Thank you to everyone who messaged or reviewed following my announcement. I appreciated your kindness, and your words of support. At the time I didn't have the emotional fortitude to make any real responses, as my stores of strength had dwindled into reactions to normal conversation in the form of weeping.

I will be deleting the update so I can keep the chapter numbers consistent. Enjoy!

Chapter 33

The lute and lyre rang with a light, joy filled tune and Tyt'o kept his grip on his sisters hand light as he spun her around once, her merry laughter tinkling in the air around them. She smiled brightly and he returned it without thinking otherwise. She squeezed his hand before she released him, and he chuckled before he returned to himself once again.

Yule was fast upon them, and there was merriment all through the castle and their home within the keep walls. Temperatures had plummeted and rightly thus lessons had slowed as the warmth had all but been sucked away from every last corner of the stone walls. The interior of the living spaces were dotted with fires that roared through the day to chase away the cold, and with Master Mora having recovered as much of her strengths as she knew possible, it had been an uncommon transition into the holiday.

Tyt'o grinned knowingly at his sister, and he motioned to the players of the instruments to continue on, which they obliged with mischievous smiles. He picked his sister up by her waist and moved her in the customary circle before replacing her to the floor once again and the pair bowed as the music played on. She laughed at her brother as they clapped their hands and circled again.

The little Hall was alight with the activity between the siblings and the small band of musicians who played. The afternoon had been otherwise quite dull and grim. Clouds hovered around the jutting peaks that encased the castle, and a bit of gloom had settled around the little valley over the last week. Snow had fallen intermittently, and with the now-freezing temperatures it was not advisable to take the horses out any longer than they needed to be. Though they were hearty breeds, many of the riding mares were heavier along in pregnancies, anticipating to foal when the spring approached. Joy riding was neither enjoyable for the mothers-to-be as their energies were being used for the development of their foals, and not for petty frolics.

Having only one Master to work the four pupils, Sirius Black had found that without his stern cohort the small team of young adults proved far more unruly than they would be if Rune Mora was present. It seemed that while he excelled in competencies of teaching and instructions, maintaining the focus of four individuals simultaneously was not his precise forte. It was often that while he would engage pairs of his students, the remaining half of his diminutive class would inevitably drift off in focus. Or simply begin running side-dialogue that was distracting and off-topic.

There had been many earnest moments in which Sirius Black had silently gritted his teeth and thanked the fates that he had not ever sired a brood of his own.

To combat the incessant distraction, the Master had finally divided the group into a rotation of pairs, of which he would send one away to the castle library to read silently, while he attended the other in a variety of activities for four-hour blocks. Once the block was over, the pair switched. The day following the pairs would rotate so that there would be no stagnation overall.

As Rune had made more of a recovery, she had been able to sit in with his lessons for short periods before sheer exhaustion would overtake her, and she would find herself wobbling on unsteady feet back to her rooms. It had been more often than a few times that Sirius Black, though much to her consternation and annoyance, had escorted her, insisting that she accept his offered assistance.

At first, her piercing look of annoyance had nearly deterred him, but when he discovered that in her weaker state, she was all bark and no bite, he foisted his care of her upon her without heeding her insistence that it was not required. The pair had never previously taken a large degree of liking to the other; Sirius being a consummate pursuer of women, and Rune being a vehement alienator of kindnesses pair by any man.

Despite the abject horror that had decorated her expression when he had first taken her arm over her shoulder, he had scoffed and allayed her discontent with a simple shake of his head. "Don't let this give you any imaginings of my intentions, Master Mora." He had chided. "I'll have you know I am no man of a great House, and therefore no man to temp you into any understanding." At that she had laughed outright.

"There is no such man alive who would tempt me thus." She mentioned, and Sirius allowed an eyebrow to shoot up playfully.

"And what of beyond the veil, good Master?" He asked playfully. "Is that why your heart is so cold to the men of the living realms?" The pair had continued on as he walked her back to her rooms to settle her weakened body down for another rest. The taxation of moving around and trying to teach was still too great after her ordeal in the dead lands.

"Not even in there, I am afraid." She said quieter and panting lightly from the exertion, and he nodded in understanding.

"I had heard a whisper or so, some number of years back." He mentioned then, and she looked at him from the side, considering him then. She was closer to him then than she had been to any man for handfuls of years, that she could recall, and yet being so joined to his side did not cause her to feel as displeased at it, as she typically would. Though, admittedly, she had never had any inkling to try.

"And what whispers were they that you heard?" She challenged, meeting him head-on.

"Only that the great Necromancer Mora was not a maid who wished to be won by the heart of a living man." At that, she shrugged. It wasn't untrue. There was not a man yet alive that had been able to capture her heart, though she had been dutiful and respectful to conceal and secret the few indiscretions she had engaged in over the years of her adulthood, she doubted that he would have known of them in any specific detail.

Though, the prospect that he had sniffed out as much as he had, despite that the pair had no common social interactions, and their working relationship currently was both new to them as it was an uncommon occurrence within the normal confines of traditional tutelage within Houses of the land.

She remained silent as they had continued their walk together. Her solemnly leaning against him, shuffling her weak feet beneath her as much as she could, trying to take as much of her own burden as she could. Rune would never speak this aloud, but it did feel much better to have the assistance he had offered, rather than to struggle alone the long way back to her rooms.

The pair shuffled along, her full weight now being hefted to Sirius. He gave her a playful side-glance and huffed dramatically. "You are a heavier burden than I would expect." He mentioned, keeping his tone casual, and it made her laugh. It was a genuine laugh, not one fraught with insecurity or bashfulness.

"A heavy body is a strong body, Black." She said proudly and he looked at her with surprise. A female would typically take exception to his kind of humor, inciting a flirtation, or establishing a round of defense to the lady's person. With Mora, her response was unrepentant and proud. It was a statement in itself, and it was different than what he was used to. "I imagine you're in the practice of carrying many women through castles which are not the homes of your family?" She challenged.

"Well," he said, clearing his throat, but she interrupted and squared off at him with a look that took him by surprise in its severity.

"Because I can tell you that carrying a woman that great a distance is not a difficult task, if one keeps themselves in good enough shape, that is."

Sirius' jaw all but dropped at the boldness of her proclamation. They had danced around the topic to be certain, and many a time, but to hear it claimed without hesitation from his fellow Master was a shock.

It had been at that proclamation that their conversation had ended. The stairs had proven too great a difficulty for them to amble her up, and Sirius had found himself bending at his knees to take his fellow master up them in the style he would if she were a bride, and he a groom.

At that point, the woman could not –or would not- look at him in the face for any longer through the journey. Upon getting her into her room, and to the bed she used while a guest in the House, there had been a silence between the pair that had lingered through the rest of their trip.

Their interactions were largely to do with their pupils, so to this point it had been rare that the pair had any need to impart anything about themselves. And regardless of the suspicions he had had, and the rumors that he had heard a few scant times, Sirius had still been taken by surprise in Rune's confession.

Between the frustration of keeping the four young students in line and focused for long enough to absorb the information he was trying to teach them, and the constant bother in his conscious over Rune's preferences in partners, he found that he too, had begun to lack focus.

It was at this breaking point, both for Sirius as well as the children he taught, that it seemed a fitting time that the Lady of the House Malfoy arrived at the castle within the valley of Morvan Rove.

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The darkest days of the year had begun to pass and the rebirth of the solar gods had finally begun the approach with Yule less than a week away. The rocking of the carriage beneath Narcissa's feminine frame jarred her as she cast yet another quiet spell around the small space she occupied to bring a little warmth back into her delicate bones. Feeling warmth spread all around her, she buried her hands around her body, casting her magic around her body beneath her thick dress and coat.

The coat she had wrapped around her had proved less than practical at the point where she could first see the mountain range from the window of her carriage. The House of Malfoy, where she had spent nearly the last two score of years living in, was considerably more forgiving where winter was concerned that the lands she entered now.

She sighed and watched the horizon through blond strands that had worked their way out of her low up-do. Given the chilling climate it would be more pragmatic that her hair be unbound as it would warm her neck and part of her face. Instead, the Woman delved deep into the wellspring from which her magic flowed within her and pulled with ease another layer to warm her beneath her clothes. She tucked the sides of her dress around her thighs and leaned back into the padded bench, and exhaled in a long sigh.

The carriage maintained a steady rocking over the road into the Gresham lands. Always at a rhythmic and steady pace, rocking the Lady back and forth as she reposed in this most uneventful stretch of her travel to see her son.

In closing her eyes, she felt only the rhythm of her body, as her thighs had pressed together to conserve and build the warmth she had created. In turn. The constant motion of the carriage, combined with how firmly she held her thighs together had resulted in an unexpected warmth between her legs. And, though she closed her eyes to focus on pushing it away, she felt the pulsating sensation working harder to claim further ground in her nether areas.

A warm and pulsing feeling had taken root there, and had established the kindling for a fire where it grew. With each pitch and rock she fought the urge to squeeze and rub her legs together to stoke the little fire that was building. It's been too long since I felt that. She mused as she rocked her hips from side to side for a second.

The realization of where she was, however, yanked her firmly back into reality and she opened her eyes with a start. The Lady took a deep breath and stretched her body upward, releasing her body's tension. It had already been a long trip, and she firmly rejected the idea that her body had certain needs which were being exacerbated by the incessant rubbing together of her thighs. Her sigh was a combination between a frustrated groan and an authentic exhalation.

Her delicately shaped hands, in their finely tooled fur-lined leather gloves smoothed over the top of her heavy velvet and brocade dress. She looked again to the mountains that now began to loom in the distance, growing ever-larger as they neared.

This journey was already too long, she sighed.

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With the tips of his fingers, Draco combed gently through the curls of his inamorato and he deepened his kiss by swiping his tongue playfully over her lips. The sound of her voice as she moaned and sighed together stirred primal urges in his body and groin that he could only quell by touching her, or himself. And the later was absolutely more preferred to the former.

In the circle of his arms, he squeezed around Hermione's body desperately as the surge of urgency summited between them, their gasps muffled as much as they could in their secret embrace in the corner behind a curtain they were occupying.

The heir to the House of Malfoy nearly chuckled into her mouth as she pressed into him firmly, urgently, as her hands entered his hair and the dance of their kissing ran forward at high speed.

Despite the promises spoken those months ago of chastity and patience, the paid had found it ever-more difficult to keep their attentions to themselves, and their studies. At first it had been lingering gazes and smiles when they were alone for rare moments. Their faces would color with youthful embarrassment, and they would smile shyly to the other.

Soon that shyness melted away to heated stares, grazing fingertips, lingering touches, and passing caresses as they rounded corners slower than their fellow pupils. This then opened the doors to secretive and bold touched of hands and wrists beneath the thick and ancient table tops at mealtime, and later evolving into hurried moments behind corners, passageways and thick draperies. Each stolen kiss was exhilarations they had never experienced, and were ravenous to fill themselves with again and again.

Their current desperation was no exception, and though Hermione pushed onward as she literally pushed her body flush against him, Draco rolled his hips into her hips in an explorative gesture. The two broke apart almost just as quickly, both in shock from the seductive escalation that had exploded suddenly. Her eyes were like fire as her breaths were ragged, and the pressure in him pulling as him from his groin raged inside him to be heeded, and answered. But she faltered as he drew her back to him, her hand firmly upon his chest as she glanced at it, and then back up to him. "We must return." She said breathily, and the young Lord leaned back slightly before groaning, knowing she was right.

They had literally excused themselves from their lesson under the guise that they wished to relieve themselves, and not specifically to cave to the growing yearning the two teens were fraught with.

Draco growled out his agreeance to her, and made to release her. As he did she bounced up and took a quick lingering nip to his lower lip, capturing him back into another lingering, fiery series of kisses and tongues dancing together endlessly. Hermione smiled and as she kissed him, reminded him. "Let us away now, before we are discovered, dear heart." He smiled back at the use of her new pet name for him and swirled his tongue one last time with hers as he moved his hands to cup her face and weave the length of her bound curls around his fist. They were like silk in his hands, now callousing from the months of riding and constant training of his physique and magical skill.

He smiled at her adoringly as they spent their last moments in reverence of the other, holding the other carefully in intimate proximity. His fingertips touched her cheek. "Someday." He breathed and trailed down her neck to her collarbone. She nodded her agreement, and with a staying look, the two parted and Draco peeked out from their protected cocoon to check their surroundings for interlopers.

Their luck ran high, and he tugged her gently behind him as the two exited the little space they frequented together while sneaking away from the Great Hall.

From behind the pair, a gust of icy air rushed past them without warning. Turning immediately and dropping their clasp hands automatically, they were met with the sounds of conversation coming from none other than Ursa Gresham, and a feminine voice that Hermione had never heard before.

She glanced to Draco with a look of relief at not having been discovered, but the approaching voices spurned her into action and she jerked her head back to the Great Hall. She strode swiftly to their make-shift classroom, only to glance back at her paramour to find that he had not joined her at all, and in fact he remained where she had left him and was now rooted in place.

She followed his slack and disbelieving expression to where he had focused to see the now-arrived figure of her mother, Ursa, but also a woman slightly taller and of the most beautiful blond hair imaginable. Her features were fine and perfectly feminine, and her manner of dress utterly refined in perfection. It was the curve of her high cheeks and the shape of her eyes that harkened to those of Draco's own facial structure that caught Hermione immediately, as the woman silently and hesitantly strode forth towards her clandestine fiancé. Her hand over hear heart as she neared him.

Slowly at first the duo approached each other until their final paces surged them forward into a tangled embrace. Their arms held tight to the other and Narcissa found that she was now forced to bury her face into her sons shoulder. When had this happened? She wondered as they held the other fast, realizing that only months ago she recalled his height to be shorter than it was now. She smiled as she felt the burn of tears in her eyes, and she fought them away by squeezing her eyes shut and trying to breathe steadily and slowly.

His mother squeezed him tightly before she released him, and in doing so stared straight at him. His hair had gotten longer; it had grown past his tailored straight collar and had just barely begun to brush his shoulders. The boyish features she had committed to memory at his departure seemed less rounded now, his face more defined and his demeanor more confident. Something about the impishness of his posture and his lightly labored breathing spoke of newfound adulthood and the laying claim of a degree of manliness that harkened her attention suddenly…..

She leaned back a degree and really looked at him. His cheeks were flushed and his hair, while long, was mussed at the roots just slightly. No longer combed completely. He was struggling to quell a prideful smirk beneath an exterior of emotions that seemed to be layered atop him haphazardly, like some kind of skill less distraction. She cocked her head so slightly and inclined a light eyebrow upward as she considered him. His jaunty expression settled some, then as he noted how her consideration of him had shifted. Though their hands remained connected, he found himself fighting desperately to maintain eye contact with her, and not turn to look at Hermione, who stood there as well some number of paces beyond him.

It was her mother that broke the silence with a narrowed-eye and reprimanding expression.

"Prithee where do you come from, daughter-mine?" Ursa looked from Hermione to Draco carefully.

As though she were a doe caught in a paralyzing terror before she was snared by a hunter, the girl hesitated only a moment before she gave a weak smile. "Just a ramble to the garderobe*, mother." She said in a voice that should have been more confident. Ursa pursed her lips and looked at the young man before her, at the side of their newest guest. He'd nodded his assent of her excuse, trying not to look too eager.

That he was trying did not escape her attention and she glanced again at Hermione and held her hand out to her daughter without another comment. Hermione approached her mother dutifully and took Ursa's hand. The Lady of the House of Gresham returned her attention back to their newly arrived, and ornately dressed guest and smiled warmly.

"What a lovely happenstance that we have stumbled across this pair; I had left them recently to their studies with Master Black in the Great Hall." Narcissa nodded and Draco offered his bent arm to his mother, and she lay her arms around his forearm.

"Then that is where we shall return them." The stately Malfoy Lady said, and nodded to Draco matter-of-factly. "Studies and mastery are preeminent."

Ursa spoke with their guest invitingly and pleasantly as the pair walked their respective children to the Great Hall to return them back to their lesson. Lady Gresham motioned them inward as she and Narcissa watched on through the break in the door, agreeing without words that the rest of the gathering should not be disturbed in Narcissa's arrival. Upon confirmation that the two were secured behind the tall and grand doors, Ursa squared herself and smiled tiredly for a moment at the woman she now faced.

Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black, had never been in an alliance of the House of Allerton, nor of the House to which Ursa belonged to now, of the family Gresham. For what had seemed ages the divided Houses had gouged and tore at each other in endless subterfuge, turning to out-and-out assaults. It was queer now that a supposed master player in that great game of politics should stand here, before her in such a supplicating capacity; as a guest under the protection of the family itself.

Ursa returned her gaze with hesitance back to Narcissa, taking a deep breath to steel herself before she did, but the lady held her hand up sharply before the dark-haired woman could utter a word.

"We need not placate one another with niceties." She said with a mild expression, bringing her hand back down. "I know to what position we have placed your family." Her demeanor was quite casual, for one speaking of matters so serious.

"I see." Said Ursa, considering the woman carefully and motioned to her to the hall leading to the stairs that ascended to the living quarters. "Then how do we find a comfortable convergence, Lady Malfoy?" Ursa inquired as the pair fell into step together. They carefully faced forward as they continued their talk, the tones of their voices were even, and perhaps somewhat quiet. As though they were shielding their conversation from idle ears.

Narcissa tried not to cringe at the pointedly sweet manner in which Ursa Gresham's tone caressed her formal title when she called her "Lady Malfoy." In truth, Narcissa had only cherished her title long enough to discover that her husband was verily a rogue as well as a villain. Despite that private revelation, she held her head steady and her posture proud and she smiled with false serenity to all those around her. She inclined her head, her gesture practiced and perfected as she considered Ursa Gresham now; it would be some time yet until she made a conclusion about her fellow Lady.

"I believe I will remain as free of you, as you could hope to remain free of me, Lady Gresham." She said finally.

Ursa tried not to scoff at her. "Attempting to remain unencumbered seems somewhat belated." She responded. "Certainly it will be more so as time passes."

The Lady of the House of Malfoy had long years of practice holding her game close to her person as she navigated and strategized. Her maneuvering as seamless as possible, and her scheming nearly undetectable. Long years had passed since she had yearned to burst forth from her cocoon of cunning deeds and clandestine plots.

Lady Gresham made an uncomfortable point; if her deduction did not deceive her, he only son had lain his eyes firmly on the only daughter of this House. From his posture and mussed hair down to how his eyes had darted from his lady-love to his mother nervously; Draco was not yet as masterful in own game of cloak-and-dagger as his mother was in hers, and she saw through him as soon as she noticed the pair in the hallway together.

A complicating development this would prove, indeed, she concluded silently.

"Nevertheless, you are our guest, and despite the adversarial past we would issue you welcome besides. The time for the solar god to begin his return of the fertile seasons approaches, and all should partake in that blessing." Her tone stately and her warmth a bit forced, for next to her stood the veritable personification of threat to her House, and her family's safety and well-being. But at that, her status as the Lady required her to comport herself with dignity and poise, though she wished ardently otherwise.

With a smile that did not reach her eyes, nor did it expose her teeth, Narcissa turned then as they reached the doors before her rooms and held her hands out to Ursa. Her fellow Lady accepted them, the challenge met and their eyes locked as they sized each other up directly, their gazes unfaltering. Bronze eyes and blue, considering the other with speculation.

"The blessings we shall celebrate. You are most gracious indeed." Narcissa stated.

"You praise is most charitable." Ursa all but ground out.

Their statements made, the pair released the other after a moment that lasted some moments longer than what would be friendly. Theirs was laced with a subtle, almost-hostility between the two formidable Ladies. They watched the other like hawks; careful and calculating for the slightest show of weakness.

"In the face of such grace, I find it easy." Ursa nodded to her guest.

"I hope you find your rooms inviting and comfortable, and entreat you to join the family and your heir this evening to sup." Narcissa nodded her head only once, and Ursa turned with as much control as she could muster under the scrutiny. Her tense muscles had begun to complain at the tension within her shoulders and back through this journey through the keep to escort their newest arrival.

At the sound of the shutting wooden doors behind her, Ursa glanced once behind to confirm that the Lady Malfoy had indeed secluded herself within the rooms prepared for her for her stay. Her ramrod straight posture slackened and an involuntary palm leapt up to the juncture of her throat and neck as she took a deep breath in, and released it. She quickened her steps through the hall to the opposite end of the vast structure, to where her husband conducted his business matters as the Lord.

From behind the thick wooden door, the Lady Malfoy had placed her hands immediately on the wood that created her refuge in this new haven of hers and drew upon it a spell to seal in noises from the outside. She, too, signed heavily and closed her eyes as she sank her forehead into the wood between her open palms. Slowly as she relaxed and exhaled she released her posture and too, she slackened the stress from her person.

She turned around without opening her eyes and allowed herself to sag just slightly at the door. When she opened them and took in the accommodations presented to her, she found herself quite surprised at the luxury in her surroundings. The lead-paned windows opened to a vast expanse of mountain side and bathed the room in natural light. Thick velvet curtains that were clear guards against the gales winter were pulled back to the sides. A fire crackled away in the hearth, popping and fizzing at intervals. The warmth spreading through the spacious room effectively. Her canopy bed was lain heavily with soft quilts with a duvet, and a peeking around the top looked to be a light and downy animal fur. The wooden posters were ornately carved with images of wood nymphs and brownies, blossoming flowers and great trees filled with song birds.

With appreciative touches she examined them as she walked to the bed to note that the duvet was as plush and soft as it had appeared to be. Her pillows were covered in soft fabric, the likes she had never seen. As she touched and explored, she found herself feeling an unladylike desire to adjourn for the day to sink within the welcoming folds and shut out the entirety of the world around her.

Instead, she sat gently at the edge and considered the valley outside the windows of her room. The snow atop the craggy peaks gave the mountains a cold and sharp beauty. As the wind bellowed, clouds of snow dust gusted from the top of the snowbanks in a frigid fury. The surrounding cocoon of both coniferous and deciduous trees that crept up the slopes of the mountains were littered with their own outfitting of frost and snow. The effect was quite wondrous, when she thought of it objectively.

Political leanings and personal judgements aside, when all was considered, the land surrounding the castle was entirely beautiful. Within the collective of the Houses United, it was thought of quite simply that the House of Gresham has sprung from 'working' origins, rather than descended from those of the aristocracy. Her own family, the Blacks, had indeed been that of ancient noble lineage. Therefore her match to her Lord husband had been a fitting presumption at the time it was accorded. Absorbing all that she saw around her was proving contrary to the vitriol she had been filled with her entire life by the House of her birth, and now the House of her marriage.

Narcissa removed her traveling cloak from her shoulders and stretched as she afforded herself an expression of happiness, here alone and unwatched by unfriendly eyes. Perhaps then as she tended to the seeds she had been sowing these last years by means of her own scheming, she could watch to see what those of the House of Gresham were truly made of. She was here now, and out of the lands of her Husband, and the many indiscretions he was part of. His cruelty was unable to reach her here.

The woman drew her magic around her body, focusing her will carefully. She floated her cloak to its resting place and drew the smaller of her trunks to her with ease as she set about arranging her accommodations as she saw fit. The Lady noted that from behind a wood screen there appeared to be deep tub, and she set herself to ringing for a domestic to have it filled.

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I'm going to come out and let everyone that I am pro-lgbtqia. I'm sorry if this offends you. I wouldn't have written Rune if I weren't in support of these things. I should mention though, that Rune is a challenge for me. I wrote her initially as entirely a lesbian. But the longer I write her, the less I am certain that this is what category she will fit into. I guess it's just going to go how it goes, and I hope people enjoy it.

If you are entirely and morally offended by this kind of subject, or addition of this part of the character; then I should warn you now that I am not above writing w/w sex scenes. I don't have any actively planned, but I'm mercurial, so who knows where I might end up. So, fight me nerds.

This week's vocabulary:

*Garderobe: this is a historic term for a room in a medieval castle that served as a "toilet". The only difference I'm going to say, in my story, is that a garderobe in this world I'm building, it is not just a chute (or hole, as it were, which eventually what coined the term "shit hole", because literally; shitting in a hole that made its way to an outside location and was allowed to just… run outside?) to some outside place. Imagine if you will, more of a Roman concept with a constructed system that channeled waste to be processed with vinegar and buried. Something like that. I'm honestly still working out the plausibility on this, so please don't analyze too much.