Chapter 29:
Introspection
Alex
I had expected to find Bran waiting with an assessing gaze and an irreverent smile; confident that his plan had worked, but still wary enough to have a cautious look. I had expected there to be a sharp undercurrent of power; expertly controlled, yet ready to be released at the slightest provocation.
"I pushed jump! That means you jump! It doesn't mean 'fall down the bottomless hole!'" Bran muttered, sounding very annoyed. His eyes focused on the screen.
I admit I had not expected him to be playing a Game Boy.
"This is the Marrok? The great leader of Werewolves? One of the great powers?" Dragon sniffed disdainfully. "We are not impressed."
For a moment I was at a loss at how I could hear her, but then I remembered that she could now tap into my senses. Commenting on what she saw was probably not that difficult.
And the Royal we? Really?
"Precisely," Dragon said, her attention still on Bran. Completely ignoring my question. "He's a leader, where's his dignity?"
Dignity? Really, miss sashay, do you have any room to talk?
"Letting my guard down and relaxing around you and Wolf is a far cry from…this! I am you and you are me and we are Wolf and she is us. Three sides of the same whole. Being ourselves around each other is right," Dragon said. "But to him we are either a potential enemy, a potential pack member, or an ally. For any of those he should be greeting us as The Marrok. Ruler of the Wolves and supernatural power house. Not this irreverent façade!"
Remember, to him we are a mostly normal eleven year old girl. One who has just gone through an exceedingly traumatic experience. You don't greet traumatized eleven year olds as The Marrok. Not unless you feel like traumatizing them even more. No, this is a great way for him to put my fears at ease and show himself as relatable.
It's actually quite calculating if you think about it.
"…I suppose," Dragon said before pulling back a little. I could still feel her there but more as an observer than as a participant.
I shook my head. This was going to take some getting used to.
"How are you feeling, Alex?" Bran asked, finally looking up from his Game Boy.
"Good," I said. "Mr...?" I wasn't supposed to know his name yet, after all.
"That's right I haven't told you my name yet, have I?" Bran smiled. "Please call me Bran."
I nodded. "Alright Mr. Bran." I had no idea why The Marrok was taking the time to help me. Even with my status as the Girl-Who-Lived, I was nowhere near important enough to rate a personal visit.
Unless of course he was already here checking on his new pack? If so that would make sense. As far as I knew the Jensens' pack are the first pack in all of Great Britain to answer to The Marrok. And given the Wizengamot's notorious bigotry towards Tierwechslers…
I nodded to myself. Yes, that made sense.
"Alex, are you sure you're feeling ok?" Bran asked, looking concerned. "Is your wolf trying to take over?"
"No!" I said quickly. The chances of him deciding to hurt me, let alone kill me, were nearly zero. If I lost control and Wolf came out and started killing people he would be forced to act. "No, I was just thinking."
"Good, that's good." Bran sighed and powered off the Game Boy, before sliding it into his shirt pocket. "I know that it's been a difficult day, but there are some things we need to go over before you can go to bed, alright?"
I nodded, stifling a yawn. I hadn't even felt tired until he said that.
"Ok," Bran said, a sober mien coming over him. "Usually we would have this discussion with your aunt and uncle present, and make no mistake, they will be included later. But for now, I am reliably informed that you are very mature for your age. So I need you to take this seriously."
"Yes sir," I said. The air itself seemed to gain weight as he focused on me.
"When you used the Hexenwolf talisman to save your family, it left a mark. One that is not going away. Your wolf will be with you for the rest of your life. It is extremely important that you never lose control like you did earlier. Is that understood?" The Marrok's eyes drilled into me until I responded with a small nod.
Bran sighed and leaned back slightly. "I'm not saying this to scare you, but it is very important that your wolf doesn't take control from you. Especially when people are around."
"Yes sir, I understand," I said, softly. For all that I was sure that he wouldn't hurt me, it was all I could do to talk.
"Do you understand why?" Bran asked, still intense but not as much as before.
"Wolf doesn't understand that you shouldn't hurt people. She just wants to hunt and protect our pack," I said, for the first time in a long time feeling as young as I looked. "She doesn't care who gets hurt as long as the pack's safe." If Wolf had taken control anywhere else, if Bran hadn't stopped her, the body count would have been…enormous.
"Exactly. Which is why we're going to help you learn control," Rachel said. I twisted around to see her standing by the door. She smiled at me before walking over and pulling me into a hug. I blinked, we weren't that close but I must have looked like I needed a hug. She pulled back and looked me in the eye. "You aren't alone. We understand what you're going through and we will help you. But for now, let's go to sleep."
888
I pulled the blanket over me as I turned over trying, and failing, to fall asleep. Despite how comfortable the bed was, my brain just wouldn't turn off. I had been laying in one of the Jensens' guest rooms for over an hour and I was no closer to sleep than when I first laid down.
I had wanted to just get to sleep. I was exhausted, but my mind kept going in circles. If I wanted any sleep tonight I'd need to meditate. I sighed before sitting up, crossing my legs, and closing my eyes.
Breath. Focus. Sense.
My family had nearly died.
Again.
Unacceptable. Two attempts on my life had nearly killed my family. I clenched my fists so tightly that I nearly drew blood. If—no, when I finally got my hands on Bellatrix I would have to come up with something inventive to stop future attempts on my life from including my family.
Exactly how hard would it be to get my hands on a Dementor? The technically still living body of Bellatrix Lestrange would go a long way to deter my enemies. And even if it didn't, if I repeated it enough times I'm sure even Voldemort would hesitate.
Breath. Focus. Sense.
I deliberately relaxed my fists and sighed. As pleasant as that thought is, it was impractical for a number of reasons. Not the least of which was getting a Dementor away from Azkaban and keeping it safely contained being beyond me at the moment. That, and feeding the souls of my enemies to Dementors crossed a line that I didn't want to even contemplate. No, if I wanted to protect my family I would have to focus on getting stronger.
Getting stronger had always been part of the plan. It was why I had decided to try for Ravenclaw. It was why I had accepted Pansy as easily as I did. It was why I deliberately sought out Hermione on the Express. True, we're good friends now, but that didn't make my initial reasons for befriending them any better.
Even now, Hermione was worth her weight in gold. She had already faced down Voldemort himself. At the ripe young age of twelve she had faced one of the most potent Dark Lords to ever walk the earth, and told him off.
All to protect her friends.
You couldn't buy loyalty like that. Add a few years of Pansy's training and some actual experience and she would truly be a sight to behold.
And Pansy? Even ignoring the physical asset she represented—I mean, I wouldn't be half the fighter I am without her training—Pansy is the heir to the Parkinson family. The Parkinsons are one of the oldest wanded families in Britain and one of the darkest. Her name would open doors that I could never open on my own.
Breath. Focus. Sense.
I was proud of the choices I had made when picking my friends, but I had to admit to more than a little guilt as well. Friends shouldn't be picked based on their usefulness. But it's not like I really had a choice in the matter, did I? Voldemort wanted me dead. Whatever hopes I had had of finding a peaceful resolution between the two of us had died a painful death during our last confrontation, and because Voldemort wanted me dead any friend I made became a target, which meant that my friends needed to be able to defend themselves.
I sighed. My reasons for befriending them aside, I am their friend. Our relationship was no less real because I got something aside from simple companionship from it.
Breath. Focus. Sense.
I frowned as my thoughts turned to the newest wrinkle in my life.
Wolf and Dragon.
I had no idea what to think when it came to them. On one hand they offered power, power that I would certainly need in the future. And best of all, despite my fears I honestly didn't think they would tamper with my mind. On the other hand they weren't content to simply stay in our mindscape, which meant that they would need to use my body, and that is something I have a problem with.
I like to think of myself as fairly easygoing, but sharing control of my body? That's not something that anybody would do lightly. For all that I could feel our kinship, for all that we are three side of the same person, the thought of simply giving up control like that sent my pulse into overdrive.
(A thought came to me then. A thought that, if I had followed through with it, would have completely changed the course of events. A change that, looking back, would have ended my war with Voldemort before it could have even gotten started.)
The thing was I didn't really have to give up control, did I? I didn't have nearly enough magic for Dragon to survive if she took control, and the main reason I lost to Wolf was because of surprise. If I played my cards right I just had to stay in control long enough to get to a master Legilimens. Snape, for example. With how completely besotted he still was with Mom he would trip over himself at the opportunity to help me.
I could see it now. I activate my portkey and, when Snape comes running into Dumbledore's office, I start bawling. Talking about the 'monsters' in my head. He would be ruthless. He'd completely destroy all traces of them in my mind. I would never have to worry about giving up control of my body.
My hand drifted towards my portkey as I contemplated that thought.
It would be painful—certainly ripping them out of my psyche would be difficult—but definitely doable. All I had to do was say the word and I would be whisked away to do just that. I opened my mouth, but found myself unable to say the word.
I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill them when they were just animals and I certainly couldn't kill them now that they're actual people. It just wouldn't be right.
I had already killed to protect my family. If I needed to I would kill again, but murdering two—innocents wasn't the right word but it would work—was not something I was willing to do.
Breath. Focus. Sense.
My body laid back down as I turned my senses inward, a smile tugging at my lips.
"Hey girls, can we sleep together tonight?"
…..
AN: So early chapter this week, sadly it's still not as long as I would like it to be but sadly school must come first.
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