I apologize now to you here at fanfiction.This story is rated NC-17 at checkmated but such content is not allowed here. So, you miss out on the hot, sexy Harry/Ginny lurve that is meant to start out this chapter. If you want to read it and you're over 17, head on over to checkmated – my username there is purrfect, the story name is the same. Otherwise, this chapter is pretty much the same, if shorter. Again, sorry, and enjoy.

Keelyn had lived most of her adult life with silence and in stillness. While restlessness had often marked her childhood and a small handful of years after Severus's defection from Faery, for the most part Keelyn was as calm and serene as any Queen could wish to be, more out of necessity than natural talent. Tonight, however, found her pacing the cold stone floor of Severus's dungeon chambers, wringing her hands and acting like the worst sort of shrinking violet. It was galling to a woman who could wield a sword and magic in equally deadly measure to find herself pining for a man, whether she loved him or not. She wondered with a brief flash of humour if Zane would remind her she needed a lesson in such humility once in a while.

His rooms, she noted, reflected his eclectic tastes as well as his almost militant need for order. Before when they had been lovers, when most of his things had migrated into her room in the Faery Court, he had always found it difficult to deal with her natural inclination toward disarray. They had found compromise in their shared love of dark, brooding, bold colors and heavy, old-fashioned furniture. Tonight she had already paced through a darkly paneled study where the walls were dominated by bookshelves and an elaborate, old-fashioned Muggle chemistry set held pride of place on a priceless antique sideboard, a candle-filled bathroom with a surprisingly spacious bathtub, and a bedroom dominated by a carved four-poster bed hung in heavy black drapes bearing the ancient symbol of the Snapes in silver. She had paused at the bed, running her hand lightly up one of the oversized posts, wondering if she could still tempt him to sin with her among the silk sheets. The thought had sent her whirling back into the outer living room with its scarlet-upholstered high-backed chairs, decadent black chaise lounge, weathered grey stone fireplace and priceless Persian carpets.

Forcing herself now to calm, to take a deep breath, she sank down onto the chaise, leaning back with a sigh as she conjured a fire in the hearth with a thought. She was more tired than she would admit and, promising herself to only rest a moment, she closed her eyes.

Hours later, bone-weary and tested beyond what little patience he possessed, Severus found her there, sprawled elegantly among the cushions, sleeping soundly, the fire she'd conjured still burning merrily. He paused for a moment in the doorway, his heart stuttering to a stop before it began to beat a hard, fast tattoo in his chest. She was so lovely, even with her glorious hair bound up in that ridiculous braid and wearing those strangely attractive Muggle garments. Severus wondered why he had wasted so many years denying that she was anything more than exactly what he wanted. What sort of path had his life might have taken if she had been by his side all of these years?

"I know it's like asking the sun to rise in the west, but stop brooding, Severus." Her voice, slurred, deliciously husky from sleep but still sharply amused, had his lips curving into their familiar smirk. Slamming the door and resetting the locking charms as second nature, Severus strode towards her as she stretched. Before she could do more than blink up at him owlishly, he had scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed no more than a small child.

"Severus!" She said it with a surprised gasp but a twinkle in her eye, her arms curling around his neck. "I'm not a girl any longer, to be swept off of my feet by the likes of you."

He raised a sardonic raven brow, his long strides carrying them past the fire, which she doused with an airy wave of her hand, and into his bedroom, where the candles lit in their wake. "I'm not sweeping you off of your feet, you impudent little baggage, I'm carrying you off to ravage you."

"Oh, well, that's different, then." She smiled softly up at him, her eyes gentle, dove-grey, holding a softness and affection he'd only dreamt of seeing. Feeling much younger than he had any right to feel, he tumbled them both down onto the bed, chuckling as they landed in a tangle of arms and legs and feelings. Though desire was a heavy, grinding ache in his belly, for long minutes the only sound in the room was the softness of their breathing and the ticking of the clock on the mantel as Severus simply held Keelyn, enjoying her softness and warmth so close.

Maneuvering them both so that she lay across his chest, Keelyn stroked his hair back from his face and nuzzled her nose into his neck, sighing softly in contentment. "Your hair is longer than it used to be."

"Mmmm. Do you like it shorter?"

"I just like you, Professor Snape, however horrifying that might seem to your students."

Severus chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his hands busy with untying her braid, spreading the heavy silk of her hair over them both. "Yes, you may find it difficult going with Potter, Granger and the Weasleys if they find you fraternizing with me."

"I think Harry has a grudging respect for you, after you relented enough to teach him Occlumency. Besides, from what I hear you aren't exactly the sweetest of professors, always sneering and being rather rude." Her face peeked up from his neck, her eyes suddenly gone seriously dark and a little afraid. "Severus, I've known for several years that you are now spy for Dumbledore rather than dutiful soldier in Voldemort's army. I think now Harry knows it, too. Do the others?"

While Severus was surprised that she knew about his efforts for the Order of the Phoenix, he was more touched by the very real concern in her voice. "Harry knows out of necessity rather than choice. I don't think he's told the others, simply because he has an awesome need to protect the people he cares about. He knows, just like I do, that it's … easier for all of us if my students hate and fear me."

Keelyn nodded, though she still looked troubled. "He asked you to bring me to him, didn't he?"

Severus sighed and nodded, smoothing his hands down the sleek, petite line of her back, snuggling her curves into him, enjoying the way she relaxed into him, a warm, living blanket.

"I'm not surprised. He asked me to join him, before, when he came to Faery. I was…tempted to put myself in your position, to say yes even as I kept my loyalties elsewhere."

"And yet you didn't."

Keelyn sighed and rolled away from him, staring up at the dark canopy of the bed with haunted eyes and clenched fists. "No. No, I couldn't put myself in the line of fire, knowing what I do of the prophecy, of my fate." She turned her head to look at him, despair crawling through her eyes, bleeding them to palest blue. "And now he's put me in the position of coming to him or placing you into danger."

Severus frowned and turned onto his side, his hand sliding out to cover her belly, anchoring them together. "Keelyn, I was in danger before I met you and I'll be in danger for the rest of my life, even if or when Voldemort falls, because so few know where my loyalty truly lies. I'm asking you to live with that, even as I live with the knowledge that some part of you must always belong more to Faery than it does to me."

"Sacrifice and honour, love and duty. They never can quite exist peacefully." Her smile was rueful even as she turned into him, aligning her body with his, her hands framing his face. "I love you, Severus, though it's true I could wish we were both more and less than we are. It's enough that we can accept each other."

A breath Severus hadn't known he'd been holding slid out and he pulled her closer, burying his face in her neck. It was Keelyn who, long minutes later, lifted sultry eyes to his and whispered, "Make love to me, Severus, now, as the sun rises outside. Make me believe, for this little time, that there's nothing more important than your breath on my skin, your words of love in my ear, and the feel of you moving inside of me."