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Chapter 9: Rowena and Salazar
This night they wanted to be alone. It wasn't too difficult to arrange, though; the castle was enormous. She was sure they hadn't made it this large in the beginning. There were places here she didn't know about, places she had never seen. Of course, someone else might have designed them; not Godric — he wouldn't have managed to keep quiet about that the next morning, he liked to brag with his accomplishments; and not Helga — she most certainly would have asked their consent before doing anything. So it could have been Salazar.
She doubted it, though. Building the castle had created a new kind of magic, different from all that they had, different than she had ever seen anywhere. And this magic was inside the very walls of the building. In the end it was the castle itself that decided what it was, how, and where.
Rowena leaned her hand on Salazar's arm gently, letting him lead her.
"I discovered this yesterday when I was roaming the halls to find a suitable place for tonight," he said, walking her down the corridor where the kitchens were, until they got to a blank canvas on the wall at the end of the hall. "Milady," he said.
Rowena thought this was said to her, but so did the canvas, for it swung open, leaving behind an arched stairway leading upwards to a dimly lit room. Entering the room her senses were greeted by the sweet scent of honey mixed with the slightly sharp one of burning maple from the fireplace. A few roses that surely must have come from Helga's greenhouses were woven into a bouquet and looked even redder and livelier than they would have with the flickering candles around them. The table was set for two.
"Salazar, you shouldn't have…" Rowena said, smiling as he pulled out a chair for her. She was seated so that she could see the window — the frozen forest and the silent snowfall outside made chills of pleasure run down her spine, probably just as Salazar had hoped.
"I did nothing," he answered with a half-smile, sitting down in the other seat, and making a dinner appear on the table. "Bon appetit," he said.
They ate in silence. Only the clicking of their metal tableware was heard, with the occasional dripping of wax from the candles, cracking of flames in the fireplace, or gust of wind rattling with the windowpanes and howling in the chimney.
Rowena put down her goblet, and felt it approaching. Salazar had finished eating, too, and was studying her silently over the candles and the roses. Suddenly the set-up in the room seemed exaggerated. In a moment she would find out why he had asked her here…
"You know that Helga is like a sister to me," he said finally.
"And Godric like a favourite brother, yes," Rowena added, but Salazar looked away and didn't answer.
After a moment of the crackling and dripping and howling of their surroundings he continued.
"You could never be my sister," the half-smile was on his lips again. "You are so much more!" He jumped up from his chair, and started pacing the room, now looking more like Godric on his usual days, not like the reserved and calm Salazar she knew. "You're smart and beautiful and fair and… You're the best there could be!"
Rowena blushed a little, though she had heard him say that to her many times already.
"And I want to marry you," he finished.
"And you know that you can't," she added, sad now. They had talked it all over for even more times.
"No, I can," he replied, sitting down again.
"Don't be ridiculous, Salazar," Rowena reprimanded. "The wavelengths of our magic would resonate, it would not only break our possible offspring; it would also break us. And the school can't afford to lose two of its founders due to their own stupidity. And you know that I have studied it more than I would consider healthy; and I have found no way to get past this, besides letting someone bind our magic. And we're not worth this."
"I know it all," Salazar replied. "And I know our lines must continue, so that there would be someone to care for the castle when we're gone."
Rowena didn't want to correct him, but she knew the castle could take care of itself without their help.
"I'm sure you heard about my latest argument with Godric," Salazar suddenly changed the subject. Rowena was not grateful.
"Yes," she said silently. "About admitting Muggleborns… Why would you think that? I mean, my parents weren't magical," she asked in earnest.
"That's why! The kinds of magic they use are different! It could destroy the wizardkind. We can't even…" his voice broke and he didn't finish the sentence.
They sat in silence for a little while, both thinking their own thoughts. Rowena was too frightened to even suggest the possibility that perhaps their magical resonance had nothing to do with their parentage.
"I'm leaving the castle," Salazar finally said.
"Yes, Godric said you would."
"Not for that reason. I'm going to find some Muggle woman and have some children. And then, when it's done, I'll return to you," he said as if it was the most logical and normal thing to do. "I suggest you find some old grey-beard to father some children for you, too," he said, "so that you would be free when I come back."
Rowena didn't answer. She couldn't tell him how much different her views on the subject were.
"I have something for you," he said, getting up from his seat and pulling a thin silver chain from his breast pocket. A small ring was hanging from it. "Consider it an engagement ring."
She let him slid it around her neck, still motionless, still saying nothing. He touched his warm and gentle fingers to it and whispered something, and Rowena felt the hot wave of magic flow over her, making the chain irremovable and unnoticeable for anyone but her.
"One day I will return," he said, and before Rowena could turn around, he had disappeared down the stairs.
She remained sitting there, the candles burning, the snow falling, the fire crackling, and the roses emitting this intoxicating sweet smell. She sat until she felt the magic of the castle shivering and altering. And then she knew he was gone. She had nothing more to do in this room.
As the canvas closed behind her, she looked at it again, only to find it wasn't empty any more. There was their room painted on it by the soft brush of the castle's magic. She was sitting there, alone, facing the emptiness of the dimly lit room. Salazar's seat was empty.
She knew, and the castle knew. He was never coming back.
Author's note: I hope you liked this chapter. It'll not be the last one, but as this is not exactly one story, I've decided to change the status into complete. It won't change anything, though, I'll still be updating as fast as I manage, which at current speed would be once in every three days. I hope that's okay with everyone.
And, please, REVIEW. Reviews are nice.
Next chapter (I'll post it on the 10th) will be on Molly and Arthur.