Rowena Ravenclaw had never thought of whether her clothes were prudent until she came to be lost in the forest of thorns. Running from the soldiers, she hadn't much time to think of which direction to go and had found herself in the thorns. They sliced at her clothes and exposed skin and her blood dripped to the earth below.
She could hear the dogs catching up to her, just behind her. One of them jumped and its teeth tore at her arm and its weight crashed against her. She fell into a giant thorn and it pierced her side but she managed to push the beast off of her, flinging it away where it impaled itself on a thorn of its own. With a yelp the dog was silenced but its brothers still hunted her.
As she clutched at her side, feeling lightheaded and tired and having no energy to run any longer or fight any more, she closed her eyes and awaited the fangs. She heard the snarls and heard the great dogs leap, then a yelp, a shout, and the slicing of a sword. She opened her eyes to see a man fend off the beasts and slay them as they attacked.
That was the last Rowena saw before her eyes closed wearily.
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Rowena woke up with a groan as she rolled and felt the dull pain in her side.
"Don't move," She heard a voice say from her left.
Startled, she sat up quickly and just as fast she cried out in pain and lay gingerly back on the cold hard ground, gasping for breath. With a curse the voice moved to her side and told her in a voice that carried very little warmth or compassion simply that she was a fool for ever having been out in the thorns.
She tried to blink through the tears that clouded her vision but found that even with them gone it made no difference, she could not see the man. He was shrouded in shadows with a cloak and cowl so deep it seemed to swallow his head. All she could see were the glimmering lights that she presumed to be eyes shining out from the hood, reflecting the fire but holding none of its warmth.
She cried out again as he prodded her side with a finger.
"We have to get back on the move." Was all he said as he stood and walked away.
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She stood beside her mysterious protector grumpily within the bar. He had found her clothes but they were not the type that she was accustomed to. The clothes he had found her were a combination between tight leather and loose scratchy wool. It held none of the elegance that she was used to but she refused to complain to the man beside her as he seemed to think her helpless enough already.
He had warned her many times not to leave his side in the tavern and had reminded her again when they took up their position leaning against the pillar. She wanted nothing more than to simply sit and rest but refused herself that as well.
She was tired and wounded and the fact that she knew that he knew as he smirked and smoked his pipe made her angry beyond belief. Never had she been so disrespected.
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She had found his weakness. He was a softie. She knew because she had caught him smiling at the stray as he fed it their scraps knowing as well as she he would have to hunt again due to it. She laughed and he stiffened.
He turned to face her and she watched as a slight blush spread across his cheeks, barely noticeable in the shade of his cowl.
"Softie," She called him.
He frowned and refused her acknowledgement. Knowing full well she was annoying her frustrating protector she repeated her statement in a singsong voice.
"Not," he growled back but she simply grinned and stated it once more. Finally, he snapped, crying out that he was not a softie, she smiled and repeated it once more.
He growled and took a step menacingly at her before the stray whined loudly causing him to look down at the starving dog that she already knew would never leave them alone again thanks to him before the stranger groaned and petted its head, reaching into his pack once more to pull out more dried meat to feed it.
He shot her a look that clearly told her not to say anything but smirked as he saw her instead smiling softly at the sight of the gruff man feeding the stray. Then he groaned again.
He really was a softie.
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Rowena watched as the dog ran about happily, now well fed and having grown quite attached to the two humans it followed about and they likewise.
It had become the glue between the two, when she felt ready to burst in frustration the dog reminded her to calm herself and when he felt himself ready to strangle the royal the dog reminded him that she had something about her that made him want to keep her around.
He had named it Merlin, after someone he used to know, he said.
She smiled as she reached down to pet the dog and chuckled happily as it licked her fingers lovingly. She lifted a piece of wood she had earlier gathered for their fire and lifted it high. He was nowhere around, he'd never know.
So Rowena threw it, careful not to reopen her finally healing wounds, and Merlin chased the stick that had flown piteously not far from its start but far enough to please the old pup.
She reached for the old stick but he jumped away, choosing instead to play a different game. She chased Merlin and when she caught it she forgot for a moment of her wounds and her position as a princess and fought for the stick like she had for her life for so many weeks up until then.
Finally she sat up, victorious while Merlin jumped about excitedly wanting to play more only to finally hear the laughter coming from the shadows of the trees behind her.
She whirled about and found her protector, Salazar Slytherin he had finally told her, there, doubled over and laughing harder than ever before and wiping tears from his eyes as he took in her mud covered victorious form.
Strangely, it was then that they decided that they didn't quite hate each other.
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Rowena rested with her head on Salazar's lap as he held her hand and told her tales of his adventures before the time that was then.
Her wounds had reopened and he had tended to the closing of them not long before and had decided she deserved a break to rest.
He was leaning against a large fallen tree and used his free hand to create huge extravagant motions as he told his tales and she lay quietly on the grass with Merlin by her side.
She clutched his hand tightly, braving the pain and reveled in his stories as he spoke of mountains and giants and daring swordfights and dragons.
She fell in love with his tales just as much as she did with his voice and his touch and his laugh then as he told of his embarrassing mishaps of times past.
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There are times when people become important without ever meaning to and without you ever noticing and that was how it was for them.
One day Rowena couldn't stand him and he thought that she was a spoiled princess and the next they had become more. She knew now that he really was more than just some random man with a bad temper and short fuse. He was more. He was her rock in the crazy life that they led and she was sure that he'd never abandon her.
For Salazar it was more difficult to accept. She wasn't supposed to mean anything to him. So long as she stayed the pompous, petty princess whose father hired him to keep safe and bring to him.
She wasn't supposed to become someone he never wished to part from…
Salazar held Rowena close and began to spin her around to music that sounded only in his head and she laughed as he did.
She forgot that they were running from dark forces and that their clothes were torn and tattered and that she wasn't supposed to fall for her mysterious, dark haired protector but she also forgot that she was supposed to care about all of those things.
In that moments as Salazar smirked handsomely in the way that drove her mad and hummed a tune as he spun her around in slow circles before their campfire, careful not to reopen her wounds, she felt instead that there was nothing more wonderful than that moment.
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Salazar stood beside his friend, watching her dance with the villagers around the fire as they celebrated the new moon.
The people of the village had dragged her into the circle and were now spinning and skipping in circles round the great bonfire as the dog ran among them all barking and yelping in excitement. He smiled as she laughed.
Then he turned his gaze to his friend, Godric Gryffindor and found him smirking at him smugly, "You love her, don't you?"
Salazar glared at him, "No." He muttered as a faint warmth spread over his face. He knew it wasn't from the fire and as he turned his face to gaze again of the girl a small smile appeared again of his face and knew that maybe his friend was right.
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They were catching. He was a fool for letting them get so close.
Rowena was in danger that was all they knew.
Salazar rushed to her aid and she pleaded for him to leave so that he would not be harmed.
He ignored her pleas and rushed her attackers, sword flashing and slicing the oh so delicate skin of those around her. He would not let them take her from him, not yet.
What had started out as a promise to her father, a contract so nearly fulfilled, had become so much more for now he could not bear to lose the girl.
He would not lose her.
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Salazar leaned against Rowena heavily and she held him whispering quietly to him to hold on.
In one hand he still clutched his sword and in the other he attempted to hold her as well. To hold her for the last time.
Tears were streaming down her face as she held him to her, trying to avoid looking at the arrow that was sticking out of his back and to ignore the fact that her dress was being stained red from his blood.
He shushed her tears, or attempted to, resulting in a hoarse sound that made her shoulders shake from suppressed sobs.
She calmed her breathing and kissed his face quietly and began to sing the song that they had once danced to so long before.
He smiled or grimaced in pain, she could not tell, and once more she promised him help would arrive.
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Rowena stood on the balcony of her room, wearing a dress that showed much of her back where her long black hair hung and a diadem that shone like the moon, watching the lanterns rise from the people below during the festival of the moon.
It felt so strange now to be above them again after having been living among them and hiding with them for so long she was no longer used to the flowing dresses and sparkling tiaras knowing now just how pointless such thing could be.
She missed the adventures and she missed her protector.
She had not seen Salazar since her father's physician had taken him away nine moons ago. Her mother had mentioned marriage and she had in return, mentioned giving over her position as heir to her sister, Helga and her husband Bart Hufflepuff, the kitchen boy.
She sighed and leaned against the railing and looked up at the moon above her felt tears begin to well up in her eyes and Merlin began to whine and lick comfortingly at her fingers.
Then without warning, she felt a familiar hand upon her back, tracing a scar she knew she would forever wear and she felt the cold metal of a ring she would never forget. She turned quickly and found Salazar standing there staring in awe at seeing her tears.
He drew back, unsure of her feelings after so long before she rushed forward and held him to her tightly. She cried into his chest, thankful that he was alive.
Surprised, he winced as she upset his still sore wounds and smiled uneasily and stood stiffly before laughing and slinging her around in circles.
They left the kingdom that night with her throne to her sister as she was sure it had always belonged.