All recognisable characters belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic/Bloomsbury, Warner Bros. All unrecognised character, situations and ideas belong to me! No copyright infringement is intended, no money is being made.
She could hear her husband snoring through the ridiculously thin walls. It was time.
Luna gently lifted herself from her bed, threw on a fluffy and hopefully warm dressing gown and made her way out of her bedroom, through the back door and towards the bottom of their garden. Once at the bottom, she closed her eyes, a look of intense concentration emerging on her face , and disapparated with a slight, muffled pop.
She reappeared in the middle of dense forest. It could have been any forest, until you really looked around and took it all in. The trees were ancient, snarled and twisted; the green leaves and moss that covered them, grew from them, did nothing to alleviate their sinister and seemingly malevolent intent. The breeze that drifted through the leaves seemed to whisper; diabolical murmurs that slithered through the mind, sending fear sparking down the spine.
A rustle behind her caused to spin quickly, silvery blue eyes searching through the murky surroundings for it's origins.
"Merry met, little witchling. Tell me, which of those beautiful eyes do you see us with?"
Luna shivered as the words seemed to caress her flesh, sliding over her breasts and across her abdomen. The voice was low, cultured. It was urbane and slightly mocking. It also had a suggestion of a low, rumbling growl that carried with it a sense of danger. The voice said "Answer me correctly, or you shall not last long in this world."
"Merry met, my Lord. I see you with neither, though your voice I hear perfectly."
Another rustle, again behind her. Footsteps coming towards her. Stopping behind her. The heat of another's body, the tingle of magic so different and powerful waking her flesh to goosebumps. The scent of sunlight and ripe apples surrounding her, drugging her senses and muddling her mind. Hands, large, strong and shining white sliding around and meeting underneath her breasts, causing her nipples to tighten and other things to pulse in anticipation.
Long hair, the colour of fresh grass falling around her, enclosing her. Lips as soft as kitten fur moving slowly down her neck, her eyes closing and her head falling back against a strong, broad shoulder.
"Why have you sought my company this night? Do you forget your words to me so easily? You said that you neither wanted nor needed me. That I was merely an 'experience'. That my moonlight skin was no match for the sun-kissed flesh of your own kind. That I was too alien, too other, and that while I was a delightful lover, I am not a creature of constant emotion, and therefore.....unacceptable for anything more than a mere dalliance."
As he repeated her words to her, she remembered her fear, her sorrow and her regrets; all things she had felt seventeen years ago.
"I was afraid. I was lost. I was pregnant." her words fell into the darkness along with her tears.
"I know." her heart stopped, a pause that she was sure would be eternal. Her blood froze in her veins and she felt her legs begin to weaken. She turned in his arms, looked into his eyes, his eyes of petals of all shades and hues. They were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. The eyes of a God.
"You know? Then you know what is happening now, don't you? You know why one of my sons is losing his mind and killing. You know why he hears the baying of hounds."
"His hounds call to him. They call their master. You should have expected this. He awakens."
"He is a wizard. He is my child. They both are."
"No, little witch, they are my children, and I have them soon enough. The hunt readies itself. The hounds call and the oath-breakers huddle in corners, hide in shadows for fear of what will come. And come it will." His voice was resolute, cold and implacable.
"No." Her denials were useless, she knew. She had done this to them, in her stupidity and recklessness. She had thought herself able to take from a creature of nature and give nothing in return; and now her sons, her beautiful, ethereal, perfect sons were going to pay her debts.
"Of course. Had you forgotten there are two Courts?" The smile reaching his eyes, but showed no true happiness; only a cruel enjoyment of her pain and anticipation of more pain to come. "You can try to hide them, you can try to mute their power, but we call with truth. Denial of their true natures will not save them, witchling. You will not save them."
He gently stroked her cheek, catching a tear and bringing it to his lips, savouring it's taste. As Luna fell to the ground, head bowed and fingers curling through the grass, he bent and kissed the top of her head.
"Thank you for giving us our Princes, nature witch."
Watching him walk away, Luna's heart hardened, and she stood, ready to apparate away. She needed to talk to Minerva. She needed to protect her sons. Her Princes.