sweet like justice (rhys)

[EPKE ROBERTUS OPPEDYK]

30 April 2028 (second day of festival)

Predictably, at the offering of a wine tasting, Rob had called up Rhys and they'd agreed to attend this weird pagan festival. He supposed it was alright. Usually when druids got involved, Rob, Rhys and the rest of the werewolf community were the first to be uninvited. Though the sponsors of this festival had been avid to encourage 'the afflicted' as Rob so affectionately dubbed it. Vampires, werewolves, and part giants and the like had all been welcomed, so long as magic had touched their blood. Whatever - Rob was more concerned with how many different elf and druid made wines he could consume before he was weak in the knees.

Rob and Rhys had agreed to meet at the festival, and to Rob's utter surprise, he'd arrived first. His gaze swept the valley, taking in the sights. There were a few family groups decorating May Bushes, and about a half dozen little girls, perhaps second years at Hogwarts on Easter leave, all dancing around the May Pole with variously coloured ribbons in their hands. A young man was moving fluidly on a stage, as if gravity didn't affect him at all. When he leaped, Rob wondered if the stage had been charmed with an anti-gravity spell. He'd have to ask Sienna about that.

Rob had done his best to scramble out of the hole he'd dug for himself. His situation was no less complicated - he still missed his mate dreadfully, even if he stood by their joint decision to take a break from one another. They hadn't spoken in months, and that had only worked to exacerbate the pain in his chest. But Rob had gotten very good at ignoring that pain. And he continued doing so today, with his absolute favourite activity. Rob spotted the casks of wine and the delicately laid tables ready for willing participants. Rob shuffled over, and plonked himself down on a stool to wait for Rhys.

rhys alexander greyback

[rhys alexander greyback]

feel like a brand-new person

but you'll make the same old mistakes

April 30, 2028
EPKE ROBERTUS OPPEDYK

It was odd to attend one of these things. But Rob had encouraged Rhys using the knowledge that abundant alcohol would be available. Sure, it wasn’t whiskey, but Rhys hadn’t ever heard a complaint about druid wine. Plus, only Merlin knew how much Rhys needed a night off. This was the longest period he’d spent at home since that quarantine. It was unnerving, especially since he was fully training at the school now or at least until the summer ended. The flat he’d lived in since he graduated from Hogwarts felt incredibly small these days, even with the minor additions he’d requested after Amelia was born. And whenever he turned around, someone was there. Rhys would never say it aloud, but most days were stifling, with the only relief being the days he spent with his daughter.

She was growing fast like someone had poured a potion on weeds. While most days Rhys was still terrified of doing something wrong as a father, he couldn’t imagine it any other way. At least her existence and presence seemed to heal some small part of Rhys, and for the rest, he relied on something alcoholic. Rhys’ eyes scanned the festival. It was a lot to take in and a lot of noise as well. A part of him wanted to turn around and head back home or to the pub, but he was already there. Quickly, Rhys spotted Rob sitting on his own. The other werewolf had looked better, and it had gotten to a point where even Rhys knew he had to drag his friend to get some sunlight or touch some grass.

”Sorry, I’m late.” Rhys apologized as he dropped into the seat next to Rob. ”Had to take Amelia to her mother’s.” Fortunately, the dramatics with Amelia’s mother had been minimal throughout everything. Sage Grimstone was not the fiery type as her late sister had been, and she’d given up trying to lecture Rhys on anything these days. Though he suspected that she also missed his time away working. Vasilia was working, of course, but who knew what business was like when festivals like this were in full swing. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted familiar faces, Professors from Hogwarts, but as his eyes lingered a few moments, he didn’t spot who his subconscious was looking for.

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[EPKE ROBERTUS OPPEDYK]

Rob allowed himself to stew briefly as he waited for Rhys to join him. But not for long - he was shortly joined by his friend, and perhaps the only person who could understand what sort of position he was in. If not understand, at least empathise. But in reality, Rob didn't want that. Not even a little bit. He wanted to forget, to numb the pain, just for today. It was selfish and the wrong thing to do, but trying to do the right thing wasn't always easy.

"I'm surprised they've let us in," said Rob, inclining his head in greeting to Rhys. "Don't they know that werewolves cause scandals?" he smirked, his mood lightening with the prospect. His demeanour had changed vastly over the past month once he and Sienna had put their pride aside and embarked on a tentative sort of relationship. Rob still harboured enormous guilt over the way he'd treated her in the past, as if she was a passing fancy. But nearly two decades had past, and Sienna was just as tempting as she had the first time they'd met. She'd gone from his sister's best friend, to his own friend's girlfriend, to a strong potioneer who was fiercely independent. How could she not have his heart?

The other aspect of guilt that gnawed at Rob was his mate. He didn't know how any of that would end up, only that he hoped it wouldn't ruin things with Sienna. After so long, Rob hoped they'd be afforded the happiness they'd always chased. He was scared - but for today, he wouldn't be a coward. He would be a drunk. "Sit. Drink." Rob's directions were precise as he sipped his own welcoming drink. "How is the she-devil? And how is Vasilia?" Rob watched his friend closely as he questioned him.

rhys alexander greyback

[rhys alexander greyback]

feel like a brand-new person

but you'll make the same old mistakes

April 30, 2028
EPKE ROBERTUS OPPEDYK

Rhys made a face in agreement, along with a light shrug. Maybe it was some new progressive thing to let werewolves and vampires in the vicinity and exist peacefully alongside such ‘dark magic’. He didn’t know much about druids and their culture, and Rhys supposed their rejection of him discouraged him from learning more. At least there was alcohol for them, which also meant Rhys wasn’t bored out of his mind. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent this many consecutive weeks home outside of Hag’s fever. It was unsettling and claustrophobic. Seeing his daughter was the highlight, of course, but he already missed his life.

”Scandals? Speak for yourself.” Rhys joked, accepting the drink. Rhys felt like a walking scandal, but only because of his name. Somehow that still trumped other parts of his life. Sleeping with his dead best friend’s twin sister? Or better yet, getting her pregnant. Somehow, hearing ‘Greyback’ caused more gasps. Rob seemed a bit in a lighter mood than when Rhys saw him last, but he didn’t comment on it for now. Rhys drank heartily, barely savoring the liquid like other patrons who swirled their drinks in their glasses like they were someone important.

Rhys assumed Rob meant Amelia’s mother, Sage. Despite everything, she was the one that caused the least amount of problems in Rhys’ life these days. ”Fine.” He simply remarked, eyes scoping around quickly to see who was nearby. ”She’s fine as well.” Working. The pub kept her quite busy, something Rhys hadn’t really noticed with all his time away. ”Working too much, as usual.” There was an irony to it all. Despite this new work at Hogwarts and the lack of traveling abroad, Rhys hadn’t been forced to change much about his habits. And since she worked so much, Vasilia was none the wiser. But Rhys just wanted to drink—Merlin knew he didn’t like staying sober for as long as he had.

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[EPKE ROBERTUS OPPEDYK]

Rob passed Rhys a drink and sipped his own silently, momentarily lost in thought. "Whoever first understood the concept of distilling alcohol deserves a prize. Nobel peace or order of merlin, first class," said Rob decisively. He asked after Vasilia and Maria, though he wasn't sure where Rhys stood with either of them. He hadn't seen Vas away from the pub in ages, and even when he did see her, she seemed pale and drawn. He didn't know what was going on between them, but Rob was determined to find out. Especially since it would help him deflect from his own problems.

Draining his glass, he inspected the rest of the wines before them "I don't understand tastings, I don't think," said Rob after a moment. He was itching to try the rest of the wines, but they'd been instructed to wait. "Why hold off? All I need to know is the alcohol content, and how good it tastes," he muttered. He didn't want to think about Sienna or Lyra or the guilt that wrapped around him like a funeral shroud. He just wanted some quality time with Rhys. He peered up at the severe looking sommelier, who had fixed Rob with a glare, and frowned. "Merlin, they're so serious here," said Rob in an undertone, folding his hands in his lap. The sommelier glanced at his watch, then went into a speech about the noble work of druid winemaking. Rob arched a brow and shot Rhys a look - it all seemed a bit over the top to him. Especially when he was so on edge.

rhys alexander greyback

[rhys alexander greyback]

feel like a brand-new person

but you'll make the same old mistakes

April 30, 2028
EPKE ROBERTUS OPPEDYK

”Perhaps a monument in their honor?” Rhys offered flatly. How he had gone through so many years sober, allowing his feelings to circulate, was beyond him. He hadn't stopped once he’d acquired a taste for whiskey during his Cursebreaker trainee years. But, now, they had the niceties out of the way. The typical asking after each other’s partners, though Rhys knew better than to ask the question. Not that he was keen on talking about his own relationships, in any case.

He shrugged, also casting a glance at their host. A few others seemed as twitchy as they were, and others appeared to be sitting for a lecture. ”It helps.” Rhys recalled a time he passed through Hungary, took shots of what he had assumed was vodka but was most certainly not vodka, and wondered what household chemical he’d consumed. Now, the experience would’ve been far less painful had it been a drink with an umbrella. The sommelier strolled to the other side of tables and guests. Rhys glanced around. A few bottles were out for display, but surely the rest were in one of the nearby tents for storage.

”You think they’ll notice a few bottles gone?” Rhys muttered to his friend, eyeing a small unguarded tent. Rhys could get past any simple charms protecting the inventory. It was his job, after all. And he wasn’t in the mood to sip on wine, especially with the rumored strength and quality of druid wine.

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