APOLOGIES FIRST
I'm so sorry for the delay with this. Life sort of intervened. I wasn't even sure if I was going to come back to this at all. This discovery, this process of writing has led me to very interesting pastures…so I say, be careful of what you wish for…
Thank you especially Arachnes Child, for the terrific quote and for your support. Thank you for my wonderful friends who have always supported me…you know who you are…
Superwitch
General Warning: FROM HEREON IN, THERE IS A VEERING AWAY FROM CANON.
Chapter 30
From the Song of Solomon, 8:6.
Set me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death
A Seal Upon Thy Heart
The rest of the evening was a blur. There was endless talking in which she had no interest or if she had, was unable to make any contribution to the conversations. This made her unutterably tired. There was a moment when, as her eyes lingered on the dancers, he noticed and took her on the dance floor but the pain of his presence with the barrier of the mask made it impossible for her to enjoy it. Their bodies were fused and she leaned into him but their minds were apart. As he held her close, she caressed the front of his jacket but he was on guard and so was she, dancing stiffly with her head averted from his. So she could not see his eyes glowering at her but she could sense them and he said nothing while they whirled around other couples. His hand was the only thing that felt warm and familiar and she clung to it as a climber would to a rock. Later on she and Narcissa exchanged a few polite words, which was a comfort, even with the tension still in the air and the coldly disciplined mother, but with a desperate glint in her eye, explained that no one had informed them about the school. There was silence in the Daily Prophet: presumably the Ministry had managed to silence them somehow. Narcissa casually asked her where the children were and Elrin told her that as far as she knew, they were all were safe although their whereabouts was unknown. Three students had broken legs and an arm, but they were all Gryffindors. While she was talking to her, Elrin's own thoughts circled and crashed, circled and crashed in an effort to come to terms with what had happened and what might happen, but it seemed as if the world were folding round her ears, everyone's ears soon and she felt more alone than she had ever felt. She wished that she had Fawkes to speak to or Dumbledore, but they seemed a light years away. At one particular moment she thought he was going to make her dance with Lucius, as they were talking, but he did not and she nearly blushed with thankfulness when they eventually moved away from them.
Late they came to their rooms and by that time she was nearly dropping with fatigue. They entered freely, as there were no longer any guards outside the doors and she flung off her shoes. After placing his cloak away in the wardrobe, he summoned a goblet of brandy. As she pulled down her hair and took her jewellery off, he threw himself into a substantial chair with his drink. He exhaled in irritable style and glanced up at her, amusement in his scorning mouth, his finger rubbing around the rim of the goblet, his all-consuming eyes on her through the remaining mask. What so appalled her was that she was drawn to that figure in the chair, one leg nonchalant over the other, his lower leg swinging, despite or even because of his condition. His presence was intoxicating, and it pointed out her vulnerability with clarity. She was aware of his appraisal of her as she stood there and experienced the terrible desire to sink down before him on the floor, wanting to press her cheek to the buttoned trouser leg that swung there, to offer herself to him. He was watching her though he appeared to be concentrating on his drink. After a silence he spoke and his voice sent shudders down her spine.
'Approach me,' he demanded in his deliberate silky voice, swirling the brandy in the goblet. Surprised, she looked up and was forcibly reminded of his Death Eater status: a good part of his mask was still glittering in the candlelight, though it was gradually disappearing.
'Do I really need to repeat myself?' he said, unblinking. She remembered his warning about crossing him. Slowly she came towards him, but halted a little distance away.
'Remove your dress.'
'I'm not your plaything,' she snapped. His head jerked up at that, and the threat that came from him was palpable, and she felt the thrill of the electricity between them, jolts of invisible energy striking and coiling into her body. There was no damage from this intrusion, but the shuddering sensations shocked her by their intensity and had they gone on she would have passed out either from pleasure or from pain, she was not sure which. Deciding that it was best to co-operate, she undid her bodice at the back and prepared to wriggle the whole dress over her head, knowing that she was revealing her body bit by bit against the dark crimson material with her white thighs, belly and swinging breasts and then her arms for the pleasure of his gaze. His expression however, did not alter and he devoured the brandy and curled his long fingers sheltered by the white cuffs around the curves of the goblet. Impatiently, she threw the dress over a nearby chair.
What was she going to do now?She felt embarrassed standing there in her knickers and nothing else. After the evenings atrocities it felt like an unbearable frivolity, a violation and her heart banged against her ribs. There was silence in the room.
'What is it that I want you to do next?' he smirked, licking his finger from the sticky liquor. Her legs started to tremble, but not visibly: she could feel the nerves in them vibrating and between them the familiar gush of her bodies' heat. He knew that that gesture had an effect on her and it annoyed her that he was using that knowledge while remnants of the Death Eater paradigm shrouded him like darkness before the dawn. She preferred to feign ignorance as a protest.
'No, I don't know,' she said resentfully and tossed her hair in what she imagined was a careless and rebellious manner, to see him freeze for a second. It was only the fleetest of pauses and then he returned to his casual perusal of her semi-nakedness.
'Now remove your knickers,' he said indifferently. She hesitated.
Should she be doing this?
Lover though he was whose rings she wore with pride, she wavered. Her wedding ring was throbbing like an insistent heartbeat and her fingers sought the pain and tried to feel its' message. She aught not disobey him; he was still unpredictable, unstable.
'Do I have the impression that I am continuing to wait?' Slowly she caught hold of the tops of her knickers with both thumbs and thrust them down her legs and tossed them away in abandoned irritation. She had heard that nakedness around those who were clothed was a powerful feeling. She wished it were so. He was looking into the depths of his goblet.
Was he going to look? Was he trying to make her feel more uncomfortable than she did already? I have more pride than that, thank you. You can only push so far.
For some unknown reason, she had a flashed image of his outstretched form, prostrate before Voldemort, hands flat on the floor above his head, the blackness of his hair and robes spread out in submission.
She turned away.
'Do not turn your back on me, my lady,' he snarled softly. Her stomach sank to its' lowest depths and her buttocks clenched in fear.
A further thrill surged through her groin.
Would her body always betray her like this?
Had she not done enough for one evening?
'Bring yourself in front of me. You know that you want to, I can read it from here.' The pull of him made her heart wrench and her whole body wanted to respond. Only her mind fought against it. She didn't want to lie with him while he had the glitter round his eyes and he was under its' spell. There could also be the danger of inadvertently touching it.
'Are you afraid of me?' There was something in his voice that was different.
'Yes,' she said quickly facing him again, before she stammered.
'Nevertheless, approach me,' he insisted. The Death Eater state appeared to make them especially hungry. She remembered the overarching greediness of Lucius when he tried to devour her.
'I will not,' she breathed, standing her ground, proud and upright, and then turned, heart beating at her disobedience, aware of the movement of her breasts and the presentation to him of her backside as she walked away. His lip curled, with the mask almost gone, just lingering in the depths of his sockets.
'There is no harm here,' he said. She thought she detected in his voice a slightly softer tone and slowed.
Was he returning to himself?
Her throat tightened in hope and she wondered about what to do. After a few seconds pause, standing by the bathroom door, she came closer to him cautiously. She didn't know what to do with her hands.
Where did one put them when one was naked?
Self-consciously, she joined them in front of her.
'Put your hands down by your side,' he murmured quietly, his eyes making the blood quickening over her body in a great rush.
Heavens, she had made love with this man so many times and yet here she was like a virgin. He so enjoys sitting there, fully clothed, tight in his frockcoat, buttoned up to his neck, shielding his emotions as well as his body.
She, with nothing to hide but her thoughts and even they seemed naked in front of him, breathed shallowly, her arms exposing her body for him.
As his mask was diminishing, should she risk denying him?
Her body craved to seek his warmth, to lower herself onto him, to splay her thighs and lower her groin onto his legs tight in their black material, to touch his waiting chest, slip her hand into his hair and angle her head to kiss his luxurious mouth but her mind and her heart wanted to run, to escape the corruption of this terrible night.
It was wrong, wrong, wrong.
'Elrin, I….'
And she knew immediately that there had been a shift. His eyes burned but were no longer the forecourt of some hellish dimension and she saw a look of pain shoot across his brow. At that wavering of him, she clicked out of the trance she had been in and her mind's confusion tumbled out of their locked prison. He saw her change too, saw her retreat before she had moved physically, and fractionally learned forward.
'Come to me,' he whispered his voice hoarse with need. This plea struck her more forcibly than his assumed command of her and there was a second where she might have flung herself forward to him. Instead, freed, the bird of capture sped away to sanctuary. She did not stop to look at his face as she fled to the bathroom.
Closing the door with 'Alohum', she frantically ran the bath with the password. It was like the one at home.
Home. What a joke.
As soon as the sunken bath was deep enough, she hurled herself in as if she couldn't get closer to wholesomeness fast enough. The only thought in her head was to wash, and wash and scrub and rinse and scrub again, making her skin sore in the process. She threw in as many herbal potions as possible and shampooed her hair and did it again and again. Scrubbing her lips, she even put some potion in her mouth to cleanse it, which tasted horrible, but made her feel fractionally better.
Would she ever be clean again?
Her finger was torn and her hand was covered in blood where she had pressed it throughout the evening. Her other hand was swollen from her wedding ring.
He did not enter and she floated in the hot water, sick to the stomach. She didn't want him to come in. she wanted to stay there forever, and he to remain outside.
Had he done this Death Eater business too long and was not able to distinguish good from evil? Had he fooled her all along? Had she been duped into thinking that he truly cared? Had he married her… for her Sorcerer's abilities? She wanted him; oh how she wanted him…it didn't bear thinking about.
The evening had sunk her into the lowest possible abyss. She had witnessed one attempted suicide and one murder, an announcement of a forthcoming coup d'état and she had been made to – grovel was the only word – to the monster that was responsible. That had to be enough. She felt she had stretched so far for his sake and for the sake of what he was supposed to be doing, that she had reached her furthest limit and lying in the water, looking up at the decorated ceiling, felt that her mind had snapped. Many times she rewashed her hair and soaped her body, frantic to get out the stink of the horror out of it. The only satisfaction she remembered was Lucius' face when she told him about Xiomara. It looked like the bastard actually cared about her. Narcissa was a lonely figure. How she managed to be married to him was a mystery to her.
How long she stayed there she had no idea, but the water was womb-like and comforting and the silence blissful except for the thoughts screaming loud in her head and those eventually became weaker. Since there was no sense of night or day in that place, it didn't matter. After a while, exhausted, she drifted off to sleep, lying on the side of the pool, half in and half out of the water, her hair tangled and wet and her skin red with scraping it, blood from her hand seeping onto the floor. She didn't hear Severus come quietly in after quite some time and who, stripping off, waded in and lifted her out with the utmost care, holding her slippery limbs against him and her wet hair hanging loose over his shoulder. It took him a few moments to get a good purchase and she murmured as he moved her, though he couldn't hear what she said. Dripping, he took her out and laid her on the top of the bed and fetched soft towels and dried her raw pink skin with a gentleness and a respect that could generally only be seen while stirring dragonfly wings into his favourite cauldron.
He could have used his wand, but he didn't want to, until it came to her hair and decided it was the only effective way of drying it. He noticed her hands and searched for a potion in his pockets and spread some on, carefully and diligently circling his fingers on each of her fingers that had a power ring on it and then brought his lips down to kiss them both. Vaguely aware of him attending her, she murmured but could not protest or do anything but lie there, not even ashamed at her helpless nakedness and the calm hands over it. She could hear him as from a distance muttering his Latin while he tended her. After assuring himself of her sufficient dryness, he wrapped her in a silk sheet as if she were breakable and he were wrapping her in tissue paper. It was as if she were a child swaddled and pulling down her half of the bedclothes, enfolded her and she could feel his safety and his damp warmth as he lifted her. There was one thing she did manage to ask as he placed her onto the bed. 'Is it off now?'
'Yes,' he answered softly. 'Go to sleep,' then he arranged her hair comfortably, pushing stray hairs away from her frowning brow and was about to kiss her forehead when her eyes fluttered open for a second or two and closed again and he withdrew. She drifted into the cocoon of her mind until he climbed in the other side and was half-aware of his presence until she fell asleep beside him.
The next day aught to have been better, but it wasn't. It was frightening how little she felt about anything. She was numb, unseeing, lost. Assuring herself that the mask had evaporated or whatever it did, she noticed the darkness of his eyes watching her, but she did not want to meet them and they spent the next morning mostly in silence. When they had to speak it was as short as possible and about practicalities. There was no way that she could eat breakfast.
Food sent from the monster. She would not eat it.
Severus had to go out. 'I will return soon.'
Probably to see Him. What would he be plotting with him about now?
She said nothing, staring into a full cup of coffee and she was watching the skim on it.
'Elrin…' he started, moving towards her, then stopped at a quick but noticeable glare from beneath her hair.
'I will return,' he growled and swept out of the room.
As she did not dare to go out of it, she spent the day pacing the room, her thoughts circling and crashing, circling and crashing in an effort to come to terms with what had happened and what might happen, and it seemed as if the world were folding round her ears, and soon to be around everyone's ears. She felt more alone than she had ever been. She wished that she had Fawkes to speak to or Dumbledore, but they seemed a million light years away. The auric bond with Severus pulled at her savagely and her body felt the grief and pain of it as she pulled away from him.
When he returned in the evening, later even than she had expected or indeed he expected, the tension between them was at an all time high. He made to kiss her, but she turned away and her heart was ripped out. Her silence was ominous. When the food arrived they sat down at the small dining table at the far end of the room and as she stared at the food, he snapped, 'Eat.'
She was delighted to reply angrily, 'No.'
With a large intake of breath, he threw his napkin down. 'Damn you woman, eat.'
Glaring at him, she defied his orders. She had had enough of them. Her eyes glittered at him across the table. Afraid but with fury erupting from nowhere within her, breaking through the stupor like lava, she blurted out, 'If you'll pardon me, I've have had my fill of 'obedience'.
He studied her.
'I don't have to,' she glared, body tense, ready to defy, 'and I choose not to.' Cursing, he got up and reached for his wand and with a start, she wondered if he was going to curse her or bind her but instead he put a Silencing Charm on the door.
'So that is your problem.'
'My problem?' she yelped.
'It was essential for you to obey,' he said, looking at her steadily.
'I know it was, Mr. Death Eater… Mr. Great Potions Poisoner,' she cried. His head snapped up. If there were going to be anything that would hurt it would be that.
'Do you imagine I enjoyed that?'
'Well, maybe you did! It seemed to me that you and your kind...'
'And just what is my kind?' he whispered icily leaning forward, arm on the table and she knew she had gone too far. Her anticipation as to what he might do made her heart beat loud in her ears but she carried on regardless, indignant and blushing with anger.
'Your twisted 'friends', your….'
'Do you think your desires so important that they eclipse what needs to be done?' He growled silkily.
'It seems to me your desires appear to have prominence despite what needs to be done,' she retorted.
'My desires to kill an innocent Muggle for example?'
'Well, I didn't see you exactly squirm, there was no evidence of a scrap of conscience.'
'I should think not. I would be dead now and you with it and the Muggle to boot. Nothing would have been accomplished.'
'And what are we going to do?'
He was silent.
'You can't say, can you?' she provoked, eyes wide, angry. 'There is no way out of this.'
'We are at a precarious point, yes,' he admitted.
'Precarious? We are in a death-trap and our world and the further world too.'
Our world.
'We cannot afford to panic. That would be self-indulgence,' he said. 'There is more at stake here than your overweening pride. There is a whole world community that is depending on what we do here. We have no room for worrying about ourselves.'
'Not while you are top dog, no, you have nothing to worry about,' she cried.
'You will stop now,' he said, a threat in his voice.
'I will do no such thing,' she shouted.
'Elrin, I said – silence,' he roared, getting up. 'He will hear.'
'I thought you just put the Silencing Charm on,' she spat.
'It is not the volume. He has ways of hearing extreme emotion. Anger is his favourite. He feeds off it.'
Well, maybe he should hear'. She knew she was acting recklessly and the more she thought it, the worse she became. The memory of Voldemort's smug acceptance of her debasement enraged her beyond reason and he – he was responsible.
'You…you….made me….' She was speechless, so she picked up a plate of food and hurled him at it. Peas rocketed off him and the potatoes missed. She wasn't sure where the duck went. The plate didn't break but whirled on the floor then crashed down making a loud clatter, gravy on the floor.
Damned plates magicked for breakage. Wasn't there something she could break? She looked at him hungrily. If she could have…
Looking for a weapon, she tried a tall wine goblet, but her aim was pathetic, he just brushed it aside and it smashed against the wall. He just stood there.
At least it broke. He wasn't using his wand on her. Why wasn't he using his wand? Damn him. He just stands there.
'The swagger, the contempt, the hubris,' she shouted. 'I have never, ever seen such idiocy.'
That was a lie. She had, at home.
'The psychotic inhumanity….and you part of it!'
'Elrin,' he said, scowling, as he made his way to her, ducking her renewed frantic efforts with cutlery and vegetable dishes. There wasn't much in the room to throw. She eyed a large vase on the other side. He was close to her now and he grabbed her shoulders holding them steady. She beat his chest and his arms with her fists, furious at his strength, furious at his treatment of her, furious at herself, furious with Malfoy, furious at the stupid followers of someone she didn't even want to think about, furious with Xiomara, furious with Dumbledore, furious with her parents, furious with their loathsome friends, furious with the world. To add to her diminution of pride she realised that tears were flowing down her face and she was shouting 'How could you do that? How could you do that to me? I loathe you, I despise you, I detest you.' Words were tumbling out and she knew that she was not being fair, but it hurt, it hurt so badly she wanted someone to hurt for it.
He was pulling her towards him and she was trying to thump him in the chest but he waited until she had run out of insults. Her eyes must be red and swollen, and her face blotchy, but she didn't care. He enfolded her as she gradually clung to him as tears ran constantly down his front soaking his jacket with wet patches. It felt a weakness to cry and such a womanly thing to be doing after such an intense ordeal but she continued to weep, heaving and coughing against him. He held her until the tears lessened and stopped, silently enveloping her in his arms.
'I hate you' she gulped.
'Do you?' he asked silkily and she knew then that she was lost.
'How else could I feel after that? The insanity, the degradation, the horror of it all.'
'And how else are we to bring his downfall, but play him?'
'He was playing with us. We are not bringing his downfall, he is rising.'
'We will find a way.'
'I don't think we will. He's got all the cards,' she said, crushing herself against him, and he answered with his embrace and the kissing of her hair.
'Do you not realise that I have been through all this myself?' he said quietly, stroking her back. 'That I have thrown all this at myself.'
She felt ashamed.
'Many times. Many, many times.'
'You're different.'
He coughed a laugh. 'Am I? Do you believe me so unbreakable?'
She looked up at his beloved face and searched it. 'No. Yes. No. I don't know.'
'Well, that gives me plenty of options, doesn't it?' he smirked. His hand was rubbing warm circles on her shoulder blade. She wanted him to keep on doing it.
'I was – afraid…that …you….'
'Had…gone over to the other side?'
'Had….always been on the other side.'
He held her face with one hand. 'Let me read you,' and he looked into her swimming eyes and all she could see was his familiar potent-black eyes and his stony face scrutinizing her. It made her want to sink into him. Now, as he read, she realised that she could read him.
'I'm sorry,' she whispered.
'There is nothing to forgive,' he said, for the second time to her. 'Come to bed.'
'I…don't…'
'Come to bed,' he demanded softly. 'Do as you are told.'
She smiled and rubbed her hands over his arms.
'I don't want to…'
'We can just…lie there.'
'All right.'
Reluctantly allowing him to move out of her embrace, she watched him throw his shoes and frockcoat off and sat on the bed drawing her onto it. Lying there, they nestled close until eventually after an hour or so, they had some leftovers to eat that she had not thrown and then undressed and got into bed. She fell asleep almost immediately with his arms cradling her tightly.
Deep in the night she woke with a start. The sheets rustled as she slid her arm over to get closer to his body only to find it missing, her hand discovering that his side of the bed was flat and having little warmth under the covers. The empty night gripped her in its' jaws and she turned to search for him, cursing all the Voldemort's of the world and their lackeys, not expecting to see him there, only to notice him sitting silent in the same chair as the night before, his distinctive profile illuminated only by the flickering night candle, the rest of him lost in the gloom.
Shifting out of bed, she wound the silken sheet round her breasts and let it fall down round her ankles and as she tiptoed over to him, she could hear it shuffle behind her on the floor, her bare feet making no noise on the floor as he might have been asleep, his body rigid in the great old chair. How long had he been there? Dressed in his black silk dressing gown, he was part of the room, dark and ambiguous and as she approached him round to the front, his face was mostly in shadow. He was awake. He did not stir but his glazed eyes returned from somewhere else at her approach to calmly rest on her as she knelt on the floor between his legs. Remaining in silence and with a grim face, he spoke quietly and steadily in the darkness.
'I can never tell you how much I love you. You do strange things to me. You turn me upside down and my stomach twists whenever you look at me. I do not want to be weakened by loving you, yet here I am. When I believe I am weakened, you show me bravery and when I think I know where I am going, you turn me in another direction. I long for you and then when I do find you before me, I am confused. You break every barrier I have and I don't know how you do it. I am unyielding and yet there are times when I want everything for you. Often your face haunts me while I am working and your voice in my head wakes me at night. My focus and function is on serving justice against the Dark, but I am drawn to protecting and caring for you above all else. I am harsh because I have to be and yet for love of me you do my bidding and graciously too. There is nothing I can say that will truly express what it is that you do to me.'
He looked up as if he wanted to disassociate himself from that which he had spoken aloud. Proud and cautious, his caring lay hidden deep within his complexity as a bright bird of paradise hidden within the dark forests of his personality. Angry though he could be, cynical and brusque, the brightness remained constant for those who could see, and it had, for a while, stretched its' wings in her presence. She was in wonder at this miracle.
Stunned by his declaration, she searched his face. Putting her hands on his silk encased legs and as her heart filled, she lifted herself up and with one hand holding the sheet in place, kissed him on his part-opened lips. The tenderness of her kiss and the sweetness of his response drove spears of delight and desire through her whole body. She did it again, and again, her hair falling down over his chest and he accepted them reverently until he began to stir and their mouths fused together and slowly, slowly his body joined hers in a slow sensuous dance. Leaning as she was over him, trapping him in the chair as she had done in the restaurant, her knee on the chair nudging his groin, the sheet had started to unwind as so placed both of her hands on his shoulders for balance. It made him groan in her mouth and the vibration of it echoed in between her legs. The mysterious connections of the human body, the links of one end of it to the other, seemingly so far apart. He was the only one who had ever vibrated through her like this, he was the only one who left her breathless and gasping for more, he was the only one who drew her by simply waiting for her loyalty and her acquiescence to him.
Affecting dispassion he invisibly drew her towards him as surely as he had thrown Devil's Snare around her and his thumping heart told her that the triumph veiled within it was because he sought her surrender. Arrogance perhaps, but it spoke also of control and mastery as well as an unwillingness to overthrow her own will which he could do so easily with his own. Yesterday it had slipped its' bonds but now, back in control, he magnetized her with the fullness of his being, his desires shuddering under the weight of their need.
'You could have just said 'I love you,' she whispered mischievously, her breath hot in his ear. Smiling gleefully, she nibbled and sucked his ear, brushed his hair aside and observed the connection between that and the twitch of his growing hardness at his groin against her stomach. The sheet slipped and her breasts fell free over him and she craved for him to encompass them, her nipples hard with longing. The taste of his mouth and the scent of him overwhelmed her senses as always, and in her growing shortness of breath and urgent exploration of his mouth to find him, she pulled his dressing gown lapels apart and slid her hand onto his chest and caressed it slowly, feeling the fine and elegant hairs there in between his erect nipples matching hers as the material slipped further down. She moved so that her body rested on his, his mouth stopped moving and his breathing more intense. His hands left their moorings on the arms of the chair and placed themselves on her back, the sheet catching his thumbs. He brushed it away, and it fell to the floor so that it exposed the long indentation of her back, her hips and the curve of her bottom. His hands circled and rubbed her back until they gradually made their way south . Feeling the cooler air on her nakedness she grasped his hair roughly and planted her mouth again on his and her tongue was more urgent and his own pressed back, viper strong. The serpent was beginning to rouse. To greet him, she moved her other knee onto the other chair arm, her open groin against his stomach, and he groaned again, eyes closed, feeling her ardency, her willing flesh as he wanted his own being thrust into hers, in a sea of consummation and release. Slowly, he moved his hands in between them both and inserted his fingers into her stretched groin and in immediate longing, thrust against him instinctively, her mouth gasping against his cheek.
'Severus, I…..' and he shut her mouth with his own, swallowing her words and with his kiss, moving in rhythm to his fingers, sending her dizzy with abandonment. Rocking her quietly, her wetness lubricating his hand, his other hand grasping her buttocks towards him she could have expired at that moment and been content, her arms around his neck, hips seeking him, his tongue thrusting steadily, her body melting into oblivion, into his control, into his dark forest into the lair of the bright bird whose sharp beak faced her, bold and true.
And then he disappointed her as he gently pulled out of her. Wondering what was wrong, she jerked to examine his face, but it was expressionless.
'What's wrong?'
'Nothing.'
'There must be.'
'Rest, rest against me for a while. There is no hurry.'
'But – but –' Her desire almost at a peak, she couldn't believe he had stopped.
Was he tormenting her?
'Rest?' she squeaked indignantly. 'How can I…? You're getting off on this aren't you? Torturing me and enjoying it…'
'This is not about torturing you,' he said soberly and held her, pushing her chin onto his shoulders.
'Although…if it does…then….well.,' he said not without mischief in his voice. 'I consider it an added bonus.'
'You bastard!' she said, head up with an angry blush on her neck and shoulders, rising to her face.
'Ssshhh,' be quiet, rest.'
Her aching groin which spread its' necessity all over her body, needed release, she found it difficult to keep still, but she clung to him. She could not show her affection or whisper endearments, she could not bear to, but did as he said, half lying on him, breathing slower and feeling her body cool slightly and her urgency dull its' edges. For a while they remained there, steadying, he winding a tress of her hair and brushing it against his lips. She hid her face in his own hair and smelled the heady smell of it and slowly her body relaxed, though it was unsatisfied. She was wide-awake and in no mood for sleeping.
'I trust you are rested?'
'Not that I needed it, but yes, I am,' she replied sulkily.
'I found that bed rather oppressive for some unknown reason,' he said, staring at it.
'Oh, so do I. Is it magicked or something?'
'No, I do not believe so, but it may have entertained a transgression that is offensive to the human spirit, despite it's finery. More than likely, it has been affected by a whole miscellany of unpleasant offences. It might explain how easily Lucius came through to you. In fact this whole room is not – healthy. With his nose scanning the rooms, he spoke as if his own office was the outpost of paradise and this its' opposition, but against this sinister decadence, she knew his office to be an honourable, if not always comfortable haven of vocation and scholarship. She had not really looked at these rooms properly, had accepted it as her prison unthinkingly, her mind focussed only on him.
Suddenly, he rose, staring beyond the walls.
'Get dressed. Now. Quickly.'
Surprised, she was about to protest, when she saw the look on his face and her questions were immediately quelled. Throwing on her clothes, shaking a little at the urgency, she was more than a little disturbed by the ache in her for him. He completed his own dressing, not a clumsy rushing like hers, but a smooth and skilful event. As she was smoothing her hair into some kind of vague order, he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her towards the door.
'What's wrong?'
'Nothing's wrong. I just want to get out of here for a while. Come.'
Irritated that he was moving on a whim, but since her body desired so much to be glued to his, she followed. They made their way along the blackened corridors with the low night flames that shivered in their sconces and threw shadows onto dripping walls. The sound of their footsteps stalked them as they fled along the narrow passageways and rumblings and odd movements could be heard coming from under various doors. She did not wish to enquire after their nature and he just curved a lip, gripped her hand more tightly and jerked her swiftly away from them. He was pulling her strongly but not too fiercely, so she was just able to keep up against his long paces and was just grateful that she was with him and not alone in these oppressive corridors and tramping up long steps upward into gloomier and darker areas.
As they turned a particularly bleak corner, the light dimmed to almost nothing and they were just able to see each other as only a little more than shadows. He cursed and pulled back. Then she could hear somewhere in a nearby place, mutterings and foulness and the odd snatch of bleak laughter. It sounded like several male voices, probably guards she guessed.
Severus glanced at her and she did not miss the look and waited for him to speak, eyes wide in the dim light. Bending to her he muttered in her ear, 'I need you to go to them.' Before she could argue, her mouth already open to do so, he glared at her. 'I will be behind you.'
'Why?' and then fell to silence, as he was obviously not going to be forthcoming.
'What do you want me to do?' she asked just as they heard a thump accompanied the sounds of a quarrel which flared up, but which as quickly died down.
'Go out there and ask them for – ' and he used his wand to conjure an unlit torch, ' a light. I want you to distract them for a moment.'
'Then what?'
'Just do that.' When I indicate to you, move aside.'
'All right.' If you want me to.'
'I do.'
She listened to the grunts and the scraping movements beyond and gripped the torch hard, hesitated and with a final glance at him, moved around the turning as if she had come from some distance and was casually walking towards the guards. She did not see the quiet smile on her lover's face as he watched her go.
As she neared the guards, she could smell their pungency, and assumed they were not human. It was a heady sweat of neglect and corruption and their speech was almost intelligible, but she understood their place in evolution and it was not high.
When they discovered her in their midst, silence shattered their mutterings and they gaped at her appearance out of the darkness. In a low lamplight, she could see them grasping cards in their long claws, idling over a barrel between them, cigarette smoke swirling around five reptilian heads, all blinking at Elrin, black stubs hanging from lipless lips. No tail twitched. It was a scene frozen in time and she took advantage of it.
'Erm…excuse me. Have you got a light?' Her voice echoed falsely in her head and it seemed higher pitched than normal, a false gaiety plain for anyone to read. There was still silence, but then one of them, a heavyset guard with distinctive marked scales sneered.
'There is plenty in the sconces,' he said shortly.
'Oh yes, how silly of me,' she stammered, slippery with sweat, waving the torch in her hand. The guards looked interested while she stood there, busy eyes raking her up and down. One guard rose and lifted himself up to move beside her and as she noticing butterbeer stains down his uniform and was aware that his rankness poured out from him, he unsubtly sniffed her, which, made her red with embarrassment.
Where was he?
'So, why are you here all alone?' he asked, greed oozing from every reptilian pore, but cautious.
Why was she here?
'I – I got lost.'
Another guard got up, coming close, his crimson eyes wandering down the cleavage of her dress. The black stub in blackened claws he thrust into his slit of a mouth and he puffed his evil smoke over her face.
'Excuse me,' she said as she moved lightly round the two of them, breaking the invisible net of their surrounding of her; she lifted her torch towards a nearby sconce, which was smouldering dimly. Then awkwardly, she lifted herself on tiptoes to angle her torch within it and was aware of them surprised by her casual but easy movement of escape and then they shifted back around her, joined by their companions, cards forgotten. They made strong shadows as they crowded her in, effectively imprisoning her. She smiled desperately back; sweat pouring down her vertebrae, knowing that it made no difference to her fate written in their visceral expressions. She had lately seen worse and touched worse, yet these numbers frightened her, their absence of serious thought patterns, the stench of their dissipation and their greedy desire had her wanting to claw her way out.
Severus?
The one she took to be their leader moved in front of her and it was at that moment, she heard the deep voice of her rescuer.
'Good evening gentlemen,' drawled the Death Eater. His voice had a vibration to it like a whiplash of warning, issued through a veneer of dissolute culture. They immediately froze and slowly turned. The leader of the pack lifted his nose up and already has his weapon out in one swift movement from the leather of his wide belt. The others parted so that the two – man and creature could face one another. Severus smiled a twisted smile as they arranged themselves in opposition, derision stretching their warped faces. Severus was not wearing his Death Eater uniform, and they obviously had never seen him before. One sneer was met with five but Severus appeared to relax, enjoying the tension and she felt a rush of relief at the guard's attention being directed to more interesting entertainment: or an additional entertainment, before the dessert. She watched her lover standing steady and unconcerned, the inky shine of his hair and the deep shadow of his appearance not affecting the guards. As a group they were unimpressed, not fearful, merely intrigued at his appearance and righteous in their guardianship of their territory. This lack of fear and the unpredictable nature of them made her shudder as she felt her arm grasped and instinctively retreated, pulling at him. She should not have moved until Severus had said so, and was aware of the flick of his eyes towards her from his main opponent.
'Enjoying yourself gentlemen?' he said casually, eyes back on the leader who, his sneer of delight resting on the bloodless reptile. The tension dissipated instantly and she could feel them all relax, including the claws digging into her arm. At that instant he roared 'Down' then 'Stupify', his wand pointing at those remaining standing. Elrin had thrown herself to the floor – scratching herself out of the guard's hold on her and hit the cold stonework. A blast of blue shivering light crackled around them all and they fell instantly, the one beside her on top of her, his foetid smell and damp heaviness pressing annoyingly and intently against her. She fought the weight off as Severus yanked him and threw his body carelessly aside. Lifting her up, he investigated her scratch wound and gently held her arm while he murmured healing words.
'I told you not to move before I gave you the word. You deserve to have this as a reminder,' he growled as the skin gradually began to heal She sighed.
'I'm sorry. I was trying to be helpful. I knew you would blast them and want me out of the way.'
'How often have I to tell you to obey me in these matters?' A rush of blood to her face betrayed her embarrassment.
'If you won't tell me what you intend….'
'Do you trust me?' His face, deeply shadowed, bore down on her as if the darkness had asked the light it if trusted it. Something held in the balance and then she sank into the chasm that lay before her heart.
'Yes,' she whispered, shamed into answering.
'Then kindly do as I instruct you. I have your safety in mind always.'
She lowered her eyes, feeling his towering presence and the scrutiny that went with it and shivered.
She might as well have taken the Patriarchium.
'Not at all,' he replied, making her jump, 'You have the space for your choosing.
'Does it make any difference to you?' she asked, piqued.
'It makes all the difference in the world. That you should choose to trust me. What more could I ask for?'
Her skin was becoming whole and fresh, pain and reptilian blood leaving the site.
'Can you not feel the difference?' he asked quietly. Her heart pounded with the significance of it, her breathing ragged. Her upbringing, her reason, her walls all crumbled before him. Her body's response to him was so familiar now and she wanted to slide down into a state of joyful surrender.
'Yes,' she agreed, even more quietly. As the seconds ticked by the tension between them shivering like bolts until he quietly bent forward and kissed her on the lips, a swift beauty of a kiss, a respectful, gentle softness that had her thighs wet with her fluidic desire.
Severus however, turned and eyed the bodies scattered around them and muttered with his wand: 'Obliviate…'and then manifested a crate of butterbeer.
''That'll keep them busy.'
'Why,' she asked, 'why did you need that charade..why didn't you just blast them immediately?'
'They're notoriously difficult to curse which is why they make good guards. They needed to be relaxed. If we had come upon them cold, I would not have been able to overcome them. Come,' and he took her by the hand.
As they moved into further darkness, she asked 'What are they guarding?'
'Nothing much, just their corner of the castlerealm. But they were in my way.'
'To what?' she asked, but for reply he took her hand and led her away down further corridors and then a multitude of long steps upward.
Soon, she noticed a change in the quality of the air: a warmer and exhilarating softness that flowed towards them and it was not long before they burst out into the open air. It was like coming into another world altogether: a world of life and freedom, familiar and unfamiliar at he same time. Breathing deeply, they sucked in the scented night; while battlements surrounded them like sentinels stark and shadowed, while above them stars welcomed them with their high glitter. The day must have been hot and dry because it was sultry warm now and in the soft air, their souls relaxed. The sinister vibrations beneath their feet were fainter. He began to mutter with his wand and a luxurious silk carpet spread before them both at waist height. She managed to partly stifle a laugh, only to be silenced by his narrowed eyes.
'This is a humorous object?' he growled, eyebrow raised.
'Well, in our world, my world, not my world, oh dear, in my old world, yes. It's an object of magic in myths and children's dreams.'
He sneered. 'So much for your world.'
She looked at its' sleek beauty waving gently if it had some soft breeze over its surface and had to agree.
'Get on,' he murmured.
'What?' she cried. 'Are you….?' Fears of sailing above in a clear sky shook her composure. She had been relaxed, but now she was all ice and terror. A broomstick was bad enough, but at least you had something to cling onto. His steady look made her look again at the carpet, inviting but deceptive she felt. She might regret getting on. Elrin swallowed and looked at him, pleading, but there was no response. He spoke no more, just waited. Her breathing quickened and she absently chewed her lower lip. She remembered her agreement to do as he bid. This might be one time where she ducked out of it, but as she thought that, she found herself placing her shaking hands on the carpet. It was flexible, and seemed to respond to her touch like a friendly animal. Then before she could doubt herself and it, leaned out and rolled onto it and flattened herself onto the centre, face down, her skirt spread out, arms stretched out to try and make the least movement. Supposing the carpet just collapsed, like carpets would without a floor.
'Good girl,' he said softly and joined her but stood upright on it, feet astride her waist. She could feel him above her and it made her ill to think of him up there like that. One tip and he would be off. She naturally distrusted the flexible nature of carpets and pressed herself further into the pile.
'Turn around,' he said, 'face me,' and so slowly, carefully, in case she fell off, manoeuvred so that she lay supine and saw him way above, tall and confident. She wanted to close her eyes but was aware that there was something disturbing quivering through her. There was something profoundly exciting to be in this position, with him elevated and being nearer his shoes than his face. Astride he gazed down at her and she swore she saw elation flow across his face. Maybe it echoed her own.
She was not immediately aware of their elevation until she saw a tower slide quietly below and realised that they had slipped out of the immediate range of the castle and gasped, breathing quick and short, clinging to something that could not be clung to.
'You are safe'.
'I'm sure I am,' she agreed, shaking, 'but my body doesn't seem to know that.'
'Then look to me,' he said. 'Concentrate on me.'
She did, but then broke away, a stubborn streak of rebellion and curiosity made her look sideways and a little down and nearly shrieked with fear. Far, far below snaked glittering black rivers, jagged tops of high rock, black, black forests and misty plains far away. Closing her eyes, she froze, lying rigid, head swimming. It was totally different to riding a broomstick.
'Hold me please,' she begged.
'No,' he replied slowly. There was a pause, then said, 'I want you to undress.'
Her eyes flew open.
Was he crazy?
'Are you crazy?' She stuttered at him, almost forgetting her fear for at least two seconds. He remained motionless and dark, obliterating the stars behind him.
'Take your clothes off. All of them.'
The insanity of it shook her foundations.
'I can't,' she said, mumbling. 'I can't move. I'm terrified. Can't you see that?'
'I can,' he replied.
She was sure she heard something in his voice. A satisfaction she thought, or something like it.
Imaging things now.
'Keep your eyes on me, and you will be fine.'
'Fine?' she squeaked.
Was this his idea of a joke?
'This is not a jest,' he murmured, arms crossed, waiting.
Where was the love, the understanding, the gentleness?
The sultry air, even at this altitude invited her skin to respond and she felt a judder of anticipation. She detected a hint of pleasure creep over his face at her response. The pull from his desire was threatening to overwhelm her and she struggled with the desire to do as he demanded. It was seconds later that she found herself undoing her corset and slipping herself out of her long skirt, boots were shrugged off. The warm air kissed her and there was a heady freedom in it and a wantonness in stripping naked, lying her clothes close to her, not wanting them to fly off and leave her.
'Don't worry about them,' he said and then slowly, slowly, he knelt above her.
'I suppose,' she said, in an attempt to break the tension, 'you are not taking yours off?' Despite herself, the desire in her was heating up, her juices beginning to flow involuntarily and profusely. As he knelt, he felt where she was wet and grinned and it was not a soft grin.
'You take so long to do as I say,' was all he commented on.
'Tell me why we are here,' she continued.
He paused and as he made himself comfortable in pinning her to the carpet, he said, 'we need to escape the physicality of His Domain. We are more secure here since we have cut off the link. There is no monitoring then.'
'All right. But that doesn't explain why I am undressed and you aren't. '
'Because I wish it. For no other reason other than it pleases me. It is also unfinished business.'
She remembered how hot she had felt for him in their room. Now she was even hotter, but nervous too: quivering nervous and she could feel and hear her breath short and shallow. He appeared delighted, she could see, though his face was straight. As he gazed at her, she longed for him to cover her and lifted a hand out to pull him to her when he pulled away out of her reach a little.
'Put your arms over your head,' he growled instead.
Unsure at the change in his voice and his command, she did so. 'Hands together,' he added, watching her, his eyes raking her up and down. She felt her breasts rise to meet him slightly as she did so, yielding herself to him. Her cheeks burned.
'Now spread your legs wide. Wider still. Wider. As far as they will go.' She continued to stretch her legs out behind him and could feel cool air shocking her hot centre. She could not feel the edge of the carpet, but breathed nervously, aware of her vulnerability sharply expressing their own exposure at such a height, and with a thin piece of material between them and the air and the sinister darkness below, as if it waited predator-like for two falling bodies. A drop of sweat wound it's way down her temple into her hair, spread out around her like a halo. Liquid at the other end of her body was beginning to trickle down onto the carpet and she moved and moaned underneath him.
As he lifted himself up on his knees, he placed his fingers on her wetness and appeared satisfied with what he found. Quickly, he thrust several in and made her jump with pleasure and the by now familiar thrill of fear.
'Do NOT move your arms,' he snapped.
'Oh my…'
Almost immediately he plunged forward and thrust his tongue deep into her mouth to stop her speech. For a second she wondered if his mask had returned, but in opening her eyes, there was no sign of it. He noticed her looking as he pulled away.
'There is no need for you to fear. This is me, and me alone.'
Questions flashed over her face, but her hormones were in full rage and she just wanted him, regardless of his dominion over her – or even – she shivered – because of it. She breathed in quickly at the thought, her body spasmming in response. He noticed it and she could see by the glitter in his eyes as they echoed the stars above, that he was immersed in his observation of her state.
'Please….'
'Please what?' he murmured, close, very close. He continued to stimulate her so that she writhed. Helpless, but hotly aware that she might throw them both off; she controlled herself, only to start again, panting.
'You will not fall off.'
'You might,' she managed to gasp.
'I will not fall off. Keep your arms still. I will not tell you again.'
'Severus,' she pleaded, in agony now, wiggling her hips towards him, lifting up to encourage his fingers to go deeper, her body arching.
'Yes, my darling.'
'Please, this is torture.'
He removed his fingers and she wanted to scream.
'Lick my fingers.'
Sweat broke out on her forehead.
'You want me to? But that is…'
'Yes?'
'I…'
He remained impassive; his hand over her face so she leaned her head up a little to one of his fingers and tentatively licked it. She was going to vomit surely, but to her surprise, it was not unpleasant at all. Making a decision, she decided to make a brave show of it and holding his gaze, sucked and licked his fingers clean, even to his palm and instinctively kissed it. She felt his body jerk fractionally as she did so. She wanted to hold him, to put her hands on his heart, his hair, his face, his legs, everywhere to soak him in, to seek him, grasp him, cling to him, stroke and grip anything and everything she could. He was so near, yet so out of reach. Her seeking and wanting flushed in her eyes and on her skin. He loomed over her, a dark shadow of tormenting force of power and control.
'Do it…….enter me…… fuck me,' she begged, both ashamed and not caring what she said or did. 'I want you.'
The frame of his hair half hid his face as he bent down to her, his scent teasing her and mingling with the delight of the night air. There was a moment when she felt she did not care if they both exploded and fell to their deaths.
Instead he continued with his exploration of her body, teasing and tweaking her until she almost broke her arm position.
'Uh ah,' he reminded her, satisfying himself by stroking her belly and her thighs, everything but her sweet centre and erratically touching her until she wasn't sure what sensation she would receive next or where. It might be painful, a jolt or is might be a gentle caress or a kiss. Her thighs ached with wanting him and her legs juddered in response. She had her eyes closed, so she did not see his look of satisfaction and his interest in her responses. This went on for some time. It seemed endless to her and gradually she could bear no more.
'Sweetheart, would you please….fuck me or finish me off. Don't you want to fuck me?'
He grinned at that and slipped his fingers back into their hot home and almost sent her over the edge and then removed them again.
'You're evil and wicked!' she shouted, angry and desperate.
'I am,' he said. 'Had you not noticed?' he said as he wiped his fingers on her belly and breasts as if anointing her. Her panting was so strong that she was gulping in great draughts of air and he studied her for a moment. Afraid that he had stopped, she opened her eyes to stare straight into his. Like a cord they were joined in something disturbing and immeasurable. Both remained for what seemed like endless seconds. There was something in her core, her heart, her being, that dropped from a height. She felt it quite distinctly. She closed her eyes. It was if she had been holding onto life, holding onto hate, holding onto love, holding onto today and tomorrow, holding on to all barriers and weapons. All doors, all chains, all armour, teeth clenched, hanging on with fingernails, thoughts frozen, everything stopped in that instant as something inside her just yielded – as if her heart were a lift and it plummeted down a floor, an orgasmic shift of the heart and he had picked it up, had received it in the instant that she gave it and it washed through him and she opened her eyes at the same moment that he opened his and she could see that he had received the gift, had felt the shift, had felt her surrender and receiving it, stared at her in wondrous disbelief as if his world had righted itself, as if there were no other in the world so precious as this, of herself into his body and his heart and his soul. Then he moved, and moved fast as if he had been ready for this moment.
'Mine! he roared and thrust deeply into her. 'Mine…'
She cried out in joy and despair and hope and anguish and happiness as he slid deep within her and she almost threw him off the carpet in her ecstasy. It was if they were thrown amongst the stars, broken all walls before them and within them, reached a height that neither of them could have foreseen. The unity of them melded into heaven and it's highest peaks, broke through clouds and starry formations, sought the furnace of the earth's core and struck a chord that seemed to reverberate through the whole universe – as if it had cracked with tension and power, vulnerability spilling out from its' heart to flood everything living and non-living, the very molecules of matter. Perfect ending opposites that had flown apart were coming together, moving together, over and over, still whispering, streaming their way through the firmament.
Slowly, slowly, she could feel his essence surrounding her as they came back from wherever they had been, still floating on their carpet of desire. She could feel him as if he were in her skin, her organs, her mind, her soul. Gradually she felt a return, his body heavy on her and instead of feeling disenchantment at such a return to division and normality; she was dopey with bliss and her heart as wide as the world itself. Coming to, she felt him cradling her tight in his arms as if she might indeed fall or disappear.
'We could do with something to eat and drink,' he murmured after a while. She nodded fractionally, not able to move or speak yet. Slowly, he found his wand and conjured fat red strawberries; water still on them from a rain soaked field somewhere. He pressed one against her lips but she could hardly open them so he bit off a chunk and thrust his mouth on hers and placed it in with his tongue. She murmured her appreciation in her throat and then he ate some himself and continued feeding her with titbits until she opened her mouth wider and he fed her. Conjuring a pitcher of wine as well, he filled his mouth, and then gave it to her, letting it flow from him to her. She came to, blinking with glazed eyes.
'I adore you, my Lord,' she whispered, as if the secret might leek out into the night air.
'I know,' he said, and they both laughed, giggling like children and nearly did fall in their abandonment. They did not notice at first that they were moving and when they did, it was too late.
The carpet was shifting sideways, pulled: being returned to its' jump off pad. Guards with glistening pikes as well as a familiar figure stood waiting at the battlements as they approached. The emperor's robes stained the evening's purity and his face was dark and blotchy green with anger.
'Did you think that your little enjoyment would be undetected out there by me? You are very much mistaken Lord Snape,' Voldemort said softly, a greedy chill in his voice. 'I'd like a word with you both.'