Romance Month: Steampunk!AU, body swap for a day.

Gobstones Event: Grey Stone - betrayal

Accuracy: (song) "Hide" by Creed. Power: (dialogue) "this means war." Technique (word) slippery

My dearest Septimus,

I am currently writing this letter as my boat sails to France. The deck is wet and slippery from the storm outside, otherwise I would be writing at the prow of the ship, the place where I imagine thou wouldst be. After all, you spoke of nothing but sailing the skies, following the storm in the hopes of capturing but a little of its lightning. As it is, my quill shudders with each roll of thunder, and I apologise profusely for the illegible writing.

My mother's shadow has grown too long for me to bear. She believes that I owe her my whole - my life, my love my soul. But I grow weary of following her every move, and I believe that I shall wither and die if I do not escape, if I do not hide.

I have heard tell of a machine invented within the depths of the forges of Albania. If one is to believe the tales, it would allow one could travel back in time, escape the clutches of this world. Yet for all of my enthusiasm, I feel as though a part of me is missing. Will you not follow me, where we could be free from the tyranny of our forefathers, where there is no reason left to hide?

For how could my mother deny my right to marry who I will, if she is not yet born to give the command?

I await my reply with the utmost impatience,

Helena

My fair Grey Lady,

I would follow thee to the fiery pits of hell itself if only to ask for your hand. I fear that I am too late, that you have given up all hope of waiting. Let it be known that I was detained, by none less than your mother.

She wishes for me to bear a message, one that cannot be written, but requires the spoken word, a compassionate ear. Hear her out through my lips before you make a mistake you will live to regret.

I have commandeered the best of the sky captains as I hasten to Albania. I will arrive in the morrow, but I hope my letter arrives in advance.

Your loving Baron

'Helena!' Septimus cried, throwing the doors open to the machinery room.

He was met with the sound of gears whirring, bellows puffing and steam whistling. Casting his eyes about, he noticed a young woman with a black corset, the silks of her dress ruffled above her leather boots as she stepped into a compartment. Dark hair fell in waves over her shoulder, and that was all that Septimus needed to identify his love.

'Helena!' he shouted with all his might.

The woman turned around, a smile lighting up her face as she saw who had called her.

'Septimus!' she cried joyfully. 'I knew you would come!'

She jumped into his arms, and as they embraced for the first time outside of the customary courtship dance, a shudder ran through Septimus's body. Thinking nothing of it, he closed his eyes and kissed his beloved… only to find that his hand on her cheek felt the coarseness of stubble, the hand around her waist covered with a long coat. Blinking, he stepped back to see a mirror image of himself.

'What sorcery…' his voice died in his throat as Helena's high tones came out of his mouth.

Looking down, he noticed that he was corseted, his hands were perfectly manicured and soft. He touched a hand to his head, feeling the gossamer curls, the customary goggles one used for entering machinery sequestered within.

'Never mind,' he said.

Legend had it that when soulmates kissed, they would swap bodies for a day, but Septimus hadn't seen it with his own eyes, and so hadn't believed a word. It now seemed that the stories were true.

'Septimus,' Helena breathed. 'We truly are fated to be! Oh how my mother would rage upon hearing of you - the no good nobleman unworthy of being my husband - being my soulmate!'

She laughed, twirling in a movement that seemed at odds with Septimus's body.

'Your mother!' Septimus said, suddenly remembering his objective. He leaned forwards, staring himself in the eyes. 'She is ill, very ill. Her latest experiments sent a wave of nauseous gas through the steam, and the doctors fear that she will never recover. She wishes to see you, to make amends.'

Helena stepped backs, drawing Septimus's eyebrows dangerously close in anger. The hard line of his jaw only served to make her look more imposing as she drew his pistol.

'My mother!' she rumbled, her voice booming around the room. 'Oh yes, she has many ways of tricking people back into her service, into her arms. So clever that even you - my supposed true love - works at her beck and call! I should have known this was too good to be true.' She cocked the pistol, levelling it at her lover. 'This means war, Septimus. It always did, and now you're caught in the crossfire.'

'Helena,' Septimus tried to reason with her. 'This is no trick, I swear it! Your mother has promised to accept my proposal if I bring her back to you.'

'Am I some sort of good to be bartered without my consent? No, I will not be a pawn in the devil's game of chess. And I won't stand to see you turn into one either.' Helena took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. 'If my true love is one that consorts with my mother, then I would prefer to have no true love at all.'

With that, she ripped the goggles from Septimus's head, stepping into the time machine.

Later on, the workers would find the body of Helena Ravenclaw on the floor and send it to her mother. If it turned out to be someone else upon arrival, well, Rowena Ravenclaw took that secret to her grave.