The Veela Chronicles

The Veela Chronicles: Book One (3/12)

Chapter Three: A Visit for Gabrielle

Gabrielle cast Fleur's letter to the side with a huff.

"Fleur!" she yelled plaintively. "You are impossible!"

She was answered by silence. Her roommate, Colette, was away on a special field trip with Madame Maxine and the other "smart" kids at school studying the magical patterns found in meteor showers. Gabrielle gave Colette's telescope a withering glare.

"Why are people so concerned with things that don't even effect their day-to-day life?" she exclaimed. "They spend too much time missing what is right in front of them."

She flopped down on her bed, her face scrunched up in frustration.

"Leave it to my sister," she thought. "She always is letting opportunities pass her by. She doesn't even see them! She has done this her entire life! I bet it never even occurred to her how important Rusa's wedding could have been for her. All the right people were there. The most important people in Europe, I'm sure!"

"Not that anyone would tell me," Gabrielle said out loud. "Everyone seems to think it's of no importance to me. Why would Gabrielle care? She's just a young girl, away at school."

She cast a scowl towards the letter.

"I'm so sick of being stuck here! I'm missing everything!"

Gabrielle picked up Fleur's letter and carefully reread it, looking for any clue, any detail she might have missed. She read the ending out loud. "Yes, Marko was there but we did not speak. He did not even remember me Gabrielle."

She scrunched her face up again. "How does Fleur know that he didn't remember her?" she mused. "He probably didn't want to go near her after the way she treated him at my party."

Gabrielle allowed a small smile to pass her lips. "I'm sure if I were there, he would not have hesitated to talk to me," she thought, allowing her mind to wonder about Marko Kraljevic.

He wasn't a terribly famous man. Well-known to those who were paying attention, but not the flashy hero his friend Novak was. Marko was an advisor to Novak really, ensuring that his friend had been in the right place at the right time (and away from the wrong place at the wrong time) during the Battle of Kosovo last year.

Gabrielle's smile grew broader. She was over Novak now, especially since she had done some research on the Battle, and discovered the truth about Novak and Marko. The real hero was Marko, as far as she was concerned.

She hadn't paid that much attention, at the time. The battle had taken place during the summer, so she was home from Beauxbatons. Fleur had been reading the papers, chewing on her lip as she read.

"That means she's concerned," Gabrielle had thought to herself. So she had asked Fleur what was wrong.

Fleur looked up, blinking as if she were surprised to see the breakfast table.

"Fleur, what's the matter?" Gabrielle repeated.

"Oh, it's just the situation in Kosovo," Fleur replied.

At that point Philippe strode in the room, making a rare breakfast appearance.

"Kosovo?" he inquired. "Who's talking about Kosovo?"

"I am Pere," Fleur said. "The paper's all concerned that a situation may break out."

"A situation?" Philippe snorted. "You bet a situation going to break out. It's about time the papers' picked up on it."

"What's going on Pere?" Gabrielle asked.

He sighed and sat down at the table.

"It's the same as almost any situation, I'm afraid. One group of people doesn't like another group of people." He had scowled into his café. "And they can't learn to let it go. Of course, it's not all their fault. Things seem to be set up to create maximum discord. Their politicians should really know better."

Gabrielle was a bit bewildered at this. Pere was always going on and on about how other politicians weren't doing their job. But he never explained what exactly they were doing wrong. Just that he would do it differently. Gabrielle thought a big smugly to herself, "Well, Pere seems to be doing alright here. There hasn't been a war in France for years! So he must know what he's talking about."

Fleur wasn't as content to let it pass.

"Pere," she exclaimed, tossing her hair impatiently. "It's rooted so much deeper than that. It's the wizarding forces that are making it worse!"

"Nonsense," he had replied. "The wizarding forces should have been in there long ago."

"But Pere," Fleur persisted, raising from the table. "The wizards are getting involved in affairs that are none of their business! Ordering muggle armed forces about. Whose interests do you think they are protecting? It's just making the whole thing more complicated and dragging it out."

"It's been their fight from the beginning," Philippe dismissed her argument with a wave of his hand. "Check and see what Le Chronicle has to say about it. It'll tell you."

At this point Gabrielle, who was curious to see what her sister and father were arguing about, quickly went off to her aunt's study to grab the wizarding paper. Le Chronicle sat on a small table. Gabrielle looked around but did not see her aunt. With a slight shrug she grabbed the paper and returned to breakfast.

"I've got it," she said, depositing it in front of Fleur.

Philippe gave her a smile.

Fleur glanced at the paper. "Well," she said, riffing through it. "It's obviously not considered important enough to make the front page."

"That's usually reserved for hype and pop culture," Philippe sniffed. "It'll be in there. Look for something about Viktor Novak."

As if on cue, Fleur saw the headline: Novak Notches Key Alliance in Kosovo.

"I wanna see," chimed Gabrielle. Fleur spread the paper out on the table so they both could read it.

Muggle and magical groups collide in Kosovo, again.

History repeating itself as old feud flares.

In 1389, the Serbian civilization collapsed after an epic battle between the Serbians and the Turks (both powerful muggle groups at the time).

A group of wizards supported and maintained the Serbian empire for many years, to their mutual benefit. But as time went on the wizards began to bicker with the feudal lords and increasingly faced prosecution from the Christian church in Serbia.

When the threat of the expanding Ottoman Empire became realized, the wizards decided to adopt a hands-off policy that resulted them abandoning their former allies.

The Turks attacked on June 17, and utterly defeated the muggles, which resulted in 500 years of Turkish occupation. During that time, many ethnic Serbs left the area under the oppressive Ottoman rule, while Islamic Albanians began to move into the area in great numbers.

During those 500 years, wizards kept their hands-off policy, detaching themselves from muggle affairs. And to this day, ethnic clashes occur in Bosnia - at their very worst resulting in mass genocide, terror, and rape from both sides. It seems that none of the muggle groups involved are innocent from committing these atrocities.

As the events in Bosnia continue to escalate, it seems history may repeat itself, except this time wizards are looking to involve themselves in the turmoil of the region.

"We want to keep this fight civilized," said Viktor Novak, appointed Head of Military Strategy. "The muggles have unfortunately gone ahead and committed unspeakable deeds. We want to take the fight out of their hands and back into ours, since we were ultimately responsible for abandoning what we started all those years ago."

"You see?" Philippe said. "Just like I told you. It's been the wizard's fight from the beginning. I'm glad we have someone like Novak on our side, although he's just a figurehead working for someone else, I'd imagine."

Fleur turned away and rolled her eyes. Her father often fancied himself as a powerful behind-the-scenes man. He never believed that any of the people who got the public credit were actually doing the most important work.

"Nevertheless," Philippe continued. "He seems to understand that as far as politics are concerned, wizards and muggles like me aren't as isolated as most people think." With that he finished his café and strode out of the room.

Fleur continued to read the article. She noticed that Gabrielle was also fixated on the paper.

"Can I turn the page now?" Fleur asked her, eager to find any tiny detail that would support her view of the situation. But Gabrielle wasn't listening. She stared at the photograph of Novak that accompanied the story.

In her room, Gabrielle blushed, remembering the first time she had seen a picture of Novak. She honestly hadn't cared about the turmoil in Kosovo. Not because she was cold-hearted, but just because it didn't enter her 12-year-old world. But handsome men on the other hand…

Gabrielle shook her head. "I don't care a bit about Novak now," she murmured to herself. "How silly I was, to think that looks were all that mattered. Pere was right anyway. It was Marko who had been the man behind the scenes all along."

During that summer, the situation in Kosovo grew steadily worse, but the wizards figured they had it all in control. While scouring the papers for pictures of Novak, Gabrielle gleaned some seemingly extraneous information about Marko. He worked for the European Wizarding Coalition for Muggle Affairs as a consultant to wizarding forces that wished to involve themselves in muggle situations - both political and military. Philippe Delacour was a member himself, on the muggle side of course. He and Marko both shared the view that it was in the wizards and muggles best interests that they work together, but also that that work be kept secret as to maximize the benefits and minimize the risks.

Other countries, like Great Britain, disagreed and refused to join. Philippe regarded those countries as hopelessly idealistic, and often pointed to their bumbling wizard/muggle affairs departments. "If they'd spend half as much time on diplomacy as they do on memory charms…" Philippe would always say, shaking his head.

Since meeting Marko, Gabrielle had gone back and done research on his involvement. He was more a director than anything. He had decided when and where Novak would act. Unknown to most of the muggle world, he engineered a coup that allowed the wizards to join forces with both the Albanians and the Serbs. Most wizards that knew about it saw the coup as a peacemaking strategy -- to attempt some reconciliation between the two groups. But Fleur always mumbled that Marko was just covering his back. Gabrielle suspected that Fleur didn't like Marko for other reasons, but she didn't know what they were. She supposed it was just Fleur overreacting about something again. "She never brought up her reasons to Pere, so how intelligent could they be?" figured Gabrielle, and left it at that.

Gabrielle hugged her knees, casting another disdainful look at Fleur's letter.

"Oh, if only I were allowed to go to the wedding," she groaned. "I wouldn't have moped about like I'm sure Fleur did. She just doesn't understand that she has to make things happen!"

Gabrielle turned and looked out her window. Beauxbatons was located on a small island in the Mediterranean Sea, off the French shore. All she could see was the moonlight glimmering off the endless water. Gabrielle smiled to herself.

"Mmm," she thought. "Moonlight is precious to the Veela. And it seems to be very strong tonight. Perhaps I'll practice my Veela powers, so when my time comes to make something happen, I won't make a mistake."

She slid off her bed in a single graceful motion. She sauntered over to her mirror and examined herself, trying hard to picture men falling at her feet.

She had grown a lot in the past few years. She was tall but just as slim as she had been as a child. This did not trouble Gabrielle, her mother often told her she looked like a fawn - lanky, but beautiful because her body hinted of more to come. She still looked new and promising, without looking totally like a child.

Gabrielle also never worried that her eyes were gray, not blue. The often darkened or appeared lighter than their current shade. They reflected everything from her mood to her environment. She narrowed her eyes and looked mysterious. She opened them wide and suddenly she was transformed into a picture of innocence.

Gabrielle giggled and began to arrange her long hair on top of her head, experimenting with different styles. In the end she just let it hang loose. It was by far the most flattering when it hung straight to her waist.

She smiled to herself. She knew she was fortunate to have such good looks. As a child, she had idolized Fleur and their mother. Deep down, she sometimes worried that she would pale by comparison. But that hadn't happened, so Gabrielle was content. She could hold her own among the Veela.

A tapping at the window interrupted her preening.

"I already got my owls from home," thought Gabrielle. Confused, she walked over to the window.

Her confusion grew as she saw the large bird perched on her sill holding a letter in its beak. It wasn't an owl. It was a magnificent eagle.

Gabrielle eagerly unfastened the window and threw it open. A gust of warm Mediterranean air drifted in the room, along with the giant bird. She stepped back from it, unsure of what to make of an eagle delivering mail. But the bird gently lowered the letter onto her bed and sailed back out the window with one graceful flap of its wings.

Gabrielle impatiently reached for the letter. "Post by eagle! Whoever would do such a thing?" she asked herself. The envelope gave no answers, only her name, penned in stern, yet elegant handwriting. She carefully opened the flap, and took out the letter. Gabrielle noticed a faint, pleasant odor came from the glue.

Dearest Mademoiselle Delacour,

Bonjour!

As life is never entirely good or entirely bad, as balance is the key, I shall start off my letter with the bad, and hopefully all will end on a good note.

First, I offer my condolences to you and your family during this hard time. I am aware that tomorrow is the anniversary of your Aunt Viveka's death. I am sure she was much beloved. I have the honor of being close to her widow, as he was like an uncle to me, as well as a work associate. His eyes used to shine as he spoke about his wife. He loved her with unequaled passion, and her untimely death affects him to this day.

Gabrielle frowned. "Who is this?" she asked herself. "Aunt Viveka died when I was a year old. I barely remember her. Fleur was much closer to her than I was. Did the eagle get the wrong Delacour?" She quickly flipped the letter over to see who had signed it, but it wasn't signed either. She flipped it back and continued reading.

The second piece of bad news concerns your sister, Fleur. I'm afraid she and I had an argument at your cousin's wedding. I am not at all sure your family has told you about it, but I felt you need to know - because it does concern you. It is too complicated to explain in a letter, so that is why I will visit you. I was to assure you that I want nothing but harmony between my family and yours.

Gabrielle crinkled her eyebrows together. "What? Fleur got into a fight at the wedding? With who? Her date Jean? She didn't tell me!"

I know it is a lot to ask, and I don't want you to think I'm using you to get to her, but perhaps you could intervene on my behalf. Although I have met you just briefly, I got the strongest impression that you are a person who understands situations immediately, and who doesn't bring her prejudices and anger onto innocent people. This is a gift Gabrielle. I hope you grow to recognize and nurture it.

But, I shall tell you all this in person. I will come as soon as my eagle brings me notice that my letter was delivered properly.

Gabrielle put the letter down, thinking hard. "Met only briefly? Who could…?" Her eyes opened wide. "Non! It couldn't be!" Suddenly feeling a set of eyes on her, she spun towards the window and saw a man perched on the sill.

"Marko!" she exclaimed.

He smiled his usual half-smile and slowly crawled into her room, eyeing her through his long, black bangs. He said nothing, but seemed to be waiting for her to speak.

Gabrielle was at a loss. Of course she had imagined that Marko had taken an immediate interest to her, and she even had imagined him writing to her, but never had she imagined that he would show up in her bedroom! She stared back at him, speechless. He seemed to read her thoughts.

"Forgive my impudence," he drawled.

She blushed and quickly regained her speech and composure.

"Think nothing of it," she said quickly. "You are most welcome here."

She paused and tilted her head at him in a way she knew was flattering.

"But I must say," she continued, gesturing at the letter. "I am very surprised to see you again. As you wrote, we have met only briefly."

Marko lifted the other half of his face into a smile. "And as I wrote, you left quite an impression," he said.

Gabrielle blushed again and looked down at the ground. "So did you," she thought. Aloud she said, "Thank you for your kind words about my Aunt Viveka."

His smile faltered a little. "You were fond of your aunt?" he asked.

Gabrielle nodded, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that her aunt died when she was a baby. She wanted Marko to forget all about her age.

"Although, Fleur was closer to her than I," she admitted, not wanting to lie outright to him and seizing on a way to bring Fleur's name into the conversation. Gabrielle desperately wanted to know what happened at the wedding.

"Ah, yes. Fleur," Marko said, his mouth falling back into the half smile. His eyes looked grave.

"Does my sister trouble you?" Gabrielle asked.

"I'm afraid I trouble your sister," he answered.

"Oui," Gabrielle replied. "I've noticed. I love her to death, but she is sometimes stubborn and unreasonable when it comes to people."

Marko beckoned to her bed. "May I?" he asked. "It's a long story." Gabrielle nodded and he took a seat.

"Your sister and I actually met twelve years ago," he started. "I was working on my first job with my mentor, Arnold Repnin."

"Aunt Viveka's husband, Uncle Arnold," supplied Gabrielle slowly. Her mind was spinning, desperately trying to piece together these new pieces of information.

"Yes," he answered. "The very same. At the time of the accident, Fleur was visiting. I suppose your parents wanted her to visit all her relatives before starting Beauxbatons." He paused and looked at her. "Are you familiar with the details of your aunt's death Gabrielle?"

"I know there was a terrible accident," she said. "Aunt Viveka fell down the staircase. She died instantly."

Marko nodded. "I was there," he said.

Gabrielle gasped. "How horrible for you!" she murmured sympathetically.

Marko nodded. "But I'm sure it was worse for Fleur. She was there too," he said.

Gabrielle's eyes opened wide. She had not known this.

"I still remember it vividly. Viveka had just come back from work," Marko said. "I was there delivering some papers for your uncle. Fleur came running out to greet her aunt. Viveka called up for her to stay up on top of the stairs, otherwise she would hurt herself running down them so quickly. She was very affectionate and protective of Fleur, your aunt was. Arnold came out of his study to greet his wife, and to make sure Fleur stayed put. I came out with him."

Gabrielle felt sad. She had no idea that Fleur and Marko had this connection. What a horrible thing to go through. She felt horrible for her sister. But none of it really explained why Fleur hates Marko so much. She tilted her head at Marko and waited for him to continue.

"There wasn't anything complicated about it," he said. "She reached the top of the stairs, and slipped. I reached out and grabbed her arm, but her jacket came lose. She hit her head hard as she fell down the stairs. No one had a chance to save her." He hung his head. "I was afraid people would blame me, however."

"Non!" said Gabrielle. "It was an accident."

"I know," he replied. "It was tragic, but it was an accident all the same. The only one who blamed me that day was Fleur. She started screaming and crying. I tried to comfort her as your uncle tended to your aunt, but she would have none of it. But I didn't blame her. She was only ten."

Gabrielle reflected on this. She didn't know much about her sister's relationship with their aunt. She knew Aunt Viveka was her mother's other sister, half-veela, a competent witch, and married. She knew Fleur thought well of her in the years that followed her death. Gabrielle knew that Fleur didn't really get along with the rest of their mother's sisters. Maybe this has something to do with that as well? Does Fleur have some deep-rooted hatred of all those involved with Aunt Viveka's death?

"Does she still blame you?" Gabrielle asked.

Marko nodded. "It would seem so. When I saw her at your birthday, I had hoped that she wouldn't remember me from that day. Or at least remember me as someone who tried their best to save her aunt."

"She was hostile," murmured Gabrielle. "I'm so sorry."

"And then at the wedding, she was even more hostile." He paused, "Maybe it's because the date was so close to the anniversary of your aunt's death." He stopped again and looked at her directly. Gabrielle felt her heart thump harder as he stared into her eyes. "Did your family tell you what happened at the wedding?"

Gabrielle shook her head, not taking her eyes from his. "As far as I know, it was a lavish, but uneventful, affair."

Marko laughed. "Well, the events certainly matched the lavishness. It was a shame you couldn't attend."

Gabrielle smiled at him.

"So," said Marko, continuing his story. "All was well until the reception. I approached your family's table to ask Fleur for a dance."

Gabrielle's smile hardened. She didn't like to think of Marko dancing with Fleur. Again, Marko seemed to read her mind.

"It was only a friendly gesture on my part, of course," he said. "I wanted to let her know that I had no hard feelings after your party."

Gabrielle's smile softened as she blushed. She didn't want her feelings to show so transparently.

"She refused and went off with her own date." Marko continued. "I stayed at the table and talked politics with your father. Remarkable man, your father. Anyway, he started apologizing for Fleur's rude behavior. I told him to think nothing of it, at the very least she does have a reason to dislike the sight of me because of my associations with Viveka's untimely death."

"But that is childish," protested Gabrielle. "It's been years."

Marko smiled approvingly at her. "That is what your father said. The next thing I know, your father has gone over to Fleur and brought her back to accept my invitation. I stepped over to take her hand and she slapped me."

"What?" Gabrielle shrieked. "I've only known Fleur to make a scene in public once. And that's when she thought I was dead!"

"Well, it went a bit beyond making a scene," he continued, a weird look coming over his face as her remembered.

Despite her better judgment, Gabrielle let out a small giggle. She knew how seriously Fleur took everything, and they both had the tendency towards making dramatics. Suddenly, the image of her sister throwing a royal hissy fit at the wedding of the year seemed very amusing to her. Marko looked at her sharply and Gabrielle stifled her laughter. But to her surprise he smiled at her.

"It is amusing, in hindsight," he said, letting out a small chuckle himself.

Gabrielle stared at him. Full smiles and laughter fully transformed his face. His dark eyes seemed to glow. She felt her heart thud again.

"Well," Gabrielle said flippantly, encouraged by his smile. "As a member of the Delacour family, I can't have you thinking that we are all put off when a handsome man asks up to dance." She took a step towards him and held out her arm.

If he was surprised by her boldness, he didn't show it. He rose from the bed and began humming. Gabrielle beamed at him as they began to dance.

Outside the window, Marko's eagle looked in. Although unable to vocalize or clearly define them, his keen observation talent let him read Marko's intentions more clearly than Gabrielle could. Gabrielle didn't know that the glue from the letter envelope was actually a little-known Sileni mixture, designed to lure its breather into a non-questioning, optimistic state. Gabrielle didn't know that Marko was humming an ancient Sileni tune, designed to bind its singer closely with all within earshot. Gabrielle didn't know how clever and ambitious Marko really was, or that he wanted to form an alliance with Philippe Delacour as the first step in his plan to eventually conquer all of Europe. Gabrielle didn't know how easily he could use people for his own purposes. Gabrielle didn't know that she was to be used, since Fleur could not.