Fiction: Without Him
Title: Without Him
Author/Artist: chaoskushrenada
Rating: PG
Pairing or Character(s): Gellert Grindelwald/Albus Dumbledore
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I don't think I would have been brave enough to be JKR.
Warnings: Some starvation, lusting, bad fanfiction
Author's Note: This just popped into my head at work today when I was starving, but had to wait until my lunch break. And of course, this turned into a ficlet. Dang.
Gellert Grindelwald tapped his fingers on the stone ledge of his window, feeling a tad lonely. He even would have wished for the guards of this lonely prison to come and visit him, if only to curse at him and show disgust with his constant displays of witicism. But now, there were no guards and no other prisoners, not even the annoying sounds of rambling coming from the most disturbed of them.
But what Gellert missed most was food.
Succulent turkey breast floating in its own gravy, freshly baked bread right out of the oven and pilfered for added enjoyment, custards and puddings and chocolate cake and... no, don't think about it. His stomach gave a groan of protest, trying its very best to knaw its way through his spine.
Gellert Grindelwald hadn't eaten anything in two weeks, and not for lack of trying. The prison was virtually abandoned. Hell, not even virtually, it was abandoned. The last prisoner other than him had died two weeks ago, and therefore the guards had left. It almost seemed like they had forgotten about him entirely, though he knew they hadn't. Without the strain of two prisoners, the charms that provided water, food, and chamberpot changes for the dangerous inhabitants could easily handle one person with no need for any guards.
Only they were wrong.
Thank the gods that the system to eliminate waste and the water charms were still working, but the charm that provided sustinence had gone out almost as soon as the guards had left. And of course, without anyone there to notice, the charm had gone unfixed.
And that, long story short, was why Gellert Grindelwald was stuck starving in this sparce and blank space and knowing there was not a damn thing he could do about it. That offended him in a way that made him more passionate and more angry than he had been in years. It was a heady feeling that filled his aging muscles with strength he hadn't felt in decades.
He lept to his feet and paced his room, his green eyes filled with an eeiry fire that hadn't been seen in years. Gellert Grindelwald wasn't that old, only his early 70's (which wasn't that old for a wizard, honestly) that was probably the equivalent of a 30 year old muggle. However, forced confinment in this dark and dank cell had aged him quite a few more years. His hair had more gray than blonde at this point, and he had grown thin with the scant rations and little activity. A far cry from the powerful and robust man he had been just a few decades ago.
Before Albus. The thought of the other wizard made Gellert throw his head back and laugh with unmitigated delight, running his fingers through his still thick hair as he thought of it. Albus was so clever, so beautiful, able to defeat him even when he had the wand that had written its way in blood throughout history. By all the Gods of man and beast, Gellert missed him. And for the first time in years, he felt the surge of desire in his loins...
He didn't want to die. Even in a place like this, life was sweet, so very sweet. Albus always said that death was part of the next great adventure in his letters, yet Gellert wasn't done with this one yet. Besides, he hadn't received a letter in a long time.
Such a long time...
A feeling of intense melancholy came over him as suddently as the euphoria had, leaving all energy behind and making him slump on the pitiful stone bench that served as his bed. Indeed, hadn't had contact with Albus for twenty years now, not a letter or an owl. Ironically enough, he was still receiving the newspaper, the one small thing that had been allowed him in this prison except for a few precious books that had been deemed 'safe'. And through that he knew the other wizard was still alive at least.
So why hadn't he written? Gellert had no idea. Albus was a suprisingly complicated individual and one with almost as many quirks as his infamous lover had. It was just more obvious with Gellert. There was any number of reasons that Albus had stopped writing, and all of them were useless to debate upon. Albus was an unpredictable individual...
His stomach gave another frightening lurch and sent spasms of pain through Gellert's body, forcing him to measure his length completely on the bed.
Through his spasms of pain, Gellert didn't hear the rusty iron door be forced open down the hall or the steady footsteps down the stone hallway. Nor did he hear the whispered spell and the charge of magic return through the room.
He did, however, feel cool, dry hands on his forehead and the whispered comfort of that voice that was all too familiar. He felt his quivering skin quiet, like it had all that time ago in those nights of passion and panting in the darkness. Green eyes opened slightly to look into a pair of eyes just as blue with nothing less than a question.
"Gellert, I'm here... are you alright?"
Gellert found it ironic that Albus would say something like that. Alright? How could he be alirght without the freedom to run through the fields of his youth in jubilation, or enjoy watching Albus sleep, or him reading with that unconcious wrinkle between his eyes as he disagreed with the writer?
How could he expect Gellert to be 'alright' without him?
"Oh yes, perfectly fine. Don't mind me, I'm just starving a little."
"Gellert, you can't starve 'a little'. You're either starving or not." Despite the banter, there was a sadness in those beautiful blue eyes that took all the humor out of it.
"Yes you can, I'm doing it right now." Gellert almost winced at the sound of his own voice, dry and cracking with the lack of use it had seen over the last few years.
Albus said nothing else, just held the bowl of broth (now how'd he get that?) to his lips. It was the best thing that Gellert had ever tasted, filling his torso with warmth and finally appeasing the creature that was his stomach. He sighed with contentness. Not only did he have something filling his belly but he was the closest to Albus he had been in years. That alone was worth it. He took in the deep scent that was Albus. He smelled of rasberries, and it was a scent that Gellert had been addicted to for most of his life.
"Not anymore." Albus lowered him back to the bed. He had more gray in his hair and beard now, but he was still as handsome as he'd ever been.
But before he could say anything, Albus stood up and left the room, stopping at the doorway. Gellert watched him with a sort of understanding, knowing that that was the last time he would ever feel Albus' skin against his.
"Gellert, I..." Albus turned around, all that calm-nature and unconcern fell away like a mask, revealing the Albus that was in turmoil.
"Yes?" Gellert leaned forward weakly on his bed/bench, green eyes ablaze with eagerness to hear the words that Albus was about to offer.
"I... hope you enjoy your meal." Then Albus left as quickly as he came, so quickly that Gellert barely had time to blink twice.
However, sitting on a sturdy table in the middle of his cell, was all those foods and delicacies that Gellert had been thinking about as he was starving to death in his cold, hard cell.
Gellert smiled, and was satisfied. That was all the answer he needed.