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

Theseus reached out and squeezed Percival’s hand. Percival stayed still, waiting for his husband's judgement to fall, but looking at Theseus his eyes were kind.

"I am glad he's dead." Theseus said softly. Percival swallowed and inclined his head.
"I'm glad too." He murmured. He wasn't sure whether he should voice that out loud, but it was the truth. Percival was relieved to be freed from Jauncey, and the opportunities he had found since he was released from him. He swallowed and licked his lips, glancing at Theseus. Theseus looked uncomfortable. His grip was still firm around Percival's hand, his thumb stroking the back of Percival's hand.

"You... have been expecting us to hurt you, haven't you?"
Percival looked down and closed his eyes, his own grip squeezing gently around Theseus, drawing strength from the contact with him. He tried to remember the war, remembered how Theseus would smile. Remembered how he had felt safe. He gathered all the strength he had, and nodded once, waiting to see how Theseus would respond. He braced himself for shouting, for punches, for pain.

"You never said." Theseus murmured, and Percival shook his head a little, opening his mouth to apologise and pausing as Theseus pressed a finger to his lips. "We never asked you. Newt and I... we didn't want you to die. When marriage was offered as an alternative, we both jumped at the chance. We never thought about what you wanted, we just thought..." He paused and shook his head, frown creasing his forehead.

"If it had been me." Theseus continued. "I wouldn't have worried. I'd have trusted you, so I would have felt safe. I'm not... I'm not angry you didn't trust me. I'm worried." He wrapped an arm around Percival's shoulder, and Percival leaned into the contact, nuzzling into the warmth of his skin, focused on the heat of him. It was soothing. The arm around him was a security, but he wasn't pinned so tight he would have been unable to escape. Had he wanted to, he could have freed himself in a few brief moments.

It was a surprise to realise he didn't want to.

"You must miss your things." Theseus said after a moment. "Your wand most of all. I know how scared Newt was when it was suggested he might lose his..." Theseus lapsed into silence, clearly lost in his thoughts. Percival sat beside him, his breathing slower now. He wasn't worried. Instead he was focused on the physicality of Theseus against him, the strength of a body that he knew would not be used to harm him. Theseus's hand was on his shoulder, and the contact was warm. It was almost as though Theseus's was giving Percival his strength.

"I can't promise I'll be able to get your wand back." Theseus said softly. "But I will try. There must be other things - you brought so little."

Percival thought of the hidden matchbox, the papers that Seraphina had given him so that he could write to her, along with his own important files - his birth certificate, his first marriage, and reports on some of his cases. Reminders to help him keep his mind. The certificate that had given him to the Scamander boys, like a prize, signed with his own blood.

He also thought of his own apartment, filled with things that he had collected and not been allowed to bring back.
"A few." He admitted, and it was harder than he would have wanted to admit to say those few brief words. He was so frightened of getting this wrong, of managing to anger the man, but this was Theseus.

"You're tired?"
"A little. I wanted to... to keep things good for you, to make you happy, but..."
"We'll have dinner." Theseus said firmly, not allowing any argument as he set out his plan. "The three of us. Then you can rest, and I will look into if I can get any of your things back." Theseus gazed at him. "Is that alright?"

Percival nodded. Being asked for his opinion felt shocking in a way. Jauncey had certainly never cared about what he thought or what he wanted. But Theseus was different.

"Food's ready." Newt called out, and Percival reached for Theseus's hand as the two of them walked in to where Newt had laid out three place settings. Newt waved them over, directing Percival to where an occamy was waiting.

"Had a good talk?" Newt asked, his gaze towards the plate.
"Productive." Theseus answered.

Newt nodded.
"Do you need more of that potion Percival?"
Percival shook his head. He didn't want to be drugged. After everything else, he didn't think he could cope with that. He didn't want to lose focus. Even now, the certainty he had felt with Theseus had faded. This wasn't the war any more, and Theseus wasn't his friend. Theseus was his husband, and the contract he had signed meant that Theseus and his brother basically owned him.

He needed to keep his wits about him. He ate in silence, glad that he knew he was expected to be in his own bed that night.

***

The food tasted like ashes in Theseus's mouth.

He had been trying to save a friend. To make life easier for a man who had been through so much and who deserved help. Who deserved kindness which he hadn't seen so far.

Instead he had left Percival a wreck. The man he knew from the war, that he had read about in the newspapers, was lost behind the sheer terror of what he had been forced to endure. Theseus didn't know what to make of that, other than a sense of bitterness that Percival's first husband was dead. If he hadn't been, Theseus would have taken a great deal of joy in punching the man repeatedly in the face.

Theseus tried to contain his anger. If Percival realised, it would only make things worse. But even knowing that, it was still hard when fury burned within him. Percival had been failed. There was more he wanted to know, but he couldn't ask Percival. Not when the question would be so hard for him. Instead, he would find the answers he needed from their source.

When food was finished, Newt got up and walked Percival back to his room, pausing to feed the Bundimun there. Theseus sent the plates to the sink with a wave of his hand, looking up only as Newt returned. Newt was frowning a little, but he smiled at Theseus.
"He seems jumpy."
"Newt, He has no wand, he's far from home, and he's lost everything he cares about. No wonder he's jumpy."

"We should ask for his wand back." Newt suggested. Theseus frowned, about to point out the stupidity of that idea when he realised that it might just work. If he and Newt were to be in charge of their husband, that meant that they got to decide what was best for him.

"It's worth a go." Theseus conceded. "I'll ask for it. If not, I want you to take him to Ollivander's and buy him a new wand."
"You want me to?" Newt asked, visibly startled.

"I do." Theseus agreed. "I've got a few people I need to talk to. Make sure that the President of MACUSA realises what she has done to him for a start."

Newt paused and then nodded.
"Be careful with him Theseus. The fact he's frightened... I don't think that is all there is."

Theseus remembered the previous night, when he had heard Percival say about his duties as a husband and fought down the bile that threatened to escape.

***

Lying in a bed still felt strange for Percival, but he knew that this was where he could rest at least for a little while. He wouldn't be punished for resting here. Theseus's words echoed in his mind. Theseus didn't expect to hurt him. Theseus knew he missed home.

He got to his feet and walked to the matchbox, writing "S. Picquery." On the front. He didn't charm it, even though it would have been easy to hide such information if he wanted to. On the back he wrote about everything that had happened since his coming to England. Theseus is angry a lot, but it seems more for me than at me. Newt showed me his creatures. It's alright here, they have been kind. I just don't quite understand them. I hope this finds you well. Emboldened by his words, he folded the paper and placed it in the box so it would be transported to the box's double before he had the chance to regret it.

Prompt Post #2

Fill: Who Pays The Piper (13/?)