it when you’re able.”

“Of course, Prince Henri.”

Carewyn was absolutely not going to call Andre by his nickname in front of Iris -- she knew how Iris would shriek her head off about it to Charles.

Andre sighed and shook his head in something like tired amusement.

“I was hoping we’d catch you on your rounds,” he said conversationally. “I’m just about finished with your new shoes! Iris said your favorite color was ash gray -- I’ve never really worked with that color before, so it’ll be a bit of a challenge -- but I’m sure I’ll find a shade that might suit you...”

Ash gray? Running with the ‘Cinderwyn’ nickname, then, are we, Iris?

Carewyn forced a smile. “...Thank you. That’s...very kind.”

Feeling more uncomfortable by the minute, she quickly rushed over to pick up her full dust pan with her other hand.

“Forgive me, I really should go and empty this -- ”

At that exact moment, Iris had strode forward, bumping Carewyn’s shoulder in just such a way that the pan was knocked backward onto Carewyn, covering her, her orange and tan dress, and the floor with all of the dust, dirt, and grime she’d swept up over the last hour.

“Oh!” said Iris in feigned surprise. “I’m so sorry.”

Her gaze, however, was just as hard and unapologetic as it had been when she’d ripped the sleeve off Carewyn’s dress at home.

“Carewyn!” said Andre, concerned. “Are you all right?”

Carewyn coughed.

“...Yes, of course,” she said, her voice very hard and stoic in the back of her throat. “It was merely an accident.”

She shot Iris a cold look as she looked over her now thoroughly ruined uniform and the dust and dirt all around her feet.

“Please, go on ahead with Iris, your Highness. I’ll clean up this mess.”

Once Iris had successfully steered the reluctant-looking Andre out of the room, Carewyn closed the door, took off her dress, and finished cleaning the room in her undergarments, so as not to spread the dust and ash around any further. Then, very carefully, she darted across the hall from the Queen’s Chambers to Andre’s, so that she could fetch the high-necked, gold-embroidered dress made out of white linen and light blue velvet he’d recently finished for her from his walk-in closet. After all, she told herself, she needed something to wear while she was getting her uniform cleaned -- and well, at least Iris would be less likely to ruin this dress, since Andre had stitched it himself.

Holding her dusty, ashen dress in a folded pile against her chest, Carewyn headed downstairs toward the laundry. On her way through the entrance hall, though, KC -- who’d just come out of the library -- ran up to walk alongside her down the hall.

“Seems your friend is back.”

Carewyn’s messy ponytail flapped over her shoulder when she looked at her in surprise. “Orion?”

KC nodded, her lips curled up in a wry smile. “I thought I saw someone hopping over the wall through the library window, just now. Shall we go investigate?”

Carewyn bit her lip, looking down at the ruined uniform in her arms.

“Let me drop this off at the laundry first,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

Carewyn ran down the stairs and threw her uniform into one of the tubs to soak, before quickly doing her hair up in a simple, but slightly more presentable braided bun and hurrying back up to join KC. The two women then headed out to the gardens, only to hear something of a scuffle.

“A man with innocent intentions does not hop over castle walls,” said Bill’s voice, though it sounded much lower and harder than Carewyn was used to hearing.

“In this case, sir, I assure you, I do.”

“You will declare your true name and business at once, sir, or I shall see to it that you’re locked in irons and hauled before the King himself -- ”

“Bill!” cried Carewyn.

Bill looked up, startled. The ginger-haired castle guard had slammed Orion back-first against a tree, holding him up off the ground by his collar with one hand, but at the sight of Carewyn and KC running forward, the suspicion and righteous anger in his face dissipated instantly.

“It’s all right, Bill,” Carewyn reassured him. “He’s a friend.”

“Put him down,” said KC.

Bill looked from KC to Carewyn in confusion, before glancing at Orion warily, but he nonetheless did as they said. Once he’d lowered Orion to the ground and let go of his shirt, the dark-haired man calmly adjusted his collar and picked up a satchel that must’ve come off in the struggle off the ground.

“Thank you, Carewyn...Lady Katriona,” he said pleasantly, as if he had not just been in a loose choke hold.

KC grimaced. “Orion, I’ve saved your butt twice now -- we’ve more than gotten to the point of you calling me KC.”

Orion smiled wryly. “I’m glad of it.”

Carewyn, however, still looked a bit harried. “Orion, what were you thinking? Hopping the wall...it’s no wonder Bill thought you were up to no good!”

“Well, the gate was locked, and no one was there to greet me,” said Orion airily.

“Well, of course the palace of Royaume has very strong security,” Carewyn said exasperatedly, “the royal family lives here.”

“I must wonder how the royal family ever receives visitors, then.”

“They don’t,” said Bill rather coolly. “They invite them, and very rarely, at that. And they clearly didn’t invite you to trespass on the grounds.”

Orion was unfazed. “Well, fortunately, I wasn’t looking for such an invitation, to begin with. I merely wanted to give this to Carewyn, as a gift for Madam Ali.”

He reached into his satchel and pulled out a jar of unusually shiny silvery-white paint. Bill, KC and Carewyn’s eyes all were very wide as Orion handed the jar to Carewyn.

“I asked a few people where best to locate materials for paints,” he explained. “One man pointed me to a flower that grows at the border called the Moly. He made this paint himself. I don’t think any colors  like this are made and sold at the market, so I thought I would bring along one of his jars for Madam Ali, so she might use it for her next project.”

Carewyn’s light blue eyes were very bright and touched as she looked up at Orion.

“Orion...it’s wonderful,” she said, her soft voice incredibly warm. “Badeea will love it.”

“You said he used the Moly?” asked KC, as she took the jar from Carewyn and looked at it. “Maybe Badeea could mix up some more paint of her own, then.”

Bill glanced at Orion with a raised eyebrow. “Or the Crown could simply buy it from the vendor who sold you that paint.”

Carewyn noticed a strange, almost skittish glint flicker through Orion’s eye.

“...I’m afraid that jar was a favor, not a purchase,” he said softly.

“I think Badeea would be fine with making her own, Bill,” Carewyn said firmly. “The Crown wouldn’t want to set aside extra money for materials anyway. It’d be a lot cheaper to make a paint like that in house than to buy it from someone else.”

Despite his frown, Bill nonetheless sighed and nodded. “...True. Charlie’s needed a new set of scratch awls for ages.”

Orion looked pleased. “I’m glad I could be of assistance.”

“Perhaps the next time you want to see Carewyn, you might figure out a way to do it that doesn’t require you scaling walls like a prowler,” said KC amusedly.

Carewyn shot KC a slightly reproachful look. Orion’s muted smile rather resembled that of a satisfied house cat.

“I’d be happy to arrange more regular meetings outside the palace, if Lady Cromwell would be open to it,” he said, his black eyes sparkling as he glanced at Carewyn.

Carewyn raised her eyebrows coolly at him. “Once again, Mr. Freeman, you seem to have an unusual amount of freedom, if you’re able to consider allocating time just to meet me.”

Her lips then spread in a wry smile.

“Still...I can hardly sit by and let you get arrested for trespassing on my account. I have some time available late tomorrow morning, before noon. I could meet you by the gate then.”

Orion grinned. “I’ll look forward to it, my lady.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #cinderella au #my art #my writing #carewyn cromwell #orion amari #katriona cassiopeia #andre egwu #bill weasley #badeea ali #orion you sneaksy bugger #definitely manipulating things to 'learn more about your enemy' and warm them up to you #so as to make connections you could use to do diplomacy later when the ruse is up #but at the same time...you sure are oddly comfortable with putting yourself in risky positions to interact with carey-bear ain't you >3 #iris's face claim is a brown-haired devore ledridge #I'll probably be drawing her at some point with andre -- GOD do I feel bad for this guy #as naive as he is about the cromwell family dynamic I think he already prefers carewyn's company to iris's #but honestly who wouldn't *snorts*