Dorset Coast - Happier || Rossian

Sunday, January 7, 1923
~ 2 PM

---

"Almost there; keep going."

Cassian led his wife through the field of knee-high wildflowers and tall grasses. It would've been easier to take the floo he'd had set up – probably a good time to test that it worked, too. But, no. For a reveal like this, he wanted the full effect of travelling even a part of the terrain while he built anticipation for where they were headed.

It had been months in the making and numerous hours of manual labour both with his father and on his own. There were weekends when he'd disappeared without an explanation, outright avoiding handing one over even when asked. To say the young man had been elusive would've been the understatement of the century, yet, given how...raw some of their emotions still were, he'd always tried to be as clear as he could that it was nothing Rosie had to worry about. Whether she believed him was something outside of his control, but he'd been working.

The proof of that crested the horizon of the wide meadow, the top of the roofing coming into view. He'd finished the panelling with his father just the weekend before, his father performing a few stress tests after to make sure the first rain wouldn't see them flooded.

They hadn't been walking for long, maybe only 10 mins from where he'd first apparated them, but he was no more inclined to tell her where they were going. It was a surprise and had been since that October evening when his father first took him out there, explaining it was his way of helping. His father tried, imperfectly at times, but the man could never be accused of being insincere. He'd seen his son floating directionlessly, craving stability and a sense of accomplishment. It had been enough for him to speak to a friend who didn't mind parting with a piece of his field for a reasonable price. His father paid it, and he was slowly making payments back to him – by his own insistence. In another three months, they would be all squared. Together, they'd gotten to work, laying each stone and carving out each piece of furniture. There were times when magic had been necessary, but it had otherwise been a project worth more than a vault full of gold.

The time they spent together had helped them more than any pep talk or fishing trip ever had. With sweat on their brows and a shared purpose, the men had worked their way through several emotions.

Now, it was done, and Cassian was ready for his wife to see the fruit of his devotion to providing her with a better life... once he took the blindfold off, of course.

"Not much further," he assured, getting them over the gentle slope and into the yard he'd so carefully tended. Cass hadn't wanted to wait until the end to plant and nourish their yard. When he showed her the cottage, the boy wanted all her favourite flowers to already either be in bloom or damn near on their way but waiting for spring. The result was a lush garden with verdant bushes and beds of flowers and herbs in neat rows that ran along the short stone wall that enclosed the cottage, keeping the rest of the untamed meadow out.

Cass took her around the side of the cottage before the landscape opened up to the cliff with its crashing waves down below.

"Ready?"

He sucked in a breath, realising it was the moment where all his hard work culminated into a final judgement. Would she love it? Hate it? Think he should've gotten her input on what their home should look like? It was too late to worry about all that now. Rebuilding would take months, and he would need her verdict before he began.

Cassian vanished the blindfold to reveal the work of his bare hands.