This one is probably my favourite out of everything I wrote during the challenge, so I'd love it if you'd share your thoughts. ;)
Round Four
Prompt: 'We are the fallen angels'
Word count: 500-700 words
Eternal, Third Place
He found her in the Forbidden Forest, in the dead of night.
He supposed it was ironic that that's where their paths should converge after so long; a fitting name for a fitting meeting. The word seemed to echo around them, howled by the wind and whispered amongst the leaves. Forbidden they said, and for the first time he felt a phantom chill of regret.
He stood watching her as she knelt on the forest floor in a pool of autumn leaves and mist, silent as the grave. There was a fragility to her, though she remained unmoving as the frigid wind whipped her bare skin. Only the untamed locks of her fiery hair crackled wildly through the air and he found himself admiring how the colour remained so brilliant after so long, even as the shadows of the night stole the reds and golds of the fallen leaves. But that was his Ginevra; always so vibrant, light and colour personified, even in her darkest hour.
This hour was perhaps the darkest of all.
She broke the silence, her voice ragged as though she had screamed her throat raw, and he flinched at the thought she might be in pain. "How could you leave me?"
I had to. He thought tersely, but didn't dare utter the words.
She let out a sorrow filled sigh, her breath catching as she choked back a sob.
Don't, he wanted to tell her, you've mourned enough for a thousand lifetimes, but again he said nothing, merely stood and watched coldly as her shoulders quivered and she wept .
It seemed like an impossible stretch time before she fell silent once more and took a steadying breath, as though to prepare herself for what was to come.
The urge to go to her, to lend her his strength, to be everything she needed hit him hard, but he didn't crumple under the force of his desire. The feelings were familiar, had been his constant companions for so long that he had learnt to bear the weight of them. But Draco was tired. He was tired of pretending, of being indifferent, and the words slipped out before he could stop himself.
"Be strong." He whispered, his voice barely audible above the wind, and his words echoed about them, sending chills across her skin.
She turned, her eyes glinting through the shadows obscuring her face, but they were unfocused and she looked straight through him as though he didn't exist. She slowly rose, her legs shaking weakly under her weight.
He didn't move, couldn't move as she came toward him, and the bargain he had made with his master echoed through his mind.
Promise me she'll live. He had pleaded weakly as his master trailed one cold, slender finger across his filthy cheek.
So ready to sacrifice everything, his master had observed with a cruel smile. She will be kept alive. Oh yes, she certainly will.
"You will pay for what you took from me. I vow an unbreakable vow, you will pay." Her voice shook him from the memory.
His eyes widened when a flare of magic completed her pledge, and he caught her pretty mouth twisted in a vicious scowl. Fury welled up inside him as he glimpsed her bare skin under the scrap of cloth she clutched to her skeletal frame, innumerable scars puckered angrily across her naked flesh. Her wrists had been rubbed raw and drops of blood slowly trickled downward, steady tears of crimson falling to the earth. Perhaps most shocking of all, her ruined face hadn't aged a day in the long nineteen years since he'd last seen her.
He fell to his knees, devastated by the sight of her, of the repercussions of his sacrifice. His master had kept his word, Ginevra had been kept alive... and would be kept alive forever, to be used and tortured as the Dark Lord pleased.
But Ginevra had escaped, and she had nothing left to lose. She walked through his incorporeal form, breaking his imperceptible body apart, and when the flurry of silvery wisps of smoke came together again she was little more than a shadow amongst the trees.
He followed her.