Welcome to the Real World (Mimosa, Vanessa, Jacques & Elenore)

It had been a hard month for Elenore, in truth, not in the typical sense of something being difficult for the average person, because Merlin knew a day in the life of a Clement was not average. But, rather foolishly for Elenore, her hopes had been fed much too easily on the day of the Departure of the Lord and Lady Clement. Elenore had gone with her parents and Jacques and waved them off on their journey to one of the worst places in the world -- anywhere near America was somewhere Elenore never wished to find herself.

As she'd been embraced by her Maman, taking in the delicate fragrance of the Lady Clement that always stifled her senses when she was feeling home sick, the youngest Clement had grown rather excited with the news she was going to be having a surprise. A visitor, to the Palace!

Elenore had, in truth, believed her Maman would be bringing one of the world's renowned musicians to the Palace. Or, if not a musician, then a seamstress who knew of some of the most intricate of designs known to man that could inspire a whole new wardrobe for her, ready for the new year at Hogwarts. Merlin could even hope the seamstress could find some wonderful way of updating the robes of the uninspiring British school so that Elenore would look better every day than she did when she had to pull on the robes of her school.

But, Elenore's hope had been well and truly doused on the arrival of the Lord and Lady Clement from the Cayman Islands and their short trip.

Grandmere had been right, it would seem, as Lady Vanessa Clement, with her cold, darkened heart felt it a necessity to burden her only daughter with the news that she would be actively seeking the hand of one Mycroft Holmes -- after all, Elenore liked him, didn't she? Elenore's look of surprise was not feigned, and the control she knew she should have over her features was not present. From the corner of her eye she could see Jacques stop midway to bringing his food to his mouth, and lower his fork very carefully.

He hadn't known.

But little Mimosa, or sweet little Mimosa had piped up about how wonderful it was, how excited she was, and the conversation -- as it often did -- turned to Mimosa and her wishes that would be granted without a second thought. The child had no idea of the cutthroat world she was being dragged in to, and how the Lord and Lady Clement would sacrifice her in a moment if it meant bettering their own name.

Elenore had managed to get away from her real thoughts on the subject with a small comment on how 'excited' she was by that prospect. But she had not eaten another bite of her dinner, instead pretending to eat until everyone else had finished and the dinner was cleared away. The children were excused, and Elenore had hurried off to her bedroom before Mimosa could catch up, locking the door firmly behind her and ignoring everyone who came afterwards.

The following days Elenore spent with her Grandmere. It did not take a genius to see that her Grandmere was not in the best of health, Elenore had to wonder how long it would be until the Lady Lynnette Clement would be taken to her rightful place in the next world, leaving her granddaughter alone in the world that was so very cruel.

The young Hufflepuff had be scalded for the tears that had drawn their way down her cheeks, with slow and purposeful curves. A lady, Lynnette had reminded Elenore, had no use for tears, they showed weakness, and Elenore must not show weakness if she was going to survive in the pack of wolves that haunted the halls of the Palace. Elenore had not stopped crying, though, until her Grandmere had brought her in to her frail arms and assured her that she, and she alone, loved Elenore exactly as she was.

***

The rest of the month had passed by, Elenore had found even the most trivial of reasons -- including a trip to Diagon Alley -- to get away from the Palace. But the date of tea, the very first day of July, had come around, and Mycroft Holmes had appeared at the Palace. It was one thing, knowing Mycroft as a fellow Pureblood, quite another to accept the older man as her professor, but Elenore simply could not see Mycroft Holmes as a potential life partner.

She did not want to marry him.

She did not particularly like the man.

But Maman was insistent that this match was one that would or could do well.

The tea had been awkward. Understandably so. Elenore had tried every avenue of conversation a young lady was well versed to use. She had tried to start conversation on the Clement business when the normal routes weren't taking off, but that did not work either. Cautiously, Elenore had reached out for the topic of Mycroft's work, but once again, the Holmes heir had not wanted to really go beyond polite conversation, and after the respectable time of an afternoon tea had elapsed, Mycroft Holmes had left the Palace in little more than a rush.

She could not even ensnare a man of her mother's choosing with conversation, Elenore could not deny that it filled her with the deepest pit of worry. Her life, she was sure, was going to involve a lifetime of solitude. A man who could never love her like her Papa loved her Maman, because the gods were never looking down to her in her favour.

One hand was placed gently on her stomach as Elenore climbed the stairs in her afternoon finery, holding herself together as she hurried past servants with pitying eyes until she finally emerged in the spacious surrounding of her bedchamber.

The door closed softly behind her, but Elenore had not thought to lock the door. The staff always knocked, her Maman would be much too disappointed in her knowing Mycroft had already left, and Jacques had taken Mimosa off for the day to keep her out of the way of the tea.

By the time Elenore had placed her hand on the top of her dressing table, the sobs had started to wrack through her slender frame. Trying to contain the violent shudders through her body, Elenore brought her hand to her mouth in an effort to keep her grief from being heard by the world.

A lady did not cry.

Elenore couldn't help it, though, all she wanted was for her Maman to be proud of her. To do something that would honour the family name, build it, make it greater than it was, but she could't. The one thing the Lady Clement had asked of Elenore, and she'd let the young man walk away.

Her place at the castle, was, as ever, in jeopardy from the Clement Ward.

She was going to be replaced, she could feel it, by a child of no true heritage.

Because, in her mother's eyes, Elenore was no Clement.

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From the moment she had touched down in France, Mimosa’s life had been almost unnbearably exciting. As much fun as the wedding had been, being with her family in Versailles was so much better. Grandpere and Grandmere hadn’t been there to receive her but when she landed but Jacques had been there. The almost ten year old had ran as fast as she could to him, the only difference with Jacques was that she never had to stop herself before reaching him. The Clement heir always knew how to catch her right off her feet and swing her around before hugging her so the impact wouldn’t hurt her but the rush of speed would not go anywhere. Mimosa had never told Jacques but she loved being swung around in the air by him, it felt like the best kind of flying in the world.

Elenore had been there too, and after she was done greeting Jacques, the child had promptly thrown her tiny arms around Elenore’s slender figure, hugging the young lady fiercely before letting go and peppering her with dozens of questions all in one breath. The questions hadn’t stopped throughout the carriage ride to the palace (as usual, a full crowd had came out to watch the Clements make the journey, Mimosa even leaned out of the carriage a few times to wave frantically to the people gathered) nor through evening tea or dinenr. In fact, since Jacques had some work to do, she had been happy to give Elenore company. Mimosa had even offered to sleep beside her Elenore but Elenore had pointed out that Grandmere may not like it, thus making the child return to her own bedchamber. Luckily Jacques had looked in on her before bedtime and even bought her a new book. Mimosa fell asleep to the sound of his smooth voice reading the story of Ser Storme and Lady Lissette.

The next day, he child woke up bouncing once again because it was the dat Grandmere and Grandpere would be coming back. Realzing that they would actually get to go to the harbor and see the boat the Lord and Lady Clement were returning on, Mimosa ran straight out her room and burst into Elenore’s without knocking, stopping to her feet when she saw one of the servants helping Elenore get dressed. An embarrassed apology later, the child continued her questions and commentary but soon, she was whisked away to get dressed too. That afternoon, the three of them took the grand carriage to go pick up Grandmere and Grandpere and once again, the child couldn’t keep to her seat, buzzing with too much energy to be contained. She sat on one of the horses for a bit, then returned to the inside of the carriage, than sat on the top of the carriage holding on the rails.

When they arrived at the docks, Mimosa was clinging to one of the horses again, unable to sit side saddle, she had her legs apart and wrapped firmly around the back of a black horse (the usual compliment of four black and four white horses pulled the grand carriage forwards). As a result, she was the first one down when the carriage came to a stop and running towards the docks where the Lady Claudia Clement had been spotted. Jacques had stayed behind to help his sister if needed but he still reached before Elenore who came in last, beautifully managing her long gown. Despite the strong wind at the docks, Elenore’s hair stayed in place whereas Mimosa’s were windblown from the journey. The little witch would have to ask Elenore what her secret was? Did the Hufflepuff girl use lots of hairspray?

As soon as Grandpere and Grandmere appeared on desk, Mimosa let out a loud squeal, waving energetically at them to show them she was here. The couple descended the ship gracefully, Grandpere bending down to immediately pick her up as Grandmere hugged and kissed her. Mimosa’s grandparents always greeted her together like this, there was nothing separate about them, they did everything together. After greeting her, they moved to their children, hugging them both in turn. The ride back was just as exciting but in a quiet way. Mimosa settled on her grandpere’s lap this time, almost closing her eyes as the family talked of some meeting and someone coming for tea. Mimosa didn’t really pay attention, it wasn’t about her or Jacques so it couldn’t be that important. Just something about returning a favor to someone called “Olmes.

It was only the next day that details for the tea were fully revealed. Elenore had gone off to Diagon Alley to do some last minute school shopping and while Mimosa had wanted to go with her, the older witch had reminded Mimosa that all her things were already bought. Before Mimosa could get upset however, Jacques had reminded her that they would do a prep run for the maze she planned to conquest this summer and the child’s face had glowed with happiness once more. That morning Mimosa had informed Grandmere of her plans and how she intended to return victorious, making Grandmere smile proudly. By eleven, Mimosa was all ready to head out, and then the clouds had came rolling in. Seeing her face fall, Grandmere had immediately recruited Mimosa for her expert opinion on formal tea arrangements, insisting that this was a special occasion and they had to do their best because it was for Elenore’s future. In the end, Grandmere made her see that the rain was a good thing, helping Elenore was a lot more important than solving some maze.

That night when Elenore returned, Mimosa was waiting up for her. She had missed her Elenroe and wanted to tell her all about what she’d dozen at the palace while the older witch was gone. In her excitement, the child let slip the special preparations for tea, the gown her Maman had picked out for her and how if the occasion went well, Mycroft might become a part of their family. This followed a million questions about who Mycroft was, what he did, was he good looking, did Elenore have a picture of him, did he like horse rides and candy? Elenore answered some questions but she remained quiet for the most part, probably just listening to Mimosa’s voice. Elenore was brushing her hair when Mimosa fell asleep exhausted on the witch’s bed, only to wake up next morning in her own room. Her new nanny had carried her, she was informed by Grandmere the next morning at breakfast. Elenore was not present at the table. Grandpere said she was having breakfast with his Maman in Lady Lynnette’s withdrawing room.

The Lady Lynnette scared Mimosa but the child had not admitted so to anyone. She had first met Grandpere’s mom when she was really little and Lady Lynnette had looked at her like she was… somehow wrong. Since then, the child had always been hesitant around the old witch, even though she knew her reserves were probably silly. No one Elenore loved so dearly could ever be scary. In fact, Mimosa was sure this new Mycroft person wouldn’t be scary either if Elenore loved him. Jacques said people married for love and if a marriage was being arranged, it meant he and Elenore loved each other. Though by that logic, Mimosa should also marry Elenore because she loved the witch too. But adults were confusing that way.

Elenore spent more time in her room or with her grandmere over the next week, probably making preparations for the tea which was causing almost as much excitement in the palace as it was in Mimosa. Even the staff looked sharper and everyone waited on Elenore more in this week, tending to her needs. She was even given special baths with rosewater which looked really fun and smelled super nice. Mimosa had snuck in to see the set up before Elenroe arrived. There were rose petals and scented oils and lots of bubbles. Maybe getting married was fun if there were bubbles involved. She would have to ask Jacques.

On the afternoon of the special tea, Elenore emerged from her room looking like an angel in her white beautiful dress, making Mimosa feel both proud and ache-y in her heart because she knew she would enver look as pretty as Elenore. Mimosa had always thought Grandmere was the prettiest person in the world but today, she knew it was actually Elenore when she dressed like this. Her dress looked like it was made from clouds and the diamons glowed almost as well as her skin. As the family waited at the door – Mimosa right between Grandmere and Grandpere – to greet Mycroft, the child could feel the quiet electricity in the room. When the Butler finally announced the arrival of Monsieur Mycroft Winston Holmes, Mimosa finally had the opportunity to put a face to the name. A face she might have to get used to seeing beside her Elenore from now on.

Mycroft seemed like a nice man, even if he talked really little. Mimosa wanted to ask him a dozen questions but she restrained herself, remembering Michelle’s lessons. Elenore was of course being a proper lady and remaining quiet, only speaking when directly addressed. Mimosa would have to act like her if she wanted to be a real lady. Before tea, Grandmere suggested Elenore take Mycroft to see the gardens and though Mycroft said he didn’t care for the scenery, Grandmere promised him it would be worth it. He and Elenore left for a bit while the rest of the family adjourned to the library until tea was called. Elenore and Mycroft both returned from the gardens with red cheeks and awkward stances which made Jacques grin for some reason. Mimosa would have to ask him about that later too.

Tea was a myriad of polite conversations. Apparently Mycroft had been to whatever place Grandmere and Grandpere had been in the Carribeans but they hadn’t had a chance to talk. Possibly some crime had happened which was being investigated and that made Mycroft’s job more difficult. In fact, he was only in France for tea as he had to return to England that very evening. From what Mimosa gathered, Mycroft did a very important job in the UK and he also taught at Hogwarts which meant he was really smart. She was glad to know that, Elenroe should get someone really smart. The evening finished with a round of drinks in the study while the ladies retired to the parlor. Mimosa spent the whole time wondering what Grandpere, Jacques and Mycroft would talk about in the study but no one told her. Even though she asked Elenore multiple times, even tugging her arm. In the end, Grandmere suggested that Elenore might be too nervous to speak and tried to reassure her daughter.

Finally, the guys came out and Mycroft thanked everyone for a good time. He shook hands and bowed where necessary and when it came Mimosa’s turn to curtsy, the child changed tactics, moving forwards to hug him around the middle instead. If he was going to be family, he would have to get used to hugs. After he’d left, Mimosa confidently turned to the family and announced “I like him”, breaking the tension all around. Grandpere chuckled and patted her head while Grandmere told her it wasn’t that simple or quick. Jacques sided with her, saying he liked Mycroft too, but he looked at Elenore when he said that, like he was teasing her. Elenore turned away, Mimosa suspected to hide her blush.

Soon enough, Elenroe excused herself to go change and the family gave her the time she needed. No one was discussing Mycroft, in fact, Grandmere looked a little worried. Mimosa wondered why. After all, she had put so much effort into the tea, shouldn’t she be happy Elenore and Mycroft loved each other and wanted to get married? There were so many questions she wanted to ask. Like when the wedding would be and where would Elenore live. Mimosa couldn’t bear the idea of Elenore leaving the palace. Maybe Mycroft could move in with them, surely there was enough room? If not, Mimosa could give up her own bedroom for him. She would do anything to make sure Elenore stayed at her home, and if not, the child decided resolutely, she would go with Elenore wherever Mycroft took her. Yes that was the new plan. If Elenore couldn’t stay at the palace, Mimosa could stay with Elenore.

Deciding to tell Elenore this right away, the child determinedly made her way to the heiress’ bed chambers where she entered once more without knocking. “Elenore!” she announced, plopping herself down on the older witch’s bed. “I’ve decided I’m going to live with you after you and Mycroft are married. I’ll make sure you aren’t alone. I’ll go with you on your honeymoon like Uncles Seb and Aiden will soon, and I’ll sleep in the next room because you and Mycroft will have to share a room like Grandmere and Grandpere. And we can have a great time together!” All this was delivered with a smile, a smile that slipped away when another thought occurred.

“Oh, when will the wedding be? Can I be Chief Flower Girl? I’m really good at it, I promise. I was just one in Venice and I did everything perfectly. Oh, you’ll look so good as a bride, and Mycroft will look good standing next to you too! Please say I can be part of the wedding group, pleeeeaaassseeeee Elenore.”

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Welcome to the Real World (Mimosa, Vanessa, Jacques & Elenore) Rsz_mi10

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A river of tears had cascaded down the youngest Clement's cheeks, staining their paths down through her makeup without a care for the hours of preparation it had taken for the witch to get ready for one Mycroft Holmes' arrival at the Palace. Whilst her hand held in the noise of the sobs that wracked through her body, the slow reddening of her eyes, and the inevitable but slow process of the the puffing of her eyes had begun.

Little to nothing could now rectify the young witch's current looks, but she had time to think about that once the bout of tears had subsided.

Or, so the youngest Clement had believed.

She'd barely heard the noise of her bedchamber door, but the movement in the mirror had caught Elenore's eye. She'd not managed to take note of her visitor, but had turned herself away from the movement so that her current state could not be noted by her intruder. Elenore took a deep breath, steadying her breathing, holding on to the sob that threatened to be let out in to the room, and swallowing it before it could materialise. Defying the reactions of a 'normal' person, and pretending beyond anything else in the world that she was in control of herself, her emotions, this situation.

Her bed gave out a small groan and Elenore knew in that moment that it could only be one person who had just entered her room. Her brother would never sit atop her bed, he would have stayed by the door, and at least started a conversation before assuming he could enter her room. Her Papa would have knocked and waited for her to admit him, despite him being the Lord Clement, he seemed to have some respect for her private quarters. Maman was much the same, though, perhaps with less respect for the private quarters, Maman always knocked before entering.

The lack of etiquette pointed to only one other person in the Palace.

Mimosa.

It was just another point, another part of the small witch's existence that existed to test Elenore's self control. Something that Mimosa had been testing from the first moment she'd arrived at the Palace for the summer, and something Elenore was finding increasingly difficult to not speak out on. How did everyone else in the castle not see that the young witch was spoiled beyond repair? How did they not see that Mimosa was making a mockery out of their legacy with her childish behaviour? How... was Mimosa supposed to replace her, when she couldn't act properly for five solid minutes?

As the younger witch started to talk, Elenore lowered her hand from her mouth, bringing it to the desk to steady herself because her anger was flaring.

"I’ve decided I’m going to live with you after you and Mycroft are married."

Elenore felt her chest ache, fresh tears threaten to grace her cheeks.

The child doesn't understand, she tried to reason with herself, to take the anger from her body, but she was boiling. Was it not enough that she'd just disappointed her Maman, now she would have to be ridiculed by the Clement Ward, too?

"I’ll make sure you aren’t alone."

That, hit Elenore harder than poor little Mimosa could ever have understood. Alone was something Elenore was quite used to in this Palace, something that was forced upon her given the fact her Maman had opted to play favourites without fair objectives. Jacques had already been set upon a pedestal before she'd come in to being, and from there, Elenore had never had a chance to be her own person. Always second fiddle to Jacques because he could do something better.

"Mimosa..." Elenore tried, but her voice was so soft, and so shaky the younger witch wouldn't have heard even if she'd not been talking in that moment.

"I’ll go with you on your honeymoon like Uncles Seb and Aiden will soon, and I’ll sleep in the next room because you and Mycroft will have to share a room like Grandmere and Grandpere. And we can have a great time together!"

Once again the younger witch's words hit through Elenore like a train. She had no clue of what was happening, and what was not happening. She believed in all stories, all lives, ending up in a fairy tale. Happy. Free. Perfect. But there was no such thing as that in this Palace. There was no such thing as happiness as a Pureblood wife.

"Mimosa..." Elenore tried once more, a little louder than before, but washed over once more by the young witch's excitement. Another time, Elenore might have been much more forgiving of Mimosa's constant flurry of excited questions, another time, Elenore might have been able to play along, and tell Mimosa that this was going to go well, that she too was excited, but for now they would have to keep the planning to a minimal effort. Another time, though, was not what the two of them had to play with.

And then came the tangent of questions from the younger witch.

“Oh, when will the wedding be?"

"Mimosa."

"Can I be Chief Flower Girl?"

"Mimosa."

"I’m really good at it, I promise. I was just one in Venice and I did everything perfectly."

"Stop it."

"Oh, you’ll look so good as a bride, and Mycroft will look good standing next to you too!"

"I said-"

"Please say I can be part of the wedding group, pleeeeaaassseeeee Elenore.”

"SHUT UP!" Elenore shouted in stark contrast to the softer tones in which she'd tried to get the nine year old to be quiet. It was not, in truth, how Elenore would normally have asked the young child to be quiet, but this was not the normal circumstances. "You... you have no right!" Elenore told the younger witch as she turned from her dresser, noting how her body was shaking in a manner she had never experienced before. Her emotions were not in control, and a small voice in the back of her head was warning her against the next words she was going to speak, but Elenore was not listening to reason.

Elenore was listening to the small voice that was telling her it was okay, to hurt others because you were hurting, no matter who they might be.

Her eyes had zoned in on poor little Mimosa, everything else becoming a blur in her periphery that no longer mattered enough to take notice of.

"You have no right to burst in here. To question me in such a manner without my leave to do so. You're... you're not a Clement, you have never been a Clement, you will never be a Clement, but we have to put up with your presence in this Palace. For what?" Elenore asked, her voice reverting to it's usual level, but with the iciest of tones evident in each word.

"You dare enter my room, unannounced, you dare to question my future, my potential marriage alliances, without having a single clue what you're talking about!" Elenore continued on, shaking her head in a manner that left a number of her deep brown hair clinging to the moisture on her cheeks. "A child who can't even write her own name without making unimaginable mistakes dares to question a Clement, and my Maman lets you.

"Just because you're replacing me one day, Mimosa..." A shudder ran through Elenore's body as she spoke, her leg barely holding her up as they shook. "But you do not have the authority to question me yet!"

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The shout from Elenore took the little witch by surprise, so much surprise in fact that she lost her voice midway through a question. It wasn’t that she hadn’t heard Elenore ever shout before – which admittedly she never had. She’d never heard Grandmere shout either, the child now realized. But Clara shouted a lot, mostly at Grandpa. Mimosa wondered what was he difference between Clara and the Clements – but rather she had always thought Elenore couldn’t physically raise her voice. This outburst therefore completely threw the young brunette off. So much so that she couldn’t even begin to take offense in the words Elenore had said, still marveling over the older girl’s tone.

But Elenore had more words, words that sounded confusing and… felt wrong. What did she mean how Mimosa dared? There wasn’t any daring to going into someone’s room. She went into a lot of rooms, she always came in here too. So why was… Why was her Elenroe saying she wasn’t a Clement. “But I am a Clement,” the child insisted, trying to reassure Elenore that everything was okay, that they were family. “Grandmere and Grandpere always say so. They say I’m the petit Clement, remember?”

Perhaps the French word would sooth Elenore who looked like she was shaking. Mimosa had been doing better in her French lately. To demonstrate, the child parted her lips once more. “D'accord, je peux parler français meme,” she garbled, trying to remember how the word arrangement worked. She may have gotten it a little wrong but that didn’t matter. She was a Clement just like them. And Elenore knew it too, she was just confused.

Oh, that was it. Elenore was confused. Slowly, a smile spread on Mimosa’s face just as Elenore said something about replacing her. Elenore was just nervous about being married. She had seen uncle Seb pace a hole in the ground before his big day, this was just the same. No one was in trouble. The girl carefully hopped off the bed and reached out to Elenore. “It’s okay, Elenore, I know what you’re having, I saw it before. Uncle Seb calls them “wedding jitters”, he had them even though he loved Uncle Aiden big much. You’re probably having them because you love Mycroft big much too. And you love me big biiiig much.” The girl would reach out to try and hug Elenore should the Hufflepuff allow.

The barb on her writing made her pause. What would her writing have anything to do with… And When Mimosa realized what it meant. Her cheeks flushed bright pink as she lowered her gaze. Mimosa had begun to suspect there was something… wrong with her, but she hadn’t really thought about it. And with people always sending her quills to do the job she couldn’t, there had never been reason to doubt her ability. But Elenore thought… Did Elenore think it was a big deal. “I’m working on my writing with Michelle,” the nine year old mumbled, looking down at the rug she stood upon. “I promise I’ll improve. I’ll handwrite all your wedding invitations myself, they’ll be beautiful, you’ll see.” The child looked up hopefully.

“Please be happy Elenore, you’re going to be the most beautiful bride, you’ll look even better than you did today. I bet Grandmere and Grandpere would marry you off even before you finish school, and I’ll go with you like I said. I want to stay with you, wherever you are.” The words were true and heartfelt, and whoever was going to replace Elenore would just have to stay at the palace all alone. “Oh and who’s replacing you? I didn’t know someone was? Why do you even need replacing? Is it because you’re going away and Grandmere and Grandpere will really miss you? If that’s the case I guess I can divide my time between you and the palace.” Yes, now that she thought about it, perhaps that was Elenore’s main concern.

“Oh, I have an idea, maybe I could replace you? That way, a non-Clement doesn’t need to come in. I can stay with you but also at the palace. I do lots of travelling so I can manage to live in two places – and go back to Grandpa and Clara too of course.” This was the ideal solution in the little witch’s head. Elenore would much prefer being replaced by Mimosa than some random stranger. “I already know everything about living at the palace. And I’ll take care of Grandmere, Grandpere and my Jacques really well. They all love me already, you know that.” Mimosa was sure this would calm the older brunette. Once again, the little witch’s clever mind had solved everything.

"Everything will be alright Elenore, you'll see," the child reassured her companion. "I'll be the best replacement ever. No on will miss you at all with me around, I swear!"

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Mimosa was not nearly clever enough for her age. Where the Lady Clement had believed her daughter to be an underachiever, she had not taken care in bringing in a ward to better the Clement name. No, instead she'd brought in a unintelligent, incapable American brat who thought the world revolved around her. A child who would only ever bring the Clement name down in to ruin, and not build the name to the greatness it deserved.

A child that had the audacity to use the French language with the foul American accent of hers, that Elenore loathed more than anything in the world.

A child who could not even string the simplest of sentences together.

The whole time, Elenore was shaking her head in the smallest of manners, tears forming in her eyes, but never falling down her cheeks as she breathed slowly in the last ditch effort to keep herself calm. But if ever someone was seeing red, it was Elenore in that moment, struggling to see a positive outcome in the world in which she'd failed her parents, and everything the Clement name stood for.

Once again no amount of attempts to shut the child up from her tangent of questions and answers to everything Elenore had said was making the witch's frustration grow, until finally a single tear fell from it's cage. A tea that only made Elenore more angry with herself in that moment, because she was not the concealing her feelings correctly. Not concealing them adequately.

"You. Are not a Clement." Elenore reiterated without hesitation after Mimosa finally let her cut in. "You are a Harrington. You will always be a Harrington, and nothing more than that. A Clement is much more than... you."

"You can't talk French like a Clement, you're still falling over all of the words, the structure, your sentences. You're not trying hard enough to warrant your place at the Palace, Mimosa! You don't understand what it is to be a Clement, you never will!" Elenore continued, more tears falling from her cheeks because she was too exhausted to keep them from spilling.

As Mimosa moved towards her, Elenore backed away from the hug, unceremoniously knocking in to the dresser which sent the countless bottles and boxes to shuddering in to one another. "Don't touch me!" Elenore deflected the advances with more hostility than was necessary to the younger witch.

The mere thought of Mimosa trying to improve her writing brought a scoff from the French witch, who shook her head. "Non, Mimosa. Whilst everyone else thinks you can be fixed, you can't. You're... you're broken. You will always be so." Elenore explained, a wry smile on her features because nobody dared to see what Elenore saw. "You're dyslexic, and nobody but me can see that. You will never write like a lady."

And then, then it was the thought of replacement, which had Elenore's insides turning themselves inside out.

"A lady, Mimosa, is always replaceable. She has no place in our world. Another, younger, prettier witch will always come along to replace someone like me. My replacement has already been chosen." Elenore explained, motioning to Mimosa. "Maman has always set out to replace me, to marry me off, to get rid of me from the Palace, Mimosa. That's why you're here. You're just a pawn in the Lady Clement's games, as we all are."

By the time Elenore had finished, her voice had lost it's strength. Her willpower to hurt Mimosa was gone, and she was ready to collapse. She wouldn't, of course, not until Mimosa had left, but she'd said her piece.

Made her feelings clear.

If Mimosa could not understand that she was just a toy in the games of the Palace, then there was no hope left for the child.

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Spoiler:

Tea had gone much too well for the Lady Clement’s carefully contained liking. On the surface, Vanessa was the perfect hostess, she had even found Mycroft Winston charming in an aloof manner. Charming yet so different from their passionate and opinionated Elenore even if Elenore contained that part of herself to only her art. What her daughter never said out loud, Vanessa noticed in Elenore’s embroidery, paintings, musical compositions and sportsmanship. The young lady always used a color too bold, a note too high, stitched a thread too complex or shot an arrow with a bit too much intent for comfort. How the child had ever thought she and this tight lipped, traditional man would make a good match was beyond Vanessa, but young love was known to make miracles happen. Perhaps Elenore had fooled herself into thinking Mycroft would balance out her passionate side. Elenore’s passionate side didn’t need balancing as far as her mother was concerned, it needed to be brought out and appreciate for its vision and uniqueness.

And yet Elenore had played the perfect, docile lady.. Smiling, blushing, not speaking unless spoken to. She had shown every sign of tepidness and obedience in front of Mycroft Winston, making Vanessa realize that her daughter was deeper in love than she could have realized. All evening, Myroft Winston had slowly won over the family, discussing politics with Louis and Jacques, complimenting Vanessa’s organization skills and even remarking on how well Elenore was doing both in and out of school. Finally, the Lady Clement had played her ultimate hand, sending them off together. If they returned rosy cheeked and sparkly eyed, then all was doomed. And they did return amid a cloud of embarrassment and awkwardness that rather hinted the end of Vanessa’s ambitious hopes for her daughter.

Little Mimosa had of course, stolen the evening, leaving a smile on everyone’s face as she hugged their guest before he had to leave. The child really was a bright ray of sunshine in the palace. While Vanessa adored both her children, they were raised to be quiet. The Lord and Lady Clement’s granddaughter could never be ignored or overshadowed. When Elenore had left for Hogwarts, the fear of losing her children had been constant, until Mimosa’s trips to the palace became more regular and then there was always a silver voiced angel to distract them from counting the days until the children returned. After Mycroft Winston had left, Elenore excused herself which was Mimosa’s cue to burst into questions. Questions Vanessa herself couldn’t answer right away because she was still processing the fact that she and her daughter… were very different people.

Fortunately, Jacques had distracted the child with something or other, leaving Vanessa to sink down on the love seat by Louis who cast a concerned glance her way but said nothing. The brunette simply smiled a tired smile his way, trying to say without words that it was merely exhaustion. Soon she would have to approach him with their daughter’s decision, she would have to phrase it in the least antagonistic, most positive way. But that would take time seeing as right now, even Vanessa couldn’t frame it positively in her own mind let alone convince someone else of its merits.

In the periphery, Mimosa’s questions continued until Jacques finally suggested the little witch ask Elenore herself. Mimosa had never needed telling twice, her obvious adoration of Elenore sending her bounding up the stairs. Long after the little one’s foottfalls faded, Jacques came to sit by his Maman as well, the look of concern on his face matching his father’s precisely. Vanessa couldn’t help but smile, reaching up to affectionately stroke the side of his head. “You and your Papa are the greatest gifts in the world,” she murmured happily, the warmth in her eyes reflecting the sincerity of her words. It was only after Louis had retired to the library that Vanessa stood to her feet, slipping an arm through Jacques’ and leading him toward the large chamber that housed the stairway to the family’s living quarters.

“So, how do you find Mycroft Winston?” she began tentatively, hoping Elenroe had confided at least a ittle to her brother. The children were clse in age, they could shre important things, could they not? Jacques on his part kept his assessment shot, stating that Mycroft may prove a useful ally in the many business ventures they owned and ran, and was an amicable if quiet fellow as far as company was corner. Jaques then looked pointedly to his mother, asking the question she ahd not even dared think too loudly.

“Does Elenore approve?”

“I’m afraid this tea was by her design and desires,” Vanessa admitted, trying hard to keep the disappointment from her tone. Her daughter had every right to be different, to want different things from life. “She is too young of course, regardless of how ready she feels. Your Papa will not like this at all, so let’s hope the Gods find a way to stay the inevitable for a few more years.” Sighing softly, she rested her head on her son’s strong shoulder for a brief moment. “You aren’t going to find someone and leave me too, are you my darling?” she asked, only half joking.

Jacques let out a soft laugh, hugging his mother just a little bit tighter. "I will never be able to leave you, Maman, this is my home." The words were soothing to her ears, especially at the prospect of one of her children planning a departure much too soon. But Jacques wasn’t finished speaking. Turning to her, the young man added seriously. “And I don’t believe Elenore intends to leave either. At least, I’ve never gleamed that impression from her. This is her home too.” They both lapsed into silence as they ascended the stairs together, each lost in their own thoughts about the crucial moments they might have missed which led Elenroe to decide she wanted to marry. When he first floor landing appeared but nothing came to mind, bothmother and son simultaneously looked at each other with the exact same idea.

“Why don’t we ask her?” they both spoke at once before laughing quietly at their synchronized thoughts. So instead of Jacques escorting her to her own rooms, the young heir steered his mother higher up the winding stairs, to Elenore’s wing of the palace. Mimosa would probably have fallen asleep on Elenore’s bed as usual, which meant Jacques could take the child to bed while Vanessa talked to Elenore openly about her decisions. It wasn’t the best solution but it was better than not knowing.

As they approached the second floor landing, a din of uncompressible sounds met their ears, making them both look up in surprise. Still, Mimosa was around so noise was simply something they had to bear with fond smiles. If the child was still up, Jacques would prove even more sueful in distracting her and putting her to bed. The air of calm replaced Vanessa once more, until they neared Elenore’s door which was left a small ways open, no doubt by the same little American making all that noise.

"You have no right to burst in here. To question me in such a manner without my leave to do so. You're... you're not a Clement, you have never been a Clement, you will never be a Clement, but we have to put up with your presence in this Palace. For what?

The noise, the filth streaming through the partly open door was not from the little irl. At irst Vanessa found herself reaching fro her wand. Who could have snuck into her daughter’s private chambers and be causing such a scene. But a moment later, the icy realization hit. It s was Elenroe doing the veom spewing. The Lady Clement’s blood ran cold, making her stand frozen in her plae, her breathing all but stopped. Jaques hand was ready to study his Maman but as they waited, more and more outbusrts in Elenore’s voice spewe from the room. What appeared to eb pure, unadulterated hatred for Mimosa making itself known from the Clement heiress.

"Non, Mimosa. Whilst everyone else thinks you can be fixed, you can't. You're... you're broken. You will always be so. You're dyslexic, and nobody but me can see that. You will never write like a lady."

Jacques let forth a small snarl at that, his gaze torn between rushing to Mimosa’s rescue and staying with his mother. In the few seconds It took for him to decide, Vanessa was back to breathing, nodding in his direction. Jacques took the few steps needed and unceremoniously pushed the door open wide, his cold gaze on his sister.

“That’s quite enough,” he announced, his voice soft and dangerous before his eyes turned to Mimosa. “Mimosa, come with me please. We’ll give Elenore Lissette and Maman some privacy.” It was at the mention of the little girl that Vanessa finally took in the trembling child, her eyes thus far solely on her daughter who was responsible for the horrible words still hanging in the room. Petit Mimosa’s entire body shuddered at the attacks but the child’s blue grey eyes, so much like her Grandmere’s refused to betray a single tear. Also for the first time in her life, the little brunette did not obey Jacques’s every command, her frightened features instead resting on Vanessa before her trembling lips parted.

“G-G-Grandmere…” she managed, the tears thick in her voice but her courage refusing to let any slip out her eyes. “Ele-Elenore and I were just p–playing a g-game. She isn’t m-mad at me,” the child tried and Vanessa had to fight the instinct to take the little girl into her arms and rock her until she could let that grief out. “I pr-promise Grandmere, we w-were j-just playing. It’s all m-made up.” Even as the little girl’s face crumpled and she looked down, trying to hide how badly she wanted to cry, the child thought only of Elenore. That was how much Mimosa loved Elenore, Elenore who had seen fit to hurt a nine year old with words sharper than daggers.

Walking calmly to her granddaughter, Vanessa knelt to her knees, taking the little girl in her arms. “I know, my dearest one. Nobody could ever speak those words seriously. Now why don’t you go with Jacques? There are so many stars out tonight, maybe you can go to the observatory and help him spot your favorites? We can extend bedtime a little bit longer tonight, alright?”

The brunette simply nodded before giving her one last squeeze and dutifully trotting off to Jacques who immediately picked her up and left the room. The snap of the door shutting behind them signaled a finality that boded ill for all involved. Rising gracefully to her feet, Vanessa now directed her icy grey gaze to Elenore.

“May I inquire why you felt it prudent to talk to a nine year old in that tone?” she asked, her own voice soft, like her son’s. And equally dangerous.

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Welcome to the Real World (Mimosa, Vanessa, Jacques & Elenore) Rsz_ve10

The announcement of tea with Mycroft Holmes had brought a frown to Jacques features when he'd first heard it. To his knowledge, his little sister had never displayed a desire to marry, and neither had his parents expressed their desire for either of their children to marry in the near future. Whilst at dinner, though, Jacques had not raised his question, simply allowing Elenore to bask in Mimosa's attention, and questions, on the reasoning behind it.

Jacques had held his tongue, though, instead going with the tea and being as polite, enthusiastic and accommodating as was necessary for the day. Only when it was all over had Jacques raised the question with his Maman, and her reply had caught him off guard.

Still, with these new facts being brought to light, Jacques was able to deduce the same answer in that moment -- they would have to ask Elenore why she wished to leave the Palace so urgently. That had led them to the landing outside Elenore's room in time to hear the horrible words from his younger sister's mouth. Had Jacques not been with his Maman he would have burst in to the room in an instant to stop the nonsense spewing from her lips, but that had not been the case. Feeling his Maman freeze in the moment, Jacques' attention had paused on her instead, steadying her frame in that moment to make sure she didn't hurt herself, whilst he took in every word Elenore said.

Her voice was unlike anything Jacques had heard before.

Hurting, his mind supplied, though not in a manner to excuse his sister. In a manner that said after this moment, he would have to deal with what he'd heard.

The moment's pause, though, was too much, Elenore put the final cut in the wound, and Jacques couldn't help the small snarl that left him as his Maman let him go. His temper was much more reserved than his father's, but it had it's similarities, but more often, people took in his icier tones that came from his mother's temper. A hybrid, he supposed.

As the Clement heir brought forth the end of the proceedings and invited Mimosa to come with him, Jacques' eyes were on his sister, disappointment shining through as he silently asked 'how could you'? Mimosa was a child and if even a single word of what Elenore had said was true, she had no right in saying such things anyway. But Jacques' eyes moved, softening in their movement, as Mimosa spoke in such broken words, trying to defend Elenore as if she deserved it.

Jacques was glad for the moment in which his Maman took Mimosa in her arms, giving him a moment to flood the anger from his system before the young witch moved to him. Without a second thought, Jacques lifted the young witch up in to his arms before moving from the room. "Maman, Elenore." Jacques said as he lift, the sound of his sister's name coming out quite tightly before he closed the door.

"Now then, shall we go and see the stars?" Jacques asked little Mimosa -- though he was only talking to keep her distracted, the child needed her mind to be kept busy. "Did you know there is a star named after you?" He continued, keeping the conversation as neutral as possible. "Well, it's called Beta Crucis, but it is also known as Mimosa, it's a star that makes up part of the Southern Cross. It's on Australia's flag, New Zealand's too... and... oh! Papua New Guinea's flag, too. Not to mention Brazil.

"You know where they are, don't you?" Jacques asked, waiting for Mimosa's answer before diving in to an explanation on where the countries she didn't know were. Jacques went on to promise to take her to each of those places, so that they could see the star named after the small witch in the places it mattered.

The observatory came in to view soon after, and Jacques set the youngest Clement down before him, kneeling before her and taking her small hands in his own.

"I know you don't want to talk about what just happened right now, that's okay." Jacques told her, rubbing his thumbs across the back of her small hands in what he hoped would be a soothing manner. "But, know two things Mimosa, what Elenore said is not true, and no matter what any one says, you will always be a Clement to me, okay?" Jacques waited until Mimosa nodded -- it didn't matter if she understood now, or whether it would take more times for her to believe it, but Jacques would not allow the young American witch to be upset.

Leaning up, Jacques pressed a kiss to Mimosa's forehead. "Now, come on, we've got to find the brightest star in the sky!"

That was how Jacques had spent the rest of the evening, encouraging Mimosa to look at the stars, tiring her out by moving all of the equipment around endlessly, until, unable to keep her eyes open anymore, young Mimosa had fallen asleep in Jacques' lap, her small hand holding on to his shirt as if her life would depend on it. Thoroughly exhausted from her day.

Tomorrow, Jacques thought as he took the young witch back to her rooms and gently put her to bed with Bear, would be the start of the challenge. Trying to make Mimosa see that Elenore was so very, very wrong about everything.

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Just as Elenore was ready to turn away from the child, signalling the talk over, and dismissing the younger witch without a word, the door swung open with little and less care for the object. The image of her brother, closely followed by her Maman, filled the room and Elenore's eyes grew slightly wider than normal. The icy gaze had Elenore shrink away from her brother's gaze, and his words...

Focused on Mimosa, Mimosa's well being and removing her from the room.

Overlooked, Elenore supplied her own mind in that moment as she watched both her Maman and Jacques' attention move solely to the child. The child who had no right to be in this castle, no right to call her parents 'Grandmere and Grandpere'. The child who was not one of them was being favoured of her, and Elenore's body was boiling once more.

But the boiling of her anger was only fueled to a higher temperature when Mimosa spoke. The child was trying to defend her, after all that had been said, she'd had the audacity to come up with lies to cover her own shortcomings. Elenore's eyes moved to the child, her gaze as icy as her Maman's in that moment, or at least trying to be. Her actions, her honesty did not need to be pulled apart by the smaller witch, but that was not the worst of it.

As her Maman moved to hug the child, Elenore knew for certain in that moment, she meant nothing to her Maman. Her own grief, her own tears which were horribly evident on her cheeks had not even roused concern in her family, their only concern was Mimosa, a child who had everything, but deserved none of it. It took a long, hard swallow to take that on board, as Elenore turned towards her dressing table in that moment, lowering herself in to the seat. Her eyes watched Jacques move out of the room after picking Mimosa up and holding her close to him, a sight that one burned that hole deeper inside Elenore.

Not even her brother cared enough to check if she was okay...

The youngest Clement had hoped her Maman would follow, after all, the older witch did not care to see the pain she inflicted on her daughter, so why might she care as to what Elenore said to others. It was too much to hope, though, that she would be overlooked in that moment. Elenore's eyes found her Maman's in the mirror before her after a moment.

It was adding insult to injury, perhaps, not facing her Maman when she was addressed, but Elenore did not care for decorum in that moment.

“May I inquire why you felt it prudent to talk to a nine year old in that tone?”

The Hufflepuff straightened her posture, her chin up in defiance as her eyes remained on her Maman's reflection. "I believe, Maman, that Clement's never shy away from the truth of a situation. Whilst everyone else in the Palace seems to have forgotten that Mimosa is not one of us, I haven't. You all allow her to do as she pleases, wearing our name, ruining the image we have moulded over the last ten generations, but I will not allow her.

"And, because you let her get away with so much you can't see how flawed she is." Elenore added, managing to hold her mother's gaze in that moment, but not without her heart thudding deeply in her ears in an almost deafening manner. "I'd have thought that if you were so insistent on marrying me off to a man I will never love, and finding a replacement to be at the Palace in my stead, you would have at least checked the child could do the basics expected of a Lady. But, I see my expectations for the future you were creating were quite wrong, Maman."

Elenore's eyes wavered then, there was only so long you could manage to meet the icy gaze of the Lady Clement before you felt your insides freezing over. But as Elenore looked away from her Maman in that moment, she caught sight of the look on her own face. The smudged makeup, the highly puffed eyes, the face of a broken person staring back at her was haunting and her eyes cast down towards her lap instead.

"Please don't let me keep you from other pressing matters, Maman, I would hate to be of further inconvenience to you." Elenore finalised, knowing that final statement would be something of a low blow to finalise everything that had been said, but the Lady Vanessa Jhalak Clement needed to realise what she'd done, and to know exactly how she made her daughter feel.

So that she could stop pretending she was as perfect as she believed herself to be.

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Deep down, Vanessa had always feared her bond with her daughter was somewhat lacking in comparison to Jacques. Not because the Lady Clement loved her daughter any less but because Elenore had shown clear favoritism from a young age. And rather than discourage her daughter’s love for Maman, Vanessa had enthralled in how loved her daughter truly was by everyone. So what if it meant Lynnette Clement was the first one to get hugs on Christmases and birthdays, so what if Elenore rushed to show her grandmere the latest compositions of music or innovations in embroidery. What mattered was that Elenore was important, even if a little distant from the woman who had given her life.

But that distance increased a hundredth fold that evening as Elenore turned away from her mother despite being asked a direct question. The act of rudeness and defiance was not only meant as a clear sign of antagonism towards Vanessa but it also shamed the child’s entire upbringing. It seemed in reminding Mimosa that she wasn’t a real lady, Elenore had lost some of that lady in her own self. But just when the older which thought this was the height of insolence her daughter could achieve, Elenore began to speak.

And Vanessa let her.

Shocked she may have been but Lady Clement was no beginner at this game. Unbeknownst to her children, she had defied women much greater than herself and lived to tell the tale and now it looked like Elenore wanted a turn. So her mother let her have it. As the child spewed more venom about the blood sanctity and image of a Clement, Vanessa listened carefully, committing each accusation and hate filled phrase to memory because teenagers said things and then forgot. Adults were a different story. And Elenore would never be able to properly apologize for something she could no longer remember in her rage and spite.

It was only when the child dared to dismiss her that Vanessa stepped forwards; standing behind Elenore and staring icy grey daggers into her daughter’s image in the mirror. This ugly spiteful thing that stared back, this was Elenore? How was this creature the daughter she loved more than life itself? It couldn’t be and yet here it was, not even looking back at her. No sign of the sweet young girl who had been present for tea or lived at the palace all these years. The sight that reflected in the glass was hideous because it was failure. Failure on the part of Vanessa Clement.

“I think you, Elenore Lissette, have done more to tarnish our image today than little Mimosa ever could in her entire life,” the brunette spoke. Unlike her daughter, Vanessa’s eyes never left the small face in the mirror. “In fact, I would even say that her bravery and persistence in defending you today makes her more of a Lady than you ever were. For what is a Lady if not someone who defends her family despite their cruelty and intolerance of her? Today, I am as disappointed in you as I am proud of that little girl.” The words rang cold and sharp, hanging heavy in the air around them with nowhere else to go. “You seem to be laboring under the impression that simply being born a Clement is good enough. If that were the case, you wouldn’t be trying to hurt a mere child for your own sordid pleasure. I thank the Gods your Papa was not here to see this.”

Even as she said this, she knew the words were truer than true. The absolute worst thing that could happen right now was if Louis found out how vindictive their daughter could be. It would destroy him and that was unacceptable. “Your Papa will never know what you’re capable of, unless you wish to disintegrate him like you did Mimosa. She is young and may one day forget but your Papa has too long a memory. As do I.”

The rebuke offered, now it came to punishment. For there was no way Elenore would not be punished for her actions today. And while Vanessa did not believe in her own Grandmere’s teaching methods that by no means translated into her letting her children get off easily after a spectacle such as this. “From tomorrow onwards, you will be having your meals with Maman instead of the family until you find the time and foresight to understand what you did and apologize for it. There will also be no more visits from Mycroft Winston and you are only to focus on your studies. At Hogwarts, you two will remain nothing more than student and teacher and if I hear anything to the contrary, your friendship with Tess Marie will be suspended.”

Finally, the older witch met her daughter’s downcast gaze in the mirror and delivered the final blow. “All the leisure and freedom enjoyed in and outside this palace is for family members, and until you start acting like a member of this family, all those luxuries are off limits to you. I never expected such disappointment from you Elenore Lissette, but you seem more than capable of disappointing our family. It is a talent indeed, perhaps your finest.”

Turning away from the young heiress, Vanessa strode to the door, her gait measured, perfect and ladylike. The Lady Clement showed no sign of weakness until she was safely in her bed chamber where she finally sank down in her chair, contemplating what had just happened. Suddenly, her small happy family had a huge chasm in it, one that looked to be getting bigger with every passing minute.

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» A Whole New World (Jacques)
» When Her World Did a One Eighty (Primrose and Jacques)
» To The Cutest Kid In The World {Mimosa and Michelle}
» Mon Chouchou! (Mimosa & Jacques)
» Frères et Sœurs (Elenore & Jacques)