Chapter Two - You shall not weep
The sun was quickly ending his run behind a snowy hill. The dying light faded over the inn of the small village and the last people that had risked themselves out by this biting cold were running in their homes. Two men slipped in the stables of the inn before a gust of snow closed the heavy doors behind them.
The tallest man was holding the rein of a slim and muscular ebony horse, and the smaller but bolder man had a large, strong ocher horse. They both tied their horses to the best place in the stables, meaning next to a torch, and far from the holes in the wall that blew cold air.
The inn was not very crowded, as they had seen it in the stables: apart from their horses, there was only one light grey tied in a corner. The men went to the innkeeper and the red-haired one asked:
"Hello, brave man. We are looking for a place to spend the night, and we fell on your establishment. Do you have a spare room for the both of us?" asked Godric.
"I'm sorry, I only have two rooms with one bed. The others are taken. Here, have the keys." he briefly answered.
He handed them the keys, and Salazar looked around them: how could the rooms be booked? There was absolutely no one in the place! Only a hooded man in the corner was silently drinking his beer, and a young woman was eating her meal at a small wooden table. Salazar's eyes lingered on her petite figure: she had dark hair falling as a curtain on her face, but he had the time to see it before it was hidden by her curls. She had thin traits of a rather noble port, such as a long thin nose that gracefully unified her face. Her mouth was a slim line too, of a natural bright red color. But what had first caught his interest were her bright blue eyes, shining with intelligence and wit. They had the exact color of a dark sea-side sky before a storm. Suddenly her head spun at him, and his eyes drifted away, taking his own keys from the man's hands. The girl stood on her feet and climbed the stairs, probably to her own room.
"We'll have a meal too," asked Godric to the man.
With a grunt, he directed them to a table at the side of the room, just next to the hooded man. They waited approximately an hour before the innkeeper came with something edible. When they finished what was considered as dinner, they went to their rooms. Salazar still thought about the mysterious woman, and was slightly amazed that she had finished her plate.
"Goodnight, Godric." said Salazar hastily. He was eager to jump in a good (maybe not good in that case) bed and read a bit, maybe, because he couldn't even remember the last time he had been alone. During the last two months, they had been together roaming Northern England looking for some special objects: the Deathly Hallows. Salazar had read about it and had made the greatest research possible on the subject, and with Godric's help, they decided that they existed. They had left the Gryffindor castle with the ambition of becoming the two greatest wizards of their time. Salazar secretly hoped to be better than Godric, because he believed himself to be the most worthy of them. Godric had not studied as much as him, and had spent more time practicing sword fighting than magic. And he had a soft spot for Muggles, which Salazar had never quite understood.
He took his cape off and put it on a chair. He took his wand and put it on the table, to have it on sight. His wand was the most important thing to him to this day. He began to strip off his shirt when he heard a thump against the wall of the room. He suddenly stopped everything he was doing, and didn't move any muscle. Another thump broke the silence. The most silently possible, he took his wand and opened the door without a creak. These noises couldn't come from Godric's room, which was on the other side, and his brother would have never heard these, as he slept as deeply as a bear. Salazar stretched out his arm, pressed himself the wall and opened the door by muttering: "Alohomora."
His naked torso shivered against the chilly air that went out of the room. He slipped himself inside but he didn't see anything, as it was pitch dark. A muffled scream came from the corner, and suddenly, he saw:
The hooded man that was having dinner at the side of the dining room was crouching in the corner of the bedroom, and hadn't even heard Salazar come in. His hands were fighting with someone that was under him. The silhouette only let out muffled cries of despair, as one of his hands was on her mouth. Salazar recognised the beautiful girl he had seen earlier and suddenly became angry. As the man tried to pull her robes over her head, Salazar shouted:
"Stupefy!"
A red light shot from his wand and hit the man in the back. He was projected at the other side of the room and fell to the floor, not moving any more. Salazar immediately looked at the woman, still not saying a word. She was curled on herself, crying silently. He wondered what he had already done to her. She slowly lifted her head up to look at him. She didn't even murmur a thank you, which insulted Salazar in a way. He could feel she was not ungrateful, but she was definitely not showing enough. She pointed to a small desk at the other side of the room. Salazar went over them, and what he saw there made his heart jump in his chest. A thin stick of wood was lying on it.
He immediately took it and gave it to the woman, now detailing her with curious eyes. She rose to her feet, still shuddering and shaking from the attack.
She pointed her wand at the inanimate shape of the man. She held to the wall so that her legs shook a bit less. Salazar saw her thin lips form a word, then a silvery light came out of the tip of her wand. The light wrapped itself around the man's body and entered his mouth. When she finished the spell, she shoved the wand under her robes, decided never to leave it away again.
Salazar was still analysing her from above. When she turned to him, she muttered the so waited: "Thank you."
When she took her cape, apparently her only stuff, and was going to pass the door, Salazar stopped her by placing a hand on her arm. She jumped away from his touch.
"You're not leaving, witch."
To these words, she shivered.
"If you think you can stop me from it. I shall leave, wizard." she spat at him silently.
She was defiant in her own way. Even if Salazar felt she was not at her place, he kind of admired that behaviour.
"I mean no harm to you, my lady. Or whatever should I call you. I'm just..." he placed himself in the gap of the door. "intrigued by you."
She looked at the floor.
"Look, we are both wizards and that's great. But I would be grateful if you told this to no one, you understand? I can't allow myself to be caught by Muggles..." she had pronounced the last word with disgust. Salazar was immediately drawn to this.
"I promise you I won't say a thing. I just want to talk, that's all. Come, lets go to my room. I don't want to bear that sight," he said, gesturing in the direction of the man. "Come." he said again.
He put a gentle hand in her back, but was not surprised to see her shiver again under his touch. They went to his room, which he magically locked. He lit a candle and let her put her cape on the chair, where his own clothes lied.
"Sit." he ordered, pointing to the bed.
At first she looked insulted, but she still sat. Salazar turned the chair to face her, but he saw she was biting her lip to blood. Suddenly, she turned her head away. Then he knew she was crying. It was not the ugly kind of crying that a child allows himself to draw attention to him, no. It was more secret, silent. Private. He felt like he intruded himself by strength into her personal space, and did nothing. He let her cry, her face turned at the wall.
"S... Sorry!" she gasped in her tears. "I... I can't... S-Stop..." she put her hands on her face out of shame.
He decided to make a move. He placed a strong hand on her shoulder and pressed it.
"That man will never harm you again." he said rather gruffly.
She tried to breathe, but it was rather hard. Her breath was immediately cut by her sobs and her chest was rising and lowering itself at an alarming speed.
"I am sorry..." she gasped. "I am so sorry... I didn't mean to... Break like that... Like a weak..." she did not finish her sentence. It was too hard.
Salazar had a low chuckle.
"You're apologising because you're crying after being attacked by a depraved Muggle. I think that's ridiculous."
She threw him a glare.
"You're much better than that. Don't cry for this man." he simply said. "He is scum."
She lowered her eyes again. His words had had little effect on her, but she was obviously reflecting on them.
"It's just..." she tried to breathe again. "It's just he was... So strong... And I felt weak... My wand... It was not with me I- I had left it... Like a stupid girl..." she closed her eyes tight.
He slowly stood up and got nearer to her. He knew it was a difficult approach, and tried to be as gentle as possible. He lowered a hand to her head and stroked her hair kindly. She froze under his touch, as expected. She was still shocked by her encounter with the man and her eyes were shut as tears streamed down her cheeks. He was tense but tried not to show it: it would not help her to calm down. It was difficult for him to find comforting words, so he kept on slowly stroking her dark hair. He enjoyed the feeling of his fingers burying into the warm hair and brushing her scalp, though he knew she was not totally comfortable with it. He stopped and stood up, deciding to leave her alone.
"Wait," she mumbled. "Please, be kind, and stay." her voice was timid and fragile, but she clearly wanted him to stay. So he did.
He sat again, but this time he was next to her.
"If you want we can... Talk of this." he tried.
"I don't know, it's rather pathetic..." she said. "I... I know you're doing this on purpose, you're not interested in this... I know it, it's obvious..."
She had stopped crying, but he would've preferred she kept on like this. She was very disturbing: she was a mix of cynicism, self depreciation and loathing. He kind of knew that feel. But she was right: he was not totally interested in how she felt, he was only concerned with her safety. He couldn't find out why, but he cared a lot about that total stranger.
"I care." he lied. "I really do. I'm not like all of the other men, I..."
"You're a wizard?" she hissed. "That's what they all say. I'm not like the other men, you can trust me. That's what this man had said." Salazar knew she talked of her attacker.
It was so painful she was right. But Salazar really wasn't like the other men. He was decided to show it to her.
His hand carefully went to her cheek as she watched, completely frozen. He brushed the tears away and stroked the wetness from her skin. Then , slowly, his other hand came to her neck. He deployed it around her skin and clutched it softly. He felt her veins beginning to pump with fear as he pushed her back on the bed in a lying position. She had to obey, or it would hurt her more. The softer hand left stroking her cheek and rejoined the other in the mimicked strangling.
"I could do it." he said. "I could easily take your life right now, without even using magic."
She didn't even try to push his hands away. Her whole body was tense, and he wanted to know why. She was just looking at him with her dark blue eyes filled with fear but also courage. He immediately stopped his fake attack and let her go. She crawled to the top of the bed, still staring at him.
"But I won't." he said. "The last thing I want to do in this world is to hurt you. So don't tell me I am like all men, you would wound my pride." he was whispering now.
She said nothing. All she did was massaging her neck, clear from any mark of hurting like bruises or red stains. She was still detailing him like he had done to her a few minutes ago.
"This is not the best way to let someone trust you," she said, still far from him. "But I will trust you."
He was not watching her, but he hid a smirk. She seemed intelligent. And he was not saying this because he apparently had earned her trust easily. He could read it in her eyes. He didn't know if he was attached yet to her though, she seemed like she could be a friend of value as well as a strong enemy. He never chose the first path, always the second. But that night, he decided to change that old habit of his. He held out his hand.
"Salazar Slytherin." he said.
"Ro... Rowena Ravenclaw." she answered, blushing. She took his hand.
"Hmm... So, you are a lady? Are you the daughter of the well known lord Elric Ravenclaw?" he sarcastically asked.
"My father has disappeared a long time ago, he is no more well known..." she sighed. "And I am his only heir alive."
"Why are you not in your castle then?" he asked with eyes full of interest.
"I..." she hesitated to answer. "I ran away." she hardly swallowed.
"May I ask why?" he said more silently.
She didn't answer at first. Her fists were clenching then relaxing, but the subject seemed to be uneasy.
"Before he left I don't know where, or died, my father had one last will. He wanted me to marry a lord from northern Scotland that would have assured prosperity for our family for centuries. It was decided when I was still a baby, by that time he was in his thirties. Now he must in his fifties, and he must be looking for me. I don't want to marry him." her voice was trembling as she told her story.
Salazar was listening eagerly, drinking in every word and saving everything in a part of his head, like he always did. This could be very useful information, as well as a help to her. He didn't have the habit to do things for others, especially stranger. But he had the feeling that this young woman was a special person.
"And where are you headed to?" he asked again.
"I don't know where." she said. "I was looking for a place..."
"Which place?"
"I don't know! Any safe place, really. I have a project."
He was pleased with how she seemed to tell him things more easily.
"What kind of project?"
"I'm not going to tell you everything! I barely know you. And you tried to strangle me." she hastily eluded.
"I saved your life." he rectified. "And I want to know what kind of project you're having."
He evilly smirked.
"I'm not telling you. You already know too much." she said, her voice unintentionally coarse.
"Alright, I will wait." he stood up. "And... I had something of great value to my eyes to ask you."
"Yes?..."
"Would you... Look for your place while accompanying me and my friend, Godric Gryffindor, on our quest to find the deathly hallows?"
He grinned at her gasp of surprise.
"The... The deathly hallows? Really?"
"So, is it a yes, or a no?" he was fidgeting of impatience.
"I will come... See it as you want. Maybe you'll think I'm coming for my own safety since you seem to enjoy saving my life, you can think what you want. But strangely, I..." she erased the last bit of tears on her cheek. "I accept with joy, and relief."
"Good." he said. "Then I'll find out about your project." he was smirking again. Curse that, he thought, what a stupid smirk.
"You will only if I tell you." she answered.
They both looked at the window and saw dawn rising. They decided to leave early with Godric, to avoid questions on the body in the room with no memories, for example. Salazar went to Rowena's room with her since he knew she was still frightened of the man laying there. He helped her packing her stuff, though she was embarrassed by it and constantly muttered words of refusal. He gathered his own very rapidly and went to wake Godric. After quick presentations and a few explanations, they left. Rowena had taken the light grey horse that was hers. She seemed to love horses, and her mare seemed to like a lot Salazar's stallion. They rode in the cold morning, heading north again, and Salazar's head was filled with confused thoughts. He who had never been a friendly man, less inviting, had just linked himself with this stranger. He who didn't like to help, less to take no credit for it, had just did the complete opposite. He had tried to comfort this girl, and maybe he had succeeded. And she trusted him. This was a first. She also seemed to share similar views on Muggles with him, and that was what had triggered his interest at first. He also had enjoyed her flustered look as she had seen his bare chest get nearer from her when he had stroked her cheek. He had always had that effect on women. But he particularly liked to see her own reaction. Chasing these thoughts away, he tried to concentrate on the ride. It would be ridiculous for him to fall off his horse... But they always came back.
This is how ends that second chapter... I hope it was not too bad since it was written in a noisy environment, it was terribly hard to concentrate. I am sorry for the waiting, but I have been on a trekking trip. Now my legs horribly ache, and I can barely walk.
As always, I hope you enjoyed this. I hope it's going too quick, tell me if you think so. I welcome reviews that help me to write, and I promise to make everything possible for that story to go on!
