Chapter Thirty
The Encounter
"Räénh."
The elf opened her eyes to the same darkness that shrouded them when her lids were closed. Her heart leapt into her throat as her chest rose and fell at a rapid speed. Everywhere she turned there was nothing but black. A sense of claustrophobia invaded her mind; she felt trapped in this obsidian pit.
She was blind. Shutting her eyes and re-opening them again, Reign hoped that the darkness would disappear. But her efforts were to no avail. The cloak smothered her still, and she began to panic. Darting across the vast world of black, she threw her arms out in front of her, grasping for any sign of hope. Her legs kicked furiously but because her surroundings never changed she felt as if she was running in place. Reign closed her eyes and pinched her arm as she ran, hoping that she was dreaming and that the pinch would wake her. Her eyes sprang open when she heard shrill laughter echoing through the void.
"You are not going to get away that easily." She stopped dead in her tracks, however few there were. Spinning around—or perhaps staying in place—she searched into the pit for the owner of that horrific tone. The elf shivered as the voice spoke her name. If it had been any other voice, she would have believed that it was Kor addressing her—but she knew this voice all too well.
From what she assumed was the ground, a figure rose a few feet from where she stood. She heard the soft swish of heavy fabric and saw the gentle wave of a cloak as it moved toward her. Her eyes widened in horror as the figure removed its hood to reveal a grotesque and familiar face.
The discolored pale face of Lord Voldemort floated in front of her, his blood red eyes burning her own, his thin, almost transparent lips curling up into a sinister smirk. She took one step back: he, one step forward.
"Why do you pursue me?" she asked with a voice not at all like her own. The creature's grin grew wider.
"You will find out soon enough," he said as he raised a hand to caress her cheek. His ice-cold fingers stung her warm skin, sending sharp pains throughout her body. But as they lingered, something else began to flow through her blood—a dark but sensual feeling. A feeling of power.
"Yes...you feel it, don't you? You feel the power that will be ours." Reign tore away from his touch and raised her hand—with surreal bravery—to strike the man before her. The Dark Lord laughed and took hold of her hair, pulling her face so close to his that she trembled under the influence of his hot breath against her own lips. "You cannot stop the inevitable, Reign. The darkness within you grows stronger with each beat of your heart. It will only be a matter of time before it consumes you." He reached down with his free hand and caressed the scar on her left wrist. "Beautiful craftsmanship, I must say. Couldn't have done it better myself." He laughed once more as Reign struggled to break free of his grasp. His fingers traced his mark upon her wrist, then they moved slowly up her arm and across her collarbone, to her neck and her cheek, and finally to her lips. Reign felt the power and the darkness once more, and she was forced to bite her trembling lips to keep them from falling off.
The darkness surrounding them never lifted once through their encounter. The only noticeable objects were the red eyes of the Dark Lord, which Reign watched as they scanned her face and smirked lustfully at her. They moved silently down her body, stopping at her side. His fingers followed his line of vision and rested upon her abdomen. Reign winced as his grip tightened around the first scar he left her. Voldemort leaned in and rested his cheek against hers, whispering in her ear.
"Until we meet again." He plunged his long fingernails into her vulnerable skin. Reign screamed as the pain consumed her, but it could not drown out the shrill laughter of the Dark Lord.
***
The elf sprang from her pillow, gasping for breath as her hand flew to her side. She doubled over as the area throbbed beneath her touch. Falling back onto the pillow, she wiped her cold sweat from her brow and assumed the fetal position. She squeezed her eyes tight and sobbed into the soft cushion.
Oh, poor little elf. Whatever is the matter?
She didn't answer. The tears poured freely from her eyes. She was crying so hard that every muscle had tightened in her body and she had stopped breathing.
Oh I know why you cry, little elf. You have realized that you really can't stop him from seeking you out...because you don't know what it is he's after.
The voice inside her head laughed hysterically at her anguish. She relaxed slightly in order to pound the pillow in her frustration.
So powerless, the voice sighed, perhaps you should have driven that arrow straight into your heart instead of your wrists. More shrill laughter rang inside her head as she lifted herself from her cushion, wincing as the pain in her side returned. Her hands flew to her hair and pulled at the strands. The laughter still resonated inside her troubled mind.
"I will not succumb to him," she whispered. The laughing grew even louder and more hysterical. "I will not lose," she said a little louder. She imagined the faceless voice would have tears in its eyes by now from the sound of its hideous giggles.
"I WILL NOT LOSE!" she screamed. Her voice echoed off the walls of her chambers and silenced the laughter. Reign looked around as her breathing slowly returned to normal. Her eyes stopped at the door to her office. After throwing the covers from her frozen body, she stumbled over to the door and threw it open.
Outside the stars were not to be seen. The elf frowned at the absence of their sparkle. Upon her shelves were rows of her own potions. She clumsily pushed them around until she found the sleeping potion she was looking for. The pale blue liquid beckoned to her as she removed the cork and lifted the vial to her lips. Almost immediately she began to feel its effects. Her entire body began to relax—the pain once immediate now dissipating. She turned around and fell back into the shelves. Vials and papers fell about her as if in a colorful and painless dream.
As she sank to the floor an object fell perfectly into her open palms. A tear fell silently down her cheek as her blurry vision recognized the small globe Severus had given her so many years ago.
***
Reign awoke in almost more pain than she had felt last night. She had fallen asleep on the cold wooden floor of her office, and it did nothing for her aching body. A long groan escaped her lips as she lifted herself from the floorboards and rubbed her neck. Below her lay the vial she had consumed the previous night, and next to it, the globe. The elf picked it up and stared at its contents as she leaned against the shelves. The sun poured through her windows and cast a heavenly light upon the object. Reign smiled as some of the leaves burst into flames, while others grew a crisp frost. Her fingers traced the glass as the flowers within it bloomed under their shadow.
"Truly remarkable," she whispered, repeating the description Severus had given the gift. She slowly and painfully lifted herself from the floor and placed the sphere on her desk. After dusting herself off and stretching, she replaced all the bottles that had fallen back onto their appropriate shelf. On her way out of her office she took the globe from her desk and placed it on her nightstand by her bed.
***
Her ears felt more sensitive than usual as she entered the Great Hall for breakfast. The room exploded with noise as she walked to her seat at the staff table. Harry waved as she passed by, but she failed to notice. She was too tired, too exhausted, and too hungry to acknowledge him.
There was no way, however, to avoid acknowledging Helena. Reign returned a weak smile to her friend as she sat next to her. Professor Saxon frowned at the sight of the elf; great bags sagged under her swollen eyes, her usual bright cheeks sank into her face, and the vibrant spark in her eyes was nowhere to be found. Before she could ask if Reign was all right, breakfast materialized onto their plates. Reign shakingly picked up her fork and knife. As she cut through her potatoes, her utensils slipped from her hands and clattered onto her plate.
"Reign, are you all right?" Helena asked from her side.
"Yes, yes...I'm fine," she said quickly as she reached for her goblet. She could feel her friend's eyes upon her and her anxiety grew. No longer could she control the convulsions in her hands, and they knocked her goblet over before she even knew their plan. Herbal tea flooded the table, soaking the tablecloth and everything upon it. Helena jumped back from the table to avoid being splashed by the drink. Reign watched as the dark liquid fell to the floor. Her whole body was now trembling as she sat in her seat. Most of the teachers and a few of the students were now staring curiously at her.
"Reign, what's wrong?" Helena demanded.
"I'm fine...I just had a rough night," came the automatic response. She raised her head to find both Albus and Severus coming toward her. The Headmaster was the first to reach her. His eyes grew wide as he surveyed her unnatural state.
"Reign, child, are you all right?" Reign clenched her fists.
"I'm fine," she said through gritted teeth. Severus appeared from behind Dumbledore. He drew his eyebrows together and leaned in to her.
"Reign--"
"I SAID I'M FINE!!!" she screamed. Silence followed her outburst as the entire Hall turned to stare in her direction. She gasped for breath as her eyes darted from the stern face of Severus, to the twinkling eyes of Albus, then to the concerned face of Helena, and the shocked faces of the student body, and finally back to the Potions Master. She fell into his arms, shaking uncontrollably and muttering into his robes.
"I'm fine...I'm fine..."
