The Poisoned Petals
In the darkest nights of a forth coming winter the moon was fading behind a veil of melancholy clouds. The land was bathed in white and grey. The trees cast ever-lasting shadows. In amidst the whistle of wind the frosted grass crunched.
She whispered. "Draco,"
There was barely a sound to her voice. Her words were whipped away by the ghosts of breezes. She peered with eyes wide with expectation. Her lips were parted to call once more but her voice had withered entirely.
She stood still for a while. In the ebb and flow of dimness the world transformed. The earth was a carpet of fallen leaves and branches. The sky was a myriad of strokes from the frenzied hand of a despairing artist.
"I am here," he responded.
All the dimness gave way to an ethereal shimmer. The earth was not the earth. The sky was not the sky. The world was birthed anew.
He treaded over the frosted grasses. The whimper of their dying breaths faded as fast as thought. She smiled against her wishes. She pursued him against her mind. All of her senses vanished in the smallest space of time.
His arms wound around her. She felt his warming breath. In the silence longing found her. There, she knew, she would rest.
He spoke and she listened. "I am to leave tomorrow night. This war has begun. I have been called to the unlit side,"
A teardrop whispered down her face. She uttered not a sound.
The silence grew and blossomed. His arms became as thorns. His breath became the fires of the nether realms. She listened to the count-down of his heart.
"I…" she uttered at long last. "I understand."
The cold drew swiftly in. For in that moment, that utter peace, the world faded out from sight. In the cold, she closed her eyes. She listened to their end.
As the finality came to her, she whispered.
"Always,"
Author's Note: I felt that with the advent of the new movie I should write something in commemoration. I do understand that this is not quite fitting for them. They are one of my Black Market couples, though, so that is to be expected. I do understand also that this is most certainly not what I had planned. That is why the title may seem so distant from the content. Petals, however, are of a unique beauty that possesses such fragility. However, I am in slight awe of this. I wonder if I shall ever write as this again.
I thank you if you have spared my tale your time.
