Relaxing with a hard drink

[Bane Orwell]

Bane heard the squeak of his name and turned to face her. He looked over her as she sat there, tears streaking her cheeks. He felt his heart tug and his gut go empty as he watched her. He moved forward slowly until he was before her. He pulled her head gently to his body and stroked her hair softly as he cradled it. He didn't know what to say to her. The things he'd said... he'd had no idea she was a pure blood. He hadn't meant to offend her, his prejudice had gotten the better of him from dealing with that Death Eater.

He tangled a hand in her hair gently and just held her head to him as she cried.

[Wren Taylor]

Choking on her sobs, Wren's whole body was now shaking from head to foot, she was about to pass out, she could feel it, she really couldn't cope with pain.

The pain from her shoulder was shooting down from the break, down the side of her rib cage and to her hip causing her to lean into him sideways. Clenching her fist from the pain, she yelped and whimpered again, forgetting about the broken knuckle. As she winced, her eyes rolled back again and she drew in a deep, sharp breath. The worst mistake she could of made. It caused an eruption of pain, and as she breathed out, her small frame went limp against Bane's stomach.

[Bane Orwell]

Bane gently and carefully scooped her up into his arms. He moved toward the stairwell, being careful to keep pressure off her shoulder... and from running her into anything. As he approached her door he shook her gently hoping to wake her up enough that she'd be able to open the door for him. This was not how this day was supposed to go.

He let out a low yell for Bridget to come and assist him... hoping for once the girl could be of use.

[Wren Taylor]

Grumbling softly, Wren's face screwed up in pain, she wasn't awake long enough to open her eyes. The pain was too much for her to cope with.

With what had been going on in public view, Bridget had cleared out the pub as much as she could. The only people who were left were the over night guests, and most of them were in their rooms upstairs. When she heard Bane bellow for her, she jumped slightly, but composed herself and ran, full sprint up to Wren's quaters, bumping into him softly as she leapt up onto the landing. "Oops...sorry" she mumbled, keeping her head low. "Let me..." shuffling around him, Bridget pulled out her wand and unlocked Wren's main door, swinging it open, she stepped inside and beckoned Bane in. "Anything else?..."

[Bane Orwell]

"Bring me Wren's wand and the leather case on the corner booth table. Do not open the case, Bridget." Bane spoke softly, not wanting to wake Wren up.

He moved as quietly as his boots would allow him to. He carried her to the bedroom and laid her gently on the bed, clicking the hammer on one of his colts and muttering softly to summon a bowl and used his other one to cast water into the bowl. He than called a wash cloth to him and set about wiping her brow. He needed to take care of her arm but didn't know if he was capable enough at the healing arts for that.

[Wren Taylor]

Nodding, Bridget dashed back down the stairs and came back with the items Bane had asked for. Tip-toeing across the wooden floor, she entered Wren's bedroom and placed the two items on the edge of the bed and left again to close up down stairs.

Stirring slightly, Wren winced again and squirmed on the bed under the cold water. "Ah!" she yelped again. Letting her eyes flicker open, they were piercing green against her grey, pale complexion."Bane?..." she breathed, looking more than confused. Her shoulder was visibly broken, the joint was slightly dislodged and the skin was a blue, purple and brown color from the bruising. "Ouch..." she hissed, trying to sit up, "c-can y-y-y-you help m-me u-.....ouch!.....up?" she panted, still trying to lift herself into a sitting position.

[Bane Orwell]

Bane slid an arm around her waist and gently helped her sit up. He looked at her arm and flinched inwardly. He couldn't believe how much damage he'd dealt to her in his anger. He applied a very slight pressure to her bruised shoulder with the wash cloth as he hovered near her.

"I'm sorry...." he whispered softly.

[Wren Taylor]

Wren grimaced and tensed her body in reaction to the pain caused by the pressure. "Please...just....don't...." she snapped, but not out of anger. She really didn't want to think about what had just happened.

Breathing in deeply, Wren dug her nails in to Bane's arm to hold herself up. Her whole body had gone numb and limp due to the breaks. "Can we...just...not talk about it....please?" she asked, closing her eyes and leaning into him, still gasping for breath.

[Miranda Alleyne]

Hard steps clacked on the pavement, boots worn by a frustrated and annoyed looking Miranda. Heavy sacks underlined her eyes and her usual straight-backed marched was unenthusiastic. As the highest-ranking Auror in the Department, Flintock had given her the task of monitoring Hogsmeade before and after they're all needed at Hogwarts, which seemed to include the responsibility of accommodating the entire Office, guarding the village and making sure Hogwarts was secure. With all the work and the memorial tomorrow, Miranda had strained every muscle in her body to make sure everything went smoothly. Then there was a brawl in the tavern.

As she had been heading back to her room in the Three Broomsticks, several people had approached her to let her know there had, only a few minutes ago, been a big fight in the pub. Neither had left apparently and the descriptions matched Bane and the owner of the Three Broomsticks, Wren Taylor. Why they would be fighting would be anyone's guess but, as always, it was her task to clean up. Her arm began to tingle and she flinched; the scar still hurt, from all those years ago. She gave a glance to the Shrieking Shack for no reason she could explain. She'd had people make sure it was clear and close up the tunnel between Hogwarts and the Shack, a passageway which was the strictest confidence of the school and ministry since Potter had made his report. And yet...

Ignoring the feeling, Miranda reached the Three Broomsticks, loosening her wand in it's holster and tightening her brown trench coat. A CLOSED sign sat at the window and Miranda grimaced. It might be late but she had been certain Taylor would keep the pub open until midnight, with all the extra guards running around she would have extra customers and protection until late. And it was only around eleven. She pushed the door open to the empty bar and grimaced. It was a mess. Tables shoved over, glass everywhere. Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, she turned sharply to see a barmaid, who had clearly been in the process of cleaning the room, looking very frightened and confused.

"What happened?" Miranda asked sharply. The girl should recognise her, Miranda had been in and out for the last week but rather frequently the last three days. The rooms upstairs, once private rooms, had become a sort of temporary office and apartment for Miranda while she organized everything. Even if the girl didn't know her name, she felt certain the girl would know that Miranda was in charge.

[Bane Orwell]

Bane held her gently to him and nuzzled the top of her head. He wasn't going to argue with her... he couldn't believe what he'd just done to her. He stroked her back softly and rested his chin on her shoulder. His eyes closed and he whispered softly withotu thinking, "I love you, darling Wren."

[Wren Taylor]

Jumping with shock, Bridget dropped the mop and turned to see a woman behind her. Not thinking, she scowled at the guest and snapped "The bar is closed, can you not read the sign?" picking up the mop, she looked up and took a closer look at the dark haired lady. oh crap she mentally kicked herself. "I'm sorry Miss, I didn't recognize you for a moment there...."

Leaning the mop against the bar top, Bridget turned a chair back to it's upright position and offered it to Miranda. "Miss Taylor had some kind of disagreement with a gentleman ma'am....I'm not sure about the details but everything is sorted now, i'm just cleaning up for the night then going home....is there anything I can get you?" Bridget hadn't expected to get questioned about any of this, she was a bit of an air head after all, and her mannerisms let her nerves show through. She prayed as hard she could that Wren wouldn't get in trouble for any of this.

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Her breathing stopped instantly, her eyes shot open and she bolted upright before remembering how much pain she was in. Letting out an ear shattering yelp, Wren fell back against the bed, her eyes instantly streaming with water from the pain surging through her. "Y-y-y-you....you.....you....w-w-what?" she stammered, going gray once again.

He had said it...hadn't he? He did just tell her he loved her. Wren started to shake violently from head to foot again, but, trying her hardest to block the excruciating pain, she just stared up at him blankly. Had he even noticed he had said it?

[Bane Orwell]

Bane stared at her for a second, his own mind going throguh what he'd just said to her. The words went through his head at high speed over and over again. He realized he DID love her. He leaned in and kissed her softly.

"I said I love you" His voice was soft and barely there.

[Miranda Alleyne]

Miranda relaxed a little but was still uneasy. Trouble this close to home so close to the event wasn't to be tolerated and it clearly couldn't wait. Sighing, she continued to talk to the girl in a tone that allowed no nonsense or argument.

"All the same, I'd like to talk to Miss. Taylor before I go to bed to get the details of what happened, where is she?" She supposed the man must of been thrown out, so it couldn't of possibly of been Bane. She felt if he had to be forced out of a place, he'd leave behind a bit more of a struggle than this. Suddenly, a huge yelp came from upstairs. Drawing her wand, Miranda hurried up the stairs, her boots not seeming to make a sound. Years of practice allowed her to step precisely when needed.

Finding the door she thought it came from, Miranda pushed it open and found Bane leaning over a clearly hurt Wren. They seemed to be sharing something intimate but Miranda, as always, ignored it and went to business. "Orwell, what happened?" she asked, walking to the end of the bed to get a better look.

[Wren Taylor]

Wren's eyes had glazed over, her mouth hung open slightly, and her breathing shallow with disbelief. The thought about possibly loving him and never crossed her mind, but thinking about it, it all kind of made sense.

She could of sat like that for hours, just staring up at him, saying nothing, and thinking very little; but through the haze, another voice entered. Blinking rapidly, Wren shook her head to clear her mind and attempted to sit up again, with another howl of pain she gave up and flopped back down. "What the hell are you doing in my quarters? The bar is closed and up here is one hundred percent off limits without permission from myself. Leave" She barked, her eyes squeezed tight shut in pain, she didn't recognize the woman behind the voice, and frankly, she didn't care, she just wanted the stranger out of her apartment.

Gripping Bane's hand as tightly as she could, the young witch whimpered in pain again. She knew she was coming across as pathetic, but with how petite she was, it shouldn't of been that surprising to him to see that she couldn't handle pain.

[Miranda Alleyne]

(Up here? Me and James had the impression the pub was an inn, since some people seemed to be staying there and it would really be the only place for people to be accommodated in the village. Does she just mean her room?)

"No," Miranda replied simply, then decided to elaborate. She didn't usually explain herself, especially to some one who so definitely needed to be taken down a knot or three. "With the celebration happening tomorrow, I need to know about every disturbance, every fight and everyone. We cannot allow anyone to slip through, the security cannot fail."

She stood on the other side of Taylor from Orwell, grimacing at the bruises. "Why haven't you healed her? Or seen a medi-wizard? There must be half a dozen in the village." Taylor's insistence from privacy made Miranda suspicious, turning what she thought was going to be routine into another one of those 'I have right, yadda yadda yadda, you can't do this to me, yadda yadda yadda issues.