Chapter Three: Justification

"What were you thinking about bringing him here?" Remus Lupin's voice was cold and hushed. He stood now, reclining on the wall, and peering into his bedroom where his wife, large with child though she was, was busying about trying to save the Black Prince.

Severus was sitting down opposite the door, elbows resting on his knees and hands folded under his chin. "I had no where else to go."

"He's a murderer!"

"So am I."

Remus stopped and glared at his friend for a long time. Snape knew whatever words came next would be cold and probably true. Remus had changed. The Werewolf's face had aged since last they had seen each other, turning darker and thinner as the years passed. In recent months, despite the promise of an upcoming family, Severus had heard Remus was becoming colder, distant from friends and family. The pain of twice losing mates, and now- his firstborn son- was desperate and violent and Remus was finally beginning to buckle under the pain. Severus felt pained to bring reminders of the war and their cost back to Lupin, but knew, somewhat coldly, that there was no other means.

He would not lose his son.

"That thing in there murdered Kaiya." Remus began, softly at first as if each word brought him pain. Snape knew better though, Remus was trying to cushion the blow. "He murdered your daughter, made you a victim in your own country and almost destroyed everything you fought to protect. You owe him nothing."

"I will not turn my back on my son! I can help him!"

"What makes you think he wants your help? What assurance do you have that this isn't another ploy to kill you?" Remus demanded coldly, and then caught himself. The wolf bowed his head, and moved to close the distance between them. His voice returned softer. "Severus, some people do not deserve to be saved."

Snape looked at him callously. He rose to his full height then, keeping his voice a low whisper. "I am the Dark Prince, my Master's chosen weapon. His crowning glory. I made nations tremble and armies into ash. I have killed more then any nightmare you can fathom and not just my enemies- but also their families; innocence people who had no part in a war made solely for my entertainment. Had I wanted too, I could destroy those just like you…and your wife." He turned to watch as Amissa cast her spells of healing and protection over Mordred, giving no thought to herself. "It was so easy. I could creep into the rooms, and have all the time in the world for what I wanted to do. Sometimes, just for sport, I even made wives believe that murdering their husbands would spare their lives and you'd be amazed how fast they'd utter the words…"

Snape grew silent for a moment, still transfixed by the vision of Amissa doing her Runic magic. "And by Providence or pain, I was saved. So don't you dare begin to tell me some people don't deserve that choice." He moved swiftly as he saw Amissa complete her casting and motion to him quietly.

"Severus," Remus called softly. "Was."

"What?"

"You were the Dark Prince. You aren't anymore, remember?" Remus face was stone. "Isn't that what you fought for?" Snape fell silent again, giving the smallest entryway for Remus to rebut. When the wolf spoke, it was in love. "I'm only trying to protect my family, Snape."

"So am I." Snape returned, walking into the room. He laughed bitterly, stopping for a moment. "Funny how it works, isn't it Remus?"

"What?"

"How one day, your girl says she's late, it's yours and she's going to keep it and all of a sudden, even if you don't want too…you have to pretend to be a loving father." Snape smiled again as his insult sunk in. "But you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Lupe?"

Amissa's face was dimmed by the low candle light in the room. She was wiping chalk from her hands when Snape approached, and in the pale light, Severus glimpsed her legacy as member of an ancient priest line. She was dressed in her nightgown- a pale white dress that flowed over her bloated stomach in ripples, and her long hair was down, around the shoulders and framing the face. The light caught the paleness of her eyes making her appear malevolent but the image dismissed itself as soon as it had appeared. Leaving only Amissa in its wake, a thin frown on her face.

"I was able to neutralize most of the pain." She told him, looking down at her hands, and pausing to glance at the bed. "And stop the bleeding for now…" She inhaled, and shook her head now as she raised her gaze to meet Severus' eyes. "But I could not heal him fully. The spell that was cast over him was a three-fold curse; it's resistant to Runic healing. I can't get it to release him."

"But you're a Rune Mage." Severus started desperately. "You're the strongest type of healer Hecate has. How can you not be able to heal him?"

"Because the spell is tailored specifically to your son by a Master Charmer. It was woven into him…like your Teiwaz charm was." She waved her hand over Severus' left eye in example.

Immediately Severus became conscious of a gentle warmth over his eye, as the Rune Teiwaz- wound healing- flared under its caster command. It was not a painful experience but for a moment, the vision in his left eye fled completely. He had been blinded in that eye during the final battle and rather then looking like a pirate for the rest of his life, he had allowed Amissa to cast a powerful Rune to restore some, but not all, of his sight. Because he had chosen to learn Voldemort's Nameless magic, which had roots in Necromancy, Amissa's Runic magic could not fully penetrate him.

She had told him that a Kaga would have the skills to completely restore sight to his eye because Kaga trained in free types of magicks, not allied to one discipline or another but Severus had yet to take anyone up on that offer. There was only one Kaga he trusted to perform such intimate magic on him.

And that person was dead.

"How does this type of curse work?" He murmured, blinking away the blindness as dim visions gradually returned to him.

Amissa inhaled nervously. "In the old days, they were used as ransoms. Coercion to get the victim to do whatever they wanted. It took time for this spell to be cast…meaning Mordred was probably ambushed and while he fought off his other attackers, the Rune Mage was able to curse him. The first part of the spell was the casting; Mordred probably thought he had been hit by a nasty hex. The second part…came later." She motioned to the bed, sadly. "It's like a wound that cannot be closed properly and begin to get infected. It's meant to be slow, and painful…to force Mordred into doing what they want in order to get the cure."

Snape licked his lips in an attempt to buy time and find his voice. "…and what is the last stage?"

"If he doesn't concede?" There was a moment. "Death."

Severus brushed past her to the bedside. Mordred laid peacefully on the blankets, eyes shut and hair strewn about his face like a matted crown. His lips quivered as Snape realized he was mumbling- praying some mantra over and over again that Severus could not understand. He wanted very much to comfort his son suddenly, but knowing no means to do, Snape was forced to remained focus on business.

"Mordred?" He whispered, kneeling down so he wouldn't have to raise his voice and disturb him any more then he had to. "…Mordred?" There was no reply. "Son?"

Mordred twitched and turned in the direction of his voice but didn't open his eyes. He stumbled over the word many times before his voice obeyed him. "Father?"

"Tell me who did this to you."

Mordred's face twisted in pain. "Aeacus Croix…"

"Croix!" Amissa started, "That's not possible…"

Severus turned. "Do you know Aeacus?"

"I know the family name" She began, "by reputation. The Croix are a Runic family, as old as the Moons and just as powerful. But they're zealots and recluse. They believe in the Old Ways concerning Gods and the Darkness." She made a disgusted sound. "They're the type of people who believe when you enter a dark place, you should first ask the shadows for permission and guidance to ensure a safe travel."

"And why not?" Mordred mumbled. "There's a lot of things that go bump in the night."

"Rest." Severus retorted, putting his hand over Mordred's. "Don't be smart."

"Don't worry, I never was."

"Why did Croix do this to you?" Severus whispered, pained. "What was he after?"

Mordred's eyes fluttered open, gaining strength from some unseen force- probably pure hatred and spite. "He wants Dove."

"Dove?"

"A girl under my care. She has incredible powers, powers Aeacus will try to use for his own designs." The Black Prince winced. "He's hoping that in my pain, I will go to Dove to heal me."

"Where is she?"

Mordred shook his head. "I cannot tell you." He breathed, wincing as another wave of pain threatened to break through Amissa's charms. "It's not safe."

"I am the Dark…"

"You are an Auror." Mordred countered, firmly. He was trying to sit up now, but succeeded in only rising a little. "And my last hope. Croix knows I've come to you. He'll send his bitch soon…" Mordred's face screwed into an expression of deep pain. "And she'll finish what she's started."

"I will not let you die." Snape hissed, leaning closer to Mordred and taking his hand. "We can fix this. If Dove is the way, let me bring her to you."

"No. You don't understand…"

"Your right." Severus said simply. "I don't understand and I don't care." He could feel tears begin to sting at his eyes but he strained to keep his voice low and steady. "We'll figure it out. We'll make it better."

Mordred laughed, "Oh father. Come to save me from the monsters hiding in my closet?" There were tears in the Prince's eyes. "It's too late for that."

"Why?" Snape demanded quietly. "Why won't you let me help you? Who is this Dove and why is she so important to you?"

Mordred closed his eyes for a moment, to gather strength before looking up gently. His hand curled up, to capture Severus' fingers in his own. There was a small pressure as Mordred gripped his father's hand in comfort. When he spoke, the Black Prince's voice held dignity, pain and above all else: resolve. "She is the one I am willing to die to protect."

With every fiber in his being, Severus wanted to shout and rant to convince Mordred there was another way. There had to be. He felt weak, strained and pained to be in such a situation that was only compounded by the grim weight of knowledge that came with the aspect of death. Mordred lay there, pristine and pained, and Severus wondered for a moment if Mordred knew exactly what would die with him. Mordred was the Heir of Akel Dama, the latest and last of those who bore the name Snape and if he died, so would the reign of a powerful family.

And forsaking even that, Mordred was Severus' son. The only remaining family Severus had on this earth and Snape would not lose him as he had all others.

"The man you said…Croix." Severus whispered, after a time. "He would have a cure?"

"Yes." Amissa answered, before Mordred could counter him.

"Where did you face him?" He pressed, nudging Mordred away from slumber. "Where?"

Mordred's voice was dim and fractured and for a moment, Severus was certain he didn't know who was asking him the question. This was to his benefit, he decided, if Mordred knew what bloody business Snape was plotting; Mordred would stop it.

"Ireland." Mordred murmured. "I was traveling to Malone's old home. Eoin's brother Kiernan…was to provide safe haven."

"I know it." Snape stood slowly, glancing at Amissa. "If you could watch him for the night, I take him tomorrow."

Amissa ignored Remus' disgruntled sound. She nodded gingerly. "I see if I can do anything more for him tonight."

"Thank you Amissa." Severus turned to go.

"What are you planning to do?" Amissa asked quietly.

Snape paused for a moment to consider this question. "Save my family."