Chapter Text
“Queenie, do you take Jacob to be your lawfully wedded husband from this day forward - to have and to hold, in good times and bad, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health; will you love, honor, and cherish him for as long as you both shall live?”
All eyes were on Queenie as she stood by the officiant in a beautiful wedding dress. She was smiling widely, not being able to hide her excitement.
“I do” she says without a doubt.
“And you Jacob, do you take Queenie to be your lawfully wedded wife from this day forward - to have and to hold, in good times and bad, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health; will you love, honor, and cherish her for as long as you both shall live?”
Jacob didn’t answer right away. His eyes seemed dull and he got pale. His fiance looked at him with concern.
"I—" Jacob stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He swallowed hard, as though trying to force the words out. "I do," he finally managed, but the words came strained, as though dragged from the depths of his soul.
Queenie smiled widely again, her concern disappearing in a second. But before the officiant said anything else Jacob fell to the ground, losing consciousness.
"Jacob!" Queenie cried, her voice breaking as she immediately knelt down and shook his shoulders. The room descended into chaos. Newt knelt down next to them and checked Jacob’s pulse. His eyes widened when he felt how weak it was.
“There is something wrong” he tried to think, but his voice and thoughts were a mess. “I— I don’t know what.”
***
Sometimes you lose. No matter how long you're planning and no matter what you do, there's always a risk that something unexpected might shatter the idea.
CRASH!
Just like a mirror can crash when it’s punched.
CRASH!
And Nurmengard’s window.
THUMB!
And a cabinet when it falls to the floor.
But what matters the most is standing up and collecting the broken pieces. The idea may shatter, but it doesn’t mean the story ends— it just takes a different turn.
The door opened slowly after the loud crashing and banging sounds stopped. The air was heavy with distress and anger. Vinda Rosier didn't expect to see the room completely destroyed, just like she didn't expect to see her master during one of the rare moments of weakness. Every cabinet was open and the items were scattered all over the floor.. The walls were scratched by the heavy objects thrown at them. The window was shattered like he threw something out of it in a fit of rage, the cold night air flowing inside. Sheets of paper were slowly moving around the floor from the night breeze. The curtains looked like they were torn apart by a wild animal and not a man in his late 40s. He didn't seem to react to her presence, instead sitting on the floor, leaning on the wall of a doused fireplace. Vinda was surprised but decided to stay with him. She slowly walked up to him and knelt down by his side.
"Gellert" she looked at him with concern, her voice barely above a whisper. His first name on her lips sounded somewhat peculiar, but it felt right at the moment. Grindelwald didn't look at her, staring blankly at the floor. Vinda's gaze followed his and her eyes locked on the small, old-fashioned picture frame. It used to stand on the fireplace and right now it was the only thing that wasn't shattered or broken in the entire room. She never saw it closely before, mostly because she didn't pay much attention to the details of Nurmergard's furniture. Vinda picked it up carefully, Grindelwald's gaze following the frame like hypnotized. The woman took a closer look at it. Her eyes widened in shock when she realised what she's looking at. The picture portrayed a young Grindelwald with a little girl on his lap. She looked almost exactly like him with the different coloured eyes and straight, white hair.
"Is that you?" she looked at Gellert who was now smiling softly.
"Yes" he answered without hesitation.
Vinda looked at the photo again. Both Grindelwald and the little girl looked peaceful and happy. His grip on the girl was protective, but she could freely observe and touch the energy visible around them, even in the photo.
“You didn’t tell me you have a child” when she looked back at him, she saw the longing and nostalgia in his usually cold eyes.
“You didn’t ask” he took the photo from her and smiled wider. He seemed so warm and vulnerable like never before. “Can you look if there is a big, heavy, dark blue book lying somewhere?”
Vinda nodded and stood up, cleaning the room with a few moves of her wand. Everything went back to its place and the room looked neat again, a complete contrast to the destroyed rage room she walked into. She found the book right away. It was the biggest and heaviest on the bookshelf. The woman grabbed it and handed it to Grindelwald who already put the picture frame back on the fireplace. He took the book and put it on the table, flipping through the pages like he knew exactly what he was looking for. But Vinda’s mind was still racing with unanswered questions that she couldn’t give up on.
“Why didn't you ever introduce us to your daughter?” she asked.
Grindelwald pursed his lips and Vinda immediately noticed that she’s threading on thin ice.
“Because I have not seen her in years” he answered, his cold demeanor back. “
She nodded, not wanting to press the issue further.
“What are you looking for in this old tome?” she stood next to him and looked at the pages. It was a map of the world with notes and scribbles on the sides, a few of them looked like little children’s doodles.
“You’ll see” he took a deep breath. “I just need time to collect my thoughts.”
The woman nodded and turned to leave, but he called after her.
“Vinda” he looked at her, his gaze warmer than ever. “You are a very loyal acolyte.”
Vinda smiled.
“I am very glad you think so” she closed the door behind her, leaving Grindelwald alone with his thoughts and plans.