queue the *It's happening people* gif here
I'm screaming internally and physically crying on the outside cause I am DRAMATIC
seriously you guys are the best. aways have been - always will be.
Epilogue: Five Years Later
Florence lays back on the grass, her legs hanging over the terrace and swinging like a child's as she tries to regain her breath. She was in perfectly fine physical form after their years of traveling, but there was something about the altitude that made her lungs scream and her head swim until she thought she might topple off the side of the mountain. Beside her Tom snorts at Florence's dramatics, his dark gaze glancing out over the horizon, water bottle clutched in his delicate grasp.
"I can't believe NoMaj's managed to hike up and down this all the time," Florence says after her head has stopped pounding, sitting up to observe the smooth, gray ruins beneath her.
"I offered to buy us a portkey," Tom reminds her, standing up and stretching before moving to seat himself behind her, his arms snaking around her waist and his face burying itself in her neck. Florence flushes.
"I wanted to hike up," she reminds him. "It's one of the only civilizations where magical and non-magical people coexisted peacefully together, and I thought it would be beneficial to see how the NoMaj's managed to live here."
"I can't say I picked up any insight from our hike," Tom mutters into her skin, his lips latching onto her shoulder and sucking with such force that she has no doubt it will leave a mark. Florence elbows him, and Tom grunts, the sound morphing into a dark chuckle before her returns his lips to her neck.
"Our guide will be back any moment," Florence hisses, hating the way her body was responding to him with so little prompting. You'd think you would be used to it.
"No," Tom murmurs, and his voice is deeper still. "He won't. I slipped him a sleeping draught in his water at lunch."
"Tom!" Florence chastises even as she rolls her head to the side, giving him better access to her skin.
"He's a wizard, Florence. He'll be fine."
Florence sighs her distaste, but Tom was unchangeable in some ways – this she had come to accept. Turning her face to his, she presses her hand to his jaw and pulls his lips against hers briefly, relishing in the tingle of magic that still moves between their forms.
"What should we do with all of this unexpected time," Tom leers when they pull apart, and Florence rolls her eyes.
"You're insatiable."
"Yes," Tom agrees readily, his hands sliding under her shirt where they move across the plane of her stomach, his touch as light as a feather. Florence's head falls back upon his shoulder, her eyes flickering closed as she feels one delicate fingered hand slide beneath the waistband of her pants.
"So where to text," he whispers, his breath warm against her ear as his hand sets to work, Florence's legs falling open, helpless to his touch.
"I thought," she pants, her back arching as he slides into her, motions slow and deft and teasing. "That we might go home – to the Lodge."
"Is that so?" He murmurs, and his voice is a sin. Florence bites back a moan, her hand coming to rest upon his thigh as the heat in her stomach builds.
"I'm t-t-tired," she stutters. "And I'd like to regroup."
Tom does not answer, but a moment later his speed increases until Florence is finishing in a flash of blinding white, his name a whisper upon her lips that is carried away by the wind.
"I would also like to regroup," Tom agrees, pulling his hand from her pants as if nothing has happened.
"I've made a list of plants we've come across on our trip that I'd like to add to the conservatory, perhaps we could work on that?" She poses, allowing her eyes to move across the mountain filled skyline before them. Tom's body is warm against her back, strong and narrow and familiar. "That is, if you don't mind me adding too it."
"The conservatory is yours, Florence. Do what you will with it."
"Ours," she counters, taking his hands in hers and wrapping his arms once more around her waist.
They sit in silence for some time after that, Florence nearly falling into slumber on several occasions, lured into a sense of calm by the familiar thrill of Tom's magic, the arms entangled with her own, but each time she feels the hum of the earth and the song of the peoples who had once resided there, and her eyes flicker open anew, observing the ruins before them.
They had been traveling across North, Central, and South America for the past few years, investigating ancient sites of the native wizarding peoples in each area. It had lead them far and wide, revealing to them magic as they had never known it, land that sang with enchantment deeper than even Hogwarts or the MACUSA Capital. Florence had suggested it to Tom only a few months after he'd given her the Conservatory, her desire for magical knowledge awakened by him, desperate to learn more about the people who had shaped the land. Tom had agreed at once – he alone had ever understood her hunger for magical knowledge, to be more than the abilities she was born with.
"You know," Florence muses, watching as a pair of NoMaj's move through the ruins. "I once suggested to Forsythe that we elope here."
"To Machu Picchu?" Tom asks, somewhat surprised. Florence laughs, hands tightening around his.
"No, to Peru," she explains. "Planning a wedding is a dreadful business. Count yourself lucky you weren't there to be harassed by my mother."
"And I assume Forsythe turned down this idea?"
"He said he didn't want to be murdered by Tallulah for ruining her plans for our wedding." Behind her Tom lets out a small laugh, his head twisting so that he can press another kiss to her lips.
"Well," Tom murmurs, and at once Florence is aware of the strange echo in his voice. One of his hands leaves her waist, and she hears it rummaging through his bag. "Forsythe may not have been keen on the idea, but I've been searching for a place to give you this, and here seems as good a place as any."
Tom's hand returns and with it is a small, blue velvet box, lid upturned to reveal a large, ovular diamond set onto a silver band. Each facet seemed to glisten in the afternoon sun, its beauty only aided by the backdrop. Florence feels herself stiffen, the hand still holding his squeezing the life slowly from his fingers.
"I no longer wish for marriage," Tom admits. "I have grown too fond of you name as it is – Florence Allman." He whispers her name into her ear, and every cell in her body responds as if he has just uttered a spell. "But it would be dishonest of me not to say that the idea of you wearing my symbol upon your skin leaves me as breathless as it did when we were eighteen."
"And this ring is only a ring? There isn't a piece of your soul in it?" Florence whispers, her voice meant to be teasing, but she cannot draw in enough air for her tone to come across so.
"No, only a ring."
"Will you put it on me?" She asks.
"Of course."
Tom plucks the ring from the case with sure movements, his hand warm as he slides it down over her knuckle, the ring adjusting to fit her, resting silver against the gold of Forsythe's wedding band. Florence stares at the stone for some time, flexing her fingers to see how the diamond shone in the light.
"If I get you one, silver to match mine, would you wear it?"
She turns to look at him, amazed still that anyone could be so beautiful. That she could be seated at one of the magical and NoMaj wonders of the world and yet be struck breathless by Tom Riddle. That they could have built a life together from ashes, nurturing something new and enchanting into being.
Tom does not answer, but his face breaks out into a smile, luminescent and golden and the only answer that Florence needs.
The End
Well, we have reached the end, and for the first time ever I'm pre-writing my Author's Note because I want to make sure that I get my words correct.
Without getting into it, I think we can all agree that 2020 has been a difficult year. It has been a difficult time in general to be a human and to be alive, and I personally have struggled this year in ways that often left me at my lowest level. Despite these challenges, I can safely say that writing this story has never been a part of one of my 2020 lows. In fact, it has been a rare highlight, a way for me to be distracted from my often corrosive worries and to feel connected to my creative side. Remembering beauty through Florence, while sounding cliché, has been such a gift for me during these days, and I will miss her immensely.
But, it would be grossly dishonest of me if I did not admit that the best part of this process has been connecting with you: my readers. Fanfiction is so unique because it brings people across the world together to share a story, and its chapter by chapter format means that I can receive immediate feedback from you! I've written other things before, but never in my life have I had such loyal followership. I truly don't even know where to begin or how to express what your support as readers throughout this tale has meant to me as a writer, and more importantly, to me as a person living in 2020. Your praises lifted me to my highest of highs, and your constructive criticisms made me want to be a better writer. I genuinely leave my tabs open, refreshing to see your thoughts. I am touched to the deepest part of my being that so many of you have taken the time to comment over the months, to share your thoughts, to analyze my characters and my writing, and just to be overall kind people! The follows, the favorites, even the quick "nice chapters" were the most motivating, incredible feedback, and I hope that you all know that each of you has changed my life for the better: I'm coming out of this a more confident writer, and I'm enormously happy to have written this story. Thank you all for just being you!
7 months and over 300,000 words. I probably needed a muzzle to cut back some, but in the end I'm pleased with the finished product, and a bit crushed to leave it behind. Some of you incredible people have asked what I have in store next, and to be frank – no idea! I might try and actually write a novel (smash the panic button) but maybe I'll be writing another fic in a week. The world moventh in mysterious ways.
I would love to know your thoughts here at the end, whether you've commented a thousand time before or this is your first, I never tire of reading them, and as I hope I've made clear above, they mean the world to me. Thank you endlessly for the comments that kept me going, the community around Limited brings tears to my eyes when I think about it!
If you come to this story ten years later, please know that I'll probably still be keeping my tabs open looking for your comments, so feel free to let me know you're here. Yes I'm that vain, but also yes, your thoughts really do mean that much to me.
Everyone please stay safe, keep your head up, and feel free to send me a private message whether it's now or years into the future! Xx Adslady
P.S. here is the rest of the playlist:
14. I Hope It's You - Rusty Clanton
15. River - Leon Bridges
16. Holy Lover - Keaton Henson
17. Oblivion - Bastille
18. July (ft. Leon Bridges) - Noah Cyrus
19. Don't Wanna Be Your Girl - Wet
20. Helplessly Hoping (2005 Remastered) - Crosby, Stills & Nash
21. Dirty AF1s - Alexander 23
22. Don't Think Twice, It's All Right - Bob Dylan
23. It's Not the Same Anymore - Rex Orange County
24. Do Friends Fall in Love - Rachel & Vilray
25. Starting Over - Chris Stapleton
26. Still Crazy After All These Years (Jim Eno Sessions) - SOHN
