Arianrhod's Vessel

finally, i'm back. well, i've not been gone. but i've finally gotten round to writing on this fic. yes, its proof positive that miracles can bloody well happen. sadly, i can't claim this as my own. i wish i could. but Lucius, Severus and everyone else you recognize belong to j.k. rowling. she is the goddess of all things Harry Potter and i'm just basking in her glow. and borrowing her characters to fill some deep seeded need i have that demands i do wild and wicked things to those two completely bad, utterly amazing Slytherins. i promise i'll put them back when i'm done with them. even though the plot is mine, i'm not making any money on this. so..... *heavy sigh* your reviews will have to be enough.

there aren't any warnings for this one, other than a warning that dark and evil things are now afoot.if you want to find out what these plots are, keep reading for further updates. all the information you'll need will be there.

as always, reviews are nice, but they aren't necessary. however, if you find you like this story, please let me know with a review.


Chapter Ten: The Darkest Of Plots
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"You want me to do what?" the incredulous voice rang out loudly in the silent office. It echoed off the wall and bounced back at the two men sitting across a broad, cluttered desk from one other. Lucius winced slightly at the resounding tone and the anger it held. He gave Severus his most winning smile and shrugged his shoulders in what was meant to be an innocent manner. "Absolutely not. I refuse."

"But why ever not, Severus?" Lucius asked the man. Severus sneered at the blonde and snapped the book in his hands closed with a violent motion.

"Perhaps because I detest people. Perhaps because I cannot stand her. Perhaps because I said no," Severus replied evenly, laying the book down very carefully on the surface of his desk. "Pick any of those or make up a reason of your own. I do not care."

"Severus, I need your help," Lucius intoned pleasantly, completely ignoring the man's response.

"You need hexed is what you need," Severus snarled at him, one hand drumming noisily on the arm of his chair. Lucius ignored his temper and pressed on. This was important and he was more than certain that Severus would manage to accomplish what he, himself, could not.

"Severus, please. I come to you, humbly, to beg your help. The least you could do is have the decency to hear me out completely," the blonde sniffed, his gaze moving with about the office slowly. Almost as if he suddenly realized that the room he was in was drab and dingy, he turned to his friend and shook his head. "Don't you know anything about decorating? This room is as lively as one of the cells in Azkaban."

"And you would know this how?" he drawled lazily. Before Lucius could take them tottering down a painful trip along the lane that was home to the proper form of decorating, Severus waved a hand and pressed on. "There is no way that I will do what you have asked of me."

"Severus, you're being unreasonable," Lucius chided him. He stood and walked over to one of the man book shelves that clung stubbornly to the walls, idly running a finger along the spines that faced him. He heard the chair creak, telling him that Severus had settled further back into his seat. Making a face at the seriousness of the titles, Lucius turned back to the other man. "It isn't as if I'm asking you to bed the chit or anything. I merely want you to gain her trust and find out what troubles her so deeply that she seeks to run from me."

"And she would believe this? She knows that I care as much for her as I do for the students I teach. She would hardly accept that I would find her of any interest. Find yourself another stooge, Lucius. I will not play nursemaid for you. I will not lower myself and pretend to be something I am not."

"Damn it, Severus. You're the only other person that she knows beyond me. She won't speak to me. I find her in tears and, when speaking of Draco, she becomes so melancholy that I fear for her sanity," Lucius admitted softly. There was obviously a catch in his voice, because Severus leaned forward in his chair again. There was a look of intense scrutiny on his face.

"You fear for her sanity? Do you believe she would take her own life?" Severus asked softly. Lucius gave a slight shrug, but the look on his face remained troubled. Heaving a great sigh, the dark man motioned to the empty chair. Lucius gave a faint twist of his lips, a poor attempt at a slight smile, then retraced his steps across the room to once more settle into the seat he'd vacated. The look on his friend's face convinced him to go on.

"There are moments when, looking at her, I can see the woman she's supposed to be. I can see in her the woman she should have grown into. Other moments, I see this deep and consuming sadness in her eyes. As if she's lost something so great and profound that nothing in the world can ever make it right again. I truly think that, if she were pushed, she might harm herself. Much as you seem to enjoy being dark and depressed," Lucius sighed and steepled his hands before him. "Nisha is a creature of light. She shouldn't walk the path you have. Even you, deeply immersed in self-pity, can't be so unmoved as to let someone so amazing and special simply waste away to nothing."

Lucius fell silent under the warning frown his companion gave him. Instead, he allowed the concern he felt, deep and genuine and almost panicked, to show in his eyes. The two men regarded one another in silence for a long, tense moment. Severus stared at Lucius, noting that his friend of many years was wearing an expression he hadn't seen on that pale face for as long as he'd known him. Lucius was worried. That, and that alone, had him sighing unhappily. He couldn't ever remember a time when he'd seen Lucius this flustered or worried about someone. Not even when Narcissa had discovered all those years ago her inability to carry a child, when she'd been on the very verge of madness, had he shown as much worry as he was now. It was odd to see him in such a state. Lucius Malfoy had always been in control of himself and had never been so unsure. About anything. Ever.

Severus frowned, unable to believe he was giving any kind of consideration to Lucius' request. And yet, there was something about the idea of Nisha doing harm to herself that didn't sit well with him. True, he'd never liked her much. But that had been when she was a child. She was a grown woman now and, despite his best intentions, he couldn't help but feel as if the two of them had something in common. He'd found himself intrigued by Nisha, the teenaged girl. Nisha, the fully grown woman, postively fascinated him. And he knew, much as it was against his will, that he would agree to Lucius' scheme. His need for her, his desire, was something he'd managed to keep in check for so many years. Now, he was being offered the chance to get to know a unique woman, a special and gentle creature of light.

If for no other reason than to satisfy that hidden part of him, those deep, dark passions that no one knew existed, he would do as Lucius asked. He would seek out Nisha and speak to her, befriend her and see if he could draw the information from her. Perhaps, if he could coax her into trusting him, he could coax her into giving him so much more. For much of his life, Severus had been alone. Women avoided him because of his looks and men saw him as little threat at all. Even as a young woman, Nisha had been unnaturally interested in him. He couldn't read her, couldn't see into the depths of her mind. She was shieled too tightly from him. But perhaps, just perhaps, there was an affection inside of her for him that he could use and feed. Maybe it would give him an opportunity to feed his starving soul.

Maybe he could understand what it was that Lucius had found in the girl.

Settling back into his chair, Severus made sure that he wore his sternest frown. He pinned the other man with a black stare, making a production of clasping his hands before him. It wouldn't do to let Lucius know that he'd already made his decision. After a moment of silence, he finally heaved what was meant to be a long suffering sigh. "Very well, Lucius. If you fear for the chit that desperately, I shall give your request deep consideration. I will, of course, let you know when I have come to a decision."

Lucius frowned, stifling his own sigh, then nodded his head in silent acquiescence. "I shall, of course, abide by your decision, old friend. Just know that every moment she's left to suffer is another moment she inches closer to the very depths of madness. Just try not to take too long with your decision."

"I will do my best to make haste," Severus drawled in his most bored tones. He was relieved when Lucius stood and made for the door. Hand on the knob, the blonde turned back to him and smiled faintly.

"I appreciate your time, Severus. You know I wouldn't come to you if it weren't of the utmost importance," he said softly, a faint echo of regret coloring his words. "I know how you feel about her, but I had no one else to turn to. You are, in this case, my only hope."

"What a sad statement on your life that must be," Severus replied softly. He drew a roll of parchment toward him, his free hand already reaching for the quill that sat before him on the desk. "Do remember to close the door on your way out."

The door clicked shut silently behind the arrogant blonde, leaving Severus to his thoughts. Part of him wasn't sure about his sudden desire to be accomodating to Lucius and his plans. The last thing that he needed to do was get caught up in the daily dramas of the other man's life. Still, a part of him truly wanted to help Nisha. For the moment, he refused to consider the reasons behind his sudden and rather uncharacteristic dip into the sappy, syrupy morass of humanity. He'd been on his own for ages and was content with his lot in life.

That didn't stop him from considering what it might be like to have a life that mirrored his old school chum's life. A wife for whom he cared deeply and would do anything to make happy. A child that brought him pride, one who could carry on the family name when he was gone. He'd never wanted such things before, but the years of solitude and loneliness snuck past his defenses to tease him with what could be every now and again. And, frightening and unrealistic as it was, part of him could see that happening with Nisha. Because she was so different from the other women he'd ever met in his life. Because he was certain that, deep down, she held him in some sort of esteem. There was a small, niggling voice in his head that said he would find something with her that he would find with no other woman.

With Nisha, Severus was almost positive he'd be able to find a sense of peace and belonging.

Frowning at the direction his thoughts seemed wont to take without his permission, he dragged his mind firmly back under his control and turned his attention to the parchment before him. Bloody inept first years. A scrolling line of red ink slashed across the paper like a bleeding, open wound as he marked the first mistake. Tonight would be soon enough to start working on the girl. Dinner would be perfect. It would be a time, he was sure, when he could find an excuse to be alone with her that wouldn't seem to be blatant pretense on his behalf.

The beginnings of a smile crept onto his face, lasting only a moment before his scowl came out of hiding and swooped down upon his lips like a giant bird of prey. The smile flittered away and his lips once more curved in away from his nose. Bloody irritating smiles. He had no place for them in his life.

~*~*~*~*~

My dearest Draco,

I hope that this letter, like all my others, finds you well. I miss you daily, my son, and I look forward to the Christmas holidays so that I may once again see your handsome face.

How is your schooling? I trust you're making excellent marks. The last time I spoke with Professor Snape, he gave a glowing and brilliant report on your days at Hogwarts. It sounds to me as if you are the envy of your classmates. I do hope you aren't showing up your Housemates and friends. Remember that your friends will stand you in good stead when you need them.

Very little is going on back home. The only excitement we've had of late is a guest. An old friend of your father and I has come to visit us. I don't know how long Nisha will be here, but her presence is the cause for great excitement. Perhaps, if all works according to plan, I can explain these things to you when you come home over the holidays. If you're lucky, you may perhaps get to meet our friend. I'm quite certain you'll like her. Nisha is a very lovely young girl.

Last week, I went off to visit your Aunt Bella. She sends her love and wishes you the best of luck in your Quidditch games. Make the ancient House of Slytherin proud. She also said to tell you that, as she cannot be there to watch in person, she's there in spirit, rooting for you. She also wanted me to tell you that she hopes you utterly trounce Potter next you play him.

I've sent you a lovely box of sweets, my dear. Try not to eat them all at once. It'll spoil your appetite. I'm counting the days until you can come home for the holidays. Do send a list of what you'd like for Christmas. Perhaps I can get started on it now.

With much love,
Mother

With a huff of boredom, Draco crumbled up the sheet of parchment and tossed it over his shoulder. Using quick motions, he jerked open the box of sweets that his mother had sent and immediately picked out the biggest chocolate contained within. Bugger his appetite and bugger his Aunt Bella. That one was positively nutters and the day the wretched Witch actually wanted anything to do with him would be the day all seven levels of Hell froze over. She only tolerated Draco because he was her nephew and her sister, his mother, the only sibling she hadn't found herself disappointed in.

Draco bit into the rich chocolate and groaned. His mother always did send the very best in things. He'd have to make sure he cast a protective spell on the box, lest he come in one night to find that Crabbe and Goyle have raided the container and eaten all of the lovely goodies his mother sent to him. The last time that had happened, it had taken all Snape had been able to do to keep him out of detentions with Filch for an entire six months. Crabbe and Goyle hadn't looked at his boxes from home again. Not even once. Still.... It was better to be safe than sorry.

A second chocolate followed the first and Draco chewed on the candy with all the joy of a harem of virgins upon finding out thier master was incapable of changing their maidenly status. There was a whisper of sound behind him, then the box was no longer within reach. "Shame, my boy. I'm quite certain your mother expressly warned you not to spoil your appetite," the words were drawled behind him in a very familiar tone of voice. Draco turned to regard his father with an unreadable look for a few moments. Then his smile broke through and he left the confines of his chair to risk a quick hug. "You're looking well, my boy."

"Thank you, Father. Its good to see you," Draco replied, genuinely pleased by the compliment. "What are you doing here?"

"I had matters to discuss with Professor Snape. I thought I'd step in and see how you were before departing once more for home. I trust you're well?" he questioned, sinking into one of the plush chairs with all the grace of a sleek jaguar. He occupied his seat as if he were a king taking his throne, his poise nothing but regal. One hand reached out to set the box back down on a nearby table. Draco settled down on the couch and took a moment to stare at his father.

"You're looking well, Father. Business is agreeing with you?" Draco asked, his gaze moving over his sire slowly as if in search of a weakness or a small, fraying thread in the fabric of his father's nature that would belie what he saw.

"Quite well, my boy. In fact, just this morning I managed to expand my business ventures. It is, without a doubt, a sound investment," Lucius drawled and swept his gaze around the Slytherin Common Room. So very little had changed since he'd been at Hogwarts as a student. Memories flooded him with nostalgia for a moment or two, before Draco's voice broke his train of thought and pulled him back to the present.

"What kind of investment?" Draco asked, geninuinely interested. Lucius smirked, stifling the faint chuckle that came to him. He never tired at seeing just how brilliant his son's mind was. He'd taught Draco how to trade on the stock market and, already, his son had made quite a bit of money on the stocks he'd picked himself.

"Nothing to concern a boy of your age, son. Perhaps, in a few years, you'll show more interest. Then I'll tell you everything," Lucius informed him with a faint smile on his face. Draco's forehead wrinkled and he made a face.

"Oh, you mean sex and girls," he said in a voice that was filled with a pre-pubescent, girls have cooties kind of tone. Lucius allowed himself to laugh, but he nodded his head.

"Yes, Draco. I mean sex and girls. As I said, when you're older, we'll talk about it then," he assured his son, reaching into the box to steal one of the chocolate candies that Narcissa had sent. He popped the goody into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Draco regarded him for a handful of seconds, then burst out with the first thing that came to mind.

"Who is this Nisha person Mother mentioned in her letter? Mother said she was an old friend, but I've never heard either of you speak of her. Why is she at the Manor now and how long will she be there?"

Lucius kept his face very blank and gave his son a good once over. Draco had inherited his eyes and hair and his mother's pale complection. But there were facets of the boy that, until now, he'd never paid much attention to. There was a seriousness in his eyes that had come from neither of his parents. And there was such an intensely fierce nature that forced the young boy to strive hard, to become better than all the rest.

Spell casting had come easy to Draco when he was younger. Lucius had taught him because his son's hands, he'd found out the hard way, should never be idle. There were things that he'd been a natural at. Things that, now he considered them, the boy shouldn't have been able to manage until he was older. There had, in fact, been quite a few things that Draco had easily mastered as a small child. Things that most children didn't learn until they were well into their adolesence. A frown tugged at the corners of his lips as he pondered what all that could mean. Before his thoughts could come full circle, Draco interrupted again. "Who is she, Father?"

"Your mother is correct. Nisha is an old friend. We've never spoken of her because we've never felt the need," Lucius drawled, his words and eyes guarded. The room fell to silence for a moment or two as Draco digested that bit of information. After several moments, the boy frowned. Lucius started and fought to keep his exterior calm. He could swear he'd seen Nisha's own unhappiness looking out at him from the depths of those gray eyes. And then the look was gone, replaced by deep anger.

"You mean she's someone you've had sex with," Draco's words were filled with anger and accusation. When Lucius made no move to defend himself, Draco leapt from his seat, his eyes flashing with rage. He stabbed a finger in his father's direction. "You've had an affair with her, haven't you? Mother thinks she's a friend and you had sex with her, didn't you?"

"What I have or haven't done in my private life is none of your concern, boy! Don't forget that I'm your father and you will not question my activities. Do you understand?" Lucius hissed at the boy coldly. Draco glared at him a moment or two, then finally nodded his head. There was a sulky look on his face. Lucius frowned and stood. "I have to go. Be good and stay out of trouble. I will see you again."

Draco merely nodded. Lucius stared at his son a moment, then turned and strode for the door. Without a look back, he exited the Common Rooms and left Draco alone in the silence.

When he was sure his father was gone, Draco stood and retrieved the crumpled letter from his mother. He carefully unballed it and then tried to smooth it out against the surface of a table with his hands. His eyes scanned over what his mother had written. Based on what he read in the note, his mother had no idea that his father had been slipping between the sheets with this mysterious Nisha person. He'd always had a great sense for his mother's moods, even in print, and he was more than certain that the visit being paid by her old friend was cause for no small amount of joy.

And there was supposed to be something exciting coming out of this visit. Something that his mother would hopefully be explaining to him over the Christmas holidays. What could possibly be good about one of his father's lovers staying under the same roof as the lecherous bastard? Draco re-read the note a final time before once more crumpling it in his fist. He tossed the wadded parchment into the fire, watching it burn away to nothing before he settled into his chair once more.

His mother thought he would like Nisha. She was a nice young lady. He seriously doubted that he'd do anything of the sort. He wasn't about to be nice to a woman who was making a fool of his mother. And if she were doing so under his mother's roof, under his mother's very nose.... Well, Draco could think of a hex or two that would make the shameless hussy think twice about spreading her thighs for his father.

He was still smiling at the mental images he'd conjured when the door swung open to admit Crabbe and Goyle. Perfect. Someone to vent his frustrations upon.

~*~*~*~*~

Lucius strolled into the dining room for dinner at his usual time. He'd spent the time between his visit with his son and the evening meal working in his study. His solicitor had sent the paperwork that covered his ownership of The Birdcage to the Manor and he'd taken the entire day to look it over. Upon finishing the last page of the contract, Lucius had decided that his solicitor had done a damn fine job of working things in his favor. Perhaps this Christmas, he'd send the brilliant bastard something that bespoke his gratitude. He'd have to see what the end of the year brought.

It was nearing dark, a haze of twilight caught between the fading day and encroaching night. He could see through the windows where robin's egg blue had given way to deep black velvet while stars winked like sparkling diamonds in the canvas of the sky. The edge of the world was painted like a miniature rainbow. Deep, fiery red lined the horizon. Burnished orange and golden yellow sat on top of it. Soft purple held the ribbon of navy blue away from the lower hues, while the black of darkness pressed all of the daytime colors down beyond the world's lip. Candles of purest white lit the room against encroaching shadows. The light of them sparkled off the cut crystal in the chandeliers and drinking goblets, flashed off the polished silver and gleamed off the fine china plates.

Narcissa sat in her place on the left side of Lucius' chair. She was dressed in a gown of the finest silk. It clung to her curves like a lover's hand, the brilliant ruby red of it drawing one's eye to the pale purity of her face. Her hair hung about her head like a halo. An Elf was waiting in the background to serve the meal. The chair to his right was conspicuously empty. "Good evening, darling," he rumbled as he moved to stand beside Narcissa. She smiled up at him, allowing him to place a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"Good evening, Lucius," she replied in a silken voice. He settled himself comfortably in his seat. The Elf hurried forward and began serving the salad. Lucuis gave it a glare. "You will not start the meal until Nisha joins us. She is our guest and we won't start dinner without her."

The Elf made a choking sound and withdrew, its wide eyes pinned to where Narcissa sat. She offered Lucius a small, tight smile. "Nisha has sent word that she will not be joining us for dinner. She sends her regards and hopes you will understand that she doesn't wish to create a tense atmosphere. She feels it would be rude of her to do such a thing during our dinner."

"Rude?" Lucius barked out, already on his feet. "Its far more rude of her to skip a meal than to join us for one."

"Lucius," Narcissa looked up at him. He could see the plea in her eyes, the desire for him to leave well enough alone. It was something he couldn't do. Nisha had to come down for dinner. She was still thin and pale. And, if he were being honest with himself, Lucius could admit that he needed to see her. He needed to know she was alright. When last he'd looked into her eyes, they'd been so full of loss and deep despair. What he'd told Severus earlier wasn't far off the truth. He truly was afraid she'd do something drastic. Much as Narcissa wouldn't like it, Lucius knew he had to keep Nisha close. To protect her.

To protect his heart.

He said nothing to his wife, but motioned to the Elf to serve Narcissa. Then he stalked from the table, vaguely aware of the sound of frustration that followed him out the door. His heels clacked noisily on the sleek floor, the sound muffled in an on and off pattern as he crossed a rug that ran up the center of the hallway. He took the stairs up to the next floor two at a time, turning immediately to his right at the top of them.

Glass encased sconces flickered up and down the length of the corridor, a thick silence hanging heavy upon the passage. It felt oddly as if the house were holding its breath, waiting for the coming clash of wills. His long legs ate up the distance as he paced toward her rooms. The door he stopped before was closed tightly against intrusion. As if that would keep him out. Lucius wrapped a hand around the knob, then jerked back in shock when a jolt ran up his arm. The nerve endings in his fingers tingled, as if he'd been shot through with a charge of lightning. He reached out and pounded his non-tingling fist against the door. "Nisha, what the bloody hell was that?"

"Its a protective layer of magic, Lucius," her voice came from the other side of the door. She sounded tired and her words were slightly muffled, as if she were speaking through something of more substance than a mere wooden panel.

"What the hell is it on my door for?" he snarled, laying a hand on the door. Another jolt drove him back. "Nisha, I'm in no mood for tricks. Open the fucking door!"

"Go away, Lucius. Go way and leave me alone," Nisha called out. He thought he heard her sob.
Despite the fact that he knew the magic she'd laid on the door would sting him again, he slammed his hand, palm first, against the wood and rattled the panel on its hinges.

"Open the door, Nisha. I don't understand what you feel to be so terrible that you have to hide, but I won't allow you to remain locked in your room. Come down to dinner right now," he demanded, wand in hand in order to release the spell she'd cast on the door. Nothing he tried cut it off, leaving him to wonder just what kind of magic she'd used. It was nothing he'd ever come across in his entire life. And Lucius had studied many magics over the years.

"I'm not hungry, Lucius," she told him. He could tell, by the sound of her voice, that she was hovering near the door. Either she was afraid he'd make it past her magic or she was fighting the urge to do as he'd instructed. "Please. Just leave me alone. Why can't you leave me alone?"

"Nisha," he stopped and drew a cleansing breath. A moment's silence saw his voice coming out in a more natural, modulated tone. "Darling, I can't leave you alone. I'm worried. This isn't like you. Please. Open the door and talk with me. Come to dinner and eat. You won't ever completely heal if you don't take proper care of yourself."

"You don't get it do you?" she nearly whispered the words. "I'm never going to heal, Lucius. I'm broken. You should have left me in that brothel. You should have left me there to die. Just.... Go away. Please."

"Damn it, Nisha," he persisted, slamming his fist against the door. The same burning pain shot up his arm, but he ignored it. "Don't do this. Its obvious that you're suffering. Don't shut me out. Talk to me. Tell me what troubles you. Let me help you."

"You can't! You can't help me!" she shouted. He felt the slight tremble of the floor beneath his feet, then nearly staggered when he detected a swelling of power from behind the door. "No one can help me! I'm broken and there's nothing you can do to fix it! Now leave me alone!"

"Nisha," he tried once more. There was a loud popping sound, then a muffled cry. Something on the other side of the door clattered loudly to the floor. Again, Lucius tried to wrench the door open. "Nisha? Nisha, are you alright?"

His queries were met with silence.

"Nisha! Open the door. Now!" he ordered loudly, his hand trying desparately to open the door. The jolt turned into a slow burn, forcing him to let go of the knob. "Nisha.... Please. Open the door."

"Go away, Lucius," her voice was little more than a whisper. It came to him from a great distance. Panic slammed into his chest, making his heart pound madly against his ribs. Lucius tried to Apparate to her, his frustration growing when he failed to go any where. Hurrying into the next room, he tossed floo powder into the hearth and called out Nisha's suite as his destination. Again, he went no where.

"Damn it! Nisha! Please, darling. Open the door," he demanded when he came to stand before the closed panel once more. This time, there was no answer from the other side of the door. "Nisha? Darling? Answer me! Let me in!"

Against, Lucius was met with silence. Panic suddenly coagulated into thick, cloying fear. He thought his heart was going to explode from his chest, it was beating so hard. He had to do something to help her, but nothing came to mind. She could be laying on the floor, unconscious and in need of a restorative potion. She could be climbing out the window, trying to escape using the linens from her bed. She could be in dire need of help. And he couldn't get to her. The fear slid through his blood, an oily, unpleasant feeling that he'd not been acquainted with in years. Along with it came a deep sense of helplessness. How could he protect her when he couldn't even breache her defenses? He pressed his forehead to the wall, trying to regain his calm, and was forced to back away when his skin sizzled from the thick layer of magic she'd poured into her rooms.

Sighing, he ran his hands through the silk of his hair. He imagined he was disheveled and unkempt. It was an image he didn't wish to present to his wife when he stepped back into the dining room. He took a moment to straighten his attire, making himself presentable, then looked back at the closed wooden panel. A shaft of emotion shot through him that nearly sent him staggering. He didn't want to leave her alone, but there was nothing else to do. He couldn't get into her rooms to check on her and something told him that there was something utterly wrong. He'd felt, for a moment, as if she'd almost lost control and done something that could have been detrimental to himself and the rest of the household. At the last moment, though, it was as if she'd stopped herself. If she'd been about to expend magic, it would have backlashed on her.

Which meant she was trapped inside her rooms, hurt and in need of help. And he would find some way to provide her with that help. He simply wouldn't allow himself to think of the other, far more unwelcome options.

The trip back to the dining room was made in defeated silence. Lucius wasn't used to being thwarted in his own home. Certainly not by some slip of a girl who didn't know when she had it made. His mood darkened as he slowly descended the stairs. Damn her stubborn pride. Why couldn't she see that he was genuine in his feelings? In his desire to see her well and happy? Perhaps because you've already used her once? Pehraps because you threw her away after you got what you wanted from her? The voice inside of his head was irksome with its knowing tone. He ruthlessly quashed it down, ignoring the truth that rang in its whispered words.

At the foot of the stairs, he stopped to bring himself back under control. He knew he'd been gone long enough that Narcissa would wonder and ask questions. If his mood was irritable and uncooperative, she'd know that something had gone wrong. It was several long moment's later that he felt he was once more himself again. Slowing his pace, he strolled into the dining room to find Narcissa chattering away happily like a lark. Almost as if she'd been expecting him, she looked up and gave him one of her brilliant smiles. "Lucius, love. Look who's come to pay us a visit," a pale hand motioned toward a spot behind him. He turned and nearly smiled when he found Severus standing by a window, staring out at the night sky.

"Severus. What a pleasant surprise!" Lucius had no need to fake the shock in his voice. "What brings you to the Manor?"

"He's come to have dinner with his oldest and best friends, Lucius. You should know that," Narcissa interjected almost immediately. Lucius imagined he could see her hand moving behind his back. "Come, Severus. Sit. You can have Nisha's seat."

"Actually, I have not come for a meal. I have come to speak with your guest. Is she available?" Severus replied almost lazily. His gaze flicked meaningfully to the empty chair Narcissa had just offered him.

"I'm afraid she's rather under the weather. She sent word earlier that she wouldn't be joining us for dinner. It would seem you've wasted a trip, Severus," Narcissa's voice was almost sickly sweet. It made Lucius want to grind his teeth together. He was sure his old school chum was feeling almost the same, given the way his lips thinned into a flat, cruel line.

"Perhaps a visitor is precisely what Nisha needs," Lucius pointed out, motioning toward the door with one hand. He then turned to face his wife, giving her a soft smile. "Go ahead and eat, darling. I'll join you after escorting Severus up to Nisha's room."

"Very well, Lucius," she said, her tone stiff and brittle. She turned away from them and began once more on her dish of salad. Lucius shot his friend a look, then allowed Severus to precede him out of the lavish dining room.

The two men were silent as the mounted the stairs. Lucius knew that he couldn't count on Narcissa to remain seated and not spy on their conversation. She had some strange, irrational paranoia when it came to Nisha. He thought that perhaps Snape was lost to his own thoughts, given the pensive look on his face. Then again, this was Severus Snape. That could merely be his normal look. Once they reached the top of the stairs and turned down the hallway, Lucius heaved a sigh and gave his attention to the man walking, silent as death, beside him. "I'm glad you've come, Severus. Honestly, I'm at my wits end. Perhaps you can accomplish something where I've failed."

"How do you mean, Lucius?" Severus asked, his gaze probing as he stared into the worried face of the blonde aristrocrat. "Has something happened?"

"I really can't say. When I joined Narcissa for dinner, it was to find that Nisha refused to eat with us. Naturally, I went to her rooms to talk her into joining us."

"Ordered her to come down, I would suspect," Severus snorted indelicately. Lucius shot him a glare, but didn't deny it. Snape smiled and made a motion with his hand. "Continue."

"She has her door barred to me, Severus," Lucius explained, a hint of his concern creeping into his words. "There's some kind of magic on her rooms that won't allow me to Apparate or floo into them. Whenever I touch the door, or even the wall, there's this electric shock that burns up and down every nerve ending. Its like nothing I've ever dealt with before. I'm relatively certain that you've never encountered the like, either."

Severus nodded but said nothing. Instead, he gestured once again for Lucius to carry on.

"There was a build up of energy, Severus. It felt as if she'd been going to cast a spell, then had changed her mind. I heard some kind of popping sound, then I heard something clatter to the floor. Her voice sounded weak the one time she spoke. Then she fell silent. I'm afraid that something has happened to her."

"What do you wish me to do about it?" Severus asked. For once, there wasn't a hint of arrogance or sarcasm in his voice. The question was genuine and heartfelt. If Lucius hadn't heard it with his own ears, he didn't think he'd believe it of the dark man. His answer was there, waiting on the very tip of his tongue.

"Try and talk some sense into her. See if you can get into her room," Lucius almost pleaded as they come to a halt before the closed door. Severus cast an intense, pointed glance at the blonde, which sent Lucius back toward the other side of the hall. He watched as his friend turned back to the door and carefully, gently lay a hand against the wooden panel. When he didn't jerk back immediately, he reached for the knob.

"Nisha, it is Professor Snape. May I come in?" Severus asked in what, for him, were the politest of tones. There was no reply. He looked again to Lucius, then shifted a shoulder as if in a shrug and turned the knob. It opened easily. Without another word, he stepped into the room and closed the door. When Lucius moved to lay his hand on the knob, he swore as he was once more driven back by the jolt of power up his arm.

~*~*~*~*~

The room looked as if it had been caught by gale force winds. The linens on the bed were hanging off one side. The curtains that hung over the windows and at the corners of the large bed were in disarray, hanging almost awkwardly from their rods. Several pieces of glass had been shattered and broken, though fortunately not any windows. The shards of mirrors, glasses and pitchers lay in glittering, dangerous piles across the floor, winking seductively at him. Begging him for a bare foot to bite into. He ignored them and continued his once over of the room.

Clothing hung out of the armoire haphazardly and drawers inside had been pulled from their slots. It looked as if someone had tried to burgle the place, right down to Nisha's very feminine clothing. There were small bits of delicate lace in a rainbow of colors laying on the floor. Pictures were askew on the walls and every single candle stick was on its side. At first, Severus didn't see Nisha. But his shrewd gaze caught sight of a pair of pale feet, bare and undamaged, peaking around the leg of the chaise lounge. His footsteps on the thick carpeting were silent. It took only a handful of them to reach the lounge. What he found was both puzzling and frightening.

Nisha lay on her side, one arm laying limply on the floor while the other was curled up around her head as if she'd been trying to protect herself from something. The skirts of her gown were pooled up around her thighs, leaving the long line of her legs exposed. He had to force himself to look away from the simple elegance to be found in the delicate turn of her ankles, the shapely curve of her calves and the silken musculature of her thighs. Instead, he sent his questing gaze to her face. It was easy to see that she was paler than usual, her skin nearly white beneath the faint gold that dusted over her flesh like a fine powder. Clinging close to her body, though, was a dim shimmer of golden light. It circled the prone woman like a halo, hugging her lithe form like a lover's exploring hands, and he could sense from it a strong thrum of energy. He thought it meant that Nisha had expended a large amount of power.

The thing he found to be shocking were what appeared to be tattoos inscribed upon her feet. Each one was black as sin, their color made more ominous by the pale skin that surrounded them. When he'd helped her to the bathroom that one day so many weeks ago, the marks hadn't been there. Which meant.... something. He wasn't sure what it was supposed to mean. But, judging by the designs that marked her, nothing good could come from their presence. If she'd had them before, they'd been hidden well with some sort of glamour.

"Nisha? Can you hear me?" he asked softly, one hand reaching out toward her. His fingertips came to rest on her neck, against the large vein there. He felt a thready pulse, weak and erratic. Severus scooped Nisha up and settled her on the chaise lounge. "Nisha? Wake up!" he ordered, his tone curt and demanding.

Her head rolled from one side of the lounge to the other, her eyelids fluttering softly. Moving to the door, he made sure to keep her hidden behind his tall frame when he opened it. As he'd suspected, Lucius stood on the other side. His face was a mask of worry. Severus kept one hand on the edge of the door, holding it closed so that his blonde friend was unable to see anything beyond him. "Do you have a restorative potion on hand?"

"Of course," Lucius nodded. If anything, his color shifted from pale to white.

"Have a House Elf bring it to me. Go dine with your wife. I am certain she suspects something," he instructed, then shut the door without another word. Absently, Severus drew his wand and flicked it silently at the room. Everything righted itself instantly. Tucking the wand back into place, he returned to Nisha's side. Almost immediately, there was a popping noise. A House Elf moved to him and handed him a stoppered phial, then disappeared as quickly as it came. Severus popped the cork, then slid his arm under her head and lifted it slightly. The potion flowed down her throat easily. It was only moments later that her eyes flew open.

Nisha struggled to sit up, prompting Severus to lay a hand on her shoulder and force her to lay still. She stared up at him, her eyes wide and full of fear. "Do not worry, Nisha. You will be fine. I suspect you used far too much power trying to drive Lucius away."

"Is he?..." she began, but fell silent when Snape shook his head. She sighed and relaxed against the chaise. "What are you doing here, Professor Snape? Did Lucius call you to come save me from myself?"

"No. I came of my own accord. I would like to spend time with you, Nisha. If you will permit it," he assured her, his hand once more reaching out to check her pulse. It seemed strong and even now, as if the moment of weakness had never happened. Satisfied, he nodded and wrapped a hand around her arm, helping pull her up into a sitting position. She stared at him in shock, her lion's eyes round with disbelief.

"Why would you like to to spend time with me? You..... hate me," she pointed out in a tone that told him she thought it was pointless to mention such things. He shook his head, one corner of his mouth twisting upward for a moment or two.

"I believe that you and I have more in common than we would care to admit. It is quite sad to say that we both do not fit into the mold of what is expected of us. We are misfits, cast adrift in a world of cookie cutter individuals. You are out of place here as surely as I would be. It is frightening and I believe that you could use a friend in this den of vipers," he informed her lightly. She stared a moment longer, the look on her face letting him know she was trying to decipher the validity of his words. Finally, after a long silence, she gave a jerky nod.

"It would be nice to have a friend. I don't think I've ever really had one. It'd be nice to have someone I could trust. And I know I can't trust Lucius any further than I can throw him," she replied. There was another quiet moment as she considered it, then finally nodded her head. "Yes. I think I'd quite like to have you as my friend."

"Very good, Nisha," Severus replied then stood to his full height. He held a hand out to her. She took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. When she was standing, he moved to the armoire and opened the doors. With careful consideration, he withdrew a long cloak, a pair of sturdy shoes and stockings to put on her feet. "We are going for a walk and you will not catch a chill. You are still healing from those wounds on your back. So you will put on the appropriate clothing to ensure you stay warm. It has gotten quite chilly out there."

Nisha said nothing, but allowed him to help her into her socks, shoes and cloak. He watched her take note of her feet, her eyes going wide with panicked disbelief. He was careful enough to shift his gaze from the symbols there so that, when she looked to him, she wouldn't know he'd seen them already. When they moved to the door, however, she held back from him. Severus obligingly opened the door to show her that Lucius was no longer standing on the other side. Heaving a sigh, she allowed him to escort her from the room.

The two moved in complete, companionable silence up the long hallway. Nisha took a moment to truly study her surroundings, finding that the corridor was as elegant as the rooms she'd been given. The sconces that held flickering candles to light their way were a brilliant, shining gold while the glass that encased them was etched with delicate lines to form mystical images. The walls behind them were a soft cream color, the carpet beneath their feet almost a perfect match. Paintings of men and women lined the hall on either side. Each one of them watched Severus lead Nisha toward the stairs. She could hear hushed whisperings blossoming to life behind them, but paid it no mind. She was intent on enjoying her time with someone who wasn't merely going to use her for his own ends.

The sounds of soft conversation floated out of the dining room, the door hanging open as if awaiting more guests. Nisha tensed slightly as they moved past the room, only to relax as Severus slipped his fingers around her elbow. Something told her that he would help protect her and keep her safe from Lucius. They made the front doors without incident and Severus was kind enough to open the large wooden panel for her. Together, the two of them slipped out into the darkness without uttering a word.

Nisha was glad of the cloak. Snape watched her pull it more firmly around her shoulders as a cold wind swept down upon them. He let her feet pick their path and wasn't surprised when she made resolutely for the maze. He didn't think it had been a conscious decision on her part, but she'd seemed almost drawn to it the last time he'd caught her outside. She'd seemed almost at home lost deep within its twisting, labyrinthine passageways. The sky was cloudless, stars shining brilliantly in the blackness of night. There was no moon, but the flickering torches that had sprung to life the moment they'd stepped out the door provided more than enough light to guide them on their way.

As they stepped into the maze, the tension seemed to slide off of Nisha as if a dam had been lowered. It rushed away and left her more relaxed and calmed. Severus kept hold of her elbow, his fingers relaying to him her shift from tense and stiff to relaxed and almost fluid. Their cloaks billowed behind them while they walked. Severus gave the impression that he was lost in thought while silently guiding her along the myriad of paths. It gave him the freedom to watch her covertly. Most of her actions were almost mechanical. On occasion, however, Nisha would stop to smell the sweet perfume of one flower or another. He noted that she was careful to avoid stepping on the dragon in the center of each stone. He knew that the great beast bore some kind of significance to her and he would make sure to question Lucius about it. "Draco used to love spending hours inside this maze, playing things like hide and seek," Severus told her.

He was looking at a particularly amazing blossom and missed the pang of sorrow that crossed Nisha's face.

"I would imagine so. Children, I understand, are keen on playing such games," she agreed slowly, her eyes turned from his. He was certain that some memory was swimming across the lake of sorrow in her eyes.

"I neither know, nor do I care. Teaching some of the brats in my classes is more than I can stand on a good day," Severus informed her with a faint growl. She actually lifted her head to smile at him.

"Such a scornful tone for a man who teaches children, Professor Snape. Something leads me to believe that you like children far more than you let on."

"You must call me Severus, Nisha. If we are to be friends, we should use each other's first names," he scolded her. She nodded and ducked her head again. They rounded the corner that spilled them out into the center of the maze. Nisha moved to settle on the bench. She watched, expectant, as Severus did the same.

"While I'm greatful for a friend, I question your motives and timing. You've never cared for me, Severus. And you've never made secret about that before."

"A man is allowed to change his mind, is he not?" Severus asked her. He watched as she weighed his words for a moment or two, a look of complete seriousness in her eyes from the task, then finally nodded and glanced up at the night sky. "Why do you not tell me what you have been doing all these years. There was a rumor you were secreted away in some harem."

"I'd rather not discuss that, Severus. Its not a very happy memory," she replied softly. He could hear pain and sorrow in her voice. "In fact, there aren't many memories that are happy. Not for me. Perhaps you can tell me something of what you do. I think I'd love to know just what it is you teach."

"I teach potions," he began, then launched into a full blown lecture on just what it was he did. Nisha, to her credit, sat there and listened to him in rapt attention. She didn't even break into his monologue once to ask a question. Severus, much against his better judgement, thought that made her appear to be all the more attractive. He'd always thought that intelligence was more important than how the woman looked. Encouraged by her complete silence and the rapt look on her face, he found himself eager to continue on.

He slipped even deeper into his teaching role, warming up to the idea of actually discussing something with someone who seemed to be both intelligent and interested. It was nothing short of a wet dream come true.

~*~*~*~*~

A glass of brandy stood awaiting Severus upon his entrance to the room. Lucius was there, settled into the chair behind his desk. He was reading a copy of The Evening Prophet, a second snifter of brandy near his elbow. Severus had known he'd find Lucius here, waiting for him. The man was more predictable than a gossiping female. No doubt his friend would want to know every little thing that had happened while in Nisha's presence. Sighing, Severus pushed the door closed behind him and noted the subtlety with which the locking and silencing spells fell down around the room. Lucius had always been talented with his spell casting, though not quite as effective as Severus himself. The manner with which they'd been sheilded from unwanted ears listening in had been rather impressive. Perhaps one day, Severus would have to congratulate Lucius on his adept use of those spells.

For now, he mentally prepared himself for the coming interrogation. He picked up the glass, the bowl cradled against his palm while his fingers split around the stem. Severus slid into an empty chair and took a sip.

"Did you get anything out of her?" Lucius asked without looking over the top of the paper.

"Come now, Lucius. I have only just announced my intention to be her friend. It will take more than that to make her tell me anything. Nisha is repressing a great deal of sorrow and pain. She will not simply just trust me with it straight off the first night we spend time together."

The paper flicked back so that Lucius could stare at him over the corner. "Did you discover anything at all?" he demanded harshly.

Severus debated for a moment about telling his friend about the marks he'd seen on her feet. But common sense prevailed and he decided against it. Whatever was going on there, Lucius didn't need to know about it yet. Not until Severus did some research into it. So he sighed and shook his head. "She is smart enough to know that she cannot trust you."

"And she can trust you any more than she can trust me?" Lucius countered.

"I am not the one who wishes to use her," Severus pointed out mildly. "She also does not wish to talk about her past. What little I did manage to read off of her were more feelings than thoughts. And I could sense the sorrow, simmering so thickly below the surface that I am surprised she has not drowned under the weight of it yet. Whatever kind of life she has had, I think it is safe to say the best of it was spent here thirteen years ago."

"And yet, she doesn't wish to be here," Lucius replied softly, finally setting the paper down.

"She knows what it is you wish of her, Lucius. She knows you want her here so that you can use her at your leisure. As if she is nothing more than a toy for you," Severus growled out. Why he was suddenly so angry about that, he couldn't say. But he was. To make his point, he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the man across the desk.

Lucius eyed him speculatively for a moment or two, then a sly smile slipped over his face. "So vehement in your speech, Severus. I wonder why that is?" Severus merely stared at him, not bothering to reply. Lucius sighed. "Do you think you'll be able to get anything out of her? In time?"

"I am sure that I will. Given enough time, I am certain she will open up and tell me all about her past. After that, we may be able to help her work through it. Anything is possible," Severus informed him.

~*~

The two men sat in companionable silence for a while, only the crackling of the fire to keep them company.Their conversation about Nisha had died some time ago and neither seemed willing to bring up what had happened to her earlier. Through mutual, non-verbal agreement, they were going to remain quiet for some time longer. Severus sipped at his drink. Lucius ignored his. Instead, his hand moved to pick up a picture that sat on his desk. His son smiled out of it at him, taken a few years before when Draco had gotten his first broom. There was a kind of anticipatory glee in his eyes that Lucius knew hadn't come from either him or Narcissa. The two of them had been brought up completely differently and such a blazing show of emotions hadn't been normal to their childhoods. It had been something he and Narcissa had agreed upon when she'd been carrying Draco.

He could see a little bit of each of them in the boy's face. Draco had gotten Lucius' eyes and his hair, while the paleness of his skin had come from Narcissa. Oddly, staring as he was, he could see little glimpses of Nisha in Draco's face. It was there in the subtle, knowing curve of his lips, the shape and form of his nose. Even now, Draco was possessed of a lithe form. It was a form he'd always had. It was, he felt, entirely too similar to Nisha's body. She, too, had always been lithe and sensual in appearance. Take the ever present smirk from Draco's face, make it more sultry, and he would take on the appearance of a smoldering sex god. Lucius pondered that for a moment, wondering how it was possible to see images of his young lover in his son's face.

Thinking back on it, Lucius had seen odd traits in Draco that he knew hadn't come from either himself or his wife. They'd always put those traits down as strange little idiosyncracies. But now... Perhaps it was something else. He frowned and returned the picture to its place on his desk. He looked up to find Severus staring at him. "I assume you took her back to her rooms?"

"Yes. I made sure she had something to eat, then I made sure she was going to bed. She was tired and still a trifle..... lost after the events of today. I assured her, before leaving, that I will be back tomorrow night to visit with her again," Severus replied in his most bored tone of voice.

"Was she in a better frame of mind?" Lucius asked.

"Yes. But before you hurry up there, lascivious thoughts running amok in your head, I feel it only fair to warn you that the magic laid upon her rooms is still there. She does not wish to see you. So I would recommend, for the time being, that you leave her alone. Constantly bothering her will only result in a repeat of the actions she took this evening."

"What actions?" Lucius picked up his brandy and tossed it back. "Other than the fact that Nisha locked me out of a room in my own home and then practically killed herself with a backlashed spell. What other actions are there than that?"

"It was not a backlashed spell. She was trying to pull her power back into herself. She succeeded in it, too. Trust me in this, Lucius. You do not want her to lose control. The consequences could be most disastrous."

"Is that a threat, Severus?" Lucius peered closely at the other man. Severus looked bored and ready to leave.

"No, Lucius. That is a promise. Nisha is a ticking time bomb and you need to handle her carefully. If you do not, I will not pick up the pieces," Severus told him, then rose to his feet. He set the emptied snifter down on the corner of the desk. "I do not know what you did to scar her so badly, Lucius, but it is likely not something she will forget any time soon. Keep that in mind when dealing with her. Now... I will be on my way back to Hogwarts. I have hall duty tonight. I just know that I shall be able to catch the Potter brat breaking the rules."

"Its nice you have goals, Severus. Do try not to be too heartbroken when the boy gets off. He has more lives than a cat. And he's got Dumbledore wrapped around his little finger."

"Piss off, Lucius. Enjoy your marriage bed. I do not think you will have a chance to enjoy Nisha's again," Severus replied evenly, then billowed out of the room without another word. The door closed tightly behind him. A moment later, the distinctive sound of shattering glass filled the chamber, followed closely by an echoing cry of frustrated anger.

~*~*~*~*~

"Mistress?" the soft voice broke into her musings. A frown turned her plump, luscious lips downward.

"I do not wish to be disturbed, Thane," her voice was a velvety purr in the near darkness of the room.

"I'm sorry, Mistress. Its important," he replied nerviously. She turned to look at the man over her shoulder, her entire face drawn into a mask of disapproval.

"What could be so important that you felt you needed to disturb my evening's pleasure?" she asked, her voice a whisper of silken warning. A fire burned brightly in the hearth behind her, burnishing her glorious curves in golden light. He could see the rising slope of one breast, the nipple puckered and tight. Thane shifted, his body strumming to life instantly with the lust he felt for her. Even now, with anger showing so boldly on her classically beautiful face, he wanted her so fiercely that his cock ached for her.

"This had best be important, Thane," a masculine voice rumbled from somewhere behind her frame. Thane recognized the voice and shook in his boots. That fear, however, was no match for his lust. His Mistress' body called to him, enticing him with no sound at all. His cock remained hard and firm. It pulsed and jumped with life, as if that part could hear her speaking directly to it. He swore he could feel her hands pulling at him from where he stood. He wanted to go to her, but knew that he would be unwelcomed unless she called him over. He needed her with a desperation that he'd somehow learned to keep from his face. It had only made her laugh.

Still, his cock was trained to react to her presence, to the look in her eyes, to the sound of her voice. To the very smell of her and, sadly, he was always in this state. His Mistress had laid down the rules and one of them had been that he was to always be ready for her at a moment's notice. Now, even with that powerful voice filling the room from the other side of her lovely body, he was hard with want of her.

"The girl, Mistress," he said quietly. Her eyes, which had shifted back to her evening's pleasure, snapped to him in an instant. Despite the light shining behind them, he could see the anger flaring in them. Dark blue orbs gazed at him menacingly.

"You're certain?" she questioned softly. Thane nodded. It had been the only other task charged to him other than to be ready for his Mistress' pleasure at a moment's notice. For nearly three decades, he had been some kind of divining rod, his body tuned to the girl's powers.

"She's taken the fourth mark, Mistress," Thane replied. Even now, some time later, his body throbbed almost painfully with the release of energy he'd felt come from the girl. It had been a strong show of power that had left him breathless and incapable of moving for many long minutes.

"The fourth? Blood of the Gods! The girl should be dead. How is it that she lives? Every time I put her in harm's way, she finds the path through it!"

"I don't know, Mistress. But there was something almost panicked about this discharge. As if she were deeply afraid of something."

Her head turned back to her evening's pleasure. "Leave me. Now," she ordered curtly. There was a moment where her companion was about to protest, then he changed his mind and stood. A dark glance was shot toward Thane, then he was gone. She stood and turned to her faithful servant. When they were alone, she gave in to her anger. Crossing her arms over her chest, her breasts were pushed up and out. His mouth watered with the need to taste them.

"We need to find a way to finish this, Thane. The girl should not have survived this long. She has to die. The Shadowlands failed to hold her and she has escaped her sentence of bondage once already."

"Twice, Mistress," Thane corrected automatically.

"Twice? How? The Bird should have killed her. How did she escape him?" she spat furiously. She began to pace before him, her movements quick and sharp. He watched her with large eyes, his body tensing every time she turned to face him. He expected her to lash out and use him to release her pent up frustrations on.

"The Serpents, Mistress. They stole her away."

"Then the Serpents must die, too! All of them. Before she can complete the Firestorm and take all thirteen marks. There must be a way to stop her.The prophecy cannot be filled," she raged with hissing, poisonous words. Each new burst of anger brought a tightening of her hands and Thane wished that her hands were curled around his aching cock. The thought of that pain drove him further toward the edge.

Suddenly, her anger slid away and her hands stopped clenching around one another. She halted her pacing and turned to face him. She wore a wonderful, beautiful, evil smile on her face. "You'll do anything for me, Thane. You have claimed this on numerous occasions."

"And it is so, Mistress," he replied, his eyes filled with his desire to please her.

"Then kill the girl for me, Thane. Prove your love and devotion. Kill her for me. And the Serpents, as well. Kill them all so that I know you love me best," she whispered the last to him. It stroked along his spine and sharpened his need, a lover's caress made sound to bring his cock to more painful firmness. He felt so fully engorged that, should she draw his passions any higher, the skin of his shaft would surely split against the influx of blood. "Kill them, Thane. For me."

"As you will it, Mistress. It will be done."

The smile that curled her lips up was cruel and heartless. It sent his blood soaring, pounding in his veins like the surf crashing against the shore. "You please me well, Thane. Come to me now and take what I give you."

Thane moved across the room as if in a trance. He knew he pushed the door closed behind him, but the knowledge was almost like a distant memory, hazed with the passing of days and a long time left forgotten. He watched as her gaze moved with liquid grace from his face to his bouncing cock. An utterly feminine smile curved up her lips. "My, my. Ever at the ready for me, Thane. What a faithful servant you are."

She held out her hand and he took it thankfully. Her skin was warm, moist against his own. The feel of it started burning fires of passion ablaze deep in his loins. Her arms slithered around him, drawing him closer to her amazing body. She hugged him close, her firm, high breasts rubbing enticingly against his chest. He shuddered and waited for his instructions. She pressed the soft flesh of her mons against his cock, making it twitch in anticipation. "My sweet Thane. Come claim your reward, my love."

She pulled him with her, tumbled them both down onto the thick piles of furs on the floor. He landed on his back, her body molded to his own. When she slithered down his torso, her hair trailing gently along his chest, he shuddered and knew what was going to happen. The velvet of her hands curled around his turgid length, sending shudders of need rolling through him. She stroked him slowly, her hand squeezing the tip of his length before she drove her hand back down along the length of his cock.

Her mouth, hot and moist and talented, closed over the head. His body arched, his hips bucking up into her. A groan rolled up out of his throat. "Oh my Goddess!" he managed to get out on a soft breath.

She smiled around him, then gave herself up to her task. She did so love it when they prayed to her.

end chapter ten.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

my thanks go, as ever, to the Wenches. they help keep me going. i love them all, even the Wenches who aren't wenches! *grins* extra special thanks go out to my kitty cat and onyx for their unflagging support. they really help keep me on track. much love to them all.

this chapter is entirely self-beta'ed, so any mistakes you find are mine and as such, will probably come home for dinner when i least expect it. forgive me those few little errors. do you know how bloody hard it is to get a godhead these days?

and finally, some extra special thanks. i cherish each and every one of my reviews and, as such, i always acknowledge them.

to Cyndi: i'm so glad you liekd it and i hope that last chapter helped you get over the smut slump you were in.

to Charmy: your words make me blush. honestly. i'm so pleased that you find yourself enjoying my humble offering. i hope you continue to enjoy with this next installment.