A million thoughts seemed to swirl in Fiddler's mind.
It can't be, she's dead, he killed her, oh my God, he's bigamous, shut up, Fiddler, not a thing to be worried about just now, you know he killed her, you saw it, oh, god, she'll kill me, oh, dear, the babies, FIDDLER, GET A GRIP, and shut your mouth, you look stupid—
"Are you awake?" Wynn asked, gently.
Despite herself, Fiddler nodded.
"You—you—", she said, hoarsely. Her throat was dry.
"Do you feel all right?"
Fiddler looked at her in open disbelief.
"What?"
"My question was fairly simple. Do you feel all right?"
Fiddler felt outraged at the gentle tone she used. As if she was talking to a child.
"So will be my answer", she responded, in her best I-am-Severus-Snape's-Wife-now tone. "It is none of your business".
Surprisingly, Wynn laughed kindly, and smoothed away a tendril of Fiddler's hair.
"I now see why he married you", she smiled.
It took Fiddler a conscious effort to keep her jaw from dropping, making it easier to overlook the derisive way in which she'd said the word "now".
"You know… And you… You…"
"We all know about it", Wynn accepted. "Lucius saw fit to inform us".
Fiddler didn't reply. She closed her eyes in pain, thinking bitterly that despite there were no broken bones, her body still was a throbbing agony. She curled over herself and bit back her tears.
Oh, no, she most definitely won't see you cry, lass.
Damn right.
She was startled to feel a hand on her shoulder, in tentative comfort.
"It is all right, Fiddler", she heard Wynn say, and her eyes widened helplessly.
"Wynn—" she began, but was interrupted by the other woman's musical laughter. She seemed heartily amused.
"Oh, I am not her! Is that what your wariness is about?"
Fiddler ignored her last comment.
"But you look… Just like her…" she mumbled, feeling weaker and more confused by the minute.
"That I grant you. It has earned me Voldemort's utmost respect… for whatever that's worth. I'm Briallan Ludlow, Wynn's younger sister".
Unbelievably, she extended her hand; and what was most extraordinary, Fiddler took it hesitantly.
Briallan seemed concerned.
"You're cold as ice", she said and took out her wand to cast a warming spell, Fiddler wincing helplessly as if fearing she'd curse her.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked, curiosity getting the best of her.
"It's a long story", Briallan replied somewhat sadly. "I want to help you and we'll leave it at that".
Yes, she was undoubtedly Wynn's sister.
Fiddler was offered a cup of tea and her face was gently cleaned and Briallan's wand touched to her wounds, only leaving a dulled pain behind. She was then wrapped in a warm blanket. Briallan's hand brushed her belly for half a second, but it was enough to bring bright tears to her ocean eyes.
"You loved him as well, didn't you? Lucas, I mean", Fiddler said, and watched Briallan jump.
"Severus told you about him?" she sounded astounded.
"Yes… sort of", Fiddler thought it better not to speak of her abilities.
Briallan sighed.
"He was such a joy", she said, evocatively. Her eyes shone suddenly.
"How old were you?"
"Seven. Wynn was my idol… How could she not be?", Briallan spoke bitterly. "She was everything Father and Mother always wished us to be. I— was not. And Severus… Well, he was always kind to me. As kind as a man of his nature could be. He seemed amused at my— intelligence… and predisposition for Potionmaking. But that ran in the family…"
Fiddler smiled despite herself. She was beginning to like Briallan.
"How long have you been married to him?" she asked quite suddenly, changing the subject.
"Exactly seven weeks".
Briallan raised an eyebrow in somewhat mocking appreciation.
"That was precise".
"Well… we got Handfasted when I was twenty weeks along, and I am twenty-seven now".
"Ah! Handfasted? That must have been different from what he— knew."
Fiddler remembered the dark ritual in which Severus had married Wynn and shivered. She noticed Briallan's eyes on her, examining her outfit thoughtfully, and then heard her say, apparently without thinking:
"I never thought I'd see the day when a Pureblood Slytherin would marry a Muggle".
Fiddler detected the question hidden in the careless comment, and decided not to take the also implied insult.
"Well, you're young. You'll see that each day you can learn something new".
Briallan's eyes widened, as she wasn't expecting that answer.
"Oh, and as for the Muggle part, I don't know what is it between you and them, but if it matters that much to you, I'll have you know I am not a Muggle", she spoke lightly, as if talking about the weather, and that stung Briallan.
"But… your clothes…"
"Never judge a book by the cover", Fiddler said. "But I understand that you're confused. The truth is I was brought up as a Muggle. In fact, I am a doctor, which would be a Healer in your magic world… and actually, I am a Half-breed".
Briallan raised an eyebrow again, half inquiring and half surprised.
"So that is why the Lord wants you".
"I guess." Fiddler didn't elaborate, as she knew Briallan was expecting her to. She remained silent for a while and then asked, not knowing if she really expected a straight answer: "So are you with him or against him?"
Briallan surveyed her, apparently lost in thought.
"That would be hard to say. I grew up among Dark Wizards and I didn't know anything else for a long time… I had the memory of what Wynn did to Lucas buried deep down… She was praised beyond belief for her… sacrifice, and that was all that remained…"
She looked away, as if she couldn't stand the memory.
"Did you see it?"
"Yes. Saw it from my window. I saw everything. I— had known all along what she did to him… I was the one who told Severus about it. Wynn didn't talk to me for months… Severus left that very night, and remained in Hogwarts ever since. We were never able to find the place where he buried Lucas… He must have Unplotted it well".
"Don't tell me you wanted to bury Wynn next to him".
"She was his mother", Briallan said repressively.
"She murdered him".
Briallan didn't reply to that.
"So Severus really left our ranks?" it was more a question than a statement and Fiddler read through it, hence keeping her answer. "It is all right, you know. I do not belong with them either".
"Yes, and still suck my thumb".
You actually do, Fiddler, her mind told her.
Shut up.
"I understand that you're wary", Briallan was saying. "I would be. But you have my word. And the word of a Ludlow is not to be despised".
Fiddler raised an eyebrow in her trademark irony.
"I'll save my comments".
Startlingly enough, Briallan laughed.
"You're so much like him".
"I guess that's a compliment?"
"See? There you go again!"
This time, Fiddler mirrored her smile.
Briallan shook her head slightly and her eyes blurred evocatively, and Fiddler saw suddenly a seven-year-old Briallan gathering herbs guarded by the Full moon… She was immensely proud that she had been granted the honour of acquiring the plants for Wynn's potion…
Then, Fiddler saw Wynn yelling at Briallan for botching something, and Severus, sitting on a chair by the fire, a book in his hands, ordering his wife absent-mindedly to leave the girl alone; Fiddler watched little Briallan's mesmerized gaze fixed on Severus as he brewed a potion, his much younger face creased in concentration, his black robes floating around him…
She was now watching him duel with Malfoy, surrounded by cheering crowds of Death Eaters, wagers being placed, and the Dark Lord eyeing his two servants with a smug look… Severus' body tense in his Slytherin attack position, disarming Malfoy, managing to look haughty and bored at the same time…
Briallan was at her window now, watching her sister stirring a cauldron, yelling incantations out loud, robes and hair billowing madly around her and the bleeding boy in her arms, Severus on his knees… No, Wynn, no, please don't, it's Lucas, it's your son, stop her, Severus, stop her, somebody…
Fiddler watched Wynn's father kneeling next to his dead daughter, the Dark Mark fading in his arm, rain falling forcefully over them, as he held her, screaming, cursing, and swearing to Severus' death… As Briallan watched from her window, hating her father, hating Wynn for being so beautiful, so perfect, hating Severus for leaving, crying for Lucas, wanting to jump out and sink in oblivion…
Then, her father's hand slapping her, Briallan tumbling down to the floor, rolling away, cowering… Her father, mad-eyed, blinded by pain and rage… You shall stay and guard your sister's body… Don't you dare leave her… Pay her your respects… You're not worthy of her…
Briallan, locked up in Severus's writing room, arms around his oak chair, painful tears rolling down her cheeks, begging for him to come back… She had a bruise on her face, blood dripping from her nose… Everything was just a throbbing, endless agony…
Briallan, the teenager, whipped to unconsciousness by her own father, as he cursed relentlessly and his words echoed in her head… Let your sister's assassin die…
Briallan, trying to run away, only to get caught and beat mercilessly by a maddened man that she had stopped calling 'Father'…
Blood Traitor… You're not worthy of the Name you carry… You should have died instead of Wynn…
Yes… I should have. I dare you to kill me.
More beats, more whips, more scathing words…
Present-day Briallan was kneeling on a dark altar, blood dripping from both her palms, pain searing through her as the Dark Mark was burned into her pale skin, as she swore allegiance to her Family, her Blood and her Lord…
"You lied", Fiddler said, breaking their connection purposely, as she couldn't stand it another second.
Briallan looked at her, bewildered.
"When you took the Dark Mark. You lied".
"How—How—", for the first time, her voice faltered.
"You lied because you had already witnessed the deceit entwined with the promise… the Lord didn't give a radish about family and loyalty. He had already shattered your family and blood… He had already shattered you".
Briallan's mouth fell open.
"You don't need to tell me why you want to help me, Briallan. I got a good glimpse of your reasons".
Briallan seemed really embarrassed.
"I— do not wish your pity".
"You don't have it. But, Briallan, if we manage to get out of here… You're welcome to stay at my house".
Fiddler spoke those words from her heart, ignoring the nagging of her paranoid mind, that was trying to warn her about the strange fascination of that girl with Severus, and, although she didn't quite know what she expected Briallan to do, what she actually did utterly startled her; she threw her arms around Fiddler and broke into uncontrollable, heart-breaking sobs.
A fragment of the song Fiddler had remembered earlier came to her mind again. And she suddenly realised that, if she had thought of herself as the Prey among the Wolves, Briallan Ludlow most certainly was the Lily among the Thorns.