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Chapter 3
"The Supreme irony of life is that hardly anyone gets out of it alive…" Robert Heinlien
'The Behavior of people falls within a range with some behavior common, some unusual, some acceptable, and some outside acceptable limits. In society, behavior is considered as having no meaning, being not directed at other people and thus is the most basic human action. Behavior should not be mistake with social behavior, which is a more advanced action, as social behavior is behavior specifically directed at other people. The acceptability of behavior is evaluated relative to social norms and regulated by various means of social control.'
Such a tight knit group of outcasts, fighting to survive, dealing with normal problems; Rejection, acceptance, resistance, life, desire – appetite, hunger and thirst. People who had been gathered and been given a gilded cage as apposed to a life of pain; either way one just seemed a little easier to deal with then the other.
Hermione was amazed to see how well this small community worked with one another. She could see make shift families, of a man, woman, and a child or two. They did not see that the bonds of blood did not tie them together. It was clear that this social balance worked for all. The men hunted for food, repaired homes, made necessities for living from the woods that surrounded them, ultimately providing for their family unit.
The women taught the children the basics of knowledge, sowed cloths, weaved, gardened, cooked, and cleaned. Like wise with the children they were broke up respectively into gender groups. The young boys would learn to do the things the male figures did, and the young girls would follow the women helping with various chores.
That was not to say that it was as peaceful as any normal society outside this small village of outcasts. There were disputes about minor things that would be taken care of in one way or another but for Hermione it just seemed to be something all together new to her. Perhaps it was because she took advantage of her day-to-day life, living next to her neighbor and knowing, in the back of her mind, that they were just the same as she. Knowing that the person she passed on the street on her way to the market was free to choose as she did, and that the person behind her in line at the bookstore did not suffer from an ailment that caused others to ostracize them.
For as knowledgeable as she was, Hermione came to the conclusion she had in fact lived a very narrow minded life. Not seeing the real problems beside her; only the ones that were placed in her path. She could securely say that she was not the only person that could admit to this fact. However as much she, or those she knew, would like to declare they did see these things, and they did know these problems, the fact still remained that they were all guilty of not acting or doing anything about it.
Living out each day only worrying about the problems that affected only them. But wasn't that normal for human behavior? Yes, indeed it was normal for human behavior, but as society did not categorized these men, women, and children, as human, somehow it opened a new door for Hermione to watch out of. It was a world that she was the one not accepted in, the one with out the affliction that made her different.
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Life as it was day to day seemed to progress smoothly, with no current threats hanging over the heads of the pariahs that made up this small parish; with their modest wooden homes, hand made irrigation systems and so on and so on. It amazed Fenrir how society had cast away these people who where obviously so productive and eager to carry out their lives. Some who had been infected with lycranthropy had degrees and were quite knowledgeable in various things. It was what helped make this place thrive as it did.
The thought of how ignorant people could be, and how they let fear override every good intention, made his lips curl into a snarling smile, showing his sharpened canines; weathered from time and use, but still fatal in their bite. What caught his attention now was the passive, but still curious observation of the girl…no woman that had wounded his so deeply on the battlefield.
She did not try and interact with the people around her and in turn they ignored her as if she was just another piece of the land. Fenrir had watched her continuously for the past two days since returning. He could not smell an ounce of fear from her. Was she so ready for death that she merely sat and waited for it, he wondered? The only time he would see a glimmer of reaction on her face was when the French boy, Benoit, would talk to her throughout the day, and tend to her.
Before Fenrir knew it, night had fallen in his domain, and on this particular set into twilight came the monthly gathering. Where a bonfire was lit and the people would gather with food and various musical instruments, with abundant wine passed around to entertain them.
Fenrir as always stayed impassive, but kept his ever-watchful eye on the woman as the blond haired youth steered her towards the bulk of the congregation. The air tasted thick with tension at her arrival, but the boy merely smiled and took to pouring wine into his elder's cups. Urging them silently to drink up. The smell of the day's hunts hung heavily in the air, and the melody of a fiddle being played finally broke the strain.
A skin of wine was pressed into Fenrir's hand and he drank without blinking, and picked at the fruits offered to him in passing. Things, by this time, were into full swing, with small tightly drawn drums being beat, and the playful light song of a fiddle being picked out. Someone was singing an old tune, and everything was only interrupted by the occasional burst of laughter, or the delighted squeal of a child running by.
Still Fenrir could not seem to take his eyes away from the almost wiry haired woman sitting, straight backed, her head held high and her eyes trained forward on the roaring fire. Her white complexion nearly matched that of the long white dress she wore, her attire was not unlike that of everyone else's present, and he could only assume the child had given it to her to wear, possibly from his mother. The garment hung loosely around her shoulders, framing them, and snug around the flare of her hips. Her bare feet were tucked one behind the other, poised at an angle, with her knees together.
The picture of a perfect lady…
His snarling grin crept back onto his face as he took another swig of the fruity wine and stood. He wanted nothing more to see that image crack, and crumble due curtsey of his own hands, of course. Fenrir wanted to taste her blood on his tongue as he licked it from that delicate skin and he wanted her trepidation to fill him as he slowly killed her. Just seeing that calm face of hers sitting, passively, and ignoring her surroundings made his blood sing with ire.
But…he supposed he could have a different kind of fun first.
Taking a step further into the crowd, his presence halted the music and laughter, and everyone…everyone except her looked his way.
Such arrogance, he thought to himself as he titled her head back slightly and looked down at the woman he approached. He took note that Benoit was once again at her side, his hand frozen in midair in a manner that looked like he was about to touch her hand.
"Well," Fenrir growled. "Won't you entertain us tonight, woman?"
Her eyes slowly ascended his towering presence until they met with his own.
"Entertain you?" She questioned. Her only response was broad smile. Fenrir did not step back as she stood slowly in front of him, letting her hands fall limply to her side. His gaze hungrily took in the site of the angry; raw wound still extremely visible marring her now imperfect body. For some reason he liked that he put it there, it told everyone that he had marked her as his prey.
"I didn't take you as one to play with your good, Greyback," her smoky, alto voice jerked him back to reality as he saw that she was staring at him in earnest.
"Well," he returned. "It seems that I am, woman. Now, do it…or are you scared?"
His voiced dropped suddenly, taunting her and he brow twitched in amusement at the anger that flickered through her eyes. She lowered her head, breaking contact with him, her long hair hiding her face from him. Walking past him she presented herself to the crowd of werewolves. In turn he took her spot right in front of her and grabbed a hold of the boy that had started to rise to go after her. He dragged Benoit down until he was sitting next to him, and gave his shoulder squeeze in warning.
Everything was quiet, not even the sounds of the nightly insects dared to break it. With her back to the tall fire her face was shadowed even though he knew that she faced straight ahead. When he watched her take a breath, his eyes widened slightly and the smile dropped from his face when the first soft note surpassed her lips.
"I here your voice on the wind, and I here you call out my name. 'Listen, my child,' you say to me. 'I am the voice of your history. Be not afraid, come follow me, answer my call, and I'll set you free,'"
The high note rung deeply into his ears, but it was far from unpleasant. He again was almost shocked to hear the found of the fiddle being played as the muggle born witch sang, but she seemed none pulsed as it joined her.
"I am the voice of the wind and the pouring rain. I am the voice of your hunger and pain. I am the voice that always is calling you. I am the voice, I will remain."
Even though her body language did not change, her voice grew more confident with each passing note, crisp, and clear through the evening air.
"I am the voice in the fields when the summer's gone. The dance of the leaves when the autumn winds blow. Ne'er do I sleep throughout all the cold winter long. I am the force that in spring time will grow."
Fenrir watched as the fiddle player stepped up and showed off by dancing for the crowd and dipping low as his solo ended and he once again stepped to the side to let way for the voice. He tore his eyes off the figure in front of him and glanced around quickly to see a few people smiling at the familiar tune, and he frowned when he heard the beatings of the drum for its instrumental accompaniment.
"I am the voice of the past that will always be, filled with my sorrow and blood in my fields. I am the voice of the future, bring me your peace, bring me your peace, and my wounds, they will heal."
He watched as she slowly brought her good hand to rest across her stomach and her small hand clenched into a fist. Fenrir's attention was once again grabbed by her singing and listened intently as the song climaxed for the ending.
"I am the voice in the wind and the pouring rain. I am the voice of your hunger pain. I am the voice that always is calling you I am the voice. I am the voice of the past that will always be. I am the voice of your hunger and pain. I am the voice of the future. I am the voice."
His golden-flecked eyes watched as her closed eyes slowly opened to stare right back at him, in almost a challenging way.
"I am the voice."
His top lip twitched at the impudence he saw clearly directed towards him.
"I am the voice."
A deep low growl rumbled up through his chest and past his lips when he saw the corners of her lips turn upwards into a small grin.
"I am the voice."
When the last note was cute off with a resounding bang of the drums, no one moved, and no one dared speak.
"So," her soft low voice drifted towards him through the silence, and he could hear the slight amusement there. "Was that adequately entertaining, for you?"
Her tone brought forth another growl, this one more audible then before, and he suddenly grinned before standing.
"I do believe you'll be fun…"
He let the words hand in the air, and let them be taken, as they would be without further explanation behind them. By the time he reached his own home he could hear that the music had started up again, but the singing he heard was rowdy and off key. Sighing he pushed open the door and sat down in the thick wooden chair by the open window, content to drift farther into his thoughts, and plans as he listened to gatherings festivities.
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A/N - Again thanks for reading. The song used was 'The Voice' by the Celtic Women. Hope to see you all at the next chapter!