Who's Your Daddy?

The door opened and Dora’s easy smile tightened as she saw that it was not Fin who had answered the door, but his father. He was an attractive man, even at his age, and it bode well for Fin’s good looks that his father still had a full head of hair and the defined lines around his eyes and brow only seemed to make him look more distinguished the older he got. If only he smiled more. Real smiles, not the forced one he was giving her as he called her by her full name (such a mouthful!) in a monotonous tone that held no warmth in it. “Hello, Mr Avery,” she said, trying a charming smile on for him as he stepped backwards into the mansion and allowed her to enter. Mummy Avery was much more approachable and she cooed properly over the effort Dora had put into her appearance for the occasion. “Mrs Avery, its so lovely to see you.” Dora pulled her winter cloak off, a formality as she was wearing her patented warming charm that kept her looking fresh and cozy in short dresses all year long. Cloak in hand, Dora gave Fin’s mum a hug, catching Fin’s eye and mouthing “oh my Godric” at him as she gestured to her face, implying his mum had once again had some noticeable spellwork done. The woman looked hardly older than Dora, despite being a good twenty years her senior. Dora was a fan of beauty charms as well, but there was a limit. Looking younger than your own daughter seemed a creepy line to cross but Meredith seemed unperturbed by it. "You look amazing, yourself. This dress is stunning." Flattery went a long way with Meredith Avery.

Releasing the motherly hug Dora had unknowingly been looking forward to, she strolled over to Fin and raised herself up to give him a peck on the cheek in greeting. “Sorry I’m late,” she whispered, knowing that she actually wasn’t. The Averys were just expectedly early. Dora turned gracefully and headed toward the cloak cupboard, to hang hers up, noting two ladies’ cloaks crumpled on the floor. She hung hers on a wooden hanger, then pulled one fur lined cloak after the other and set them each to hanging properly. If Aurelius saw them as he was leaving, that would be just one more thing for him to nag Fin about, and Dora’s entire purpose here was to negative as much of that negativity as possible. She was doing a banger job of it, judging by the man’s warm greeting. “Is your sister here?” she asked Fin, looking around but not seeing Anna in the entry.

Dora put on a pleasant expression as the Averys entered the little dining room, her eyes shifting to Fin’s as she saw Aurelius’ expression turn from general disappointment to disdain. He’d literally just stepped foot in the room, how could he possibly have found fault already?! Dora smiled reassuringly at Fin, an expression they had perfected over their many years to let the other know someone in the room was being a right tit and couldn’t be acknowledged audibly. Fin set to assigning everyone a seat and Dora sat happily as Fin pulled her chair for her. Thank Merlin she was sitting next to Meredith and not Aurelius. Fin would never do that to her if he could avoid it, and she would do the same for him in return. The seating arrangement seemed spot on and yet Fin’s father continued to stand, his expression looking as though someone was shoving a red hot poker where the sun didn’t shine. Dora occupied herself with her napkin and turned her eyes down toward her lap so as to avoid letting her own face give her feelings away. She only lifted her gaze for a moment as the table began to stretch and then forced her sights back to her own space. Finally the man was sitting but Dora knew that wouldn’t be the end of it.

An insult smothered by a mother’s love. Fin was so much more like his mum than his dad, but really only in that he wasn’t an insufferable wank. Aside from looks and the occasional hot-headedness, Dora preferred to think that her best friend had none of his father in him. Fin was just a prince and she gushed as much. “They are,” she agreed with Merry, popping a small fork full of potatoes in her mouth. “It’s all fabulous, Fin.” She patted his leg beneath the table as his mum started in on the weight conversation. Weight, make up, fashion, those were the topics Dora engaged the most in with Fin’s mum. It was easy conversation and something Dora was actually interested in, so there was rarely any faking it. She saved that for chats with Anna. “Naturally gifted, I suppose. Though I do try to watch what I eat and get plenty of exercise.” She flashed a quick glance at Fin and joked softly, “although the morning sickness isn’t hurting.”

Dora was still looking at Fin when Aurelius began to choke and as her attention turned to the man struggling to eat a simple piece of broccoli Dora’s eyes widen with fear. Oh shit. Why had she said that? Why now, in front of the worst possible people to say that to? This moment could have only been made worse by her own mother’s judgmental presence but even that she thought she might be able to manage. Fin’s father, on the other hand… “Bollocks,” she said to herself, an intense feeling of dread overcoming her as the choking man recovered, his eyes staring intensely at her. He asked her to clarify what she had said but Dora, though not very smart in the traditional sense, was bright enough to know he had heard her perfectly well. Of course he had. She hadn’t been quiet about it. What had she been thinking?! She hadn’t been, that was the problem. So consumed with making Fin feel more at ease, she had completely lost the plot. She could blame it on the pregnancy but it all was still so new to her that Dora didn’t yet realize that was an option, not that it would improve the current situation any.

Starting to turn her head toward Fin, who was too bloody silent to be of any real use, Dora found she couldn’t actually pull her eyes away from Mr Avery and her silent plea for help from her best friend went unfinished. “I haven’t told my mum yet,” she remarked timidly, as if that was some sort of buffer. Rebekah had basically disowned Dora after Theon’s death, she certainly wasn’t high on the list of people Dora had considered telling she was pregnant to. The baby might be eight and a half before Dora worked up the nerve to speak to her mother again but that was neither here nor there. Dora felt queasy and she wasn’t sure whether it was the look in Aurelius’ eyes or the morning sickness again. She felt as if she might cry if she had to sit there any longer. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, eyes still locked with Fin’s father.