Chapter Thirty-One: Escape
"I don't understand what we're supposed to achieve from this meeting." Aneirin grumbled as he and his father, the Duke of Gwynedd and Warden of the North, approached Flintshire Castle, in which the other councilors were gathering for a meeting. Tensions in Wales had been running high after the Death Eater attack in Montgomeryshire, and despite the Councilors moto of "Unity, Peace and Prosperity", the country had never been so divided. Understandably, Montgomery wanted revenge for the act of terror, but as there was no proof that Dafydd had played a part in the plot, there was very little that could be done apart from trying to get those who had voted against Arianwen to change their stance.
"I've told you time and again, son, Lord Gwydion wants peace." The Duke insisted.
Aneirin scoffed and his father looked at him disapprovingly. "You are far too distrustful Aneirin, that is not a good quality for a man who will inherit my position. A good son should support his father in all of his endeavors, I am deeply disappointed in you for pledging your allegiance to the Gwydion girl over myself. Don't give me any more reason to disown you than I already have."
"The Duchess," Aneirin said pointedly, disproving of his father's blatant disregard for Arianwen's new title, "seems to be the only person who can see Dafydd for what he is, he wants peace no more than a house elf wants freedom. And if a good son is one that blindly follows his father regardless of his single-mindedness, then perhaps you should disown me."
Aneirin's father was not given the opportunity to respond for at that same moment, the great oaken doors swung open to reveal a number of councilors and their heir's gathered around the strategy table in the vast stone chamber of Flintshire's abode.
"Ah, Llewyn and Aneirin Elisedd, how nice of you to join us." Lord Gwydion greeted them, gesturing towards their seats smoothly. They took their places, and Aneirin glanced around at the others present.
"Now that our final guests have arrived, shall we begin?" Earl Flintshire offered.
"We are still waiting on one are we not?" Duke Montgomery interjected gruffly, looking at Earl Flintshire and Lord Gwydion with distaste.
Dafydd Gwydion arranged his face into a perplexed frown before responding innocently, "oh? Who might that be?"
"You know very well who that is, Lord Gwydion." Marquess Brecknockshire chided in. "Your niece is missing, the Duchess of Pembrokeshire and Carmarthenshire. She too is a war councilor, she should be here."
A few of the other lords murmured their agreement, all looking to Dafydd to hear his justification. "The Duchess," Dafydd uttered the word as though it were dirty, "is in boarding school and is therefore unable to attend."
"A school you forced her to attend." Aneirin spoke calmly but the distrust was evident in his voice. "Seems convenient, does it not, that you continue to hold council meetings she is unable to attend."
"My dear boy," Dafydd patronized, "we are here because we have a matter of great importance to discuss, a matter that should not wait another day. My Lords," Dafydd addressed the room at large, effectively quashing Aneirin's rebellion, "our national security is under threat. Our friend, Duke Montgomery, had a village destroyed because of our inability to act."
The room stirred, the horror of the attack in Montgomeryshire had been brutal and many had witnessed it with their own eyes.
"Gentlemen, what I am about to ask is not easy, and I do so having fully considered both the merits and the consequences. What I ask is that we join forces with the Dark Lord of England to conquer our foes."
A moment of silence.
Then, uproar.
"How dare you suggest such a thing!"
"Madness!"
"You wish to condemn us?"
Dafydd held his hands up to silence the lords, speaking again once the room had settled down. "The Dark Lord sees value in our people, we have the purest bloodlines, the strongest children and the most beautiful women. We have superior educations and our warriors have a greater command of the dark arts than many of the Dark Lord's own followers. What the Dark Lord wants is to mirror our society across the whole of the United Kingdom and mainland Europe, in time reaching the outermost corners of the world."
Montgomery rose to his feet angrily. "Then tell me why my village was ransacked? Why were my people murdered?"
Dafydd looked at him sadly. "The Dark Lord is many things, but patient he is not. We must pledge our armies to him, and we must do so today. It is the only way to prevent further…avoidable losses."
"Never. To agree to this would be to commit treason!" Montgomery implored his peers.
"Oh I don't know about that," came a sleek voice from the shadows. Theodore Nott Snr. approached the table, pulling a scroll from his inner cloak pocket. "To deny the Dark Lord would be to commit treason, you would be condemning your countrymen to die."
All along the walls of the chamber, Death Eaters emerged, their hoods down and faces exposed. They surrounded the councilors and whilst their wands were not yet exposed, it was clear that they had not come in peace.
"Mr. Nott here has brought along a very important document for us all to sign. In doing so we will be pledging our armies to the Dark Lord to use in whichever way he sees fit. Now I must warn you, that this document works much in the same was as an unbreakable vow; if you betray the Dark Lord, you do so at the cost of your life."
"But I don't believe anyone here to be a traitor, so I state this merely as a disclaimer." Dafydd finished. "Now who would like to be the first to sign? He asked cheerily.
Nobody moved.
"Alright," Dafydd said, there was an edge to his tone now, a threatening edge. "I'll sign first."
"And whose armies are you pledging exactly?" Gwyn's father, the Earl of Monmouthsire jeered. "You do not even preside over a county, my lord."
Dafydd's expression blackened. "I am Warden of the South. My participation is vital."
"A position that can be easily repealed." Aneirin's father, the Duke of Gwynedd and Warden of the North warned. Aneirin looked at him in surprise, his father had voted Lord Gwydion into his position after all.
"Indeed," Dafydd sneered, "perhaps you ought to heed the same warning, Duke."
Aneirin saw his father's hand move carefully into his robes and tighten, he assumed, around the handle of his wand.
"Perhaps you would like to lead the pledge, Duke?"
Aneirin's father stood slowly, he moved around the table to where the parchment was placed and lifted the quill with his left hand. Swiftly, he pushed the tip of his wand in his right hand against the quill and grimaced as it burst into flames. He allowed it to drop to the floor before raising his wand to Dafydd's chest.
"Let it be known that I made a mistake voting for Lord Gwydion as Warden of the South. I call for a revote! And I assure you that my vote will lie with the Duchess, Arianwen Gwydion, whose dedication to our country has never faltered."
It wasn't Dafydd that spoke next but Nott. "Then your fate is sealed, my friend." In one swift movement, he raised his wand and cried, "Avada Kedavera!"
Llewyn Elisedd's body went limp in an instant, it thudded to the floor, his wand clattering down beside him, echoing in the silent chamber. Aneirin's mouth fell agape, a dreadful weight was crushing him from all sides and he clutched at his chest, realization of his loss dawning devastatingly on him. "No!" he cried, his voice raspy, a thick lump filling his throat.
"TRAITOR!" Montgomery bellowed. And suddenly the chamber filled with action, spells flying everywhere as the Welshmen furiously avenged their fellow.
Aneirin couldn't fight, he couldn't do anything accept run.
It was rare that Arianwen went to breakfast nowadays, she preferred to wake up early and practice the methods of defense and attack that she'd been learning in the Tower, or work on a new potion for her supplies. However, being the last Friday of term, Arianwen decided she ought to show up and was now sitting amongst her classmates, watching Archimedes fly over to her and settle himself down on top of a jar of plum jam. She smiled at him softly, stroking his glossy white feathers with the back of her fingers. He hooted happily at her, then held out his leg so she could untie the Welsh newspaper and a letter from it.
"Thank you Archie," she cooed, offering him a corner of her toast before unfurling the newspaper. Her eyes grew wide instantly, an image of the Dark Mark glaring back at her ominously. Quickly getting over the initial shock, her eyes flew to the headline 'Death Eater attack in Flintshire – Duke dead!'
"What've you got there?" Blaise asked sharply, drawing the group's attention to Arianwen's state of shock. He peered over her shoulder to read it and while he couldn't understand the writing with it all being in Welsh, the image of the Dark Mark needed no translation. "What's happened?" he enquired, much softer this time.
Arianwen shook her head, "I don't know, I don't know" she repeated, frantically tearing open the pages until she hit page five, where the main article had been given a double spread, the horrifying image of the Dark Mark taking centre stage. There were only two dukes in Wales, Aneirin's father and Montgomery. Her eyes darted over the words, trying to pick out a name but it was no use, too many names had been mentioned in the piece for her to know for sure. She took a steadying breath, then brought her eyes to the top of the page, forcing herself to read the entire article.
A War Council meeting last night was targeted by Death Eaters, resulting in the death of a nobleman and many others injured, an eyewitness reported. The Council meets regularly to discuss all matters of state, though it is thought that last night's meeting was a war convention, brought together to debate increasingly fraying ties with England. Held in Earl Flitshire's principal residence, Flitshire Castle, it is unknown how the Death Eaters gained entrance. Our eyewitness, who requested to remain unnamed, claims that the recently appointed Warden of the South hopes to ally with the 'Dark Lord's' or 'Lord Voldemort's' forces in England, though this proposal was met with resistance and a physical fight ensued. The body of the Duke Elisedd of Gwynedd was found by authorities as they arrived upon the scene, lying face down in his own blood. Authorities suspect the duke was hit by the killing curse, falling forward and cracking his head on the floor, though this is disputed by Lord Gwydion and Earl Flintshire, who claim the duke slipped and fell. An inquest is expected to be held shortly, headed by Duke Montgomery, Warden of Mid-Wales, who was also at the scene.
The whereabouts of the duke's son, Marquess Aneirin Elisedd, is unknown, however as it is claimed he was at the scene, authorities warn the public to prepare themselves that he may also be dead. Duke Montgomery will make a speech later today at the Sengenydd and is likely to announce new elections for Warden of the North, in Marquess Aneirin's absence.
Arianwen placed the paper down, unable to read another word through her rage. She cast her eyes to the other bit of mail she'd received that morning, a rolled up bit of parchment, held together by a waxy red seal. Picking the parchment up, she peeled the seal off and uncurled the note.
Arianwen,
I have no doubt that you will have already heard the news. Last night some Death Eaters attacked us, they did not have to force entry to Flintshire's home, they were invited. They killed my father. My mother-
There was a tear in the page where Aneirin must have pressed so hard that his quill ripped the parchment.
-My mother has joined your uncle, apparently she knew the plan all along.
I think some others are injured, although I don't know details, I didn't stick around long. I am merely writing to inform you that your elf has granted me hospitality in your home – Ty Myddfai. I trust you'll understand why I cannot go home yet.
With thanks,
Aneirin.
It was formal and apart from the small tear, his writing had not quivered once, his speech immaculate, unemotional, but Arianwen knew the pain he must be feeling all too well, the news brought the death of Arianwen's own father to the fore of her mind. She swallowed hard and sucked in a long, steadying breath. Feeling eyes upon her, she looked up to the teacher's table at the front of the hall. There, looking down at her with matching expressions of sickly glee, were the Carrows; they must have known all about the plot as well.
So many emotions were stirring inside her, she wanted revenge and the Carrows looked like an attractive place to start. She'd just lurched from her seat when she was halted by a soft hoot; slowly, she turned to Archimedes who was standing on Aneirin's note, his soft amber eyes imploring her quietly.
She sighed. He was right, Aneirin was the priority, and she could exact her revenge later. Ignoring Blaise's calls for her to stop and tell him what was going on, she pelted out of the great hall and across the entrance hall, her feet carrying her directly to Snape's office.
Meanwhile…
"You have to make her leave, she's not safe here!" Draco yelled, slamming his fist down on Snape's desk and earning himself a cold glare in response.
"I cannot make the Gwydion girl leave, Draco-"
"Of course you fucking can!" Draco interrupted hotly. "Just expel her or something!"
Snape blew air through his nose irritatedly, his eyes following the agitated Malfoy as he paced across his office. Attempting to keep his already fraying patience somewhat intact, it was another minute before he responded. "The Dark Lord wants her here, he is curious about her and wants to keep her in his sights, as you well know. Expelling the girl is not an option."
Draco turned on his heel to glower at Snape. "There must be something you can do?" He knew how desperate he sounded, how weak Snape must have thought him, but the thought of harm coming to Arianwen was enough to allow him to forget his pride. "Please? Please help me?"
A glimmer of sorrow glittered in the professor's eyes, a rare moment of empathy connecting him to the distraught Malfoy boy before him. "I will not expel the girl," Snape started slowly, his voice barely above a whisper, "but the Dark Lord is aware that she has been successful in leaving the castle on a number of occasions, perhaps if she were to pop out again and not return…"
Draco stared wide-eyed at Snape, was he telling him to smuggle her out?
A knock at the door interrupted them, and without waiting for a response, the perpetrator barged into the office.
All the momentum that had taken Arianwen through the castle and into Snape's office was suddenly halted by the sight of Draco, who was watching her warily. Ignoring the painful lurch in her chest that she felt every time she laid eyes on him, she opened her mouth to address the headmaster.
"Oh Severus!" It wasn't Arianwen's voice that called Snape's name but Alecto's, and her footsteps were clattering down the corridor toward them. "Headmaster!" She called again, gleefully.
"Professor Snape-" Arianwen began, but Snape cut her off.
"Quickly, Draco."
Draco nodded, understanding the urgency Snape had implied. If anyone saw him in the castle, he could be tied to Arianwen's escape and brought before the Dark Lord. He had to act fast.
He pointed his wand at Arianwen and stunned her silently, catching her body before it thudded to the ground. Pointing his wand at her for a second time, he transfigured her into a mouse, scooped her up off the floor and pocketed her. Then, with Alecto's footsteps right outside the office, Draco grabbed a handful of Floo powder, threw it into Snape's fireplace and said clearly but quietly, "Diagon Alley."
As soon as his feet hit the stone floor of one of the many public fireplaces in Diagon Alley, Draco swept out, pulling his hood up to hide his face.
Not that there's anyone here anyway, he thought grimly. The shopping district received barely any traffic these days, people were too scared to leave their houses. It was a convenient phenomenon today however, for Draco did not wish to be seen. He walked quickly to the town square, where he knew he would be able to apparate. Then as he reached it, and with a quick glance around to ensure he hadn't been detected, he turned tightly on the ball of his foot and apparated out.
They arrived a moment later in a windy field, with only an oak tree for shelter. It was there that he took the tiny mouse out of his pocket, placed it carefully on the ground and cast a reverse-transfiguration spell. In reversing her transfigured state, he also reversed the stunning spell, and Arianwen sprung into action. With one quick movement, she'd pulled her dagger from its sheath at her back, twisted his arm behind his back and pushed him roughly against the tree, the blade cutting into his throat.
"Where you there?" She screamed, despite her face being mere inches away from his own. "Did you attack my friends? Did you kill Duke Elisedd?"
Barely able to move without sinking Arianwen's blade deeper into his throat, Draco responded gruffly, "No! I swear it!"
Arianwen stared deep into his eyes, her own eyes ablaze with wretched anger and disgust. Draco stared defiantly back, opening his mind so that she could examine it if that was her will.
She didn't. Whatever she had seen in his eyes was enough, for she backed away slowly, releasing his throat of her knife but keeping it firmly out in front of her nevertheless. For the first time she looked around, taking in her surroundings. It was familiar, very familiar; the air tasted sweet, the wind whipping around them in a dance that Arianwen knew well.
"Home," she said softly, smiling despite herself. She took another long look at the field they had landed in, knowing it was just a few miles from Myddfai House, before bringing her attention back to Draco. "I don't understand." Was all she said.
"I don't expect you to," Draco responded simply.
"Right…" Arianwen looked around, feeling awkward for the first time. "Uh, so I guess I'm just going to go…"
"No, you're not. We've got somewhere to be." Arianwen simply blinked, waiting for him to continue. "There's a child isn't there?"
It was like ice had been poured down her back. She froze, a thousand questions racing through her mind at once. Seeming to understand this, Draco spoke calmly. "You don't need to worry but you do need to act. The Dark Lord is becoming increasingly interested in the child, your uncle believes him to possess some," he paused, deciding on the right word to use, "dark capabilities. Capabilities the Dark Lord could capitalize on. Not to mention that the child can secure your uncle's status as Warden of South Wales, legitimizing him in the minds of other influential lords who are yet to pledge allegiance to the Dark Lord."
Arianwen nodded. "But what are you suggesting I do exactly? The child is safe-"
"The child cannot be safe unless he's with you!" Draco cut in urgently. "You have to be the one to guard the child, make him yours, make it impossible for your uncle to claim him himself."
It was a lot to take in, Draco was basically telling her she had to become a mother overnight and somehow alter Lloyd's genetic makeup at the same time. "What if I'm not ready? I won't be able to finish school, I won't be able to provide for him, I won't be able to-"
"Arianwen," Draco's voice was stern, "it's your only hope if you want any family left." He knew he'd hit home with that one; for as long as he'd known Arianwen he'd seen how much she had craved a family.
"Okay," she sounded determined, "okay lets do it. I'll apparate us there."
Draco closed the gap between them and laced her arm in his, his mind fogging somewhat by their proximity. Then, with an almighty jerk, they were plunged into darkness, arriving moments later in North Wales.
A/N: Evening lovelies! Sorry this has been so long coming, I've really really been suffering with writers block - I know what I want to happen I've just been having difficulties making it happen. In fact, I think this might be the fourth attempt at this chapter...it's been a real pain! So as always I would really appreciate (and do appreciate) your reviews, follows and favourites. Have a wonderful week!
P.S: the next chapter will have a lot of Arianwen/Draco time but lets not forget that she's still technically with Gwyn...any thoughts on what she should do about that?