Chapter Text
Tina curls her hands tight against the bed sheets. They are cold and newly pressed. The room smells new- without mould or dust. A foreign smell to the towers she has been used to. The cells. Tina’s throat moves shakily as she swallows, and she coughs slightly to clear it. This is not how she thought she’d be spending her wedding night.
Not that she thought she’d have any wedding night. Queenie had enough children for the both of them. And no one had shown interest in the oldest Goldstein sister anyway, even in France where morals and ideals were looser than in England. No man wanted a woman who acted like a knight most of the time, complete with short hair, pants and a sword. They wanted women like Queenie, who dressed in silks, played the harp and used words as weapons.
But if she did ever get married, Tina assumed it would be for love, or trust. At least someone she had chosen. Not a man she’d never met before, chosen by her sister to strengthen her rebellion. The united Kowalski's and Scamander’s would surely crush Grindelwald under their heels. Unfortunately, the leaders were already married, and their children too young for their schemes. Luckily, for both sides, they happened to have two grown siblings, who had no particular power or means to fight the match.
The first time Tina had seen her betrothed she’d been walking down the aisle towards him.
Tina’s stomach grumbles irritably. She ignores it, the anxious twisting in her throat louder than her hunger. They’d had a magnificent feast. Tina had been living on vegetables and gruel for months, and her mouth had watered at the delicious meat and sugar dusted tarts that surrounded her. Yet, Tina couldn’t find it in herself to eat a single bite. Neither had her new husband. Newton had drunk more than he’d eaten, picking at his food in a way that would turn any lady to shame.
Their siblings had eaten and talked enough for the both of them. Queenie and the Lady Leta had traded gossips and fashion advice with spirit. Jacob and Lord Theseus had laughed so loudly, Tina thought at one point the roof would come down. The newly-weds had sat in silence, as the cheery chatter swelled around them. Every now and again they’d steal glances at one another. Tina could feel Newton’s eyes on her as she studied the tablecloth. She too felt her eyes drag to his wiry frame. He was handsome man, that much was clear. But her time on this earth had taught her that a handsome man, even a quiet one, could be just as dangerous as any other. And there must be a reason why he had also been exiled from his court.
Although, Tina smiles grimly, staring round at her glamorous new lodgings. The mahogany furnishings, the silken tapestries, the roaring first her new servants had lit. It was much nicer than her last home. She had lived in a claustrophobic room for a year. Newton had an entire castle as a cage.
Tina stands and her great dress curves around her. It was the colour of ivory, made from the finest silk she’s ever felt in her life. White roses lie in her hair like a crown, and both her dress and her skin are as soft as petals. Tina looks like an English rose. She feels like an English puddle. For herself, her family; The entire country knows what will happen tonight. Her and her new husband will go to bed.
The sound of a door creaking makes her jump. It’s not her front door or even her servants smaller one. Instead it’s a secret one; near the head of her bed, partly obscured by the over flowing crimson drapes of her canopy. And from such secret passage comes her husband- first his floppy ginger hair, then the rest of him. Newton Scamander.
“You scared me,” Tina gasps softly, her already frantic heart racing even harder.
She tries to offer him a smile, but her lips are stiff and refuse to yield. Newton does not even seem to notice. He bobs aimlessly by her bedside, looking unsure and small in the candlelight. He’s shed his navy velvet coat already, leaving him in just his mustard trousers and white shirt. The light colours make his reddened cheeks stand out starkly; though if they're from embarrassment or drink Tina cannot tell. Probably both.
“They have left,” Newton announces in his awkward manner, “our siblings and the court,” Tina once again starts in shock. It was well known, that at the very least on a wedding night, the friends and families of the newly-weds should stay. If for nothing else to make sure the marriage was consummated.
“All? Even Queenie and Jacob? Theseus and Leta?” Tina asks bewildered, her voice high and thready.
She had not expected this. She expected hidden ears behind every door. She expected rowdy banter over the breakfast table, and awaiting eyes stalking her waistline. Tina’s lips finally relax in relief. Newton, as if sensing her thoughts, also smiles. Tina had not seen him do so before- Mercy Lewis, he is handsome.
“Yes, I made sure of it,” Newton gives her a quick nod, before dropping her gaze. Her husband, Tina had so far found, was not prone to eye contact.
Tina takes her lip between her teeth. Then she makes her way over to her small wooden table. Servants had left them soft white bread, cheese and fruit. They had also laid out a hefty jug of wine and two golden cups. Tina pours them two large helpings. Liquid courage won’t be enough to steady her nerves, but it’s a good start. Plus, her husband has just given her a gift. A kind and considerate one, one she’d never even considered occurring. Tina had been there at her sisters bedding. Newton must have been at his brothers. It was a terrifying, but simple fact of life.
And Newton had dispelled it, one of her deepest fears with a simple flick of his hand. Tina wants to give him something- even if it’s something he could easily get himself.
“A drink?” She asks, offering up a glass with a bravado she didn’t know she possessed.
“Please,” Newton says quickly, and walks over to join her. They’re the same height. Perhaps he’s a little taller, but Tina will never have to incline her neck to look up at him. He’s right there. Easy to reach.
Newton takes the cup from her, and their fingertips brush lightly together. They both take a sharp intake of breath, before turning away- pink faced. Tina raises her glass shyly.
“To my husband,” She toasts, smiling softly. Newt raises his own.
“My wife,” He says, his voice rough. Their glasses clink together. Tina takes a large sip, letting the wine flow down her throat. It’s sweeter than it should be, someone must have added honey. She can feel Newton’s eyes on her as she drinks and Tina looks tentatively at him over the edge of her glass.
“You are…beautiful Porpentina,” Newton pronounces; not particularly smoothly, but so genuinely that Tina blushes, instead of thanking him.
“Tina,” She says. Tina can’t seem to get her voice louder than a whisper. Her husband hears her though, and he blanches anxiously.
“I mean, everyone calls me Tina,” She hastens to set him straight. Newton gives an obvious sigh of relief. Tina takes a deeper sip from her wine.
“Newt,” He stammers and Tina halts her drinking. Only partially because she’s drained her glass, “That’s what everyone calls me,”
“Right,” Tina says nervously, swirling the word around her tongue, “Newt,” They stare at each other silently for a moment. Then he begins to chuckle, as deep throaty chuckle that makes her blink warily at him.
“I’m sorry,” Newt laughs wearily, running tired hand over his face, “It’s just- we’ve gotten married, without even knowing what we like to be called,” Tina snorts ungraciously into her cup, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of their circumstance.
“That shows promise for a long and happy marriage I suppose,” She quips wryly. Newt glances at her, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Stranger things have happened,” He murmurs, before taking a long drink for his goblet. Tina fills up her own again, with shaky fingers.
“You have a wonderful home,” She tells him honestly. It’s true. The small grey stone castle, is fairy-tale in its manner. It’s almost as if it’s grown up from the Scottish moors where it lies, and purple vines entwine it’s walls. It was a homely place, full of knick-knacks and well-loved furniture. Queenie had wanted the wedding to take place a Hogwarts- the home of the resistance. Tina was glad it hadn’t.
“Thank you,” Newt says smiling happily. He points with his cup hand to the door he came through, “My rooms just through there, if you ever need anything or get lost or something,” He trails off uncertainly. Tina must look stricken. She can feel her face muscles and they’re as stiff as a board. She goes to take another sip of wine, but Newt stops her with a gentle hand round her wrist. He sets both their cups on the table, and takes Tina’s other hand. His fingers are clammy between her own.
“I’m not going to force myself on you Tina,” Newt says, looking truly disgusted by the very thought. He fingers the ring that sits on her finger. He has an identical one on his own left hand. Both are made of soft silver and are nothing more than simple bands. They twinkle innocently in the candlelight. Yet, both rings hold so much power. Tina nods stiffly, and Newt squeezes her hands tightly.
“I mean it Tina,” He says, suddenly sounding fierce, “I’m yours, just as much as you are mine,” Newt takes a step closer. The flowers around her forehead brush his own. Tina finally gets a look at his eyes. They are green, gold, brown, blue, somehow all at once. They’re the prettiest thing she’s ever seen in her life. Newt takes a deep breath.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” He whispers tenderly, his thumb stroking her wrist.
“I want,” Tina begins, her voice cracking. Her gaze drops to his lips and then back up again. Her joints crack as Newt tightens his grip around her. Tina sighs heavily, letting her eyelids flutter shut. Newt presses a kiss to her lips, as light as a feather. Even at the briefest touch, a warmth blossoms in her chest. They break apart, eyes wide. Newt seems just as affected as her; his chest heaving as if he’d just run a mile.
“Merlin’s beard,” He murmurs, his magical eyes bright, “Tina can I?”
“Please,” Tina begs and Newt sweeps her up again, with much more enthusiasm. Tina returns the kiss just as easily, teasing her fingers into his hair. The deep hum has returned, buzzing contentedly throughout her veins. They did not know each other, but it was if their bodies did and were greeting each other after years apart. Newt’s hands are pulling desperately at her hips, pressing her flush against him. His mouth is hot, hard and relentless as he pushes her backwards to her bed.
“Newt, wait,” Tina gasps, attempting to break free of him. He lets her go straight way, deep shame embedded on his features. Her husband wrings his hands together anxiously, his chin at his chest, babbling hopelessly.
“Sorry, oh god Tina, I’m sorry,” Newt mutters hopelessly. Tina’s heart aches for her husband as she realises what he must’ve thought. Hastily, with one smooth movement, she removes her crown of roses, letting her hair hang freely around her shoulders. It had grown in her months of captivity, and now fell in loose waves below her breasts.
“My dress,” Tina says, caressing the delicate fabric, “It’s too nice to be ruined, don’t you think?” Newt’s mouth falls open indelicately, as she wets her lips. He clears his throat, moving once more towards her.
“Honestly? No,” Newt states carelessly. Tina can practically see all the ways he’s currently ripping it off her in his eyes. Tina chokes on her air that surrounds them, which is suddenly much too warm to properly breath in. One of Newt’s hands raises up to caress her cheek, and now Tina is the one to stutter weakly. His fingers are rough to the touch, as if from years of work. As they scratch down her neck, something begins to simmer in her stomach, pooling in her groin.
“But my wife cares for it?” Newt asks tenderly. It’s all Tina can do to nod. She doesn’t think she’d have a voice, even if she’d had words at that moment.
“Turn around,” Her husband commands softly. Tina does so eagerly, moving her hair to one side to reveal her wedding dresses laces. Gentle fingers touch the nape of her neck and Tina gasps, leaning back into his touch. Newt plays almost curiously, with the short curls that has escaped from Tina’s hands. Then moves down, pulling at the golden necklace at her throat.
“My mothers,” Tina finally finds her voice, though it’s faint and trembling, “please don’t take it off,”
“Of course,” Newt whispers sweetly, dropping the chain immediately. She stands, lonesome for a moment, waiting anxiously for her husband to touch her again. He does. But it’s not Newt’s fingers, but his lips that caress her neck.
“Newt,” Tina gasps and gropes behind her. Her own fingers tighten around his pants, hugging him closer. Newt chuckles, his warm breath dancing along her skin.
She feels him beginning to pull at her laces, unwinding them quickly. Her dress loosens around her shoulders, and Tina joins him in dragging it enthusiastically down her waist.
The fabric pools in a silken puddle at her feet. Tina drops down, and carefully places it on her bedside table, on top of her wand. She turns slowly, nervously. Her remaining garments are both flimsy and indecent. Her underdress is thin and short, ending in the middle of her thighs. Tina’s breasts are pushed up and over its neck line by her corset. Newt seems almost gravitated towards her, like she’s the sun. Her knees knock together as his eyes flow over her, easily as water in a stream. Tina sits on her bed, her legs suddenly weak. Newt places his hands gently on her knees, his fingers spreading up like flowers stems up her exposed thighs. Tina tingles, the space between her legs pounding. She takes her lip gently between her teeth again, as he presses upwards, underneath the fabric. Newt’s eyes are glassy, the beautiful colour almost obscured by black. His own bottom lip shakes, and he presses his forehead against her own.
“Is this alright?” Newt asks softly, watching her tentatively from under his fringe. Tina takes a shuddering breath.
“Yes,” She rasps, bringing his head forward for almost an innocent kiss. Tina can feel Newt smile and she smiles back as they break apart. Her heart is full of hope. Tina had spent months filled of fear of this day, his night. But perhaps she needn’t have. Perhaps it’ll all be fine. She reaches out to take the hem of Newt’s shirt between her fingers.
“No,” He cries out suddenly. So suddenly, and almost in a terrified manner that Tina jumps backwards, her other hand falling off his cheek. Newt’s eyes are wide and fearful, and he turns his head away from her anxious eyes.
“No, not my shirt, not yet,” He mutters to her non-verbal question. Both of their eyes linger on his pants, where a noticeable bulge sits, pressing against its ties. Tina’s fingers clench thin air. She aches for it, and yet she’s afraid. Her body is frozen in indecision. Newt stares down at her, waiting.
“I’m sorry,” Tina tries to let out a light hearted chuckle, “I have never done this before,” She blushes self-consciously, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
“Really?” Newt asks. It’s said innocently, but his voice his brushed with disbelief. Tina’s hope disappears with a pop.
“Excuse me?” She asks in an entirely different tone. One that sparks with anger. Tina pulls down her under-things, and clambers higher up the bed and away from him. Newt’s mouth hangs open, his mouth moving soundlessly. Tina crosses her arms over her chest, waiting for him to come up with whatever explanation he’s going to come up with.
“I’m sorry Tina,” He eventually splutters, “But my brother told me…” Newt trails off uncertainly dipping his head, and Tina feels like screaming into her palms.
She knows exactly what Lord Theseus told his brother. That she was a seductress. A woman who had sold herself to buy a ship, and had sailed said ship from France to England, unmarried and unchaperoned; her only companion on board being a single man of considerable status. And why shouldn’t Theseus have told him? Why was it strange that Newt believed it? That was what was official after all. It was almost better than the actual truth. Was it a crime that Tina thought, for once, that someone would believe her? That her husband, no matter how much of a stranger he was, would take her at her word? It’s not even Newt that has betrayed her. It’s her own damn mind, that wanted to hope, wanted to believe. And it’s this enraging knowledge, that causes Tina’s anger to take hold of her tongue.
“I know exactly what you thought,” She speaks up scathingly, her vision turning red, “That I’m a loose woman,” Newt looks like a dear in the headlights. He neither moves or speaks, but Tina can read the truth in his eyes.
“Well, I’m not, I’m innocent,” Tina spits, angry tears pricking at her eyes, “I didn’t call you ‘a wild man who sleeps with beasts,’, why couldn’t you show me the same respect?” She regrets her words as they come out of her mouth. But it's too late, and they hang in the air like poison. Newt takes a step backwards, his face closing over. The humid air between them has cooled to a chill.
“Do you want me to leave?” He asks quietly. ‘No,’ Tina thinks, but she nods. For some reason tears keep dropping out of her eyes. She pats them away discreetly, as Newt walks slowly back to his door. Tina’s not facing him, but she can feel him behind her and hears the creak of a hinge opening.
“Sorry,” She whispers. Newt says nothing. But the door closes gently, leaving her alone to cry.