A/N: Exhausted right now from my first teaching prac!!! But I'm determined to give you something, even if this is pathetically small. I may update more at the end of the week.

~Knave's Heart~

"Does he?"

"Wot?"

"Does he still have your heart?"

She was miles away, but she could not draw herself away from the Judge. Half of her was with him, and the other half, her shuddering spirit, was with him. She told herself she was mad. There really was no other definition for a woman who pined for her murderer - and Sweeney had murdered her that day. It was pure luck she had survived.

"Wot?" she pretended not to hear him speak. It was a fool's task, of course. No person who heard that voice could fail to escape. His voice was more than mere hallucinogen - it was the spell of ancient druids, blasting down from the ages into his low spell woven tones that echoed through the dull hall. Stirring, he spoke again, and filled her mind with the glorious images of a dream.

"Come here, Nellie," he commanded, and took her hands, as if she were a child learning the steps of her first dance. His face was so stern then, as he looked down upon her, that she couldn't help but laugh. He nearly dropped her hands. "This isn't the time for laughter, my dear, or is it? Do I amuse you?" His tone had eased into its familiar bitter stamp.

"No," she said quickly, wondering if she had fallen down a pit into the deepest underground of the earth (for that was how mad she felt, waltzing with the Judge), "only you cut a funny picture just now, Judge T."

"Septimus." His frown grew deeper still, and he drew her apart as far as their hands linked would allow, to survey her properly. "So lovely, and never to be mine."

His words took her aback. "Wot you mean "never to be mine." I 'aven't made up me mind yet, 'ave I?"

He did drop her hands then, and dusted down his carefully pressed vest. "Too late," he insisted. "You've already chosen. I see the thoughts written plain in your head, madam."

"Don't act like a father, Septimus. Not that I remember mine -" Her eyes grew wide. She had called the Judge by his first name. Neither of them were expecting that. "Wot I feel for you," she began unsteadily. Nellie had planned it all in her dreams, at least. She would be the charming seductress, as she had always been. But now her thoughts were spilling from her as if they were each two waterfalls falling down from opposite sides if a lake, she could not charm. Least of all seduce. "He has my heart," she said almost inaudibly, fearing a slap to the face, as she'd expect in Sweeney's case, "but then so do you."

"If I cannot have all of it, my Eleanor, and I speak plain to you, because you are one of the few people I trust, I will cut it out."

He did not stop her.

She went to the door, still dressed appallingly, and made to turn the handle. Suddenly she no longer yearned to be free.

*~*~*~