Nordstrom Hall :: the wine and the wreckage :: Tilly

Christmas Eve, 1922
Nordstrom Hall
After this

Alice gripped the neck of the wine bottle in her hand as Matilda led her away from the chaos in the dining room she had helped her mother make. Well, her fake mother. She didn’t know who her real mother was. And now, no one else in the Nordstrom family knew either.

The voices from the dining room faded as the distance grew, and she was a bit disappointed she wouldn’t hear what else was said.

“Dad got so maaaaaad,” Alice giggled as her cousin opened her door and pulled her inside. She found it hilarious that she’d pushed enough buttons that he had lost his cool and actually threw a glass.

“Thatcher Ravenstone, nowhere near as cool, calm, and collected as he pretends to be,” she sat down on the bed, stepping out of her heels. She sat cross-legged on her bed, fighting with the cork from the wine bottle.

Once she got it open, she looked at Tilly and smirked. “Don’t worry, Tills, you’re a good one. Let’s drink!” she said and raised the bottle to her lips, taking a long gulp of the red liquid inside.

Well, this was one Christmas for the books.

Tilly pulled Alice into her room, watching as she sat on the bed, and uncorked the wine. The last thing she needed was more wine, but she wasn’t about to take it away right now. “Dad got so maaaaaad,” Alice giggled as her cousin opened her door and pulled her inside. She found it hilarious that she’d pushed enough buttons that he had lost his cool and actually threw a glass. "Thatcher Ravenstone, nowhere near as cool, calm, and collected as he pretends to be.”

The red head was in crisis mode. No words were coming, while her mind went a mile a minute to try and process the shit show that just went down. Tilly walked into Alice’s closet, pulling out a nightdress. Returning to the bedroom, she sighed, watching her cousin guzzle the wine. Approaching her, like a lion with a piece of meat, hands held out in front of her.

“Alice, trade me for a minute.” She said, taking the wine from her, having to put some muscle behind it. “Go, get changed. When you come back out we’ll eat desserts, drink wine and talk.”

Neither girl had thought to grab wine glasses on the way up, so while Alice changed Tilly took a few deep pulls of the red wine. Grabbing another nightgown from the closet, Tilly got changed, grabbed the tarts and climbed into Alice’s bed.

When the bathroom door opens, Tilly gets up, and helps her cousin into bed, leaving the wine on the opposite side of the bed. “Ok, get comfortable. Eat something. I’ll be right back.”

Running into the bathroom, Tilly grabs a hairbrush, washcloth wet with cold water and a few hair ties. Walking back out into the bedroom, she sighed. ”Damn girl, apparently we have some things to talk about.”

Alice frowned when Tilly pulled the wine from her grasp. She wasn’t ready to let it go just yet, she was enjoying the way it made her feel. Especially with all of the shit falling apart around her. She held onto it as long as she could but had no choice but to let go.

“No fun…” she muttered when she stood up and stumbled her way to the bathroom.

After fumbling around with her dinner dress for a bit, Alice managed to get it off and pull her nightdress on. She was ready for more wine by the time she made it to her bed with Matilda’s help.

“Ok, get comfortable. Eat something. I’ll be right back.”

Alice got situated in bed and picked up a fruit tart, taking a bite as her eyes wandered the room for the bottle of wine that she needed more of.

”Damn girl, apparently we have some things to talk about.”

The tart was tasty but instead of actually responding, the dark haired girl just pointed at the wine bottle because despite her intoxication level, she still had manners. Of course she wouldn’t talk with her mouth full.

“You don’t wanna talk to me and that’s okay,” she responded once she’d swallowed the bite in her mouth.

“No fun…”

This version of Alice was new. And a little frustrating. Watching her waddle around like an unruly toddler, pointing at the wine bottle as if that alone will bring it to her. If she wasn’t mistaken, Tilly was pretty sure she just pouted.

For the love…

“You don’t wanna talk to me and that’s okay,” Alice slurred. How much wine had she consumed? The bottle she had grabbed was already two-thirds of the way empty, and the rate at which she was guzzling, it wouldn’t be long before she hit the bottom of the bottle.

Finally ready for bed, two glasses of water in hand, Tilly deposited one on Alice’s side of the bed, and one on hers. Climbing up into the soft blankets, sighed. No, she didn’t particularly want to talk to her cousin. Not after the kiss, but after the blow up down stairs, Tilly knew a lot was going on in Alice’s life.

”Nope, you're not getting away that easily.”

Sitting behind Alice, Tilly pulled her hair back, running her fingers through the long dark strands. ”So… I don’t even know where to begin.” Tilly grabbed a fruit tart, popping it into her mouth, giving her a few seconds to think. ”It appears that your dad is still a complete ass. Wanna tell me what that was all about down stairs?”

Grabbing the brush, just like when they were younger, Tilly started brushing Alice’s hair. It had been weeks since they talked, but for now all past issues would be pushed aside. Alice needed her, and that was all that mattered.

”Nope, you're not getting away that easily.”

Alice scowled at the glass of water that was much more conveniently located compared to the bottle of wine on the other side of the bed. That wasn’t what she wanted.

She sighed and looked down at the blanket as Tilly set to work on parting her hair. The girls, the three of them, had spent many nights braiding each other's hair.

”So… I don’t even know where to begin. It appears that your dad is still a complete ass. Wanna tell me what that was all about down stairs?”

The brunette sighed and her eyes darted back to the bottle of wine. It was mocking her from its spot on the other side of the bed. She suddenly leaned over, rather ungraciously, pulling her hair from Tilly’s grasp for the wine. Once she had it, she grinned and sat up straight, taking a long drink from it.

She didn’t want to think about the scene downstairs, which she hadn’t even started thank you very much. Margery started it.

“Just more lies. That’s all he does is lie, lie, lie,” Alice commented, taking another drink from the bottle of wine. She picked up another tart and popped it in her mouth.

“Margery is not my mum. I dunno who my mum is. Some lady named Sarah,” she commented and smirked. “At least it’s not your cousin that stabbed you in the back, eh?”

Even in her inebriated state, she knew what she wanted. Leaning over to grab the wine, Tilly had to let go of her hair so that she didn’t yank her back. ”You should probably take a hangover potion now, you’re going to have a killer headache in the morning.”

While Alice returned to drowning her feelings, Tilly went back to brushing her hair. It helped having her hands moving, it took away the nerves that came with uncomfortable conversations.

“Just more lies. That’s all he does is lie, lie, lie,” she said, thankfully ending the sentence with another fruit tart. Any food would help soak up the wine.

“Margery is not my mum. I dunno who my mum is. Some lady named Sarah. At least it’s not your cousin that stabbed you in the back, eh?” Tilly sighed, dropping the brush to her side. Still sitting behind her, Tilly encircled Alice with her arms, hugging her tight from behind. Resting her chin on Alice’s shoulder, she was quiet for a minute before talking.

“You know, for someone who doesn't want to talk about what's wrong, you sure keep talking about what's wrong.” A small smile tugged at her lips. Not because any of this was funny, but because if she didn't smile, she might cry. This was all so horrible.

Her arms tightened slightly. “Alice, I don't care who your mother is. You could tell me tomorrow that you were switched with a goblin baby at birth and you’d still be my cousin. You’ll always be my cousin.”

Tilly sighed, tipping her head to rest against Alice’s. “Nothing that happened downstairs, or at school, changes our history. Stolen desserts, summer holidays, playing pranks on Gramps, or the hundreds of sleepovers that we’ve had in this room. You’re not in this alone.”

“You should probably take a hangover potion now, you’re going to have a killer headache in the morning.”

Alice shrugged. She’d feel like shit in the morning and perhaps she deserved it. Either way, she would not stop drinking until the bottle of wine was empty. She’d deal with tomorrow’s effects once it got there.

She drank more from the bottle as she felt her cousin’s arms wrap around her from behind. She frowned, despite her desire to keep things light. Things weren’t light.

Honestly, they’d never be light again.

“You know, for someone who doesn't want to talk about what's wrong, you sure keep talking about what's wrong.”

Another shrug. The hug tightened.

“Alice, I don't care who your mother is. You could tell me tomorrow that you were switched with a goblin baby at birth and you’d still be my cousin. You’ll always be my cousin. Nothing that happened downstairs, or at school, changes our history. Stolen desserts, summer holidays, playing pranks on Gramps, or the hundreds of sleepovers that we’ve had in this room. You’re not in this alone.”

She sighed and chugged more of the bottle of wine. It was almost gone now. She’d finish it momentarily.

It was the you’re not in this alone that broke her. Alice sighed, and with that sigh her composure left her as well. Because in the end, she was alone. She may be a Ravenstone, but she was not a Nordstrom. Her father didn’t want her; saw her only as someone to carry on the name, not someone he loved.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she closed them, relaxing into Matilda’s embrace. Everything that had happened – with Everleigh, with her father, with her mother – all of it was no longer something she could hold at bay. So she just wept until she fell asleep.

Holding Alice while she cried herself to sleep broke Matilda’s heart. Her cousin had been through so much in the last year and a half. With everything blowing up at home, the situation with Ever and now this. It was a shock she was able to function at all.

Matilda woke first, not a surprise, going downstairs for provisions. A pitcher of water, a pain and hangover potion, some homemade croissants and fresh fruit. Alice would probably take one look at the food and run to the bathroom, but it was worth a shot. Seeing Bram in the kitchen didn’t surprise her. ”Good morning. Alice is still sleeping, but I’m going to grab some things and head back upstairs. What happened with Uncle Thatcher and Aunt Margery?”

Bram sighed and rubbed his eyes, taking a large pull from his steaming mug. ”Last night was beyond anything I could have ever imagined. I thought I had lost all respect for Thatcher, and then he goes and drops this bomb. I don’t know the specifics. He wouldn’t divulge much. He wants Alice to return home. I explained to him that she is 17 and can stay wherever she pleases.”

---

Finishing her short conversation with Bram, she settled into bed next to Alice with a book, waiting for her cousin to rise from the dead. She noticed when Alice started to move more, then her breathing changed, and then a moan came out long and low. As soon as she heard the sound, Matilda mixed up the potion with the water and had it ready. Hopefully, it would help take the edge off what was likely to be a monster headache.

”Good morning sleepy head. I’ve got water ready when you are.”

---

OOC: Bram power play approved by me, his human.

Alice didn’t dream. Hell, she hardly even moved. Just slept.

Her head hurt first as she began to stir. Then her mouth felt dry. As her eyes fluttered open, her vision was a bit blurry and a rolling in her stomach began. She groaned in displeasure, recognizing the room she was in as the one at Nordstrom Hall.

”Good morning sleepy head. I’ve got water ready when you are.”

She rolled over, frowning at her cousin briefly before her stomach lurched again. She could cry with how badly her head hurt as she jumped out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. She’d never drank so much in her life.

Once her stomach was empty, Alice washed her face and her mouth. Flashes of the night before – the words that were spoken around family – returned and she felt her eyes tear up again. Her hair was a mess; she remembered Tilly attempting to braid it, but she hadn’t quite cooperated for that.

She made her way back to bed and scooted back so her back was against the wall. She covered herself up and accepted the potion from Tilly. She sniffed the liquid, her stomach not disagreeing with it, before beginning to sip.

Her head was throbbing. “You don’t have to be here. I know you hate me,” she said, similar to what she’d said before sleeping but more intelligible in the dim morning light. Her eyes glanced at the tray of fruit and croissants and she considered helping herself, but decided against it. She wanted to finish the potion that she knew would help her feel better.

Bless Tilly and her abilities.

“You don’t have to be here. I know you hate me.”

Tilly sighed, before climbing back into the bed next to Alice. She knew this conversation was coming and wasn’t looking forward to it. The kiss that rocked Hogwarts.

“I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you.” She said in a sad voice. “Was I really pissed at you? Yeah, understatement.”

Alice was going through one of the hardest periods of her life. When Everleigh was taken, it started a tidal wave of horrible situations, and they just kept on coming. It wasn’t a surprise that she was now making bad decisions. The kiss, the candy, the wine.

“I don’t understand the candy and what it does, but I know you kissing Drago was not you making rational decisions. Him and I have talked. I’d like to hear your side of the story, but no Alice. I don’t hate you. You’re my cousin and I will always stand with you.”

She knew there was more to the story. Drago had mentioned something, but wouldn’t give specifics. Matilda should have come to her sooner, but the red head was not known for her level-headedness when it came to things such as this. It was easier to ignore her cousin and go about her day like she didn’t exist than stop and have the hard conversation. Now she was regretting it.

Wondering if the realization that her mom wasn’t her mom and her dad was a cheating bastard had something to do with the events of early December, Tilly sighed again and began picking at a loose thread on the duvet. “When did all this come out? The stuff about your parents.”

“I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you. Was I really pissed at you? Yeah, understatement.”

Alice closed her eyes, cradling the cup of tea in her hands as she breathed the scent in. She didn’t feel nauseous anymore, but her head continued to throb as if nothing would ever help subside the pain that was lingering there.

“I don’t understand the candy and what it does, but I know you kissing Drago was not you making rational decisions. Him and I have talked. I’d like to hear your side of the story, but no Alice. I don’t hate you. You’re my cousin and I will always stand with you.”

The word ‘cousin’ hurt her heart, just as bad as knowing how she’d hurt Tilly with the kiss, and she sighed. They weren’t cousins. Not anymore. Not in the way that made it official. She frowned deeply, unsure if she could frown any more without her face falling off.

“When did all this come out? The stuff about your parents.”

Alice didn’t want to think about it. She wanted to erase the past couple of years and go back to when the only thing she had to worry about was her sister being too rebellious for their parents to handle. She missed the days when she just had to cover for her, make excuses for her. Now she hardly ever saw Everleigh, and felt her even less. When she was around her, it was like her sister was a big black hole.

She downed the rest of the liquid and then set the cup down and laid back down, bundling herself with the blanket.

“Hogsmeade… When he told me to meet him. He…” Alice closed her eyes again briefly as she thought about what happened after. Her stomach did a flip.

“He told me that I had to go home over Christmas. He kept telling me that he did nothing wrong and then said that Margery isn’t my mother, that my real mother brought me to them when I was seven months…” she said, the frown remaining on her face.

Tears prickled behind her eyes again, as if she hadn’t cried enough about the topic already.