fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme | Prompt Post #2

ROUND 2

Seeing as we've reached 4,000 comments in Round 1, it's time to make a new one. Same (lack of) rules apply. Gentle reminder to everyone to refrain from posting extremely long prompts, though. While no word limit will be imposed, take note that it is very unlikely for someone to fulfill your prompt if your prompt alone is already several paragraphs long and containing a number of specifications.

ANNOUNCEMENTS:
-(01/14/2016) We now have a TRADING POST where you can exchange fills with people.
-The prompt freeze is over! You may resume posting prompts. The next freeze is scheduled on February 8, 12:00 AM (PST) or if this round reaches 4,000 comments; whichever comes first.
-Due to popular demand, we now have our first couple of rules!
RULE #1: No prompt must exceed 250 words. Any prompt that exceeds that WILL be screened.
RULE #2: Please state RPF in the subject line if your prompt involves real people.
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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The room seemed to spin, but he made himself get to his feet, to check on the top bookshelf. His matchbox was still there. His most precious possession was safe for now. If he lost that, he didn’t know what he would do. It was still there. But the lighter that he had been given by his aurors, the cufflinks which had been layered with protective charms – those were gone.

He sat down on the bed, trying to stave off the terror that was racing in his head. He didn’t know what choice to make. If he should go and beg for forgiveness, admit his sins, or if he should instead carry on without mentioning it. Let the Scamander brothers dictate the situation, and let them decide how and when he could earn his possessions back. Trying to act now would be presumptuous. Trying to pre-empt them could earn more punishment. But he didn’t know what he had done wrong.

He felt angry. It wasn’t fair. That was the overwhelming thought that was hitting him right now. How unfair this situation was, that he was being punished and didn’t know what he had done wrong. Didn’t know how to fix it. He would do anything that they asked for if it meant that he could have kept those things. He allowed himself to close his eyes for a moment, to mourn. It was weak, to break like this, but he couldn’t fight it. Not after everything that had already happened. He was far from home, in a country he didn’t know, faced with rules he didn’t understand.

Memories of the past swamped him. He remembered Jauncey holding his wand, keeping it for safe-keeping. Telling him he wouldn’t really need it, not now. That he wasn’t ever going to be like the rest of the Graves’ family, that he wasn’t a warrior or an auror. He was just a pretty little face to make use of however Jauncey wished. He drew his knees to his chest, his heart racing.

A knock on the door startled him, and he tried to remember what he was meant to have got done today. Nothing came to mind immediately, which meant he had probably done it. Not that would matter – if Jauncey wanted to make him suffer, he would find a reason for it. He would always have a reason for blood if he wanted it. The door swung open, and there was a man there. His first thought was that it wasn’t Jauncey, and he felt sick, forcing himself to relax, to uncurl.

“Perce?” The man asked in a familiar voice, and he frowned, realising it was Theseus. Jauncey was dead. Theseus was his husband now. “You okay?”
“I…” Percival couldn’t bring himself to say yes. Couldn’t lie to his husband about something like this. “What can I do to get them back?” That was the most important thing to him at that moment.
Theseus looked at him blankly, frowning.
“Hey, Perce… you haven’t unpacked even, you okay?” He walked towards the bed and crouched in front of him. “Perce… what’s wrong?”

Percival shook his head. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t explain, just had to hope for forgiveness, for mercy. He doubted that he would get it though. Not with Theseus feigning ignorance.
“What do you need back?” Theseus asked. Percival hesitated for a moment. The lighter was the leaving gift he had been given, but the cufflinks were charmed warm with magic, and were meant to keep him safe. They were his choice, if he had to choose.
“My MACUSA cufflinks.” He answered, making himself confess. “They were in my suitcase.”

Theseus crouched down, looking at the suitcase beneath the bed, his forehead creasing in thought.
“These cufflinks, they weren’t shiny were they?”
“I wasn’t going to wear them. They… they were a gift.” He whispered. Theseus shook his head, standing up.
“Look, I don’t mind where you got them, or who they were from. You wear them as much as you want. I just want to know, were they shiny?”
“Yes.” Percival admitted, a little confused. He didn’t see why it would be that that Theseus was worried about.

Theseus swore softly under his breath, then smiled in a way that didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“I will go and get them for you. Dinner’s nearly ready, but I’m guessing you want those back before you eat?”
Percival managed a nod, and Theseus left the room.

Percival wanted to curl up beneath the blankets and hide from the world but he couldn’t do that. He was representing MACUSA, he had to give a good impression. He couldn’t let Theseus see him as being weak.

He tried to focus on the paper he had hidden, and that which Theseus gave him. He could write to his aurors. Kathern would have to be priority – given her lack of respect for rules she didn’t like, she’d probably visit if she didn’t receive reassurance that he was alright, and the last thing he needed was for her to get into trouble. Tina would need a letter too – the reports about the Grindelwald incident had said that she and Newt had become good friends, so he would make sure she had no reason to worry. Henery would need encouragement about leading the team. Seraphina wasn’t an auror, but she was an old friend. She was the one who understood his past.

He was brought from his thoughts by a knock on his door, and Newt walked in, one hand holding out the cufflinks, and the other pinning a large wriggling ball of dark fur to Newt’s chest. The ball of fur gazed at Percival with large brown eyes.
“Here.” Newt held out the two cufflinks, and Percival took them gratefully.
“Thank you.” He whispered. He didn’t know what the price would be of keeping them, but he had been given them back and he would do whatever he could to keep them safe.

“I’m sorry.” Newt mumbled his gaze looking over Percival’s left shoulder. “I’m afraid that normally I hide polished objects in the bedroom for the niffler to find. He must have seen these and thought it was part of the game…”

Percival quickly put the cufflinks into his shirt, and put the plain ones to one side. There was no point in attempting to hide what he had now that it was known.
“Thank you.” He repeated. He had to show that he was grateful, even if he knew that wouldn’t be enough to keep his treasures.

Newt reached out towards him, and Percival felt himself tense slightly. Newt tilted his head to one side.
“Would you like to be helpful?” He asked softly. Percival nodded, not able to bring himself to speak but wanting to know what he could do to keep the cufflinks. Newt smiled a little. “After dinner would you like to come into the case? I can introduce you to everyone…” His voice trailed off. Looking at Newt, Percival could see he was a little afraid, and he didn’t know how to respond to that.
“I would.” It might be a way that he could start paying off his debt to the brothers, both for saving his life and for all the kindnesses they had shown him since. The pile had grown so high he needed to start repaying them before it collapsed and smothered him.

Newt flashed a smile, his eyes lighting up, and just for a moment he looked as confident as Theseus had been when they had first met. Then Newt’s hesitance was back and he hurried from the room, still clutching the squirming creature.
“Dinner’s ready!” Theseus called, and Percival stood, glancing down at his wrists to check the cufflinks were still there. He left the matchbox where it was, sure it would be safer there than with him.

Prompt Post #2

Fill: Who Pays The Piper (8/?)