She could feel eyes on her back. It was easy to know when he was watching her, as it had always been, but at this late hour she always felt a twinge of fear that it could be someone else. The castle was secure, guarded by wards and magic beyond that that protected anything in Hogsmeade. Four of the most powerful witches and wizards in the world were here. They would know if anyone unwelcome was prowling among their number - they had to know, for the safety of their students. Still, the fear existed and persisted. Her heart began to beat slightly faster with anticipation; the hair on her arms stood slightly on end. Every night, this happened. And every night, it was just him.
Most nights, when he came in, she was reading. Tonight she was writing. She had come in here early, right after the students had wished her a good evening when leaving the Great Hall following dinner. Four feet of parchment had been filled with her small, neat cursive and she was hardly finished yet. This was a project that would take her a few days at least. Perhaps it was a good thing she was being interrupted now - she would keep going all night otherwise, and without sleep she was a most unpleasant woman to encounter. Trying to hide a smile, and mostly succeeding, she stopped her writing. Without the slight scratching of her quill, everything grew silent. Perhaps too quiet. She was tempted to speak, but the thought of not hearing an answer kept her words in her throat. Holding her breath, she ducked her head. Tapped her quill slightly.
He knew she was waiting for him then, and didn't wait for the verbal recognition he knew would not come. Several months of this ritual had taught him that although she wanted to check that it was him, she would not. She was no coward, but neither was she so bold as Godric. And so he slid from his spot and moved to join her. The library was large, and at this time, not well lit. He could lurk in the shadows in nearly any spot, but he always chose the same one because she always chose the same table to sit at. In his corner, he could watch her face from an angle, and if he looked to his left, he could keep an eye on the door. None could enter without his knowledge.
For a moment, once he stopped behind her, she tensed. That moment of anticipation, of worry, always bothered her. And then his long, elegant fingers were on her shoulders and her breath rushed out in a soft movement. He pushed down, kneaded her muscles. She hadn't realized how wound up she was before. Slowly, he worked the knots free and his hands ghosted down her arms. She shivered as he bent down so his voice was in her ear. "Your work keeps you from me later than usual tonight."
"And how late is later than usual? I feel as though it has only been an hour or two since I sat down." His fingers rested on the inside of her elbows. Even through the fabric of her dress, his touch could drive her wild.
"Hardly. It's been more like five." His voice, smooth and low, was one she could listen to for eternity. It was rich and marvelous, far different than that of Godric - or any other man with whom she had ever spoken. His mouth found her jawline. "Surely that is enough for one sitting."
"Salazar!" She pulled away from his touch, cheeks burning. "You know better than this. Not here."
In a single swift motion, he had stepped back and clasped his hands behind his back. His expression was closed off to her again, and when he spoke his tone was more removed. "Forgive my concern."
"That's not what I meant!" Her eyes flashed with frustration. It was always easy to make him angry, but usually it was easier for others to do so. She turned from him for a moment and sighed as she looked at parchment. The words had begun to blur at the edges, whether from threatening tears or from being tired she wasn't sure. The flames set around the room had started to dim as well, taking both the light and the heat with them. Before long, she would have either had to relight them or resign to going to bed anyway. "I'd rather Helga and Godric not walk in on...anything."
"Let us retire until morning, then." He stood with his hand extended and open and she marveled at how rapidly he could change around her.
"As you wish." She rose and turned to clean up her supplies, until she felt his hand close around her elbow. "Sal-"
"Your scrolls and texts and new writing will still be here in the morning. Come, Rowena."
"Bit pushy, you." For a moment she pretended to be angry, but as she fell into step with him, she let it go and allowed herself to smile.
"And a bit stubborn you." He chuckled softly, the corners of his lips curled slightly. He let go of her hand, only to feel her slide her arm through his so that their elbows linked them together. "I was nearly finished...for the night."
"Ah, shall we add 'a bit of a liar' to our list of qualities?" He arched a brow. She knew he wasn't just talking about tonight. "You've been telling me for days that you are fine, but something is amiss. You lack your usual energy and enthusiasm in your classes; your students have noticed it, as have I. And you complain of feeling ill some points of the day but appear fine later."
"I am tired. So simple an answer, yet true. I promise it."
They settled into an easy silence then, neither wishing to pursue the conversation at the moment. It was one they were likely to have again later. Eight years of this had taught them a lot about each other, as it will with anyone. Eight years of good days and bad days, and everything in between. Eight years of enjoying each other without company, and then with it. In times of peace between all four of them, it was easy. But those days were coming less and less often as of late. Each sought solace in the the other when disagreements with Godric and Helga popped up or when they just became unbearable; as can be expected, Salazar did most of the seeking.
"You seem to come find me every time there's an argument with your dear friend, Godric." The young woman flashed a bright smile, and her laugh showed that she really didn't mind. "I'm starting to think that maybe you like me after all."
The young man, handsome with his silvery-green eyes and nearly black hair, held his arm out to her and smiled at her comments. "Perhaps I do. Would you grant me the privilege, Lady Ravenclaw?"
"Will you give me a proper answer, then?" But even as she asked, she eagerly let him have her arm.
"I'm sure I can work that out." His smile spread up to his eyes as he pulled her into him for a dance. It was rare that they get the opportunity to gather with a magic community, but Hogsmeade was close enough to Hogwarts to be safe. It's citizens had started to send their children to Hogwarts for school, and tonight was their way of saying thank you to the founders. Thanks to them - mainly Rowena - magic could continue to prosper.
A large bonfire burned in the center of a mass of people, it's pops and cracks setting a soft music for those closest to it. Individuals among the crowd took turns playing instruments and singing, offering entertainment that would make even the muggles jealous. Everyone was jubilant - except, maybe, for Godric.
Salazar could feel his friend's eyes on him as he twirled Rowena around, her dark hair flying about her face and coming to rest on her shoulders again. Her dark brown eyes sparkled with pure joy and her laughter was contagious enough to make even her partner want to join in. It was no wonder that there was some jealousy going around. Soon enough, the smell of the fire and the sight of magic folk enjoying themselves distracted Salazar enough that he ignored the other wizard completely. As for Rowena, just the feeling of being held by Salazar made her dizzy with euphoria.
The sky had shifted from blue to nearly-black, and even with the fire, it was easy to see the stars. On a night like this, it was hard to believe that anything was wrong with the world - and the night was far from over. The people of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts had many more events planned for this little celebration, but at the moment, neither Rowena or Salazar were interested in them.
Salazar tugged Rowena's hand gently and she followed without hesitation, winding her way through the crowd until they were in a more secluded place still close enough to know if anything happened to go wrong but far enough away that they could have privacy. Out of sight, the witch pulled the wizard into another dance and her laughter was the only sound from them.
He sent her into another spin and all went well until she caught her feet on one another. As soon as she felt herself falling she closed her eyes, but the harsh impact with the ground never came. Instead, she felt a hand on the small of her back and another hand at the back of her neck and her eyes opened to find her almost, but not quite, on the ground. Smiling again, her eyes softened as she twined her fingers in his dark hair and then his lips landed on hers.
He laid her down gently, ran his hands along her waist and shoulders. His gaze was dark and hungry, but she could see a vulnerability therein and when she reached to run her hands up his arms, he opened up more. She felt like Aphrodite and Hera, and powerful like Zeus. He was looking at her as if she were the most beautiful, most captivating person he had ever had the pleasure to see and she could hardly believe it.
That had been the first time anything had gone that far between them, though it was hardly the first time they sought each other's company out. It had started the day that Godric proposed to her, after she told him no. And from that moment, nothing had been the same between them. She could see the jealousy and hurt in his eyes every time he saw her just walking with Salazar, could never erase the stab of guilt that hit her…but she didn't love him then, and she didn't love him now. They were friends, and only friends, and for the most part, he was okay with that. But she knew he would always resent his friend for what he himself didn't have - even though she had never told anyone, not even Helga, about the proposal.
"If I asked a favor of you, would you do it?" She stopped walking suddenly, knowing he would stop as well.
"Of course." His tone and face both showed concern. "But you know that."
She waited a moment before nodding. "Take me. Here."
"Here?" He looked up and down the corridor. "I know it's late and the students are supposed to be in the dorms, Rowena, but people could walk by."
"You said you would do it." With a quick motion, she reached forward and grabbed his hand again. Tugged on it. "And doesn't a little risk liven things up?"
There was no need for her to say any more; in fact, if she had changed her mind, it may have done no good. He pressed her against the wall with his body slightly rougher than he'd meant to, his frame covering hers. It became tough to breathe within only a few moments, with his mouth taking over hers. She could feel his heartbeat when they broke contact for a few moments to gasp for air and she smiled at the way she always made it speed up. And then they were back to kissing, tongues dancing. He bit her bottom lip lightly and she gasped, pushing into his touch.
She felt as though he'd lit a fire and the flames had spread all over, and this was the hottest fire he'd started yet. An attempt to gasp even his name failed as he gripped her arms with more force than he needed, but he could see it in her eyes and let go slightly. She pulled away for a moment to catch her breath, sides heaving. A look at Salazar showed the same to be true of him, but when she looked to his face, she saw more than just a recovery of oxygen. His eyes were alight with the ferocity of his arousal. He was a predator, waiting to leap on his prey. A shiver of anticipation ran through her.
He took her hands, held them as his thumbs rested on her wrists for a moment, and it struck her that if he wanted to do so, he could very easily kill her. Hurt her. Do anything at all that he wanted to. That was a terrifying thought. Salazar was dangerous, and she knew it. Ambitious and nearly every bit as brilliant as she was, he was calculating and shrewd. Cunning. He knew more dark magic than anyone she knew of, but he didn't let it overrule him. His thoughts didn't line up with those of his friends, not often anymore, at least. And yet, he'd never so much as acted like he wanted to harm her.
All the thoughts disappeared as the wizard efficiently and quickly stripped them both of their clothing. It grew colder in the corridor without the material on her, but that would change quickly, she knew. The braziers down the walls got dimmer suddenly, and she arched a brow at Salazar. His lips twitched, giving her an answer, and she couldn't help her soft laugh. They grew dimmer still, so that most of both of their bodies were cast in shadow.
He kissed the hollow between her neck and her shoulder, flitted his hands down her arms. Moved them to her hips. She squirmed beneath his touch, the hair on her arms rising. And then his touch grew softer, more gentle. More...apologetic. Was it for the way he had snapped at her this morning? Or for making a snide remark about Helga's concern for an upset student? There was no way to know, not with this man. "You're forgiven. But I'll be changing my mind if I don't get what I want soon."
Fingers dipped below her hips and she gasped, surprised. Usually he preferred to draw everything out, but perhaps tonight he wanted her more. Or he was just happy to satisfy her. Regardless, she was hardly about to complain.
One finger eased in, followed by a second, and she felt hardened flesh between them. There was barely enough room for her to move her hand, but she was able to maneuver well enough. Tenderly, she stroked. He closed his eyes, let out a soft moan. She smirked; getting a sound out of him was a rare occurrence. Much to her displeasure, he withdrew his fingers soon and stroked her thigh. Bent down and kissed a line from her stomach to the valley between her breasts, then up to her collarbone. The moisture where he'd touched left cooler spots on her skin and she shivered.
A moment later he lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around him as he situated himself to support her against the wall. He entered her in a swift thrust, pausing only long enough to ensure she was stable and then settling into a rapid pace. Her nails dug into his back as she tried to keep herself quiet. Magic, logic, and intelligence were far from the only talents he had been gifted with.
Repeatedly he buried himself inside of her, his jaw clenched and his eyes dark. Her lips, neck, breasts, and ears hardly lacked for attention throughout, and when she couldn't hold back her moans any longer, he couldn't hide his smirk. He himself wasn't far behind her, bucking against her forcefully a final time a few moments after her shudders ended and hissing Parseltongue harshly into her ear. She never what it was that he said, but it never failed to make heat pool low within her all over again.
For a long moment, the pair stood in silence. Salazar's head was pressed to the wall behind Rowena's shoulder. Rowena rested her forehead against his shoulder, her eyes closed. Recovering enough to bear her own weight took several minutes, but one would hardly know that by looking at the wizard holding her. He barely moved, simply enjoyed holding his witch.
"Rowena?" He'd recovered enough of his energy to move from the wall, and, feeling him move, the witch indicated she would like to be put down. He waited until she was standing to continue. "Marry me."
Her breath caught in her throat. "What?"
"I need it, Rowena. Need you. Every part of you, every bloody, brilliant part." There was a pleading in his eyes that she had never seen before, one that made her heart ache on an entirely new level. "Please. Don't make me beg you."
"I… Salazar…" Her heart was racing more than ever. How could she say yes? But how could she say no? "May I answer you on the morrow, when neither of us are saying things from exhaustion or simple passion?"
"You know I am here for you. Always. You know I will stand beside you, that I count you as my dearest companion. That I love you."
And the way that he emphasized those last three words broke her heart in half. "I know all of that," she said softly, "and you know that I love you too. But I need to rest, and… Please. Let us speak of this in the morning."
He closed his eyes. Nodded. She couldn't know it, but he was cursing the loyalty she had to her friends. Their friends. They no doubt played a part in her hesitation. And her cursed the manner in which he had proposed, for he knew how much she loved it when he made a romantic gesture. Asking for marriage directly after an act they weren't even supposed to commit hardly classified. But mostly he cursed himself, for wondering if there were some secret reason why Rowena would deny him an answer tonight. Her hand on forearm brought his thoughts back, and he met her dark eyes steadily. Those dark, dark eyes that knew him almost better than he knew himself. "Of course, Rowena."
"Thank you…" She kissed his jaw gently. "Shall we, then?"
She decided to join him in bed, both because she was unwilling to redress to return to her own and because she loathed the idea of leaving him - even if he was asleep. He'd slipped into sleep within a few moments of pulling his duvet over them. His arm rested around Rowena, her own safety blanket. Here, curled into the wizard most capable of hurting her, was where she felt the most secure.
Yet even security would not let her brain stop, would not let her sleep. "Damn you, Sal… Damn you and your proposal."
It was all she could think about. Say yes? Or say no? To do the first would be to accept his ideas, to tell Helga and Godric that she agreed with him completely. Would Godric stand for it? Yet to do the second would be to break his heart, and her own. And who knew what he would do if she denied him?
But the first…
It smelled like cinnamon and apples. That was the first thing she noticed as she stepped into the Great Hall that night, and her eyes immediately found Salazar's. Apple pie was his favorite. He smiled at her as soon as he saw her, and the students in the hall followed his gaze. She felt the blush coloring her cheeks at all the eyes, but pretended they didn't exist as she made her way to the staff table.
Dinner conversation was dull, until all the students left the hall to return to their dorms. The moment the last had exited, the teasing among the four had begun. Joking and warm laughter made for a pleasant atmosphere, until it was time they each spoke to their House.
Rowena's conversation with her students was short; they hardly needed her to remind them of the quidditch activities of the upcoming weekend - or anything, really. They were a brilliant bunch, and polite. Satisfied with them, she thought she would surprise Salazar and meet him outside the dungeons.
There was a surprise for her there. Rather than being in their common room, they had gathered on the dungeon steps. And rather than hearing anything she would like to hear, she heard 'Mudblood' and that was all it took.
He sought her out not even half an hour later, found her down by the lake. The water was dark, except for the berth where the moon shone down. She had been crying, and his hands found her cheeks still wet.
"Rowena, forgive me. What I spoke earlier, to my students, it wasn't what you think."
And even though his touch made her pulse quicken, she wanted to be mad at him. To just tell him to go away. But she couldn't. She wanted to yell, to scream. But she also wanted to fall into his arms, to tell him that she loved him even if she didn't agree with him. That would be too easy.
"You called me a Mudblood! And you meant it!"
"I did not!"
"Which part?!" Fresh tears began to course over his strong hands.
"Both!"
"Then why say it, Salazar? For six months - six MONTHS - you refuse to even be alone in the same room with me when the students are permitted all around the castle. I thought we were friends, Salazar, with the work we put into this school. I thought we were more than that, with everything between us." Her eyes showed only hurt.
"We are friends, Rowena. We're more than that. But I have to have an image for my students." His own eyes were closed off.
"You don't want them to see us together, do you?" She turned her face away from him. "I'm muggle-born, after all. Is hating me not the pure-blood way?"
"Perhaps the pure-blood way is not always the best way, Rowena."
Something in his voice made her turn back to look at him. "And why on Earth would you say something like that?"
Now his face was open, and she could see his feelings all over it. "Why do you think?"
She bit her lip. Sighed.
Slowly, she moved his arm so that his hand rested over her stomach and twined her fingers together with his. When morning came, she would give him his answer - and her news. As she closed her eyes, she practiced her words. "Lies require commitment. But this is the truth. And the truth is that I love you, Salazar Slytherin, and of course I will marry you."
And it may have been her imagination, or it may have been the truth, but Salazar squeezed her hand gently and whispered in her ear. "I love you too, Rowena Ravenclaw."
a/n;; well this was fun to write! I did this for two reasons...
My favorite person around, Lizzie, is always willing to help me out. I wanted to write but had no ideas, so she gave me a prompt to write about the Founders. So here we are. Thank you so much, Lizzie!
The second is that I needed an entry for the Divergent Competition. I used the Candor quote, "Lies require commitment."
Reviews are appreciated here, with this being my first Founders piece!